50% goose down, 50% giggling husband
So I trudge upstairs on Saturday night after a lovely evening shower (nothing like showering at night for a good clean night's sleep!), anxiously anticipating crawling into freshly-laundered sheets and resting my head on freshly-laundered pillowcases. I'd sent Joel up ahead to make the bed with said sheets, a task which included the sometimes-onerous task of putting the duvet cover back on the comforter. And I'd taken a nice, long shower so I knew he'd have plenty of time to get the bed made.
So I round the corner at the top of the stairs, only to see Joel's upside-down head peering at me from INSIDE the duvet cover.
"This is harder than it looks," he says, still upside-down.
Yup, he'd crawled inside the duvet cover, comforter in hand, to try to make the dang things fit together... and thought it might work to push the corners in with his toes while holding the opposite corner with his hands... and gotten lost amid the yards and yards of white and blue fabric.
I'm not really sure how he got out -- I was laughing too hard.
Whoops, there goes gravity
Argh! I dropped the baby last Wednesday. OK, she actually fell but it was totally my fault so I'm calling it a drop. I had her upstairs while I was changing clothes after work, and she's so FAST I didn't want her just crawling around up there because the stairs are right around the corner, and very steep. So I put her on the bed... bad idea. I turned away for seriously one second and THUMP she'd slipped right off the edge, forehead first. She screamed like a banshee -- fortunately, everything I read said that if she was screaming that loud she was probably totally fine. Thank goodness Jean the Nurse was coming over and was able to proclaim Lucy concussion-free almost immediately. Man, what a terrible moment in a mother's life. Lucy has bonked her head on much harder surfaces before -- she tips over in her crib a lot, and toodles right into walls sometimes, but this was the first time she'd actually fallen. Well, lesson learned.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Friday, August 26, 2005
The slow and steady climb
For those of you concerned about my health these days, I just went and sat on the postal meter we have here at work that can weigh up to 150 lbs and which I think I'm the only one who knows about, and I believe I have gained at least two and possibly three pounds! (It's hard to tell, there wasn't time to remove my shoes (which are not real heavy) before someone came into the hallway.) So everyone be proud of me, okay?
Albatross Game Recap - Week 2
Well, it wasn't real pleasant for the Albatross out there last night. We managed not to score one whole run in two entire games -- of course, it helped that the games were only 5 innings long apiece, since we keep getting slaughtered.
Aside: I really prefer the term "slaughter rule" to "10-run rule" or, in our case, "15-run rule". It just has a much more dramatic ring to it, don't you think?
We didn't really get off to a good start, I have to say -- despite my best efforts at being All Things to All People, it wasn't really feasible for me to work a full day, run home/change clothes/pack diaper and food bags, pick up Lucy, run up to happy hour for a friend going on a leave from work, and still make it to the game on time. I got to the game OK but then had to make the 200-yard dash from the parking lot to the field, toting:
- Lucy in her stroller
- Lucy's diaper/toy/blanket bag
- Lucy's pack-n-play (for you nonparents, the sucker weighs about 40 lbs, I think)
- my bat bag (which was holding four bats)
- a large brown paper grocery bag containing Lucy's food
- a large brown paper grocery bag containing the waffle fries I hoped to eat for dinner
- my purse
That's a LOT for one three-months-pregnant person to carry, don't you think? I assure you it is. Anyway, I get there pretty much RIGHT at game time. And one of our girls hasn't arrived yet, and the rest of our teammates, bless their hearts, are sort of standing around with lost-puppy-dog looks on their faces. It was like gazing at nine very large, bipodal and significantly less-hairy Hobos. Who could blame them? I've been such a control-freak, they were probably petrified of the unleash of sarcasm they might receive for trying to take charge. I will have to do more to reassure them that will not happen. :)
Somehow we managed to bat, and get out in the field, and thank GOODNESS for the two random "extra girls" who showed up, since Becky injured her quads; we were miraculously able to at least put some warm bodies out there. And I have to say, our defense wasn't dreadful at all -- several nice plays were made. And a few people actually got hits, which unfortunately did not materialize into runs. But after I got home and put a very sleepy Lucy to bed, I cracked into the fresh new Sports Illustrated that had appeared in my mailbox that afternoon, and I was reminded how much I really do love sports. The rush of adrenaline from a sudden sprint, the feeling of fresh outdoor air in your lungs, the highs and the lows -- it really lets you know you're alive.
Anyway, I finally got to talk to Joel (he's been up in Brainerd for three days at a company conference) and Lucy was a doll this morning and we had a great thunderstorm and the world is new. AND it's Friday!
Aside: I really prefer the term "slaughter rule" to "10-run rule" or, in our case, "15-run rule". It just has a much more dramatic ring to it, don't you think?
We didn't really get off to a good start, I have to say -- despite my best efforts at being All Things to All People, it wasn't really feasible for me to work a full day, run home/change clothes/pack diaper and food bags, pick up Lucy, run up to happy hour for a friend going on a leave from work, and still make it to the game on time. I got to the game OK but then had to make the 200-yard dash from the parking lot to the field, toting:
- Lucy in her stroller
- Lucy's diaper/toy/blanket bag
- Lucy's pack-n-play (for you nonparents, the sucker weighs about 40 lbs, I think)
- my bat bag (which was holding four bats)
- a large brown paper grocery bag containing Lucy's food
- a large brown paper grocery bag containing the waffle fries I hoped to eat for dinner
- my purse
That's a LOT for one three-months-pregnant person to carry, don't you think? I assure you it is. Anyway, I get there pretty much RIGHT at game time. And one of our girls hasn't arrived yet, and the rest of our teammates, bless their hearts, are sort of standing around with lost-puppy-dog looks on their faces. It was like gazing at nine very large, bipodal and significantly less-hairy Hobos. Who could blame them? I've been such a control-freak, they were probably petrified of the unleash of sarcasm they might receive for trying to take charge. I will have to do more to reassure them that will not happen. :)
Somehow we managed to bat, and get out in the field, and thank GOODNESS for the two random "extra girls" who showed up, since Becky injured her quads; we were miraculously able to at least put some warm bodies out there. And I have to say, our defense wasn't dreadful at all -- several nice plays were made. And a few people actually got hits, which unfortunately did not materialize into runs. But after I got home and put a very sleepy Lucy to bed, I cracked into the fresh new Sports Illustrated that had appeared in my mailbox that afternoon, and I was reminded how much I really do love sports. The rush of adrenaline from a sudden sprint, the feeling of fresh outdoor air in your lungs, the highs and the lows -- it really lets you know you're alive.
Anyway, I finally got to talk to Joel (he's been up in Brainerd for three days at a company conference) and Lucy was a doll this morning and we had a great thunderstorm and the world is new. AND it's Friday!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
You know you've spent too much time being pregnant when...
So I saw this headline at yahoo! news:
Stewart Appears in Court in Breach Suit
And the first thing I thought was: "What on earth kind of suit was he wearing? How do you wear a suit upside-down??"
Right. I need to get a LIFE.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Late August
Oi, it's been a crazy couple weeks here!
We're over the initial shock of the REAL PREGNANCY... I think... and are now swinging into our late-summer routine. My parents and my aunt rented a cottage on a lake in Wisconsin a couple weeks ago and we spent 4 nice days with them -- and then they kept Lu for an extra three days! It was a really, really nice break (her first overnight babysitters) and I wish I could say I was delighted to get her back on Saturday, but instead her return unleashed this overwhelming feeling that I am trapped in this life I have chosen and that I'm going to be miserable forever... obviously, I have some trouble with long-range vision.
I talked to my mom -- she promised that when they get to be adults, it's all worth it and so I guess I can manage another 18-20 years of misery. Just kidding... kind of. Lu's at a tough stage where she is realizing there are choices and options out there (carrots or strawberries? crawl or toodle? dog food or mom's shoes?) and yet she still can't make her wishes known. So there's a lot of whining, spurts of crying, bursts of wiggling. And my hormones rage on.
This week's been better. A little more energy and a lot more food have been keeping my spirits up. But it is a struggle, realizing that when I'm done with a long day (or week) of work, I don't have the option of crashing out on the sofa with a bowl of cereal, or even perusing my own mail. I am selfish and those little pleasures used to be vital to my happiness... but happiness is a luxury I just can't afford right now. So we downshift into survival mode, and away we go. See you on the other side!
We're over the initial shock of the REAL PREGNANCY... I think... and are now swinging into our late-summer routine. My parents and my aunt rented a cottage on a lake in Wisconsin a couple weeks ago and we spent 4 nice days with them -- and then they kept Lu for an extra three days! It was a really, really nice break (her first overnight babysitters) and I wish I could say I was delighted to get her back on Saturday, but instead her return unleashed this overwhelming feeling that I am trapped in this life I have chosen and that I'm going to be miserable forever... obviously, I have some trouble with long-range vision.
I talked to my mom -- she promised that when they get to be adults, it's all worth it and so I guess I can manage another 18-20 years of misery. Just kidding... kind of. Lu's at a tough stage where she is realizing there are choices and options out there (carrots or strawberries? crawl or toodle? dog food or mom's shoes?) and yet she still can't make her wishes known. So there's a lot of whining, spurts of crying, bursts of wiggling. And my hormones rage on.
This week's been better. A little more energy and a lot more food have been keeping my spirits up. But it is a struggle, realizing that when I'm done with a long day (or week) of work, I don't have the option of crashing out on the sofa with a bowl of cereal, or even perusing my own mail. I am selfish and those little pleasures used to be vital to my happiness... but happiness is a luxury I just can't afford right now. So we downshift into survival mode, and away we go. See you on the other side!
Friday, August 12, 2005
12-week checkup!
So the new little one is fine. Heart pumping away. Cute photo of the Old Little One from a couple weekends ago at the Science Museum.
So, any big plans this weekend?
You know how, when you're pregnant, some foods make you nauseated? Well, they do. And while I'm apparently out of the food-aversion stage, I seem to have developed an aversion to a few choice phrases, which unfortunately happen to be favorites in the cubicle inferno where I spend 40 hours a week.
"Any big plans this weekend?" Arrrgh! Do you really want to hear how I plan to sleep until 7:00, shuffle downstairs, pee, let out the dog, feed the dog, try to encourage the very-sad-looking dog to eat his food, c'mon boy, go get it! Retrieve the baby, make a bottle, try to encourage the very-sleepy-looking baby to drink her bottle, c'mon, Lucy, yummy milk! I mean, really, this is blindingly boring for ME, and it's MY life. You do not want to hear about it, trust me.
As I type this, I realize that you, dear reader, are probably thinking it'd be hilarious to say to me "So, any big plans this weekend?"... and so you will. And just know that you are VERY original. :)
"Any big plans this weekend?" Arrrgh! Do you really want to hear how I plan to sleep until 7:00, shuffle downstairs, pee, let out the dog, feed the dog, try to encourage the very-sad-looking dog to eat his food, c'mon boy, go get it! Retrieve the baby, make a bottle, try to encourage the very-sleepy-looking baby to drink her bottle, c'mon, Lucy, yummy milk! I mean, really, this is blindingly boring for ME, and it's MY life. You do not want to hear about it, trust me.
As I type this, I realize that you, dear reader, are probably thinking it'd be hilarious to say to me "So, any big plans this weekend?"... and so you will. And just know that you are VERY original. :)
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Monday, August 08, 2005
Wha-wha-wha-WHAAAAAT!!??!
A lesson in life.
Part I
Most of you will have some knowledge of what's been going on with me the last month or so. Positive pregnancy test on July 6, ultrasound on the 7th -- nurse practitioner tells us there is a sac but "no baby" and my body will pass the tissue on its own. Fast forward one month: I'm still tired all the time, and my body has passed a whole lot of nuthin'. I'm getting anxious, especially after repeated calls to said nurse practitioner have told me nothing except "sometimes it takes a month... there's no risk in just waiting it out... blah blah blah."
Part II
I am finally able to speak to my Real Doctor on August 3. She tells me to make an appointment to see her on Friday the 5th, just to do a quick check before we schedule the D&C. So she checks me, and says, extremely calmly: "Okay, I'm going to sneak you into an ultrasound to check one more thing. Don't leave here today without seeing me again."
So I go into the ultrasound, and the tech works me up. As soon as the screen pops up, she starts laughing. Laughing. So I demand to know what in my uterus could POSSIBLY be so hilarious, and she says:
"There's a very alive baby in there."
What.
WHAT.
WHAT!?!?
"Look, the heart's just beating away. Look!"
Well, she might have said more after that. I was far too busy trying to come up with variations on the three or four mild expletives in my vocabulary... well, I know I wore "HOLY CRAP" and "OH MY GOD" right out. There were kleenexes and tears and sniffles and finally my doctor (who I swear was lurking outside the door the whole time) finally busted in with a HUGE grin on her face. She hugged my leg and wished me well and told me to start taking vitamins and to make my prenatal appointments. The tech printed me out a bunch of ultrasound photos and when I asked HOW that nurse practitioner could have missed a whole PERSON inside of me, she explained that that is what happens when you have someone who's not an ultrasound tech, doing an ultrasound. Job security for those techs, I tell you what.
I headed up to the front desk, where the receptionist (who is there every time I am in) was all "What can I do for you?" and I said "Well, I need to schedule many, many OB appointments because apparently I'm pregnant!" With a dramatic flair I tossed the photos on her desk. You should have heard the squealing! She called over a couple other nurses or assistants to collude on the best way to tell Joel... and to round up as many free baby-product samples as they could find. I tried to tell them that with an 11-month-old at home, my house is already overrun with baby products and that presenting Joel with "a rattle" would in NO way make him think there was another one on the way -- on the contrary, he would most likely think "Hmm, Meg must really want me to hold this... rattle."
Part III
Now, what I love about my clinic is that everyone there is almost more excited than I am. I think they specialize in infertility, so they take a viable pregnancy as The Best News Ever. When you've got five medical professionals with such obvious delight in their eyes, faces, and voices... well, it's impossible not to join right in. So whereas a month ago, I was not taking the thought of having another baby as particularly good news, on that day, hit with such a walloping blow, well all I could do was grin.
Part IV
I drive home in shock, pick up Lucy from day care (the big sister!! Manny Tanner!!) and get home in time to catch Jean also arriving at our house as we all go away from the weekend. I quickly scribble "Daddy, I'm going to be a big sister!" on the back of one of the u/s photos and attempt to press it into her teeny fist so she can hand it to Joel when we get inside. It doesn't *quite* work that smoothly, but there are several seconds of stunned silence when the news is broken. And then large, silly grins. And maybe a tear or two.
And the fun begins! ...
Part I
Most of you will have some knowledge of what's been going on with me the last month or so. Positive pregnancy test on July 6, ultrasound on the 7th -- nurse practitioner tells us there is a sac but "no baby" and my body will pass the tissue on its own. Fast forward one month: I'm still tired all the time, and my body has passed a whole lot of nuthin'. I'm getting anxious, especially after repeated calls to said nurse practitioner have told me nothing except "sometimes it takes a month... there's no risk in just waiting it out... blah blah blah."
Part II
I am finally able to speak to my Real Doctor on August 3. She tells me to make an appointment to see her on Friday the 5th, just to do a quick check before we schedule the D&C. So she checks me, and says, extremely calmly: "Okay, I'm going to sneak you into an ultrasound to check one more thing. Don't leave here today without seeing me again."
So I go into the ultrasound, and the tech works me up. As soon as the screen pops up, she starts laughing. Laughing. So I demand to know what in my uterus could POSSIBLY be so hilarious, and she says:
"There's a very alive baby in there."
What.
WHAT.
WHAT!?!?
"Look, the heart's just beating away. Look!"
Well, she might have said more after that. I was far too busy trying to come up with variations on the three or four mild expletives in my vocabulary... well, I know I wore "HOLY CRAP" and "OH MY GOD" right out. There were kleenexes and tears and sniffles and finally my doctor (who I swear was lurking outside the door the whole time) finally busted in with a HUGE grin on her face. She hugged my leg and wished me well and told me to start taking vitamins and to make my prenatal appointments. The tech printed me out a bunch of ultrasound photos and when I asked HOW that nurse practitioner could have missed a whole PERSON inside of me, she explained that that is what happens when you have someone who's not an ultrasound tech, doing an ultrasound. Job security for those techs, I tell you what.
I headed up to the front desk, where the receptionist (who is there every time I am in) was all "What can I do for you?" and I said "Well, I need to schedule many, many OB appointments because apparently I'm pregnant!" With a dramatic flair I tossed the photos on her desk. You should have heard the squealing! She called over a couple other nurses or assistants to collude on the best way to tell Joel... and to round up as many free baby-product samples as they could find. I tried to tell them that with an 11-month-old at home, my house is already overrun with baby products and that presenting Joel with "a rattle" would in NO way make him think there was another one on the way -- on the contrary, he would most likely think "Hmm, Meg must really want me to hold this... rattle."
Part III
Now, what I love about my clinic is that everyone there is almost more excited than I am. I think they specialize in infertility, so they take a viable pregnancy as The Best News Ever. When you've got five medical professionals with such obvious delight in their eyes, faces, and voices... well, it's impossible not to join right in. So whereas a month ago, I was not taking the thought of having another baby as particularly good news, on that day, hit with such a walloping blow, well all I could do was grin.
Part IV
I drive home in shock, pick up Lucy from day care (the big sister!! Manny Tanner!!) and get home in time to catch Jean also arriving at our house as we all go away from the weekend. I quickly scribble "Daddy, I'm going to be a big sister!" on the back of one of the u/s photos and attempt to press it into her teeny fist so she can hand it to Joel when we get inside. It doesn't *quite* work that smoothly, but there are several seconds of stunned silence when the news is broken. And then large, silly grins. And maybe a tear or two.
And the fun begins! ...
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Welcome to Suburbia
We bought a mini-van!! YESSS! We are so, so excited. I've complained enough, I think, about how PAINFUL it's been to squeeze into the Corolla (which in addition to being a SUBCOMPACT car is also excruciatingly dirty, which of course is no one's fault by my own) for road trips... and no longer. It's a 2005 Mazda MPV, it's silver... it's pretty.
I feel like I haven't seen my baby for three days... softball on Monday and car-shopping Tues. and Wed. Just terrible. I'm sure she hasn't started walking independently or grown another tooth or anything, but I have to say I haven't fed her anything other than her bottles and Cheerios since the weekend. It's Thursday. Yikes. (I mean, she is GETTING other food, I just haven't been the one putting it in her mouth.) I looked at her standing up in her crib this morning and I think she's grown about three inches in the last week. She is exiting Baby County and entering Toddler Land, and it's happening really fast.
Long trip to IL planned this weekend for the Ryan Family Picnic (31st annual, I think?). The Ray Ryans are supposed to be wearing lime green. I know Lucy is set, but Joel and I might be doing some last-minute shirt-shopping.
I feel like I haven't seen my baby for three days... softball on Monday and car-shopping Tues. and Wed. Just terrible. I'm sure she hasn't started walking independently or grown another tooth or anything, but I have to say I haven't fed her anything other than her bottles and Cheerios since the weekend. It's Thursday. Yikes. (I mean, she is GETTING other food, I just haven't been the one putting it in her mouth.) I looked at her standing up in her crib this morning and I think she's grown about three inches in the last week. She is exiting Baby County and entering Toddler Land, and it's happening really fast.
Long trip to IL planned this weekend for the Ryan Family Picnic (31st annual, I think?). The Ray Ryans are supposed to be wearing lime green. I know Lucy is set, but Joel and I might be doing some last-minute shirt-shopping.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Unrelated items
Dang the phone for ringing, I forgot what I was going to write.
I did want to say that at certain stoplight intersections in the Twin Cities they are introducing cameras that supposedly will take pictures of people running red lights and then mail citations to the offenders. If the fundamental point is that red-light-running is dangerous and a crime, doesn't it completely defeat the purpose when you mail the tickets?? Shouldn't they send out a squad car to find the person immediately to stop them in their tracks? Because wherever they were going in such a hurry, I guarantee by the time that ticket arrives in the mail, they either got there on time, or were late, and it's OVER, and they're swearing they'll never run another red light, ever, never again.
So I'm wearing my happy heels today. Not real comfortable, but real, real cute. Black heels with black & white bows at the toes. I wore them earlier in the week, or maybe last week, and went home that day without a single compliment! Shocked to the core, I had to wear them again sooner than usual, just to make sure the previous outing was an anomaly. Indeed, it has proven as such, because the gawking and fawning has resumed. It's nice to have balance restored to the universe.
I did want to say that at certain stoplight intersections in the Twin Cities they are introducing cameras that supposedly will take pictures of people running red lights and then mail citations to the offenders. If the fundamental point is that red-light-running is dangerous and a crime, doesn't it completely defeat the purpose when you mail the tickets?? Shouldn't they send out a squad car to find the person immediately to stop them in their tracks? Because wherever they were going in such a hurry, I guarantee by the time that ticket arrives in the mail, they either got there on time, or were late, and it's OVER, and they're swearing they'll never run another red light, ever, never again.
So I'm wearing my happy heels today. Not real comfortable, but real, real cute. Black heels with black & white bows at the toes. I wore them earlier in the week, or maybe last week, and went home that day without a single compliment! Shocked to the core, I had to wear them again sooner than usual, just to make sure the previous outing was an anomaly. Indeed, it has proven as such, because the gawking and fawning has resumed. It's nice to have balance restored to the universe.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Hell's Hairdo
Is anyone watching that show Hell's Kitchen? I happened to see about 15 minutes of it last night, and for those of you who haven't seen Lucy recently, you can get a rough approximation of what her hair currently looks like, by taking a quick gander at Jessica.LOL!!
Monday, July 25, 2005
Love letter for a Monday morning
Dear Joel,
Thank you for totally, totally rocking. For hollering at me to come into the room when Lucy finally decided to crawl, so I wouldn't miss it. For hugging me when she looked at us to see if she should laugh or cry about the huge fuss we were making. For letting me nap when Lucy wouldn't. For doing the dishes, the vacuuming, the dusting, the laundry. For cutting and blending up pears ALL ON YOUR OWN for the baby. For sitting through the Christian-Bale-a-thon that was this weekend's rented movies. For being so sweet and cute and sorry when you A. ripped the antenna off the car backing out of the garage with the garage door only 2/3 up, and B. called me when I was 1/3 of the way to work this morning because you left your wallet in my car and needed me to drive it back home to you. For teaching Lucy to say "uh-oh." For always thinking of me first.
I love you,
your Beefy
Thank you for totally, totally rocking. For hollering at me to come into the room when Lucy finally decided to crawl, so I wouldn't miss it. For hugging me when she looked at us to see if she should laugh or cry about the huge fuss we were making. For letting me nap when Lucy wouldn't. For doing the dishes, the vacuuming, the dusting, the laundry. For cutting and blending up pears ALL ON YOUR OWN for the baby. For sitting through the Christian-Bale-a-thon that was this weekend's rented movies. For being so sweet and cute and sorry when you A. ripped the antenna off the car backing out of the garage with the garage door only 2/3 up, and B. called me when I was 1/3 of the way to work this morning because you left your wallet in my car and needed me to drive it back home to you. For teaching Lucy to say "uh-oh." For always thinking of me first.
I love you,
your Beefy
Friday, July 22, 2005
I don't know how they do it.
Joel had an unexpected business trip come up so he's in Harrisburg, PA for about 30 hours, returning today. Once again I am floored by the shock of being a single mom -- it is IMPOSSIBLE. Now, I realize I'm spoiled by a husband who's home every evening right on time, and who does so much cleaning and housework and baby-care. But even given that, I have to say I had a really hard time of it last night with Lu.
We got home after work and she wanted to eat right away. Par for the course -- so I whipped up her bottle, which she drank most of, quickly, and we moved on to cereal, fruits and veggies. Well. That lasted through about 3/4 of the cereal (mixed with pureed banana). All of a sudden, she starts grabbing for the spoon. Great! I think... she wants to feed herself! Well, no... she grabs the spoon and FLINGS it. And grabs a fistful of the cereal mess. And then flings that. And it's on her hand, making it all goopy, so she flails her hand a bit to get rid of it. So there's banana in her hair. All over the chair. Everywhere. On her dress. What a mess. I confess.
Right. So we try green beans -- to the same effect, accompanied by screaming. And she's shrugging one shoulder, and I'm thinking: ear infection? teething? Who even knows. So we toodle around the kitchen, and this makes her happy, and we leave green-bean handprints on the stove and the cupboards and we collapse on a heap in the living room until Jean comes over to save me.
Which she does, of course, with flying colors (she even bought dinner!). Which of course is SUPER AWESOME but I feel so pathetic for needing help so badly! I mean, tons of people do this alone, with four or five or more kids, and I'm sure they're just as tired, and why am I such a wuss??
At this point, the idea of having more kids is really and truly more than I can bear. Because I feel like Lu is pretty well-behaved for a baby. But I cannot even conceive (pun acknowledged) of going through this again... and again(??)... especially having the older one(s) to have to amuse too.
Or maybe she's not that "easy" of a kid. How am I supposed to know? I have NO experience with babies until now. She sleeps great, and has eaten just about everything we've given her. I guess those shouldn't be the only measures. Maybe she should be able to entertain herself a bit better... it does seem to be a theme with our dependents (Hobo is extremely needy and clingy too). I need some objectivity on this. Or maybe it's the subjectivity of an experienced mom to tell me it's going to be okay. I need something! Maybe ice cream.
We got home after work and she wanted to eat right away. Par for the course -- so I whipped up her bottle, which she drank most of, quickly, and we moved on to cereal, fruits and veggies. Well. That lasted through about 3/4 of the cereal (mixed with pureed banana). All of a sudden, she starts grabbing for the spoon. Great! I think... she wants to feed herself! Well, no... she grabs the spoon and FLINGS it. And grabs a fistful of the cereal mess. And then flings that. And it's on her hand, making it all goopy, so she flails her hand a bit to get rid of it. So there's banana in her hair. All over the chair. Everywhere. On her dress. What a mess. I confess.
Right. So we try green beans -- to the same effect, accompanied by screaming. And she's shrugging one shoulder, and I'm thinking: ear infection? teething? Who even knows. So we toodle around the kitchen, and this makes her happy, and we leave green-bean handprints on the stove and the cupboards and we collapse on a heap in the living room until Jean comes over to save me.
Which she does, of course, with flying colors (she even bought dinner!). Which of course is SUPER AWESOME but I feel so pathetic for needing help so badly! I mean, tons of people do this alone, with four or five or more kids, and I'm sure they're just as tired, and why am I such a wuss??
At this point, the idea of having more kids is really and truly more than I can bear. Because I feel like Lu is pretty well-behaved for a baby. But I cannot even conceive (pun acknowledged) of going through this again... and again(??)... especially having the older one(s) to have to amuse too.
Or maybe she's not that "easy" of a kid. How am I supposed to know? I have NO experience with babies until now. She sleeps great, and has eaten just about everything we've given her. I guess those shouldn't be the only measures. Maybe she should be able to entertain herself a bit better... it does seem to be a theme with our dependents (Hobo is extremely needy and clingy too). I need some objectivity on this. Or maybe it's the subjectivity of an experienced mom to tell me it's going to be okay. I need something! Maybe ice cream.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Fun With People-Food!
Now that the Pants is nearing a year (a year!! My heavens, can you believe it!?!), we're incorporating more and more "table scraps" into her diet.
("And it's about damn time," Lucy adds.)
She ate chunks of Joel's burger at Champp's (or is it Chammp's? Chaamp's?) on Thursday, she chanked on a french fry at Chili's* on Friday; on Saturday, she was gumming some well-cooked buffet corn, and she ate almost an entire fork-mashed mango on Sunday and she just could not be more delighted with herself. (That mango was feasty by the way -- I kind of hated to see it go!)
The most fun part for me has been: I can buy produce!! I've spent all of my grownup years so far attempting to buy fresh fruits and veggies, and much to my dismay they almost always rot away before anyone eats them. Joel's too much of a "prepackaged-food" guy (lord love his poor arteries) to ever pick up an apple and eat it, and though I try I generally end up following his sodium-packed lead. But now Lucy and her Tummy of Steel are in town, and I'm steaming green beans, shredding spinach, ripening mangoes and peeling apples to my heart's content. I even whipped her up some "cantaloupe cereal" on a whim at the Gronaus' yesterday -- of course, as a result I'm changing poopy diapers at an alarming rate, too.
The tough part is finding a balance -- I tend to make a large quantity of something, and then she's eating nothing but carrots for a week straight. But I really can't complain; she's devoured everything we've given her.
She's still in "Toodle Town" -- hanging on for dear life and walking all over the place. I can't really say she's getting any better at it. Oh, and the "baby gibberish" has picked up, both in quantity and variety (i.e. less "dadadadadada, abababababa" and more "digividada. op op wog?"). So that's interesting. Happy Monday!
* I know, it looks like we're eating out a lot. This has been an anomaly and we are planning to have more home-cooked food soon... very soon. As soon as softball ends. Really. :)
("And it's about damn time," Lucy adds.)
She ate chunks of Joel's burger at Champp's (or is it Chammp's? Chaamp's?) on Thursday, she chanked on a french fry at Chili's* on Friday; on Saturday, she was gumming some well-cooked buffet corn, and she ate almost an entire fork-mashed mango on Sunday and she just could not be more delighted with herself. (That mango was feasty by the way -- I kind of hated to see it go!)
The most fun part for me has been: I can buy produce!! I've spent all of my grownup years so far attempting to buy fresh fruits and veggies, and much to my dismay they almost always rot away before anyone eats them. Joel's too much of a "prepackaged-food" guy (lord love his poor arteries) to ever pick up an apple and eat it, and though I try I generally end up following his sodium-packed lead. But now Lucy and her Tummy of Steel are in town, and I'm steaming green beans, shredding spinach, ripening mangoes and peeling apples to my heart's content. I even whipped her up some "cantaloupe cereal" on a whim at the Gronaus' yesterday -- of course, as a result I'm changing poopy diapers at an alarming rate, too.
The tough part is finding a balance -- I tend to make a large quantity of something, and then she's eating nothing but carrots for a week straight. But I really can't complain; she's devoured everything we've given her.
She's still in "Toodle Town" -- hanging on for dear life and walking all over the place. I can't really say she's getting any better at it. Oh, and the "baby gibberish" has picked up, both in quantity and variety (i.e. less "dadadadadada, abababababa" and more "digividada. op op wog?"). So that's interesting. Happy Monday!
* I know, it looks like we're eating out a lot. This has been an anomaly and we are planning to have more home-cooked food soon... very soon. As soon as softball ends. Really. :)
Friday, July 15, 2005
The Return of the Albatross!
OK, we are managing a co-rec softball team in Roseville this "Fall." ("Fall" because the season goes Aug. 18-Sept. 22 -- hardly autumnal!!) It's Thursday night doubleheaders at 6 & 7 or 8 & 9. We still have a few openings for guys and girls, subs and regular players, so if you want in, please call me or email me!
Dream Interpretation Needed!
Okay, so I was IN the new Batman movie, but we knew it was a movie, and we were running after Batman but I think we were just following him, not chasing him, down a stairwell on the outside of a tower and then I was at work and my whole office was accusing me of making some REALLY inappropriate joke -- like something about a Cambodian prison and a couple other things that really offended people, but nobody told me they were offended until the boss like announced it, and it was a holiday like Christmas and everyone was handing out candy but I couldn't eat any because I was so sick about making people mad and I really thought the joke was funny and just a joke but nobody else did and I was surprised and then we were at a Ryan family gathering and we were looking at big old houses but they were close to a swamp and maybe going to fall in, and then we were sort of in a candy shop in a theme park like Disney World and we walked out of this huge building and got in a tram or carriage and were sitting there and this bronze death-star but smaller floated down and started shooting at people and one of the blasts went right between our feet and then it started machine-gunning at people and I thought "well, it was only a matter of time" and we started to run back into the building but I couldn't run very fast and I was afraid I was going to get shot, and Lucy wasn't in the back of the tram but I remember thinking, what if she was, would I have gone back and grabbed her? And I hope I would have!!
So that was my dream this morning. What do you think it means? :) :) :)
So that was my dream this morning. What do you think it means? :) :) :)
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Here we go, loopty Lu!
I feel like we're rounding a corner with our little miss... I am just not exactly sure what the immediate future brings. Eventually, I suppose, she'll dine on chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese and jell-o like many little American kids today... it's just hard for me to see the transition as it happens. For the trees... or whatever.
We're still having "liquid issues" -- she hurls her bottle or sippy-cup after just a few sips. So we mix the formula with cereal just to get it in her... but we could use some advice on how to get her to take liquids. Oh, right, I was going to call the doctor. Hm. Well, we're working toward people-food too. She really jaws at just about anything we put in her mouth, so we've experimented with cut-up strawberries, pickle bits, and various other whole foods. Last night I threw some of our dinner (surprisingly good "chicken Stove Top florentine") into a blender and spooned it to her -- our first go with a meat product that actually looked like a meat product when it started. Anyway, she gulped it down, green color and grainy texture notwithstanding. She still only has those two bottom teeth, but she manages to smack those gums around enough to get the food down, I guess.
I gave her a pickle slice the other day and while she didn't eat it, she held on to it for a good 20 minutes, clenched in that little fist. Hobo had a bead on it, though, and managed to extremely gingerly remove it from her grip and devour it himself. I was amazed at how gently (yet determinedly!) he took it from her -- I am hoping theirs will be a symbiotic relationship in the future!
Monday, July 11, 2005
Light-hearted Weekend Round-up!
Hi gang. As promised! It was a gorgeous weekend... to stay inside! Hot, hot, hot (though I don't think it even hit 100... it just seemed kinda muggy). I got a lot of rest on Saturday, and that evening we dressed Lu up and took her out to a friend's birthday party -- SO fun to see all the kiddies (there were at least 10 kids there) running around and playing.
Sunday morning I took Lucy to Cub, where not one but TWO strangers commented on her hair! What the heck! It's just baby hair -- fuzzy, blond, thick, spiky, baby hair. Okay, so maybe I see their point.
We're running into *some* difficulty with our little Pants these days... she's getting, well, kinda whiny. And fussy! She gulps at her bottle but then throws it away vehemently... and then bawls! She NEEDS A CHEERIO and then tosses them all at Hobo. And cries. We just don't know WHAT she wants, most of the time.
I read "What to expect the first year" and THOSE 10.5-month-old babies are all speaking ENGLISH practically... should Lu really be able to say "baba" for bottle, or point to what she wants?? Because she is eons away from that right now. I'm also a *little* concerned that she can't get herself up to sitting from her tummy yet. I think she gets mad that she can't do it, because she's reaching and twisting and squirming and I feel so bad for her! It's very frustrating, not to mention exhausting.
We did buy her a little walk-behind car-toy on Sunday -- she loved riding on it and can sort of toodle along behind it. I think she was surprised to be able to walk attached to something that wasn't Mom or Dad, so maybe it'll open some new doors for her. Poor Hoot!
Sunday morning I took Lucy to Cub, where not one but TWO strangers commented on her hair! What the heck! It's just baby hair -- fuzzy, blond, thick, spiky, baby hair. Okay, so maybe I see their point.
We're running into *some* difficulty with our little Pants these days... she's getting, well, kinda whiny. And fussy! She gulps at her bottle but then throws it away vehemently... and then bawls! She NEEDS A CHEERIO and then tosses them all at Hobo. And cries. We just don't know WHAT she wants, most of the time.
I read "What to expect the first year" and THOSE 10.5-month-old babies are all speaking ENGLISH practically... should Lu really be able to say "baba" for bottle, or point to what she wants?? Because she is eons away from that right now. I'm also a *little* concerned that she can't get herself up to sitting from her tummy yet. I think she gets mad that she can't do it, because she's reaching and twisting and squirming and I feel so bad for her! It's very frustrating, not to mention exhausting.
We did buy her a little walk-behind car-toy on Sunday -- she loved riding on it and can sort of toodle along behind it. I think she was surprised to be able to walk attached to something that wasn't Mom or Dad, so maybe it'll open some new doors for her. Poor Hoot!
One day at a time...
Hi everyone --
Well, I hope I didn't make too many people uncomfortable with my last post. It is a very personal thing, of course, and it would be much better to be able to talk about it in person with everyone, but it's the kind of thing that it's good to have support for, while you're going through it. When something similar happened to us two years ago, it was very, very difficult... often because we weren't sure who to tell, or how, and as the weeks went on and life just went on as normal, we couldn't figure out how to bring it up, because it just seemed to really bring down a room, you know?
Do you even want to talk about it?
Of course! You know, I love to talk. When this happened before, and we started to talk to some people about it, I was shocked to discover how frequently this does actually happen. And I thought, man, if someone had only shared their story with me, this experience wouldn't have been half as heartbreaking for me. So I'm game.
Are you feeling okay?
So far, yes. As I mentioned, I was surprised by how NOT ready I am for a second child. The first miscarriage I had, I was emotionally devastated because we wanted a baby so badly. But now all I have to do is look at that little blond head with a Cheerios stuck to her lip and realize how lucky we are to have such a beautiful, healthy baby.
Of course, as I see some friends adding to their families, I think of the (questionable) fun it would have been to have the kids so close together. I worry about when it will feel more "right" to try again. But these are small concerns.
Physically, it has not run its course yet, so my body still kind of thinks it's pregnant. The thought of food still gags me, and I do get tired very quickly.
So, was it, like, a molar pregnancy? A tubal pregnancy? A blighted ovum? Why does Joel keep saying "an egg without a yolk?"
I finally talked to the nurse and she said it's a "blighted ovum." An egg was fertilized (gross!) and my hormone levels were through the roof (hence the tireds and nausea), but there was just no baby forming.
It's so awkward to bring it up! What do I say?
I think this would work: "Hey, I heard the news... how are you doing?"
Is it really a big deal? You seem to be playing it off like it's nothing.
It is a big deal... it's my coping mechanism working overtime to convince me otherwise. :) You think of "what might have been" and even though it's just a blip on a radar screen, it becomes part of your personal history, which will always be a part of you. Plus, I admit I'm a little afraid of the physical pain I still have to go through yet. I would really feel better if that part was over (were over?).
As always, thanks for reading! I promise to have a much more light-hearted "weekend round-up" later today! Much love...
Well, I hope I didn't make too many people uncomfortable with my last post. It is a very personal thing, of course, and it would be much better to be able to talk about it in person with everyone, but it's the kind of thing that it's good to have support for, while you're going through it. When something similar happened to us two years ago, it was very, very difficult... often because we weren't sure who to tell, or how, and as the weeks went on and life just went on as normal, we couldn't figure out how to bring it up, because it just seemed to really bring down a room, you know?
Do you even want to talk about it?
Of course! You know, I love to talk. When this happened before, and we started to talk to some people about it, I was shocked to discover how frequently this does actually happen. And I thought, man, if someone had only shared their story with me, this experience wouldn't have been half as heartbreaking for me. So I'm game.
Are you feeling okay?
So far, yes. As I mentioned, I was surprised by how NOT ready I am for a second child. The first miscarriage I had, I was emotionally devastated because we wanted a baby so badly. But now all I have to do is look at that little blond head with a Cheerios stuck to her lip and realize how lucky we are to have such a beautiful, healthy baby.
Of course, as I see some friends adding to their families, I think of the (questionable) fun it would have been to have the kids so close together. I worry about when it will feel more "right" to try again. But these are small concerns.
Physically, it has not run its course yet, so my body still kind of thinks it's pregnant. The thought of food still gags me, and I do get tired very quickly.
So, was it, like, a molar pregnancy? A tubal pregnancy? A blighted ovum? Why does Joel keep saying "an egg without a yolk?"
I finally talked to the nurse and she said it's a "blighted ovum." An egg was fertilized (gross!) and my hormone levels were through the roof (hence the tireds and nausea), but there was just no baby forming.
It's so awkward to bring it up! What do I say?
I think this would work: "Hey, I heard the news... how are you doing?"
Is it really a big deal? You seem to be playing it off like it's nothing.
It is a big deal... it's my coping mechanism working overtime to convince me otherwise. :) You think of "what might have been" and even though it's just a blip on a radar screen, it becomes part of your personal history, which will always be a part of you. Plus, I admit I'm a little afraid of the physical pain I still have to go through yet. I would really feel better if that part was over (were over?).
As always, thanks for reading! I promise to have a much more light-hearted "weekend round-up" later today! Much love...
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