My Baby's Growing Up

I should have been a Boy Scout. Always Be Prepared, that’s my motto. When I found out I was expecting our first child, I practically memorized What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I charted my Daily Dozen (enough dark green veggies? too much salt?) and avoided nitrates like the plague. I checked diaper prices at different stores, bought lots of plain white onesies, and practiced my Lamaze breathing. I read everything I could get my hands on and I understood that babies needed lots of love, that taking care of one was hard work, and that in those newborn months I would be really, really tired.

Except I didn’t. I didn’t really understand at all. As all mothers know, the books can describe motherhood for us, but until we’re there, we don’t really get it. I didn’t realize, for example, the enormous responsibility I would suddenly feel for this life, this tiny little life I was holding in my arms, that would one day grow into a man. I didn’t know how overwhelming it would be to take care of such a tiny little soul. I knew I’d be tired, but I didn’t understand that the exhaustion would be overwhelming. I never expected to feel angry when my sweet baby, just a few weeks out of the womb, woke up in the middle of the night hungry, once again. I never imagined the morning that I’d beg my husband to stay home, to please stay home and help, as I crumpled onto my bed in tears.

But time passed. After a few months, my growing baby started sleeping 12 hours a night, and with uninterrupted sleep, my sanity returned. One day followed the next, and soon he was smiling and clapping and sitting up in the bathtub. Life was good. When my next baby came, I was ready. This time I expected the exhaustion, and made accommodations for it. The second time around was so much easier, and I breathed a sigh of relief. By the time he was 6-months old, we were all into the swing of things and life with two little ones was even better than I could’ve predicted. A few years later, my third son tried to derail all of us with his constant preference for me. Used to babies that napped well and slept through the night after a few months, I didn’t know what to do with this insistent little guy, who complained every single night when I placed him in his crib. I rocked, and consoled, and tried my best, but he never wavered. He was almost 1 ½ before he went to sleep without complaint, and many of those nights I cried right along with him. But time kept ticking, and he’s grown into a lovely boy, a charmer, a complete sweetheart who sleeps like an angel.

As my angels sleep, I continue to read. I read about toddlers, I read about discipline, I read about raising boys and feeding kids and learning styles. And I find a lot of good stuff in these books, really, I do. But I’ve reached a point, once again, where books have failed me. While I understand perfectly well that my children are independent souls, while I know that part of my goal in raising them is to help them become strong, compassionate young men with thoughts of their own, I find myself as unprepared for their growing up as I was for their newborn midnight waking. As my oldest becomes a teenager, I know that this boy is not merely an extension of me; he is his own person. And yet it feels like a part of my body is tearing away, I can feel the flesh ripping, near my heart, while tears pour from my eyes when I lay down at night. My mind understands it all, but my heart is breaking.

We still have time, I know. Six years until he leaves for college, and we still have the joy of puberty to endure in the meantime. I am excited to see the man he becomes, but I can still feel the baby in my arms, and I can’t imagine how we’ve gotten this far already. Thirteen years ago, older moms in the grocery stores and restaurants cooed at my baby and I didn’t understand. They told me to enjoy my little one, because the time goes so fast. But my days and nights seemed endless then, and I didn’t get it; I couldn't comprehend. Countless parents have informed me that when my son hits high school, it’s a flash and he’ll be gone. Be Prepared, I tell myself. Be Prepared. But I know, now, I know that no matter how often I hear it or how much I read about it, I won’t be. I won’t ever be prepared for the leaving and I can’t possibly understand what it will feel like until we get there. But that’s something, I think. Recognizing that phases and stages will take me by surprise, understanding that I’m not prepared: there’s something to that, and I think that’s the best I can do for now.

A True List Maker

I am a list maker, as was my mother before me, and her mother before her.  I know this because I’ve seen them.  Lists have graced our kitchen tables, our countertops and our refrigerators for years.  Although my grandmother is gone, I’m sure she’s proud that I’m carrying on this fine, organized, family tradition.

One of my essential lists is the Vacation List.  My husband takes care of his own packing, but it’s me who packs for the rest of us.  Just recently, I’ve been able to hand the boys a list of their own:  choose 5 pairs of shorts, 2 pairs of jeans, 6 shirts, etc. and set them on your bed. (I still count before putting them into the bags, just to be sure.  I’d hate to end up in Italy, for example, with 1 pair of boy's socks and underwear!)  But in years past my list was an entire page long, filled with reminders to bring extra playpen sheets and diapers and onesies.  Don’t forget the blankie, or toys for the plane (or car), and certainly don’t forget the baby Advil, just in case.  (They don’t sell that many places, you see.)  Even now, with the boys chipping in, I am the keeper of the Master List, responsible for making sure that clean skivvies are available for all and asthma medicine is packed and ready to go.

My list has three parts: To Pack (now); To Pack (once it’s clean); and To Pack in the AM (before we leave).  I arrange my list this way because it’s how my brain works.  To file these things together would leave me scrambling – Did I pack that yet?  Is that in the wash?  Do I have all of the toothbrushes?  And the AM list is essential, because anyone who knows me knows that I must be awake at least a full hour before my brain gears actually engage.  Until then, it’s slushy up there and I need a list to follow to be sure my hairbrush makes the trip.  It missed the last one, which apparently started a little too early for me to even follow a list correctly.

Of course I also make To Do lists (To Do Today, To Do Soon, To Respond To, etc); I make grocery lists (separate ones for the supermarket, Costco, and farmer’s market); I make lists about things I’d like to accomplish, things I’d like to do with my kids, books I hope to read, and ideas for writing.  My most productive days happen when I follow a well-constructed list.

I wonder if my grandmother felt that way.

Did I mention that my mother’s maiden name is List?

Legos and Kids: The Pros and Cons

Legos are both a blessing and bane in our house.

My kids have been playing with Legos for a hundred years.  Or, maybe, it just feels like a hundred years.  We started with the baby Duplos, progressed to those big bricks (also Duplos?), and have now graduated to the tiny little pieces that make me scream every time I step on one.  From what I’ve heard, I think my feelings about those tiny pieces are akin to the way mothers of girls feel about multiple Barbie shoes.  Ouch.

Lego Pros:

• Help develop small motor skills
  
• Encourage creativity
  
• Stimulate that how-pieces-fit-together side of the brain
  
• Hours of relatively quiet play
  

Lego Cons:

• A bazillion little pieces everywhere
  
• Countless completed projects, decorating every level surface
  
• Tears when a favorite piece is needed, but is already in use
  
• Did I mention the bazillion little pieces?
  

Despite these cons, we’ve continued to encourage Lego building.   All three of our boys spend hours with their creations.  I know that one day in the future my house will be free of the tiny, painful, little Lego pieces.  The floor will be as neat in the evening as it was in the morning.  No new creations will grace my coffee table.

What a sad day that will be.

My Favorite Season

This summer has been filled with friends and books and long days at the cottage. I love these days without rushed schedules and juggling mealtimes. It’s such a treat to be able to make dinner whenever we’re all hungry, without working it around a meeting or practice or game. Summer is a solidifying force in our family, and I aim to keep it that way.

That said, summer isn’t my favorite time of year. It’s not even close. Fall wins, every time.

 Every season has its perks, and there are things I enjoy whenever the weather changes. That first, beautiful snowfall, that comes down on a dark night and blankets our world with a soft white blanket; the tiny buds on the trees and the flowers pushing their way up to the warmth and light; the laughter of the boys on the tube behind the boat and long walks along the beach: all of these things, I enjoy.

But fall stands alone as my favorite, year after year. I love the colors of the leaves, the cooler days and much cooler nights, but more than anything, it’s the sense of renewal that calls me. You might think this would happen in January, when the rest of the world is celebrating the start of a new year, or in the summer, when we have more family time than we could even imagine at other times of year. But it doesn’t. For me, the new year begins in the fall.

It’s just around the corner now, and I’ll embrace it when it arrives, but I’m not wishing summer away yet. I’m still looking forward to sunny days at the beach and reading books in the hammock. I’m still enjoying walking to the farmer’s market and making dinner when the need arises. I’m still taking advantage of these slower schedules to create memories with my kids. Every season has its perks, after all.

photo credit: graybeard763

The Most Important Tip for Newlyweds

I’m about to do something I loathe: I’m going to offer you a little unsolicited advice. I loathe this mostly because I loathe receiving it. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask. Otherwise, I find it rather insulting to be offered advice nilly willy, as if I haven’t the brains to think something through for myself.

For this topic, however, experience counts. No matter how smart you are, how savvy, how very much in love with your husband-to-be, you can’t hold a candle to experience. So here it is, the one thing I think every newly married couple absolutely ought to do:

Nope, it's not here.

It's over here, in my post at Wedded Bliss.

I Haven't Cooked For Days

Yes, it's true.  It all started last week, when my kids headed back east with their grandparents for a little R&R.  Or a candy-laden, amusement-park--bowling alley--movie watching-kind of week.  Whatever.  My husband and I headed to the nearby ski hill that night because we enjoy skiing in July.  Nope, that's not really why.  I'm not that crazy, people!  No, we headed north sans ski gear because in a moment of sheer genius, someone in charge of our local symphony decided years ago that people would pay good money to sit outside on the ski hill in the summer and listen to them play.  And, man, were they on the money.  We made the first trip ten years ago, and have only missed a couple of times.  We've even roped our friends into paying good money, too.

In our picnic basket this year:

• a bottle of Palazzo della torre wine (which rocked, by the way)
• prosciutto, kaseri cheese, and arugula sandwiches on rosemary ciabatta (made by me)
  
• a motherload of grapes
  
• english toffee cookies (not made by me)
  
• red licorice, cheese & crackers, and pretzel nuggets for the masses

The evening ended with a beautiful display of fireworks set off at the top of the ski hill.  It was fan-tab-u-lous.

Since then, we've had nachos for dinner while watching the incredibly stupid, entirely inappropriate (kid-free here, folks!), yet also hilarious movie, Role Model; had lunch at two of our favorite outdoor haunts; enjoyed a 10PM meal at the bestest burger bar ever; and generally, not put a single thought into whether we need groceries.  It's been quite lovely, albeit a bit pricey.  But hey, with just two of us, we can eat out twice as often, right?

Reality approaches.  Planned meals.  PB&J.  Ewww, Mom, do I have to eat this?

I sure do miss those boys.

My Favorite Books: Ten Books That Make Me Think

The books speak to me.  As I look up from the table at the library, where I’m spending most of my day today, I glance up at this shelf of teen books, and I hear them.  They tell myriad stories:  some sad, some adventurous, some scary, and some very, very funny.  We read them, and they challenge us.  If we're lucky, sometimes they even change us.

One of the reasons I enjoy belonging to a book club, is that it forces me to read books I may not choose otherwise.  I’ve never been a big fan of biographies, for example, but a few years ago we read John Adams, by David McCullough.  It surprised me—I liked it!—and it remains one of my favorite books.  David MuCullough brought their world to life for me in a way that no history class ever did.  As a mother and wife, I empathized with Abigail Adams and realized that she was made of much tougher stuff than I am.  I’m still amazed by her story, as much as his.  

But it’s not just serious stories that capture me.  I’ve loved reading for as long as I can remember.  As a child, I spent hours in libraries – in every town we called home, and in my grandmother’s town, too, which we visited several times a year. In those early days, I enjoyed a good mystery and I was especially fond of Nancy Drew.  I admired her courage and her wisdom.  I liked her friends, Bess and George; I thought having a boyfriend like Ned Nickerson was pretty cool, too.  But most of all, I loved their adventures.  They took me along with them, to discover the Secret of the Old Clock and solve the Password to Larkspur Lane.  When I read these books, I wasn’t a 10-year old girl reading a story.  The words of Carolyn Keene transported me, as I solved the mysteries right along with Nancy, Bess, and George.  Those stories changed me, as books would continue to right up to today, as I questioned and pondered and discovered new ideas.  Books open worlds we may never contemplate without them.  Don't you agree?

If you’re in the mood for a good read—although not necessarily an uplifting one—here are a few others I count among my favorites.  This list is by no means exhaustive—there are many, many books I’ve enjoyed over the years.  However, these remain among my top picks because no matter how many times I read them, they always make me think.   They challenge me, and they change me.  I hope you'll discover their magic, too.

·      Lord of the Flies, William Golding

·      The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

·      Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh

·      The Good Earth, Pearl S. Buck

·      A Fine Balance, Rohinton Mistry

·      The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls

·      Three Cups of Tea, Greg Mortenson

·      The Life of Pi, Yann Martel

·      Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain

·      The Red Tent, Anita Diamant

Are any of these among your favorites?  Are there books you love that I didn't include?  Please leave me a comment and let me know.  I'm always up for a new read.

Footnote:

On one particular visit to my aforementioned grandmother’s library, I noticed a few Nancy Drew books I’d already read, that had different covers from the ones I owned.  As a frequent re-reader, I checked them out and was surprised to find that it wasn’t only the cover that was different.  The words were different, too!  The books in the Nancy Drew series have been updated throughout the years, and I’d stumbled onto a few earlier versions.  When I offered to replace the older books with new ones, the librarian agreed.  I couldn’t believe my luck.  I still have those books, and even though I haven't read them in years, I won’t be parting with them anytime soon.

A New Era

My oldest son started playing organized soccer when he was around 5 or 6, but he's kicked around a ball since he started walking. When his little brothers came along, he taught them the finer points of the game as he understood them, so they could play, too. He practiced, and trained, and played his heart out year after year.

This year, as tryouts approached, he let us know that he was thinking about taking a break from soccer. "I might like to try football next fall," he said. We talked to him about the pros and cons of both decisions, and asked him to think it over and let us know.

He did. And next month, he'll pull on football pants, shoulder pads, and a helmet, as he gives it his all. I know he'll play his heart out on that field, too. I'm excited to see him try something new.

But I sure will miss watching this:

Golfing with Grandma

...or How to Play the Longest Round of Golf in History...

As I may or may not have mentioned previously, both my brother and father are avid golfers.  My brother, charades talents aside, has serious golfer potential.

Me, not so much.  I love a golf course.  The pretty scenery, the sand, the little lakes.  But hitting the ball has never been my forte.

So, it was out of the goodness of my heart (and love for my father) that I suggested golfing as a fun family activity.  I suckered my visiting mother-in-law into joining us, which she happily did.  And lo and behold, she loved it!  

Of course, she had lots of free coaching.

And plenty of partners in crime.

So, all in all, it was a day well spent.  And if you're one of the golfers we allowed to play through, you are so very welcome.  Don't even mention it!

A Few More Fun Summer Games For Kids

I recently posted about the 9 summer games my kids like best, Clearly, we should've made it 10!  At the end of my post, I asked all of you to mention any we neglected.  

Without question, the #1 game we missed was Capture the Flag – who knew so many kids still played this?  Runners up:  2 & 4 Square (added by Allison, who didn't leave a link to a blog, but did provide a link on how to play!), Flashlight Tag (mentioned by phd in yogurty), and Kick the Can (suggested by Luanne).  

How cool is it that kids still play these games?  So now let's talk about grown-ups.  Are you a game player?  Card shark?  Outdoor games?  Golf or other sport?  Do tell! 

Cornhole, The Family Bean Bag Game

So I mentioned the cornhole game, right? Yeah, I know, that name sort of freaks me out, too. But still, the kids—yes, people, the kids—loved it. Being the fine parents we strive to be, we decided to buy a set for ourselves. When we asked where to find it, our friends (who introduced us to it) let us know that their set was a gift from a friend, who made it for them. And, “No!” they practically shouted, "Don’t dare buy one. Those are no good at all!” Unfortunately, their craftsman-type friend isn’t also our friend, so we were out of luck. “Make one!” they cheered. “Puh-lease,” I thought.

My industrious husband, however, thought it was a fine idea. He got it into his head that this was going to be a great father-son summer project. The boys would look up the dimensions online (warning: don’t Google corn-hole, who knows what you’ll get!), they’d shop for the materials, and away they’d go.

It sort of worked like that. Except the boys didn’t Google the dimensions, my husband did. And the boys didn’t help him shop for materials. I did. And I didn’t get nervous until I read this part of his list:

· thread

· fabric

· whole-kernel feed corn

Then, I got very nervous.

“Honey,” I said sweetly, “What’s the thread for?”

Smiling innocently, he practically chirped, “Oh, I thought you could make the beanbags.”

Now, how long have we been married?

“Has he gone mad?” I wondered. For a moment, it was a real possibility.

Not wanting to cause a horrible accident on the way to Home Depot, I amiably suggested that perhaps a sewing machine would be required for the creation of 8 homemade bean bags. My one lousy needle and thin black thread might not be sufficient, I theorized.

He remained certain I could pull it off.

I left him at Home Depot and quietly went in search of bean bags, which by the grace of God I found – a beautiful, sturdy, machine-made set of 8, just perfect for a family round of cornhole.

Thank you, Lord, for providing those bean bags!

They Call This Fun...

I'm on a Boat

If you're looking for a post about T Pain, this isn't it. You'll have to check Hulu or iTunes for that.

Nope, this is a family friendly post, people.

This morning, we pulled ourselves out of bed early to catch a high-speed ferry across the big lake. The ride's about 2 1/2 hours, just long enough for the boys to watch a movie ($4 each for headphones!) and for us to catch up on our reading while drinking pricey soda.

We're heading to see old friends, a bit of a theme this summer, which hopefully we can continue next year. Here's what I'm looking forward to: laughter, catching up, reconnecting, reminiscing, creating new memories, and, perhaps, a glass or two of wine.

What more could I ask?

Anybody else have plans for the weekend? Hope you enjoy yours, too.

Fun Summer Games for Kids: 9 of My Kids' Favorites

During the summer at our cottage, we are close technological cousins of the Amish.  No landline.  No television.  No computer for goodness sakes.  Wi-fi is a far off dream.

And yet my children survive.  One might even argue that they thrive.  Forced to find something else to do—I know, horrors!—they resort to good old-fashioned fun. And, surprisingly, when their friends arrive to visit, no one ever seems to notice our stunning lack of technological connectedness.  Instead, their friends simply join in the latest game.  It results in the kind of running, laughing, negotiating, and yes, even yelling, that's music to a parents’ ears.  It’s a unique kind of joy.

Are you looking for a few ways for your kids to have fun without Sponge Bob, iCarly, or Guitar Hero?  Invite some of their friends over and have them try a few of my boys’ favorites:

1. Ghost in the Graveyard.  In this game, which is played at dusk or dark, the kids choose a “base” and a person to be “It,” just like with hide-and-seek.  The person who’s “It” closes her eyes and counts to 12 in this manner:  “One-o’clock, two-o’clock, three-clock…” all the way to “Midnight,” which as far as I can tell must be yelled with extreme vigor. All of the other kids run and hide. (They don’t hide together; each child has their own hiding spot).  Once they choose a hiding spot, they can’t move—no sneaking to a new spot after the person who’s “It” starts looking.  When any child who’s hiding sees the person who’s “It,” they yell “Ghost in the Graveyard!” and everyone runs like crazy for base.  “It” tags as many of them as possible.  Everyone who gets tagged is “It” (together) for the next round.
2. Sardines.  This one’s also in the hide-and seek family, but can be played anytime of day.  It’s sort of like reverse hide-and-seek.  One person is chosen to hide.  Everyone else closes their eyes and counts, together, to 30 (or any agreed-upon number).  Then, they yell, “Ready or not, here we come!” and split up to find the Hider.  When any seeker finds the person hiding, they quietly join them.  The last one to find the group is the Hider the next time.
3. Hide and Seek Tag.  How many hide-and-seek variations are there?  Tons, apparently!  In this one, one child is “It” and everyone else runs and hides.  The person who’s “It” counts to 30 (or any agreed-upon number) and then yells, “Ready or not, here I come!”   “It” seeks out the other kids.  If she sees them, she tries to tag them.  If she’s successful, they become her partner and help find and tag the other kids.  If “It” doesn’t tag the child they find, that child can run off and hide again. There’s no “base” in this game.  Kids keep running and yelling and tagging until everyone has been tagged.  The first person who was tagged is “It” the next time.
4. Cornhole, the Bean Bag Game.  “Corn-what?” you ask.  That’s what I asked, anyway, the first time I heard of this game.  I’m not sure if it’s a game unique to the Midwest, or if I was just out of the Cornhole loop all my life, but this is a recent discovery for us, courtesy of our good friends, now referred to as the Cornhole Pros.  This game is perfectly acceptable to pull out for either kids or grown-ups, and is especially fun on those Sunday afternoons when friends are over for a burger and a beer.  If you haven't heard of it before, click here for the scoop on what it is and how to play.
   
5. Croquet.  Seriously, you know how to play this, right?  You may not have played since you were 12, but I think just about everyone’s played it at least once.  If somehow you missed it, you can read the instructions here.  This is a good all-family game, and the kids loooove to beat the grown-ups.  Get yourself a set.
6. Bocce ball.  Here’s another game I didn’t know about until after the age of 25.  I’m fairly certain I was introduced to it at a party when my husband’s Italian relatives dusted off an old set from the garage.  The great thing about Bocce is that you can play with almost anyone – young and old alike can be really good or really bad at Bocce.  Even even small kids can play (small like 5, not like, 2, unless they’ve got exceptional throwing skills!)  The gist is that you throw the little white ball and then everyone tries to get their ball closest to the little white one.  How’s that for a generic explanation.  Very detailed instructions, here.  If you don’t have a set, I highly recommend it for lots of Forced Family Fun.
7. Ultimate Frisbee.  The way my kids play this game, it’s kind of like football with a Frisbee.  There are two teams, and each team has an end zone.  The point of the game is to get the Frisbee into your endzone and score a point.  To start, each team lines up in front of an endzone.  The team with the Frisbee yells, “Ultimate!” then throw the Frisbee to the other team.  The player who catches it can take up to 2 steps and then must throw it to another teammate, working their way to the endzone. (I think my kids made up this 2-steps part.  In “real” Ultimate, I don’t think any steps are allowed.  Experts, feel free to weigh in!)  The defense (the team who initially threw the Frisbee), can’t hit other players or take the Frisbee directly out of the opponents hands, but they can block throws, knock down the Frisbee, or intercept it.  If an incomplete pass is made and the Frisbee hits the ground, the opposing team gets the Frisbee at that spot and heads towards their endzone.  The team with the most points wins.
8. Badminton.  Put the net up in your yard & hit the birdie over the net.  That’s the gist of it, although there are all sorts of official rules.  You can read them, here.
9. Traditional games:  football, basketball, tennis, soccer.  All still fun. 

There are a few other games my kids also enjoy, but they aren’t favorites, so I didn’t list them above.  Jarts (aka Lawn Darts) is one. We play with the newer version with the blunted ends, not the kind my brother and I tried to kill each other with.  Ladderball is another, although I suspect they’d like this better if we had a more sturdy set.  Ours is the plastic version with many, many pieces, some of which have mysteriously gone missing.  

How about your kids?  Do they have some favorite outdoor games you could share?  Are these some of their favorites, too?  Let me know what they like or we’re missing and I’ll share the ideas with other moms in a future post!

I Think I'm In Love With Wendy Kopp

The first time I heard her name, she was almost a peer.  Just a smidge ahead of me in school (except I wasn't at Princeton), I knew her name because she'd put her thesis to the test.  She theorized about sending new graduates who excel at academics--not necessarily education majors--into the toughest areas of our country, the areas where no one wants to start their teaching career.  And then she did it.  

She put her idea into practice and my roommate applied to be one of the first teachers selected for Teach for America.

My roommate grew up sheltered and, dare I say, privileged, in a beautiful town outside of Minneapolis.  We attended a similarly sheltered private school on the east coast.  Our friends were accepting jobs with Morgan Stanley and Anderson Consulting.  She accepted the role with Teach for America and started teaching in Compton, CA, near Los Angeles.  She taught at an elementary school that was padlocked shut at 4:00 each afternoon for safety reasons; better get out of there and safely home before then.  She has a lifetime of stories from those two years of teaching.

And Wendy Kopp's story goes on.  TFA's been around for almost 20 years now.  It's grown and expanded and become the center of many discussions about reforming education in our country.  And Ms. Kopp's grown with it.  

But for all of the things I admire about Wendy Kopp, I think what I most admire is this:  She didn't file her thesis in a drawer.  She didn't have this great idea, write about it, develop it, and then turn it into cocktail party fodder, bantering back and forth with cute men in khakis and loafers, about how she had some really great ideas about reforming education.  Instead, she raised capital and she put herself out there.  She tried it.  And she made it work.

I love her for that.

I love that she took her Ivy League education and did something powerful and meaningful with it.  I love that she had an idea about how to change the world and she didn't listen to the naysayers that said it could never happen.  What a wonderful message for our kids:  Work hard.  Think about others.  Develop your idea.  Pursue it.  Stick with it.  Figure out how to do it better.  

Thanks, Wendy.