Rage

I haven't had the episodes of intense anger, and resulting irrational behavior, I had during the end of my second trimester with Hip...

until today...

Our old city is having its yearly celebration this week. Festivities include singing contests, a carnival at the park, activities for small children, a parade and fireworks tomorrow night. This evening after dinner we took Hip to the carnival. He rode motorcycle rides and a car ride. Since I am pregnant I chose not to go on the Ferris Wheel with L and Hip instead waiting below in the cool shaded grass with L's sister and her boyfriend.

Suddenly I felt this odd squirrelly touch on the right side of my middle back. I turned slightly to see a stocky man casually dressed pushing a double stroller with two children walking next to him. He said, "Excuse me." I moved out of the way and said, "Don't ever touch me again." You may find my response rude, but I am super confused why he would a) need to touch me at all b) touch my middle back c) touch me in such a creepy manner. I had no problem moving out of the way of his family, I had a problem with the manner in which he touched me.

Being offended by my female empowered response he replied VERY rudely, "Then stay the hell out of the way!"

That's the moment. The one where all I saw was red. I charged after him and said with equal rudeness (and maybe a little more), "*#$@ YOU!" He turned back around, saw that I am pregnant, and looked at my sister-in-law's boyfriend. He started walking back toward my sister-in-law and her boyfriend and said to him, "Are you the one with the problem here?"

You can imagine the boyfriend's surprise. He replied cooly, "You don't push your way over a lady, sir."

"You got a problem? You want to take this over there," he said with equal amount of rage I was experiencing and pointing in a northerly direction.

"No I don't," the boyfriend remaining calm.

Remembering my role as a peacemaker and mediator, professionally, I said to the man, "You are not okay. You should go get some help."

The man then said, "Let's go talk this over with my friend, Officer Jensen."

"You do that," the boyfriend said.

The man walked away and stopped some 50 yards away to be with his family of three children and a wife. They all looked so normal over there and I kept wondering if he beats his wife in private. After the rage subsided, which took nearly two hours, I began to feel very sorry for his children and wonder if this is a common experience of his family because they literally did not stick around to witness any of this guy's behavior toward us, or our behavior toward him in all fairness.

I feel deeply ashamed of my use of profanity. Especially in public and especially at a family event. It truly is unlike me to behave in such a manner, though it is not unlike me to stand up in the face of injustice. I am absolutely not sorry for standing up for myself and my body. No one has a right to touch me (break my bubble). This is something I have taught with great energy for 5 years in order to empower children and to empower people who have been victimized. I am proud I proved myself to not be a hypocrite and took action.

Each episode of pregnancy rage I have experienced has come from a valid place. It's just my extreme emotional response and behavior that have me slightly amused, but a lot worried. With Hip I had 4 major incidents in a matter of 4 weeks. I hope that tonight is my first and last with this pregnancy.

And I hope this is the last time I get groped at a community event.

A Conversation

Me: Hip? Do you know what today is?

Hip: Yep.

Me: It's Father's Day. Who is your father?

Hip: Umm...Jesus.

Me: Actually Jesus is your brother. Daddy is your father.

Hip: YAY! DADDY!

Me: Who is Jesus' father?

Hip: AJ?

Me: No, Heavenly Father. He's your Heavenly Father too. Do you know who Daddy's father is?

Hip: Umm...Umm...

Me: It's Grandpa Ray. Do you know who Mommy's father is?

Hip: Jesus has a truck.

Me: I don't think so. Jesus doesn't really need a truck. Do you know who Mommy's father is?

Hip: Jesus has a car.

Me: No, it's the same thing as a truck and he doesn't need a truck or a car.

Hip: JESUS HAS A TRUCK!

Me: Okay, Jesus has a truck.

Hip: JESUS HAS A TRUCK! (repeated 25 times).

***

Earlier in the day I asked him a question that I cannot remember now and he answered, "Twenty-three weeks." I was very confused about his answer, which had nothing to do with the my question, because where in the world would he come up with that? I realized later that since it is obvious that I am expecting a lot of people have been asking the usual pregnancy related questions including 'how far along' and 'do you know what your having?' Of course I've been politely answering, "I'm twenty-three weeks" and "I'm having a human being, I'm surprised you didn't know that already."

***

It is a dream come true to have a child that will talk with me. I hope this will always be the case.

Best Day Ever

This is Hippo's heaven

Reasons

Here are the reasons I love Ken Griffey Jr.

-He is a classy athlete

-He has triumphed over personal tragedy and disappointment

-He is funny

-He is cool

-He was exciting to watch

-He is inspirational, for all the right reasons

-He is caring

-He is a good leader, for all the right reasons

-He loves kids

-He is like an old-school player, the ones you think about when listening to James Earl Jones's monologue in "Field of Dreams" about baseball, wrapped up in a modern-day package

-He gives me a sense of happy nostalgia

-He is the reason I played for as long as I did

-He is the reason I have always regretted quitting

-He is the reason I have, and always will, love baseball

Back Seat Mormons

Hip and I attended our new ward (church congregation) for the first time today. We were warmly welcomed, and then warmly escorted from the building afterward.

This is what needed to happen to Hip during sacrament meeting: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xSKEeKw_TA

We are used to having sacrament meeting first in the three hour block (11:00 AM) which means Hip is the most well slept, well fed, well cooperative he's going to be. This new ward does not have sacrament meeting until 1:00 pm which means Hip was the most tired, most hungry, and most uncooperative he was going to be.

When we entered the chapel, where the meeting is held, the only seats available was the second row from the front, behind a family who had gathered for a baby blessing (celebrating new life and putting a child's name on the church records). The only other time Hip has sat in a pew was for his cousin's baby blessing a few months ago which was in the early morning; but I was so ill that day I have very little memory of it other than almost throwing up Cheerios at my brother's church building. We have always sat in the back row, in our old ward, in folding chairs exactly next to an exit. This proves to be most advantageous as we can coral Hip, he is not distracted by very many people, not very many people are distracted by him (except the other half-hearted back-row folks who are looking to be distracted anyway), and in case of an emergency (temper tantrum, screaming/yelling, disobedience, poop, and general rowdiness) we can make a speedy exit without having to scramble over anyone else in the process.

To list a few highlights (or lowlights) of our church experience:

-Hip staining my new white maternity shirt with drool dyed orange from his goldfish snack in nursery

-Hip hitting me and the girl sitting in front of us

-Us barging into another ward's all-men's meeting when trying to find an empty room for time out (we have the empty rooms scouted out in our old ward building)

-Hip finding the hidden candy in the diaper bag and screaming either, "I WANT CANDY" or "I HAVE CANDIES" every five or so minutes

-Jumping on the pew facing the entire congregation, screaming/yelling/hollering about: as for mentioned candy, hellos to those he would like to get to know, trucks, stickers, snacks, nursery, puppets, balloons, glad tidings, no-so-glad tidings, books, etc.

-Screaming in delight in response to the children behind him

-Getting to know the lady sitting next to him during fast and testimony meeting by which my observations she was feeling quite touched

-Screaming to the girl in front of him, after he hit her, "DON'T DO THAT, OKAY?" (I'm still not sure what she was not supposed to be doing)

-Throwing his rag at me

-Trying to escape the pew with so much effort he became as sweaty as a pig (and hence slippery), and so did I

-Hip yelling to several speakers

-Hip refusing to pray, even though he used to pray, and screaming about a variety of things instead

-Hip dribbling chocolate down his face, clothes, and onto the plush pew cushion when I finally relented in giving him candy to stop the screaming

-Hip choking on a Mike 'n Ike candy to the point where I was considering administering first aid

I had a profound impression driving home: People don't go inactive because of testimony problems, they go inactive because of toddlers.

So Many Ideas, So Few Pictures

I've had plenty of time to post, just so you know.

I've lost the cords to our camera and phones (and the camera battery) which is a common side effect of moving I believe. So I have not been able to upload pictures. I've come to the realization that everyone wants pictures with the blog post and so I've been avoiding it.

Here are the things I will be blogging about as soon as I find a cord or two (and a battery):
-Our recent (not that recent anymore) trip to the Oregon Coast
-Our recent house sale and move
-Hip, on being two
-Hip, on moving from his beloved home
-Hip, on his big boy bed
-The neighbor(s)--this one's going to surprise you
-Week 20
-Me, on being overly idealistic, polictically, as a book review
-Me, on becoming humble

Aren't you excited?

Mom, This One's For You

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFNJLs-Ql0o

When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Get Reading

I don't smoke, drink, drug, party, club, eat excessively, or watch television often so when life gets challenging I turn to exercise generally. Since I throw up a lot during pregnancy my workouts have gone from approximately 2 hours 4-5 times weekly (~1000 calories) to 70 minutes 4 times weekly (~450 calories). When I contracted a wicked sinus infection AND pink eye last week I halted my workouts, temporarily. It's a good thing I've got a back up plan.

Finishing my 13th book in a month last night I have decided to review them.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians Series by Rick Riordan

Book 1: The Lightning Thief

Book 2: The Sea of Monsters

Book 3; The Curse of the Titans

Book 4: The Battle of the Labyrinth

Book 5: The Last Olympian

These are surprisingly good. A few book club members began reading them reporting good things. I dove in when I was confident the series fit my criteria: the series must be complete before I read any of them. There are two things that stand out on my list of why I liked this series: it taught me all I ever wanted to know about Greek mythology without boring me to tears and there is adrenaline pumping action on nearly every single page of each book. My new greek mythology knowledge has already helped me understand many things in regular life/other reading! These books are age appropriate for age 10 and up, anything below parents should know that there is violence and some death. Finally, books 1, 2, and 4 are better than books 3 and 5, which are still entertaining. (The movie "The Lightning Thief" deviates enough from book 1 that it annoyed me).

The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck

This book is so good it won a pulitzer prize in 1932. The story takes place in China and 'earth' is the subject strain throughout a man's lifetime, being born into poverty and becoming a rich man. I watched this movie, in black and white I believe, when I was a young child and was deeply traumatized. I was not too young to understand the horror of starvation, something you will need to endure to make it through this novel. There is a connection between land ownership and wealth something modernly is applicable though the importance has been lost on most Americans. Ironically I was selling my own parcel of land while reading this book, if you read this book you will understand my heartache.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peal Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

This book is just as delightful as it is fabulous. Set in England's island territory of Guernsey (off France's Northwestern coastline) in WWII aftermath. It is a story, told through witty letters, about courage and the human spirit's ability to survive and cope and heal. It would be selfish for me not to recommend this book to everyone I know (and like). My sister gave it to me to read on my recent trip to Oregon and I couldn't put it down despite pus oozing out of every orifice on my face (so it worked out that I couldn't sleep!). The enjoyment I gleaned from this book equals what learning to love to read was like as a kid.

A Room With a View by E.M. Forster

I am a lover of classic literature. In 1998 I told this to my BYU English 115 teacher, a graduate student, who told me I was a snob! Anyway, this was recommended by my library's classic book list. Imagine Jane Autsen meets L.M. Montgomery. This book is set in early 1900s England/Italy (English in Italy) and is a commentary on class, independent thinking, and humanism (aka human rights). I responded positively to it immediately and loved how slightly the themes were presented. A lesser snob would never have picked up the fact that E.M. Forster was a homosexual, which made me love him and this book even more. I will definitely read more of him in the future.

Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis

This book was exactly what I needed, set in the Great Depression in Michigan! The book was not so much about Michigan as it was about a 10 year-old boy who has the important things in life already figured out. Bud is an orphan who is on a journey to find his roots. Aren't we all? If you love children and the way they think, simply, you will enjoy this book. It won the Newberry Award in 2000.

A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park

A short book about dedication and overcoming obstacles with determination. I enjoyed learning about an interesting part of Korea's cultural history as I read the story about Tree-Ear. Tree-Ear learns the fine art of pottery and overcomes many obstacles, with the help of merciful and loving friends, to find his place in the world. Books like this should be on your children's list to read because of the important cultural and humanistic messages; that is, if you want your children to grow up to be good people. It won the Newberry Award in 2002.

Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech

I loved this book a lot and I highly recommend this as one not to miss out on. The story is actually two parallel stories where the main character gains incredible personal insight, healing, and closure to a personal tragedy through an experience of a friend. In other words, this book is a spiritual metaphor. Though the language of this book is written for tweens, the deeper themes will not be recognizable until older ages. That's okay, it is a book that can be enjoyed by many different types of people and readers. This book won the Newberry Award in 1995.

The Midwife's Apprentice by Karen Cushman

You can read this book in an hour. It is about a drifting orphan in 1200 England who finds herself an unconventional home and occupation. I found it interesting because I am indeed pregnant but it was also a simple commentary on caregiving (of oneself and of others). Anyone who loves others will enjoy this book. This book won the Newberry Award in 1996.

People are Idiots and I Can Prove It! by Larry Winget

Yes, I am an idiot and Larry Winget proved it. SHOOT! L and I listened to this on our car ride home from Oregon last Sunday. What Larry does is paint a picture of common human goals and how many/most people do things to sabotage their success rather than attain their goals. In my professional opinion it is an oversimplification, but still a very useful slap in the face, of why people are unsuccessful. I realized I sabotaged my success in private practice by blaming my lack of confidence rather than my lack of honest preparation and research and hard work. Larry's frank statements also caused discussion between L and I which turned into an argument which turned into resolution, hopefully, of some long term differences we have had. The only thing I wished was more examples of laugh out loud idiocy.

This Is Me, 14 Weeks Pregnant

There's no use posting an abdomen shot as a photo will not detect my thickening waist yet. My pants can certainly detect it, however.

I have accepted the fact that I am knocked up. I have not accepted the fact that I will be the parent of two children.*

Sorry I've been a little cryptic about it. Well, I'm really not that sorry.

*Don't worry, I was in denial that I would be a parent with Hip until about six weeks after he was born.

P.S. L is mad I posted a picture of myself in my bathrobe.

Motivation?

Be Still My Soul

A college roommate taught me to appreciate music. She emoted the music when she listened, or played. 'Be Still My Soul' was one hymn, of many, by which I watched her be comforted:

Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side;
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev'ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: The waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: The hour is hast'ning on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: When change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

It has been a time of great sadness. Anticipating many life changes has moved from exciting to stressing.

Watching our home be scrutinized and fiscally valued by strangers and neighbors has been heartbreaking. What is a home worth? A place where lives are built, a place of refuge.

The thought of leaving my career, though temporarily, causes me tremendous grief. A large part of who I am is defined by being a therapist; someone criticized this as 'an inflated sense of self' the other day when I expressed this concern to them (don't get too mad, they were trying to be helpful). Now that I have thought about it for awhile I can see their point, but I disagree. I am a good therapist and I will miss it. I will miss my office, my chair, my computer desktop, my files of children's drawings, my colleagues, my clients. Mostly, I will miss the opportunities I have had to learn from the therapeutic relationship; I have learned the most amazing truths about God's mysteries as a therapist.

It took me a long time to make good friends after I got married. And suddenly they were there, after many lonely years. These friends have enriched my life and changed me. The distance created by our move will not lose these friends, but the relationship will change and loss will be felt.

I anticipated problems with our neighbors as we neared finality on our future plans. No amount of anticipation could have prepared me to have my character raked over boiling tempers, again and again and again. I feel defeated. Wisdom I would impart is to not worry what others think if you feel good about what you have done. That advice is crap. The bottom line is that it hurts when others hate me, especially when I know what I've done is the right thing. Because, if there is something I can change about my behavior or character, something to apologize for, maybe their hatred would be justified. God's advice is always best: Matthew 5:44 "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;" Know, I am trying.

Hip has been a challenge. I naively thought the challenging behavior was only present at home. It was clear that is not the case when talks of being kicked out of our church's nursery began a few weeks ago. I am rarely the parent who is embarrassed by the child, and this situation is no different. My horror comes from knowing my child is causing harm to others, and severe disruption to the poor teachers. I know, first hand, how tiring it is to work with naughty children, I have empathy. Hip's hitting problem is severe. There have been those who have said, "He's two, it's normal." My comeback: Pornography viewing is also normal, but certainly not healthy and certainly not okay. At home the tantrums rage for hours, I am the primary victim of his hitting. There have been countless people who have said, "You know where they learn that? From the home." My comeback: Do you think he learned to hit when I forced him--no hitting or physical violence on my part, other than holding him down with one arm--to allow me to change his feces-loaded diaper so quickly last week a NASCAR pit crew would be impressed? Because I'm confused. We do not watch television when Hip is awake, we do not use corporal punishment (except the time he ran near our busy road two weeks ago), there is no domestic violence in our home or threat of it, and shouting occurs only when my hormones coupled with neighbor disputes reach unbearable levels (which all things considered has not happened very often, twice I think). Further, Hip is disciplined using a 123 counting method, brief time outs, and a lot of redirection/distraction. Finally, he is privy to undistracted parental (often two at the same time due to L's work schedule) attention 90% of his waking hours. It should be noted Hip is only disciplined with time outs at this stage of his life for hitting or angry destruction because he IS two and how is it his problem I accidentally left the crayons out and he colored on the wall or that he grabbed onto a ceramic figurine that was within his grasp and he dropped it on the tile breaking it?

The purpose of this post is to sort out my thoughts, an attempt to cope positively with hard things. I told my mom, a few months ago, that I knew I was headed into the most challenging phase of my life, thus far. Being a teenager sucked and the only reason that is worse than the issues going on now is that it lasted so damn long! I am hoping this will end soon. Best case scenario--29 weeks (I've got to allow for some recovery time).

WEARY

I just read a book where the mythological character Atlas tricked a mere mortal in holding up the sky for him.

Oh the irony.

He's 2, That's For Sure

Hippo enjoyed his second birthday. He especially liked this cake his Grandpa Randy made for him.

This is one of my favorite pictures we've taken of Hippo (he looks deceptively innocent and sweet).

This is an adorable picture of Hippo opening his present from his cousin, Buddy. His other cousin, Sambo, is in the chair to the left. Hippo was more happy playing with his cousins in Oregon a few weeks ago than he has been all winter.

Here Hippo is sporting one of his presents. Hippo has always been willing to wear hats, a major benefit to a fashion conscious mother.

Hippo received many birthday presents. He is lucky to have a lot of adoring family members to provide him with endless trucks, tractors, books, and other toys.

L and his 18 year-old sister stayed up until midnight making this cake for Hippo. In the shot you cannot tell that there are hills and valleys, fish swimming in the pond, trees, and worms in the dirt. L was attempting to tell me about his vision of this cake while we were in the store and I impatiently told him that it would never work and that he was foolish for thinking up such a crazy idea. Well, it turned out uber-fabulous and clearly I am the fool. When Hippo saw the cake he immediately yelled, "Tractors!" and raced over to the cake to drive the tractors around. Hippo loved it. Even though I wasn't able to make his cake this year, his daddy filled the void (much better than I would have). We also had a tractor pinata that Hippo had difficulty parting with but we forgot to get a picture of it.

I Asked Hippo to Post...

...about his second birthday and he yelled,

"NO!"

Timing

I just noticed my watch, the one I wear nearly every day, is 55 minutes faster than the actual time. Apparently I never "fell back" last fall and haven't looked at my watch since. Gee, if I had just waited another five days...I'm not even going to change it.

Maybe the watch is a cause of all of my recent timing errors...

Heavenly Father Loves HIppo

Hippo has had a rough winter, topped off by an awful month. It all started when he hit, developmentally, the terrible two's. To be chronically misunderstood is the most maddening of experiences.

A few Saturdays ago, innocent curiosity left him with curling iron-shaped blisters on his left palm and fingers. His Auntie felt very sad she had not watched him carefully enough to avoid this accident but Hippo quickly forgave her. Hippo maximizes his injuries for the most sympathy possible, so even though his blisters have healed to the point of rubbery new skin, he still inspects them carefully and says, "Oh. Oh NO! Owie! Kiss it better. Poor baby!"

We placed our house on the market and Hippo has a very hard time understanding why he can't pull the items out of the pantry anymore and why I lose it every time he pulls the items out of the donation box and why I anxiously usher him away from all windows out of which he is accustomed to gazing at cows and tractors daily.

Then, "Mommy-Daddy" (he refers to the both of us as one, hyphenated, name) abandoned him for several days while they traveled to Philadelphia. He had a difficult time understanding why he couldn't come, and quite frankly so did I; until I remembered that flying across the country is not all that relaxing without a toddler. For the first two days of his visit with Grandma he felt liberated from Mommy-Daddy's ridiculous rules, scheduling, nagging, and incessant "NO's". By the third day he began to request "Mamma" especially when his head rammed a side table leaving a large goose egg on the right side of his head. Waking up Sunday morning I thought Hippo would punish us for leaving him but he was so happy we were home, he almost acted like us being gone was just a bad dream which he was glad was now over.

On Sunday I wasn't feeling up to attending Hippo's weekly highlight, church. Then on Monday I wasn't feeling up to going to the gym either, even though I teased him by getting all ready. He asked all day to "Go to gym?"

Tuesday, Hippo woke up with a fever which lasted through Wednesday and he developed no other symptoms other than a terrible cough. At times he will cough so hard he will throw up. Unfortunately this was the case last night after dinner when he threw up taco salad and a plum all over me (wearing my precious white robe). What's funny is that he doesn't mind this throwing up at all and will simply say, "I throw up! I throw up!"

Finally, I have been struggling with winter-long ailments and stress-induced anxiety myself which has essentially put me "out of commission" as the active mother with whom he is intellectually stimulated and happy. I do the basics: feed, bath, kiss and hug, sing, read, usher anxiously away from windows, and place in time out for hitting. But I know it is not enough and it causes me great sadness to see him suffer, especially when he is old enough to understand things are not right but not old enough to understand why.

But Heavenly Father keeps little ones in mind.

Yesterday during lunch he exclaimed "HELICOCKER!" It took me a minute to realize he was telling me that the monthly power line checks, done by a helicopter hovering very close to our house for about 20 minutes, was fast approaching. When I realized this I swiftly grabbed him out of his high chair and let him stick his face and sticky fingers to the french doors windows and stare to his heart content. Every couple of minutes he looked my way, sitting next to him, and said something about the helicopter. Otherwise he carried on a private conversation with it, "HI! helicocker. What you doing? Cows out there. Tractor out there. Truck out there. See you later helicocker." After it left I asked him if he loves or likes the helicopter and he looked at me seriously and said, "Like."

And then, after his bath last night he asked, like he does every night, for me to lift him up to look out the small bathroom window in an attempt to see the moon. He has not been able, much to his breaking two year old heart, to see it for several weeks. Last night, the clouds dispersed just enough for a silvery full moon to shine into a small bathroom window in Utah to brighten a small child's grim month. "OH! MOON!" he cried. So we gazed at it for several minutes even though my arms and legs began to shake while trying to hold up the stout 30 pounds. Tonight, there it was again and this time he yelled, "OH! ANOTHER MOON!"

Yes, Heavenly Father loves Hippo. And so do I.

The City of Brotherly Love

L and I traveled to Philadelphia last weekend for an interview with University of Pennsylvania (for Luke's graduate school). Though he is decided on Oakland University in Michigan, we thought it would be fun to have an excuse to travel to Philadelphia 1) to see the sights 2) to see what the oldest University in America is like 3) to eat an authentic Philly Cheesesteak Sandwich 4) experience a very big city. We stayed in a high rise and didn't see the actual sun until the end of our trip when we traveled outside of the metro area...it was weird.

The Liberty Bell

Luke riding a monumental mouse

One of the things we liked a lot about Philadelphia was that it was a pedestrian-friendly city. It was quick and simple to walk around and find interesting things including Rocky!

I was not nearly as excited about Rocky as L was (is).

Rocky, I mean L, dancing around to "Gonna Fly Now" at the top of the stairs at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. We passed on the Picasso exhibit--we saw our fair share in Paris a few years ago.

It made me worry, for Rocky, that my feet are nearly as big as his are.

Independence Hall (where the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were debated/drafted)

I don't know if the picture captures all 13 tables (one for each colony) but here is the room where it all went down.

Our tour guide was incredibly enthusiastic which made our experience in one of the most historical significant places a little bit spiritual (I hope that saying that is not sacrilegious).

This is the actual chair in which George Washington sat as he presided over the constitutional debates.

Ben Franklin wondered, at a dire moment in the debates, whether the sun on this chair represented a rising or setting sun on the American Nation. After the delegates arrived at a compromise Ben Franklin felt assured it was a rising sun.

"Happy Valentimes Day"

In the beginning of the video he is saying, "Watch, watch," because he loves to watch videos of himself on the camera and blog. The other day I showed him the video of him throwing a temper tantrum in the last post. As I watched him watch himself I saw a sour facial expression (normally he finds himself quite charming and funny) sprout. I asked him if the baby was being naughty and he said rudely, "NO!" and glared at me.

L and I made Hippo, and ourselves, chocolate dipped strawberries for Valentine's Day. Clearly, he loved them. After his first one he asked for "more strawberry candies."

Even though Hippo's strong attitude poses parenting challenges, L and I continue to be captivated and in love with our baby. Watching him grow is our greatest joy and makes us fall a little deeper in love each day.

I'm Not Going To Lie

This parenting gig is not easy for me.

Hippo was born opinionated and determined, qualities I admire. Qualities that pose parenting challenges to the opinionated and determined, however.

I spent several hours researching temper tantrums and hitting last night, including a literature review of my child development library. What I found was discouraging, and confirmed my suspicions--there's not much to do until age 3.

Though there is not much to do in the scope of teaching them "NO HITTING!" and "NO THROWING TOYS!" and "NO HITTING MOMMY!" and "NO THROWING TOYS AT MOMMY'S FACE AT POINT BLANK DISTANCE!" and "THERE IS NO WAY, SHAPE OR FORM, THAT TEMPER TANTRUM IS GOING TO GET WHAT YOU WANT...BY THE WAY, WHAT IN THE WORLD IS IT THAT YOU WANT?" there are several things that can be done to avoid temper tantrums. The discouraging part is...I am doing ALL of them faithfully, consistently, clearly, and well.

So, am I a failure or not?

And Hippo is not even two years old yet!?

The above example is 1/1000 of what has become an 'average' tantrum. The above example is funny, an average tantrum is not funny.

Mid-Winter Zoo Trip

L works with a girl that says the only reason she works as a nurse is so she can volunteer at the Hogle Zoo. She has encouraged L to take Hippo this winter. She says the animals are much more active and it is a better zoo-experience than the traditional spring/summer excursions. "I don't buy it," I kept telling L until Sunday night when I had been complaining for 72 hours straight about 1) being sick for 2.5 weeks (the flu, cold, sinus infection, not sure what is currently going on) 2) Hippo being sick for 2 weeks (cold, sinus infection, and then pink eye) 3) my IT band being strained, again, preventing me from a thorough workout 4) L going skiing every Monday 5) getting our house ready to sell 6) not leaving the house for days as a result of the above mentioned when L said for the millionth time this winter, "Why don't you go to the zoo?"

I hate the Hogle Zoo. It's small, over-crowded, and there are more snack shacks/vendors than there are animal displays. I reviewed my other options for Monday: sit around, touch up paint, feel sorry for myself, deal with 467 temper tantrums, watch daytime television while trying to drown out 467 temper tantrums, clean out Hippo's baby clothes/closet, or deep clean the kitchen.

I chose to go to the zoo.

I figured that since it would be 45 degrees and sunny outside, and we could wear heavy coats there was no reason I couldn't take a pink-eyed kid (and a sick mom) to the zoo--he can't get anyone else sick there (he's been banned from all other children museums, the church nursery, and the gym daycare due to being sick). We both REALLY needed to get out of the house.

This mandrill came to the glass from the back of the exhibit to hang out with us. Hippo was quite take aback by the mandrill, which was surprising because I have never seen Hippo scared of an animal.

This tiger was pacing back and forth on this bridge. His brothers were off to the side gnawing on slabs of meat.

I was taken with this white wolf. There was only a description for the grey American wolf and so I am not sure what kind this one is. Isn't she beautiful? We talked to her for several minutes, Hippo refused to howl even though he knows how.

I included this guy in the picture because it shows how if this male giraffe bent down lower they could touch each other. The giraffe must have head lice because he itched his head the whole time were there. Hippo learned to say "giraffe" and I learned that giraffes have a special organ in their head, next to their brain, which adjusts to changes in air flow/pressure so the giraffe doesn't get dizzy or pass out. They are the only animals on the planet with this extra organ.

Now that's a big butt, Hippo and I kept saying to each other. Even though I didn't get it well on camera, this silver back gorilla was taken with Hippo. He mostly wandered around and ate but he would turn toward Hippo every couple of minutes and stare at him. He didn't like me nearly as much and always turned away from me. Hippo refused to pound his chest like I've taught him.

Does it surprise you that Hippo forced me to stop and gaze at this exhibit for 10 minutes?

There were only 30 other people in the park, maybe. It's the only time I've ever been to the zoo where I could take as long as I wanted to look at the animals, and at all angles. I have never seen all of the animals so active. My pictures of the cougars pacing and playing didn't turn out well, nor did my pictures of the bears running around. All of the primates were extraordinarily active, with monkeys coming right up to us and interacting with Hippo. One spider monkey ricocheted off of the glass (with his feet, about 20 feet high) right in front of my face. It was so funny.

Hippo's favorite part was the birds (I cannot believe he is not biologically related to his cousin, Buddy, who is more knowledgeable about animals and birds than an average adult). He loved the indoor rainforest area where parrots and other exotic birds flew around us freely. He also loved the duck and swan pond (I'm glad he's not traumatized by being pecked by a black swan this summer) and tried sneaking them a snack of pretzels and grapes. At one point we encountered a zoo worker who was holding a beautiful falcon, the fastest animal on the planet. Hippo loved this bird, who flapped her wings wildly for him. The zoo worker told us all about this beautiful bird and said that the orange/brown color on a bird's chest is called "roughage." I've heard this word before, probably from Buddy, but never knew exactly what it meant.

I've had a change of heart toward the Hogle Zoo. We'll remember to go in the winter, however.