Chicago trip!

I just re-read my post I wrote before our trip to Chicago, and I can't get over how neurotic I sound. I'm not really like that, am I? Sheesh.

Despite all the (minor) challenges I mentioned, our trip was really fun. We stayed in a single hotel room with both girls, managed to get enough sleep to be sane, and got around the city just fine.

I got a lot of messages from friends with advice from my anal retentive post, so it was worth it. A friend lent me her stroller and Highlights magazines, and I got many, many great Chicago tips, almost all of which I used this time. The rest will be saved for our next trip! Such a fun place to visit.

L and I spent some quality time in the hotel room bathroom while the kids went to sleep, both at naptime and in the evenings. (Thank God for wireless internet.) It won't be long before we'll be done with naps and ready for later bedtimes that we can all do together -- but we're not there yet! So, trips like this are fun but not ideal. We were there 3 nights, and I think that was about all we could do before the lack of sleep would've turned us all into monsters.

One note: I am happy I dug out our old white noise machine from when Jellybean was a baby. It was the perfect buffer for hallway noise and plumbing noise in the hotel (for all of us!).

Sutherland drink?

I always saw this weird word in the grocery store dairy section, and I couldn't venture how to pronounce it, let alone consume it, so I just left it well enough alone. Now, go figure, it has become one of my go-to snacks for the kids. If they knew how good it was for them, they might not love it as much as they do. So I won't tell them that part.

I'm talking about kefir. It's pronounced KEE-fer, just like Kiefer Sutherland, if you're challenged like I was. I bought it to give to Peanut when she was sick a couple months ago and having a bad bowel reaction (sorry, TMI) to her antibiotic. It's similar to yogurt, although it has more active cultures than the main brands. Plus, it has dietary fiber. And did I mention it tastes like a smoothie?

We call it "yogurt drink" at my house, for simplicity. It is often the afternoon snack, and I serve it in our (previously special-occasion) built-in straw cups. No prep required, it's healthy, filling and everyone loves it.

So if you've seen it and felt a bit xenophobic too, I'm here to tell ya it's worth trying. This is the brand I like the best, and this winter I plan to kick it up in the blender with extra fruit and other nutrition. It also works wonderfully as a dip for fruit or graham crackers.

Stuff

My first garage sale is this weekend. The amount of stuff we have accumulated in this house astounds me. And I'm not even a shopper. These are things we deemed "necessary" or something close to necessary to function in life. Insane.

So as I've been sifting through what amounts to almost another entire house in our basement, I've come across all kinds of items. They really are just things, and I rarely miss material items once I get rid of them. I have discovered a bit of a purpose to all this "stuff," though: It jogs the memories.

Without the junk, I wouldn't have thought of all the things I've thought of in the past week, like events of my life flashing before me. I still have -- for the moment, anyway -- some of my old cassette tapes, many from the 80s. It amazed me how just seeing the name of one singer or song could bring to mind old friends and complete scenes and events. Strangely, the same thing occurred with my old purses. I recalled carrying that purse to such-and-such event when such-and-so happened.

I'm selling all the little-baby toys, gadgets (speaking of stuff that wasn't really "necessary" -- all the baby crap astounds me) and baby clothes, since we don't plan on more kids. All except The Orange Crocs and a few other little items, which I'm keeping for posterity. Having been at home with my girls more than I have worked full time since they were born, I feel like I remember vividly all the tidbits from their babyhoods. Of course, that's through a sleep-deprived filter and covering almost four years.

So last night, I was folding baby sleepers and nighties, and I was transported by a total recall of memories from Jellybean's infancy. L usually had post-bath duty in those days because it gave him a special time with her since I was nursing. I remembered how he would always talk to Jellybean in the sweetest way. He told her every night what animal or design was on her pajamas, and he talked to her about how pretty she was and how much he loved her. I was bursting with warm and fuzzy after remembering all this detail last night, and I couldn't wait to tell L about it. His response? "I don't remember that at all." He really didn't, he had erased it all from his mind. I was galled. How dare he forget anything about our babies?

That is why moms are supposed to be the keepers of all childhood stories. Dads are supposed to choose three stories from their kid's childhood -- preferably involving bodily fluids and/or embarrassing moments -- and repeat those same stories for the rest of their life to whomever will listen. I forgive L for his forgetfulness. And I'll allow him to choose his own three stories.

Talk time

It's been about 5 months since we cut the landline. We couldn't be happier. Not only are we paying less for phone service than we've ever paid, but we also love the portability (and textability) the cell offers.
One of the greatest benefits, however, is one I never could have predicted. Because the cell phone is smaller and less bulky than a landline cordless phone, it's a lot easier for the girls to hold. When we call my parents or L's parents now, the girls will chat with them on the phone forever. They like to look and act like us holding the phone, and the conversations are just priceless. (They also use their play phones to mimic texting like we do, which partly cracks me up and partly disturbs me.)

We used to have to chase them around the house with the cordless phone, pleading them to talk to Grandma or Grandpa. Now this phone -- combined with us cracking down on manners a bit -- makes the whole process effortless and provides entertainment for the grandparents.

Do I lack resolve?

New Year's resolutions have been flying at me everywhere I've turned so far this year: the newspaper, TV (is anyone else tired of Oprah and her "wagon?") and especially on the internet. People are resolving that 2009 is the year they will morph into everything they've always wanted to be -- or so it seems. To their credit, many of my blogger friends and Facebook friends have written quality missives about their personal goals.

So, why haven't I? I don't have any resolutions. Is that wrong? Is that bad? Ironically, all the hype has made me question myself in that regard. I've thought about it, and really I'm the only person who can decide if it's bad not to be spouting my goals for the world to know. And I think it's just fine. It's all right to think that I'm good enough and smart enough. And there are even a few people who like me, gosh darn it.

After the ongoing discussions through the past few decades about equal rights and feminism and women's liberation, I feel like I'm in the minority by being a woman who is happy with myself and my life without any major changes. Don't get me wrong -- I know I'm not the perfect person, and I can always improve on managing my friendships, taking time for my husband, writing more for myself, cleaning my house, learning to use my sewing machine, and a few other things. And I'm struggling lately to motivate myself to even step outside to get the mail because it's been so frigidly cold. But I don't feel like I've ever needed (and hope I never will) the kinds of transformations I've been bombarded with in this year's press about resolutions.

I always have goals, some small and some longer-term. My caffeinated beverage experiment was one of the longer-term plans, and we're still in the midst of the Kleenex project. I guess I just don't need a calendar to tell me to connect with myself and check in with how my life is going so far.

On a semi-related note, I can't help but wonder how much of the New Year's resolution hype this year has been brought on by the financial crisis. Are we covering up our collective financial pain with focusing more inwardly? Could be, and time will tell.