The Center of the Universe

Friday Photos

2012-01-27T21:03:00.000-08:00

One of the nice things about a little sibling is that you can dress them up...

At the park - John's first time feeling (read: tasting) the sand

(on a side note - Lucy calls every sunny day Sunday and

wants to wear her Sunday days of the week underpants)

This is Le Tigre. It's a softer look. Like for catalogues and whatnot.

Lu and her sidekick Snow Leopard - she hardly goes anywhere without him.

Off the Charts

2012-01-24T15:52:00.000-08:00

Johnny had his 9 month check up today at 9 months 12 days. He has a raging case of eczema that looked so terrible under the harsh clinical lighting that I felt like a horrible mother for not having treated it too aggressively yet. Evidently slapping some diaper cream on it at night didn't heal it. Go figure.

And. He's fallen another rung on the growth charts. He's now in the 5th percentile for weight. It's gotten consistently lower with each well baby visit. This time, his length dropped too. He's now in the 50-75th percentile for height. Sigh. I wish this didn't worry me as much as it does. Our ped is awesome and she says "Look at your husband! He's so skinny!" So there's that. And yeah, it's not like the kid doesn't EAT. He could nurse and eat food All. Day. Long. But the fact is that he's not sticking to a trajectory on the growth charts, and instead he's in a lower bracket each time we go in there. So my nine month old weighs 16 pounds 4 ounces, which means that he's gained one little pound in three and a half months. Oh, did I mention I nursed him and fed him a big lunch right before going? Frustrating.

I immediately think the problem is me, you know? Is my milk supply not up to par? Maybe he's not getting all the hind milk? Maybe I should go in a quiet room to nurse during the day so he's less distracted and will actually eat? Is he acting like he's still hungry after he nurses and I'm not noticing? Maybe I should be feeding him formula??

I asked if feeding him bottles would help. Because really, it would be fine with me to cut out a couple of nursing sessions if it meant this kid could gain some weight and put my mind at ease. The Doc suggested instead of cutting out breast feeding, maybe giving him formula in a cup at mealtimes instead of water just to get some extra calories in him. A very diplomatic answer. She also said she admired that I would be willing to do that because sometimes "bottle" is a bad word 'round these parts. Whatever. I just want my kid to be healthy and grow. She also suggested coming in for a couple of weight checks between now and April since it's three months away, just to see that he's gaining. If he falls below the 5th percentile, we'll have to talk about other measures.

Which basically means: don't worry until we need to worry. And yet. I worry.

Friday Photos

2012-01-20T20:17:00.000-08:00

This little gem didn't make the Christmas card this year, but is totally worth posting here.

My little beauty decided that she doesn't want me to ever cut her hair ever again so that she can have hair like Rapunzel. SHE'S TOO YOUNG TO HAVE AN OPINION! I liked her bangs and bob. Ah well. So we start the growing of the bangs. SIGH.

Loving the swings at the park!

The Bubba's 33rd birthday!

And!

Snow days!!

Our tiny starter snowman. Before the real snow fell.

Two babies for a sled walk around the neighborhood.

Handsome in pink?
That's what happens when it only snows once a year and you've got a big sis!

Lucy and a neighbor friend trying to make a snowman with powder.

It didn't work, but at least it tired them out!

And now you're mostly caught up.

Nine

2012-01-12T15:38:00.000-08:00

Nine months old, my friends.

John is climbing on EVERYTHING. I don't remember Lucy ever being so bold. I mean, he'll climb on top of things and get stuck up there because there's no way to safely get down, except he won't really get stuck because he'll just fling himself off thinking that he can just DO that. This kid has had more head bonks already than lucy had in her first 18 months. After hearing a knocking bonk on the hardwood floors, the Bubba and I always look at each other and say things like "That *can't* be good," but then again, he never acts like it really hurts, the little Bruiser.

Along with the climbing came the cruising!

Cruising along the couch, pulling off all the cushions. As you do.

Cruising! For real! He already thinks that he can just let go of the couch and walk across the room to the desk. And then more bonking ensues. All I do every day is follow him around trying to prevent concussive episodes and/or brain damage.

Taking the stroller for a spin

John got two bottom teeth for Christmas! Finally! He's enjoying gorging himself on the little scrapings of anything and everything. The drool just drips out and with his high-speed scooting, he always has a shirtfront full of gross.

The baby's mostly sleeping through the night again, which is a very good thing. Except that Lucy's been struggling with night wakings lately. So if it's not John it's Lucy which inevitably wakes John and then everyone's miserable. But Lucy will do things like come into our bedroom and say "I think I'd like some milk." Like it's the middle of the day and she just decided she needs a snack. That's not the worst, though, the worst is when Lucy wakes up crying from a bad dream and wakes John up and then Lucy needs comforting and John refuses to go back to bed without nursing. Someday my kids will both sleep through the night, RIGHT?

John doesn't have his 9 month well baby check up for a couple more weeks because I forgot that babies have 9 month well baby check ups. Ah, the plight of the second child. I didn't call until this week to get an appointment and of course everyone wakes up at the beginning of January and makes resolutions like "I will take my kid to the doctor when he needs it," so now I've got to wait two weeks to see what kind of weight gain this kid has had in the past couple of months. I mean, it's got to be entire ounces. This baby. He is Skinny. With capitals. I seem to remember having the same issues with Lucy, so at least my kids are consistently skinny, but I don't remember ever being worried about Lucy's weight. She was always around the 25th-50th percentile for weight, but John's just in the wittle-bitty 10th percentile. I wash each rib at bath time. Ok, it's not quite that bad, but I wouldn't mind having a chunky baby!

Not that John doesn't eat. I mean, last night he Hungry Caterpillar-ed his way through some O's cereal, a breakfast bar, an entire meatball, some crackers, two slices of pear, half a yogurt, and some more O's. And this was after 20 minutes of nursing to his fill. Kid's just got his daddy's metabolism because he never seems to get any wider - just taller.

John is just the HAPPIEST baby. He's so laid back and fun and always smiles and laughs and does silly things to crack us up. Lucy has as much fun with him as we do, I think. Now that he can crawl into bins that she can push up and down the hallway and empty toy boxes onto the floor, the kids' play together is much more fulfilling for both of them. Too bad my presence is almost always required for the Anti-Bonk Movement or I'd have loads of time to screw around! HA!

Eight

2011-12-14T14:18:00.000-08:00

John is so big. It's like he got the memo that he just turned eight months and just all of a sudden grew up so much.

He is:
-still army-scoot-crawling with punctuated instances of hands-and-knee rocking
-"clapping" (well, banging hands together) and getting so excited about Patty Cake that he can HARDLY CONTAIN ALL THE JOY OMG
- waving hello/goodbye
- sitting stably and smoothly going from sitting to army-crawling/scooting but not back.
- starting to pull up on things (!) onto his knees
- taking steps while we hold his hands
- ALWAYS moving. Always. Moving.
- finally feeding himself. He took his sweet time figuring out how to get the food on his highchair tray into his mouth, but now it's gangbusters.
- loving puff snacks and bits of bread and eggs and grilled cheese and, well, food. He's a fan.
- still teething. I mean, eternally, right? But I mean he still hasn't gotten his FIRST tooth yet.
- talking up a storm about some very important things. Like buuuuuhbah and boeuf and mmmmmafffffh. BOEUF. And he can have an entire conversation with different intonations of "Ah"

The kids are:
- having more and more fun together. Like playing "Two babies" in which Lucy gets down on the floor and does whatever John does. It's usually riddled with giggles. They play "chase" too, where Lucy takes off and thinks it's hilarious that John follows her wherever she goes.
- still doing a great job sharing a room.
- super sweet to each other always giving each other hugs and kisses.

The Bubba and I are:

- enjoying the laughter and the very sincere "conversations" from the Little Little AND the Big Little

- always scrambling to "save John for the day!" (Lucy's version of "save the day") with whatever he gets into.

- so overwhelmed by how ridiculously sweet our children are; we can hardly believe how blessed we are.

This Week Might Break Me

2011-11-23T08:15:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow's Thanksgiving. I have my latest load of sick laundry clean and unfolded on the coffee table, toys are everywhere, dishes are piled high in the kitchen.

It has been the kind of week that other parents don't tell you about when you first have kids. Or else they joke about it and make it seem trivial. We've been dealing with a Sickness around here.

It started Friday, but I was so certain that it was just a reaction from the flu shots the kids got on Thursday. And then the coughing started. And along with it the cough-barfing. My kids are BLACK BELTS in cough-barfing. You know, how you cough so hard that you accidently throw up? Yeah, that. And then the Night Coughing (and cough-barfing, pajama changing, sheet changing, etc.) prevents sleeping, and that makes everybody feel so much worse. So Sunday, I felt sick too, and you know that a household doesn't run when the Mama's not feeling well. But I was feeling human by Sunday night, so I figured that Lucy's cough was just the remnants of some bug she worked through over the weekend.

Tuesday Lucy had her preschool Thanksgiving performance. It was so cute! Except that my Star Performer refused to even move much less participate.

See her? In the white shirt and blue/purple jumper behind those other participating children? Wishing she were anywhere but there? Sad. I knew something was still up and that we should probably get things checked out before the holiday.

We spent the afternoon yesterday at the pediatrician's office and at the hospital getting chest x-rays for my poor girl. The doctor thought she sounded all lung-crunchy on one side so off to Swedish Ballard we went. The medical imaging place was the same place we went to get our last ultrasound the day before John was born. But back to the point: it's not pneumonia. We just have to suffer through.

It was the first time I've had to deal with all that doctor stuff on my own. I didn't want to bother the Bubba with it since he's already taking off Friday and Monday and his work is just insane. And it didn't seem like such a big deal that I needed to drive all over town trying to find someone to watch John. But that meant I was schlepping two kids all over Seattle dealing with the stress of medical stuff on my own. Which I didn't realize was a big deal until I got home and wanted to just sit and cry.

All this to say that I am less than prepared for Holiday-ing. My house looks like a rat's nest. I need at least three more days to get myself, my kids, and my house up to an acceptable level of presentation.

Luckily we decided to just do Thanksgiving with the four of us, super low key. So at least the pressure's off there and we can spend all day in our jammies eating cereal if we want to! (And after this weekend/the beginning of this week we might.)

Seven

2011-11-12T10:00:00.000-08:00

Seven months is so big!

John is crazy active these days. We call him our Speedy Centipede because it sure does seem like he has a hundred feet under him propelling him along at top speeds. He doesn't crawl with his belly off the floor, but he's gotten so good and fast at army crawling that he doesn't really need to experiment with other ways to get around. He just started sitting up. He never liked trying before because if he's SITTING he can't be MOVING so no, thank you. He's still not the stablest, but he's good until he dives onto his head trying to go straight from sitting to flying. He's not really a Sit Still kind of kid!

Well, that is until it's cuddle time. I am so lucky to have a cuddly baby. Every mommy should have one for sure. Lucy NEVER cuddled. Not since she could help it. She wanted to be on her own and Stop touching me, Mom! Even now when I idly touch her hair when we're in line at a store or if I sit too close to her on the couch, she'll move away and ask me to stop touching her. It's hard on a Mama whose love language is physical contact! (Good thing she makes up for it in other ways. Like being awesome putting on dance routines and building stable yet very tall towers!) But John, he's a snuggler. He likes to just root right in here and find a comfy place under my neck and grab on to the shoulders of my shirt for dear life. He's a master of the drooly open mouth kisses and will often accompany them with an "AAAaaaaauuuuh!" So violently he loves.

He knows the sign for "milk" now and uses it to mean "milk", but also "food" and "Mama." You know, because I'm just a cuddly milk bag. Although, I'm pretty sure he made the sign for "food" yesterday when he was whining for more cereal and fruit. He did it twice which makes me think it might have been intentional and not just shoving hand by mouth baby MO.

The kids are sharing a room now, which is working out just ok. I mean, as long as I don't wait too long to put Lucy down and she's already turned into the overtired Monster Lucy that does whatever she can to wake up her brother. And then wake him up again and again every time he falls back asleep. John goes down around 7 and Lucy goes to bed around 8, and unfortunately John's kind of a light sleeper, so we have to go in there and quiet them down once or twice a night on average. But it's ok for now. And we have a basement bedroom for when it just isn't working at all and Lucy needs somewhere else to be. So, yeah. Ok. Not awesome. But ok.

John's sleeping is a little better these days, but nothing to brag about. Most nights I get 6-7 hours of sleep now, though, which is HUGE. 6 months of sleep deprivation does really funny things to a person. When Lucy's at school he'll sleep for at least 2 hours in the morning. When she's here with us? 40 minutes. It's like he has this internal alarm that wakes him up as soon as she and I are doing something fun together.

The bigger John gets, the more the kids can interact in some sort of meaningful way. Lucy's still the best at making him laugh, and she's getting good at figuring out how to manipulate him to be close to her and watch her play and yet not get her toys. It's a fine line. Now that he's pretty fast getting around, they play chase too, which is hilarious. Lucy will go on her ride-on truck or her balance bike around our circular floor plan and Johnny will just army crawl after her as fast as his little arms will take him. Peals of laughter ensue. Both of them think it's pretty much the funniest thing EVER. Well, and really, so do I.

Two kids just keeps getting better.

Photo Update: Fall

2011-11-01T10:34:00.000-07:00

I need to throw some pictures up here for posterity's sake!

Pumpkin patch:

Pumpkin carving:

Creative juices flowing

Halloween!

John as a scary cute skeleton:

Lucy's three costumes!

Lucy's always been more of a
dump truck kind of girl, so when she
was excited about a princess dress,
so was I!

This is the Crayon costume MY mommy

made for me when *I* was 3.

She wore it to her preschool party.

(Trick-or-treating at Daddy's office)

The house from "UP" This was all Lucy's idea. The house took me about two nap/rest times and one evening to finish. I wish I had taken a close-up of it, because it's pretty awesome if I do say so myself!

Goings On

2011-10-26T14:14:00.000-07:00

I started running again. Well, I had been running here and there whenever it worked out, but this weekend I started actually making it a priority again.

I remember now why I stopped making it a priority. I don't get enough sleep (JOHN!) to recuperate and I am ALWAYS TIRED.

The Bubba's work has been crazy busy (what else is new?) and between traveling to Chicago and just getting stuff done at the office his presence is somewhat of a rarity around here. The only day he's here for sure is Sunday and that's the day *I* work.

As evidence of the above, Bubba pulled an all-nighter last night because there was something he had to submit to the City of Chicago today.

Combination of all of the above: Tired.

Lucy changes her mind at least daily about what she wants to be for halloween. The latest suggestions: a balloon, a fire hose, a sandwich, a train, a grasshopper, a square.

I would like Lucy to wear the crayon costume that my mommy made ME when I was four. We'll see if that happens.

Lucy is almost over the Preschool Cough of Death, so of COURSE John just got it. And I was So! Careful! About containing and washing and disinfecting. Goes to show you.

There's not a whole lot more pathetic than a six-month old with a wet, phlegmy cough complete with a gag reflex. Especially at night when I'm sitting up with him in the rocking chair ready to catch the cough-barf.

(My life is awesome)

(Tired)

I made Lucy a princess dress for a dress-up birthday party on Saturday. Well, I bought a dress at the thrift store to use the bodice and then I made the skirt. I am thrilled with how it turned out. I'll post pictures at some point.

This led me to complain to the Bubba that even though I've been asking for a sewing machine for Christmas the last three years, Santa has yet to acquiesce. Bubba told me it's because Santa doesn't want to bring me something so "domestic" preferring to leave things like a new laptop battery and fancy salon massages. So I suggested that maybe it should be a Halloween present. Point of long boring story that you don't really care about: I have a new sewing machine on the way.

Let's end it on that note, shall we? Yay new toys!

Jet Setting

2011-10-14T09:48:00.000-07:00

Every time I tell people that we went on a trip, everyone's first question is "How did the kids do?" Which I totally understand. I mean, who doesn't want to hear the grueling tale of a five month old inconsolably throwing fits and then sharing righteous anger at comments from other passengers and flight attendants. It's both a Better You Than Me moment as well as an I've Been There moment. I was convinced that my kids would be a challenge on this trip, but they were complete and total angels and not even once was I stressed out about their behavior.

I prepared for the worst. I spent a small fortune on treats and color books and surprises for Lucy's backpack. I made sure I had half a dozen pacifiers and teething toys and two blankies for John. We didn't use half of it. I blame it entirely on the ages of our kids. Lucy just turned 3, so she's able to entertain herself for longer periods, and John is young enough to be happy being held and easy to please (generally speaking).

Lucy spent most of the trip to Chicago enthralled with the window and the headphones she could plug in and control the music channels in her arm rest. We just had to make sure that she didn't put it on the movie channel. They showed Pirates of the Carribean Whatever Number They're On Now and I couldn't prevent her from seeing bits of it on the screens in the aisles, but I didn't want her to get interested with the audio too. So! Headphones! Buttons to push! And then we read some of the books I stocked up on from Goodwill. The a portion of the other flights were eaten up with a Dora no-mess reveal-the-colors type picture book that was also sort of a seek-and-find. Lucy had never seen one of these, so it was pretty magical to see the objects she was looking for "appear" when she colored. She also did some dot-to-dots from an activity book. Things we didn't need: new matchbox car, tiny color book and tiny markers, half of the frillions of snacks, favorite trains.

John is old enough to be interested in playing with toys and young enough not to NEED to be down and moving around on his own. He ate, played with some toys, slept. His favorite thing was ripping the pages out of a magazine and crumpling them. This entertained him for at least 40 minutes. He was so easily taken care of, fussed very minimally as he was going to sleep and then charmed everyone around us with his smiles and coos.

Best part: Lucy singing "Life is a Highway" at regular volume as she looked out the window and then later hearing some guy three rows back whistle it softly and some lady humming it as we were landing.

Worst part: Delays out of Wisconsin on the way back so that instead of sleeping on the plane, John had his nap in the airport. I was so worried for that entire hour and a half that he'd be crabby on the plane and that we'd miss our connection in Chicago. Both ended up being totally fine.

This is why I'm thinking about doing the trip again in a few weeks except without the Bubba. I'm not in love with the idea of having a layover with both kids - in Chicago I was able to run around a little with Lucy while the Bubba took care of John to get some wiggles out - that's definitely something for the "cons" column...

Six

2011-10-13T19:12:00.000-07:00

As in months old. Six of them. I don't know if the math will back me up here, but that's so many more than five.

I haven't written anything since the 5 month post, and quite a bit has happened since then. Well, nothing BIG, but you know, stuff. Like: we went to Wisconsin and John met something like 19 of his 25 first cousins. The kids were ANGELS on the plane trips and it couldn't have been easier and now I'm thinking about making the trip again soon with both kids ON MY OWN. I may talk myself out of this.

I've also been meaning to write about how much Lucy loves preschool and how we're both meeting new friends through it. I've meant to write about how we're all sort of relaxing into fall and school and work again. How my tutoring work is awesome, and the Bubba's work is busy busy. How I'm accidently the chair of a church commission. How time is flying and I don't even know where the last six months went. Because oh my goodness, I thought time flew with Lucy, it is ten times faster with John in the mix.

But writing all that all takes time and energy. And I don't have much of either of those lately. We are currently fighting the sleep battle. He gets up at 10/10:30 for is last feeding around when I go to bed (normal) but THEN he is also getting up demanding to be fed at 2:30/3 and then up for the day at 5:45/6. Not. Awesome. So for the last week I've really been working on getting him to go back to sleep without nursing. Last night was a step back, though, because he was up and insisted on eating. BUT: progress sneaks along! Soon it will be 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep and I will have the energy to take over the WORLD. Mwah haha haha!

John is so fun right now. I am just so enamored with 5 and 6 months. Love. This stage is all cuddly baby and interested learner and smiley friend and slobbery kisser and grabby player. He learned how to blow raspberries and he lets out this playful screechy yell that says "Look at me, I'm over here!" He's not quite crawling yet, but he scoots around enough to get where he wants to be. He does the two arm drag where he kind of grabs at the floor and pulls his body along, or he does this inchworm thing where he goes up on his feet with his arms and head against floor and he scoots along ON HIS HEAD. It's pretty comical. He's almost sitting up, but he gets way too excited about reaching for things and ends up throwing his head at the floor in pursuit. So really, sitting up is dangerous.

He started eating solid food in the last two weeks. So far he's tasted avocado and banana and pear and applesauce and today he tasted carrots. Little dude's a fan of the food. He likes it from the boob, he likes it from the spoon, he likes it here or there, anywhere, etc.

We had his six month checkup at the doctor today and he's back on his growth trajectory. He weighed in at 15 pounds 5 ounces (not even double his birth weight yet!) which is in the 10th-25th percentile and he's 27.5 inches long which is the 75-80th percentile. It's really funny to me that these percentiles are so different than Lucy's. I mean, she was almost an inch taller and two and a half pounds thicker at six months. John's just so SKINNY. He has blowouts all the time because his skinny little legs just cannot fill the leg holes of the BGs I have. No matter how I put the things on. He's got a good, average sized head, too, which is nice.

He LOVES his sister and would do just about anything for her attention. And she loves him too - she'd do just about anything to make him laugh. I so hope that lasts.

5 Months

2011-09-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

FIVE MONTHS OLD ALREADY!

Actually more like five and a half months, but it's just us here so let's go ahead and pretend that I posted this on September 12, ok? Well, that's when I took the photos, so there's no faking you out there, but then I started getting ready for our two week trip to Wisconsin and things got away from me.

In this pic, John started out on the blanket surrounded by toys, but thought my computer cords might be more interesting to gnaw on. This kid is WAY more mobile than his sister was at this age. He can really get around on the hardwoods, and he's thisclose to crawling.

Since the weight discussion at the ped's last month, I haven't started him on any solids since I think they fill up his tummy without adding much caloric value. I will, however, give him the random bite of banana or avocado and he cries when it's gone - he's ready enough...maybe after his six month weight check. (Although I did weigh him this morning and it seems that he is not exempt from the gaining of vacation weight at grandma's house!)

Preschool

2011-09-02T21:00:00.000-07:00

It's blustery and cool today and feels exactly like a back-to-school fall day should, and all of a sudden my little three year old is joining the ranks of school-goers.

We kind of fell into preschool this year. I didn't sign Lucy up for anything in the spring when every other normal parent on the planet was getting on the waiting lists for their ivory-college-lead-to programs. I just wasn't sure. I wasn't sure she'd be ready at just barely three. I wasn't sure I'D be ready. I wasn't sure it would have been long enough since John was home so that she wouldn't feel like we were trying to get rid of her or replace her or some other such sad thing. So I waited.

I ended up signing Lu up for the co-op preschool since it was cheap and close to our house. But then I started getting a thousand emails a day from these over zealous moms on speed who were ridiculously excited about signing everybody up for classroom cleaning and curriculum night and assigning jobs for all the moms for the year. I mean, it'd be different if I were going into this with friends that would share childcare, but I'm not going to find a sitter for John when I have to work there. I was not looking for more work to do. It turns out that I already HAVE a job. And a half, in fact. So, no, thank you, Crazy Co-op Moms, I won't be bleaching Duplos with you this year.

My backyard neighbors (who are crazy awesome) have a four year old who went to the Christian preschool down the street last year and didn't have enough nice things to say about the school and the teachers and the whole bit. I contacted them and everything finally clicked on Monday. Today was the open house and we took our registration fee and our paperwork and overly excited three-year-old to the school and met the teachers, saw the classrooms, and got the run-down.

It looks, well, so much like SCHOOL. Bulletin boards and tiny tables and tiny chairs and gym time and drawing time and bins with safety scissors and names on coat hooks. Lucy dove right in and never even looked up to make sure we were around. She played with the train table and looked at puzzles and made sure the books on the shelves actually had good pictures. She even made a couple friends and shouted "Excuse me!" the teacher until Lucy had her attention (at least it was pseudo-polite, right?).

The teachers are saccharine, the other parents seemed with-it and nice, the other children just as eager as mine to come and play. Lucy will be there three hours a day for two days a week. I'm happy with our choice.

I am surprisingly okay with all of this so far. I had the epiphany that John will be napping while Lu's at school and I'll have time to DO things! So the first thing I did was look for a knitting pattern for a Preschool Sweater. I made sure that Lucy's drawers were full of clothes that actually fit her (SCHOOL clothes!), and when I saw her get busy being Lucy all over that preschool room, I knew that I shouldn't worry. But there's a coat hook with Lucy's name on it in a little ante-room of that preschool, and my (tiny, sweet) little baby is going to hang up her jacket there on Wednesday and run off into a whole other part of her life without me.

She's going to have a great time. I'M the one that's going to need hugs.

Check-ups

2011-09-01T21:09:00.000-07:00

Both kids saw the doctor yesterday. John for his four month well-baby visit, and Lucy for her three year visit. Both kids are still healthy and awesome.

Lucy is 41 inches tall, which is still above the 98%, and she weighs 36 pounds. Her weight is bumped up to the 90% this time after two years of being in the 50-75%! At the three year visit, they start taking the kid's blood pressure. It seems odd to me, but what do I know? After the nurse took the cuff off and left, I asked Lucy what she thought of it. She said "It squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezed but didn't hurt. Kinda like a hug." They also start doing BMI at this visit; she's in the 25-50%.

Lucy also pulled out the "Excuse me, Dr. Sarah? May I please read this book?" indicating one of the children's books in the exam room. Dr. Sarah looked at me with her eyebrows raised saying something like "So polite and so smart. What an awesome combination." I didn't tell her that it might have been the first time I've heard anything like that out of Lucy's mouth before (sarcastic exaggeration).

John's doing well, too. He's drooling up a storm and gnawing on everything he can get his hands on, but no teeth coming yet. He's got some early stranger anxiety (the kid's always been a big bad mama's boy) and he had big sobs every time the nurse or doctor came near. He's rolling all over the place now, and he does this inch-worm crawl thing to reach his toys already. I had something like 7 months before Lucy deigned to move anywhere on her own; this kid is already planning mass destruction, I can just feel it.

He's 26.5 inches long which puts him in the 85-95%. This is a new thing for me; none of my babies were ever less than >98% for height before! But all of his stats dipped this month. In fact, he weighs 13 pounds, 6 ounces which puts him in the 10th percentile for his weight. The doctor was a wee bit concerned about this since he weighed almost 13 pounds at his last visit two months ago and was in the 50-75th percentile. I guess they like kids to stay close to their percentile projections. But, I haven't noticed anything wrong with his eating, I haven't noticed anything wrong with my supply, and if I thought the poor kid was hungry I'm not so fanatical about breast feeding that I wouldn't make him a bottle of formula.

So, it's one of those We'll Keep An Eye On IT things. Which of course means that it's probably nothing to worry about and now all I do is worry about it. Don't bother telling me not to, I'm in Mama Bear mode. I'm guaging my supply every time he eats, listening for all of the wet, slurpy swallows. I want to feed him every time he cries, because MAYBE HE'S HUNGRY! But really, I'm doing my best to keep dong what I've been doing and not worry about it unless it turns into something I need to worry about.

So! In sum, my kids are both very tall and thin and healthy. I also got a copy of Lucy's immunizations while we were there. You know, like you do. For SCHOOL. But that's a whole 'nother post for another night.

Race Day

2011-08-20T13:19:00.000-07:00

Today my family ran the Covey Run!

I was weepy ALL MORNING. The Covey Run benifits uncompensated care at the Children's Hospital, and we ran because a friend and colleague of Bubba's has kids with complicated health histories. There were teams of all sorts, of all ages, of all sizes. And I was weepy thinking of the kids whose lives are saved or made better by this and of my own kids who are so healthy. Why yes, I CAN push 80 pounds of stroller for miles for you. (I even saw an "In memory of" team t-shirt and shut it down, people, I almost did the ugly cry at mile 1.5.)

The Bubba ran the 10k and I ran the 5k with the kids in the stroller.

Lucy's debut race

And Lucy ran her first event: a quarter mile kids' dash. She got a medal and was SO. PROUD. (I heard "I ran SO FAST!" and "Look at my medal! I won the race!" approximately a million times. But it was cute even the millionth time.)

She is awesome.

It was a spectacular event. I'm so glad we did it.

(Look how much John enjoyed it!)

(This is my new favorite family picture.)

Four

2011-08-13T13:12:00.000-07:00

Didn't I just write a three month post? Yeah, well Johnny is four months old now. Time has sped up exponentially since John was born. I mean, the math might not back me up on this, but two kids is WAY more kids than one kid.

I like this picture because John and Toad are identical: slouchy body, vacant expression...

John found his feet yesterday. He's been watching his hands sail by his face for a couple weeks now with a curious Can I Eat These? expression. (He eats EVERYTHING.) But yesterday he got a hold of his feet. And, oh the joy of wrestling with something that wrestles back!

(Going for a Full Nelson on Toad)

This month I've gotten John on a predictable sleep schedule. I'll pause here for the appropriate accolades. Because all of a sudden? NO MORE FUSSY BABY. He's fun when he's awake! And giggly! And he plays and interacts! He rolls from front to back and back to front to reach for toys! I thought he might fuss me out, but as it turns out, it didn't last forever.

By far his favorite thing is sitting/laying somewhere and watching his sister play. Which is great for ME because it's Lucy's favorite thing too! From the other room I'll hear "Watch at THIS, Johnny!" and a train crash or a tower fall and then two sets of giggles. And I'm pretty sure that's what it sounds like when the angels sing.

Four months is FUN. All the happy with none of the fussy? I'll totally take it.

His new throne to better rule the family.

Also! I didn't tell you about his baptism! John Ignatius was baptized on July 31, the feast day of St. Ignatius. At our church we dunk the babies. I love this. I love the little naked babies splashing in the holy water.

There's just something about it; I always have to hold back tears.

And it was just such hard work being baptized, John passed right out afterward. The untroubled sleep of the newly forgiven, I suppose.

Because I'm Three

2011-08-08T19:56:00.000-07:00

Or, more precisely, "Because I'm FREE!" is what Lucy says any time there are three of ANYTHING: signs, grapes on her plate, train cars - "There are free of dem buh-cos I'M free too!"

Saturday was a super fun party at a playground, and everyone was so busy playing that no one wanted to stop to open presents! I think that's a sign of a pretty good time. And Sunday, Lucy's actual birthday, we went to a little fair-type thing and Lu got to ride a pony. She was so thrilled, she kept saying "LOOK AT ME!" To whomever would listen.

I've been putting off writing about Lucy's birthday because I wanted to write about how Lucy is the person who has had by far the most imact on my life. The little baby that made me a Mama. The toddler who made me a Mommy. The little girl who made me a Mom. But it's hard to write that because I'm not a huge fan of Three so far. I haven't really wanted the record to show that This Isn't Fun. But then again, what is this space but a place to be perfectly honest with myself and drag you along with me for the ride?

So.

Thee is really wonderful! When it's not sucking my will to live. It's smart and cute! When it's not sassy and contrary. Three is interesting conversations! When it's not creative ways to talk back. Three is playing fun, intricate imaginary games! When it's not striking out with fists or feet. Three is having a real sense of humor and telling jokes and laughing hysterically. When it's not "Sorry Mom!" lip service and "I was JUST..." reasoning corrections away.

So far Three is about fifty-fifty, then.

I have to think that some of it is latent Get Used To Sharing Attention With New Baby. But some of it is just plain 'ole Willful Child ~~Out To Get Me~~ Testing Boundaries. On the one hand, I'm glad she's nobody's fool and she'll fully understand something before she's on board with it. But on the other hand, how do I keep a kid safe who wants to just maybe put her TOE out into traffic to see if it gets run over and what that feels like. It's frustrating for both of us and generally not the best time in our lives.

It reminds me of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem There Was A Little Girl: "There was a little girl, who had a little curl/right in the middle of her forehead/When she was good, she was very very good/but when she was bad she was horrid [...]" (Which, now that I think about it was how my mother described ME, so maybe this is just payback. I shake my fist at your mother's curse, Mom!)

I mean, Lucy can be so sweet and play so nicely and come up with the funniest things to say and do. I love having conversations with her because she actually has some sort of insight or pretend bit or interesting observation to share, now. She's always been so verbal and so smart, and right now is no exception. And when she decides that she's not down with something? She turns into a wild beast of evil intentions. Flip, aaaaand flop.

I don't know why anyone calls the Twos terrible when Three ensues. Has nobody noticed? Because everyone I've talked to says that Three is the challenging age, not Two. I mean, Two was all about pushing boundaries, to actually FIND them. Three is systematically pushing at each section of boundary to see if and when they give. (Hopefully Four is all about living happily within them. Wouldn't that be nice!)

Minutes old:

One year old:

Two years old:

Three years old!

My little baby girl. My heart aches it's so full of love and pride for her. Be gentle with me, Three.

Random Stuff

2011-07-26T08:45:00.000-07:00

Since I can't put a proper post together this is what you get:

__________

I've been reading a whole lot of books lately. I have five or six out from the library right now and I'm racing to get all of them finished by the time they're due back. Some trashy YA fiction, some contemporary fiction, and, of course, Bossypants. I've been laughing out loud and obnoxiously saying, "Bubba, listen to this..." But most of all I can't stop referring to John's chub as "crotch biscuits" while giggling. She's obviously changed my life.

__________

We started Lucy in swim lessons for July and August. She LOVES it. It's something special that she and Bubba get to do together - they usually go out for ice cream afterward. She's great in the pool, follows directions, tries new things. But she still screams about getting her hair washed or her face wet in the bathtub. Sigh.

__________

John's started rolling both front to back and back to front. He's only 15 weeks old. I feel like Lucy took way longer to get there. I didn't have nearly enough put-the-baby-down-and-he'll-be-there-when-you-get-back time. That's not to say it's all intentional - he'll definitely roll trying to reach for a toy, but it's still a big surprise (to him!) as to where he ends up.

He's also started laughing out loud. It's the best thing since smiles.

__________

The Bubba has three projects going on simultaniously at work. That means that we hardly ever see him any more; he's working crazy hours (for the last two weeks he's logged almost 170 hours).

It's hard for a variety of reasons, the main two are 1)I'm worried that he's stressing too much and not getting enough sleep, and 2) I have to change my priorities. My house being clean has to take a back seat because there's only so much I can do with two Littles. Making healthful dinners has become more of a priority to make sure the Bubba at least has some good healthy food in his belly. It's hard for me to let things go, though. I am a prideful person and I think that I should be able to do it all at all times and when we're living in a messy house I feel like I've failed. So it's been a touchy time around here!

__________

Speaking of letting things go, I'm really sad that I haven't been training for the half marathon I'm supposed to be doing in September. Like in 7 weeks. Yeah. Don't think that's going to happen. Which totally sucks because I've been recruiting my and the Bubba's family to do it with us, and I HATE the idea of everybody doing it without me. Someone said "Why don't you just run/walk it?" and I wouldn't want to because I wouldn't be DOING it then, you know? Maybe not? I'm a nut job. Maybe there's still time to get some training in if John starts sleeping more consisitantly or if the Bubba stops going in to work at the crack of dawn so I could get a longer morning run in. Yet to be seen - but it ain't looking good. Again with the Being All Things At All Times. I mean I KNOW right now it makes sense that I should just concentrate on getting good sleep and doing what I CAN (workout videos). BUT. That doesn't stop me from wanting free time to go running by myself without children crying in the stroller.

__________

Lucy's been waking up dry after naps. Which is fantastic! Except that she insists on having a lollipop for a reward treat.

And even that wouldn't be a big deal, but she makes it last forrrevvvvverrrrrr by having the smallest tongue-out lick of it every few minutes. And THAT means that everything in her vicinity gets a shiny new sticky veneer. I've got to convince her that M&Ms can be good victory treats too.

__________

Yesterday there was a wicked thunderstorm that came through our neighborhood. A couple of times I was alarmed at how close the lightning was. The kids were terrified - we very rarely get electrical storms like that around here. And as I was marveling at some lightning/thunder that looked/sounded like it was right over my house, we lost power. For the ENTIRE MORNING. 6ish hours of no power. It was terrible. I felt imprisoned. I couldn't even use my cell phone too much because my battery was low! So we loaded in the car and spent the whole morning at the fancy mall with a bookstore train table and a covered play area.

__________

We've got some busy social things coming up, too. A friend's party on Saturday (I'm going OUT! on my OWN! to a PARTY! in a dress I don't have to think about NURSING in!) and then Sunday is John's baptism and brunch at our house with the godparents' families. I actually had a stress dream about the baptism last night. I dreamt that I came home to get John changed into the baptismal gown and forgot to change myself, so I was at the front of the church in my pajamas and I was super mad because I bought a new dress for the baptism. Huh. Anyway.

__________

We're trying this for dinner tonight. We can eat soup because it's only 60 degrees around these parts. I've got some salad too, and some bread rising. The perfect curl up in front of the fireplace with a blanket food! No summer for us! (That's not to say I'm not thankful it's not 110 degrees here... I've become such a wimpy north westerner in the last six years!)

__________

Lucy has been doing "exercises" (the Shred) with me in the morning. It's hard working out with her because she cracks me up! She made her own hand weights out of Trio blocks and she knows all the moves and the girls' names.

I have to really concentrate so that I don't laugh and lose what I'm doing.

__________

Well, PBS is babysitting my Big Little while my Little Little sleeps, and I need to go take advantage and shower.

Three and Sleep

2011-07-14T14:21:00.000-07:00

And then the child was three months old.

And right in the middle of his I-Could-Eat-All-Day!(And-Maybe-I-Will!) growth spurt. Basically every couple hours he's crabbing either to eat or to sleep. Which, you know, is awesome. Because crabby babies rule. Or something. At least I have something tangible to blame it on. Somehow that always helps.

I really don't have much to complain about in the sleep department. John is SUCH a good sleeper. He's been sleeping from 6 or 7 in the evening until 4 or 5ish in the morning, eat and then go back to sleep until 6:30. Every once in a while he'll wake up and cry at 2 or so, but I can sleepily put his pacifier in his mouth and he falls back asleep. He sleeps right next to me in his bassinet, so I don't even really have to wake up all the way to find the pacifier or to drag him into bed with me to nurse. And then by the time I've nursed him, I'm awake enough to get up and either burp him/swaddle him/put him back to bed or change his diaper or get up for the day or whatever. I love it so much. Especially since I never could sleep with Lucy in the room. I don't know if it was a First Baby Nerves thing or if she just made a bunch of noise in her sleep or what, but it never worked well. Maybe I'm just so much more tired this time around that nothing bothers me!

One down side to John's sleep is that I have a second light sleeper. Lucy still needs her white noise machine to fall asleep and it takes her forEVER to fall asleep. John doesn't take so long to fall asleep, but the littlest squeak will startle him awake during the day. He'll sleep in the baby carrier when he's exhausted, but one nap there, and he's ruined. He has a hard time for the rest of the day. But it does mean that if I don't want to deal with a crazy crabby baby, I have to plan on being home when he's tired, which isn't too predictable yet. At least it doesn't seem to affect his night sleeping.

Lucy has been very sweet with John. She's always excited to squeeze and kiss him when he wakes up. She loves making his toys "dance" for him, and that's usually good for a smile and a yell. He yells at her! Not this soft lovey "ggoooooouuuul" coo thing he does for the 'rents. Oh, no. This is a good "GooLUUuuuu" sent from his diaphragm. Like he knows who he's dealing with. And maybe he does.

The reality - barfed on, crowded and mad.

More Wedding Pictures!

2011-07-07T20:48:00.001-07:00

You guys, I don't need a whole lot of prompting! How about a whole post just to have an excuse to show you some more pictures of my wedding dress?!

The Bubba proposed to me on November 2, 2005 in France after having dated for all of 10 months or so. On the walk-up level of the Tour Eiffel, in fact (if you ask him). It was terribly romantic. Being the broke world travelers that we were, we went to the BHV (the Tar-zhey of Paris) and picked out a tasteful yet funny-to-us piece of bling for 25 Euro. We giggled all the way to the Eiffel Tower. When we caught our breath from all the stairs, he said "Well? Are you going to put it on?" So I did.

And then he took this picture.

I was living in Nantes, France doing a year-long assistantship program. The Bubba was living in Lund, Sweden doing a year-long fellowship program. We were trying to plan a wedding in Wisconsin for the following July. We did what we could over email and phone, and we left the rest to our parents! I wanted to elope and then just have a big backyard barbeque, but the Bubba was having none of that. So, my sweet mother planned our whole incredible wedding and we got to show up for the party and have a good time. It was awesome.

I did, however pick out my dress in France. It was the second one I tried on and I just loved it. I loved the original neckline. I loved the teeny-tiny little train. It just looked well on me.

My Bubba and I walked each other down the aisle.

I got such special treatment flying with a huge obvious garment bag with PARIS stamped across it in huge letters. The flight attendants always hung it in their baggage spaces for me and everyone oohed and aahed and congratulated me and generally caught a little bit of the romantic excitement of getting married and wearing a special French dress.

Me and my (big) sister

Dancing the night away

We were sent on our way with showers of sparklers in the parking lot of the reception venue. I love that we got married on the 4th of July weekend. A) It's easy to remember, B) we always have a 3-day weekend to celebrate, C) fireworks!

And then we lived happily ever after and had two babies and never got any sleep ever again.

The end.

Super Long Photo Update

2011-07-06T19:39:00.000-07:00

Um, so evidently I'm only posting once a month now? Man, having a bitty baby and a demanding two-almost-three-year-old is really busy. Especially now that the sun is shining. We have this inbred need to be out and soak it up quick! before October comes and we don't see the sun again until next July!

So let me catch you up.

The Bubba ran his half marathon. This is the same one I ran last year just before we found out Johnny was on board. He (Bubba not Johnny) beat my time by 33 minutes. I love him anyway. (His time was 1:38.) Lucy dictated a poster for him:

and the kids and I went to cheer him on. It was kind of fun to be on the spectator side. Doing it with two babies was a challenge, though. Parking and strolling and finding space and herding the two-year-old and loading and snacking and peeing. And then Lucy was totally clueless when my Bubba actually ran by. Ah well!

Our 4th of July weekend was wonderful.

Saturday was our anniversary. The math tells me we've been married for 6 years.

Rehearsal dinner

I'd like to draw your attention to the Bubba's SMIRK here.

Me: Happy Joyful Him: Aw Yeeah.

I got caught up in a rabbit hole of looking at wedding photos just now. What a fun wedding we had! Seems like yesterday. And yet we look so YOUNG.

[Related tangent: I got fitted for contact lenses again a couple weeks ago (I've been wearing glasses exclusively since Lucy was born) and as I started wearing them, every time I looked in the mirror I was like "Where did all these WRINKLES come from???" My glasses were doing a good job of hiding them and convincing me that I still look 25 under there. HA!]

The Bubba took me out for dinner without our babies Saturday night. Of course we had to wait for them to be asleep, but by 8:45, we were at a fancy bar having a fancy drink and talking. Yup - we talked to each other. And then we had dinner at an awesome Puerto Rican place. It was heaven. We were out until almost 11 and I thought I might die of exhaustion. Big party animals up in here, people! But! John gave us a little gift and slept for 10! Hours! that night. Exclamation! Point!

Sunday, Lucy had her Very First Swim Lesson. Not a whole lot has made me feel more like a mom than signing Lucy up for swim lessons. And she was so excited that mere inches from the door to the pool, she took a huge digger and scraped up her knee and ankle. With blood dripping down her leg, I had to break her little heart and tell her they might not let her swim with an owie like that. However, one of the ladies was like, oh, here's a band-aid and if it comes off I'll get you another one. Nothing like being lax about open wounds in the pool, but whatever!

The Bubba was the parent in the pool. As if you needed me to tell you that. That's exactly what I need right now is to get in a SWIMSUIT in front of all of these moms of six month olds who can still wear bikinis. I have about 100 pounds to lose before I'll do that. Anyway - back to Lucy - she had an awesome time and blew bubbles and moterboated and kicked legs and she's been talking about it all week. So far so awesome.

We also spent some time at the zoo this weekend. It's always a special treat when Daddy comes with us.

Some random lady even offered to take our picture. I love how you can just see Johnny's eyes peeping out over the ergo. I also love how I mis-hooked my nursing tank and manage to look kind of skanky (sarcasm). But really, what are you going to do? I had to feed the boy child by the meerkats before running to see the orangutans. It happens.

That night, I asked Lucy what her favorite part of the day was. She said it was her ice cream treat that she got to eat at the park.

Can't blame her.

Elle est pas belle la vie!

Two

2011-06-15T13:42:00.000-07:00

Two whole months since we met you. And yet, it seems like you've always been a part of our family.

I mentioned to Lucy that it was Johnny's two month birthday, she was so excited, that she insisted we make brownies with sprinkles on top and sing happy birthday. So we did. Any excuse for brownies is a good one for Lu. (She didn't drag me into the kitchen kicking and screaming either, I suppose...)

The whole name issue hasn't totally resolved itself yet, but the Bubba and I tend to call him John/Johnny and occasionally Jack. Lucy calls him Jack or Jackie and occasionally Johnny. All of this is more okay with me this month.

Johnny is mostly happy and charming. He smiles and says "aaooooo" and "ggguuuuuuhoooo" and "iye-uuuh" and "kkkkkkkhhhh" emphasizing his points with swift punches to the air. He has a special place in his heart for his sister already - saving the best smiles and loudest coos for her. It melts my heart, really. He loves being outside already and he will back arch his way right out of my arms if I don't give him enough space to look around at everything.

Speaking of arching his back, he can already push up on his arms, arch, and roll from belly to back. Not every time, but enough that I'm saying it on my blog for posterity. He surprises himself every time and mostly isn't too happy about it. He likes being on his tum. Today at the pediatrician, he rolled and surprised her too. My Strong Man is already checking off 4 month skills.

2 month checkup stats: he is 25 inches long, greater than the 98th percentile for height, and he's 50-75th percentile for weight at 12 pounds 10.5 ounces. His noggin is 40 1/4 centimeters, which really doesn't mean that much to me, but I suppose it's pretty important that his brain is growing some in there. He had three pokes today and one oral vaccine, so he's slipped into that post-inoculation coma that I'd forgotten about. Poor baby.

Last night he slept from 8:30pm until 4:30am. All I can do is hope and pray it keeps happening, because ohmygoodness it was so nice. But really, waking up to such a cute little guy isn't the worst thing I've experienced.

Happy two months, Johnny!

Remember Me?

2011-05-31T12:59:00.000-07:00

John is seven weeks old today. Last week I had my follow-up midwife appointment. I had to get on that scale again. This time I looked at the numbers. And they mattered to me.

I worked so hard for the last few years to get myself fit again after having Lucy. I was down to a skinny weight and I ran two half marathons last summer for the love. I was FIT. And now here I am at another starting point. I'm 30 pounds overweight (again), and I'm eating whatever I can eat with one hand while the other arm is occupied with a newborn who still widely refuses to be set down. I decided that John's being a cuddle monkey, or having a newborn at all, or having two kids, is no excuse for not taking better care of myself.

I can't fit into my "fat" pre-pregnancy clothes; I'm still living in my maternity yoga pants and t-shirts. I don't ever want to go shopping again and face those dressing room mirrors that show a lumpy-looking me in an enormous size (postpartum hormones and dressing rooms DO NOT MIX. I should know that. And yet.).

Now, don't get me wrong. I pushed a baby out seven short weeks ago, and I'm pretty proud of my body for doing that. But now I'm saying, thank you, fat, for taking care of my baby and my pregnant body, but I don't need you any more! I've made a conscious decision to give myself a little more room and time so that this doesn't end up being a body-image downer, and instead I can focus on running and being fit again and fueling an athlete's body.

I've decided that for the month of June, I'm going to eat a vegetarian diet. I want to do this for a few reasons: a) we don't eat that much meat anyway so it's not that much of a stretch, b) to see if I can, c) to kick myself into an eating healthily again focusing on fruits and veggies, and d) to force myself to find some new and interesting vegetarian recipes to add to our boring recipe repertoire.

My saintly husband looked at me sideways when I made this announcement and said "Does that mean we ALL have to be vegetarians?" I promised him I'd come up with some really interesting recipes and we could reassess what he thought of it in a week or two. So far, I think we're in for some good stuff this week including this casserole among other things.

I'm also gearing myself up to start seriously running again with the ginormous double stroller. FYI two kids and a stroller are HEAVY. I'm going to be seriously buff if I can do my old 35 miles/week distances with this thing. Right now it's all I can do to huff and puff a mile.

But! You gotta start somewhere! And that's where I am.

Friday Photos

2011-05-27T08:11:00.001-07:00

Little old man smiles!

I forgot how completely gratifying a little smile can be.

Evidently I turned 32 last weekend according to the math.

Lu and Bubba took me for a nice walk to the Locks.

Lucy at the locks

I took my birthday as an excuse to buy a two-baby moving contraption.

I opted for the bike trailer that can be converted to a jogger.

Not much else going on around here! We're mostly still in survival mode.

One

2011-05-13T12:00:00.000-07:00

One whole month!

(Adorable "Little Monster" onsie courtesy of Emily)

My Jiggity-Jack is one month old already, can you believe it? Because I can't. This month has been a serious blur.

We're still not quite sure what to call this man-child. I love my baby's name, and I love my boy, but I have a really hard time associating the two with each other for some reason. I call him Baby Boy or Baby Brudder, Buddy or The Dude. We only decided on his name maybe a couple hours before he was born. My dad's name was Jon. And we both liked the idea of honoring him. (We opted for the more conventional spelling.) And Ignatius is after the Bubba's Grandpa Iggy. We really like this family connection thing. It's so different than how we named Lucy. (You like Lucy? Yeah. You? Yeah. Ok!) But! What will we call him? We were/are pretty sold on Jack, but then...we could call him Johnny! Or Iggy! And when I do call him by a name, John is usually the first thing that comes out. Lucy is convinced that his name is Baby Jack, though, and will correct me when I call him John or Ig. Ah well! Something will stick in the not-so-distant future.

This baby is a complete cuddle monkey. Well, that's a nice way to put it. We tease that he likes to be right next to the Source (my chest) at all times. In fact, he'd prefer to have constant unfettered access whether or not he's hungry thankyouverymuch. But I do have to draw the line somewhere, and I opt for decency and the potential to leave the house. He's awake and alert for an hour and a half at a time these days, and most of that time I spend walking around our circular floor plan with him. God forbid I set this kid down. I don't know how I haven't lost all thousand pounds I gained being pregnant with him just from the miles I''m walking around my house... He prefers the Bjorn to the Moby (which is disappointing since the Moby's more comfy for me!) and is more than content to spend every moment of the day either plugged into his Source or strapped on right next to it. I've gotten pretty good at getting things done around here with one hand, with a baby strapped to me, or with passionate screaming in the background.

"Are you getting any sleep?" The short answer: some. He had his nights and days screwed up for the first few weeks, which was less than fun, but now he's straightened himself out a bit. We wake up twice a night, usually at 12ish and 3ish, and otherwise sleep from 9:30 to 6am or so. And usually Jack just needs a dipe, meal, burp, bed. It's not that bad a gig, but hoo boy, it's catching up to me! Especially with this mastitis setback, I've been seriously wishing I could "sleep when the baby sleeps."

When he does deign to sleep in his bassinet, he much prefers to sleep on his stomach. So I let him. (Judge away, people!) But because of that, instead of a bald patch in the back of his head, John is losing the hair on the sides! Hee! And for all the Get The Toddler Outside As Much As Possible hat wearing that he does, it's coming out at the top too. So basically the only place he has much hair is in the back. It's the most committed mullet I've ever seen.

Mostly he's awesome. And Lucy's doing well; she swings from ambivalence to violent affection to curiosity/wanting to help. It works out. So far, I'm still kind of scared to leave the house and do errands with two kids. That's not to say I haven't done it. But I'm just sure John will blow out or be starving in the middle of groceries and Lucy will run away and hide in the aisles and CPS will be waiting for me in the parking lot. So, you know, we've been taking baby steps. A walk to the park here, a trip to pick up diapers there.

Life is slowly getting a little easier as we all get used to each other's schedules and quirks.

What? It's May?

2011-05-10T07:53:00.001-07:00

Time stopped for me in March sometime. My aunt and uncle came over the other day with a pie to celebrate an early birthday for me. I was all, "Um, but my birthday's in MAY." Uh. Oh yeah.

It's called Newborn Haze.

Mother's Day was kind of a non-event over here. When we were young and single (read: without children), gift giving occasions were...maximized. I mean, I used to have a "birthday month." I'd start teasingly reminding the Bubba at the end of April that my birthday is approaching. And he'd start being coy and teasing about my gift and I'd take May as an excuse to go out for lunch more often or to treat myself to those sunglasses I was checking out at Anthropologie.

The Bubba would then make an appropriately big deal out of my birthday. For example, our first May together, the Bubba got tickets to Les Contes d'Hoffmann which is only my favorite opera of all time. (Worth it just for the Barcarolle. It brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it it's so pretty.) One other birthday, he took me out to dinner at a schmancy place downtown one night and then rented us kayaks to watch the sunset over the Sound the next night.

For Mother's Day this year, the Bubba and Lucy collaborated on a card, I bought myself a work out DVD, and the Bubba let me take a nap, made dinner and put clean sheets on the bed.

I wouldn't trade that for all the sunset tours in Seattle.

Royalty, Indeed.

2011-04-29T10:07:00.000-07:00

Lady Katie's got nothin' on my little Lu Bird.

Lucy saw some of the wedding coverage on the morning show I had on and said "I can get my tutu and my special crown and go to there!"

Twos

2011-04-28T08:50:00.000-07:00

Two kids! If one's not crying the other one is! (This should be my new tagline.)

(At least) two loads of laundry every day what with the spit-up, pee fountains, leaky boobs, kicking the toddler out to play in the muddy backyard, etc.

Two huge piles of clean, not folded laundry in my very messy living room.

Two piles of dishes stacked up on either side of my kitchen sink.

A two year old girl constantly pushing boundaries. Especially now.

A two-year old girl who is so sweet it hurts sometimes. Yesterday she said "I love you, Mommy. You're my best girl I know."

Two minutes that Jack and Lucy let me rock both of them simultaneously this morning. Nice, warm, squishy cuddles with two not-crying babies with my eyes closed. Two minutes in heaven.

Easter with two babies.

A two-week old baby who gained a whole pound in his second week after losing 11oz from his birthweight. His 14 day old stats: 22.5in long (98%); 9lbs, 6.5oz (75%); head 37cm (90%).

Two arms that are constantly around said two-week old since he simply cannot abide being put down even for a moment.

Two entire days it took me to write this lame post! Evidently free time is a thing of the past!

Two tired mommy eyes.

On the Day He Was Born...

2011-04-22T09:42:00.000-07:00

Monday afternoon I had a Non Stress Test. When I contracted, Bidou's heart rate dropped, and the midwife threw around the word "induce." I was still upset about going through all this false labor and my body not being able to just take care of things themselves, but when I saw my baby's heart rate fall, I had no other qualms. Let's do this.

Monday evening I had a Cook Catheter or cervical balloon inserted. It's just as enjoyable as it sounds. One balloon goes on one side of the cervix, and one goes on the other to create pressure and thin and dilate and blah, blah, etc. I didn't want to stay at the hospital, and requested to go home for one last night's sleep before everything changed. I took one Tylenol PM and slept like a stone for 7 hours in my wonderful, soft, comfy bed.

Bright and early on Tuesday the Bubba and I had breakfast with Lucy and Llama. We tried to explain that we were going to the hospital to bring Baby Brother home. Lucy crawled up in my lap and said "Mama, don't go to your hospital. You should stay here with me." It broke my heart a little bit, and I couldn't imagine how her little world was about to be rocked. But then Grandma promised to play computer games with Lucy and her tune changed to "You go to your hospital. BYE!"

We reported to L&D and started Pitocin at 9am on Tuesday. At first, everything looked great. Bidou was doing well on the monitor! There were no more dips in his heart rate! But there was not much progression either. I was about 4 cm dilated and 50% effaced. For whatever reason, Bidou's head was not engaging. He was not moving down into the birth canal. Sigh. We had a long way to go.

Eight hours later, I opted for an epidural. And that's when things started getting, shall we say, interesting. It will take me a long time to forget enough to have another epidural. First, I got faint and nauseated and my blood pressure was alarmingly low, so the anesthesiologist had to come back to my room to adjust the medication. Then the weird, uncomfortable "pins and needles" feeling never went away in my legs. I convinced myself that it was better than feeling the freight train contractions, but it was a small consolation at that point for the dead legs that were still painful and uncomfortable.

And it turned out that Bidou still wasn't happy. His heart rate started dipping dangerously again and I was manhandled into several different uncomfortable positions and I sucked oxygen and the whole nine yards while the nurses and my midwife speculated about the umbilical cord being compressed. The same thing happened with Lucy, so this wasn't my first rodeo. But then my midwife had people propping my dead appendages and posing me on hands and knees. And then sitting almost straight up. And then on my side. And then sitting again. And there were all of a sudden five nurses and three midwives hovering around and an OB loitering in the doorway waiting to rush me to an emergency C-section and my midwife started saying things like "at this point, your and the baby's safety are the most important things." And I had to respond that I was down with whatever it took. I was so scared that I was going to have to have surgery and just kept telling Jesus that Baby and I were in His hands.

With the dips in Bidou's heart rate, they stopped the pitocin. Luckily, my body took things over on its own albeit a bit more slowly.

I was still not fully effaced or dilated, but my midwife decided that we should try pushing to see if that would get Bidou down into the birth canal. So a few pushes later, things were progressing again rather quickly. At this point, I started experiencing not only that "fullness" (guh) but also a great deal of pain. My midwife was coaching me through some pushes, and I had to say "You don't have to tell me! I KNOW I'm contracting!" I started to feel my legs again and just. Wow. The pain. The burning. The nurse told me to push the button for more epidural medicine, but honestly I was so relieved that my legs weren't uncomfortable anymore I felt like I could handle the pain!

And thank goodness it wasn't much longer. About an hour later, and fifteen short minutes of pushing, we met our son at 11:40pm. With his umbilical cord wrapped snugly around his neck. And around his torso. And around his legs. No wonder the poor thing had such a hard time descending into the birth canal, he had no lead on his leash! And he was perfect! My midwife untangled him as he came out and put him on my chest. And he and the Bubba and I stared at each other in wonder.

Everyone let us have him to ourselves for almost three hours before they weighed and measured him. And we whispered his name in his ear. And we held our heads close together and breathed in the air of our new, bigger-by-one family. John Ignatius. He's ours. A life. A miracle.

As the nurses were cleaning up, one lifted up a tube and looked at it curiously. It was a length of my epidural hookup. In the scary mayhem, one of the nurses must have knocked it out. And thusly the mystery of why I felt so much pain was resolved. (I will spare you all the little stories of the Midwife From Another Hospital who was filling in and was my nurse that day even though she thought she should be running the show instead of my midwife who was AWESOME. I was calling her Nurse Rached out of earshot - she thought she was being helpful but kept dropping the ball and being unreasonable and doing stupid things like unplugging my stupid epidural! ANYWAY!)

(Also in hindsight, the false labor I experienced would probably have progressed to active labor if John hadn't been so tied up in his cord! So thank goodness for the NST.)

And so at almost midnight on the 12th of April, we met John Ignatius. He weighed eight pounds, eleven ounces and is twenty-two inches of perfection. His apgars were all nines and awesome and they let us go home Wednesday evening to join Lucy and start our family-of-four-ing.

"What does he do?"

All kinds of love.

Reading Baby Jack a story

Three was awesome.

Four is incredible.

Crash

2011-04-17T09:33:00.001-07:00

My hard drive crashed. But I learned my lesson from last time and we have backup.

I will update this soon with photos and newsy news. Sorry to leave y'all hanging.

Friday Photos: Distractions

2011-04-08T07:54:00.001-07:00

We are trying to keep ourselves occupied around here with

lots of walks - rain or shine

lots of books

a cardboard playhouse, of course

it's worth at least its weight in gold

activities like April Fool's Day "sushi"

lots of meals with multiple intricate steps.

Even for breakfast.

Clearly Lucy doesn't mind any of this.

Woe is Me

2011-04-06T19:17:00.000-07:00

I'm frustrated. And sad.

I had a midwife appointment today and I was expecting ... I don't know what I was expecting. Good news? Validation? Proof that things are moving along? I got nothing. I'm still only a centimeter dilated and my cervix is still about 2 centimeters long. But it's soft! She tried to reassure me. That doesn't make me feel better!

Do you know what this means? This means that not one little thing has changed since last week. All of this false labor bull crap, all of these stabbing pains in my cervix, they are doing NOTHING. No progress. It's just adding injury to insult. Not only is my body not progressing, but I'm going through all the pains that should indicate that it IS! LUCKY ME!

I want to kick everyone right in the junk who ever told me that second babies come early or that the second time around the body knows just what do to. Evidently my body missed that memo. All it knows how to do is gestate For.Ev.Er.

So now I have an appointment in a few days for a non-stress test and an ultrasound to check for low amniotic fluid since that's why Lucy was induced. Boo.

Chances are I'll have to be induced again. I shouldn't feel so bad about it, I know, but I feel like I'm failing. Like my body is failing. It should KNOW, right? It should DO this. This baby is big! He's fully cooked! C'mon guys! Let's eject!

Lord knows, I am fully aware of how incredibly blessed and lucky I am that this baby is healthy and growing, that he's fully developed and strong, that we never had to deal with prematurity issues. But that doesn't mean I'm not sad that I can't get the little freeloader OUT.

I want so badly for my body to do this on it's own. I want to be able to labor at home. I want to be able to do this in tete-a-tete with my Bubba instead of hooked up to machines in a hospital.

I know in my HEAD that the best case scenario is whichever one ends in a healthy baby and low risk for both of us, but my HORMONES tell me that I'm really sad and disappointed about all of this. And, well, we all know which of those is running the show.

Pregnancy Brainless

2011-04-04T14:52:00.001-07:00

"Pregnancy Brain" - that phenomenon of rampant distracted stupidity that we can blame on the fetus for 9 months of our lives - do you think it gets WORSE the further past the due date one gets?

Oh, do I have a story for you today.

We spent the morning walking around at the zoo and then had a huge burger and fry and chocolate shake lunch afterward at a little burger joint in Ballard. Hoping for labor! Come on, Bidou! (No luck.)

Then we stopped by the library because I had a book (Birthing From Within - it took a while on the hold list before I got it, and I figured ah, what the hey, I can still thumb through it while this baby FREELOADS FOR ANOTHER FRAKKING DAY!) (ahem.) on hold waiting for me. I went in and left Lucy and the Llama in the car. I started reading part of the book while I was waiting to check out and got all Thinky about it.

So I'm in a very Thinky state of mind as I go out the door and almost run into an old due trying to enter the library. And I'm in a very Thinky state as I go to the driver's side car door of my blue Toyota. And I'm in a very Thinky state as I lift the handle of the driver's side car door. And the car door is locked! That's weird! I left it unlocked with Grandma and Lu in there! And the car behind beeped it's horn! What are they honking at for the love?!

So, shocked from my Thinky state, I realized that I WAS TRYING TO GET INTO A CAR THAT WAS NOT MINE AND IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT OF WHICH WAS SITTING A (VERY CONFUSED/FRIGHTENED) WOMAN. And the car beeping it's horn? Ah yes. My car. With my Llama honking hoping to help me to avoid death by embarrassment.

Futilely.

To Do

2011-04-02T08:30:00.001-07:00

Growing and Growing

2011-03-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

Grandma is a book reading fool. Lucy is as happy as you might imagine given that little datum. I have actually missed my little troublemaker for the last week while Grandma's been entertaining her. I don't have her constantly in my space! Asking what I'm doing! Asking to be carried! Wanting to be exactly where I am!

I've started getting emotional about Lucy not being my ONLY anymore. My BEHBEH! She's such a good girl and she won't ever be my only Snuggle Bug ever again. Sniiiiiiiff.

But! She's growing so fast and getting so big. She's been waking up dry from naps lately. I think the running total is 7 out of the last 11 days.

And!

GET THIS!

SHE STOPPED BITING HER FINGERNAILS.

I don't think I've talked about it much here mostly because I've been trying to follow doctor's orders and ignore, ignore, ignore. Oh, but it's been so hard. Her poor fingers have been raw little red nubs for almost the last year. It was never a nervous habit, just a relaxing one. She would gnaw while she watched TV or when she was getting settled for sleep. The pediatrician equated it to thumb sucking and told me to try to distract her fingers with beads or some such thing when it was getting particularly bad, and otherwise just to ignore it and she'd give it up when she's ready.

I'd like to think I've been totally laid back about the whole situation, but (HA!) there's no way. I stressed about it from day one. I worried about germs. I worried about infection. I worried about gross fingernail buildup in her tummy. I worried about nibbling being a brain-cell burning gateway to OTHER bad habits. Booger eating! Glue tasting! Toddler delinquency!

The germ phobia was the worst part this winter. I was super vigilant about antibiotic-ing her hands every 20-30 seconds at the Children's Museum or the Zoo, after church and intermittently at the grocery store. With those tiny fingers always in her mouth, I was sure she was going to contract Mono-sars-swine-osis or whatever death warrant was being passed at the moment.

And now! All of a sudden! Almost a year later, she doesn't bite her nails anymore. Just like that. And I'm in a state of relieved awe. That's not to say I don't half expect another flare up just as soon as Second Baby shows his face around here. The prospect doesn't fill me with joy, but at least I know it won't actually lead to masochism and eventual juvie time.

I'm just so relieved that this phase has passed with the worst thing being a tiny little infected hangnail. And I painted those precious new little nubs of nail growth pink on my big grownup girl and it seems she's just as happy about it as I am.

This Week, I Tell Ya..

2011-03-18T14:07:00.000-07:00

This has been such a long week. I mean, it's finally Friday, which is good, right? But I feel like it should have been Friday at least a few days ago. This week I've been pulling activities out of my heinie to keep us busy and going somewhere other than crazy.

My last day at work was Monday. It was bittersweet. I mean, I'm excited to have this baby and start fresh with students in the fall, but it also means I'm doing even more thumb twiddling until the baby comes. But it really is a blessing because the Bubba's work schedule isn't any different, and I know that you're probably sick to death of me talking about it but dude! 60-70 hour weeks! It's exhausting for everyone involved! And now that my work schedule is nonexistent, he can concentrate fully on meeting his deadline April 1 and I can work on keeping us all nutritiously fed and somewhat sane.

I had a midwife visit Wednesday at 37w3d. They still don't want to see me every week yet. And I'm still blown away at how laid back they are there. I think this was the sixth time I've gone into the office for a regular checkup. 6! In 9 months! And this was the group B strep test week, so I thought, Ah! The beginning of the poking checkups. Joy! But my midwife let me take the samples myself. It was so much more awesome than having to undress and get poked.

Bidou is leveling out in his growth - he was measuring about 38+ weeks, so no signs point to having a 12lb 30in baby. Which is nice. I go back and see them again at 39+ weeks "Unless you have the baby by then!" See? Laid back.

My weight gain has been weird, though. I mean, I've gained a lot more than I wanted to this time around (knowing how frakking hard it was to get off the first time around!) but I don't know where the weight is going - I still fit in my pre-pregnancy jeans (not that they're particularly COMFORTABLE because of the waistband/belly interference, but, just sayin' my hips/butt are the same size), and Bidou's not huge... when this baby comes out, am I going to look like a marshmallow on a couple of toothpicks? To be determined. I'll be sure to let you know first thing.

The past few days we've had a leeeeettttlee bit of sun, so Lucy and I have been taking advantage by working in the yard. I've weeded a lot. Our little garden patches are almost ready for the sprouts that Lucy's growing in our window sill. We've got bush peas and zucchini and butternut squash and bell peppers starting right now. And a variety of flowers. I'm pretty sure she'll be excited to put them in the ground. Yesterday we dug up several worms and bugs, and Lucy went from being fascinated to scared and back with every new one. I let her get filthy and dig with sticks and tromp around the yard in rain boots and she's been in heaven. Hooray for glimpses of Spring!

Tomorrow I have a churchy thing to help facilitate all day - the Catherine of Sienna Called and Gifted program. It's really cool, actually, and I'm happy to be a part of it. It's just that anything at this point that is "all day" sounds awfully intimidating. Especially since a quick trip to Target for cleaning supplies and toilet paper is enough to leave me begging for a nap.

Speaking of naps! My mama-llama comes on Monday to help/entertain us! So this weekend will be full of Getting Stuff Done. Oh, I've been consistently knocking stuff off our Baby List, you'll be happy to know. Really, the stuff that's left is stuff that can be left. Go me! I did leave the pampering part - because a fancy-pants mani-pedi spa day is first on the list for me and the Llama to do when she gets here. And Lucy's convinced that "Gram wants to hug and kiss me. But she'll read me lotsnlotsa books!" So that works out for her (Even though I'm sure she's trying to figure out a way to sidestep the first part - Lu is not a cuddler.). So, everybody wins!

Now, just to make it to Monday...

Friday Photos

2011-03-11T10:59:00.000-08:00

Learning the particulars of tree climbing...

Playing with Photo Booth

Almost There

2011-03-10T12:03:00.000-08:00

A couple more weeks!

36 weeks 3 days.

I retired the striped shirt.

It just couldn't stretch any further.

My "nesting" has been mostly insatiable shopping for things that baby "needs." You know, like an Easter outfit. And a fuzzy blanket. And just the right warm socks. I'm trying really hard to keep the immanent hospital bills in mind when I want to buy something, but geez, this kid really needs a pair of khakis in 0-3 month size to match his big sissy's Easter dress!

Otherwise, not much else is new on the baby front. The days slip by and every so often I'll have an OMG THIS BABY IS GOING TO BE HERE SOON moment, but mostly I forget about it in terms of baby because I'm so focused on what it means in terms of fatigue and its impact on Lucy care. Ah, the Second Child Shaft. Sorry Bidou.

Oh, and guess what? I think we might have a name. Maybe.

My mama is coming in a little over a week. I'm excited to have her around both for Lucy's sake and for my own! Just think of all the naps I'll take! Mmmmm.

My next midwife appointment is next week, and then I think I start seeing her every week. The point where things start getting serious for me. This baby is a'comin'!

April's Coming. Time to Procrastinate.

2011-03-03T11:15:00.002-08:00

So it's March. Many of you have probably already noticed. For the rest of you, you're welcome for the update. I know that's what you come here for.

This morning I showered and put on makeup and did my hair and put on a cute (if there is such a thing when you're 8+ months pregnant) outfit for the sole reason of organizing and preparing our taxes. You got to have the right mind set, you know? And yet, here I am writing on my blog only to procrastinate looking at these dull documents and putting them all in order and filling in the right numbers on the right lines.

Normally, I like doing our taxes. I like figuring it all out and looking for secret breaks and credits that nobody wants to tell you about. I feel an enormous sense of accomplishment when I finish them. It's the wannabe math major in me (Did I tell you that I started college as a math major? True story.). But this year? Meh. And it's even easy this year. Straight forward. Both the Bubba and I only have one W-2 each! And simple charity credits! And simple student loan credits! Easy peasy. And yet. Here I sit telling you about it instead of doing it.

What else can I tell you about since I'm wasting time? Update post!!

Lucy's been better behaved lately. There had been quite a bit of TV watching going on around here just so that I could either a) rest or b) get things done around here. It started with a 1/2 hour show right away in the morning so that I could shower and get dressed. Well, as an experiment this week, I cut out the TV entirely, well, all electronic stuff for her (including Skyping with Grandma in the morning) and the new Nook that she loves and calls "my nookbook." And all of a sudden her imaginative play is fun again and when I'm getting stuff done, she plays independently. It's not very useful when I need a rest, but usually if I lay down on HER bed in HER room she will deign to do puzzles quietly while I catch 40 winks. She doesn't seem to expect to be entertained and have attention on her all the time. (Thank you Baby Jesus.) And, it helps that the Bubba is not traveling this week and our routine is somewhat back to "normal" whatever that means anymore.

I did indeed gain 90 pounds in 4 weeks like I warned you last week. And my midwife did indeed have a little something to say about it. But I told her that I would have gained at least a fiver even if I WEREN'T pregnant because of what a hard month it was. Ah well. She said she wasn't too worried about it because I gained a lot with Lucy too and it all came off. And that's when I fell in love again. I love my midwives.

Otherwise, the Second Child is doing well. There's not a whole lotta room in there for him any more, so it seems like he strikes out in Crouching Dragon slow motion instead of the quick one-two combos he used to lay on me. It stretches and distorts my belly and is basically uncomfortable and weird. My innie belly button is now outie, something that didn't happen last time. I have to believe that some of this is because I'm smaller this time around. Or maybe it's just new and weird because I'm carrying this baby straight out from my spine and not all over my whole midsection like I did with the Bird. Either way, Bidou started rocking out one evening when I was working and it was totally obvious under my patterned shirt. My student saw the alien movements right away and needless to say this poor 13 year old boy was completely creeped out and is probably still trying to wipe the image from his brain. Poor kid, had so much time before reality like that should hit.

We have a tour of the birth center scheduled for this Saturday morning. The Bubba seems to think that Lucy can come with us. I'm imagining that I will be doing the tour alone after 5 minutes when the Bubba and Lucy have to excuse themselves. Whatever. All I need to know is what doors are accessible when and where to find the L&D triage room. I don't know why they schedule these things for an hour. Nothing like making 8- and 9- month pregnant ladies stand around on swollen feet for an hour.

Our baby list is getting whittled down. Slowly but surely. It feels good to see some things crossed off. More things I don't have to worry about. Fourish weeks. It's so weird to think that in one little day Lucy isn't going to be my ONLY anymore (sniff!!) and that we're going to be a family of four. It really stretches my brain.

Speaking of brain-stretching, I think I've exhausted the minutiae of our ever exciting lives, so here I go back to staring at these numbers. Taxes, ho!

Wednesday Already?

2011-02-23T11:02:00.001-08:00

This week is going super fast. Which is a very nice thing since it's a challenging one. But then again, the busier you make yourself the faster the time flies, no?

Lucy slept in my bed last night because of bad dreams. She woke up crying and ranting something incomprehensible about "THE OTHER ONE!" or "ANOTHER ONE!" or some such thing. And she wouldn't settle down until I laid down with her. But her little single bed isn't the most conducive to comfort for an 8 month pregnant lady. So I brought her into the big bed, and it took forever to convince her to sleep, and then *I* of course didn't sleep. We're in a very gingerly choreographed holding pattern to insure that no one gets irrevocably damaged today.

I have a midwife appointment tomorrow morning and I'm fully expecting her to be all "You gained 90 pounds in the past 4 weeks?!" And for me to hang my head in shame. Because I've been fueled almost exclusively by discount valentine's candy, baked goods, and cheese while I try to make it through some of these more stressful weeks. Ah, stress eating.

On a happier note, Saturday we had a rare day of the Bubba not having to work all the waking hours. So we took a walk down to the park.

How cute is this little gem of a picture? I just love it.

Bidou List

2011-02-22T08:59:00.001-08:00

[Lucy is reading a book to herself (gasp!) so I have 10 minutes with my laptop and a cup of coffee. Bliss!]

So. Here's the thing. I have like five and a half weeks to go until Bidou's approximated arrival. And I'm not ready. I read A'Dell's list the other day and got all Panicky! I need a list! I have things I need to do to! Things aren't getting done! I have NOTHING! NOT REAAADDDYYYY!

And then I slapped myself, took a deep breath and made my own list:

~~Look for a small rocker or glider to replace huge leather chair in our bedroom.~~ (Just purchased last weekend!)
Assemble bassinet and make sure it fits in our bedroom
Purchase e-reader for breast-feeding entertainment
~~Purchase infant car seat~~! (procured yesterday) (whew!)
Install infant car seat!
Purchase sit n stand stroller (I'm pretty sure Lucy will deign to ride in this one)
Price/reasearch a double jogger (I'm so looking forward to running again! And I think Craigslist will come through for me if I'm patient...)
Pick out "coming home" outfit for our little man
Figure out registration for pre-school for Lucy. (Registration at the school I'm looking at is 5 days before my due date!)
~~Send in hospital pre-registration~~ (just faxed it this morning!)
Pack hospital bag
Fill out (midwife-required) birth plan form (Birth plan: I go with the flow, yo.)
Pack hospital bag
Buy more cloth diapers (that aren't pink!)
Decide the Bubba's vacation/at home time (to be reassessed closer to the due date as things *HOPEFULLY* quiet down a little for him at work)
Start freezing some dinners/compiling crock pot dinner recipes
Stock up on random newborn stuff like diapers and pacifiers.
Decide whether we need to put up the changing table or not (right now I'm thinking not)
Sort through Lucy's toys and organize her closet (the kids will eventually share a room!)
Get a mani-pedi
Finish knitting dinosaur sweater FLOG (that I started 3 months ago when we found out this is a boy)
Think about birth announcements
PICK A NAME FOR THIS POOR CHILD
Review birthing materials, pain management, infant CPR, etc.
~~Buy bedding for our extra bedroom (where my mommy will be staying!)~~

So, there are still a couple of things that need to be taken care of. But the nice thing is that mostly it's just putter-y getting ready stuff and not OMG I DON'T HAVE A BABY SEAT WHAT IF I GO INTO LABOR TOMORROW kind of stuff.

But. Stuff still needs to get done.

Especially number 23.

Our Lives

2011-02-21T07:56:00.000-08:00

I've told you our lives are crazy right now.

Here's some illustration:

Saturday someone asked my Bubba how work was going and he said, "Basically, it's kicking my ass and destroying our family." (Half kidding, of course. I've been complaining that even when he's home he's never present - always working on shop drawings at the table and doing his best to completely tune out his girls.)

Yesterday when we were getting ready for bed, I jokingly asked, "Hey! Tomorrow's President's Day! Do you get the day off?" And then we both belly laughed for a good five minutes.

The End.

Someday when I have a spare moment I'd like to write some thoughts on spacing our babies, what I'm starting to feel about becoming a family of four, and things we've been doing around here to prepare for Bidou (WHO STILL REMAINS NAMELESS FLOG - Maybe I'll have to do a Name That Baby post!). But that'll have to wait until I figure out how to get this two-year-old to raise herself so that I have time to do things like write...

Two and a HALF!

2011-02-08T12:34:00.000-08:00

We put Lucy down for naps and nighttime in diapers. She can't make it through dry (although at this point she could probably do nap time dry, but she's too LAZY to get up quick enough to pee in the potty when she wakes up. LAZY.). Anyway, lately at night, she will piddle juuuuust the teeniest bit that she can squeeze into her diaper and then holler "I'VE GOT A WET DIAPER!" until we come and get her a new one. I've seriously been wracking my brain for ways to get her out of this super annoying habit. Well, the other night, she's screaming for a clean diaper, and I went into her room and said something MEAN like "Too bad, you're supposed to tell me when you have to go pee pee on the potty and your diaper should stay dry and now you have to sleep in it." and she was sad for a couple minutes, but then she quieted down and I assumed she fell asleep.

Here's you waiting for the punch line, right? Well, here it comes. half an hour later, she hollered for me quite plaintively saying she needs help... I go in and find that she had taken matters into her own hands - she took her jammies and (slightly piddled in) diaper off and was in the bed naked. Her next play was to piddle just enough in the bed so that I had to change all the sheets and wash all of her babies besides.

Joke's on me. Again.

Oh to be outsmarted by a two year old.

Two-and-a-HALF now, thankyouverymuch!

To celebrate her unbirthday, we went and got the girl a much needed haircut.

Before:After:

She's getting so big so fast.

What's Going On

2011-02-03T12:10:00.000-08:00

I really don't have much to blog about; life is just life right now and we're living it and that's it.

The Bubba has been making lots of business trips and has otherwise been very busy with work. I think he said he logged 130-some hours on his last 2-week time sheet (without blinking one guy he works with chimed in, "I logged 155!"). Needless to say, there's a whole lot of calculations burning their way through those brains, and Lucy and I have been in straight-up survival mode.

This week's business trip was cancelled kind of spur of the moment, and I'm considering it a miracle straight from Heaven because the day or two after I was struck down with some sort of food poisoning/stomach virus that totally incapacitated me. I've never experienced such a thing at 31weeks pregnant, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. In fact, I found myself praying some of the same words I prayed when I was in labor - something like "I'm not asking You to take this away, but please give me the strength and grace to live through it!" There were contractions, and calls to the midwife, and I was scared we'd end up in the hospital for IV fluids, but things started righting themselves *enough* in my time frame to be able to avoid it. I didn't want to have to add that ordeal to the misery...

And of course I was sick and made us stay inside on the sunniest days we've had so far this year. We did make it to the park yesterday, but everyone and their nanny was there trying to soak up the last rays before another forecasted week of rain. I think I came home more tired out than Lucy did. Everyone assumes that Lucy's older than she is because she's so tall or so verbal, and it makes it hard when I have to constantly referee with her and other kids whose moms think she's a four year old like their kid and should be able to handle whatever situation is going on. Even I have to remind myself every so often: even if it seems like she gets something, she's not even TWO AND A HALF YET (in a couple more days, I can FINALLY say she's two-and-a-half)!

Um, and all of a sudden I'm 7 months pregnant?! How did that happen? Well, not the pregnancy of course ... the Time Warp, I mean? I feel like I was saying "I'm 5 months pregnant" yesterday. I lost month 6 somewhere. In all the surviving, I guess.

Welp, that's the news from these parts. It's about time for my nap.

I'll be sure to keep you updated with other scintillating details of my life as they come up.

Precocious

2011-01-27T15:30:00.000-08:00

(At my commission meeting last night that I had to bring Lucy to)

Our parish priest: "I'm so glad you're here! Our secretary is leaving! Maybe you can write things down for us?"

Lucy (very proudly): "I brought my MARKERS"

(At same meeting)

Lady: My name is Cathy.

Lucy: Oh! Okay! Nice to MEET you!

(On the phone)

Grandma: Hand the phone to your Mommy.

Lucy: No. It's NOT Mommy's turn. Mommy doesn't get a turn right now.

(Cuddled in my bed with me after naps)

Lucy: Mmmm. I love you Mommy. You're a good, happy Mommy. *pause to give me a sweet hug and two kisses* Hey! I know! Let's go get some ice cream!

(At the library)

Lucy: Sometimes there are not good books and sometimes there are good books. I like the good ones best. They're better for reading and looking at.

My baby. She's not even two and a half yet -- two and a half going on twenty.

32

2011-01-13T11:34:00.000-08:00

I have a wonderful husband.

He's a hard worker, and a fixer. He's a thinker and a learner. He's a do-er, not a sitter.

He's spent the last 32 years perfecting his endearing balance of nerdy introvert and caring friend.

He's spent the last five years, six months and eleven days doing his part to make our family really awesome.

I couldn't ask for a better friend, partner, baby-daddy.

We sure are lucky you were born, my Love. You make everything nicer.

Happy birthday to you.

Isn't It Time For Some Whine?

2011-01-12T17:54:00.001-08:00

I've been awfully tired lately. I just marked it up to third trimester fatigue. But then, I was finding it hard to wake up after having slept for nine hours. And then needing a nap. And then being ready for bed at 8 PM again. So I thought, "Hmmm. Is this a bit extreme?"

It turns out it was. My blood tests came back showing that I'm anemic. I'm kind of relieved. I mean, it's not necessarily *my* fault that I've been a tired, crabby bear for the past week or two. I haven't figured out a way to explain that to Lucy just yet, but at least I've got science on my side. (As a side note, she drew portraits of me and my friend today and I'll let you guess who had a happy smile and who was frowning in the picture...)

So now I'm taking like seven thousand and eighty-two various vitamins every day. I've only been on vamped up iron for the past two days, so I'm not feeling better yet. I just have to push through. Dear LORD, it's hard being constantly exhausted. My house has suffered. My daughter has suffered. My Bubba - well, he's been working too much to notice any neglect from me...

I'll add that it was a very inconvenient time for the Bubba to have a business trip this week. And this the first of many, many, MANY more trips - like WEEKLY - to come between now and Bidou. The on-site dude asked him to stay another day. I clenched my teeth when he phoned and asked, "And what did you say?" The Bubba did the right thing and turned him down. (But for the wrong reason: that his birthday is tomorrow. I don't care how he chooses to spend his birthday. Meetings? Have attem, Bubba! Exhausted, pregnant, anemic wife with an energetic toddler whose super power is to destroy everything in sight in an extraordinary short period of time? THERE'S a reason!)

Basically I've been sucking at everything but sleeping lately. Which has been as awesome as you can imagine.

The End.

Looking the Part

2011-01-09T20:45:00.000-08:00

A lady applauded me yesterday.

That's something for which I might be very proud. Except that she clapped and cheered because I was able to get up (rather gracefully I might say) from a crouching position in the vitamin aisle at Target. Says the lady "Wow! I'm surprised you can still do that!"

Proof positive! I've officially made it! I've made it to the part of pregnancy where total strangers are all of a sudden driven by some irresistible force to comment whether it be helpful or rude. The "Wow, that's a big baby," and the "You're a butterball!" But even the weirdness of people who fell compelled to talk to my STOMACH and maybe ask it questions like if it's being good to its mommy or if its mommy is singing to it (or READING IT THE BIBLE BECAUSE THE BABY CAN HEAR YOU ALREADY, YOU KNOW!). I smile politely. I make a kind comment. I walk away. I want to say "OMG, PLEASE STOP BEING SO WEIRD."

Another (older) lady, this time at Banana today while I was looking for a birthday present for the Bubba in the after-holiday super sales, said "It's funny that the styles today are all about tight-fitting clothes. Even for people like you!" while gesturing at my mid-section. I was wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt. Way to make me feel like I was dressed like a hussy in skin-tight clothes, lady! I mean, really, we've come a fair way in maternity fashion from the muumuus that this lady might have had to wear if she had kids. And I say thank goodness! There's nothing cuter than skinny little legs sticking out from under a beach ball belly, amiright?

(And if I'm not, keep it to yourself, mmmmkay, because I like my delusion.)

Oh people. Why does pregnancy always become an "All Play" sort of game?

Friday Photos: Winter Organizing

2011-01-07T11:21:00.000-08:00

The week between Christmas and New Year was great. It was so nice to have the Bubba home, and we sat down together and made a huge list of Things To Get Done Around the House. I mean really, we've only lived here for 3 months, right? Why would we be organized? I just get pregnant-er and pregnant-er, and the Bubba gets busier and busier at work now that he's a Senior Engineer (YAY! Go, Bubba!).

So! Photographic evidence of what we've done around here lately:

Living room!

We finally moved that huge TV cabinet and put matching shelving in the corner of the living room. Despite the mish-mash of interesting things Lucy can reach and reorganize on those shelves, I love this.

Kitchen!

Merry Christmas to us - we splurged on a cool bar table/set for our breakfast nook. It's so nice to have a place to sit in the kitchen now. And enjoy that cool little bay window where I put most of our greenery.

Lucy's Room!

Well, we (and by "we" I mean my handy Bubba) finally got around to putting up some curtains for Birdie instead my "creative" placement of blankets and whatnot before to make it dark enough for naps and covered enough for privacy in there. I also pulled the trigger on some bedding. I went with the monkeys - not because they were my favorite, but because I knew Birdie would like them best. And, oh, she does. She is so happy to cuddle in her "Monkey blankies!"

Extra bedroom!

It now has a BED! The futon is still in that room just in case, and I might eventually move it into the main part of the of the basement (which is a big, open playroom) for me and Baby Brother to lounge on while Lucy rides laps on her trike this spring. And this is where the TV cabinet ended up too. I figure it will do in place of a chest of drawers.

Master bedroom!

Nothing new in here, just reorganizing. It is now my favorite room in the house because it's all shiny clean and everything's in it's place. I guess you can't see in the pics, but the chair is right by the big window, and the bassinet/baby sleeper thingie will go where my nightstand currently is. The chair is my new favorite place to sit and read if I have a moment while Lucy naps.

After a hard day's work of being the model for all the pictures, Lucy helped me make chocolate crispy treats. I'll give you one guess as to who got to lick the spoon...

On The Sixth Day Of Christmas...

2010-12-30T20:53:00.000-08:00

...my Bubba is doing the dishes that won't fit in the dishwasher.

This is an undertaking of epic proportions.

We bought a portable dishwasher for our apartment for our first anniversary, and we like joke that it was one of the things that saved our marriage (that first bit of married life was a hard bit for us - we had never lived in the same city/state/country before getting married!) (That makes us sound like a mail-order couple or something. We just lived far apart.). You see, we had this agreement that I would cook dinner and he would do the dishes after. Ideal, if you ask me. I love cooking, and I hate the soaking scraping wiping aftermath. But. The Bubba is an engineer of the very first anal-retentivest nature. He starts the dishes by sorting. Each dish will be lined up according to color and then size and then shape and then amount of washing attention needed. And only then will the washing begin. Oh and the stacking/drying process! Whole 'nother bag.

Not that I'm complaining. I'm so totally okay with the fact that he has a different way of doing things. It just means that I won't see him until 10pm. And it doesn't mean I can't make fun, right? Because really, without taking the piss, where would marriages be, I ask you.

Next time I'll tell you about how he alphabetizes the garbage.

(Can you tell that the Bubba's on furlough this week? We've been spending lots of quality time together.)

We took the Christmas tree down this week and most of the decorations. We left up the little artificial tree for the Epiphany. I think I'll do a king's cake with Lucy this year. Although, every year I say I want to do a king's cake just like every year I want to throw a beaujolais nouveau party and it is never done. I have found in my vast experience with myself that I am fabulous at coming up with fun ideas and just very very poor at finding the motivation to execute them. Lazy.

I saw the midwife today. It was glucose test week, that most looked-forward to of all weeks. Mmmm, delicious. The midwives in my practice must have all been on vacation this week because the office was echoey-empty and the only midwife there was one I hadn't met before and didn't particularly, um, love. But whatever. I don't have to take her home to live with me, right? She was very smart and efficient. She was not a good listener, though. The whole time I kept wondering if I was maybe the only patient in all day because she seemed to just be waiting for her turn to talk the whole time (and not about my baby. About Christmas with her granddaughter including every gift she bought and why.). She didn't even bother with the frivolity of introducing herself when she came in. It was just weird because all the other midwives in the practice are basically on my running list of acceptable sister-wives.

My weight gain in the last six weeks surprised me. After being so focused on the numbers on the scale going down after Lucy's birth, it's so hard to be excited about them creeping (or in my case jumping) up. But this midwife did win points by telling me that Bidou seems to be a big baby, and since I came to the appointment with my pre-pregnancy jeans on with a hair band through the button hole, she said not to worry too much about it and just to be sure I was eating smart. (So I came home and ate fatty-fat-fat-sausage stuffing and Christmas candy to celebrate, of course.)

Bidou's heartbeat was at 148, and he's measuring "at least" two weeks big. I explained to the midwife that I have a long, skinny husband, and all the evidence I have heretofore collected says that we make long, skinny babies.

That reminds me. Bidou does this thing lately where he will curl up in only one side of my tummy. My stomach will have a huge right side and then a hollow little slope down the left side and then he'll do this roll-jump thing to take up his whole space again. It's like he's practicing his hunker-spring Crouching Dragon moves. Super weird. That and this kick-punch-punch thing he does I find really exciting. It's like he's a little human in there or something.

We shall see! Sooner rather than later, too. I start seeing the midwives every 4 weeks now that I'm starting my third trimester!

Dun dun duuuuuuuun. The end is near. And yet. So. Very. Far.

We're to the very complainy part of pregnancy. The part where I get heartburn from just looking at food. The part where I'm finding it increasingly hard to fall asleep at night and then sleep through the night. Oh, and my stomach and small intestine and such that's all smashing up into my ribcage gives me the worst crampy, charley-horsey feelings in my left ribs after I eat and/or when I'm lying on my left side. The lower back aches and the sacrum aches and the shooting pains that go from the lower back down the butt cheeks to the knees. All of those nice things.

And on that note, I bid you goodnight. It's almost 9pm after all. I've got my eye on my jammies and bed and my book (The City and The City by Mieville. Anyone reading that? It's really a trip.).

So That Was Christmas...

2010-12-28T08:18:00.000-08:00

I have been seriously lacking in the blogging inspiration department. I think this little boy fetus started living off of my brain cells and the two that I have left to rub together just don't make any sparks. He better be wicked smaht, this kid.

He better have a huge 'fro of hair too, because I've had really bad heartburn already and I have three more months to go. This kid might get more "Do you realize what you put me through?" lectures than Lucy ever does. Start pitying him now.

But! I digress. I sat down to tell you about our Christmas.

You're on tenterhooks, I know.

Bubba and Lucy's stockings and the mitten Advent calendar I made this year.

It was just the Bubba and Lucy and me for Christmas this year. And we're the adults in charge of "making" Christmas. Except we're lazy. There's something weird about Christmas when it doesn't feel very Christmassy. Obviously like we're missing something, but also a little bit like we're getting away with something. We don't have to do anything if we don't want to. It's a strange mixture of regret and freedom.

We did get a real tree this year! Smells so good!

The Bubba and I talked this year about what kind of traditions we should get it together enough to provide for Lucy. And pretty much we didn't come up with much this year. Good thing Lu doesn't care yet. But we did decide to be a "Christmas Eve Family," I think. His family read the Christmas story and opened gifts on the eve which left Christmas day to small stocking gifts, church, and big family meals. In my family, we opened gifts Christmas day and it was always a struggle with logistics of opening, church, meal, etc.

First present of the year, cutest pattern evah!

Lucy's version: "Roodaaaf the raindeeeer wif a reeeed nooose!"

in some ambiguous tune.

The Bubba had the 24th off work and after a hearty Bubba-made breakfast of egg nog waffles, we all retired to the living room to sit around the tree, us with our coffee, Lucy with her choo-choo trains. Since we had plans for that night, and since Lucy kept asking if it was "Christmastime yet" while predatorily eyeing the brightly wrapped gifts under the tree, we told her she could open one gift while we were sitting around sipping coffee and feeling full and merry. She was thrilled. She grabbed a gift and shook it saying "What IS it? It's a SURPRISE! FOR ME!" And jumped up and down. If I could bottle up that joy I wouldn't hesitate. It was so magical. I don't even remember what she opened first, but she played quietly with it for an hour or two and the Bubba and I tucked into our trashy vacation novels on the couch and everyone was happy.

Art supplies! SCORE!

After that hour or two, Lucy suggested "Can we open ANOTHUH pwesent? How 'bout THIS pwetty pwesent suhpwise for ME?" and we were soft with the contentment that sugary food and caffeine and a lazy morning reading can bring and acquiesced. And so the tone was set for our Christmas Eve day. Every few hours Lucy would pick a gift to open and then she would disappear to play with it. She had a blast, no one was overwhelmed, it was no less than ideal.

Christmas Eve evening, we went for dinner at some dear friends' and had a delicious meal of broiled mussels and braised beef ribs and carrots and potatoes and cappuccino cheesecake. Our friends have a daughter exactly a year younger than Lucy, so they had fun chasing and stealing toys from each other for a couple hours while we enjoyed our meal.

2010 party outfit of choice

We've obviously been talking a lot about Baby Jesus around here with Lucy and trying to explain in two-year-old terms what Christmas is. It's really something to witness her grappling with some great big concepts. The other day in the car, Lucy said, "Baby Jesus was born?" And we said "Yep, isn't that AWESOME? He came to show us how to love each other!" And she was quiet for a second and added "Baby Jesus is coming in the springtime?" And were said "Um, no, that's Baby Brother that's coming in the spring." Ah, the literal mind of a two-year old processing concepts that she can not see or fully grasp.

We went to 10 am Mass Christmas morning and were happy to see the addition of Baby Jesus to the manger scene. After that we were the laziest bumps on logs that you ever would hope to meet. Lucy and I took a nap and the Bubba read his book. After our snooze, we took care of the two gifts Lucy still had to unwrap under the tree that we hadn't gotten to yet.

Get this: WE DIDN'T EVEN MAKE A CHRISTMAS DINNER. I had a nice roasting chicken in the fridge and ingredients for our favorite stuffing, potatoes, green beans, broccoli, etc. But we had leftover this and that scrounging around in the fridge and cabinets for something to throw together. LAZY! We ended up with leftover mussels over pasta with a sauce of garlic and heavy cream. It was altogether delicious and took 20 minutes of our attention.

One can never have too much orange in one's wardrobe, don't you agree?

And that was our Christmas.

THE END.

(Now to wean the girl off of Christmas Carols...)

New Day

2010-12-13T12:14:00.000-08:00

Today we went to the zoo. I had sugar cookie batter chilled and cookie cutters at the ready, but then I looked out the window. It's warmish and sunny! A last minute change of plans, and we were watching the orangutan eating broccoli and kale for lunch.

Go me! Being Flexible and Fun Mom!

I let Lucy do whatever she wanted and take however long she wanted to take doing it. She picked up a stick and poked it in every hole and crevice in the whole zoo. She climbed up on some slimy wet wood fences to see the elephants. She knocked on the window of the meerkats. She got filthy. I chose not to care. Now she's in her bed humming Silent Night while she winds down for a snooze, which I find to be beyond precious.

I need more mornings like this.

And to think! It's a choice I make! Silly me, getting all caught up in the What I Want instead of the What I Need To Do. Some days I don't like my job. It's thankless. It's challenging physically and emotionally. A lot of times it's boring and repetitive and messy and frustrating. That makes me crabby. But! That's when I take for granted how lucky I am to have a kid who is growing and learning and how I get to be an integral part of that process every day. And when her (many, diverse) needs are met, she's actually pretty great.

I read this post today too. It's amazing. I'm going to try not raising my voice. Really try. The rest of Advent, I'm going to focus on choosing Joy. That means (among other things) making sure my job is done well. And that means making sure my girl's needs are my first priority instead of a crabby afterthought. It helps to have some focus.

We all work a little better like that.

Crabby Christmasy Smorgasbord

2010-12-08T15:14:00.000-08:00

Oh! Um, hi. It's been a while. I don't even know where to start, it's been so long.

I spent a week (or more, it may or may not be ongoing!) in a super crabby, emotional funk. Partly brought on by the stay-at-home weather, partly by the boundary-testing toddler, but mostly the combination of the two. I've been a little more tired lately at week 23+, and a little less agile. Pair that with a toddler who constantly dares me to react to her purposeful naughtiness just is a shit storm if you'll pardon my French.

Award winning parenting going on up in here, in other words.

Lucy is more of a challenge than she ever has been. I'll tell her one thing, and she'll look me in the eye and do the exact opposite. And then she'll either run away (because she knows I'm not as quick anymore!) or just stand there and face off with me. I'm running out of threatening faces. I think she might have spent most of the day in Time Out yesterday. Which also bites, because she SEEMS to get time out. She treats it right, she doesn't like it, she SEEMS to understand the lesson and straighten up afterward. But at the same time, it's like she doesn't CARE right now. Like Time Out is worth kicking her toy across the room or ripping the ornament off the tree or throwing Mama's perfume in the hamper. Sigh.

I just hate days that seem to jump from one form of discipline to another instead of enjoying whatever the day brings. I just really hope this phase passes quickly.

The only thing that seems to save both of our sanities is an Art Project. Ever since the Thankful Tree, Lucy asks to do an art project every single day. I'm totally ok with this. I'm all for it, actually, but after two weeks I'm kinda running thin on ideas! We did a gingerbread house,

made ornaments, colored countless pictures, decorated construction paper Christmas trees, made cookies, meticulously filled the Advent calendar, colored more pictures, made a hand-print wreath. I have learned that I was not really cut out for pre-school project-ing. The messes! Our dining table has been a repository for the random miscellany of these projects lately, and I am so tired I just shove it to one side and slide our chairs closer together to eat dinner at the other end.

In other news, I'm about done with the Christmas shopping! The godchildren are all taken care of, and so is Lucy's name exchange cousin. The Bubba already got his gift from me and Lucy - a new winter coat (he looks like a grown-up with appropriate winter attire!), and I have a couple things to slip into his stocking too.

Lucy, though, I don't know about. I have some little things to put in her stocking too, a little puzzle, some warm socks, beads to string on a necklace, bubble bath. But I can't pull the trigger on an actual gift for her. We wanted to get her a CD player for her play space so I wouldn't have to live through her playlist on the kitchen radio any more. But I can't find one that I like - slash - am willing to pay the price they're asking for it. I mean, I like this mp3 player, but... I don't know. So now I'm kinda wondering if we should just wait and not get her anything. Maybe pick up something in the after Christmas sales? But how can we not have a gift from Mommy and Daddy for my baby to open under the tree? (Truth is, she'll be happy as happy with the wrapped bottle of bubble bath as with anything else.) Whatever. She's naughty and I'm ambivalent. Obviously I need the Bubba to make this call.

(Do you have ideas for me? What are you buying for the 2 year olds in your life?)

And then me. You know, I loooove Christmas. I love twinkling lights and the hopeful anticipation of the season. I love thinking of the perfect gifts to wrap and then watching other people's joy in opening them. But I don't love getting presents. Like, at all. The Bubba keeps asking me what I want for Christmas, and the absolute truth is that I don't want a single thing. Weird, right? But I never know what I want to ask for, and the idea of a thing is always so much awesomer than the thing itself for me. Sure, I wouldn't mind having a stand mixer or some fancy softy-soft jammies or a new sewing machine. But really? I don't NEED those things, and that gives me Gift Guilt. And the guilt is worse than the happiness at having a new THING. Don't like.

Um anyway, I think I just put a damper on my already stupid crabby post. So maybe I should just hang up the keyboard now.

I'm contemplating going to the pool with Lucy tomorrow. So, you know, there's that. I'll just go ahead and try again tomorrow.

Snow Days

2010-11-24T14:09:00.001-08:00

Things we've been doing to combat Snopocolypse 2010 Cabin Fever:

1) We've been doing art projects:

The idea of the Thankful Tree has been making its way around my group of internet mommy friends, and I thought Lucy might be able to understand it a little bit. I figured it was at least worth a try. I needn't have worried. Lucy came up with a huge list of things that she's thankful for including:

Park

Trains

Daddy

Boats

(her friend) Frances

Songs

Mama

Chocolate cookies

Museum

Our family

Balloons

She had So. Much. Fun. coloring and cutting and pasting and listing and drawing and tracing. I was thinking it was a good 45 minute project. Lucy made it last almost twice that with her intricate tracing of all the letters I made and trying to cut leaves out with her zebra striped safety scissors.

When we hung it on the wall, the first thing she wanted to do was show grandma. And then the second thing she wanted to do was call daddy and ask him to come home and see this "beautiful, beautiful art project" and play with her. It seems she's growing out of the terrible part of the Twos a little bit and I'm loving this thoughtful, sweet, imaginative girl that's developing.

2) We've been braving the cold and playing in the snow!

If Lucy could just be outside poking things with a stick for the rest of her life, she'd die a happy girl.

Also, when the heck is the last time I had to scrape a walkway or driveway? I was living in the Midwest Tundra, I'm sure. Hard work, that. The mailman better be appreciative that he won't slip and break his neck on MY sidewalk.

Of all the snow in the yard, she found this little patch of snow and ice in our alleyway more interesting. I think maybe it had to do with the leaves frozen in a layer of ice. Either way, I was hopping from foot to foot impatient to get back in the warmth while she was obliviously involved with whatever exploring she was doing.

And to the explorer is sure to come new discoveries: her first taste of hot chocolate and marshmallows. As you can tell, she was thrilled in a WHY-have-you-never-given-me-this-BEFORE?! sort of way.

The snow should disappear tomorrow with 40 degree temps and some rain. As much of a pain it is to get snow in Seattle, I'm glad we took advantage of the winter-ness of it. It sure does feel like the holidays. Next up! Thanksgiving tomorrow with friends and a nice long weekend of relaxing. Heaven.

Things of Note

2010-11-22T11:52:00.000-08:00

1) Yesterday, the Bubba suggested spur-of-the-moment that we take a family photo on our front steps. 13 minutes later I was ordering our Christmas cards with that picture on it. It was that easy this year. Everyone was looking at the camera AND smiling, the background was normal, we looked like we were together... In short, the stars were aligned.

2) I had another midwife checkup today. Bidou's heart rate is in the 150s, I'm measuring at least a week big, but from the ultrasound and other measurements he seems to be a big, long baby. The midwife was very glad that I had done research on EIFs and didn't get stuck in freak-out mode (this is a different midwife from the one I had the original conversation with). She said she HATES telling people about them when everything else is normal because they are not an indication of anything. And she also said she's seen a lot of these in her time as a midwife. So that's encouraging too.

3) It's snowing. We beat Wisconsin for snowfall so far this year.

Lucy is in absolute awe. She'll say "There are SNOWFLAKES, Mommy! They're BLOWING! They're COLD on my hands!" And she spent a good part of the morning just putting her boot prints in the accumulation. It's so fun to see this through her eyes now that she can really understand and experience it this year. Plus it's starting to feel a whole lot more like the holidays are moments away with snow outside the window.

Those are about the only fun parts, though. Seattle drivers turn PSYCHO with the littlest hint of a snow cloud on the horizon. Plus, the roads are starting to get slushy-ish and it's supposed to get much colder, which doesn't bode well for a city with two (brand new! As of last Snowpocolypse!) salt trucks and a handful of plows. Needless to say, I got all my errands done early and will be riding out the rest of the day in front of my fireplace with a cup of tea and my toddler and a book. Hopefully the Bubba will be able to get home from work on some snow-routed bus...

This Time Around

2010-11-18T09:37:00.000-08:00

I've decided it would be much more convenient if the human gestational period was about 25 weeks. That sounds like just enough time to get adequately uncomfortable, and yet not really enough time to wish for sweet sweet Death the way I'm imagining I will for the entire third trimester.

I loved every second of being pregnant with Lucy. The first little whispers of movement, even the great big belly-morphing movements at the end. I was never sick with Lu, never felt more tired than I could handle, never really had much to complain about. I felt beautiful, radiant even. Oh, I complained. Don't get me wrong there. I just feel like I was so in awe of the whole process and so filled with joy with the prospect of starting a family that I secretly relished even the discomfort at the end. I wasn't too disappointed even when my due date came and went and I still had to wait. It was exciting anticipation.

This pregnancy is different. I was so sick. I was (am?) so tired. I have to take care of an energetic toddler while being sick and tired. And now I'm big enough that I'm starting to feel uncomfortable when I stand. Or sit. Or lay down with a frillion pillows. And I know I have so much longer to go! Bidou has filled out all the extra flabby tummy skin Lucy left behind, and my stretch marks are remembering their ginormous blossoming proportions and waking from their saggy naps. My belly button is even starting to feel weird with some of the innie creeping outie (this never happened with Lucy, but I'm about 20lbs lighter at this point, maybe that matters?). And then there are other weirdnesses that are new to me: the super dry skin, the melasma only on the left side of my forehead, the charley horse-like round ligament pain in my stomach as Bidou grows and grows.

But! I'm still loving the baby acrobatics. That part will never not be magical. I have a little human under my skin. A boy human! Who is trying to run and jump and play even though he doesn't know how.

I'm more comfortable with the idea of having a baby this time around. I can imagine how the spring will be and I can plan for taking care of an infant. I know how it works, now. I love this little baby fiercely already, like I didn't know was possible before Lucy. He is already the fourth equal part of my family.

It would just be so convenient for me if the required cooking time for a baby were just a wee bit shorter.

Other Things

2010-11-16T07:50:00.000-08:00

Thank all of you for your kind words for us. It feels a little like we're putting on a brave face, but really, we're choosing not to worry. As my mama reminded me, God never gives us more than we can handle - and he's never let me down yet. So there's that.

Is it too late to post pictures of Halloween? I'm going to pretend it wasn't over two weeks ago and that it's not too late. Especially because I'm pretty sure you need to see pics of a two-year-old Wookie.

Practicing her Wookie speak "Wrrrrraaaaaahhhh"

We taught her to say that instead of "Trick-or-Treat."

Two-year-olds can be so much fun like that.

Action shot - If only she had a blaster or a cross bow...

But no, she was just running through crunchy leaves.

The post-Trick-or-Treating comparing/eating of the booty!

I had a much easier time giving Lu a snack pack of fruit snacks

than a fun-sized Snickers. That said, Mama likes the Snickers.

Everybody wins. (Also, aren't JacknMollyMoo the CUTEST?)

Costume idea shamelessly stolen from my friend Shelby

who also swallowed a Jack-o-lantern this year.

(Side note: I can't believe that was only two weeks ago;

Bidou must have grown, because I'm pretty sure I'm twice that now.)

Oh, did I tell you that the Bubba was Princess Leia? No? That's because I DIDN'T GET A PICTURE OF IT. I made him a "hair" hat to wear, and I have to say it was quite amusing. Alas, no evidence has survived because he wasn't a huge fan of "being the joke." Whatever.

A fun time was had by all.

I'm already brainstorming next year's costume's theme!

Happiness Hiccup

2010-11-12T08:04:00.000-08:00

The ultrasound on Monday showed a bright spot on Bidou's little heart. I knew this. I saw it and I wondered what it was. But of course, in the emotional There's-My-Baby moment, I didn't ask the tech. I'm not sure she could even (legally) tell me.

I finally got a hold of the midwife yesterday and asked all about it and she broke the news that because of this spot, our risk of Bidou having Down Syndrome just skyrocketed.

My voice got nice and even, and I asked lots of relevant questions about other risks and markers that may have been present. (Such detailed questions, in fact, that the midwife asked if I worked in the medical field!) I was very calm and rational until I hung up the phone. If you've ever been pregnant or even been in the same room as a pregnant woman, you'll know that my next reaction, as soon as the phone call was disconnected, was Full-On Freak Out including sobbing, unintelligible phone conversations with the Bubba at work ("Lizzie, I can't understand you. Take a breath."). These are not the things an already emotionally charged lady wants to hear.

My perfect little baby might not be perfect.

From the very beginning, I put this little baby boy in God's hands. Before he was even a thought, we knew we would love and cherish him as the gift he is no matter what. The Bubba reminded me that just as this baby is a gift to us, he would also be lucky to have informed parents willing to love and take care of him no matter what.

After the initial Freak Out, I put on my research pants and got to work. I have (accidental, maybe not-so-authorized) access to the research databases at a university, so I put on some Sesame Street to babysit Lucy and started wading through documents thick with jargon. The bright spot is called an echogenic intracardial focus or a calcuim deposit in the muscle tissue of the heart. It is considered a "soft" marker for chromosomal aneuploidy, specifically DS. And that's probably why the tech took a thousand million pictures of Bidou's EVERYTHING after seeing that. I'm so thankful she was thorough.

The thing is, though, Bidou has no other markers for DS. No nuchal thickening. No Hyperechogenic Bowel. No shortened femur or humerus (Bidou was measuring 20w4d in fact, when I was only 19w at the time). Nothing else. And I'm not considered in a risky age group (yet).

When all of these things are considered, according to all the most current research that I read, echogenic intracardial focus is considered a normal developmental variation.

Now, I understand the medical field's CYA policies quite well. I also understand that I need to be informed about everything that happens with me and my baby for my own sake and safety. But I'm not sure not giving ALL the information about something is helpful. For example, my midwife did tell me that the EIF would not in any way interfere with the development or general health of bidou and that it isn't even anything that she felt like she needed to follow up on. Which is consistent with the research I read. Evidently they're either present or not and go away at some point after the baby's born. But an EIF does not increase our risk of DS by as much as she said. Not even close. According to the vast majority of everything that I've read, an isolated EIF (with no other markers or indicators) is not only not correlated, but not even ASSOCIATED with an increased risk of chromosomal aneuploidy.

Seriously. How frustrating. I feel like at the very least she could have told me that the research is not conclusive instead of convincing me that our risk just went through the roof.

I spent a very emotional afternoon worrying and fretting and crying when I didn't need to. At least I can be thankful that I'm the kind of person that spends an afternoon crying and frantically doing the research and not the type that spends the next four months fretting about the health of my baby.

All of that said, Bidou still has an EIF. And it probably means nothing. But a couple extra prayers, couldn't hurt, if you're the praying type.

It's A.....

2010-11-08T20:06:00.000-08:00

People, I totally forgot how emotional ultrasounds can be. I started bawling basically the moment my back hit the table. My tech was adorable, though, and awesome and I loved her. It's funny how immediately close you get to techs and nurses in situations like ultrasounds. Thank goodness for the really great ones.

The Bubba took today off and we lined up a baby sitter for Lucy so that we could go to the ultrasound together and then maybe out to brunch. Which sounds like heaven, right? But kids, they ruin everything, don't they? Poor Lucy is sick with a killer cold and it was a pretty hard night last night so Daddy stayed home to play nurse and I put on my Big Girl Pants and went to the appointment all by my onsies.

Which ended up being fine, because it was wasn't overwhelming for me. It was perfect. This perfect healthy baby was opening and closing its hands and flipping around and stretching simultaneously right inside me and right in front of me and it seemed so magical in the quiet dark of the ultrasound room. I was a little sad not to be able to share it with the Bubba, but it was a very intimate experience. A baby. That wasn't Lucy. Right here.

The ultrasound took a really long time because this baby was so very interested in getting a thumb into its mouth that it couldn't be bothered to be still enough for the tech to measure things like the head and heart. But watching that arm working toward the face, and watching that mouth work around that thumb. That was amazing.

And then I got to come home to my (Big) Little and my Love and share all the good news. The healthy baby, the great Battle To Get The Thumb, the sweetness of the stretching and moving and kicking. The positive outlook on life:

Thumbs up!

Oh, and there were hilarious surprise crotch shots with every other flip because evidently this kid couldn't resist mooning the ultrasound wand. Sounds about right for the progeny of me and my Bubba.

So, everyone, meet my SON. (I started crying again just typing that.) You were all so right! How did you know?! I myself was blown away.

He finally got that thumb!

What's Your Guess?

2010-11-04T15:54:00.000-07:00

I'm waiting on some photos to be able to show you Lucy in her Wookie-ness on Halloween (you could see one here) - maybe tomorrow.

So! Instead let's play a round of What's Your Guess? (I am not above copying R and Jess.)

Our "big" ultrasound is Monday morning and I am so excited. I feel like I'm way more excited to find out this time than I was last time. I guess I just really want to know if Lucy's going to have a brother or a sister. On the one hand, we have all kinds of girl stuff, and we wouldn't have to buy anything new! On the other hand, it'd be fun to have a boy around too! Lucy could have a sister to steal clothes and makeup! Or a brother to monkey around with! I have to know! Also, we haven't had an ultrasound yet - just doppler heart beats - so I'm just really looking forward to SEEING this active little soccer player.

Ok, so here's some info upon which to base your guesses:

Old wives' tales say that if you're carrying high it's a girl, low it's a boy. It seems to me I'm big in the middle-ish-to-lowish general area.

17ish weeks

Old wives will say that a fetal heart rate above 140 means girl, below means boy. My midwife tells me Bidou's heartrate is on the low side of 140.

Old wives' tales say that morning sickness means a girl because of the double-up on female hormones. I was SO SO SICK from about week 5-9 with Bidou. But I was never sick a single day with Lucy.

Old wives will say that craving sweet means a girl, savory means a boy. I have never wanted more spinach-feta salad or apples before in my life. Oh and potato chips. Normally I don't even LIKE potato chips.

Old wives' tales say that if the husband gains weight, a girl is on the way. Um, have any of you ever seen my husband? The Bubba can merely *think* about going for a run and drop 15 pounds that no one knew were extra. I don't think the man is capable of gaining any sort of substantial weight.

Old wives will say that if a mom has better skin during pregnancy, a boy is cooking, but if mom gets acne it's a girl. I've had no trouble with acne at all. I can't remember for sure if I did with Lucy or not, but I don't think so.

And what about the Chinese birth calendar? That says this baby is a boy. It predicted a girl when I was pregnant with Lucy.

Oh! And one more thing in the interest of full disclosure. The Bubba's brothers tend to be girl-daddies on the whole. Of his four brothers that have - or are soon to have - a total of nine kids, only two are boys.

So what do you think? Monday night will be the Big Reveal!

Lesson Learned

2010-11-01T12:59:00.001-07:00

You guys, I was *that* mom today. The one people shake their heads at and wonder what I think I'm doing.

We were at a store this morning stocking up on things to put in our Rainy Day Activity Box. We got construction paper, watercolors, glitter. I've bookmarked some cute holiday crafts that we can do and send to the Grandmas and hopefully keep the lion-in-a-cage pacing that Lucy does when we're not Doing Something to a minimum.

We went by the Halloween clearance stuff and I picked out some things for my student tonight, and Lucy saw one of those M&M characters personal fans and fell instantly in love. And at more than half off, I thought, "That is worth every penny for the ALL DAY distraction it is sure to bring." So we made our purchases and made our way to the grocery store for our Real Errand.

Blue M&M: the culprit

Lucy rode in a "beep beep"at the grocery store - you know, those little car carts - and was blowing her fan on everything and "making it windy!" and generally having a wonderful time of it.

Then I heard "Uh, oh... It's stuck, Mommy." I thought maybe it jammed or she put it in the steering wheel or something so I pulled over to help dislodge the new toy. But no. It wasn't so easy. She. Put. It. In. Her. HAIR.

HER HAIR.

And it was so tangled that I had to ask a store employee for a pair of scissors to CUT IT OUT. Talk about worst case scenario. The motherly employee was looking at me like, "Did you actually give a two-year-old this FAN to play with?" And, insult to injury and all that, Lucy has a brand new inch-long patch in smack in the middle of her beautiful hair. Totally sucktastic.

(and this is just the part that stands up)

Humble pie was on sale today.

Obligatory Fall Pumpkin-ness

2010-10-27T15:57:00.000-07:00

We have three big pumpkins growing in our garden. We went to a pumpkin patch anyway and paid the obligatory entrance fee to let Lucy play in some dried corn and throw a fit about wanting to ride and then not wanting to ride in a "hay wagon" after having waited in a line of super rude MyChildrenAreTheOnlyPeopleWhoCountHere mothers. It's for the experience, you know.

The thrill of the experience.

Truth be told, though, Lucy had a great time running around and she picked out her very own pumpkin

and tried to put it in the wheelbarrow herself,

and she got to pick out a tiny little pumpkin-gourd for Bidou, and we got to visit with friends we don't see very often. So I suppose I should stop being so cynical and say that it was a fine day out.

The Mondays

2010-10-25T09:24:00.000-07:00

LAZY. I've been lazy about everything lately.

We're still living around boxes. But things are MOSTLY in their right place. I mean, we have clothes and bed sheets and kitchen stuff and towels, and, you know, the necessities. But the artwork is all leaning against walls, and Lucy's room - well, I won't even go there. Her toys can stay in boxes forever as far as I'm concerned. Easy enough pick-up.

I haven't been writing anything. Mostly because I don't want to look at the most superlatively boring chronology of my laziness. We eat! We sleep! We do laundry! Sometimes we bathe! Who cares?! I need to find some sort of routine here. At the old house we could walk to coffee and to the library. Living here requires a little more planning for outings, and I just need to figure some things out. Like story time at our new library branch. Or something.

And I'm still pregnant, somehow. I think the baby's having a growth spurt the last couple of days. I'm starving and tired and then there's the other weird stuff. You know, like I've started getting these weird charlie-horses in my left middle abdominal muscle. Or the stretchy-ouchie-crampy feelings of the belly growing.

Lucy's been fun lately. I mean, now that she's sleeping through the night (mostly) and not viciously acting out at every single opportunity. (She's still so definitely Two, though, oh my goodness, she's Two. Pushing, testing, trying, pressing.) She's becoming so human saying things and thinking things that the Bubba and I didn't directly put in her head. Yesterday I asked if she'd like to paint her little pumpkin she said "Oh, Mom! That'd be GREAT!" Or today we were driving home and she saw some graffiti on a stop sign and she said "OH NO! What happened there?! We only color on paper. That's too bad."

The rain and wind have started in. Welcome, Seattle winter. And if "they" are to be believed, it's supposed to be a really wet one. For this week at least I've got some distraction. I've finally decided on a blankey pattern for Bidou, I have a pile of mending projects to do, and I have to finish up making our halloween costumes. And for the rest of it, well, that getting-out-of-the-house routine will evolve.

Friday Photos: New Everything

2010-10-15T08:06:00.001-07:00

All the new things we're enjoying:

Lucy got a new play rug for her new room. Just in case you were wondering, she LOVES it. She will talk over lunch for complete paragraphs about where the red truck made its deliveries today and whether the yellow sports car got to watch the football game at the stadium.

And so far we haven't had a bit of trouble with her going to sleep with toys in her bedroom. In the old house, I had to clear out her room before laying her down. I don't know if it's new routine or whatever, but I'll totally take it. My living space isn't cluttered with plastic primary colors, and my girl is not distracted. Win win.

Lucy's showing off the new pumpkins growing in our new garden. Oh, man, I love this garden. Onions and beans and pumpkins and yellow squashes and tomatoes and berries. It's awesome and I hope I don't screw it up with my brown thumb.

This is our new go-to walk spot. It's a couple blocks away and it's the view over the Golden Gardens bluffs. We may not have the canal close anymore, but we do have the sound! And we can still see sailboats and barges and birds and the mountains. It'll do.

Sailboat parking. Lucy kept asking "But what are those sailboats DOING, Mom?" she didn't like the explanation that they were parked there. Then once I told her they were having a meeting. She stopped asking.

Me and my girl enjoying a nice walk in the sun. I balanced the camera on a bench and put the timer on. I'd get Lucy to stand in the right spot and then I'd run like a mad pregnant lady to join the picture. I think I took about five out takes before I realized that there were men in a work truck eating lunch at the curb and making hysterical fun of me. That's when I decided that one of those five photos was just fine.

In ... Sort of.

2010-10-14T12:18:00.000-07:00

This week has seemed so long that the toils of moving last weekend are in the very distant past of my memory.

Monday I had another midwife appointment and got to hear Bidou's heartbeat again. Everything looks good and healthy. And I still LOVE my midwifes and want to bring them all home with me to live on a commune. They're that awesome. It helped a little that she said "Your weight looks really good!" which, frankly, might be the first time anyone in the medical profession has ever said that. But it's true for me that I'm not gaining NEARLY as much with Bidou as I did with Lucy. I'm sure the fact that I'm in generally much better shape factors in, but really, I just don't have the time to sit and stuff my face like I want to/would do if Lucy wasn't around. That said, I'm 15.5 weeks and have gained 5lbs. Let's keep on this trajectory, shall we, Bidou? Keep asking for more apples and being ambivalent about the ice cream, mmmmmmkay?

I don't even know what happened the rest of the days that have gone by. So I guess that means that's when I busted my butt unpacking a bunch of boxes. I also started making nutritious food a priority again. We've been living on pizza and takeout and cold cut sandwiches and peanut butter. This week, I have been cooking healthy things again: spicy peanut sauce on soba, curry with chickpeas and spinach. Even without my measuring cups (I can't find them. Who packed this house up, anyway?). Tonight I can't decide whether I want to do the step-intensive lasagna, or the cutting/prep-intensive stew. A nap sounds better than both, really.

Speaking of sleep, we haven't been getting much around here lately. Lucy's transition to the new house is (I believe) complete, now. She woke up with a nasty cold on Monday morning and HOO BOY the combination has been a battle. It's hard to classify when she's acting out because she doesn't feel well, and when it's because she's out of her routine. And then I don't know whether to introduce an Activity like the Let's Put Clothes Away In Drawers to help her with the transition or if it's going to backfire and overwhelm her under-the-weather self which inspires even more vicious behavior on her part. Conversely, do I medicate her when I should be finding books for her to unpack? It's always a crap shoot. And I'm about 65-35 on the losing side of the bets. At least she's started sleeping mostly through the night again and not waking up and freaking the freak out over every new noise. Mostly.

So, we're in. We're in this new house, and we're enjoying the new space. The living areas are just so *livable* and the bedrooms are comfy and we have no share-the-walls-or-floor neighbors to worry about when Lucy gets a stroke of Must Play the Piano and Sing right when she wakes up at 6:30. We love the yard and walking the neighborhood. It's grand, really.

Even despite the boxes yet to be unpacked.

Too Bad I Can't Just Have A Stiff Drink and Spare You This Post

2010-10-07T21:35:00.000-07:00

It’s later than I usually write. Well, that’s not to say it’s late. Maybe what I mean is that I’m tireder than I usually write. Which ends up being Whinewhinewhine, woeisme, lifeishard, wahwahwah, whinewhinewhine. Either way, what I basically mean is that nothing I say should be taken seriously and you all should just put on your fake smiles and nod and pat my arm and leave it at that.

In fact, when we were first married, the Bubba and I had a no-talking policy twice a day. Between the time he got home from work and had something to eat and after 10pm. Anything that was said between those fateful hours was bound to end up some sort of squabble and maybe even escalate into a fight. No fun.

(Ok, ready with that fake smile and arm pat?)

You know what else is no fun? Moving. Trying to move with my family is absolutely INSUFFERABLE.

I hate that we’re going to have to do this at least once more in the foreseeable future when (IF) we (EVER) find a house we want to buy. … But look at me borrowing trouble again, and getting stressed about some future event that might not happen for ages! I mean really, I have enough to be stressed about right now.

First, there’s the certain shorty who thinks that the world revolves around her. She doesn’t think that I should dare turn my back on her to do something like empty cupboards into a box. A box. I mean, come on. Everyone KNOWS boxes are for dumping things OUT of. And climbing into. And pushing around on the carpet.

Then there’s the fetus, that selfish thing that ALSO thinks that the world revolves around him/her. And his/her sole purpose right now is to leave me enough energy to know what I should be doing and walk around looking at those things and at the same time suck my energy so that I really don’t want to DO any of those things, or (more likely) I do half of one thing before I’m exhausted and frustrated and ready to give up.

These siblings are already working together to break my sanity.

And then! Then there’s the Bubba. Oh, the Bubba. The Bubba is just something else when it comes to moving. I don’t know anyone else in the history of humankind who can seriously take fifteen thousand hours to pack one single solitary box. No joke. When I check on him, he’ll be standing perfectly still staring down into the box. When I’m all “WTH, worker bee??” He’ll sheepishly say, “Oh, I got distracted reading this,” indicating an article in a week-old newspaper that he’s currently using to wrap glassware.

Infuriating!

And then there’s the “Did you get anything done today?” when the Bubba gets home from work. Tonight he called to say he was on his way home, I suggested we pick him up because we were going to the new house. So I threw a bunch of random stuff that I could grab into the back of the car without much thought as to how it was presented. “Nice packing job, Liz.” was all that was said, thick with sarcasm, as he unloaded. (To the Bubba’s credit, it turned out that I smashed one stroller, one golf bag, one open box with stuff overflowing - and by overflowing I mean falling out all over - and well, another open box with stuff overflowing, and then our yoga mats in there. Random AND messy.)

I’m being sensitive. I’m stressed and tired and worried and tired and pregnant and tired. I get to be sensitive and frustrated. Sometimes I don’t think we’ll ever get done because all that gets done is what I do. So then I want to just check out and leave everything to the Bubba, and good luck to you, Fine Sir. But then I know that we’ll get done, and I just need to go to bed (which, if I'm being honest, is the answer to quite a few issues).

This too shall pass.

Two More Days

2010-10-07T08:16:00.000-07:00

So the official move is on Saturday morning. It's finally in sight, and I can't wait until it's over. I have been s-l-o-w-l-y making my way through the house and sorting and purging and organizing. And then I got tired of that. And lately I've been organizing/packing maybe one box a day if I'm lucky.

But! I did get the kitchen cabinets at the new place scrubbed and contact papered and whatnot. That takes some time out of the just-moved in schedule. And it also guarantees that I won't have to clean this house and THEN go over and clean the new house one right after the other. Ugh.

I've also been making a trip over to the new place every day with odd-shaped stuff. Pedestal fans and diaper pails and that awkward little table. That sort of thing. Hopefully, then, when we get the truck, it'll just be boxes and furniture in, and boxes and furniture out. Followed by a brisk, satisfied hands-brushing-off.

Only two more days of limbo.

She Likes the Standards

2010-09-30T16:16:00.000-07:00

Much-needed distraction from packing/organizing:

Lucy, just in case you were wondering, I am saving this in a very safe place for your wedding highlights video.

Let's Take a Moment For Some Whine

2010-09-23T07:35:00.000-07:00

It's a done deal. We're moving to Ballard. In a week.

This house is so cute. It's in a super quiet neighborhood about 5 blocks away from the elementary school playground, three blocks from the bus the Bubba will take to work, or only 7.5 miles from downtown on his bike. It's close to Golden Garden bluffs and beach.

It's a two bedroom, which is what we're in now, but it's so much nicer. The living space is better laid out with big windows NONE of which look into neighbors' windows. I know! I didn't think it was possible in the city either! It has a full livable basement with an extra bedroom and bathroom down there (Family! Friends! Come visit! We finally have room for you!), and a huge play space. I imagine ride-on toys going around in circles and two Littles down there fighting over the bouncy balls! The fully fenced backyard is one-third patio complete with a wood-burning chiminea, one-third fruit and vegetable garden (Artichokes! Berries! Sour cherry tree!), and one-third grass. Lucy LOVES it. So do I.

First, before any of that can be enjoyed, is the purgatory.

I have been working on sorting and packing for (ONLY) three days, and I'm so exhausted I could barely drag my pregnant self out of bed this morning. Right now, Lucy is parked in front of Sesame Street and I am staring blankly into the abyss that is our "pantry" - really it's a Let's Throw Whatever Worthless Junk In Here That We Don't Know What To Do With room. I spent all day packing and organizing it yesterday, and you really wouldn't be able to tell just by looking. Is there anything more disheartening?

I've already taken an entire trunk load of stuff to the Goodwill and there's a new pile started. Every time I get caught with a "Oh, but this is great because...." I repeat my battle cry: "RUTHLESS! MERCILESS!" and in the Out pile it goes. The Bubba drew the line at the crystal champagne toasting flutes from our wedding. Me: But we've NEVER USED THEM. Bubba: But they're SPECIAL. Me: Whatever (hoarder).

My dining room table is covered with random crap I'm not sure what to do with, I have a stack of boxes started by the piano, and another in the corner of the bedroom. The only thing keeping me going is the fact that we signed a lease. We're moving. It's a reality, so deal with it, Lizzie. But really I'd like to curl in a ball and say, "But I'm too TIRED."

And then Lucy. She's generally done very well so far this week. She is a big fan of putting stuff in boxes and dumping it out. Especially the clean laundry I haven't folded for the last three days. (I knew there was a reason I wasn't doing that chore.) She goes between filling her own boxes and screaming at me to push her around in an empty tupperware bin.

I'm overwhelmed with this job. The pregnancy hormones make me weepy and give me an awesome Can't-Do-It! attitude. But! You eat the elephant one bite at a time, right? As soon as I get through this "pantry" maybe I'll feel better. Ugh. WHO NEEDS A RAT'S NEST OF EIGHTEEN EXTENSION CORDS?

Is There Anything That Trumps A Good Poop Story?

2010-09-21T20:07:00.000-07:00

We've been looking to move to a different rental house since baby number two moved from Category: Idea to Category: Imminent. We don't have a lot of space in our house. I mean, it's technically fine, but I'm ready for better, you know?

So we've been scouring Craig's List, and we've been intermittently looking at rental houses for a couple of months. To put it mildly, none of these places have spoken to us. I love our neighborhood now. We can walk to the library, to the organic grocery, to two different parks, the Bubba bikes to work, we're a block away from throwing rocks into the ship canal. Really, it's ideal SAHM territory.

I almost had to resign myself to living in a far north Seattle suburb where we'd have to drive Ev.er.y.where. because the places in our (modest, one income!) price range. It turned out that we were looking either at real rat-holes or at far away.

But this is all a different post entirely. Let's get to the poop, shall we?

Last Sunday we went to see a house that was old, old, old. The owner was asking $1300/mo. I'll add that the house is smallish (less than 1000 sq.ft?), is on a busy street, with single-paned painted-shut windows, is one house away from a Plaid Pantry stop-n-shop type convenience store and is just around the corner from a huge Goodwill store. Not really cute neighborhood realty here.

After looking in the first couple of rooms, we ended up just sticking around and asking questions to be polite to the owner who was very nice, but kept saying stuff like "I know the carpet is totally gross, but I don't have plans to replace it right now." I mean, really awesome.

Lucy, of course, chooses this particular moment to stop in her running-around tracks and shout "GOTTA GO POTTY!" I turned to the owner, asked if he'd mind if she used the bathroom and scurried off down the hall.

The bathroom was a veritable pit. I'm pretty sure I've used porta-potties in which I've been more confident touching things. I'm not sure when the last time it was cleaned. The bathtub and toilet had grime up and down the sides of them, and honestly, I just stopped looking around.

I plopped Lucy down on the toilet and she went about her grunting and red-facing until she exclaimed "Yay! Poopoos in the potty!" and hopped down from the toilet seat expecting exuberant laud and applause. Except! She jumped off the pot before, um, the ship actually left the port, shall we say? And all of a sudden there was turd smeared all over the seat and the front of the toilet.

I wanted so, so badly to just leave it. We could just run out! We'd never see this guy again! And really, I almost did, but I thought that might be a tad obvious. Well, obvious - slash - MEAN.

You will be happy to know I swallowed down my barf and reached for the wipes I still keep in my purse. I was chanting the whole time "Please, God, let this flush. Please, please, God," since I was depositing wad after wad of toilet paper and un-flushable wipes. I got Lucy's butt clean (with her joyfully oblivious to all of this, bending with her hands on the FLOOR for a butt-wipe. Really I don't know what was worse, the toilet or the floor. Oh gag. Both.), I got the front of the toilet wiped off, the toilet flushed, and I didn't puke! WIN! I turned to the sink and there was no soap. No towel. No nothing. Thank God for purse-sized hand sanitizer is all I have to say. I bathed us both in sanitizer and we left that house post-haste.

(Side note: I am so not looking forward to road trips with 7-11 toilet trips with kids. SO GROSS. How did you deal, Mom?)

Oh, but isn't Karma a funny thing?! I cleaned that guy's toilet, and then directly after, I'm pretty sure we found our perfect house! So maybe I should thank Lucy?

Nah.

Questions Answered

2010-09-16T17:12:00.000-07:00

Inquiring minds want to know:

I am 12 weeks along give-r-take.

We are calling this baby Bidou in utero (just like we called Lu Baby Tad). Bidou is slang for a chubby belly in French.

Baby Bidou is due April 4th (evidently we like repeating birthdays – Lucy was almost born on 8/8, Bidou comes around 4/4… Maybe it’ll make remembering their birthdays easier when I’m senile.)

I have switched from by OB (who was fine but maybe not AWESOME) to a group of midwives in the area. So far? LOVE. They are completely laid back and chill and Your Body Knows What It’s Doing So Don’t Worry So Much and the complete opposite of my old OB group.

I would maybe have waiting a little longer before announcing the news to the whole Hoi Polloi, but I couldn’t hide my already huge belly from my co-workers anymore and I figure if my work peeps know, my support peeps should surely know too.

Part of the Laid Back Midwives deal means that I didn’t get an ultrasound at my first visit, and opted out of the silly screenings and whatnot that we're not at risk for and therefore I am (pretend) nervous that there’s two babies up in here. (There is really no chance that there are two. Unless I just jinxed myself.) Mostly just because I’d like to have an excuse for how positively enormous I already am. 12 weeks. Maternity pants. Come on. (FYI I've gained 2 pounds. I blame the lack of running mileage and not the behbeh, but you never know...)

In case you don't believe me: photographic evidence.

Lucy really doesn’t have any idea what’s going on pregnancy-wise, but she’s a pleaser. She likes to be funny and she likes the reactions when she tells people what they want to hear. At two years old, she’s already a flatterer and a feeler. So, I’m pretty sure she asks about her baby sister because she knows it makes us smile and laugh and give her smooches.

A big package of maternity clothes that I ordered came yesterday. God bless yoga pants! These should get me through the next sixish months. I'm 3 sizes smaller than with Lucy, so my clothes from Lucy's pregnancy are swimming on me. And besides that, I think I wore the same thing every single day from May to August with Lucy and was so sick of those three things that I just got rid of them. So! Replacements! Hooray!

Anything else you need to know?

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad

2010-09-14T07:59:00.000-07:00

Things that have been (mildly) bumming me out lately:

I'm TIRED

We're looking to move and can't find *just* the right house. Frustrating.

It doesn't matter how much I get done in the day, there's always more laundry to fold or dishes in the sink or toys to pick up or papers to shred or beds to make or messes to mop up or children to bathe.

Every anecdote that I have to share has to do with bodily functions lately - they all seem to start with "When Lucy pooped the other day..." - and I should no longer be allowed be a member of grown-up society.

I can't wear any of my normal clothes anymore. Pants are too tight, shirts are too short. Welcome, maternity wear! I wouldn't have minded a couple more weeks of feeling athletic and skinny from my half marathons.

But! Let's not dwell!

Things that have been making me happy:

Lucy's new go-to catch phrase is "Oh, that's GREAT!" Said with great enthusiasm. She also loves the phrase "Comfy-cozy."

The morning sickness nausea has passed and I have no food aversions that I can think of. Mmmmmm food. I'm back to making dinner every night, which makes everyone happy.

Peach cobbler. People, I'm pretty sure the gods invented this dessert specifically to make me happy.

Every time Lucy sees my belly, she asks when Baby Sister is coming (she's TOTALLY convinced she's getting a sister)

I thought of awesome/funny/useful/perfect gifts to send to my Irish friend for her wedding. Don't you LOVE it when you put the pressure on yourself to find something perfect and then you DO? Win.

Lucy can write her name at 25 months. MENSA, baby!

I still run three times a week or so. My mileage has dropped from 25-30 miles per week to about 9-10, and my splits have dropped from 9min/mi to 11 or 12! Ha! It still feels good, though, so I've got that going for me.

I'm designing my Bubba a sweater for Christmas. I figure it's not too soon to start, factoring in screw-ups and rip-backs that are imminent.

Did I forget anything?

Just Like That

2010-09-12T19:16:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in July 2010, I was suspicious.

One day, a 10-mile bike ride made me too tired to do speed work on the track after. Ok, that can be explained away – that’s a lot of activity, you know? But then the next day, a four-mile run felt like the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. Add that to the sleepy factor. I had just been so TIRED. Like waking up tired. Which leads to crabbing at Lucy whether or not she deserves it.

And then – and this was the clincher – I fell asleep on the couch in full sun reading her a book. That doesn’t happen. I usually have a really hard time napping during the day. Even when Lucy was a newborn and I was so exhausted I couldn’t see straight. Even then. But here I was, waking up with sunburn on my neck and drool on my chin and Lucy the Angel Child playing quietly with her trains.

I put it all together, and though, ooooooh. I see what’s going on here. And I peed on a stick.

And lo.

There were two lines.

(2nd pregnancy = already huge!)

In the spring, we will be a family of four.

Just Another Day

2010-09-08T09:32:00.000-07:00

The Seattle Public Library had some pretty severe budget cuts in the last years, so every year all the libraries/websites/everything is shut down for a week or so around Labor Day. For our family? This is an extraordinarily long week.

The fast was broken yesterday, though, and we celebrated by spending basically all afternoon walking to the library, sitting and reading books and coloring pictures and playing with hand puppets and wooden puzzles, and walking home. It was an afternoon very well spent.

I was a little surprised, though, with how many parents dump their kids in the children's section and take off. As I was reading books quietly to Lucy, I attracted a small crowd of pre-schoolers and started to get very annoyed that I was basically free child care for their parents. Lucy echoed my feelings when a kid tried to push in front of her to see the picture on the book I was holding and Lucy said "This MY mommy. Go YOU mommy read to you." That's pretty much when we stopped reading and moved on to puzzles.

Lucy is aware of traffic signals, stop on red and all that. On our walk, I was explaining the Walk/Don't Walk signals. She watched them like a hawk and then would flip out when the Don't Walk started blinking yelling at random strangers, "NOT SAFE PEOPLE! NOT SAFE! DON'T CROSS!"

There's also an intersection between the library and home with a turn arrow. Stopped for the arrow was a cab with its windows down. As we were waiting to cross, the arrow turned green, but the cab seemed to be waiting for us to cross. The car behind him honked it's horn, and Lucy hollered at the cab driver, "GREEN MEANS GO, PEOPLE!" (The funny thing is, this honestly isn't something she hears me or the Bubba say.) I wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or proud...

You can't accuse my kid of being shy or getting pushed around. She's nobody's fool.

Potty Talk

2010-09-06T13:04:00.000-07:00

Tuesday afternoon last week, I asked Lucy, as I routinely have been, if she wanted to wear a diaper or Big Girl Pants. She chose Big Girl Pants. There were a couple of fits and starts as we figured out how we each were approaching this Big New Thing, but in the end? This was the easiest transition we've ever had.

Getting rid of the Nuk? Bad. New car? Bad. Big girl bed? Bad. But as a very wise friend once told me, when the kid is ready to do something on his own accord, the transition is a breeze. I'll be the very first one to admit that waiting for a kid to have her OWN idea about doing something you want her to do basically amounts to torture. But it sure it nice once it happens.

And thank God, right? I mean, really, it's about time some part of this parenting gig offered me some sort of instant gratification. I'm even more thankful knowing that some people end up cleaning poop off their floors for a week or two before things finally click for the little ones. Lucy had one pee accident on the floor all week. And. That. Was. IT.

We finally got the big bad Number Two in the potty by Friday (twice, even!), and by then we were golden. Well, except that when Daddy came home Friday night into Saturday there were an unprecedented number of wet pants incidents. It was just enough of a change to throw Lu off her game for a minute. But! The potty prevailed! And! I never had to clean poo off the floor or out of undies! Bonus!

I was so sure of things that we went out to church Sunday with Big Girl Pants on. I had to swallow some embarrassment as I ran out with a "GOTTA GO POTTY!" kid in the middle of the sermon, but you have to pay the piper somewhere along the way, right? And I'll take that over an accident to clean up, any day.

So, I'm pretty confident in saying that we're good here. I still carry around wipes and a diaper and a change of clothes with me when we go out, but so far so good! The only thing I regret is having had to spend the last nice week of summer weather cloistered in our house/yard close to the toilet. But ohmygoodness, it was so worth it.

See? Even Sonya Lee has to potty sometimes

Out of Practice

2010-08-31T08:56:00.000-07:00

My mom came to visit for a couple weeks and all I did was sit around and relax. Oh, I'm not complaining! It was delicious.

But I didn't blog. Not that you were on tenterhooks - or even noticed, right?

Well, even so, I will entertain the idea that you are mildly interested in whatever's going on simply because you're still here and haven't clicked away yet...

So!

Highlights from the visit:

I had a partner with whom to drive around and check out houses. WAY more fun with someone else. And Lucy got into it too: "Let's look at houses! That one's CUTE! Nice FLOWERS!" (Also, when did my child turn into a thirty-year-old realtor? I should give her some pumps and a string of pearls and put her to work.)

Lucy was basically spoiled rotten with attention and ice cream and whatever else her little heart desired.

The Bubba and I ran a 10k race in Snoqualmie and Lucy stayed home with Grandma. It was so nice. Lucy got some time with just Grammie, and the Bubba and I had a whole morning to have a fun race and the way there and back to talk and be friends.

I did some creative meal planning, and Llama played and entertained the needy Lu-Beast that emerges from 4:30-7, so we had awesome home made meals every single day. Like koefte in home made pitas with a side of tabbouleh. My mouth is still watering.

I took a nap almost every single day.

I now have to get Lucy an iPhone

We bought more Big Girl Unders and Lucy's a little more interested in potty training. I'm ALMOST ready to make the time commitment. Maybe tomorrow.

I got to go shopping and get haircuts relax and drink lemonade and laugh and have a marvelous time with my mommy.

No Shirts

2010-08-17T14:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday as I was putting away groceries and getting ready to make dinner, I opened the fridge to find something and swore under my breath. As you do, you know. I'm not even very sure why I did. Probably something absolutely vital to dinner that was the only ingredient I'd failed to buy at the grocery store. That happens more than I'd like to admit.

Later in the dinner preparation, I opened the fridge again, and Lucy was right behind me. She peeked around me at the shelves lined with newly purchased food and said very quietly something that sounded an awful lot like a curse. I was surprised, half because I wasn't sure she was anywhere around when I swore just before, and half because she was mimicking me so exactly down to the tone and volume of my voice!

I looked at her and said, "What? What did you say?" figuring that this was a good opportunity to explain that we don't say that word and Mommy was sorry and won't do it again. But then she looked up at me and she said "No shirts. No shirts inna fridge."

"Ah. Ah yes... Well. There are no shirts in the fridge, you're right."

And just like that I'm off the hook. Just because she misunderstood.

Time to take careful watch over my mouth, though. Next time I'm sure I won't be so lucky. That girl doesn't miss much.

Friday Photos: Birthday Recap

2010-08-13T07:12:00.000-07:00

Lucy was so thrilled with everything about her birthday party, I'm so glad I went ahead and threw one. I wasn't going to. I mean, I was weighing the work-to-benefit ratio and it almost tipped in the favor of too much bother. Especially since the Bubba was out of town the week prior to the party. But then I came to my senses. Friends coming over and sharing food and fun is NEVER too much of a bother! And Lucy's expression the whole day was something like this:

or this:

She was so excited to see all her little friends come over, and she had no idea there would be cupcakes or presents, so she was beside herself with excitement. It was definitely worth it.

Lucy asked for elephants and sprinkles. The cupcakes are just yellow cake with buttercream frosting, and the elephants (which Lucy "helped" me cut out) are these. Very yummy.

The next exciting thing is Grandma's visit next week! For the last, oh, 4 days or so, every morning Lucy makes a "train" with the dining room chairs and "rides to the airport to get Grandma."

"Choo, choo!"

(The dress is the "door to keep people safe.")

Next up? Lucy has her 3 year appointment this afternoon - I'll let you know how that goes. Then, a relaxing weekend, dim sum on Sunday with these girls (Eeeeee!) and getting ready for Grandma to come on Tuesday morning! Ready.....GO!

Nothing to Read Here...

2010-08-11T07:09:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday already. We don't have a whole lot going on this week. Nothing INTERESTING, anyway. We've taken trips to the zoo, library, groceries. You know, the weekly things that make our family run right.

We're still running. We've got our 10k race in 10 days, and the training for that is bleh. I've given up on the track speed work. It's disappointing, but honestly it was making me too tired to deal with the daily grind, and that wasn't working for Lucy. And after all, she IS my first priority. I mean, I GUESS.

The Bubba has a deadline at work next Friday, so chances are I won't see him too much for the next few. He goes into work early, comes home late and brings work with him to do at the dining room table. It seriously cuts into my Complain to the Only Other Adult I See All Day time, but I guess it pays the bills!

Speaking of complaining, I've been doing more than my share lately. I blame children in general, Lucy in particular, and the molars therein to be even more specific. The whine-fest that is my daily grind can be ... um ... gosh ... whatstheword? ... sucky? BUT! I've made a promise to stop whining so much myself. And it helps. A little. At least I'm not so focused on the crud. Lucy and I have been counting our blessings at night, too. That helps. Lucy always thanks God for the zoo and the sandbox, and that's enough to melt my heart.

Oh! I also I got roped into a commission at church. I'm sure that will be some good Catholic gossip for the blog right there.

So! To sum up: Nothing going on around here, we're boring and dull. I'll be sure to let you know if that changes.

TWO

2010-08-07T19:52:00.000-07:00

My darling Lu-bird,

It’s hard to believe that it was two whole years ago (and yet only two years ago!) that we met you for the first time. Right from that very first moment that we saw you we knew that the world was made just for the three of us.

Watching you grow and change has been the best part of my life so far. You have become such a fun and interesting and opinionated little person. And smart! You’re so smart sometimes I have to remind myself that you’re still just little. You know all the words to your favorite songs, and it’s really something to hear your five-minute version of “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” as you loop verses and lose your place. It’s also amazing to hear you “read” yourself your books that I’ve read so many time you’ve committed them to memory - especially your Thomas the Tank Engine chapter book.

You catch on to things so quickly. One day we were talking about matching at the zoo, how the two zebras match, the two giraffes match, etc, and the next day you applied the same concept to helping me put the silverware away in the tray from the dishwasher. You blow be away with this kind of thing every single day.

My favorite by far, though is your laugh. You have developed such a great sense of humor. You call everyone “Bob!” and think it’s hysterical, or you’ll repeat funny words (POLENTA!) or phrases just to make us laugh.

Now that you have a big girl bed, another favorite part of my day is when you come to wake us up in the morning and crawl under the covers saying “Good morning, Daddy. Morning, Mommy.” with your sleepy wake-up voice while you steal my warm spot in the bed. That’s the start of the magpie report of everything you’ve been thinking about for the last few minutes that it took you to get from your bed to ours, and that brain dump continues all day until you fall asleep at night. There is never a question of what you’re wondering or thinking, or of your opinion on things.

I used to think it would be sad to watch you grow up and be less and less a part of me. I thought it would be hard for me when you wouldn’t want me to kiss and hug you all the time. The truth is, it’s so wonderful to watch you become such a beautiful little individual that my job just gets better and better. And the kisses that you give to me or ask for are ten times more meaningful to me than the kisses I used to take from you.

Happy birthday, my Sweet One. You are the joy of our lives and the pride of our hearts. Our greatest blessing. Your Daddy and I love you so very much.

Your Mama

Friday photos: Around Town

2010-08-06T07:58:00.000-07:00

A couple weekends ago we had a college friend in town and we took advantage of the good weather to get out and about around Seattle.

Checking out a nurse log at the Olympic Sculpture garden

Cuddles by the fountain

The three of us at Discovery Park

Toy House: Great Success!

2010-08-01T09:36:00.001-07:00

The toy house is done! Lucy's birthday is on Saturday, so it's just in time.

And it didn't even turn into a big heap of regret! Here, I'll show you.

Lucy working on HER "project" while I work on mine.

All painted, ready for door/window trim and flooring!

Tadaa!

The outside, completed. (Front, side that opens)

Hinged at the chimney, I have yet to put a latch over the tree, but when I do, it will be all the way done.

With only one little hammer casualty!

I ended up buying 90% of the furniture to go in the doll house. I just got frustrated with the small pieces I tried to make. They didn't turn out very nicely because I just don't have the tools needed, and that's not an investment I need to make at this point!

The oven and fridge I found acceptable enough.

I ended up spending about $40 on toy furniture and little dolls, and that bumped the total price tag for this project $65. A little more than I wanted to spend, but all in all? a very wise investment as far as the interior goes!

All ready to play!

Friday photos: Catching Up. Again.

2010-07-30T12:01:00.000-07:00

This week has flown by. Mostly because I'm so dang tired. Really, it's a perfect storm of me being super tired - slash - under the weather, the Bubba being super duper busy at work, and Lucy being full of piss and vinegar because of these nasty two year molars pushing their way in. We're none of us in the best of moods these days. But let's not dwell! Instead, I offer for your viewing pleasure some cuteness:

Enjoying the swings at Neighborhood Playground

Running bases: Tire the toddler out? Check!

*insert funny thought caption here*

I'm a total sucker for the clearance toys at discount stores. I got this little train set for $9, and it's Lucy's ALL TIME FAVORITE TOY EVER. It's the kind that you pull it back and it goes around the track a couple times on its own. Lucy will painstakingly build an awesome "station" for this train over and over. It's pretty awesome.

Carrying Lu down to the laundry in my IKEA/laundry bag.

As you can see, she's thrilled.

We hope you have a great weekend!

Transitions

2010-07-26T08:49:00.000-07:00

A Big Girl needs a Big Girl bed. That means my big girl is all done with her crib! Lucy's actual Big Girl Bed - the bed frame, I mean - will be delivered today or tomorrow. That will probably be another transition that I'm not really looking forward to, but until then, we've been getting her used to sleeping with the mattress and guard rail on the floor. As soon as we picked up the mattress from the store, I disassembled the crib so that there would be no choice but to move forward. For her AND for me.

Lucy helped with the tricky bolts

The first few nights were hard. Lucy has sort of a low Adaptability Quotient. In short, she's a fraidy cat. She's not a huge fan of change, of different, of new. I need to remember to break new things in for her slowly, and I don't often since I'm a sort of Fly-By-The-Seat-Of-My-Pants sort of person who thrives in ambiguity. Isn't that a funny part of parenting? Learning a new approach to life? ANYHOO, I digress.

She was fine playing on the mattress on the floor decked out in new fairy princess sheets with her red Choo Choo blanket on top, but the suggestion of sleep? was very very sad. To boot, after she fell asleep, she would wake up sad a couple times a night, presumably because she was in a "strange place." But, we are still alive, and are here to say that the kinks have been mostly worked out, and there is sleep in our house again! (Thank you, Baby Jesus!)

Lucy still gets up around 5 (IN THE AY EM!) and the Bubba and I need to negotiate and plead and sometimes resort to using our Scary Scolding Voices to get her to lay back down or at least play quietly in her room until a DECENT HOUR, but hey! She's going to bed without much incidence!

Hopefully the timing of the sleeping will iron out (very very soon) and we'll all be so much happier. Oh, don't you worry - I'll keep you posted!

Big Girls and Beds

2010-07-19T13:09:00.000-07:00

Lucy has been able to climb out of her crib for a while. No big surprise there - Lucy is as tall as all the three year olds we know and she's a spider-monkey incarnate.

In the beginning, I was able to convince her that "We don't climb out of our bed." But then that stopped working, and she would climb out occasionally to get a book or a toy and bring it back into her bed. Which, actually, I thought was ideal. I mean, she's happy and staying (mostly) in bed, right?

Now. Now, she knows that she can climb in and out at will, she DOES NOT STAY in the crib. We pushed the arm chair right up against the crib so that she wouldn't be risking life and limb any more by launching her little self over the railing to the floor (she had been doing this crazy bounding-leap-to-one-arm-drop maneuver that stopped my heart every time). She can now just hop onto the arm of the chair and down. I think you will agree, though, that this is less than ideal. Even more so since Parenting turned into Bed Policing, and I am not a fan.

Every bedtime minutes after I have tucked her in, I have to decide if she's just getting a different book to read or if she's up playing and not going to bed, and then go into her room, get her settled and tucked, etc. And then do it over again in five or ten minutes. The Bubba and I are constantly barking "Get back in your bed!" or "It's time to go to sleep!" On top of that, instead of going to bed at 7:30 or so, she will finally fall asleep when exhaustion grips her at 9 or 9:30. Oh! And the morning! At around 5:30, instead of rolling over and going back to sleep until 7 or so? SHE GETS UP. Presumably because she can.

There is not a whole lot sweeter in this life than waking up to a little face that belongs to a little person who crawled in to share my warm spot in the bed whispering "Hi Mama." But not at 5:30. I mean, come on.

So! Two things: 1) I'm going to buy a Big Girl bed very very shortly, and 2) HOW DO WE MAKE THAT TRANSITION? Especially if Lucy has a medium to low adaptability quotient (see here for example)? I'm going nuts now, so it can't be any worse, but I need a strategy.

Suggestions, please! Aaaaaand go!

The Toy House

2010-07-15T12:51:00.000-07:00

I'm super picky about buying toys for Lucy. Maybe that's one of the reasons she has so few. She has a music table and a ride-on toy, but other than that, all of her toys fit into one small box. And of this small selection, she actually plays with a smaller selection. So, you know, I'm not anxious to run out and buy her tons of stuff when she can be happy for an hour putting blocks in her "purse" and "going to the grocery store for milk" or driving her matchbox cars up and down the sofa.

For her birthday, I wanted to splurge a little bit, though, and buy her a doll house. At a friend's house she spend a good chunk of time putting the dollies to bed and getting them up again and giving them a bath, and repeat ad nauseam. I thought "What a great present for a two year old!" Thus started the Quest for the Perfect Dollhouse.

My criteria are these:

Must have openy - closey things
Must be small enough that it doesn't take up prime real estate in my Living Space
Must be cute and/or cool (read: wood or really nice even if it's plastic)
Must have parts big enough to have around smaller babies
Must fit into my (meager) budget

Within the scope of this research, The Perfect Dollhouse does not exist. Sad face. Disappointment reigns. What now? Now I'm positively STUCK on this idea, and I can't think of any other birthday present that might even be somewhat appropriate.

So, like any good perfectionist, I drew up some plans for an openy-closey smallish dollhouse. And then I went to Lowes and spend $20ish on materials.

Off I go!

A million library books on dollhouses, my plans taped to the wall!

If it doesn't turn into a big pile of Why Did I Think This Was A Good Idea? I'll let you see the finished project!

Lucy OK

2010-07-12T20:18:00.000-07:00

This morning Lucy and I went for a run. I try to keep the runs with her relatively short, because, let's face it, it would suck to be strapped down anywhere for long. Especially for a ... shall we say Energetic almost-two-year-old. But this morning she was being so good and waving to everyone we passed and singing cute songs to herself I went about 6.5 miles, just over an hour. She was such an angel.

And when we got home, I turned PBS kids on and settled her onto her little cushion so that I could shower. This ability is only about two months old, so every time it happens I'm feel as lucky as the first time. I have yet to take this little bit of freedom for granted. (As an aside, if you ask Lucy when Super Why comes on, she'll tell you "When Mama showers.")

I told Lucy that I was going to take a shower and that I would only be a minute. She came to the bathroom, presumably to make sure that showering was indeed my intent and I wasn't actually going to run outside quick and do something fun. And I said "You gonna be ok? I'll keep the door open for you and if you need me I'll just be right here in the tub, you can come see." She replied "Um, how 'bout let's close the door. Lucy watch TV. Mama shower. Lucy ok." with vigorous head nodding and self agreement. I am blown away by how grown up she is sometimes.

Friday Photos: Feeling Hot Hot Hot!

2010-07-09T13:35:00.001-07:00

Summer finally came to Seattle! We're so happy that we're spending every waking moment outside trying to soak up every drop of sun.

All long and lean. Where'd my BABY go?

It's been 90 degrees for most of the week, and it looks like next week starts the 70s and breezy days that make summer in Seattle the most amazingy wonderful and beautiful place on this planet.

I set up the drink buckets with water and filled the sand table, and when we're not out and about, you'll find us in the yard: Mama with a library book, Lucy getting dirty!

The garden gets some TLC from my Little.

Twenty Three

2010-07-07T08:50:00.000-07:00

One more month to the twos!

This month has been super fun. We've been getting out of the house more, and, in Lucy's book, that always means good things.

Bubba and Lucy naming clouds

The Bubba and I celebrated our fifth anniversary on Friday and Lucy helped by going down to the market with us and picking out some kitchen gadgets at one of the stores down there and watching the buskers and flower arrangers, etc. The entire time, Lu's mouth was gaping and her head was on swivel. She's been to the market before, but she was really aware of everything this time and it looked like she didn't want to miss a trick.

The Fourth of July was pretty laid back. It rained for most of the afternoon this depressing misty drizzle, so there was no washers tournament or boules or outside anything. We grilled food and then we ate it. Really, that was about the extent of it. Lucy got to play with her little friend Violet, and we were all home and in bed by dusk. I forget how much light we get here in the summer time. Dusk is late - the fireworks at Gas Works didn't start until 10:20! We're lucky enough to be able to see most of them from our bedroom window, so we didn't miss out entirely. We promised Lucy maybe next year she'd see them.

And in true Seattle fashion, summer didn't start until this week. Now the weather report is warning us of temperatures in the 90s for the rest of the week. Yesterday, the first real summery day, the sun was coming in the kitchen window and making a bright warm patch on the linoleum. Lucy touched it with her bare feet and said "Mama! This WARM." And I said, "Um, yeah, it's the SUN." And Lucy galloped around in the sunny patch singing "Sun, sun, sunsunsun. Sun, sun, sunsunsun!" Like she never seen it before! I was kicking myself for not having the camera close because it was hilarious.

Lucy's also started telling jokes. She'll say "Ummmmmmm ..." And then say the first word that comes to mind like "PANTS!" and then she'll collapse into hysterical giggles. I can't help but laugh with her, but I'll be the first to admit the humor is a little beyond me.

Bwah hah hah hah!

This stage comes with new challenges too. Lucy can climb out of her crib easily now, and does it at will. It's about time for a big girl bed. I mean, if she's going to climb out anyway, I'd rather the bed be 10 inches off the ground instead of 40. And the frustration and acting out usually ends up with her screaming at me, which, of course, inspires words of patience in loving tones to leave my mouth. Ok, well, maybe I have some work to do there. But for the most part, Lucy and I are TIGHT.

Next up! TWO!

She's Got My Number

2010-06-29T07:48:00.000-07:00

Lucy has discovered a magical secret. A clever manipulation tool. A get-out-of-jail-free card if you will.

When we're in public, oh, say, in Banana trying to exchange a shirt and there are a bazillion young-ish, single-ish, career-ish women buying fancy wardrobes in line all around us, or in the post office where everyone's crabby that the line is twenty minutes long, or when I'm trying to have a professional conversation with someone that Lucy just happens to be present for, or with a cart full of groceries in a long line at the market. That's when it works best.

Here's how it goes: it starts with a simple "DOWN, Mama! Wanna WALK!" And I go through the "We're running a quick errand. Almost done!" singy-songy spiel. The child is pacified for a moment. Until it recommences. "All done, Mama. Walk, pees, Mama. Al-al-all done pees." The line hasn't moved and it's going to be a good minute before I'm done with my task. I start a Where is Thumbkin or Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes some other such humiliating thing. I THINK it's humiliating. But it's not really anything compared to what Lucy's can bust out to get her way. Again, she is pacified for a moment.

Then it begins: "Ooooh. Toots, Mama. Toots inna DIAPER." I ignore. "One, two, three, four, seven toots!" I continue to ignore. Maybe people won't understand her babbling! Heh heh, silly kid. After a warm up comes the escalation: "Smell like POOPOOS, Mama." More. And louder: "AAAA! POOPOOS, PEEYOO! POOPOOS IN DIAPER! (fake cry) OWIE!" I can no longer ignore and people are staring at us. "BLEH, MAMA 'TINKEY POOPOOS (fake cry) NO LIKE IT." Well, I can't leave her sitting here for any longer with an uncomfortable dirty diaper, now CAN I? I guess I could, but one of these people that just don't get it are going to call the authorities and I'm going to have to have an uncomfortable conversation with CPS.

So, I go back to the car or bathroom or bench or whatever to regroup.

The diaper? It is DRY and CLEAN.

I have lost my place in line. My task no longer seems important enough to go back in there and face that line. I give up.*

Lucy wins again.

*Except in the grocery store scenario. There's no way I would let a squirrelly toddler trump the hard work of a full grocery cart.

Done!

2010-06-27T13:55:00.000-07:00

It seems as though running a half marathon can be a Very Big Deal if you want it to be. The one I ran four weeks ago was totally laid back, quiet, no biggie. It felt more like one of my long runs that a Race. Well, and maybe it's because I can do it. And 13.1 doesn't really seem like so long anymore. A marathon. THAT seems long. 13.1 seems like normal Saturday fare to me now.

But the Rock n Roll yesterday? It felt like a Big Deal. It felt like a RACE.

Me and Ann: Ready to go!

There were eleventy-bazillion people there. With a projected finish time of 2:20, I was in corral number 24! We started about 40 minutes after the starting gun.

Finally! The starting line in sight!

There were all kinds of fun things that surprised me about the race. There were fun cheering sections! Cheerleaders from high schools in the regions dressed up all crazy and were hollering at us to "Keep truckin' all the way!" Because there were so many people running, there was a huge "wave" to ride as far as just keeping pace with the people around me. There were a few times when I was blown away not only by the sea of different colored t-shirts snaking along the course, but the sound of everyone's feet hitting the pavement in some sort of organized chaos in the lull between bands and conversations.

There was a surreal part too. The course took us through a tunnel on I-90, and I felt like I was hallucinating for 3/4 of a mile. The yellow tunnel lights made it seem creepy, and there was a dj mixing at the mouth of the tunnel. The thump thump thumping of house music reverberated around me and everyone looked like they were going up and down in slow motion in the dim lights. So. Trippy. I had to remind myself twice that I would be out of the tunnel soon.

There were parts that sucked too. Whoever told me that it was an easy course and there was only the one hill as the course follows the I-90 on ramp? I shake my fist at you emphatically. The course was hilly! Some of them gradual and long, some of them short and steep. Hills. I would not have minded being more prepared for that, although, maybe not knowing was best since I just tried to keep my eyes down and my knees up.

I had to stop at a Porta-potty along the way, and let me go ahead and tell you, that was not the best part of the race. It took minutes waiting in line etc. and then I had to deal with all the Nervous Tummies that went before me. Ew. Between that and having to stop for an ambulance, I had about 5 minutes of wasted time. Which isn't the worst that could have happened, for sure.

As I was crossing the finish line, the first marathoners were crossing, and boy, that was cool. Those guys were SO FAST and SO FIT. They were finishing around 3:00:00 or faster. Amazing.

I finished in 2:19:43 which is about 0:2:30 better than four weeks ago on a MUCH harder course. I'll call that a victory.

Go me!

After a brief consideration of starting marathon training right away, I've decided I'm not going to mind hanging up my long-distance running shoes for a while.

At least until my blisters heal.

Friday Photos: All Lucy All the Time

2010-06-25T08:46:00.000-07:00

Genius: dry beans + some measuring utensils = Mama gets some kitchen work done in peace

Being dimpled and coy

Check out the precision of these "letters" and "numbers" (Mensa, baby)

I just picked up my new Rock n Roll shirt

(the race is tomorrow - think good thoughts for me!),

and guess who already claimed it as her own?

Dad's Day

2010-06-20T20:19:00.001-07:00

It's been a wet, dreary, cold Father's Day weekend. After the Bubba and the Bird tagged along on my soggy long run on Saturday, all we've been up to is sitting around waiting for the sun to shine. Oh, and trying to put up with the neighborhood fair held on the weekend of the solstice every summer. And by "put up with" I mean avoiding. (We're old.) (Get off my lawn you pesky kids!) So we've been cooped up and cabin feverish.

But it has also given us the opportunity to do things like this:

Movies in bed, anyone?

I chose this daddy just for you, Lucy. I just knew he'd be perfect.

Passive Aggressive Behavior

2010-06-16T13:04:00.000-07:00

There hasn’t been much sun yet this summer. The clouds are still hanging around taunting us, trying to convince us all to lemming ourselves off the Aurora Bridge. There have been sun-breaks, though, and those make life worth living right now.

We were taking advantage of one such sun-break the other morning. It happened to be a day when Lucy was up early, and we had already watched Sesame Street and eaten breakfast, been to the grocery store for two dinner ingredients I was missing, returned a DVD to the video store and dropped off overdue library books and it was still only 9:30AM. One of THOSE mornings. So, thank God for sun, right? Take the kid poor to the park and burn up all that energy and focus on a good nap (for everyone involved).

We went to a small park nearby, and we had it all to ourselves. It was heaven. Lucy ran around everywhere, going up the stairs, down the slide, to the rocking toy, over and over and over. And every time she would say “Mama, Yucy show you!” obviously so proud of herself that she could hang and swing on the bar or make it up the ramp all on her own.

And then other kids came. Except it wasn’t other kids with their parents. It was a group of 12 kids with their day care teachers. The kids were maybe three and four. Much older than Lucy, and faster. And the two teachers sat on a bench a little way from the park equipment and started to discuss something with their arms crossed oblivious to the children. The kids set up camp on the top of the slide, on the swings, on the rocking toy, in the tunnel from the stairs to the slide, and they wouldn’t let Lucy play. Lucy was confused.

Hello?! Park! Public! It's not like we were crashing the school yard!

At first, I started getting in there “She’s much smaller than you!” and “We share with each other at the park!” and “She’s just little, she doesn’t understand you don’t want her here.” And then I got super raging mad and the teachers still ignoring the kids and started talking louder. “Sharing is the NICE thing to do!” and “Be careful, she’s just a BABY!” and finally “NO PUSHING!” At that point, there’s no way the “teachers” didn’t hear me.

To add to the craziness, some lady set up camp at one of the picnic tables drinking her take-away coffee and smoking cigarettes. Oh, did I mention with her big dog off leash? WTH, people?

By that point I was totally past my boiling point. Normally, I’m cool with confrontation. Get it over with. Tell it like it is. That’s how I like to deal with things and be dealt with. Normally, I would go up to the teachers and tell them in no uncertain terms what I thought of their “skills” as “teachers” and how irresponsible if Lucy or one of the other children had gotten hurt from the pushing ON TOP OF THE PLAY STRUCTURE let them know that I would be writing a letter to the owner of the “school” and BLAH BLAH BLAH! AND YOU! LADY WITH THE DOG…!

But no. I don’t know if I was too tired or too mad or what - I think probably I didn’t want to say out loud all the words I was thinking with Lucy on my hip - but the passive-aggressive Midwesterner in me came out. I grabbed Lucy, who wasn’t ready to go yet, and stomped past the “teachers” saying loudly “We can’t play here any more because THOSE children don’t know how to SHARE.”

That'll teach them. Sigh.