I deserved it

 I thought I did a pretty good job on the cake. But then I did get it out and leave it on the table while we were waiting for the party guests to arrive (four of them). So I guess I can't be that surprised that this happened:

And this:

And this:

Happy Birthday, little stinker.

I am proud to be your mommy.

P.s., Here you can see the three layers that big sis requested:

Stonerstan!

Big Sis made up a word.

What does it mean?

"You say it when you fall down on your bum."

Then she demonstrates by running, taking a "fall," and shouting, "stonerstan!"

Every time she says it I picture somebody like this Simpson's character:

(This is Disco Stu. Even though the bus driver, Otto, is clearly a stoner, this guy seems like more of a "Stan" to me.)

Anyway, I just googled "Stoner Stan" and it turns out there's a meme for that. Ugh, there's a meme for everything.

Sometimes I hate the internet.

Thankful 2012

For my family (local and extended)

For my home

For my love (almost five years what?)

For my foremothers (both specifically and generally)

For grace and tender mercies

For a new baby and his five new cousins in the same year! (Hang in there til December, girls.)

For sweet hugs and hands and I-love-yous

For muddling through

For friends

For love stories

For courage

For examples

Election Reminiscing

1980: I was two.

1984: I think I knew the name of the President.

1988: Some people already know this--I may have even blogged about it --but when I was in fifth grade I played Michael Dukakis in our elementary school's mock election. This was when we lived in the Houston, TX area. Even I did not vote for myself. I think Dukakis got like two votes in my school. Surprisingly, I did not take this personally at all. I remember asking my dad to help me write the speech since I just did not understand how a person could be a Democrat. As far as I knew then, a Democrat = someone that wants babies to die. I ended up being proud of myself that I was able to deliver a pretty decent speech even though I could never be a Democrat. I was relieved when I learned George Bush won in the REAL election too.

1992: I lived in Kansas and was once again surrounded by Republicans. At that point I did have more of an understanding of what the parties actually represented, but I was still pretty in favor of George Bush, Sr. Based on the nightly news I was pretty sure we rocked that Iraq war in 91, so . . . I remember watching Saturday Night Live that year and when they covered the primaries they called it something like "The race to avoid being the one that loses to Bush." The tide turned pretty quickly. I remember the very few "Democrat" kids in our high school that came in wearing Clinton shirts the morning after and I felt so humiliated and somehow wronged.

1996: The first time I voted and I had only been eligible for a few months! Sometime in between 1992 and 1996, I had become not really all that Republican, despite that everyone else in my family was. But I did very much believe in having a moral president who doesn't cheat on his wife. So I gritted my teeth and voted Bob DULL. Then when Clinton won, I realized I was not that disappointed. After all, he gave great SOTU speeches. Also, he felt my pain. AND He and Newt and the gang balanced the dang budget!!!

2000: This was my protest vote year. Looking back I don't really like Ralph Nader that much. He comes across as kind of a jerk, to be honest. But, I was just starting graduate school, and I was disillusioned by all the stuff I had been fed through my schooling career and had become pretty jaded. All the glorious ideals of democracy and really it's all about money. I didn't want to support either major party since I felt they catered to whoever paid them. So I went Green party. I was quite sure that my state was already won by the guy I liked the least, so I went to try and get the 5% of the vote required for matching funds for the party. I still like the idea of the Greens, but I think we're stuck in this two-party system for now. Maybe doing away with the electoral college would break the fever, but I don't know. After the election happened I was absolutely glued to the TV watching the coverage of the hanging chads and such. And it was then that I realized I much preferred Gore and my vote would have been a serious waste in a battleground state. Later when all the Gore supporters were super angry with the Green party voters, I did feel a little remorse but thanks to the electoral college my vote didn't actually count so . . . okay mostly I just kept my mouth shut. You guys aren't still mad are you?

2004: This is the most gung-ho of all my years as a voter for the presidency. Not that I loved John Kerry that much, but I felt like George W. Bush was tanking the country. It felt like we used to stand for something and people used to like us, but now it was all about wasting loads of money on unnecessary war. Anyway, I don't want this retelling to get that political, just be more experiential. The day after the election I had a job interview. I don't remember what for but it was in Georgetown and I think at a non-profit of some kind. I parked my car and stumbled out as though I were walking in a fog. A thick malaise covered that interview and neither of our hearts were in it. I left knowing I did not land that one, and not really caring. I felt this knot in my stomach all day and when I heard the concession speech as I was driving around (aimlessly?) I just bawled in my car. I remember feeling so much better when I found this website where people that had voted for Kerry were sending the message "I'm Sorry. We tried," to the world.

2005: Just had to note that this was the first time I remember someone I voted for winning. It was Tim Kaine for governor of Virginia. I still like that guy.

2008: I really didn't want Obama to run. I felt like it was too soon in his career. But I did quite like the guy, or rather his speechwriters. They rock. Anyway, though I had suspected it before, I have to admit that I was an unaffiliated Democrat at this point. I remember waiting at the poll before work, just chatting with all the people in my neighborhood. I was newly married but no kids, and I really enjoyed the excitement in the air and the comraderie I felt with my community. That night we were glued to the TV (for pretty much the first time since 2000 for me) and I was really excited, happy, and proud of my country once the results came in. Finally everyone gets that "there is not a liberal America and a conservative America -- there is the United States of America." Or so I thought.

2012: Okay I will get a little political. The last four years have been disappointing. I am suspicious of some of the President's decisions, but I am especially disillusioned by his failure to reach across the aisle. But, after weighing everything a million times, I just agree with his ideas more. And I hope [[[HOPE]]]] that he has much more to do and now will go do it. Tuesday I went to the polls with my two little kids and that will be the image that sticks with me this time. Filling in those dang holes on the sheet of paper while simultaneously bouncing the infant to stop him from crying and keeping one hand on the almost-three-year-old to stop her from playing hide-and-seek in the voting booths (and oh yes that's exactly what she wanted to do).

I just re-listened to then Senate-hopeful Barack Obama's speech in 2004. I think some of the hopefulness has been derailed by the economic recession, but I don't maybe there's still something to it. Maybe?

If there is a child on the south side of Chicago who can’t read, that matters to me, even if it’s not my child. If there is a senior citizen somewhere who can’t pay for their prescription drugs, and having to choose between medicine and the rent, that makes my life poorer, even if it’s not my grandparent. If there’s an Arab American family being rounded up without benefit of an attorney or due process, that threatens my civil liberties.

It is that fundamental belief -- It is that fundamental belief: I am my brother’s keeper. I am my sister’s keeper that makes this country work. It’s what allows us to pursue our individual dreams and yet still come together as one American family.

E pluribus unum: "Out of many, one."

Guacamole Jokes a la Laffy Taffy

We came up with these for about ten minutes straight today. I thought I'd share a few with the world (read: the three people that read my blog)

What do you call avocado dip that athletes eat in the locker room?

What do you call petrified avocado dip?

What do you call avocado dip you can conveniently eat on-the-trail?

What do you call electrified avocado dip?

What do you call avocado dip currently serving as the POTUS?

What do you call avocado dip that's a big hit among the Vulcans?

What do you call avocado dip molded into the form of a deceased gangsta rapper?

What do you call avocado dip that makes fun of you?

What do you call avocado dip that follows you home?

Avocado dip that you seal in an air-tight plastic bag?

Avocado dip stinking of stale sweaty foot fungus that has lingered in your high school PE class for six months?

A handgun made of avocado dip?

Avocado dip made with green vegetable florets?

Avocado dip eaten by migratory birds?

Avocado dip that keeps time?

Avocado dip you can trade in a volatile market?

Feel free to add your own. I think we could get to a hundred of these for Willy Wonka.

Six months (and some change)

Baby Bro is the cuddliest kid ever. I love it. I've been dropping Big Sis off at preschool and then breathing in his sweetness and getting some serious cuddle time in. Big Sis was never too cuddly until she was older (maybe 18 months). Here he is looking adorable:

After Daddy gave him a loud buzzy kiss (note LCD's new faux hawk).

Oh. His stats are pretty awesome. 97% head circumference. 5% for both height and weight. You can appreciate the gargantuan size of his head more when he looks down like this. 

 I think he looks a lot like a certain uncle in that photo.

And here he is looking more proportional.

 So yeah, it's not like he's a freak or anything. Dude's just got a big noggin.

And, for fun, here's Big Sis counting out all the pom poms she earned by making "good choices."

She got to trade them in for a toy.

So I keep almost blogging about things: deeper stuff, actually, that I ponder in my half-wake state at Midnight or 2 or 5. But then I'm at a loss for how to properly express my ruminations. So maybe this will just be a sketch and later I'll fill it in. Or I won't.

Mortality is the main topic.

This year a lot of our relatives are battling their bodies. Both of my grandmothers got cancer and as I mentioned in the last post, one has passed. (Side-note: I am so glad we made the decision to go visit her and introduce her to the kids in early June. This is the stuff that matters.) LCD's dad has been dealing with a pretty serious autoimmune disorder for the last year and a half and his grandfather is back in the hospital today for numerous conditions after just getting out a couple weeks ago. And I'm beginning to realize this is going to continue. It is the normal way of life for things to start breaking down. For most of my youth I was surrounded by healthy thriving things and people and now I'm thinking about the "no duh" fact that I'm not so young anymore. On the happy side of things, more babies are coming to the family. And I'm getting to watch my children grow and become more and more awesome.

Big sis starts preschool next week. And the baby is almost to the HALF YEAR mark.

Oh life. It's bigger. Bigger than you.

Maw Maw

In Memoriam

Practicing their deadpan faces

This is a little old (from the Father's Day shoot), but I like it.

Lost my phone rant

Am I the only person left on the planet that doesn't want a smartphone? Okay, I get they are nifty and handy to have at times, but frankly LCD already has one and I already have two computers and am pretty much stuck at home a lot of the time (hello naptime) so we certainly don't need to be paying for one more monthly data plan.

Anyway, I lost my phone, which was a pretty good phone and had the added bonus of taking decent pictures. Plus you could not only open and close it, but totally swivel the top part and turn it around to make into an insta-camera. Not a great camera or anything but good for on-the-go moments where I wasn't ready with a real camera. It's what they used to call a "feature phone," which apparently doesn't exist anymore. Also it was virtually indestructible without looking ridiculous. And, finally, it was free.

So I lost it last week (on my dang birthday by the way) and at first I wasn't too worried because it's been a couple years so I was due an upgrade and I figured they probably have something even niftier now.

They don't.

Everything they have now has a less-impressive camera, is clunkier-looking, and is NOT free. Oh unless I want a smartphone, which they are giving away. For your firstborn. She can be a pain, but mostly I like her, so no.

I know, I may as well get some dentures, because I am living in a previous decade.

(Oh, my brother told me about Virgin Mobile plans for the smartphone-averse. Would have been a great idea if I hadn't recently locked myself in my contract for another year for some bonus minutes. Dang Verizon!)

80's theme song for #2

For some reason I have started calling the baby "Mister Mister" a lot. It's not clever but it does make me dredge up this song from the 80's into my brain, and if you listen you will find that that can not be a bad thing:






I also learned that this group sings "Take These Broken Wings" which is also pretty good, but doesn't have the stadium rock uumph that you really need for rocking out with your baby.

Colorado, we love you a little

You probably know that I went to graduate school in Colorado and am definitely a fan. However, LCD says he is neutral toward Colorado. He said something like "Take away the mountains and there's not much there." To which I said something like "No duh. But why would you take away the mountains?" Mostly I think he doesn't like dogs that much or dog-loving culture. There is a lot of love for dogs in that state. And we went to a lame area of Denver to go somewhere obnoxious and kid-friendly so he figured the whole place must be lame. Overgeneralize much?

That said, he quite liked our vacation there. Whatever, I don't have to understand everything about him. Here's some pictures:

Hiking with the wee one

A got some good Grandpa time

"5-4-3-2-1 . . . Gondola!" was our family chant each time we left a gondola station.

We went on an old-timey train.

No, we don't have triplets. LCD just likes to mess with photos and make them eerie/fun.

The cabin was pretty superb.

After tantruming for a while A walked a LOT of this hike to a glacier. It was pretty rocky and tough.

This guy was there, too.

The eldest cousin found the geocache near our cabin.

This machine is somehow involved with mining.

So we hiked, we toured, we rode things, we ate, we hot-tubbed, we played a couple games, we took naps, we tantrumed, and we swam. It was a great trip and we voted to keep having these little family reunions every year. Oh, A slept in a room with bunkbeds for all her cousins. It. Was. Insane. Hmm, I think I might add some more pics later. Uncle Dk should have a photo of the whole group that I can steal.

Life is the coolest

I felt awesome today. Why?

Positive Mental Attitude.

Hormones normalizing, maybe?

Baby's in his fourth month!

Our power was back on after two days of wilting like the privileged modern first-worlder I am. In the words of my oldest, it was "soooo bootiful." Who knew I had such a thing for electricity? I do. Oh yes, I swoon for you. Just being able to open the dang blinds instead of keeping everything shut to maintain the cave of slightly-less-unbearableness is so awesome.

I finally told off super-annoying-won't-give-up used car salesperson when she called this morning "to see how our search is going." I was not particularly cheeky or particularly flustered. I think I said, "You know what? Every time I talk to you, you are very antagonistic toward me. I am not enjoying this experience and I don't plan on continuing our relationship. Also, my baby is crying. Good luck and good-bye." For some reason this made me feel very pleasant. Fist pump!

I sang to the baby all day. Every time I did he smiled like the oldest smiles when you say the word "cake."

Anyway, I have to take a pic of the little one in his bumbo chair while the two-year-old plays with him. Weird how it makes so much difference, but I think she really SEES him in that thing. After a sweet beginning, there has been a LOT of jealousy in the last few months. I think she is finally starting to come around and see him less as a mom-monopolizer and more as a potential friend and ally. The coolest, I tell you.

3 months

It's all worth it. Again.




I mean, really.

Reality Bites

By which I mean my two-year-old bites her little brother. And then he screams.

Okay so it's not like it happens every day, but I think it would if I gave her the opportunity. I think the key to avoiding a lot of sibling abuse right now is planning a buttload of stuff to do. In an unfortunate side-issue, kid #2 wakes at the crack of dawn (plus the three or four other times) if there is any light in the room. So far our black out curtains suck and also it's the end of May so the crack of dawn is truly early these days. Phew. So I'm alive and I'm grateful and what's more my family is really cute and they will charm the pants right off you when they are not wearing you down. Blessed Friday, I love you.

Here is a cute picture:

Big Sis

So she loves her baby brother and is so proud. She lays down next to him on his little play mat/baby gym and says "Don't be sad; I love you," when he's crying.

She also has thrown a few projectiles at him. And she begs for mommy-attention all day long so that sometimes I think I have two newborns (nothing like actual twins, I'm sure).

I really do love being a mom (or to put it more accurately I love my kids), but there's still a feeling of suffocation at times. Overall it is the most meaningful thing I have ever done.

I don't want to forget big sister's prayers lately: "Please bless Papa D he will feel better. Thank you for the food (whether or not we are about to eat). Please bless Daddy he will come home safe (whether or not he is present). Bless Big Sister she will grow healthy and not a baby any more. Bless Baby Brother he will grow big and strong. Bless Mommy she will didn't get owies. Bless the people I forgot . . ."

B.A.

So I don't think I have post-partum depression this time. So far anyway.

Or if I do, it's a totally different sub-type. Instead of feeling detached, listless, and hopeless, I just have a bad attitude. Eighteen million times a day I find myself saying "seriously?" and rolling my eyes like a thirteen-year-old. The baby wants to eat again even though the last feeding just ended fifteen minutes ago? My netbook suddenly just won't turn on? The SD card from Amazon that I just opened is actually the one I canceled and confirmed as such? Someone "in a hurry" at Target just cut in front of the lady wearing sweats and buying newborn diapers at 10 pm (me)? Every time I sit down to do our taxes, somebody's gotta start crying?

It appears to be contagious, only LCD's gripes are mainly about the house he is determined to fix before his hiatus is up. Our three-year-old HVAC is majorly broken, there's some random leak in the basement bathroom (yes THAT basement from which we recently painstakingly removed all the mold ), and I just found signs of termites in the shed? Seriously?

Don't take it personally if we snap at you in the next little while. The truth is, we are just a couple of jerks over here. Sleep-deprived jerks. So just back off!

P.s., I think just maybe I am going to attempt to take both kids to play group by myself tomorrow. My bad attitude says that's got "huge embarrassing failure" written all over it, but maybe I can try some positive thinking.

Birth Story in Total

I don’t think I ever fully recorded Little A’s birth story, partially because of the murky, dark awfulness that enveloped me right after her birth. Breastfeeding nightmares, post-partum depression, colic/reflux. When I look back, I realize none of these things are so awful as a truly sick child, but at the time I felt I was swimming in a black sea, no life vest or raft and no hope of rescue. I think the depression was influenced by my birth experience, the punchline of which is that my little daughter quite literally ripped me a new one: a fourth-degree tear that meant it hurt to sit, walk, and move in any way for two months and also possible future incontinence issues for life. But whatever. The fact remains that I met the only essential goal I set, which was to avoid a c-section*, AND I met one of the most interesting, unique, radiant people I have ever known: my daughter. Overall it was a win, but the experience has haunted me since.

This time I wanted to avoid several things if possible: an induction, an episiotomy, an epidural (possibly), but mostly my goal was to just not have another fourth degree tear. So again I had one essential goal. And, this time I would take a c-section over a re-4th degree (though I decided I would try for a vaginal birth again). When my one OB that I am less fond of started sending me in for growth scans of the baby and saying ominous things about how we should be “getting that baby out soon,” I was a little worried. And I was pretty sure she was overreacting to the fact that LCD and I make small babies with big heads. I was also quite sure he was not coming before his due date naturally, so I hadn’t really finished preparing. I had planned to take Little A on a “tour de playgrounds” during my 40th week as a final farewell to being an only child.<--- This is the thing that gets me choked up, by the way. By far the hardest thing since the baby has been born is missing all the mommy-daughter time. So anyway . . .

Tuesday the 13th (38 weeks 6 days) we go to the hospital for yet another growth scan to rule out IUGR. LCD was able to get off work to go with me and watch Little A. It shows the same thing as always: big head little body. But, the overall weight is over 6 pounds and he is so responsive and kicky I just wait for them to send me home. Next thing I know they are sending me in the other room for a non-stress test and mostly I’m thinking about how they are dragging it out and Little A is missing her nap again and is going to get increasingly cranky. Everyone keeps saying the baby is doing great and his heart rate is perfect and I keep waiting for the time to be up when suddenly there are two doctors there telling us that we should probably induce that night. Apparently he was great except for a few suspect decelerations and this is enough to change the recommendation from “go home” to “let’s induce now.” I felt a little bullied, but how was I going to say no when there was a chance that this really did mean baby boy was not doing so great in there anymore? To shorten this tale, they sent me up to L&D to be monitored and consult with my OB that was on call (the one I like!) and she decided not to go against what the others had said but she admitted that it was most likely nothing and she let me go home so I could at least pack and come back the next morning when she would be on call again (yay!). Intermittent crying and “I’m not ready” was sprinkled through all of this as I realized that “tour de playgrounds” was not to be.

On Wednesday the 14th we arrive at the hospital at 6:15 am. I was a blubbering mess on the way there, practically flooded the car with my emotions as I could not stop thinking about how Little A was going to wake up and I would not be there--for the first time in her life. After re-doing all the registration stuff and waiting while someone actually in labor got a room (I felt a little lame) we start getting settled in our large delivery room. I guess I am a little dehydrated thanks to four hours of monitoring the previous day because it is pretty difficult to find my veins and the nurses keep taking turns. It takes three of them. In the meantime I get really woozy and start seeing spots. So yes, I nearly pass out before anything even starts. Awesome.

After I turn over onto my side and drink some of that super sugar juice they have I am ready to go. They manage to find a vein in my wrist, load me up on antibiotics (b/c I am group b strep pos) and fluids, and finally get the pitocin started around 9:00 am. I decline an epidural. My research indicated (yeah I read a dozen or so articles on how not to have a repeat fourth degree tear) that there MAY be a link between epidurals and interventions and thus--tangentially--major tears. Though, to be fair, it's a couple steps removed so the link is not that strong. And I sort of I just want to know what pitocin contractions without an epidural feel like. At least for a while.

For the first hour or two I just chill watching Spanish language TV while LCD updates his email list. Contractions come and go but are weak. I also have to get up to use the bathroom a lot, which is quite a production with my IV and monitors. I have to send a notarized request to the administration of the hospital who then contacts the President of the United States to give the okay each time. Also my nurse seems annoyed at first. But, we warm up to each other.

Contractions are starting to get a wee bit more painful when my OB that I like comes in to chat about "getting the birthday party started" by breaking my water. The only problem with that is contractions are going to start sucking and I might want an epidural for them. Or I can just continue to do the twiddling thumbs thing for a while as the pitocin is slowly bumped up. The pain would be easier to manage that way, but it might be a while. I tell my OB that my hesitation on the epidural is that I wanted to minimize the long term damage as my primary goal, and not sacrifice that for temporary comfort. She tells me that she can do more to position and guide the baby and we can do some slower pushing during crowning WITH the epidural, but of course it's totally up to me.

I like that doctor. She has an "everything is gonna be totally fine" sort of attitude that puts you at ease. I have to admit that part of my motivation is boredom, or to be kinder to myself, I do not want to spend more time away from big sister than I need to. So I say fine. Let's break my water right now and start getting the epidural lined up. That way I can feel what pitocin + water broken contractions feel like for a little while and then get some relief.

So things get wet pretty quickly and I have LCD start up the music to help get me through the next hour or so until the anesthesiologist gets there. In a few minutes contractions are definitely getting painful. A 5 or so. Then another one that acts like it's going away then comes back as a 6. I'd say they get up to maybe a 7 on my pain scale and are every two minutes or so by the time the drugs arrive. I start squeezing LCD's hand commensurate with the pressure I feel from contractions. At one point, a dark Jeff Buckley song comes on and I tell LCD to skip it. So he goes to mess with his iPhone for a while and I have a contraction or two without him and they are much harder with no hand to squeeze. And I think that's when "First Day of My Life" comes on and I bawl through it. I feel like I needed that little wake up to get my mind in the game and realize this is all about our brand new little boy. Not any of my issues. And not even big sister. We are about to meet the newest member of our family and he is about to meet the world.

The epidural comes and it is magic. It works within five minutes. Last time it never "took" all the way and had to be increased a couple times to do anything, so I wasn't expecting much. This time I went from a 7 to a 0 pain-wise in minutes. I am now officially sold. I take a nap for a bit, then wake up to the OB back again, checking my dilation (6, I think, if you care) and noticing a couple baby heartbeat decels. She suggests something I had never heard of before where they actually pump some fluid back into the uterus to try and calm the baby's distress. Truth be told, it sounds kind of dumb to break my water and then say "oopsie--let's put it back," but seriously this OB's style is so chill it's like she's asking if I want a candy bar. A Twix would be great, thanks. So I say, do it. Put the water hose thingy up my vagina and next to that baby's head. He will love it.

In 15-20 minutes, I am feeling a bit of pressure, like the epidural is starting to wear off. They ask if I wanted to increase the dose, but I decide to wait a few more contractions since the pressure is pretty low and this could mean we are almost done. Sure enough, I start to get that special time-to-visit-the-bathroom feeling. I tell my nurse and she checks my dilation and smiles and says she will go get my OB. So that means I did good, right?

I push and realize I'm not really afraid like last time. It's still hard but it changes everything to know that it's working. After only twenty or so minutes his little head is poking out a bit and my OB tells me I can reach down and touch it. I surprise myself by having the strength to reach down and feel the little ball of hair that is my babe's head and he instantly retreats like a turtle and everyone cracks up. We slow down the pushes while he comes out and suddenly there he is and they give him to me and I see him, shocked that it was about ten times easier than last time and I am not so worn out that I can't hold him. I can! And after they clean him I can even nurse right away and don't feel like death. Hallelujah for the second time around.

The final verdict is a healthy baby with no growth issues and a second degree tear. I'll take it.





*I know plenty of people that have had good experiences with c-sections and that it doesn’t tarnish anything about the experience, but I had a valid health-related reason for wanting to give birth vaginally.

Into the dangerous world

So there I was, confined to a hospital bed, in unholy (read: pitocin-induced) labor, listening to LCD's "Antony and the Johnsons" Pandora station while breathing through contractions. And then Bright Eyes' "First Day of My Life" starts playing. And of course, I utterly lose it. Even though it's not really about childbirth and babies, it may as well be.

This is the first day of my life
I swear I was born right in the doorway
I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed
They're spreading blankets on the beach

Yours is the first face that I saw
I think I was blind before I met you
Now I don’t know where I am
I don’t know where I’ve been
But I know where I want to go

And so I thought I’d let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night
Just to meet me in the morning
And I thought it was strange you said everything changed
You felt as if you'd just woke up
And you said “this is the first day of my life
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you
But now I don’t care I could go anywhere with you
And I’d probably be happy”

So if you want to be with me
With these things there’s no telling
We just have to wait and see
But I’d rather be working for a paycheck
Than waiting to win the lottery
Besides maybe this time is different
I mean I really think you like me

Welcome to the world, Mr. Colin, my Pi Day baby.

Meal Planning, I am doing it

I seriously can't handle it anymore and know it's going to be infinitely harder with two kidlets, so I'm really making it happen. Today we are eating Domino's for dinner, but I started making a list of stuff I know how to make, especially the ones I make frequently and that are somewhat easy when I am the only adult in the house. If my random three readers have any low-stress but still somewhat interesting and tasty recipes to share I would love it. Here's most of my ideas so far, Believe it or not the seafood stuff is the most likely to be eaten by the two-year-old.

My go-to meals
Linguini with clam sauce
Dijon/BK Breaded Fish
Stroganoff
Soup: chicken or beef with noodles, sweet potatoes, spinach, onions, carrots, etc.
Baked chicken
Sausage and spinach pasta
Baked salmon, rice, veggie

Sometimes meals
Spaghetti w/ meatballs
King Ranch Chicken
Tacos and Mexican Rice
Omelets

Holy crap we finished the basement (and other happenings)

Remember how I posted about our latest home project and I kind of made it sound all wrapped up? Yeah, that was just the mold removal phase. Now finally as of yesterday morning, all drywall is up; wiring re-done where necessary; walls painted; baseboards also painted, assembled, and attached; and stuff reorganized enough to actually use the main room as a functional place to hang out/play music/play toys.

Also, some severely nice people threw me a baby shower and baby #2 now has clothes! And we also got to see some old friends this weekend that I go back 10+ years with. And then we actually had time to "relax" while watching a movie last night. By relax I mean half-heartedly watch the movie while I sorted all of baby brother's clothes and LCD halfway built a shoe rack. Luckily it was a slow-going thoughtful movie so we didn't have to pay that much attention to get the gist.

Next on my checklist is to pack for the hospital and tidy up the house for visitors. I am kind-of-sort-of-almost ready to have this kid.

Second Time Around

4 weeks to go (okay 3 1/2) and I am of about thirty minds.

I'm pretty tired and uncomfortable (nothing surprisingly so--I have to admit I have pretty average pregnancies, maybe even on the easy side), and think about the future wherein most of my clothes more or less fit.

I also want to enjoy every last minute with my precious oldest child. I don't know that I can give words to how awesome she is and how lucky I am to have her. And what a great Daddy she has, by the way.



I'm scared, a little. Less than I thought I would be, but it's still there. Taking my fish oil like a champ to ward off depression. Doing my preggo workout to ward off repeat tears from hell. All the while the serenity prayer plays in the background.

I'm unprepared. So far the child owns two shirts (only one will fit him right away). No bags packed, no carseat loaded, no bassinet set up, no clue on his name. We still have time.

At least I am 99.9% convinced we still have plenty of time. Not expecting this kid before spring arrives officially. I could be wrong, but I don't think so. Yes I am setting myself up for karma to kick my butt.

I feel ready. Which is kind of odd, since I'm not. But I think I can love this baby. I think I can be mom in a family of four. I think I can handle whatever he throws my way, because I will have my sweet sunshiney two-year-old with me to remind me that nothing lasts long. Well nothing except that welded-forever feeling.

Yet, I am clueless about the logistics of it all. I feel like I can picture us hanging around the house, but I can't quite picture how I will get two kids in the car without losing one (uh the two-year-old).

I'm excited to have LCD home with me for six weeks! What. The. Awesome.

I'm excited to "go into" labor. No forcing or cajoling. No drugs, no fears beyond the normal stuff. I hope I get to experience that.

I know I might not experience that. And I'm okay with it. I think.

I do have this suspicion that having two of them might make me seem or feel more legitimate as a parent. Not that I'm pretending now or anything. But just that I only know how to do it one way. Soon I'll be able to compare with a sample group of two instead of one.

I'm a little worried that none of the things that worked for Little A will work for this one. But it also makes me oddly hopeful, since almost nothing worked for Little A as a newborn. I mean, what are the odds of having two in a row like that?

Diaper changes might be a little different this time.

I just don't see how "sleep when the baby sleeps" has any hope of working this time. "Sleep when the baby sleeps while simultaneously the toddler deigns to actually stay down for a nap?" Again, can I say how excited I am to have LCD home with me for six weeks?

I'm so happy it's almost spring. And it's staying light out til 6:00!

Well, that's fifteen, which is probably already three times as much as anyone wanted to read, so I think I'll call it good.

Random kid stuff

I'm 90% sure we're signing up Little A for preschool next year. We went to visit a couple recently and she was in LOVE with the idea of preschool after that. She would be in a 2 1/2 yr old class, which is kind of pre-preschool (meaning not much curriculum). I felt conflicted about it for a while since I first had the idea as a way to SAVE money since the hourly rate for preschool is less than that of a babysitter and I do have to get her babysat a couple times during the week when I am working. But my work is so very unpredictable that there are bound to be times she is going to preschool while I am bringing in approximately squat $. But I think we have finally settled on it being worth it anyway, partially because Little A loves other kids but has very little concept of how to interact with the ones that are actually her age and that don't see everything she does as automatically "cute." And because of a little something I like to call discipline fatigue.

Also, I realized today that I am six weeks away from my official due date (which I think is off by a few days, but whatever I'm in the ballpark) for baby brother. To my surprise, even though we technically aren't ready (no diapers, no clothes, house in shambles, etc.), I kind of feel ready for this. I am not scared out of my mind like I thought I would be. I know it's a whole new ballgame with two, but I feel like I waded through a lot of crap to get to where I can feel confident that I am not a horrible parent. Sure my kids will bear some scars from my mistakes, but I think they will be okay. And sure I will be a wrecked, tired, bumbling fool for at least the first six weeks (if not six months), but I've done this before. This is probably just my mood of the moment, but I think I will let it be for a while.

I just ordered LCD a couple CDs for his birthday. Is that even a legitimate thing to do anymore?

The Instigator

Definitely still his best album.

But, speaking of instigators, I'm starting to get a glimpse into Little A's future. A few days ago at playgroup, she goaded two other two-year-olds into playing in the mud with her. By the way, we were not dressed for it. I thought playgroup would be inside since it rained that morning, but it got moved. Since I know my child, I thought things might get messy, but I did not want to deprive her of the chance to play and interact with others. And so, after repeatedly trying to get her to stay out of puddles, I relented when she was on the other side of the playground from me and I was sitting comfortably. She kept telling the other two (both boys, I might add) "Come on!" At first they hesitated, but eventually they were all jumping and covered in muddy water. Oh well, the joys of childhood, right?

One of the other moms commented, "I can just see Little A being the ringleader of her friends when she's older."

"Oh no," I suddenly had a thought. "I hope she doesn't convince them to do anything illegal." Bad Influence!

Baby Ninja

Baby brother gave us a scare today. At my appointment this morning, I was measuring six weeks behind! Six flippin' weeks! For the uninitiated, that "measurement" is based on fundal height, aka how tall is ye olde uterus these days by tape measure? So they sent me in for an ultrasound almost right away and in the meantime I had two hours to google every thing that might be wrong (fun). Turns out he's just a little hiding ninja and is measuring totally normal via ultrasound. From now on when people tell me "you're so small!" I will say one of four things:

-Yes, he's adept at blending in to his surroundings, like a ninja. Or Rambo.
-I know, how efficient is my awesome body, right?
-It's probably my rock solid abs.
-Shove it.

Latest Home Improvement Project: Mold Removal

I know you're already excited based on the title. I could probably write a thrilling blog called Life in a 1970's Townhouse and this would be one of the star posts, if there could be such a thing on such a blog in such a universe as this one.

Anyway, it's taken up a lot of our life lately, so . . . ready or not, here it is, you can't hide. The top five things I learned from our recent dismantling, cleaning, and remantling of half of the basement.

1. Based on LCD's hands, working with waterproofing cement on a cinderblock surface can lead to leprosy.

2. Studs, at least the ones in the walls of our basement, are much less formidable than I previously imagined. They are just a thin strip of metal and they are only bolted into place at the top so once we had all the dry wall and wall insulation down they just kind of hung there and moved around quite easily.

3. If you're hacking away at a piece of drywall and the nearby lights suddenly get a lot brighter and flicker, it does not necessarily mean you are electrocuted or that you just hit a wire. In fact, we're still not totally sure what that meant.

4. Masks of any kind covering my mouth and nose still really, really bug me. I'm a total claustrophobe about it. I still wore one anyway to protect the 7 month old fetus from spores, but if we ever have a serious disease epidemic where everyone walks around with masks on, I may be the one that hyperventilates to death. Here's hoping I don't need an oxygen mask when I deliver baby #2.

5. This has nothing to do with home improvement, but I don't think it needs it's own post, so I'm hiding it here. It's a question, actually, and the question is Why won't Zooey Deschanel leave me alone? She's all indie-pop Christmas albuming, then she's all over the dang Winnie the Pooh soundtrack that I get to hear all the time. And, okay, I can handle those things, and she's not actually bad at them. And just like everyone who's ever been single and in a dead-end relationship, I liked 500 Days of Summer. But why oh why does her terrible new sitcom have to show up on hulu after I watch a show that's somewhat entertaining, and why can't I stop from watching that awfulness? I'm thinking of giving in and becoming a Zooey superfan just like I did with Shia LeBouf a few years ago. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

*Half of this post was composed with a two-year-old jumping on me, so just keep that in mind.
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Beginner Sewing

I got a sewing machine for Christmas. The last time I sewed anything was 8th grade and it was not pretty. I'm hoping to make a baby sling for the new baby since I think it will be quicker to use than any of the other baby-wearing options I have already and, well, Little A IS a bit insane so I'm pretty sure I will still need to bolt after her on occasion. They are supposed to be really easy to make but I still doubt myself. I've read a lot and just ordered some fabric and a ring to put the fabric through. Other than that I want to learn how to hem pants. Pretty basic, I know, but you should have seen the stuffed elephant I tried to make at age 13. Anyway, I'm telling the three people that read my blog so I'll feel responsible or something.

Resolved

. . . that the U.S. should reduce worldwide pollution through something, something blah blah blah." That's the best I can remember our theme when I was on debate team in high school a million years ago. It just came back to my mind. Yeah, I was a little nerdy. But I kind of wish I had fully embraced the nerdiness instead of being so unsure of who I was, but I guess that's what being a teenager is about.

Anecdote aside, this post is really about my resolutions this year. I like new beginnings and resolutions and despite that it is cooler to be cynical, I am not particularly cynical about them--nerdiness shining through, I guess.

So internets this year, I want to:

1) Be a more "zen" mom -- I don't mean discipline-free by any means, just no shouting, less getting exasperated, more accepting of myself and the crazy ball of energy that is my wonderful kid (and the fact that we aren't the same as some other mom/child).

2) Focus more on my spirituality.

3) Have a better birth and post-partum experience with #2 (since there's only so much I can do, I should probably just say "handle it better whatever happens," but I'm hopeful for more than that).

Okay, I think that's enough. Only three things, but they are all a really big deal to me, so I think it's plenty.

Happy 2012 to everyone.