Lost and found...

Another snowy day, and there was work to do. We headed outside and shoveled the drive, the walks, the porch. I was exhausted. I looked up and... panic! Where is Alex?!?



Ah, snap... she was right under my nose. Sneaky little bugger.

Bound for an exotic land...

Michele is at the airport headed for Iowa. She is just going overnight (some worky, car interior thingy) and will be home late tomorrow. She used to travel for work all the time. It was normal. Then we grew a baby, grew and dismissed a tumor, and settled in a bit. Now it feels anything but normal. Which leads me to this story...

A couple months ago Michele was offered a chance to interview for a three year assignment to work overseas. We have always said that this is something we are down for. Finite change of pace and a lifetime of stories. We weaved tales over glasses of wine about our crazy ex-pat lives in Germany or Brazil or Mexico. They offered Korea.

The timing is perfect because Alex would be back in time to start school. When will we ever be so free again? I couldn't work (no visa), but is that really a problem? I'm lazy anyway. But Korea?

We had to think and talk about it for a couple weeks. And do you know what finally made up my mind? Not the isolation, or the language barrier, or the smog, food, or people. It was that Michele would have to travel, a lot, to other parts of that part of the world. I could go anywhere, live anywhere, with Michele and Alex... but I have no desire to live with less Michele.

So she passed, and we are mitten-bound for the forseeable future. But, rest assured, if Australia comes knocking we are out of here.

Winter Wonderland...

Last week we finally got some real snow. Alex was excited to get out and enjoy it... until she realized that meant helping me shovel at 6:30am. But, after the work was done, we did do some playing. She walked through the snow drifts, sat on snow piles, sledded off the two foot high porch, made snow angels, and jumped off the bench *splat* in the snow. She had a blast... so did Michele and I.

Don't want to...

Alex is struggling. Which means we are struggling.

She switched to a new room at daycare at the beginning of the year... Twaddlers. It is the way station between Toddlers (see: toddlers) and Preppers (see: Preparing for Pre-school). She knows most of the little ones in there and her best friends are there with her. She should love it.

The first week they told us that she was having a tough transition. She was having trouble getting to sleep and crying. She was asking where Pap was, where Mama was. It sucks hearing that. But she was fine at drop off and fine at pick up. Just a phase.

Then she started saying that she didn't want to go. "Don't want to Papa." We still drop her off at Toddlers because Twaddlers opens later. This might be part of the problem... being dropped off someplace comfortable and then dragged away an hour later. She was getting better they said. She wasn't crying anymore... they said.

Thursday I dropped her off, and it was the normal routine. Put away her stuff in Twaddlers, went to Toddlers, set her up with a snack, chatted up the teacher, big kiss, have fun today. I walk out the door and turned back to wave through the window as always. And greeting me was the saddest little face I have ever seen. Tears to make a crocodile blush. Red face, mouth agape, sobbing. And I did what I never do, I went back in. I held her and told her it would be alright and she said, "I want you Papa, I want go home Papa" over and over again. I finally had to just give her a kiss and leave because the alternative was to scoop her up and run out the door and never come back. It was heart breaking.

I hope it gets better, because it can't get much worse than that.

Little Miss...

Have I mentioned that Alex has most of her favorite nursery rhymes memorized? It's true. To me, this makes her an extraordinary, brilliant, freakishly smart two year old. I may be a little biased. She knows Ba Ba Black Sheep, Humpty Dumpty... a bunch. Usually she won't let me record her reciting them (even though she does it constantly). But I must have caught her in a giving mood last week...

Seven years ago today...

...I married my best friend. I don't know where I would be without her, but it wouldn't be here. It wouldn't be at home. It wouldn't be with our baby. It wouldn't be happy and comfortable and optimistic. It would be happy every morning when I wake up and have a partner to run through life with.

Happy anniversary Michele. I love you.