Writing is a habit. The more you do it, the easier it is to do. I find that if I don’t blog for a few days, I start to run out of ideas to write about. Conversely, if I keep blogging, the ideas keep flowing.

I’ve considered myself a writer since I was about six or seven years old and was “published” in the school paper. I wrote an essay on our trip to a bread factory. I also had a poem published. I wrote poetry throughout my childhood and poetry became my personal emotional outlet for most of my life. I stopped writing about ten years ago when I decided to mostly be happy. (Real happy not the pretend happy of my twenties.) I find it difficult to write poetry unless I’m desperately sad and lonely or heartbroken.

I’ll trade happiness for heartbreak and poetry any day!

Even when I was a child, my poetry had a tinge of sadness. Consider this, written when I was around 11 years old and vacationing with my family at the Caspian Sea:

The wind blows
The sea roars
My feet are cold
on the naked floors

The sky hath grown dark
unto the sea
as the wind whispers
and wails at me

The sun has gone down
The moon has come up
My feelings are all mixed
and jumbled in a cup.

Yes, I wrote “hath.” I had just finished reading a biography of the Bronte sisters and was in a hath kind of mood. It really was storming, the floors really were bare and I had pink eye and sand in my butt from earlier in the day. All I remember of the trip was writing the poem. Which makes sense when you consider how much focus and effort it takes to concentrate one’s thoughts and express them in rhyme.

In college, a number of professors commented on my papers that I had an “easy, breezy writing style” and similar sentiments. That little bit of unsolicited praise was all it took for me to decide to become a writer. After graduation, I landed a job at an ad agency and within months became their copywriter.

I continued with jobs that required a great deal of writing until my mid-30′s. I found that writing for a living took the pleasure and joy out of writing for me. It became something I had to do instead of something I wanted/needed to do. I was a pretty good copywriter, which is to say I can write short, pithy bits. I tried to write a novel – indeed, I still have several ideas for one – but I’m just not that kind of writer. I remember being VERY excited when I first read “Tales of the City.” The whole book is mostly dialogue and short, short chapters. I thought, “Hmmm, maybe I CAN write a novel if I do it like that.” Of course, I’m not funny enough and so that dream died.

As I advanced in my career, I did less writing for work and seemed to give up writing for pleasure altogether. Until now. Blogging has become my modern-day journal, diary, place to express myself and have some fun. But there are days, like today, when I can’t think of a thing to write about. So I wrote about writing.

Yep, I hath done it.

I had a friend long ago who I knew during a particularly stressful time of my life; I had, in fact, been diagnosed with “generalized anxiety disorder.” Eileen, an absolute angel, told me to pick one day a week and designate it “Worry Day.” If anything came up during the week that was causing me angst, I was to put it away and agree with myself that I would pull it back out and worry my guts out about it on Worry Day (but not a minute before!).

Alas, Eileen died suddenly a couple of months after imparting that advice. (Yeah, can you believe it? Boy did that year of my life SUCK.)

Not to start on a downer but that’s my way of introducing that Tuesday is now my official Worry Day because it is the day I take my son to the OT. Lately, he’s done great during his sessions. Eats and behaves like a perfect angel. I have to bring video in to show Jessica how he is with us, which is to say, not so well behaved. I have video from the weekend where it took 7 or 8 minutes to get him to take ONE BITE of quiche. A dish he’s eaten with no trouble many times before. (To be fair, he does not do this at every meal, just a few times during the week.)

Jessica analyzed the video and suggested a couple of changes to my basic approach. On the video, I can be heard reminding Hunter that he can have some more yogurt after he “takes his bite.” I also encourage him by saying “you can do it.” No more, she says, because that’s still attention. I am to tell him to take his bite and shut the heck up. She taught me a new technique for controlling the waving arms and suggested that if he’s still fussing after about two minutes, I make the bite smaller or dip it in yogurt. Just to get him started.

After that first bite, he’s usually fine. She reminded me again that he has the skills and that this is all behavioral at this point. I asked how long after they “get it” at therapy do they start “getting it” at home consistently. She said typically about a month. So we’re a couple of weeks away. Fingers crossed!

She’s recommending that we have a behavioral psychologist come into the house to observe feeding time and make suggestions. So we’re working on finding one. It’s unlikely that insurance covers this. <sigh> We weaned him off the Prevacid last week and she said to keep an eye on that because reflux can cause them to not want to eat.

But primarily, it’s a behavioral issue. And it’s subtle, small things because from what she’s observing, I am following the proper protocol. He is just super, super stubborn. And no, he didn’t get that from me. (Well, OK, maybe he did.)

How did I get here? Am I that big a pushover? What am I doing wrong? I have no idea but today is my one day a week to stress about it. Today is Worry Day.

Tomorrow, thank goodness, is another day.

We bought some beautiful Father’s Day cards just before we moved. I figured we’d be too busy with unpacking to get to the store so I wanted to plan ahead. I should wipe that pleased look off my place because I can’t find those cards anywhere! <sigh>

I did manage to get my dad and husband a gift, and we have a plan for his dad. So we did cover our bases there. (Thank you, Amazon.)

Are you watching the new season of So You Think You Can Dance? What do you think of the format featuring previous season “All Stars?” I love seeing some of those dancers (I’m talking to you, Allison!) but I miss the random pairings of contestants. Sometimes awkward, sometimes brilliant, pairing two contestants together to tackle new routines and choreography was always fun and interesting to watch their chemistry.

So I’m not sure I like the new format altogether. I do wish they would have the All Stars perform a group routine on Results Night. That would be cool.

I’ve been taking pictures of the new house and plan to start posting some next week. I decided to go ahead and take the pics even with the rooms half-unpacked. If I wait till everything is unpacked and decorated, it’ll never happen.

They’re still working on the house. The painters were here yesterday doing touch-ups; the flooring guys are coming today to repair some boards. The big deck staining incident continues; they have stripped most of the black stain but can’t get enough off the rails and pickets so they are replacing those next week. And then staining everything the correct color. I hope. There’s more but it’s boring and I just want it all done.

Forget the Target dog; my son LOVES the mannequin dogs at Old Navy. There are two and he likes to traipse back and forth through the store hugging and kissing each in turn. It’s too bad I don’t have videos because his squeals are precious. And a marketing note: I didn’t plan it this way but he is wearing Old Navy from top to toe.

Looking for more great photos? Grab a cup of tea or coffee and check out these sites that host more Wordless Wednesday entries: SevenClownCircus, 5MinutesforMom, and WordlessWednesday.

I cannot believe that three weeks ago, my son was vomiting and screaming bloody murder to eat a bite of fork mashed food and today . . . well, today, he FED HIMSELF banana, broccoli, chocolate doughnut, hot dog, pasta and French toast. With his fingers. He shoved the food in his mouth and I choked back the tears. I couldn’t believe it!

Here’s how it went down: We arrived at OT and I told Jessica he’s doing fine with eating his “big boy” food as long as we feed it to him on a spoon. And by “fine,” I mean he protests for the first few bites but usually eats the rest without fussing. This is a HUGE improvement from a few weeks ago. But the only food he’ll pick up and eat with his own fingers is a cereal bar and occasionally, pieces of a Vanilla wafer (but usually only if it’s in his stroller, not in his high chair). Jessica explained that our fingers are more sensitive than our mouths and it can take a while for kids with feeding disorders to pick food up. Truthfully, I can’t stand it if my hands are sticky so if he is a little “sensory” then he comes by it honestly.

She said this might take a while but we would begin working on it. We know he likes bananas because he will let me hold that in front of his mouth and he takes bites. So we started with a banana. She put her hand over his and showed him how to bring it to his mouth. No resistance. Hmmm . . . She tried again. Easy as pie. She told him to do it and he picked it up and shoved it in his mouth.

Then we cut bits up and put it on his tray and he picked one up after another and kept shoveling them in his mouth. I actually had to tell him to slow down and chew. I never thought I’d get to say those words!

After he had the banana down, we started putting bits of other types of food on his tray. He occasionally protested but we just told him he had to do it (and rewarded him with bites of yogurt). We clapped and praised him.

Honestly, I’m still in a little bit of shock. My husband was choked up, too, when I told him about it. It was like watching some other toddler, merrily putting bits of food in his mouth. We’ll be working on this at home, but if he keeps it up, then WE’RE DONE! He’s 19 months old and finally, off baby food. And this close to being done with feeding therapy. Wow.

He did it!!! And look how pleased he is with himself. Well done, Son. Well done.

Archaeologists have discovered a leather shoe that is 5,500 years old. It’s not fancy but I assume it got the job done back in the cave man days. I read about it in the New York Times.

Also in the Times, I read that folks are beginning to wonder if parents spend too much time on their smartphones and laptops and not enough time interacting with their kid. Well, duh. Actually, it did make me think. I try to not work when I’m alone with my son in the morning but have a hard time not sneaking a peek at my RSS reader while he’s playing with his cars. But I know he looks over at me and he always sees my face buried in my phone (or Kindle). Probably not a good idea.

Finally, I think this quick read from Real Simple on how to tell when eggs go bad is useful and worth bookmarking. I always forget the drop-it-in-water test (if it sinks, it’s probably OK) and go digging around for some Hints from Heloise printout I have that’s probably 20 years old. Next time I forget, I’ll just search my blog!

Hope you all have a great weekend! We’re heading to a soft launch of a new farmer’s market in our area and have plans to hang out with some friends. Oh, and maybe we’ll unpack a few more boxes, clear out the garage so we can get our cars in, and hang some pictures. Or maybe not. We’ll see what the munchkin wants to do. He’s such a cutie and so much fun. He’s really our favorite thing to “do.” Much funnier than any TV show (well, except maybe “Modern Family,” which is pretty darn hysterical.)

This close to closing, that is. Tomorrow is the Big Day. We were supposed to close a few weeks ago but the bank we were working with was not answering our simple questions so we started the process all over again with another bank. Our builder kindly let us go ahead and move in. So we’re in the house but it won’t be officially ours until tomorrow.

This is my first time owning a home. Chris bought our last house before we had even met. I bopped around the country so much with jobs that I never felt settled in any one place long enough to buy. So tomorrow will be my first time experiencing the sign-your-life-away phenomenon that my friends have told me about. I hope it goes smoothly. And I hope my husband took the whole day off because maybe we could go to a matinee movie or a nice lunch after the closing to celebrate.

It’s funny, as we’re getting paperwork together for the bank and are in the midst of the mortgage process, I am reading “The Big Short” by Michael Lewis, which is all about the mortgage meltdown, credit default swaps and CDOs (which sadly, I have forgotten what that stands for). It’s a compelling book (he wrote “The Blind Side”) that absolutely reads like fiction – not just because what happened is UNBELIEVABLE but also because Lewis is a gifted writer. I’m about 39% done (haha – joke for you Kindle people) and so far, I’d recommend it without hesitation. I was afraid it was going to be one of those books I “needed” to read and would be a slog, but I promise you, the author breathes so much life into his characters (er, real people) and explains the technical stuff really well that it is practically a page-turner.

Everything made him giggle. Good times.

Looking for more great photos? Grab a cup of tea or coffee and check out these sites that host more Wordless Wednesday entries: SevenClownCircus, 5MinutesforMom, and WordlessWednesday.

Tuesday, dreaded Tuesday. I have a love/hate thing going on with our weekly OT sessions. Love that we have professionals working with him and helping him along; hate that he has such a tough time. Much crying ensues. And after last week’s HELLACIOUS setback, I thought today’s session was going to suck. So I am VERY happy to report that we had a GREAT session today!

Hunter huddled and hid on my lap at first. He protested when we put him in the high chair. But hey, I’ll take protest over the full-on scream fest we had last week. I fed him bites of fruit, black beans, ham, dehydrated corn and peas, steamed broccoli and carrots, fruit cereal bar, and yogurt as a reward in between. He took all his bites and barely fussed.

Basically, he made a liar out of me. I had been emailing Jessica (his OT) and started the session off showing her a video of just how awful it was last week. And then he proceeded to have one of his best sessions ever.

To top it off, Jessica had asked for Liz, the social worker to sit in and give us tips on how to handle his regressive behavior. And lo and behold! He behaved great. Thank goodness I had the Flip video so I could prove I wasn’t a crazy lady.

Liz did give me some other behavioral tips and told me that they should have done a better job of informing me of the ebbs and flows of therapy. Two steps forward, one step back (OK, one mile back last week).

After the OT, we went to Buster Brown (there’s an old Buster Brown shoe store at Lenox Square; Buster Brown shoes don’t exist any more but the guy opened the store way back in the day and just kept the name). Marcel, the 86-year old sales woman, measured my son’s foot and he now has his first properly-fitting pair of shoes! And now Mommy knows what size to look for online on sale.

Great morning.

Have you seen these pictures making their way around the Internets?

Yeah, I know it’s childish of me to pile on but this is the kind of thing that spreads faster than strep. The days of protecting your image and brand are OVER. Not just for BP, but for all of us who own a business. You can’t protect it; you have to sit up, take your lumps like a man (pardon the sexism), own what you did if you screwed up, do everything you can to make it right. Don’t take shortcuts or b.s. your customer (I’m talking to you, Toyota and you, Sigg, and you, BP) because we’re onto you and we will tell all our friends who will tell their friends and so on and so on and so on.

And you will live in infamy forever.

I still have businesses tell me they don’t want a Facebook page or a blog because they’re afraid they’ll get negative comments. Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? The COMMENTS? How about the actual issues your customers have? Address them. And you know what? When you address them forthrightly in a public forum, most people will forgive you and even reward you for doing the right thing.

Having said that, I think it’s too late for BP. What do you think? Any shot of damage control here or are they done?

(Cross posted over at my business blog, New Thought Marketing)

I know it sounds like a gift for a girl but my husband always takes his wedding band off when he washes his hands and after one-too-many “Honey, I can’t find my ring” episodes, I decided to put ring holders near all the sinks in the house. Trouble us, most were too girlie or frilly or Victorian (yuck). I searched until I found a modern, clean-line, dare I say “masculine” ring holder. And here it is, made by Nambe. It’ll set you back $75 so it’s a splurge item but if your man is the sort who sheds his ring(s) often, it might be just the unique gift you’re looking for.

Keep checking back. I’ll be blogging other Father’s Day gift ideas all month. And if you have some unique ideas, please post them in the comments. Thanks!

Here are some totally random blogs from famous people that I find fascinating:

Jay Rayner, food critic and judge on Top Chef, writes with wit and a full arsenal of sharp critiques. How can you not love a post that begins like this:

If I see someone using a knife and fork to eat spare ribs, I just know that I will want to punch them . . . I am yet to meet a meal that absolutely demanded a trip to the cutlery drawer. It’s amazing what you can do to a risotto by scooping with the middle and index finger, and the only thing that stops me lifting up a bowl of soup to my lips is the appalled stares of others. When I’m alone, the spoon can go hang.

Delicious!

Roger Ebert’s blog is nothing short of a revelation. He writes of movies, of course, but also of current events, pop culture, his critics, and whatever else moves him. His post about his father was moving, but not overly so. I felt I really got to know him and his family reading it, and I never felt he tried to manipulate my emotions as so many writers would when writing of a departed one. His writing allowed me to feel what I wanted to feel. No easy feat.

Until the day he died, I always called him “Daddy.” He was Walter Harry Ebert, born in Urbana in 1902 of parents who had emmigrated from Germany. His father, Joseph, was a machinist working for the Peoria & Eastern Railway, known as the Big Four. Daddy would take me out to the Roundhouse on the north side of town to watch the big turntables turning steam engines around. In our kitchen, he always used a knife “your grandfather made from a single piece of steel.”

And then there’s Diana Agron, the actress who plays Quinn on Glee. Her blog isn’t wordy so much as it is a series of pictures, short posts, and videos that all add up to what I think is a great introduction to a young, creative soul in Hollywood. Here’s part of her tribute to her mom on Mother’s Day:

Mom,

I know I already wrote you something else, but this is my second note to you. You introduced me to Audrey Hepburn and I fell in love with movies, found my passion and dreams. Just like all my observations of her and her life, you demonstrate grace, compassion and humanity better than most.

I keep a folder in my RSS reader marked “fun” for blogs like these. I could just as easily mark that folder “inspirational” because I find these bloggers’ creativity and ability to communicate inspiring.

What do you read for fun? Have any interesting blogs to share with me?

Hope you all have a great weekend. We’re going to the PDK air show tomorrow. My little boy LOVES airplanes (is there a child who doesn’t?) so we are really looking forward to this.

Five times a day, I feed my son. That’s five screaming, crying, twisting to get out of his seat, Mommy-please-save-me sessions. Five times a day, I encourage him to take his bite and watch him refuse, shake his head, and sob. Five times a day, I have to maintain an implacable countenance as he chokes, gags, and occasionally – like yesterday and just now – vomits. When he vomits, I have to throw a towel over it, say “that’s OK” and make him take another bite. (Otherwise, he will learn that he can vomit to stop the feeding.)

The OTs are telling me this is a regression because we moved and it is temporary. They are telling me to stay firm. It’ll be better in a week. That Hunter has to learn and that I have to be “the boss.” (As his second OT, Karen, told me today, “you are the dictator in this situation.”)

Nobody is telling me how to stop crying in the shower or mend my broken heart. I just want to scoop him up and let him drink a bottle of milk forever. I know I can’t and I know that’s bad for him but this is absolutely draining us both. Five times a day my heart breaks.

I don’t want to feel sorry for myself. I know my son’s disorder is relatively mild and that there are moms out there who are dealing with much tougher things. They are truly brave and courageous. Admittedly, I am weak when it comes to this stuff.

Give me a tough CEO prick any day. Hell, give me the BP execs. I think I can handle them better than my 19-month old.

Ask my son if he’s hungry and if he is, he replies, “Num-a-num-a num.” His version on “yummy,” I suppose. As he’s eating more table foods, he’s discovered ice cream and – SPOILER ALERT – he loves it. (Having struggled with his feeding issues, it’s a GREAT thrill to see him love something non-baby food – even if it is all sugar and fat.)

Looking for more great photos? Grab a cup of tea or coffee and check out these sites that host more Wordless Wednesday entries: SevenClownCircus, 5MinutesforMom, and WordlessWednesday.

Don’t get me wrong; I love our OT, Jessica. I just hate taking Hunter to feeding therapy sessions (and he feels the same way). Every Tuesday, I grab a shower while the nanny packs up the food we want to work with, and we head out the door to fight the last vestiges of rush hour traffic en route to our appointment.

We usually conduct our sessions on the floor, with Hunter in my lap. He was so hysterical when we first started back in January that we couldn’t get him to calm down in the high chair. We found we made more progress if I held him. But Jessica wants to start replicating the home feeding environment so he’s back in the chair. And he’s NOT HAVING IT. Crying, screaming, BIG tears rolling down, twisting to get out of the chair to me, and BIG RED SPLOTCHES on his forehead. That’s how upset he was. He had splotches.

I keep telling Jessica that she needs to bring me a margarita if she expects me to sit through this every week. <sigh>

But really, how can I complain? My poor little guy is having to do all the hard work and he’s scared to death, and mad as hell.

So where are we? He has two finger foods he’ll eat now, which is a big milestone: cookies and those soft cereal bars. We were at the zoo this weekend and I put little bits of cookies in the food tray in his stroller and he stuck his dirty little hands in there and fed himself cookies. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME.

He’s still screaming and refusing foods at meal time. My homework for this week is to regain control of meal times. When Hunter puts up a fuss, I sometimes say, “I’ll wait for you to calm down” while I hold the spoon in front of his face (as he furiously shakes his head “no!”). Apparently, I’m not supposed to do that because he can use it as a control device. Hmmm. . . who knew. So I have to make him take his bites. And when he gags and chokes – as he always does – I stay calm and remind him to chew and swallow. Jessica says he has the skills and it’s all behavioral at this point.

I suppose it won’t be the first or last time I have to break him of bad behavior but dammit, this is HARD work. Every single meal and snack. That’s five times a day if you’re counting. Thank goodness for the nanny who gets a couple of those! (And she is really, really good with the feeding therapy.)

Also, the other times I’ve worked on behavioral issues, well, they’ve been easier. It took about two days for him to quit screaming about holding my hand in parking lots. Sleep training was a breeze compared to this. . . a few nights and he had it down. This takes months or years and is a brutal, slow process. And I hear horror stories all the time about the kids who are 3 or 4 and still problem eaters. I hope my little guy sorts it out.

Tonight, he made it through a small sliver of spinach quiche. We don’t give him any baby food; just age-appropriate “real” food. I don’t think he’s getting as many calories as he was on baby food so we have to watch his weight and make sure he doesn’t start to lose weight or fall off his curve.

Still, with all the fussing and small steps, it’s important to remember that three weeks ago, the kid choked on one small bite of cereal bar. And now it’s his favorite food and he feeds himself! So we’re getting there.

Right?

Right.

p.s. – Sorry for the rambling nature of these posts. It’s impossible to collect my thoughts on such an emotional issue. I mostly put this up for other mothers who might be going through this. I had a tough time finding info on it online so I’m hopeful this will help somebody some day. There is hope. It does get better. Stick with it!

And send me a margarita mix.