I just checked my blog to see if I had any comments to post (sadly, none) when I realized that it's time to change my subtitle. You see, as of mid-June, I officially entered my thirties, which means that I'm no longer a "20-something new mom". But even though I'm not in my twenties anymore, I still consider myself a new mom. After all, every day brings new parenting challenges, and besides, Murray is only our first in what we hope will become a brood.
Any ideas? Throw me a bone. . .I could use some creative assistance.
Dragon Pride
We celebrated Dragon Home Coming last week. I decided that we should enter the office decorating contest.
In case you are wondering, the photo to the left means: The Dragons will Dam the Beavers. I thought it was very clever, but apparently the committee didn't.
Duwoof
Last weekend, Craig had a conference in Duluth, MN. Duluth being one of my top five favorite cities, Murray and I decided to tag along. Following is a synopsis of our "adventure in Dulwoof" (Murray's words)
Day One:
Hop out of bed and hit the pool. Murray was out the door wearing only (yes, only) tennis shoes before I could fully open my eyes. After reigning him in and getting dressed, we swam for a good couple of hours, played in the arcade, and then it was back up to the room to dress for lunch.
Hop out of bed and hit the pool. Murray was out the door wearing only (yes, only) tennis shoes before I could fully open my eyes. After reigning him in and getting dressed, we swam for a good couple of hours, played in the arcade, and then it was back up to the room to dress for lunch.
We treated ourselves to a delicious lunch and brea
th-taking view at the JJ Astor, the hotel's roof-top revolving restaurant. After that, it was off for a long nap.
th-taking view at the JJ Astor, the hotel's roof-top revolving restaurant. After that, it was off for a long nap.
After nap, we had time before Craig was finished with meetings for the day, so we decided to visit the aquarium. Although I've grown up with fresh water fish, there were many exciting species that were new, and besides, every thing about the aquarium thrilled Murray.Craig met us after our aquarium adventure for a walk on the beach; stopping along the way to watch the bridge rise 
and let the ships go under. We had a fantastic Italian dinner at down-town Bellisio's. We all fell into bed; all five senses having been stimulated to the max.
and let the ships go under. We had a fantastic Italian dinner at down-town Bellisio's. We all fell into bed; all five senses having been stimulated to the max.Day Two:
Murray and I were exhausted, so we slept in, ate a late breakfast and walked a block south to board the Northshore Scenic Railroad, which took us to the edge of the city and back. One of Murray's greatest loves are trains, so you can only imagine his delight at the prospect of riding on a real train. His eyes were round as saucers, and when the whistle blew, he joined in with a merry "WOO WOO"!
One of the advantages of having a two-year-old is that they still need naps. So after our train excursion, we headed back to our cozy room for a long rest.
Craig finished his convention shortly after we woke, so we met some friends for dinner, and took another walk to watch the ships come and go at night. Beautiful!
Day Three:
Finally, family day. We decided to drive north. I'll let the pictures tell the rest of the story (unfortunately, we forgot the camera in the car when we were at Lutsen).
When it was time to leave on Monday morning, Murray and I both had tears when we drove away from Duluth. At one point, our little traveler even tearfully exclaimed, "I want to go b-back to Duwoof!" Me, too, Murray, me too.
Murrayisms-Update
Murray's latest vocabulary:
"Oh man!" (when something is just unbelievable)
"Oh DARN IT!" (if he has made a mess)
"Daddy, light is green, you can go." (pretty obvious)
"Stupid Daddy!" (he said it once and I guarantee, he'll never say it again)
"Don't forget the M&M's, Mama." (very nonchalantly while Craig and I were making a grocery list and we assumed he wasn't paying attention)
"I wanna go back to Duwuth, pwease?" (big crocodile tears rolling down his cheeks while driving away from the big "yake")
"I'm going swimming!" (this, at 7am; Murray walking out the hotel room door wearing only underwear and shoes; Craig and I still in bed)
"Hey, what's that?" (every five seconds)
"Nawa, kenn up!" (asking Nala to stop barking "kennel up" is her command to stop, but it rarely works)
"Mama, sing garage song, pwease? "(he is referring to Bed of Roses by Bon Jovi; yes, I do sing rock, country, classics as well as nursery rhymes, i.e. Winken, Blinken and Nod - I like to mix it up, even though every one I know other than Murray begs me to sing "SoLo")
We hear so many new words, phrases, and confusing sentences from Murray every day that we are amazed at the ability of a soon-to-be three to think, act and speak as we do. Of course, we think he's a genius, but when all is said and done, we know how completely conceited we are.
Here's to celebrating children. What better gift could God bless us with?
"Hey, what's that?" (every five seconds)
"Nawa, kenn up!" (asking Nala to stop barking "kennel up" is her command to stop, but it rarely works)
"Mama, sing garage song, pwease? "(he is referring to Bed of Roses by Bon Jovi; yes, I do sing rock, country, classics as well as nursery rhymes, i.e. Winken, Blinken and Nod - I like to mix it up, even though every one I know other than Murray begs me to sing "SoLo")
We hear so many new words, phrases, and confusing sentences from Murray every day that we are amazed at the ability of a soon-to-be three to think, act and speak as we do. Of course, we think he's a genius, but when all is said and done, we know how completely conceited we are.
Here's to celebrating children. What better gift could God bless us with?
The Noisiest Birds On the Block
Lately, every morning, just before dawn, we are greeted by the very noisy call of some obnoxious birds. In fact, these so-called feathered friends are so loud that one day Murray woke up, climbed on his bed to look out the window and cried, "What's going on out there?!" This rude awakening prompted me to do some Googling. Here's what I found:
The bird in question is known as the Common Grackle. They are longer than a blackbird and smaller than the American Crow. They eat anything and love to congregate in trees and make people's lives miserable with their early morning parties.
After several crack-of-dawn observations, I've come to the conclusion that the Grackles are holding a sort of religious ceremony. The leader begins with a long, solo, cackle which includes variation in tone, pitch and timbre. When he/she is finished, hundreds of others reply by screeching as loud as they can; each seem to have a different call. If the leader goes on too long, his/her "congregation" cuts him/her off, only to cause a cacophony of very angered birds. I've noticed that they'll retreat only when you've finally managed to fall asleep again and just a few seconds before the alarm goes off.
Sheesh, and I thought the cat was annoying in the morning.
Has anyone else experienced the attack of the Grackles?
The bird in question is known as the Common Grackle. They are longer than a blackbird and smaller than the American Crow. They eat anything and love to congregate in trees and make people's lives miserable with their early morning parties.
After several crack-of-dawn observations, I've come to the conclusion that the Grackles are holding a sort of religious ceremony. The leader begins with a long, solo, cackle which includes variation in tone, pitch and timbre. When he/she is finished, hundreds of others reply by screeching as loud as they can; each seem to have a different call. If the leader goes on too long, his/her "congregation" cuts him/her off, only to cause a cacophony of very angered birds. I've noticed that they'll retreat only when you've finally managed to fall asleep again and just a few seconds before the alarm goes off.
Sheesh, and I thought the cat was annoying in the morning.
Has anyone else experienced the attack of the Grackles?
Dear Mom, It's Me, Marie
Warning: This is a pretty maudlin post, so if you aren't in the mood to feel down or cry, don't read it. Some may say that it's inappropriate, but it's my blog, and my blog is my therapy, so I'm posting it anyway.
Dear Mom, it's me, Ree,
I woke up this morning thinking of you; wishing that I could feel your arms around me just one more time. Oh, how I would give anything for a hug and a conversation. Since I couldn't speak to you, I did what you've always told us to do when we're far apart: I wrapped my arms around myself and pretended it was you. And then I pondered how things would be different if you were still here. If Heaven had an airline, I would be on the next flight. I pose the following questions knowing that you can't answer me in person, but with the faith that you are answering in spirit.
What would you have done when Murray woke up at 5:30am this morning demanding to watch a movie? (we said no)
How would you have reacted when he threw an enormous temper tantrum when I said "no"? Lord knows, you've dealt with more than your fair share of tantrums when Maggie was Murray's age and when I was Maggie's (current) age. Ha! (we took the dvd player away and let him cry it out)
What would you say if I asked you how to make french dips for the millionth time? We're craving them and although you wrote the recipe for me, it would be so much easier just to call you. (You'd laugh and patiently explain every step and detail)
Did you know that our phone bill has decreased by 50% since November 3, 2007? I miss our multiple daily chats more than I could ever have imagined. (although Craig used to complain, even he wishes our phone bill was high again)
What would you tell me to do if I called and said that I'm sad? (you would probably tell me to look around and find something, anything, to be happy about, even if it's the dead of winter)
What would you say to Murray if you could speak to him? (my guess is that you would tell him how much you love him and you would teach him things that only Grandma's can)
What would you say to Craig if you could speak to him? (I think you'd tell him that he's doing a fine job as a husband and father and that you are proud of him)
What would you say if you could speak to Mags? (OH, so many things, but mostly how proud of her you are and that she's turned into a fabulous woman)
Do you visit us in our dreams? (I think so)
What's Heaven like? How's God? How's Mary? (I don't have an answer for this one, but my guess is that everyone up there is watching out for you, for us, for our loved ones)
I have so many more questions, but I think you get the idea, Mom. How would we all be different if you hadn't gotten sick? I heard a quote the other day: "God makes no mistakes." It struck me dumb because even though I'm horrified that you're gone, I have to keep reminding myself that you really aren't gone, that you are with Him.
In a conversation with Grandma Kate while I was in labor with Murray, I started to cry and asked how I could possibly be a good mom without your help. Her answer was simple. She said, "Marie, she's already taught you to be a mom; by raising you!" So though your life was infinitely too short, I am so blessed to have had you for the time that I did. We all are.
I love you mom.
Dear Mom, it's me, Ree,
I woke up this morning thinking of you; wishing that I could feel your arms around me just one more time. Oh, how I would give anything for a hug and a conversation. Since I couldn't speak to you, I did what you've always told us to do when we're far apart: I wrapped my arms around myself and pretended it was you. And then I pondered how things would be different if you were still here. If Heaven had an airline, I would be on the next flight. I pose the following questions knowing that you can't answer me in person, but with the faith that you are answering in spirit.
What would you have done when Murray woke up at 5:30am this morning demanding to watch a movie? (we said no)
How would you have reacted when he threw an enormous temper tantrum when I said "no"? Lord knows, you've dealt with more than your fair share of tantrums when Maggie was Murray's age and when I was Maggie's (current) age. Ha! (we took the dvd player away and let him cry it out)
What would you say if I asked you how to make french dips for the millionth time? We're craving them and although you wrote the recipe for me, it would be so much easier just to call you. (You'd laugh and patiently explain every step and detail)
Did you know that our phone bill has decreased by 50% since November 3, 2007? I miss our multiple daily chats more than I could ever have imagined. (although Craig used to complain, even he wishes our phone bill was high again)
What would you tell me to do if I called and said that I'm sad? (you would probably tell me to look around and find something, anything, to be happy about, even if it's the dead of winter)
What would you say to Murray if you could speak to him? (my guess is that you would tell him how much you love him and you would teach him things that only Grandma's can)
What would you say to Craig if you could speak to him? (I think you'd tell him that he's doing a fine job as a husband and father and that you are proud of him)
What would you say if you could speak to Mags? (OH, so many things, but mostly how proud of her you are and that she's turned into a fabulous woman)
Do you visit us in our dreams? (I think so)
What's Heaven like? How's God? How's Mary? (I don't have an answer for this one, but my guess is that everyone up there is watching out for you, for us, for our loved ones)
I have so many more questions, but I think you get the idea, Mom. How would we all be different if you hadn't gotten sick? I heard a quote the other day: "God makes no mistakes." It struck me dumb because even though I'm horrified that you're gone, I have to keep reminding myself that you really aren't gone, that you are with Him.
In a conversation with Grandma Kate while I was in labor with Murray, I started to cry and asked how I could possibly be a good mom without your help. Her answer was simple. She said, "Marie, she's already taught you to be a mom; by raising you!" So though your life was infinitely too short, I am so blessed to have had you for the time that I did. We all are.
I love you mom.
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