quick-witted and witty

Letters to Oliver - 9 Months

2012-01-16T11:56:00.003-06:00

Dear Oliver,

You recently turned 9 months old. We've been pretty busy this past month with the holidays, and you have been such a trooper every step of the way.

You had a lot of fun for your first Christmas(es). To kick things off, we went over to your Grandma's house for dinner and presents on Christmas Eve. This has been our tradition for years, and I love it because my side of the family is so much smaller, so it's a very laid-back, easygoing, no-stress event. You weren't as interested in tearing paper off gifts as I thought you'd be - with you being so obsessed with paper! - but you were much more interested in playing with the toys your brother opened. You spent about 10 minutes just playing with the metal kitchen utensils (not sharp) he got for his kitchen. And to this day, they still hold your attention, and you will crawl around with them, grasping one in your hand as you crawl across the tile floor. Your hands alternate sounds: Slap, clank. Slap, clank. It sounds like you have a hook for a hand!

So crawling, yes. You are no longer army crawling! One day you just decided, to heck with this, I want to move faster! And so you did, and now you are lightning fast, especially when you see something you want, like an open door or a dropped cheerio across the room. No joke, just the other day, you spotted a cheerio below the kitchen counter from across the room, and you made a beeline for it. You have recently been introduced to cheerios, and you LOVE them. We'll sit you down in your highchair and give you one of the foods you've enjoyed since we started solids, like a zucchini stick, and you'll take like one bite and then act like you're done. So I'll place a handful of cheerios on your tray, and your eyes will light up and you just dive for them. It's like presenting someone with a hot fudge sundae.

So back to Christmas. On Christmas morning, we all got up around 7:30 and opened up our stockings and presents under the tree. As soon as we were done with that, we had to race around and get ready to go to Papaw's house for presents and lunch. Your daddy's family's Christmases are pretty much the opposite of Christmas at Grandma's: way more people, a schedule, lots of noise and very busy. But as usual, you took it all in stride, even as you approached the Red Zone of NEED NAP NOW BITCHEZZZZ!!!! you still hung in there. Once we got to that point, we made our exit and you promptly fell asleep in the car. You were worn out, but you never even got upset. Man, you're awesome!

As New Years Eve approached, we hadn't made any plans and had just decided to stay home and have a regular night. At the last minute, however, we instead decided to go over to our good friends' house so all you kiddos could play and we adults could have some fun, too. We weren't sure whether we'd stay until midnight or not, since neither you nor Jude had stayed up that late before, so we figured we'd just watch to see how you guys were doing and take it from there. Well, as usual, you guys were total champs, even though I could see the tiredness on your faces and in your behaviors. We stayed until midnight, made our exit, and once again, you promptly fell asleep in the car and slept all the way home. We decided not to wake you to put you to bed, so we brought you inside still in your carseat and let you sleep there, in your room. You actually love sleeping in your carseat, and you slept there until 7:15 that morning! It was pretty much the best night's sleep you'd had in weeks. Go figure!

Your personality has continued to evolve, and you are so funny and offbeat. You started doing this one thing a few days ago: You will raise your hand out in front of you towards the ceiling and start talking upwards at it, like you're practicing for a monologue in a Shakespearean play. You will also crawl around while holding stuff in your mouth, like a puppy. You've also been known to bite faces (usually mine), adamantly stick your fingers in people's mouths (usually mine, while nursing), and prefer big kid toys to baby toys. On Christmas Eve, I dressed you in Baby's First Christmas jammies and got out the camera. As soon as you saw me with the camera, you started grinning and wrinkling up your nose and breathing noisily, which was the silliest thing, and in the photos you look completely psychotic. I don't know what made you decide that was Picture Taking Face, but you insisted on doing it every time I aimed the camera your way. I couldn't stop laughing, and you couldn't stop making the face - it was really cute and funny. You are just the silliest kid!

You are so mobile, crawling, pulling up, and cruising, and we're having so much fun watching you discover and learn. Jude in particular is enjoying your newfound mobility, and the two of you will crawl around together and play and be silly. You love playing in Jude's room with all the big kid toys, and he loves having you in there to play with him. You guys play all the time and give each other hugs and just act silly together. It's so heart-warming to watch - and it is AWESOME having two boys to entertain each other! I'm looking forward to seeing your relationship evolve as you get bigger, and I'm just so happy to have such funny, smart, silly boys. I couldn't ask for more!

Love,

Mama

Letters to Jude - 3 Years!

2011-12-12T22:34:00.000-06:00

Dear Jude,

Yesterday was your third birthday. Where do I start?

You have turned out to be such an amazing kid! Everyday, you blow my mind with the things you say and do and the things you've learned while I wasn't looking and the skills you've mastered that we've worked so hard to accomplish.

As our first kid, you've been new territory to us with every new milestone, every new stage, and every new challenge. And we must be doing something right, because at three years old, you are just a whirlwind of energy and humor and fun and willfulness and surprises. You can sing your ABCs and count to 10. You can identify colors and shapes and are starting to pick up on identifying some letters and numbers. You're patient and kind, silly and smart, and you come up with these crazy dances that each have a name. There's the weenie dance, the cracker dance, the Mama dance, the penguin dance, the hip hop dance, and a million unnamed dances that crack us up. You love arts and crafts: drawing, painting, making things like paper hats and turkeys and owls, macaroni art, and necklaces made from yarn and penne pasta. You've mastered going potty and are completely potty trained, except for naps and nighttime. In the past couple of days, you've even stayed dry during your nap! You almost never have accidents, and you finally stopped purposely peeing on the floor (for the most part).

You have turned into quite the picky eater, and I'm actually surprised. You ate everything as a baby, no questions asked. You didn't turn your nose up at anything! And now, there are some nights when we have to make you a grilled cheese because you won't eat what we're having for dinner. I'm sorry, but we can't have ravioli or spaghetti or pizza (apparently you really like Italian food!) every night! And it's not like we eat gross or unreasonable stuff. Your daddy is an amazing cook, and we eat very delicious meals, actually. Hopefully, it's something you'll outgrow. Oddly enough, you always like things that I think you'll think is gross, like olives, sushi, and lobster pate. Yes, you read that right. I wouldn't even try the lobster pate, and you were all like, "Dada! MORE!"

You have grown into such an incredible big brother! You can be mad as hell at me or Daddy, but you are never angry at Oliver. Even if you're giving us glares or crying crocodile tears, you'll see Oliver and smile. You're so patient and caring, and you talk to him with the sweetest little high-pitched voice. You're always trying to get him to look at you so you can entertain him, and you love to make him laugh. You ask to hold him all the time, and you love to share your toys with him. You two are inseparable and already play so well together. You'd never guess that just a few months ago, when he was new and tiny, you would walk up and just smack him in the head! I'm so happy we were able to give you a brother, and I'm so looking forward to watching you two grow up and be each others' best friends. As close as you are now, I can only imagine what a wonderful relationship you'll have with each other.

On the eve of your birthday, I asked you some questions about your favorite things. You were reluctant at first to answer, either because you felt put on the spot and didn't know how to respond, or you were just being stubborn. Either way, I finally coaxed you into giving me answers while we ate dinner - Haitian beans and rice for Daddy and me, and a grilled cheese for you (told ya). Here are your answers:

1. What's your favorite color? Pink and Orange
2. What's your favorite toy? Choo-choos
3. What's your favorite fruit? Blackberries
4. What's your favorite show? Barney
5. What's your favorite thing to eat for lunch? PBJ taco (aka PBJ fold-over)
6. What's your favorite outfit? Glow in dark Halloween shirt
7. What's your favorite game? Hide and seek
8. What's your favorite snack? Granola bar
9. What's your favorite animal? Tiger
10. What's your favorite song? Old MacDonald
11. What's your favorite book? the House Book (Though I suspect it's really Everyone Poops - lol!)
12. Who is your best friend? Bryson
13. What is your favorite cereal? Tiny cereal (aka Rice Crispies)
14. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Play
15. What is your favorite thing to drink? Milk
16. What is your favorite holiday? Christmas
17. What is your favorite thing to sleep with at night? Hippo
18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? Pancakes
19. What do you want for dinner on your birthday? Cake
20. What do you want to be when you grow up? Batman

Your birthday party was a big success, and you had SO MUCH fun! We had the party at "the bounce park," and you loved having your friends and family there with you to play and jump. So much so, in fact, that you refused to let me play with or near you - you kept telling me to get out because you were playing with someone else! Hmph! Luckily, I'm your mommy, and I get to play with you all the time. Heh, heh, heh... You did a great job blowing out the candles on your cake, getting all three with a single, quick puff. Later that evening, I asked you what you wished for, and you answered, "Cake." My first though was, CAKE! You are so my son! The second was, Way to shoot for something practical that will likely come true! YOU ARE SO MY SON.

I'm so glad that you're my firstborn and that you are exactly who you are. I could not imagine life without you, and I can't wait to see what you come up with next. You are destined for a wonderful life, full of love and laughter, because that is what you bring to our lives. Thank you for being my son. I love you more than you'll ever know.

Love,

Mama

Letters to Oliver - 8 Months

2011-12-12T21:51:00.000-06:00

Dear Oliver,

Last week you turned 8 months old. You continue to delight and entertain us, and you're learning and doing so much! You've become a pro at pulling up to standing, and you're thrilled to find new vantage points and new ways to get to things that you want - which is basically everything. Especially, as mentioned in last month's letter, PAPER. You are the Paper King! I've had to throw out (recycle) magazines before I'm even finished reading them simply to keep you safe! I know you've swallowed little scraps of paper as I tried to fish them out of your mouth, so instead of stressing about it, I just decided to hell with it, no magazine article is worth a choking baby!

Your sleep has been...interesting. Some nights are good, with only one or two awakenings, and some nights it seems like you don't sleep at all. You FINALLY stopped teething for the time being, and you have a whopping EIGHT teeth - four on top and four on bottom. I mentioned that last week at my dentist appointment, and you should have seen her jaw drop! She actually has a baby about 3 weeks younger than you are, and she said he has two teeth about to come through.

By now, I'm used to you surprising us. First, it was the red hair. Then, you got your first tooth at 3 1/2 months and never stopped teething until just recently. You've loved baths, rejected bottles and pacifiers, and decided that screaming is super fun - pretty much the total opposite of everything your brother did as a baby. You're such a character! But the screeching...yeah...it's kind of obnoxious. Hilarious and cute, but obnoxious and a little unnerving - especially when we're driving!

You and your brother are two peas in a pod lately. He is so sweet to you, and he is your hero. A few weeks ago I was taking pictures of the two of you, and in almost every one, he's looking at you intently. The two of you play so well together, and one of your favorite places to play is in his room - and he loves for you to discover his toys! One of my favorite moments of the day is when you greet each other in the morning. Even though I'm desperately tired, I can't help but beam with pride and adoration as I watch you two grin and laugh and talk to each other so happily. I've never been a morning person, but no matter how tired I am, I love watching and listening to you and Jude in the morning. I wish I slept with a video camera under my pillow so I could capture these moments, but since I don't, I really hope my memory holds onto them forever.

By the way, high five, kiddo! We are still nursing and you have never had even a drop of formula! Not that you'd drink it even if I offered it (which I don't plan to), but still, I'm so happy that we made it through the rough early weeks, the feelings of entrapment, and yes, even teething. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I have to say I am really freaking proud of myself. Also, you're welcome. Encroaching on my territory, however, are GRAHAM CRACKERS. Boy, do you love those things! Just like your mama and big brother! They are your favorite food. You don't get them super often because a) they have sugar and all that, and b) they're MESSY - like, so messy your daddy can't even look at you when you're eating them! You'll tolerate zucchini and cucumber and toast sticks (ok, you really like toast sticks too. You're a carb-monster!), but graham crackers are where it's at. Oh, and pancakes (sans syrup, of course). You got a kick out of those, too. So, obviously, you like things that are a little sweet. Naturally, you'd think you'd like fruit. Wrong. You've snubbed your nose at bananas and pears and applesauce. So vegetables and carbs are pretty much the only things you'll touch. You tried oven fries the other night, and you liked those a lot, too. Jude always loved fruit way more than veggies, like me, so it looks like you're taking after your daddy with the veggie love. Your daddy could eat vegetables all day long, in any form!

One thing you do have in common with all of us is a silly and unusual sense of humor! You laugh at the most random things, and you choose when you want to be ticklish. The other day, Jude put a bottle cap on his head and did a little silly dance, and when the cap fell off, you started cracking up. Ever the entertainer, he did it over and over again, and over and over again you giggled and, once, straight up head-thrown-back belly-laughed. It was so funny watching you get a kick out of something that some babies might not even notice. It wasn't the silly dance that amused you so much - you didn't laugh until you heard the bottle cap hit the floor! You also love silly faces, being surprised/scared to the point that you jump, and abrupt movements and sounds like my head whipping around to look at you while I go "BEEP!" or something of the sort. You're so much fun!

Well, you silly little guy, I think I should wrap this up. I think this is the first time I've been able to write your letter without you waking up! KNOCK ON WOOD. Maybe this will be a good sleep night.... I can only hope.

I love you soooo much,

Mama

Letters to Oliver - Month 7

2011-11-18T21:09:00.001-06:00

Dear Oliver,

Last week you turned seven months old. So much has changed this month that it has been hard to keep up! For starters, you have so many teeth already! You have seven in all and the eighth seems to be taking its sweet time (and keeping you awake!). I literally cannot believe how many teeth you have already, and I'm finding out that nursing a baby with teeth is much different than nursing without teeth. OUCH! I gotta tell you, it's not super enjoyable, especially since you have also decided that pinching the crap out of me while nursing is a nifty way to pass the time. If I try to stop you from pinching me, you get mad and start flailing your arms around and fussing. Which leads me to another of your nursing pet peeves - that's right, YOUR pet peeves - which is me trying to do anything else while I'm feeding you. If I try to read a book or a magazine, you will KICK at it until it falls out of my hands, over and over again, until I give up and put it down. If I try to read stuff on my iPhone (which is preferred, since it's smaller and easier to use with one hand), you swing your hand out and tap it against the screen, usually touching something that takes me away from what I'm doing. That is, if you don't decide to stop nursing, contort your body in the direction of the screen, and try to see what I'm looking at - same goes for the TV or computer. You simply do not like the idea of multitasking, and you think it's your job to make sure I have nothing else to do besides simply holding you and watching you feast.

You are ridiculously smart and very aware of seemingly everything. You love to explore on your own, army-crawling all over the place, discovering nooks and crannies and playing with toys. Oh, and finding every piece of paper that has made its way onto the floor, from a tiny scrap to a postcard to a whole magazine, and putting it into your mouth. You LOVE paper; tearing it, eating, hearing the sound it makes when it crinkles. You have a radar for paper, and we can put you down on one side of the living room, and within minutes you've made your way over to the other side and have found the one microscopic piece of paper in the entire room. I don't know how you do it!

You have continued to be laid-back and happy, and you've become quite the little turkey. Even when you're fussy or downright mad, you still have a tiny smirk on your face. You know how to get what you want, which is usually me, and when you get it, the fussing immediately melts into smiles and giggles. Oh, what a turkey you are. It's cute as hell.

So guess what? A few days ago you pulled up to standing in your crib for the first time! I can't believe we're already to this point! Where did the time go? We had to lower your crib mattress so you don't fall out. It made me a little sad that you are no longer this little immobile creature who can stay put and stay safe no matter where you are. In fact, you rarely stay in one place for long; you're already so busy and always on the move. Sometimes I can't tell whether you're achieving milestones early or if time is simply flying by too quickly, but it seems like you wake up some mornings already knowing how to do things I thought were still aways off. Either way, I'm always blown away when you learn a new skill - especially when you just do it out of the blue!

One thing that has been especially exciting for me in the past week or so is that you have started calling me by name. Usually, you'll babble (or whine, if you're wanting to nurse) "ma-ma-ma-ma" until I pick you up, but once or twice in the past week, you have said, clear as day, "Mama" as I've picked you up. And this is exciting for me for two reasons: the first goes without saying - what mom isn't thrilled when her child starts calling her Mama?! SO STINKIN' CUTE. And the second reason is because your brother REFUSED to say Mama. He COULD say it, but anytime I enthusiastically encouraged him to say Mama, he'd grin slyly and proudly say "Da-da." Apparently, being a total turkey runs in the family. Luckily, you and your brother are turkeys in different ways - both stubborn, but about different things. It'll be interesting to see how you guys get along when you're older!

You and Jude have developed a very sweet brother relationship. In the mornings, you are both delighted to see each other. Jude will climb up on the bed and talk to you in a high-pitched voice and shower you with hugs and kisses. In return, you grin at him and grab at his hair and face and swing your arms and kick your legs. You've managed to kick him, poke him in the eye, smack him in the face, and pull his hair. I pretend to admonish you ("Gentle hands, Oliver!") even though you have no idea what I'm saying, and remind him that you're just expressing your excitement and happiness to see him. He smiles and says, "Yeah," and goes back to talking to you. I love watching you two interact! It makes me so happy and proud to have such amazing little boys are so sweet to each other.

Your sleeping habits have improved a bit, but it varies depending on the state of your teething. While you were cutting your top middle teeth, you slept horribly, insisting on sleeping in our bed and nursing the whole night through. Once they finally came through, you started sleeping through the night in your crib. That lasted about a week before you started teething again. Three teeth have come through since then, and while cutting those you went back to wanting to nurse all night. You're working on tooth number eight now, and with the help of Teething Tablets, your sleep is a little improved. Some nights, you'll sleep only two hours at a time; other nights you might sleep five or six hours. It's wildly unpredictable, and it's been hard, but hopefully once this one comes through, you'll get a little break in teething. You've been cutting teeth almost nonstop for four months, and I feel bad that you have that constant discomfort! You're a good sport about it, though; really, the only disruption it causes is in your sleeping habits.

You still have not relented in your refusal of bottles. I had been on the fence about going to my 10-year high school reunion because I didn't know how you would do without me for more than a few hours. I had been trying for weeks to get you to drink a bottle, and you were still having none of it, but you would at least allow the bottle into your mouth and would swallow a drip here and there. Ultimately, I decided to just go and let the cards fall where they may. And you actually did really well! You got hungry, of course, but you still refused the bottle, so, in the end, you just skipped a meal and went to sleep, and I fed you when I got home. And then you slept the entire night after that! Not too shabby - actually, I couldn't have asked for it to go better!

While the bottle is still a dud with you, you've come a long way with eating solids. We've continued giving you real solids - large chunks of whole foods for you to chew on - and you've moved from just sticking it in your mouth and then dropping it on the floor to actually chewing off small pieces and (I think) actually swallowing them! Right now your favorite is zucchini sticks, and you also like cucumber and soft pizza crust. You also recently tried graham cracker for the first time and loved that (but what baby doesn't?). So you're making strides! It's a little unconventional to skip the pureed baby foods, but heck, it saves money and time, and you have fun exploring the different textures.

One of the cutest things you've started doing lately is playing Peek-a-boo. You actually initiated this by pulling a sheet over your face, giggling, then pulling it off and giggling some more. The other night, you were playing on our bed and found a pair of my pants. You pulled them over your face, and I said, "Where's Ollie?" You started CRACKING UP, just laughing hysterically. You thought it was just the best thing ever! Then, you pulled the pants back off, and I said, "There he is!" and you laughed and repeated it again and again. We had so much fun!

I could go on and on about you, but the heart of the matter is that you enrich our lives and make every day more fun (and sometimes more challenging). Making the initial transition to two kids was hard, but you've developed such a wonderful personality that has made it a heck of a lot easier. I couldn't imagine this family without you!

Love,

Mama

Letters to Oliver - Month 6

2011-10-17T21:58:00.001-05:00

Dear Oliver,

Hey! You're six months old! I can't believe six months have already passed and, boy, have they flown!

You're sitting up by yourself now, and you've started solids. We decided to skip the whole rice cereal and pureed stuff and instead have given you whole foods like bananas and steamed carrots and cucumber sticks. So far, your favorite has been the cucumber and I would say you are least interested in the banana. I'm not sure you actually eat any of the tiny chunks you gnaw off; instead, you make yucky faces and gag as you move the bits around in your mouth. It's highly entertaining for us and for you. And it's a good thing we decided to take that route based on research, because I don't think you would have stood for cereal or pureed foods simply because they would have required having someone other than yourself stick a spoon in your mouth. You see, you HATE for anyone to put anything in your mouth, but if it's you who's putting it there, you don't mind at all. It can even be the same item, such as a pacifier or a bottle (more on that later) or a teething ring; if I put it there, you clamp your jaw shut and push it away, but if you put it there, it's all good. Stubborn and willful; you ARE my child!

So the bottle thing. Yeah. You still won't take one, BUT we've made strides towards the possibility of eventual cooperation. I got tired of wasting the frozen breastmilk I'd painstakingly stockpiled on rejected bottles, so I decided to give you a small, empty bottle to play with instead, thinking that maybe if you explored it on your own, you may decide it's not as bad as you think. You were intrigued with it right away, picking it up and mouthing the sides of it and looking at it. I sat you down on a blanket with it and went to the kitchen for a drink of water, and when I came back, you were sucking on the nipple! You were sucking air, but for the first time in months you were actually sucking! Excitedly, I took the bottle to the kitchen and put a tiny amount of water in it, thinking hey, he can suck on it and discover that liquid comes out and maybe he'll like it - as long as he's the one doing it! I handed the bottle back to you. You promptly put it in your mouth, sucked, and...made a yucky face as a drop of water hit your tongue, then spit it out and lost interest in the bottle. Total buzz kill. So, yeah. We're still working on it. I've moved on to pumping a little bit of fresh milk into it and handing it off to you or your Dad, and I'm not sure what to make of your reaction to it. You tolerate the milk dripping into your mouth, and I think you actually swallow the few drops that happen to drip out as you chew on the nipple, but you won't suck, and you're not excited that it's the same milk you enjoy so much from the tap. You make a yucky face, then swallow. I guess that's progress.

Your sleep has gotten a lot better, although it's still all over the place, mostly because you're teething again. On a good night, and with the help of Teething Tablets, you'll sleep 7 to 8 hours in your crib. On a not-so-great night, you won't sleep in your crib at all. Lately, though, you've had a lot of good nights and a lot of in-between nights, and only a few not-so-great nights, so I'm going to call it a win. You still take pretty short naps, around 30 minutes, but we've learned to just let it go for now. You always seem happy and well-rested and you're not cranky, so that's good enough for me.

We have finally gone on a couple of dates and left you and Jude at home with your Grandma, and although I always anticipate the worst, so far it's been a breeze! You're such a delightfully good-natured baby; it's pretty hard to have a bad day with you. You're snuggly and talkative and you always wake up smiling. In a word, you're awesome.

Speaking of awesome, we recently went on your first overnight trip away from home when we went to San Antonio so you could meet your great-great-grandfather and namesake. And you did SO WELL! Sure, you got fussy a few times on the drive, but it was nothing compared to what I was expecting (see, I always anticipate the worst!), and I was so proud of how easy-going you were about being stuck in your car seat for so many hours. We stayed in a hotel, and you were great. We visited relatives, and you were great. You were passed around, gushed over, played with, and talked to for hours at a time by lots of people, and you took it all in stride. You even took random naps, falling asleep while simply being held, which you NEVER do at home - we usually have to bounce you on an exercise ball while shushing or I have to nurse you to sleep. I guess we don't wear you out on a regular basis like a trip does! (And how could we - that would be exhausting for all of us!!)

Oh, and by the way, you're basically mobile. You're not crawling, no, but you have a maneuver that I like to call (in my head, at least) the Turn & Roll. You can get almost anywhere by rolling over as many times as you need to, turning your body around in another direction, then continuing rolling and turning as you see fit. You also push off the floor with your feet to get that extra half-inch of reach to grab whatever has caught your attention. I think you really want to crawl, and lately you are starting to put your knees underneath you and stick your butt in the air, so it's probably not too far off. And then it will be a whole other ballgame. I'm bracing myself already. Knowing you, and how quickly you learn and master new skills (you learned how to sit unsupported in two days), I probably don't have much time left before you're lapping me with that speed-crawling that your brother did. I think our days are about to get very interesting.

Well, it's 10 o'clock at night now, and I can hear you talking/fussing in your crib after only being in there for an hour, so it looks like another typical night is underway. I'm always secretly happy when you wake up because it means I get to see you and give you kisses and snuggles again before I go to bed. I get to go do that right now, and you had a bath just a few hours ago, so I know you smell delightful. I can't wait!

Love,

Mama

October 2011 10 on 10

2011-10-11T18:26:00.000-05:00

I did it! This month's 10 on 10 was a little easier because we were on the road almost the entire time. We had gone to San Antonio to visit my husband's extended family - particularly, his great-grandfather - and were headed home. Since I had a lot of downtime and not much to do to fill it, it was easy to remember to do my 10 photos. So here we go!

10 am - Leaving the hotel. Jude got a big kick out of riding the baggage cart to the car.

11 am - This perplexed us: Church service in a nursing home on a Monday in Spanish. This guy was singing the most depressing-sounding songs ever. Well, I guess that's pretty much the definition of a hymn, so I guess it fits.

12 pm - Finally on the road! I hated leaving so late! It was really gloomy, but at least we saw some rain the day before!

1 pm - Jude loves eating in the car because it's a rare treat. He just recently discovered chips; they were the only part of his lunch that he ate. "At least" they were Sun Chips...

2 pm - We all need to pee, so we attempted to find a place in Austin to stop and wound up on 6th street. Note: Austin has NOWHERE to pee! Stop #1: Just kidding - there is no "inside". Stop #2: Out of order. Stop #3: Nasty hole in the wall. Finally found a Target.

3 pm - In the middle of nowhere and finally resigned to the reality of Jude not napping. Made things more pleasant to just accept it.

4 pm - My turn to drive. It lasted all of 30 minutes before SOMEONE had to pee AGAIN. *Ahem* I think my husband drank all that coffee just to screw with me!

5 pm - Look at this little trooper! He was awesome!

6 pm - ARE. WE. THERE. YET??! No. No, we are not.

7 pm - The final exit. Almost home at last! And "only" 7 hours later! It is SO good to be home!!

Letters to Oliver - 5 Months

2011-09-12T10:44:00.000-05:00

Dear Ollie,

This week you turned 5 months old. And I know this is getting redundant, but you are seriously the sweetest baby! You're snuggly and smiley and funny and slobbery and so much fun! You're also self-entertaining; sometimes you're content to just lie on a blanket and roll around and play with your feet. You'll squeal and spit and talk and just have the best time. It's so funny to watch.

Your physical agility at this age is really quite stunning. I can't believe how quickly you're getting the hang of things! You roll around like a champ, turn sideways, and will even pull yourself along the ground toward whatever destination is appealing to you. Some mornings you'll wake up next to me (more on that later) and although you started out parallel to me, you somehow turn sideways and start kicking me while babbling and squealing. It's pretty hard to sleep through that, which I think is exactly your plan. But the nice thing about that is it's cute as hell, so it makes waking up not as bad.

While we're on the topic of sleep, perhaps you could explain to me why you won't engage in it for more than 45 minutes lately? You're finally sleeping in your crib now that you're too heavy for your swing to go full speed, but you won't STAY asleep. To give you some credit, you have slept for 5 hours a few times, and you've taken some impressive 2+ hour naps, BUT those are most certainly the exceptions rather than the rule. Generally, your rule seems to be "Stay in crib no later than 1:00 am." And I've got to be honest, you're wearing me down. I can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep. Once you wake up, you come join us in our bed, and while I generally don't mind co-sleeping, the fact that you seem to want to nurse ALL night is what keeps me from actually sleeping. You wake me up every hour wanting to switch sides nursing, and I have all but given up on finding a comfortable sleeping position. If I move, you wake up. And I'm going to need you to stop doing that, please.

You've been so funny about grabbing and touching things. You've fascinated by anything we're holding, especially if it's a cup of something cold. You really love my pink, bumpy water bottle that I always have around. You'll run your fingers over the bumps and feel the cold, your eyes completely transfixed on the bottle, concentrating. If there is anything in front of you that you want, you whip your hand out and grab it. Sometimes it's a toy, usually it's my hair (OUCH!). Occasionally, you'll yank Daddy's glasses right off his face! Your hand-eye coordination is really good, and I think you've pretty much mastered the grab.

One thing that's really frustrating us (other than the sleep issue) is your refusal to take a bottle. You also refuse a pacifier, but the bottle is far more infuriating. It's like you know that that bottle is my key to temporary freedom, and you are determined not to let me have any. You don't even care that it's the same stuff you drink from the tap; you simply want no part in it whatsoever. Even if we squirt the milk into your mouth to show you that, hey, look, it's MILK, you will spit it right back out. Like I said, infuriating. Several ounces of pumped milk have gone to waste in failed efforts to get you to take a bottle. Do you know how hard I worked to get those ounces? Do you realize that while I was pumping those ounces I was thinking to myself, "Pumping sucks, but at least it's going towards a good cause, like a date night or going to the office." How foolish I was. The worst part is knowing that a five-month-old is the one calling the shots around here, and there's nothing I can do about it. Except BREAK DOWN YOUR STRONG WILL. How, I don't know. Who am I kidding? You're totally in charge. Dammit!

Well, as I type this, you're napping, so I should probably take advantage of what time I have left and get something productive done. As I mentioned above, your naps don't last long, so I've learned not to spend too much time on any one thing. See? You have me whipped. But you know what? You're still pretty damn cute. I love you.

Love,

Mama

Ten on Ten....Sort Of

2011-09-11T15:36:00.001-05:00

For the past few months, my friend Julie has been participating in Ten on Ten. It's such a great concept, taking ten pictures, one every hour, on the tenth of every month, building a day-in-the-life type blog post. And every month, I totally forget to do it. Last month, I made it to two pictures before my attention wandered and I forgot about it. This month, however, I remembered and made a real effort! I made it to six photos, BUT it wasn't because I forgot. It's because I accidentally left both my camera AND my phone at home when we went to my mom's house. However, since I at least made it over halfway through, I figured I owed it to myself to just post it anyway. So, here is my Six on Ten. Maybe next month I'll get that full ten!

12 pm - Grandma (my mom) came over to hang out and got some rare one-on-one time with Oliver while Jude napped.

1pm - I FINALLY got the chance to paint my toenails! Sometimes it's the little things...lol

2 pm - Jude's up and ready to play!

3 pm - Jude went to Grandma's house for the afternoon! Time to play with a happy Ollie!

4 pm - Oliver is napping, so I experimented with ways to thin out my jewelry holder and display some of the larger pieces. I think it was a failed experiment, but it was fun to fiddle around.

5 pm - I tidied up Jude's room a little before leaving to pick him up.

This was fun! I hope I remember next month!

Common Decency...Not So Common

2011-08-25T16:41:00.000-05:00

I have been really struggling lately with my perception of people. I've been told that my standards are too high, that I expect too much. However, I honestly don't think that's the case. I have high standards for myself, sure; I know that I'm a perfectionist and sometimes I wrongly impose that on other people, but for the most part all I really expect is common decency. When you say you're going to do something, do it. If you're in someone else's home, respect their rules. Be honest; be considerate; remember that people other than yourself matter. If you make a mistake, admit it, and if that mistake hurts someone, apologize. I don't think it gets any simpler than that, and I don't think I'm being unreasonable.

I've tried simply not caring what people do, but that's just not my nature. I don't let people walk all over me, and I am not a "yes man" (or ma'am?). I will defend myself when necessary, I will speak up when I feel wronged, and I will disengage with anyone who treats people like they don't matter. As a result, people who are more passive feel that I am harsh or unforgiving. Truth is, I will forgive anyone who will come out and admit fault when they have wronged me, and I freely give out second chances (sometimes even when I shouldn't). Admitting fault and apologizing is hard, and I respect people who will do it. I do not respect people who feel that they are never at fault, never apologize, and never admit to being wrong (isn't that basically narcissism?). Or, just as bad, admit they are in the wrong but still refuse to change course. And those are the people I clash with the most. Are they not the ones who are truly harsh?

I don't take people's crap. I used to, and I was miserable for it. I never realized I was passive until it was pointed out to me, and suddenly I realized it was the truth. Something had to change, and I vowed to become more assertive and never let anyone else control my life or make me feel like less of a person. And if that means calling people out when they're being a douche or cutting people out of my life when they've crossed the line - or continually cross the line - and refuse to remedy it, then so be it, even if it results in people labeling me as "harsh." Frankly, I don't give a crap - if they're the one being a jerk, then what do I care what they think? And why should I want them around?

I've been accused of "hating people." But the truth is I don't hate people in general; I hate inconsiderate people. There just happens to be a LOT of them.

Where Do I Change the Baby?

2011-08-17T17:22:00.000-05:00

Funny how I didn't notice this the first time around, but there are way too many places - especially restaurants - where there are not any changing tables in the bathrooms. This is mostly true of establishments whose restrooms are single-occupant rather than having stalls. What's the deal?

When Jude was a baby I avoided public changing tables at all costs. I was an anxious first-time mom, and Jude HATED diaper changes for the first few months of his life, and the thought of trying to change his diaper in front of strangers in a room with crazy acoustics while he cried was out of the question. No way was that going to happen. I remember changing his diaper once at the Discount Tire where Randy worked at the time, and everyone in the store could hear his screams. Talk about a walk of shame; I could feel their judging eyes burning into me as I walked through the store.

Oliver loves diaper changes, but not much has changed about my reluctance to change a baby in a public place - I go to the "Family" restrooms as often as possible so at least I'm alone. However, duty has called many times already, so I definitely take note of which places are baby-friendly and which ones aren't. The number of restaurants without baby-changing facilities is astounding! That leads me to wonder where, exactly, they expect parents to change their babies. On the floor of the bathroom? Not happening. And I'm sure they wouldn't appreciate someone changing a diaper right there in the restaurant - although a booth would be a perfect place, would it not? You know, apart from the eating taking place at the table. But I truly want to know what the proprietors of these establishments expect parents to do when their kid has a a diaper that needs changing. We've actually had to go out to the car a couple times, but as the baby gets bigger, that obviously becomes a less viable option. What are we left with?

For now, I'll have to just keep a running list of places that are not family-friendly (even if they claim to be):

*Nooks and Krannies in downtown Plano, which houses the Into My Garden Tearoom (not that I'd EVER go in that place again - long story)
*Chiloso - good food, but I can live without it
*Spice House of India - my favorite restaurant. Ok, I can't (won't) avoid this place. I might just suggest that they install a change table. And who knows, they might!
*YogurtVille and pretty much every other yogurt place. Ok, I don't think I can avoid them, either. Dammit!
*My office building. And I bet lots of other office buildings!

I can't think of any more off the top of my head, but I will likely add to this list as I come across more places. If you know any, leave them in the comments!

Letters to Jude - Month 32

2011-08-10T13:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Jude,

Tomorrow you turn 32 months old. Not a huge deal, I know, it's not a milestone or anything like that. Except - EXCEPT - that you have been like a different kid lately, in a good way! Not that you were bad before, but you were...difficult. Very Terrible Twos-ish. Which I understand, seeing as you were handed a major life change in the form of a brother. But you seem to have gotten over it, and you are so delightful now! You've been so much more cooperative, sweet, and funny - back to your old self. And you have SO many new words and phrases, you literally shock me with some of the things that you say on a daily basis! Out of nowhere, you'll say things I didn't even know you knew how to say! For instance, the other day you were trying to tell me you wanted to watch Toy Story - one of your favorite movies - but I was talking to Daddy. After a minute of repeating "Watch Toy Story" over and over and being ignored, you finally said, "Mommy, stop talking. Watch Toy Story?" Boy, did I stop talking - out of shock and amusement!

You've come up with so many funny things! Another of your favorite movies is Ponyo. You recently started eating yogurt that has Dora the Explorer (which you've never watched) on the cup, and I guess you thought it looked like Ponyo, except that Ponyo has pale skin and red hair, and Dora has darker skin and dark hair. So to remedy the differences, you started referring to Dora as "Yucky Ponyo."And we haven't corrected you, because it's too darn funny! One day, you were watching Ponyo for the umpteenth time, and just to see what you'd say, I asked, "Hey Jude, are you watching Yucky Ponyo?" Without missing a beat, you replied, "No, Clean Ponyo." CLEAN. PONYO. If an adult said that, they'd be called a racist!

You've also gotten into Batman lately, and your favorite new game is to "Play Choo-choos", which to you means that one of us sets up all the train stuff, then you make Batman fly in and knock it all down. It's pretty obnoxious, but it's funny, and you love it!

Other recent new phrases and words (some with funny pronunciations):
"Ask Mama" (when Eva didn't understand something you were saying)
"I don't care!" (in a silly way, not a bratty way)
"Really good!" (in relation to food)
"Make it bigger! Bigger, bigger, bigger!"
"What's up?"
"Almost done"
"That enough?"
"Putchieman" (Superman)
"Jude fly!"
"Baby gocker" (baby brother)
"Baby gocker go night-night?"
"Baby gocker enough milk?"

We've been taking you swimming as often as we can with this terrible heat wave, and you have grown to really love it! You were very tentative at first, but with the addition of floaties and a lot of encouragement, you are quite the fish now! You ask to go to the pool on a daily basis, and although we can't go quite that often, you're very patient with waiting to swim. We're really lucky to have a good pool to go to this summer, and I'm glad you've enjoyed swimming so much. I can just see you asking to go in the middle of winter!

You are really just the sweetest kid. You've become quite smitten with Oliver, and you love to hug and kiss him, bring him toys, and talk to him. You're also so sweet and sensitive to other people's feelings. A few weeks ago, you were throwing a fit and crying over something silly, and you came to me in the living room, I guess for sympathy. However, when you got over to me, you found me crying over something different (I don't even remember what it was). You immediately stopped crying, asked, "Mama mad?" then looked for a tissue to give me. You found one, tore it in half, and gave one piece to me and used the other piece for your own tears. After I wiped my tears away, you asked, "Mama happy?" After that, who wouldn't be? I smiled and said, "Yes, Mama happy. Thank you." And you gave me a hug.

And that sums up your personality perfectly. Sure, you have the occasional fit, but the true Jude is sweet, funny, caring, and smart. I love you so much, and I am so, so proud of you. Thanks for being such an awesome kid.

Love,

Mama

Letters to Oliver - 4 Months

2011-08-10T12:29:00.000-05:00

Dear Oliver,

This week you turned 4 months old. You have gotten so big and full of personality that I can hardly believe it! Your hand-eye coordination is awesome; you're able to zero in on things you want and just reach out and grab them. You're far more interested in toys than Jude was at your age, so it's been really fun to see you play with things. Your giraffe and red hippo rattle have kept you occupied for many grocery shopping trips and restaurant outings, and you love anything that makes noise or moves. You're gotten really good at shaking rattles and even throwing toys! Sometimes you even get mad if you drop it out of reach. Jude tried to take a toy away, and you wouldn't let go. He couldn't get it out of your iron grip no matter how hard he pulled!

You're also laughing a lot more now. You're quite ticklish, and your favorite is for us to nibble on your tummy and ribs. You also love to be surprised. You like peek-a-boo, but you prefer for me to go "BAAAHHHH!!!" instead of a simple "Boo!" You jump a mile, then crack up. So cute!! You're very smiley and social, and your grins are just priceless!

You've begun to strongly prefer sitting up and standing to lying down. You've gotten really good at grabbing our hands and just pulling yourself up. You're really strong! Unfortunately, this strength is also making it difficult to get you to cooperate. When we try to burp you, sometimes you'll refuse to bend at the hips, rearing yourself backwards and pushing with your feet. It's obnoxious! But I'm still proud of how strong you are, even if it means having to wrestle with you!

Guess what? You got your first tooth already! At 3 1/2 months, to be exact. In fact, you're already cutting your second tooth. I can't believe you have teeth already - Jude didn't cut his first tooth until 6 1/2 months! So that was a big surprise when we saw - rather FELT - that sharp little thing in your mouth! And you just attack our fingers and viciously gnaw on them - so cute and funny!

You've also begun to get in the pool with us, and you really like it! You don't last for too long, maybe 30 minutes or so, but you do seem to enjoy it. You'll splash with your fists, kick your legs, and smile and squeal in delight. So much fun!

You've recently discovered your feet, and you love to play with them and put them in your mouth. I love how flexible babies are, there will never be another time in your life when it's cute to stick your feet in your mouth, so enjoy it now!

You're still sleeping in your swing, for hours at a time. If we try to lay you down in your crib, you instantly wake up and start smiling, with no intention of going back to sleep. It can be frustrating, especially when the swing batteries aren't charged, but I'm sure you'll grow out of it. You were sleeping for around 6-7 hours at night in your swing, but lately with your teething you've been spending more time in our bed wanting to nurse constantly, which I understand. Last night, though, you slept for 5 hours in your swing, so maybe your teeth aren't bothering you as much.

And have I mentioned how noisy you are? You YELL! Not out of anger, no, just for the fun of it. You yell and squeal and just make all kinds of noise! It's really funny, except when we're trying to get Jude to sleep and you can be heard clear across the house. Ok, it's funny then, too, but it does make things a little more difficult. You're so talkative, and you love to be talked to. In fact, you get mad if you think you're being ignored. You are just too funny!

You area such a snuggle bunny, and we are so, so glad to have you. Your big brother has become smitten with you as well, and he loves to give you hugs and kisses and give you toys and talk to you. He asks me on a daily basis if you'll play trains with him when you get bigger, and I can tell that he just cannot wait until he gets to play with you on a larger scale! I can tell that you two will be best buddies, and I am so looking forward to seeing your relationship and personalities take shape.

Stay sweet, Oliver (I know you will). I love you very much. You delight us every day, and I am so glad I get to be your mother.

Love,

Mama

Letters to Oliver - 3 Months

2011-07-08T22:30:00.001-05:00

Dear Oliver,

Today you turn three months old. I can hardly believe you are no longer a newborn. The time flew by so fast, I am literally stunned that you are already so big. You're holding your head up really well, rolling over like a pro, and talking, gurgling, and smiling your way into the hearts of everyone you meet. You are so social and such a charmer! I took you to your two month check up, and you were just delightful, playing on the paper, smiling at the nurse and doctor, and just having a great time. Your big brother still hates sitting on that crinkly paper, but you thought it was just the best thing ever. That's pretty much your reaction to most things, and you are so uplifting to be around!

Your sleeping has been really good. Well, that is, up until the past couple of days. For some reason, you won't stay asleep longer than, oh, 30 minutes unless someone is holding you. Just like when you were a new-newborn. In fact, you should be asleep right now, peacefully swinging away in your room. I'm hoping this is just a temporary setback; normally you will sleep for about 2-3 hours for your longest daytime nap, and then again for 5 hours for the first stretch of nighttime. Maybe you're starting to cut teeth. We can see the beginnings of your two bottom middle teeth already, so this may have something to do with that. The best part of your sleep, though, is the way you wake up. You always wake up smiling, and your huge grin seems to say, "Oh, hi! You're still here! I'm so happy to see you!" It is positively heart-melting!

Your eyes have remained a deep, beautiful blue, and your hair is a gorgeous auburn color. Everyone you meet thinks your hair is just stunning, and it really is. Your cheeks are still chubby and soft and SO, SO kissable. You are one good-looking kid, and your sweetness really shines in those sapphire eyes of yours. I regularly get lost in those eyes; I am a sucker for blue eyes, and I can't think of better luck than living in a house with three blue-eyed boys! I am so, so lucky!

I would really love to write more to you in this letter, but unfortunately I need to cut this one a bit short. Hopefully, I can make up for it later on, but for now I need to shower before you decide you're hungry again. I'm really hoping we can all get some sleep tonight; it was a bit of a rough day, and I think we all need to charge our batteries.

[Edit: After I wrote this, you slept the entire night, a full 7 hours, in your swing. It was the first night since you were born that you didn't sleep in bed with us at all. And, quite frankly, I missed you, kiddo. Mostly because my boobs were so full I thought they would explode, but I definitely missed snuggling with you, too.]

Goodnight, sweetie. I love you more than words can say.

Love,

Mama

Breastfeeding...I wish I'd known

2011-06-22T14:40:00.001-05:00

After having a baby 100% naturally, co-sleeping from the start, and breastfeeding exclusively this time around, I've come to regret nearly every aspect of my first child's birth and early months. I was induced (my OB said it was necessary for medical reasons, but looking back I'm sure it was more because my due date was 2 days before Christmas, and she didn't want to risk ruining her holiday), had an epidural, and had a ridiculous episiotomy. I barely got to hold my baby when he was just born; he spent nights in the nursery; he was given formula and a pacifier in the hospital; the list goes on and on. From there, it was a snowball effect. A lack of information from the doctor, nurses, and lactation consultant led to me giving up on exclusive breastfeeding right from the start because I was convinced I couldn't produce enough and, let's face it, exclusive breastfeeding is hard in the beginning. Unless you are really dedicated and determined, it is all too easy to give in to the convenient temptation that is formula, and that's what I did.

It turns out, however, that formula is not really all that convenient. After getting over my initial anxiety this time around about things like milk supply, exhaustion, and nursing in public, I have come to realize that exclusive breastfeeding is 1,000 times easier than relying on formula and bottles. Easier, healthier, and far more convenient than formula ever was, breastfeeding even makes spit-up and poop far less yucky. And since we co-sleep, I can feed my baby as often as he needs it without ever getting out of bed. This means more sleep for everyone! No dragging ass out of bed four times a night to make a bottle or, worse, getting up and realizing there are no clean bottles. Washing anything at 2 am is not what I call a good time. I never have to buy food for my baby, and I never run out. Our diaper bag is tiny because we don't need to tote much, and I can feed my child anytime and anywhere. And best of all, my baby and I have an amazing bond.

I wish I'd known with my first how wonderful it could be to breastfeed exclusively. I did breastfeed some, and I LOVED it, but because I ignorantly didn't keep up with it as consistently as I should have, my supply dwindled on a steady decline and finally fizzled out when my son was 5 months old. It was then that regret kicked in, as I was not ready to give up that phase of our life. But it was too late.

As it turns out, there are three keys to successfully breastfeeding on an exclusive basis: Nursing VERY often (especially in the beginning), eating well, and drinking LOTS of water. As simple as it sounds, I just never knew; neither of my OBs told me, even when I directly inquired. It took having a midwife to finally get the information and support I needed to succeed. I wish I'd known the first time, but I'm so glad that I get a second chance

Two years ago, I thought the avid breastfeeding advocates were just preachy, judgmental guilt-mongers, but now I understand where they're coming from and have joined their ranks. New mothers, please give it a try. I know it seems really hard in the beginning, but it quickly gets SO much easier. Once you get past the initial shock, it is a truly incredible and endlessly rewarding experience.

Letters to Oliver - Month 2 and Welcome

2011-06-15T20:04:00.001-05:00

Dear Oliver,

Yesterday you turned two months old. I'm sorry that this is only the first time I've written to you, but know that it has been on my mind every day. You are a wonderful addition to our family, and as much as we are truly enjoying having two children, it really does take up most of our time just to stay afloat. And you eat a lot, which makes my free time pretty scarce. But hey, it's totally worth it because that means I get to spend a lot of time with you, which of course I wouldn't trade for anything.

You have been such a joy these past two months. You're laid back and easygoing, and the only time you fuss is when you're hungry, tired, or poopy. Or, of course, if you've been sitting still for too long in a car seat or stroller. Sorry, kiddo, but sometimes we hit a red light or traffic. We can't always be moving!

You are so, so sweet. You love to snuggle, and you have these squishy, soft, irresistibly-kissable cheeks. Oh my god, I love those cheeks! I simply cannot get enough of them! I'd kiss them all day if I could! And you smell so sweetly, even on between-bath days - especially on between-bath days. Your natural scent smells much better than your shampoo. Basically, we can't get enough of you. Will you please stay a baby forever?

As you've gotten older and bigger, you've become so smiley and happy and talkative. You're always observing, wide-eyed, and you love to gaze into our eyes. Your deep blue eyes are piercing and bright, and they draw me in until I'm lost in them. I could not be more thrilled to have another blue-eyed son!

By the way, it has taken me about a week to get this far in this letter - I had to start and stop and start again; I'm on borrowed time! - and now you have a new trick. Today, at almost 10 weeks (in 2 days), you rolled over for the first time! Twice in a row, in fact. And for all the worry I had about possibly missing it, I ended up being the only one home at the time to witness it. Your poor dad has been so excited that he gets to be the stay-at-home parent right from the start with you and not have to miss anything, and lo and behold, he misses the first landmark. I feel for him, but I'm glad I got to see it!

Well, I hear you waking up from your nap, so I have to go get you from your swing. You're probably hungry. You're always hungry! But that also means I get half an hour or more of uninterrupted snuggle time. Yes, please!

Love,

Mama

Oliver's Birth Story

2011-04-30T16:46:00.004-05:00

Oliver is finally here! Many people have been curious and interested in the dynamics of a home birth, and this is how ours went:

My due date, April 6, came and went. I was bloated, cranky, and, yep, still working. The week before, my midwife, Amanda, had offered to sweep my membranes to see if it might help bring on labor, and I, being stubborn and too principled for my own good, declined on the grounds that I wasn't technically "due" quite yet and that I had made up my mind to allow nature to take its own course.

Well, the moment I was overdue, my tune changed, and I reluctantly brushed my precious "principles" aside and asked for the (minor) intervention the day after my due date, knowing that it would either bring on labor or do nothing at all. Nature was still technically in charge - as always. I was still only 2 cm dilated and 70% effaced, so I also asked for some suggestions on other natural ways to bring on labor. So that night, we went out for Indian food, I swallowed 25 red raspberry leaf capsules, and we did the deed - you know, THAT deed. Then we pretty much just crossed our fingers and went to bed.

The next morning, at about 6:55 am, I woke up with really bad stomach pains. I grimaced and thought to myself, "Either this is a contraction (YAY!) or that Indian food last night was a really bad idea..." I waited it out, and when it finally tapered off, I started the process of pushing myself up to a sitting position. As soon as I moved, I felt...moisture. I paused, then continued sitting up. A gush. I was officially awake. "RANDY!" I whispered loudly. "My water just broke!"

And like that, we were up, scurrying around, fumbling for towels and my phone and for last minute plans for what to do with Jude. I texted Amanda to let her know and waited anxiously for further instructions. I didn't have any more contractions like the one that woke me up, so she said to put on a pad and just do normal stuff - eat and drink, walk around, whatever. Not exactly the dramatic scene one would imagine.

We called my mom to come pick up Jude, then called Randy's mom to let her know what was happening. My mom showed up, expecting me to be howling in pain, and I greeted her calmly, still in my pajamas and smiling. Jude hadn't woken up yet, so we just hung out and waited for him. When he finally appeared, bleary eyed, in the hallway, he was surprised to see his Grandma waiting for him, and he got excited when we told him he'd be spending the day at Grandma's house. Before he left, he climbed up in my lap and just sat there and snuggled with me for several minutes with one hand on my huge belly. It was as though he knew what was about to happen, and it was a really sweet moment.

After he left, I decided to time my mild contractions to see where I was in the process. They were all over the place, ranging from a minute long every eight minutes to 30 seconds long every two minutes. with no consistency to speak of. Great. Clearly, it wasn't enough to be two days past my due date, no, I would also be doomed to be in labor all day.

Amanda called later to check up on my progress. When I told her about the lackluster state of my contractions, she said to go for a brisk 30 minute walk. 30 minutes? Brisk? I hadn't been able to walk briskly in months, and now I had to do it while having contractions and gushing water? Uggghhhhh. So I did my best, walking hand in hand with Randy up and down our street, groaning in pain with each stupid, irregular contraction. I made it to 20 minutes before begging to stop. The morning was warm and uncomfortably humid, and I just couldn't do it anymore. So we went home to get some food and water and rest.

The contractions didn't change much in regularity, but they were definitely getting more painful. Timing them only frustrated me, so I gave up and we spent our time in leisurely conversation and relaxation, pausing to get through contractions. I remarked that if we'd decided on a hospital birth, they would be pushing Pitocin on me right about then, and I was once again reminded of how happy I was that we'd chosen a home birth.

A few hours later, with still very little in the way of progress, Amanda called and said she would head over to see what we could do to speed things up. She checked me to see how things were going, and in one of her many wonderful midwife tricks, she announced, "You were a 4. Now you're a 7." Evidently, my cervix was feeling cooperative and she was able to open it up manually. I'd never even heard of that, but needless to say, I was thrilled. Then, after swallowing a dozen red raspberry leaf capsules, it was time for another Torture Walk. This time, the contractions were far more painful. One even lasted from halfway down one side of the street through halfway up the other side. That one was the worst and was the only one to actually make me cry in pain.

When we got back to the house, my contractions kept on coming, though still irregularly. Ever the perfectionist, I was annoyed that they weren't the textbook labor contractions I'd expected, but leave it to me to be the exception rather than the rule. Before long, though, Amanda was encouraging me to push a little with each one, to see if it might ease the pain, which it did. Another wonderful little trick.

At that point, we decided to go ahead and fill up the birthing tub. I undressed and put on a tankini top - I had to keep SOME dignity, after all - and climbed in. Unfortunately, our water heater isn't huge and the water wasn't very warm, and I quickly learned that it is extremely difficult to breathe slowly and deeply through a contraction when you're practically shivering in a tub of tepid water. Not super helpful. So after one contraction in the tub, I climbed right back out and went back to the living room, in just a wet tankini top and a towel, to continue getting through the contractions that seemed to have no end in sight.

It wasn't long, however, before I started feeling the urge to push, and I decided I'd really prefer to lie in bed rather than continue on hands and knees. First I tried the side-lying position and did NOT like it. One contraction and I was done there. So Randy piled pillows at the head of the bed so I could lie in a reclining position, and I found that to be the most comfortable. During the weeks that we'd been planning our home birth, I'd imagined what I might do during this stage. After spending the majority of my late pregnancy feeling extra irritable and, frankly, bitchy, I figured I would probably - regrettably - wind up snapping or yelling at my husband. But that wasn't the case at all. In fact, I never sent so much as a single wayward dirty look at Randy as he coached me, encouraged me, and took care of me. Instead, I spent this stage of labor seeking reassurance that it would be over soon and thinking that Amanda and Randy were lying to me every time they said it would be. In fact, when they told me they could see Oliver's head, I responded, "Really? Are you sure?" It felt like his head should have been visible, but I couldn't believe it was really happening. At one point, it felt as though his head had gone back inside, which probably isn't even possible, but I had to ask, "Did he go back in?! It really feels like he went back in! Please tell me the truth! Are you absolutely sure you can still see him?" They both had to hold back their laughter.

I pushed for what felt like forever. Every push was exhausting and I was beginning to feel defeated, as though I would never get through it. I kept saying, "I can't do it anymore! I just can't!" I started feeling like I might pass out, and Randy had to hold an oxygen tube by my face. At one point I thought to myself, 'If I had an epidural right now, I wouldn't even be feeling this pain!' But in an instant I remembered how much I hated getting the epidural with Jude, how painful it was, and how feeling all of my childbirth was what I wanted, what I'd deliberately chosen. And in that moment I felt a renewed sense of power. This was my choice. And I could do it. And I did. After what seemed like 100 pushes, it felt like his head was halfway out, and I was almost there. I suddenly got a break in contractions, and I asked if I could reach down and feel his head. Silly question - of course I could! I reached down, and there he was. I could feel his thick, wet hair as I cupped my hand around the top of his head. I will forever cherish that amazing moment. Time seemed to stand still as I marveled at the knowledge that I was about to meet my sweet little boy at last, and I suddenly felt renewed energy and power and looked forward to the next contraction so I could give a final push. And in keeping with the rest of my labor, it seemed like forever before that next contraction hit. I even had time, in typical Keri fashion, to exclaim, annoyed, "Where is it?! What's taking the stupid contraction so long?!" When it finally decided to grace me with its presence, I pushed with everything I had. I was so desperate to hold my baby and be done with this torture that I was not about to let another minute go by if I could possibly help it. I pushed, growling loudly, squeezing and pulling on Randy's hand, digging deep within myself to summon up every ounce of strength left in me. Then I felt intense pain, followed by intense relief. It was done. He was here. I did it!!!

Oliver Conde Hampton was born on April 8 at 8:28 pm. He weighed 9 pounds 2 ounces, was 21 inches long, and had a 14 1/4 inch head that was full of long hair. He was goopy and bloody and beautiful. He announced his arrival with a robust cry before being wrapped in our softest towel and placed into my arms, alert and ready for the world. He had all 10 fingers and all 10 toes, chubby cheeks, hair just like his brother's, a nose just like mine. It was love at first sight. He was perfect, and his life got off to a great start, right here at home.

No epidural?! blink blink

2011-03-01T14:34:00.002-06:00

I've gotten interesting reactions to the news that I will be having a natural, unmedicated home birth. To help clear up some of the mystery, here are the answers to some frequently asked questions.

Q: "You're not going to the hospital? Do you still get an epidural?"
A: An epidural requires an anesthesiologist. Last time I checked, anesthesiologists didn't make house calls.

Q: "So...no epidural?" *confused and frightened expression*
A: No epidural. I really don't see why this is a big deal to people. Interestingly, the people who seem the most concerned are those who have never given birth themselves. I've had an epidural before, and I'm not interested in having one ever again. Sure, they can be nice for masking the pain, but they're certainly no miracle. I found getting an epidural to be both excruciatingly painful and a major hindrance. Plus, it made me itch and my legs were numb hours after the birth was completed. Annoying!

Q: "I'm really worried that you'll be at home. What if something happens or a complication arises?"
A: Okay. Let's clear something up. Just because I'm having a home birth does not mean I'm banned from the hospital. We live in the suburbs. There are a handful of hospitals within minutes of our home. If something adverse happens, we go to the hospital. As in any emergency, we can either call an ambulance or hop in the car and go. Pretty simple. No big deal!

Q: "Aren't you scared that it will hurt?"
A: Again, this seems to be mostly a concern of people who have never given birth. Basically, it's going to hurt no matter what. End of story. So no, I'm not scared of the pain. It will be worth it in the end. Also, studies have shown that when a woman labors at home, the pain isn't as severe because she is more relaxed and comfortable in her normal environment. She won't have nurses constantly interrupting her concentration, and she is free to do whatever helps her cope the best. That sounds way less scary to me than the alternative.

Q: "What's so bad about the hospital anyway?"
A: When I had my first child, I was very tense and uncomfortable in the hospital, and I felt like I had no choice in how anything played out. I also felt very on-display, and as a very private person, that was torturous to me. My doctor threatened me with a C-section without a valid reason. I was forced to labor on my back the entire time, was forced to push while on my back - both work against gravity and are the least effective - and was never given any other options. I had a ridiculously large (and, I think, unnecessary) episiotomy - getting stitched up was torturously painful (despite the almighty epidural - see, not a miracle cure!) and the recovery was quite difficult. I was forced to wear a blood pressure cuff that engaged every 5 minutes for the entire 12 hours, leaving me with bruises on my arm. After my son was born, I was awakened every hour during the night to have my blood pressure taken. A nurse woke me up at 2 am that first night to talk to me about newborn safety and who knows what else before she would hand my baby over to me to breastfeed. The same nurse gave him his first bath, which was captured on video, and she was quite rough with him. I can't even watch it without tearing up (in a bad way). I could go on and on. And guess what? Not a single one of those things will happen at home. Not one.

Q: "Are you doing this home birth thing just to save money?"
A: While it IS cheaper, that is not one of our main reasons. We do have insurance. The financial aspect wasn't a factor in our decision. But I certainly won't complain about it, either!

Q: "Are you going to have your family or friends present while you're in labor?"
A: No. Only my husband and our midwife will be present.

Q: "Will your older child stay for the birth?"
A: Probably not. If everything happens in the middle of the night while he's asleep, we'll just let him sleep. No need to wake him if we don't have to. Otherwise, we will have one of his grandparents come pick him up.

Q: "Will you want visitors?"
A: Yes! But not right away. We will let people know when we are ready. We will ask that visitors be respectful and call before heading over and that they not stay late into the evening. Bonus points if they bring a healthy meal with them!

Q: "Are you nervous?"
A: Not at all! I'm excited and enthusiastic. I think it's going to be an incredible and empowering experience, and I'm really looking forward to it!

I think that takes care of the main questions. I've also told people that if they're really curious about the ins and outs of home births versus hospital births, they should watch the documentary The Business of Being Born. There are also plenty of resources online. Thank you and goodnight!

Greetings from Outside the Norm

2011-02-08T22:26:00.001-06:00

Well, well, well, guess who found another way to be an outcast? That's right! The Hampton family strikes again. We figured we're already non-religious residents of the Bible Belt, non-football fans in Football Country, mostly-vegetarian in Meatloversville, a working mom and willing stay-at-home dad in Conservative Gender Roles, USA, and liberals in Texas - well hell, what do we have to lose? We might as well also forego the typical hospital birth we'd planned on and go with a home birth!

Yep. No hospital for me. And guess what? I could not be more excited! As expected, our decision has been met with varying degrees of skepticism and plenty of opinions - luckily, the only people we have to answer to are ourselves, and we're supportive of ourselves and of each other. Problem solved! I've always been the type of person to do things my own way. Generally, the more important something is, the less I want someone else telling me how to do it, and I am not easily swayed. We've done our research, given it a lot of thought, and decided that a home birth is undoubtedly what we want. We're not crazy, certainly not stupid, and not weird - well, maybe a little weird, but that was established long ago. I wish I'd known before what I know now; if I could go back I would totally have had Jude at home, too. But hey, you live and learn. My biggest mistake was not educating myself on my choices. Lived. Learned.

So there you have it. Maybe people around here can relate to us even less now! Woo! It's not easy being different, but it's the only way I know how to be.

Letters to Jude - Month 24

2010-12-14T12:44:00.001-06:00

Dear Jude,

Holy cheesecake, Batman! You just turned 2! Where did the time go?

I took a four-day weekend for your birthday this past weekend, and we had so much fun and such a great party! Last year's party was chaos because there were, oh, 40 people crammed into our cozy little house. This year, we planned a little better and had a much more manageable group of about 20. Yeah, pat on the back for us, it was WAY better and not claustrophobia-inducing. You had the best time playing with your friend Noah and opening presents and, of course, eating cake! We don't feed you sugar very often, so when you get your hands on it, watch out world. It's always fun to see you get so excited, so it's kind of nice that sugary things are a real treat for you and not just a daily part of life.

When I got home from work yesterday I swear you seemed bigger, older. Your hair fell in a different way. Your face seemed more mature. And while you have always given us these knowing looks and nods, it seemed yesterday like you really DID know. It's hard to explain, but you truly did strike me as older; it was kind of surreal. Of course, you're still my sweet little guy, snuggly and loving and never running out of hugs and kisses, although sometimes you like to pretend you don't like giving them out, and we have to chase you down and steal them or bribe you with something you want. You're the silliest kid, always entertaining people with anything that pops into your head, whether it's funny expressions, singing, jumping around, spinning until you're dizzy, saying funny things, or any combination of the above. You love an audience, and your audiences always love you.

You got some pretty darn awesome presents for your birthday. Usually, toys don't really keep your attention for too long, but these toys, wow! It turns out your active mind has far surpassed the toys geared towards the under-two crowd, but these toys for ages two and up are right up your alley. I'll admit, most of them are noisy. But when you've been playing intently with them for several minutes, the noise is totally worth it. I love seeing the gears turn in your mind as you play with these more grown-up toys, and you love the new toys so much that they're the first thing you want to do in the morning, even before getting a cup of milk, which just a week ago took precedence over everything else. You usually wake up first in the morning, and now you'll call to us from your room, "Mama! Dada! Ga poop (ball hoop)?" It's pretty hard to resist getting up for that! In fact, you are so enthralled with the new toys that you have refused to willingly eat or get changed or go to bed because you're having too much fun with them. It's pretty awesome, except for when we really do need to get you changed right then, and you're throwing a fit because you want to keep playing basketball or playing with your workbench.

You have quite the repertoire of words now, but you're still working on pronunciation. As a result, some of your words and phrases come out sounding pretty funny and require a great deal of interpretation to nail down what you're trying to say. You've gotten good at using gestures to show us what you're saying when we don't quite understand the words, but I imagine it must be frustrating to try to tell us something over and over only to be met with increasingly confused looks. But as the following examples show, it's not entirely our fault:

"Ga" = Ball, and anything rhyming with ball
"Lala" = Elmo
"Tora-teeya-poop" = Tortilla soup
"Gaga poop" = Basketball hoop
"Teetee" = Pee, kitty
Pretending to chew with your mouth closed = Oatmeal
Wiggling your jaw side to side = Raisins (no idea where you got that)
"Geese" = Please
"Di-du" = Thank you
"Gook" = Milk
"Kraka gook" = Graham crackers and milk
"Ooh ooh" = Dog
"Ooh ah ah" = Monkey
"Ee-haw" = Donkey
"Yee-haw" = Horse or wanting to ride on our back or legs like a horse
"Teet teet" = Bird
"Beppo" = Hippo
"Jaff" = Giraffe
"Ssssss" = Snake, lizard
"Rawr" = Lion, tiger, bear, shark, monster, anything ferocious
"Eee" = I want that
"Oh" while shaking your head = No
"Bop" = Stop
"Ish" = Shoes
"Gock" = Socks, blocks
"Geda" = Pizza, Santa, panda
"Gedu" = Lotion
"Bubbue dath" = Bubble bath

See?

We recently took you to the zoo for the first time, and you LOVED IT. In fact, we were there for five hours, three of which were past your nap time, but you never showed that you were tired. You kept right on trucking, never getting whiny or grumpy. You loved all the animals and studied them intently. One of your favorites was the giraffes, which walked up to a platform where you could stand at their head level. They weren't shy, and one was close enough to lick Daddy's hand, which it did. Another favorite was the snakes, and you would put your face right up the glass so that you were nose to nose with them. You even saw some large lizards being fed rats, and you weren't the least bit fazed. You also really enjoyed the petting area, where you got to pet a pony, a bunny, and a bunch of goats. For some reason, you had been scouring the zoo for a donkey, periodically calling out "Ee-haw! Ee-haw!" So when we finally found one in this area you were pretty thrilled.

Last week we took you to Santa's Village, a place that Daddy and I had gone to as kids ourselves. The whole place is decked out in lights and little houses with different activities. You loved it! Your favorite house was the one with the puppies and ducks, although you were too shy of the girls holding the puppies to actually pet them. Just outside was a little petting area with some goats and a bunny. Having already experienced these animals firsthand at the zoo, you weren't timid at all and went right for the goats, petting them gently but without a shred of fear. Then you about-faced and headed for the bunny, then squatted down and patted its soft fur just as gently. You have a way with animals, rather unlike most kids your age, and surprising given that we don't have any pets.

You have been loving the Christmas season, with all the lights and Christmas trees. Funny thing is, though, that you refuse to call it Christmas. Rather, it's "Ah-heen boo." As in Halloween. Apparently, Halloween really left an impression on you, probably because we had a great time. You trick-or-treated like a pro, once again seeming far too savvy for your age. You got quite a haul of candy for such a little guy, but don't worry, we "helped" you eat it. You were adorable in your monkey costume, and even though it was warm for late October and you were sweating under the fuzzy costume, you never complained or even whined.

You have been such a trooper, and I am so proud of you and continually amazed by how adaptable you are. You are quite a kid, and I could not be more thrilled to call you my son. I know there are some big changes ahead for you, but you have been so good at going with the flow and so wonderfully cheerful that I know you'll get through them just fine, and you will be an incredible big brother. In the meantime, though, I will cherish these last few months as a family of three and enjoy my one little Snuggle Bug.

Love,

Mama

This day and age

2010-12-05T21:13:00.001-06:00

Technology is great. I'm not going to argue that it isn't. However, with the arrival of the technology of today, the manners of yesterday fly right out the window. I'm not talking about proper etiquette like which fork to eat salad with (who cares?) or the proper way to introduce two people to each other (although I still fumble with that one). No, I'm talking about common-decency manners. They're gone.

For example, answering an invitation with an RSVP - even by texting - seems to have fallen by the wayside. People keep each other hanging by a thread until the last minute, when the host, in an attempt to get even a guess at a head count, has to go out of his or her way to drag out an answer. And don't even get me started on texting itself. I find it incredibly rude and off-putting to be hanging out with somebody just to watch them incessantly text other people and have to hear their obnoxious text tone over and over. Silence your phone and put it down. You are in the physical presence of real, breathing human beings who are trying to enjoy your company, but you're making it awfully difficult. It's hard to enjoy being with someone when you keep imagining how gratifying it would be to punch them in the face. (While visiting the coast, I once fantasized about yanking a certain someone's phone out of their hand and throwing it in the ocean while cackling maniacally. To this day, I kind of wish I had actually done it.) And people who talk on their cell phones while in a public bathroom? Unforgivable. Also, gross and confusing. With all the toilets around you flushing, do you really think the person on the other end doesn't know you're in the bathroom? Do you think they want to hear everything that's going on? I don't get it. I have had people talk to me on the phone while they're in the bathroom, and it's gross and decidedly non-classy. And for the people who are physically present, it's just cause for giving you a swirlie, then flushing your phone down the toilet. And I would applaud them.

I guess with so much technology around, people have lost the ability to think about things from another perspective. They're so wrapped up with their pointless text conversations ("What are you up to? Nothing, how about you? Nothing much, working. Ah." Seriously, WHAT'S THE POINT?!), what they're going to post as their status on Facebook, or taking self-portraits with their camera phones that they've all but lost track of the concept of, you know, other people.

And I'm not old. I'm not sitting on my porch in a rickety rocking chair shaking my cane at those crazy kids and their newfangled electronic devices. Especially because it's not just the kids - it's also my peers, my elders, and everyone in between. It's like everyone has lost their minds! Where is common decency, and how do we get it back? Or do we ever get it back? My fear is that there is no turning back now, and I'm doomed to be forever embittered by nearly everyone around me. Please say it isn't so.

Updates and such

2010-11-08T14:12:00.000-06:00

So it's been awhile. I know.

Jude turns 2 next month and I'm in total shock about it. He is so big and active and verbal, and so not a baby anymore. And hey, we've made it 2 years as parents! Which is more shocking, I haven't decided yet.

To celebrate, we're having another baby. Heck, we've made it 2 years intact with one, let's throw another into the mix and see what happens! We like to keep things interesting. I'm just about 19 weeks along, and Baby Hampton #2 will be joining us in April. We have 5 months left as a family of 3, and I get all teary-eyed just thinking about it - both for the changes ahead and the dynamics we'll be leaving behind. Thanks, pregnancy hormones!

Speaking of hormones, people keep asking the typical pregnancy questions: How are you feeling? What are you craving? Here is my answer: I feel tired and I'm craving a massage and a nap. Isn't that how all pregnant women feel?

Food for thought.

2010-08-03T12:55:00.000-05:00

Over the past year or so, I have lost 51 pounds. People ask me, incredulously, all the time, "How did you do it?" And I can't help but give them a confused look and pause for an awkwardly long moment before replying because I'm not sure what exactly they're expecting to hear. Like maybe they think I have a MIRACLE method that they've never heard of! So I usually manage to stammer, "I counted calories and exercised..?" To me, it's...just...obvious. It's a long-established fact that reducing calorie intake and exercising leads to weight loss. This isn't breaking science. It's then that my suspicions are confirmed, because their eyes will glaze over and they'll look disgusted that it took actual work. Yes, I had to make life changes. I had to take it seriously. It wasn't always easy. There was no miracle. And it took a YEAR. No thanks, they think. Then they go buy some ridiculous exercise system they saw on an infomercial or pay hundreds of dollars to eat crappy, overpriced, processed "meals" that promise results, and are shocked - SHOCKED - when they haven't reached their goal by month's end.

These are the people that jump from one fad diet to another, the ones who buy every gimmicky piece of exercise equipment they can find because they don't want to change. They're in denial that they could possibly be doing anything wrong, and they don't want to take responsibility for their actions or face reality. These are the people who will probably never reach their weight loss goals. Because guess what? You can't eat a bucket of fried chicken for lunch and expect to lose weight by using a Bowflex for 5 minutes. Shocking, I know.

I had to make real changes. I thought I was eating "healthy," but I was wrong. Once I counted up the calories, I was blown away by how far off my estimates were. But once I faced facts and realized how off base I was, I came up with a plan and cut way down. However, I've known people who have decided to count up their calories in a given day, and then instead of using that valuable information to make changes, they denied that it could possibly be true. No way did I eat that many calories, they think to themselves. This amount isn't right. And do you know what they do? Nothing. They stay in denial, thinking maybe if they hope or pray hard enough, the weight will disappear overnight. It's not going to happen.

It IS possible to achieve this goal. Everyone is capable of it. But if you're not willing to change anything, then that possibility disappears, and you are doomed to failure. And that is reality.

Surprise!

2010-03-30T12:14:00.001-05:00

Although I used to be endlessly optimistic and positive, I've found myself to be increasingly negative, whiny, and a bit crotchety in my "old" age. People were getting under my skin far more than I should have allowed, and the political atmosphere of our country was bogging me down.

It hit me one day how tired I was of complaining, of forgetting how insanely lucky I am, and of being already so jaded at such a young age, and I was determined to get my optimism back. So a few weeks ago, I decided to forget about politics, ignore complaints and urges to engage in arguments, refuse to get annoyed at things that don't matter, see the good in people, and acknowledge everyday all the wonderful things I have going for me. I found that it really wasn't hard at all. The stress lifted. I began to see people in a more positive light. I had more patience and less stubborn indignation. Life was good and I felt like a better person.

Then, suddenly, I found myself getting annoyed again. People's actions and behaviors started getting under my skin. I started resenting people. Bad manners and thoughtless words and uncaring attitudes were suddenly all I was seeing. Maybe it was coincidence and I just happened to encounter too many rude people in a row. It's possible. But I have another theory.

Over the past several weeks, I've been making a concerted effort to eat healthier, exercise more, and generally treat myself well. And with the arrival of spring, I have made sure to get lots of fresh air and time outside. Around that time is also when I decided to make my triumphant return to optimism. This past week, however, we had several social commitments in a row, including restaurants, birthday cakes, and Easter candy. Because we were so busy, I didn't find time to exercise. And because the weather was chilly and super windy, I didn't get any time outside. So when I encountered rudeness or annoying behaviors, I bristled and got huffy. I swear my blood pressure went up; I got red and hot in the face and wanted to just get away. I was short with my husband, and I felt crappy for it. Basically, my zen was gone. I'd lost it.

Yesterday, as I was thinking about all of this, I recognized the pattern, and it all started to make sense. Having felt frazzled and frustrated all day, I decided to have a super healthy dinner and pledged to exercise. And luckily Jude played along and was an angel in spite of cutting several molars this week. He even went to sleep quickly and easily and stayed asleep for the first time in awhile. And by the end of the night, after a healthy dinner of broiled fish, salad, and sauteed spinach; playtime and cuddling with Jude; and a workout consisting of biking, running, and jumping rope outside while listening to music I love, my zen had returned. I felt calmer, more peaceful, and, yes, more optimistic.

I guess I'm a little late to the game in realizing this phenomenon, but it's better late than never! While it's not exactly an epiphany, it's definitely an insight for myself that I can hold on to. When I feel the negativity creeping up again, I'll know just what to do.

Letters to Jude - Month 14

2010-02-23T13:03:00.000-06:00

Dear Jude,

You may have noticed that I skipped Month 13. I couldn't decide whether to stop the letters after a year, then before I knew it the month had already passed me by. Whoops. Funny thing is, I did decide to stop after a full year of letters, but now I've changed my mind as I find myself already forgetting some of the things I really wanted to remember. So here I am again.

You are literally BURSTING with personality! Oh my god! Although I've always considered myself a definite introvert, I most definitely did not give birth to one, that's for sure. You love attention, thrive on it. All you need is an audience, and you're ON. You will crack up an entire room full of people like it's nothing. Is it sad that I envy this skill of yours? It is, it definitely is sad, but it's true nonetheless. You love people, and people love you - shy, you are not!

You've added some amusing new skills to your ensemble, the most fun of which is bouncing on your foam climbing blocks. The first time you did this was a couple weeks ago when we were winding down for the evening, the night before we were to leave for San Antonio to visit your great-great-grandfather. You suddenly got this wave of energy, and I pulled out your big climbing blocks to see if I could get you interested in them. You plopped down on the big square one, then quickly stood back up, then plopped back down. "You're bouncing!" I exclaimed. "Bounce, bounce, bounce!" And you got this big, silly grin as you realized I was encouraging you to do it more, and you started bouncing up and down, standing up all the way each time. You bounced this way for a couple minutes, then slowly, as I'm sure your legs started to feel the burn, you started coming up off the block less and less, until you were just sitting there, bouncing without your bum ever leaving the block. But you were determined to keep bouncing, cracking up the entire time, and you kept going and going. And you've done it ever since; it is one of your favorite games!

You've also started taking after your Aunt Eva this month, climbing up on your rocking horse and standing on it like one of those circus performers that stand on horses' backs as they gallop around. She did the exact same thing when she was your age. You'll look at us the entire time you're climbing up there, as though you're daring us to stop you. You're such a cheeky little thing; you KNOW when you're doing something you shouldn't, and that knowledge just makes you want to do it MORE. You're thrilled when you get away with something, but when you don't....geeeez. You'd think we cut off a toe the way you carry on! Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn!

As I mentioned above, we went to San Antonio recently. It's a long drive, about 5 hours, and I was dreading it for fear that you'd hate it. You do fine in the car, generally, in fact you seem to enjoy it and usually fall asleep. But after awhile, enough is enough, and when you've had your fill you are DONE. And I get it. I'm not a fan of road trips, either, to tell the truth. But you were an angel the whole way there. I'd also had anxiety about our stay there since lately you've presented somewhat of a challenge at bedtime. But again, you breezed through it like it was nothing - AND you took a marathon 2 hour nap! Hello? Can you try that at home, please? You did, unfortunately, trip and fall on an large, etched terra cotta pot and scraped your face pretty badly. It really looked like it hurt! And because of the etching, it looked like a tiger got a swipe at you. Hey, I guess you did get something from me - my grace! Or, ahem, lack thereof.

Sorry about that.

Love,

Mommy

Something's missing

2010-02-03T12:21:00.000-06:00

The social aspect of being an adult is hard. How do you meet new people when you're not in school, don't attend church, and work in a place where clients are confidential?

It seems like every time I do meet someone I initially get along with, there's some barrier to actually being real friends. Like, they're super religious and try to force their views on me every time we talk. Or maybe they're a client with whom I could never hang out because of ethical reasons. Or they're too much younger or older than I am for us to really be able to relate to each other. Or perhaps they're just so busy or popular that they couldn't possibly squeeze in one more friend. Or they're totally fake initially and we end up having nothing in common after all.

And some friendships simply grow apart, and one day you realize you're strangers with nothing left to say.

Sigh.

I used to think that family was all that mattered. Friends come and go, but your family sticks with you, that's how it had always been. And as important as family is, I now realize that friends are important, too, essential even - but now I can't seem to find many.

C'est la vie, I guess.

Letters to Jude - Month 12

2010-01-02T15:31:00.000-06:00

Dear Jude,

Happy first birthday! I can't believe your first year has already passed. Where does the time go?

As always, you have continued to delight us with your sunny personality and your continually expanding sense of humor. You have a wide range of funny faces. One of our favorites is when you give us a death stare and slowly tilt your head down while keeping your eyes on us. You'll hold this for a minute, giving us this dirty look while never breaking eye contact, then suddenly lift your head and laugh as if to say "GOTCHA!" You love an audience and will do anything to get a laugh. The harder we laugh at you, the harder you laugh at yourself, and so it goes in a giggly cycle for several minutes. You are like our own personal entertainer!

On your actual birthday, you had your very first cupcake, and from the way you dove into it and devoured the ENTIRE THING, I started to wonder if you'd been practicing for this moment. You'd never had much sugar before as we don't feed you junk food, but it didn't even phase you. You LOVED it, and probably would have eaten another one if given the chance. You weren't shy in the least about getting messy, either. Some kids your age hate getting stuff on their hands, but you mashed the cupcake and icing together in one big yellow mush-ball, then licked it off your fingers, smeared it on your face, and got it in your hair, smiling all the time. If you knew how to talk, I imagine you'd have been exclaiming, "This is AWESOME!" over and over. After a quick bath to wash off the sticky yellow mush, it was time for you to open your present from us, and you again surprised us with the way you seemed to know what you were doing; you jumped right into tearing off the paper and handing it to Daddy, piece by piece. I think you must get that from him; that ability to do something for the first time and somehow know exactly how it works. I've always been envious of him for that ability, so I hope he has passed that on to you because it is really quite advantageous!

Your birthday party was truly a spectacle. We've never had much luck managing to round up many people for our birthdays, but you packed the house! I don't have an official head count, but I'd estimate a crowd of about 40. 40! Our house is on the small side, but it has never felt smaller than it did on that day. There was barely room to walk, and forget about finding a place to sit. It was amazing! I wasn't sure how you would handle such a large group. With so many people wanting to hold you and all the noise, I was sure that overstimulation was inevitable. However, you took it all in with ease and grace, and it didn't seem to bother you at all. You are definitely a people person, and your friendliness and charm makes you a people MAGNET. That's a quality you've always had, and one that I hope will stay with you, as a personality like that will take you far in life. And in case you're wondering, those people added up to a mountain of presents larger than I've ever seen. It took some time to open them all, but you were a total champ and you were very patient. You got quite a haul; beautiful clothes, fun toys, and snuggly blankets. You are totally set! For now.

You are walking really well now and you zoom around the house like you have rockets on your feet. You're always on the move and your favorite game is running around the couch, especially if we chase you on our hands and knees. Around and around and around the couch you'll run, giggling the whole time and squealing with delight when we catch and tickle you. It's also the best way to wear you out in the evening; the harder you play, the better you sleep. So it's a win/win game, which is always good. There are no losers, except maybe our knees.

Your Dad just told me that I should just write, "Long story short, you're 12 months old and you're really cute." Ok, I'm not known for my brevity, but he does raise another good point. You are really, REALLY cute. People stop us all the time to tell us how cute you are; your gorgeous head of hair; your huge, bright blue eyes; your big, toothy grin; your long eyelashes; and your sweet little face. A couple weeks ago, a teenage girl passed us at the mall and we heard her say, "Oh my god, he looks like a little model!" Another stranger at a coffee shop suggested we enter you in a Baby Gap model contest she'd seen recently. It's become so common for us now that we're used to it, but not a day goes by that we don't stop and stare at you ourselves and marvel over what a beautiful son we have, inside and out, and how lucky we are. I'm pretty sure there have never been two luckier people than your Dad and me. Whatever we did to deserve such a wonderful little person in our lives, it must have been something good.

Happy birthday, my sweet Jude-Bug.

Love,

Mommy

Letters to Jude - Month 11

2009-11-18T12:04:00.000-06:00

Dear Jude,

Last week you turned 11 months old. I apologize for being a little late writing this, but I've been busy watching you walk, taking you for your first big-boy haircut, and planning your first birthday party. I KNOW.

Walking. That's right. You've basically mastered it, though you do still default to crawling when in doubt, and it is nothing short of magnificent. And totally adorable. You toddle around with your arms up over your head, attempting to walk in a straight line but inevitably veering off to the side. You wouldn't pass a sobriety test, for sure, but it gets you where you want to go. Sometimes you even attempt running, and the look of pride and glee on your face when you SPRINT across the living room says it all: Mom and Dad, LIFE AS YOU KNOW IT IS OVER. And then you climb onto the ottoman, cross over onto the chair, and then scale the table as we watch dumbfounded.

You are talking up a storm, and in addition to just rambling sounds and saying "dada" and "mama", you've added grunting to your repertoire, and you use grunting primarily to get us to give you more finger food or bites of our dinner. Kind of like a begging puppy, your grunting gets louder and more frantic until we give you another bite of a baked potato FROM OUR PLATE or another handful of Cheerios on your high chair tray. Grunting is a pretty good method of communication for you, as people tend to grunt back and engage you in a little grunting conversation. You've also developed your sense of humor considerably, and you find all kinds of things hilarious - especially silly faces and songs and facial expressions that make Mom and Dad look ridiculous. And maybe a little "special."

Another new trick up your sleeve is clapping, and you clap at everything. You clap when we clap, or even when we say "Yay!" - or I can just say "Clap!" and you'll start clapping. AMAZING. You've connected a word with an action, and YOU ARE SO GOING TO HARVARD. You also applaud at the end of a bottle, that's my favorite. We've also managed to morph your clapping skill into a high five trick. You're just about to the point that if we say "Give me five!" and hold out a hand, you'll hit it several times. Like, FIVE? TRY 30! SEE IF YOU CAN HANDLE THAT!

We've also coaxed you into waving bye-bye, and in traditional Jude fashion, you've managed to make it 100 times more adorable than it would normally be by bending your wrist at a 90 degree angle and waving BACKWARDS. A unique child you are, and I would have it no other way. You melt the hearts of strangers, entertain us to no end, and make our days immeasurably better than we ever thought they could be. Unique is good, and "good" can only begin to describe life with you.

Love,

Mommy

Letters to Jude - Month 10

2009-10-15T09:27:00.003-05:00

Dear Jude,

Holy cow, you turned 10 months old this week! You're growing so fast it's making my head spin, and while yes, I have known for quite some time that 10 follows 9, it somehow still manages to boggle my mind that you're 10 months old. You've been on the outside longer than you lived on the inside! And it's my belly I'm talking about, though it did sound like I was referring to prison.

This point was driven home, in capital letters, with exclamation points! a couple of weekends ago when YOU. TOOK. YOUR. FIRST. STEPS!!!!!! I had been so afraid of missing this milestone, and it turned out that I was the only one there to witness it! And it was amazing! You had been standing alone really well, cruising with ease, and walking while holding our hands, and I knew your first steps were just around the corner. But when I saw you let go of the ottoman you were holding onto and take a step towards my outstretched hands, I'm pretty sure my heart stopped for a split second as I processed the fact that my baby, the sweet, tiny baby boy I brought home from the hospital, had just taken his very first step, the first among many that he will take throughout his life. You took that one step and then fell into my arms for a bear hug, and my heart nearly exploded with love and excitement. That was a good day.

I know every parent probably says this about their child, but kid, you are hilarious. And I don't mean "oh how funny, he pulled the cat's ear" - I mean HILARIOUS. You have these priceless facial expressions that always seem so appropriate for the situation, like you fully understand what's going on and what's being said. And you play hide and seek! It's the cutest thing; one of us will get your attention and start crawling towards a hiding spot, making sure you see us, and you will get this huge grin on your face and start crawling at top speed to come find us. As soon as you see us, you start laughing and squealing as you haul ass over to your favorite hiding spot behind the green chair by the window, and then it's our turn to find you. CUTEST. THING. EVER! And also? When somebody says "OW!" you mock them with a silly yell of your own. We discovered this one day when your Dad decided to pin me down on the floor and tickle me, and you thought it appropriate to crawl across my face. "OWWW!" I shrieked while laughing, and as you crawled off my face and away, you belted out "AAAAGGHHHH!!" And you have done it ever since, and I have totally encouraged it because how hilarious is a baby who mocks people in pain?! You've also begun to shake your head side to side, sometimes randomly but often in response to someone else doing it. One night, you were refusing to go to sleep in your crib (what happened to sleeping through the night I still haven't figured out) and I was sitting in your rocking chair, watching you stand up in your crib and grin at me. "Jude," I said gently, "it's time for sleep." And you shook your head with that big grin. Trying not to laugh, I insisted, "Yes it is, it's time for you to lay down." Another head shake. "Yes, you need to go to sleep." A third head shake. Well if there's not a truer sign that you're my son. You were arguing with me! At 10 months! Stubborn, insistent, strong-willed, argumentative....yep, you're my son all right. And I'm in big trouble.

Your big personality is coupled with pretty big ambitions for such a little guy. In addition to trying to dive off of furniture and delighting in hanging upside down, you have added climbing to your repertoire. Oh, the climbing. On everything. My little monkey, you've managed to get into some interesting spots, including scaling your high chair and stroller, hanging off the storage table, and climbing over the ottoman and onto the fireplace. When you come across anything in your path, you will always choose climbing over it in favor of crawling around it. And diaper and clothing changes? You have other plans in mind, and it has now become a game of Twist and Shout. You twist onto your tummy and shout when we turn you back over. The only way to get your diaper (and some outfits) on you is to lay you on your back, but you HATE it! So the Twist and Shout cycle continues like clockwork, and we often have to team up for a simple change. One to distract you (or just hold you still if you're being particularly difficult) and one to do the actual changing. Holding still is not your thing, but you're still the sweetest kid around.

You are growing into a more and more extraordinary child, and people just can't help but love you. You're friendly, good-natured, patient, sweet, funny, and, of course, cute as can be. Every day I am so proud of what a great kid I've got. It's a wonderful feeling knowing that everyone loves being around you, and that at the end of the day, I'm the one who gets to tuck you into bed, the one you reach for when you're upset, and the one who gets to call you my son. I am so lucky.

Love,

Mommy

In the Garden

2009-10-01T12:06:00.003-05:00

I'm a little disappointed to report that I still have not planted anything new and fall is already underway. Shame on me! Maybe I'll work on that this weekend. I finally cleared out the morning glory that had somehow found its way into my veggie garden. I made the mistake of letting it stay, thinking it would look neat to have a shower of the pretty flower-covered vines next to my bell peppers, but it grew really quickly and was soon stealing the spotlight - and the sunlight. Also, it was harboring winged sphinx caterpillars, who meandered over to my pepper plants. I found one the size of my index finger a couple weeks ago, and it had already eaten an entire leaf down to the stem. It was not happy to be pried off of that leaf, I guess it wasn't finished chowing down yet. But we did manage to pluck it off amid creepy hissing. So the morning glory is gone, and there's a lovely spot waiting to be planted, and there are seeds in the freezer. Sounds like I just found a project!

One red bell pepper is just about ready. It has just a smidge of green left on it, and I'm thinking it'll be ready to pick in the next day or two. Three more are starting to turn color as well, so I'm excited to see what they'll be! Planting the different colors at random have made it a fun guessing game. Will they be red? Orange? Yellow? Only time will tell!

There are a handful of small cantaloupes that I think are close to being ready. They're awfully small, but boy are they cute! Mini cantaloupes! I also spotted a brand new one earlier this week; just when I think the vines are done for the season, more melons start popping up! It's been really cool to watch, and I love this element of surprise.

I have really enjoyed my very first vegetable gardening season, and I've had pretty good results given the fact that I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing! I'm looking forward to getting some more seeds in the ground and playing the waiting and guessing game all over again!

The Countdown Has Begun

2009-09-24T21:34:00.002-05:00

In 90 days (give or take, depending on whether my little man decides to arrive on time!) I will get to meet Jude at last.

This is the first week in my third and final trimester, and it sounds weird but I honestly didn't think I'd make it this far. I certainly hoped to, but after having a miscarriage I found it difficult to get my hopes up too much. But here we are, just 90 short days away, and there have been no problems whatsoever. Jude is growing like a weed and is very active when he's awake. Sometimes he's so active it feels like he's setting off fireworks in there!

Feeling him kick and wiggle around is a weird feeling in the best way. Sometimes I get so used to it I barely notice; other times it gets my attention right away and I try to experience it as fully as I can - feeling with my hands, watching my tummy jump, imagining what the heck he's doing in there! We've imagined quite a personality for him; he's quite cheeky and seems to know when I tell Randy when he's kicking, because as soon as he starts watching or feeling for it, the moving stops. In fact, we came up with a code word for "Jude's kicking again" - Brussels Sprouts - so I can let him know without cluing Jude in that it's show time. He's like that singing frog in the old cartoons.

His room is all painted, and we're planning out the finishing touches. The color we chose is perfect, totally non-cliche and modern, and it complements the carpet color very well. Randy is hard at work taking the finish off an older wooden side table passed down from my great-grandfather. We're going to paint it white and put a more modern drawer pull on it. He'll also be custom making other room decor. I've been forbidden from painting or doing pretty much anything physical, but I've been hard at work coming up with designs and pitching ideas. All that Better Homes & Gardens and Good Housekeeping reading I've done is coming in rather handy, they are chock full of good inspiration!

We have also done the hospital tour of labor and delivery, recovery rooms, NICU, the nursery, and all that fun stuff. We were very impressed by what our hospital has to offer; the recovery rooms have recently been redone and look more like upscale hotel rooms than hospital rooms. The labor/delivery rooms were also very, very nice. The nursery is brand new and very well done. The NICU - which hopefully we'll never have to visit - is state of the art. While it seems like hospital tours tend to scare some people, it actually made us more excited and relieved. I'm really glad that we'll be in such a nice, clean, modern facility. If it's any indication of how nice the hospital is, the tour included punch in wine glasses (served by uniformed staff), finger foods (fruit, cheese, bread sticks, appetizers, veggies), desserts, and a drawing for a free digital camera. And it was totally free. It was actually pretty fun.

This past weekend we went to a concert. I'd bought the tickets two months ago, without thinking about how far along I'd be. Once I figured it out, of course it was too late as the tickets were nonrefundable, and I worried for weeks that the loud music would either freak Jude out or damage his hearing. So when the day came, I stayed calm in hopes that he would pick up on that and just hoped for the best. And everything was fine. He didn't seem freaked out at all, in fact I don't think the noise really bothered him. He kicked a little here and there, but they were just normal little kicks. Perhaps it helped that he had already heard the music before, again and again, and maybe had gotten used to it. I'm just glad it worked out, cause I was totally prepared to move from our (expensive) seats in the front and go hang out in the back if necessary. But our money was not wasted and we had a great time. And, of course, it was a really great show!

Next week, Randy is getting his wisdom teeth out. For his sake, I'm dreading it, but he's not nervous at all. Of course, I had an uncommonly bad experience with mine, so my anxiety is understandable. But most people don't have such a bad experience, and his surgeon seems extremely competent and skilled and the staff very caring, so I'm sure it'll all turn out fine. We need to get all this kind of stuff done before Jude gets here, while we still have the money to do it - not to mention the energy!

And while I haven't been posting many pictures, I am indeed getting big. Just this week, patients at work have suddenly been asking if I'm expecting. It's as if by entering the third trimester I instantly look inarguably pregnant. Which is a heck of a lot better than just looking like I've had a few too many Twinkies.

90 days and counting, we can't wait to meet our Jude!

Thinking Too Much

2009-09-17T10:45:00.003-05:00

The world is a terrible place. Human beings make it that way; the strong will always take advantage of the weak. Parents abusing and neglecting their children. People abusing animals. Greed. Hatred. Murder. War. The cycle will never, ever end. Sometimes the problems of the world make me feel so small and helpless; there is so much that needs fixing, and I'm just one person. There is so little that I can do, so many children will go to bed (if they even have one) hungry, bruised, cold, unloved, and in pain. The thought is too much to bear. Any time I even consider the possibility of going into a field that can help these children, such as Child Protective Services, my emotions overwhelm me, and I know I wouldn't be able to handle it. I internalize and empathize too much to see it all on a regular basis. I would not be able to cope.

WHY DO PEOPLE HAVE CHILDREN IF THEY'RE NOT GOING TO LOVE THEM?

It makes no sense at all.

Our little family is in the midst of making sweeping lifestyle changes. We have vowed to live a cruelty-free life. This will entail buying things like meat and dairy that come from animals who were treated humanely, as well as products that were not tested on animals. This will be good for us, and I'm looking forward to implementing these changes so that we can live better. An unfortunate side effect, though, is the tendency I have to think too much. In choosing not to contribute to the suffering of animals, I start thinking about all the other things in the world that need fixing, other suffering that occurs on a daily basis, and I start to get overwhelmed. Angry. Sad. Helpless.

People. Please stop abusing your children. Put them up for adoption if you don't want them. Get help. Find a counselor. Just don't take your anger out on them; your issues are NOT their fault.

I miss Jude.

Letters to Jude: Month 9

2009-09-13T21:57:00.006-05:00

Dear Jude,

Two days ago you turned 9 months old. This month you have become so funny, perceptive, and bursting with personality that you keep us constantly entertained and on our toes. I was lucky enough to get to work from home this past week, and it has been the best, happiest week I've had since returning to work in April. Hell, it may have even been the best week I've had all year! I loved being home with you and your Dad all day, spending time together and just hanging out. You and I spent some early mornings together, which I absolutely loved. While I am not technically a morning person, due mostly to the hard time I have getting out of bed, I really enjoyed getting up early to be with you, especially since I didn't have to tear myself away from you as I do on most weekday mornings. I've been back at work for 5 months now, and I still have to hold back tears every single morning when I have to leave you. It's hard, really, really hard, and that made this past week even sweeter. Not having to leave you every morning made me feel so light inside that I'm surprised I didn't float away like a balloon!

You are everywhere right now, and I mean EVERYWHERE. When you lock onto something you really want, you crawl so fast toward it I actually have to run to beat you to it. And when we catch you with something you're not supposed to have, your immediate reaction is a sly grin. I think you really delight in keeping us on our toes, I swear sometimes you're being a straight-up smart aleck! That, combined with your stubbornness, just proves you're our son, 100% without a doubt.

You have added some really, REALLY cute mannerisms to your repertoire, including tilting your head to the side, all the way down to your shoulder, when we talk to you or smile at you, when looking in the mirror or at a picture of yourself, or when you're just trying to be a little extra cute for good measure. You have also expanded your library of sounds, adding "bla-la-la-la-la" and other tongue-involved noises. You've gone back to saying "da-da" a lot, almost constantly if you're feeling particularly talkative. You have a sweet, soft voice, and you will sit and babble to yourself or to us, and you love when we repeat things back to you. Earlier this week you were babbling to your Daddy and you distinctly said, "Ba-doo." He repeated it back to you, and you thought it was the funniest thing! The more he repeated it, the harder you laughed, a hearty belly laugh, until you were out of breath. He repeated it probably 20 times, and you just laughed and laughed and laughed, it was priceless! It was one of those things that made me deliriously happy to be at home. You've also started screeching, a high-pitched, ear piercing shriek that rings out and smacks us upside the head. It's not an angry shriek, no, you're having a great time making yourself heard. Especially in restaurants. We think it's hilarious; yep, we're THOSE people.

We've had quite a few visitors these past few weeks, and you have delighted in entertaining them and wrapping them around your chubby little fingers. You've been an angel, too, favoring laughing and smiling over fussing or being cranky. We LOVE that you are such a happy little person, and we are always so proud to show off your temperament. I hope we'll be able to say the same when you're a teenager...

Well kiddo, what can I say, I have no complaints! You are simply wonderful! You have a delightful personality; you're smart, funny, sneaky, stubborn, resourceful (just yesterday you climbed on the thick DVD holder to reach a tabletop), strong, calm, and sweet. You make me proud and happy each and every day, and I love you with all that I have. You're going to be walking very soon, I can tell, and I can't wait to see you take your first steps. Raising you is the best thing I have ever done, and I'm so excited that this is still only the beginning and that there is still so much to look forward to.

Love,

Mama

Letters to Jude - Month 8

2009-08-21T10:51:00.003-05:00

Dear Jude,

Last week you turned 8 months old. I wanted to write this letter on time, but we were in the midst of preparing for your first plane ride for a weekend visit to San Antonio for your great-great-grandpa's 89th birthday. I was pretty stressed out imagining the possibilities: Security giving us hell for taking formula on board (they didn't); your ears hurting because of the pressure (I suspect they did on the second flight, but it was nothing your little treats couldn't fix); forgetting something vital at home (didn't happen); the plane crashing (getting to the brink of paranoia much?); and having someone besides your Dad or me driving you in the car. Yeah, I'm an obsessive worrier, always have been. Becoming a mother has multiplied it by 10, but I'm trying to get better about it. Bear with me.

So anyway, at 8 months you have fully mastered the whole crawling thing. You're everywhere at once! You have also turned into quite the climber and sometimes you can be so adventurous and fearless that I wish we could just pad the entire house. And that's not just the paranoid mother syndrome; you literally dive off of furniture when we're holding you, and we have to make sure we've at least got ahold of a leg or two to keep you from falling on your head. It's like baby bungee jumping. Luckily, you've also learned how to climb off a couch or chair backwards, so your feet touch the ground and you just stand up - much less stressful than headfirst diving. You've become so adept at pulling yourself up, that you'll grab anything that will hold your weight (and sometimes things that won't) and you're up in seconds. And in the past week or so, you've begun to let go and stand on your own for a couple seconds at a time. Each time you stand on your own, you get this big, proud grin on your face and after your butt hits the ground, you're back up again, standing alone over and over, practicing with glee. It won't be long at all until you're walking, and that thought both thrills and terrifies me. My baby, walking already? It's almost overwhelming to think about!

You are the proud owner of two pearly white, razor sharp teeth, and this month we have encouraged you to put them, and your newly developing pincer grasp, to use with little puffed baby finger foods. We've dubbed them simply your Treats or Snacks, and you L-O-V-E them. No matter what is going on, no matter how mad or upset you may be, you will stop what you're doing, smile, and reach your hand out the moment you lay eyes on your snacks. The funny thing is, though, that you don't use your teeth on them. They are designed to disintegrate in your mouth to reduce the choking hazard, and you tend to just suck on them until they're soft and mushy and tiny before swallowing them. Also, you only sometimes use your pincer skills, often preferring to either grab our hand and bring it to your mouth, or simply open your mouth and wait for us to feed it to you. Watching you eat your snacks is pretty funny as you tend to get them stuck in certain places, like the back of your hand or your chin, and leave them there, opting to just grab a new one rather than figure out where the last one went. Who needs to find one wayward snack when there's plenty more?

For the first time, you have shown stranger anxiety. We had some friends over a few weeks ago for dinner, and you hadn't met them before. You were a little on the tired side, so I think your threshold for new things was a little impaired, and you were truly afraid of these new people. I felt bad, both for you and for them, because I knew you were just tired and it probably stressed you out to meet new people, and you pretty much like everybody, so how do I explain to them that no, he has never disliked anyone but you! After a little while, you relaxed a bit, but you were still a little on edge and had your guard up, and sudden movements or advancements in your direction freaked you out. Poor little guy. Finally, I just put you to bed, and you slept soundly the rest of the night, even through our little dinner party. When you're tired, you're REALLY tired, and I'm trying to learn not to push it. You're a good little faker, though, and you will act happy as a clam until, say, bath time, when you suddenly decide that hey! I'm too tired for this! I need sleep NOOOOWWWW!!!!! And you proceed to scream and cry as I get you back out of the bath, into a towel, and into a diaper and jammies. Then you snatch your bottle from my hand and shove it into your mouth, and your eyes begin rolling around and drooping and your blinks get longer and longer as I rock you back and forth in your room. Within minutes you're peacefully asleep, and it's as if the whole episode never happened. What a roller coaster!

A few weeks ago you decided you hated getting your diaper or clothing changed, because what an inconvenience it was to such a busy guy! You'd fuss and twist and try to crawl off the changing table. That was especially weird because I'd become quite accustomed to your diaper changes being fun; I'd play with you and sing silly songs and tickle you, and you'd smile and laugh and have a great time. Suddenly, diaper changes were miserable, a rushed flurry of wails and desperate attempts to hold you still and cheer you up. And just as suddenly as it came on, you are back to enjoying them, THANK GOD. Maybe it's because before you can so much as whimper, I start tickling or singing, smiling or being silly, and the faint furrow of your eyebrows will melt into a grin as I breathe a sigh of relief. You still squirm, but at least you're happy about it, that's all I ask for. When you get mad, it totally throws me off because I'm so used to my happy little baby. Being a mother, I'm on my toes enough as it is without you throwing curve balls at me!

You are a delightful, sweet, light-up-the-room kind of kid, and I am so proud of you. You continually amaze us with your intelligence, strength, adaptability, patience, and loving demeanor. You are pure sunshine, and every moment with you is a gift. You are one of the few things I know I will never take for granted; I will never forget how happy and lucky I am that you are mine.

All my love,

Mommy

Letters to Jude - Month 7

2009-07-15T11:31:00.002-05:00

Dear Jude,

A few days ago, you turned 7 months old. This past month has been full of changes, surprises, and milestones, but one thing has remained the same: you are the loveliest, sweetest, calmest, and most entertaining baby I could ever hope for. You bring so much joy into our lives and the lives of those we know and love. There is not a single person in our family who can resist your smile, your kissable cheeks, your grabby little fingers, or your funny babbling. You are, quite simply, addicting.

You have begun to do several new things this month, all of them very exciting and equally notable. You are on the verge of crawling, and you delight in getting up on your hands and knees and rocking back and forth. We have tried enticing you with various things like toys, the cat, and even my camera, but you always do one of two things. When presented with "bait" to crawl forward, you will act like you're going to crawl but instead flop down on your belly and stretch yourself as far as your body will go to try to reach the object of your desire. Once, you even outsmarted me - I put a kazoo on your blanket, and instead of trying to reach it, you pulled the blanket until the kazoo was within your reach. Talk about being too big for your britches! It looks like we have a little smarty-pants on our hands! The other thing you do is crawl backwards, which is funny to watch but leaves you frustrated as you tend to back yourself into corners and against furniture, leaving you no other option but to go forward which of course isn't one you will even consider. Eventually, after some maneuvering, you are usually able to get out of the tight spot you wedged yourself into, and you're off again, crawling and scooting backwards all over the place. Whatever gets you where you want to go!

Just this week, you have also begun saying "da-da," which of course has us thrilled, especially your Daddy. You will spout off long strings of "da-da-da-da-da-da" all throughout the day, in the cutest voice possible. Sometimes in the mornings, you will babble "da-da" to yourself in your crib until we come and get you. It's the sweetest sound, hearing your talk to yourself and play happily is the best way I can imagine to be woken up. As you will learn, I'm not much of a morning person, so that's saying a lot. You get excited if we repeat "da-da" back to you, sometimes you'll repeat it again, other times you'll just mouth it or whisper with a big grin on your face, as though we're in on a private joke. And we just might be, as your sense of humor has really begun to develop. We don't have to force laughs with tickling anymore; we can now make you laugh with the right funny noise or face. Or we just hold you upside down. You're a little daredevil, and being uspide down is your favorite!

You have become very willfull, and you know exactly what you want, when you want it. When something catches your eye, you will turn your entire body to face it, so you can get the best view possible to thoroughly inspect it. Then, whether or not it is within reach, you will attempt to throw yourself toward it. If we didn't hold you tightly, you'd go flying out of our arms your attempts are so forceful! Such enticements for you include hair, glasses, cameras, phones, the keyboard and mouse for the computer, cups, and almost anything else that you spy.

You have your first tooth! Although we could tell you were having a tough time while it was coming through, you were a champ and only put up a fuss at naptime. I think you had a hard time falling asleep because of the pain. A little infant Tylenol fixed that, and now you are napping really well and very consistently. That little pearly white is SHARP and you love to bite our fingers with it. I think a second tooth will come through and keep it company any time now!

Your Grandma bought you a little pool for the summer, and you love, love, love it! You haven't seemed to mind the heat of your first summer, and let me tell you, it has been a scorcher! The temperature has topped 100 degrees nearly every day this month, but you barely notice. We try not to get you out in the heat much, so of course that helps. You love taking a walk around the neighborhood after dinner, and you have fallen asleep on these walks twice. I think the warmth of the evening relaxes you, and before we know it, you are OUT.

There has been one thing you have refused to cooperate with for most of your short life, and now, finally, you have accepted it wholly: the pacifier. You love the pacifier now! You fall asleep quicker with it, you drool less (which cleared up your rash), and it calms you instantly when you're (rarely) cranky. Yes, the pacifier is your new friend, which I didn't think would ever happen. Then one day, we tried it just for the sake of it, and you took to it instantly, sucking on it with such force that we couldn't pull it out of your mouth. I don't know why you resisted it for so long, but suddenly you can't live without it at bedtime. You're not totally hooked; you can easily go a day without it, so luckily I don't think we'll be needing to clip it to your shirt or anything. (Seriously, people do that, I don't understand why!) It's been nice though, just popping it in your mouth and watching you drift off to sleep.

You have become quite the champion sleeper and it is very common now for you to sleep through the night, about 10 to 11 hours, in your crib. The swing has been put away for over a month now, and we have never had to go back to it even once. Not only that, but we have also not had to let you "cry it out" one single time. We simply don't believe in that practice, and following our instincts has not let us down, not even a little. We will never intentionally cause you stress or anxiety, and we will always be there for you. All I want for you is to be happy and healthy, inside and out, through babyhood, childhood, and into your adulthood. I promise to always do what's best for you, because you are my world, the reason I get up every day. I love you more than I could ever express, and I am so proud to call you my son.

Love,

Mommy

Letters to Jude - Month 6

2009-06-19T13:22:00.003-05:00

Dear Jude,

Last week you turned 6 months old, and you are amazing as ever. Maybe even more so. Everyone who sees you can't help but fall madly in love with you. The other night we went out to dinner and our waitress said you were one of the cutest babies she'd ever seen in her life. She oohed and ahhed over your hair, your smile, and your big blue eyes. That's the most common reaction we get from people nowadays, but no parent ever tires of hearing how great their kid is, so naturally we enjoy hearing it again and again. It just reaffirms that, yes, we do have the most awesome kid ever, and makes us look just a little less conceited for saying so.

You have learned so many things, the most noticeable of which is sitting up. While still a tad wobbly, you're sitting up on your own for longer and longer stretches, and you absolutely love it. Now that you're able to sit up, laying down has become terribly boring to you. Changing your diaper has now become somewhat of a wrestling match, as you twist and contort your body to try to roll over. We hung a mirror next to your changing table to make the act of lying still a little more interesting for you, but now you take great joy in trying to turn to face the mirror while putting both your hands and feet up on it. Within a day, that mirror was covered in smudges but boy do you love it. Mirrors are one of your favorite things, a sure way to get a big, gummy grin from you. You like them almost as much as you like looking at pictures of yourself. We have pictures of you all over the house, and you are very amused by them. I'll look up to see you gazing at them and grinning. My hope is that you'll someday love pictures as much as I do, and it makes me happy to see you enjoying them so much. Because as anyone in our family will attest to, the camera is always in my hands and you are my favorite subject.

You have become quite the easy sleeper, as most nights you will sleep straight through the night in your crib. You move a lot in your sleep, often ending up 90 and sometimes 180 degrees from your original position. Sometimes in the morning when I start to hear your little waking up noises, I'll go to pick you up and you'll be laying with your head in the furthest corner of the crib. How you manage to get that way I'll never know, but you don't seem to mind sleeping with your head in the corner, so whatever works for you is okay by me!

You haven't started crawling quite yet, but you manage to get around by rolling and scooting, usually backwards. One day while I was at work, your dad called and told me that you'd been playing happily on your blanket on the floor, and a few minutes later he looked up and you were squarely underneath the coffee table. You had a look on your face that was a mixture of confusion and excitement, like "Hey, look what I did! Now, how did I do it?" This backward scooting of yours is just plain adorable, and I'm sure it won't be long before you figure out how to go forward. It's really fun to watch you figure things out, and I'm excited to be on Crawling Watch 2009. Your dad and I have an agreement that if you crawl while I'm not home, he is contractually obligated to get it on video. And believe me, I'll know if he doesn't. Moms know everything.

You have grown to love the pureed fruits and vegetables we've been introducing to you. So far, your favorites are sweet potatoes and prunes. Yes, prunes. I'm sure when you're older you'll recoil with horror that we even gave them to you, but you love them and will finish an entire serving, giving yourself a prune goatee in the process. I had never even tried prunes until I tasted a dab of yours, and they kind of taste like raisins. They're not really bad, I think they just get a bad rap because they help you get things moving, if you get what I'm saying. Well, they don't help YOU get things moving, because I'm pretty sure your inner plumbing is actually made of real lead pipe, but for most people, they get the job done. For you, they're just tasty and fun to decorate your face with.

I never enjoy being away from you, but the mornings are the most difficult for me. Tearing myself away from you is the hardest thing I have to do in life, even harder than waking up early or passing up dessert. When it comes time to leave for work in the mornings, you are always in one of two adorable states. You're either grinning and talking or you're sweetly, peacefully snoozing with your dad. Both are irresistably cute and heart-achingly adorable, and there are days when leaving is completely unbearable and I cry most of the way to work because I can't be with you to enjoy your wonderful sweetness. I miss being home with you like you wouldn't believe, but I'm so glad that you can spend your days with your dad and your evenings with me. I'm always so glad to see you after work that I just soak you up as much as I can in the hours before your bedtime, and I love being the executor of your nightly bedtime ritual. A bath on bath night, a diaper change, jammies, a bottle in your rocking chair, and a smooth transition to your crib. You fall asleep in my arms nearly every night, and it's all I can do to put you to bed instead of holding you all night. I gaze at your sleeping face and delicate hands and try to burn the image into my brain so that I'll never forget the magical serenity of my sleeping little baby.

Honestly, I could go on all day about how wonderful you are, but there aren't enough words in the world to convey just how much I love you. You are my world, and there's not a minute in the day that I don't think about you. You make everything better, and, most of all, you make ME better. You'll always be my little JuBug, prune goatee and all.

Love,

Mommy

Letters to Jude - Month 5

2009-05-29T13:35:00.003-05:00

Dear Jude,

I am way behind in writing your letter this month, and I'm very sorry. I have a slew of excuses, but they're not very compelling so I won't bore you with them. But know that I had this letter on my mind for weeks and I did eventually make time to write it. That counts for something, right?

You have been pure joy this month. You have some ticklish spots that can be very tricky to find, but when we finally hit them, you have this hilarious, almost automated sounding laugh. It's a very charming giggle; it sounds forced, as though you're desperately trying not to laugh but it's managing to escape anyway. Your father is able to make you laugh the hardest, but when I manage to get one out of you, I hang onto the sound and try to trap it in my memory before it can get away. That laugh of yours is pure gold.

You've been doing great with solids, you particularly like green beans, but you don't care much for peaches. When I try to give them to you, you clamp down and refuse to open your mouth. If I manage to sneak some in there, you make the funniest yucky faces ever. Point taken.

You have adjusted to my working full time like a champ. The transition was virtually seamless, and you are thrilled to hang out with Daddy everyday. I miss you like crazy, but I have a bulletin board filled with your pictures so I can see you anytime. Those pictures make my days immensely better. You are also my desktop background and my phone background. When all that isn't enough (which is often), your Dad will bring you up to my work to spend lunchtime with me. Those are the best days of my week, and I always wish we could do that every day. There are definitely days when I don't think I can make it unless I see you, and I'm really grateful to Daddy for being patient with me. And at the end of every day, I get so excited that I'm coming home to you, your smile, and your snuggles. I will always come home to you.

Love,

Mom

When Dad dresses the baby

2009-04-23T14:54:00.002-05:00

Me: "Why is Jude's top snap undone?"
Randy: "It's too tight on his neck!"
Me: "Is it too small?"
R: "This shirt just fits weird! The snaps are in the front, the neck is too tight, and it's short on him, but it's really wide and loose on him."
Me: "Are you sure it's not on backwards? It's weird that the snaps would be in the front."
R: "No, it's on right."
Me: "Um, the tag is in the front. It's on backwards."
R: "What? That doesn't mean it's backwards, the tag can be anywhere!"
Me: ".....No. The tag is never in the front."
R: "Dammit..."

Really?

2009-04-22T10:11:00.003-05:00

Am I the only one who actually ENJOYS being with my child?

It seems like everyone who has a baby is suddenly craving a break, passing their baby off to anyone with a pair of hands. And everyone within a 50 foot radius of me and my child seem to think I'm hoping they'll swoop in and relieve me of my burden. Here's an example:

"Here, let me take him while you eat/wash your hands/sit quietly/do anything but hold him." *arms outstretch and hands begin to take him from mine before the sentence is even complete.*

I hold him tighter and turn away. "Um, no, I'm fine, thanks."

"UGH! That's not fair! I want a turn!"

Are we in kindergarten?! My child is not a toy, this is not the playground, and I do not have to "share" just because you demand a "turn." He is MY CHILD. If I'm clearly happy holding him, and he's happy to be with me, then I have two words for you: BUZZ OFF. Or at the very least, ask politely. I don't want to hear "let me" or "give me a turn" or any pouting or guilt-tripping. If you can't be an adult about it, then don't bother. And don't bother me or my child when we're clearly happy just the way we are. Besides, I don't let 5-year-olds hold my son.

Or how about when they ask THE BABY if he "wants" to go to them? They don't ask me, they ask the 4 month old. With hands outstretched. No, he doesn't. Go away.

And worst of all are the people who just walk up and try to take him. ARE YOU SERIOUS?

No, I take that back. The absolute worst is when someone tries to take him from me when he's clearly very upset. Hmm, let me think for a moment, who would be better suited to calm and soothe a distressed baby, his mother or a relative stranger? I'LL GIVE YOU 3 GUESSES. Also very irritating is when someone is holding him and he gets upset whilst in their arms, and they KEEP HOLDING HIM. Tears are streaming down his face, he's screaming, he is stressing out. The logical thing to do would be to immediately return the baby to his mom or dad, right? Yeah, you would think so...

I don't mind having other people hold him, not at all. In fact, I usually offer before the person even thinks to ask, and if they do ask politely I will immediately hand him over if I have no reason not to (i.e. he's not hungry or overtired or fussy). But when I (or his dad) clearly want to be with him, people can't seem to take the hint. Either that or they have no respect for me or my child, which is certainly a possibility as well. I'm just wondering if it is really that uncommon for a mother to enjoy the company of her child, because by the way people act, it's totally unheard of. I, for one, cherish every moment with my child and if I want to keep him with me, then that is exactly what I am going to do, whether people like it or not.

If you're going to be pushy, shove off.

Letters to Jude - Month 4

2009-04-19T11:58:00.005-05:00

Dear Jude,

Last week you turned 4 months old. I have been trying lately to write your letters closer to on time, but this past week has been different from every other week since you were born. I started a full time job.

This wasn't how I expected things to go, but as you will learn, life has a way of not caring about what plans you've made. I knew your Daddy hated his job and that he would eventually leave it, but I'd hoped that a back up plan would already be in place so I could continue to stay home with you. However, things didn't go as expected, and Daddy couldn't take it anymore. I was offered a full time job by my old boss, and things just sort of fell into place. Now Daddy stays home with you and I bring home the bacon. It was really hard for me to accept at first; I loved being with you all the time and we'd finally hit a rhythm. I'd become very much in tune with you, and it broke my heart to have to be away from you for 9 hours a day. Daddy is a GREAT stay-at-home dad, and I know you will want for nothing when he is home with you. In fact, you are a pretty lucky kid; not many kids these days get a lot of time with their dads. And all day at work I get to look forward to coming home to your beautiful face and your giddy smile, your snuggly little body, your sweet scent, and your hands grasping my fingers. As heartbreaking as it is to miss you all day, I know I'm doing right by you and your Daddy, providing for my family not only financially but in terms of happiness, too. Because I know that your Daddy would rather be with you than anywhere else in the world, just like me.

This month, you have more than lived up to the expectations set by the many people who call this stage the "Golden Stage of Babyhood." You have a big, contagious grin that melts the hearts of all who see it. You have a way of smiling right into our eyes and making us feel warm all over. You have become increasingly patient, and you don't demand to be held 24 hours a day anymore. You're perfectly content to play on the floor for several minutes at a time, rolling over, playing with your crinkly "baby paper", and kicking at your play gym. You're finally sleeping in your crib some nights, without even the tiniest bit of crying, and we are so proud of you for debunking the advice of everyone who shunned us for letting you sleep in our bed or your swing, told us that all we have to do is let you cry yourself to sleep in your own bed, and said we'd never get you in your own bed if we didn't make you miserable. Naturally, we didn't follow any of this advice and we continued to do whatever made you happy, whatever felt the most natural to us. All we did was follow our instincts, and it worked. We knew that you would sleep in your crib when you were ready, and you did exactly that. You still sleep in your swing too, but that's totally fine by us; we're just happy you sleep as well as you do. And regardless of where you sleep, your just-woke-up snuggles are the sweetest around

This month we got to start you on rice cereal. We were so excited for this new stage; I'd been eyeing your little soft-bite spoons for months, thrilled at the prospect of "here comes the airplane" and watching your little mouth open in anticipation of a bite to eat. This is not exactly how it went. Right from the start, you hated the texture of the cereal, screwing up your face and gagging. You'd think we were feeding you pureed toenails by your reaction. You looked awfully cute, though, sitting up in your Bumbo seat, a bib strapped on, your face a mess. And of course your Yucky faces were hysterical. Much to your dismay, we loved feeding you cereal, and we gave it to you several times. After a few attempts, you started to get the hang of it, opening your mouth for the spoon, and actually swallowing some of the cereal. You made fewer Yucky faces, but I could always tell you were relieved when it was over so you could get a bottle to wash that mess down.

Having mastered rolling from your belly to your back, you have been trying so hard this month to roll over from your back to your belly. You first initiated this in your crib, when you were supposed to be going to sleep. You put your hand to your cheek, then chased it with your mouth. You turned your head until you were almost facing your crib's mattress, then you started pushing off with your foot. You'd get to where you were laying on your side, then you'd drop back to where you started. Over and over, you'd do this same routine, always stopping and giving up when you got to your side. You've gotten really close to going all the way over, but it hasn't happened yet. It's fun to watch you try, though!

You've learned a few new tricks this month, the funniest of which is sucking on your upper lip. You started doing this one night, totally out of the blue, and I was so amused that I ran to get the camera. Your tongue would start sneaking out and up out of your mouth, further and further until it caught your upper lip, then you'd start sucking vigorously, making a funny slurping sound. You've also started laughing more than just a tiny giggle. Daddy learned this one night when he started tickling you to try to get a reaction, and boy, did he get one. Suddenly, a hearty laugh erupted out of you; he'd found a sweet spot. Since then, we try to make you laugh all the time, with most of the success coming from Daddy, but sometimes you will laugh for me totally randomly, like when I'm changing your diaper or taking off your pajamas. There are few things that excite me more than hearing you laugh; even if I'm in a bad mood (which is difficult to do around you anyway!), just hearing you laugh will snap me out of it immediately.

You are cuter than ever this month, with your happy grin and long, thick hair. Strangers regularly stop us to ooh and ahh over you, usually gushing about what gorgeous hair you have, how they've never seen a baby with so much hair. But amazingly enough, some people follow this up with, "So when are you going to cut it?" WHY would we cut it? Your gorgeous hair is the first thing people notice about you, and we're expected to cut it off? I don't think so! We're proud of your hair, we love it! It is soft and thick, perfect for running our fingers through and smoothing back from your forehead and behind your ears. Anyone who thinks we should cut it off is either jealous or delusional, and it's not going to happen. A 4 month old with thick, gorgeous locks is not something you see everyday, in fact it's damn near a miracle, and those people can just suck it.

As sad as I am not to get to spend every moment of my day with you, I'm just so glad to see you happy, even if it's not me getting to meet your every need. I know your Dad is thrilled to get the chance to be with you more than most other dads, and I'm happy for him. You're lucky to have such a wonderful Daddy, because I guarantee there are dads out there who refuse to change diapers, who don't spend much time with their baby, who have no idea what their children do during the day, and yours isn't one of them. He delights in being with you, caring for you, smelling your hair, and kissing your cheeks. And luckily for me, he has agreed to - and followed up on - bringing you to see me for lunch any time I want, and that helps a lot. That way, I only have to miss you for two 4-hour blocks instead of the entire day straight. And trust me, I miss you a ton when I'm not with you, every moment I feel as though a part of me is missing. But when I get home, I'm complete, and it's my favorite part of the day.

Love,

Mommy

Bloodshed

2009-04-08T22:40:00.002-05:00

Tonight my baby totally owned his daddy.

Randy spent most of the day today putting together the new storage shed he bought to store some of the stuff currently residing in the garage so that he can make more room for his woodworking machines and workspace. When he finally came inside, long after the sun had gone down, he bent down to kiss Jude, who was sitting in my lap. Suddenly, Randy started going "OW, OW, OW!" and I realized Jude had a grip on his daddy's nose. When Randy finally got his nose freed from Jude's fingers, we realized it was bleeding. He dashed off to the nearby bathroom, where his nose proceded to rapidly drip blood hard enough to leave splashes in the sink. I could not stop laughing! Of course, Randy didn't find it very funny, and his nose continued bleeding for at least 15 minutes. For a four-month-old, Jude really knows how to inflict pain!

Letters to Jude - Month 3

2009-03-13T18:42:00.012-05:00

Dear Jude,

This week you turned 3 months old. I can't believe how quickly time has gone by or how big you've gotten! You are the cutest baby I've ever seen in my life, and I'm not just saying that because you're mine. Even in my grumpiest moments, your smile lights up the room and melts my heart, and I can't help but smile back. Luckily for me you smile a lot, especially first thing in the morning after your bottle, so it makes my day that much better. The new swing has a mirror above you, and you love to look at it and smile and make faces - it is SO CUTE! You have also added laughing to your arsenal, and there is no sweeter sound in the world!

This month, you took your first trip away from home to go to San Antonio. You were really good in the car, considering what a long drive it was. On the way there, we stopped at your Grandpa's house to visit him for his birthday. He was really happy to see you, and you were your usual charming self. We had to stop several more times between his house and San Antonio, because you kept getting fussy and upset. It was understandable, though. I'm not a fan of road trips, either! When we finally arrived at your cousin Jennifer's house, everyone was so eager and excited to meet you, especially your great-great-grandfather. I'm so thrilled that he got to meet you; it is really quite a rarity to see 5 generations in a single room! This was also your first time to spend the night in a new place, and you slept like a champ. Of course, we had to bring your swing along, but it was impressive nonetheless. Your aunt Peggy commented the next morning that she'd been worried when she didn't hear you cry that night, then finally she heard you fuss just a little bit, and then she was able to relax. I was so proud of my good little baby; you cried maybe 30 seconds the whole night. That day, you also attended your first party, and it was a loud one. You understandably had a hard time napping and relaxing, but you were still a trooper. I am so, so proud of you for being so adaptable and pleasant!

This month has seen a major turnaround for you; you are now a fan of bathtime! Not to brag or anything, but I can actually take some credit for this one, although it was really a very simple fix. Instead of bathing you in the big tub, lying flat on your back on a baby bath sponge, we put you in your infant bath tub in the reclining position, and you loved it! From then on, bathtime has been so much more enjoyable for all of us, and now we don't have to feel so bad "torturing" you in the tub!

You are still a big fan of nursing, even though my milk supply is beginning to diminish. I don't make enough to fill you up when you're hungry, but what milk I do have makes a great appetizer, dessert, or snack anytime you want it. Most of the time, you simply nurse for pleasure, which is just fine with me. You get this look of pure delight on your face, your whole body relaxes, and before long you're sound asleep. It's the ultimate soother for you, and I'm so glad I can still provide you with such comfort. And it's a good thing, too, because you absolutely despise pacifiers. This is still a bit of a shock for me, because when I was a baby I was all about the "binky." You, however, won't even let it into your mouth all the way, pushing it out with your tongue with a look of pure disgust. It's actually pretty funny, but there are definitely times when I wish you would just take it, because I can tell you really want something to suck on when you're trying to fall asleep - or maybe I should say when you're fighting sleep, which you do every day, especially if we try to get you to fall asleep in your crib or bassinet. Yep, you will still only sleep in your swing or in our bed. We're still working on it.

You are developing so fast I can hardly keep up. The little baby I came home from the hospital with was content to lay in my arms and snuggle, but now you are a little guy on the move! Your favorite position is standing up, and sometimes you will fuss if we try any other position. Your legs are super strong, and you can support your full weight as long as we hold you steady. You also strongly prefer sitting up to laying back, and you make your preference very clear using what we have dubbed your Sitting-Up Face. Any time you make this particular face, we know that you want us to help you into a sitting position, and you seem to really like that you can communicate that to us.

Although you have rolled over before, this month you have really mastered rolling from your tummy to your back. On Valentine's Day, you rolled over 3 times in a row, and now there's no holding you back!

Luckily for me, you are very photogenic and have learned quickly to look at the camera. I got a new camera on your 3-month birthday, and now I am thrilled to be able to take better photos of you. I took over 700 photos in the month of February, most of them of you, and you really don't seem to mind. The funny thing is that it's easy to coax a smile out of you - as long as the camera isn't in my hand. The moment it's aimed at you, though, suddenly you're so distracted by looking at the camera that I have to use every trick in the book to get you to smile. Sometimes I wonder if you know!

You have changed quite a lot, but you have always been, and continue to be, an adorable, charming, sweet little boy who is a joy and a thrill to be around. You are loved very much by many people, but none more than Daddy and I. You are our life's purpose.

Love,

Mommy

Letters to Jude - Month Two

2009-02-16T14:10:00.003-06:00

Dear Jude,

A few days ago, you turned two months old. Your dad and I continue to be amazed by the intensity of our love for this new little person in our lives. You have begun smiling at us, and I can tell you there is no more welcome sight than the grin that sweeps across your face. In your first month, you only smiled as you fell asleep, and to our delight you have continued to do so, but those "on purpose" smiles are just the best. There are some days when you are just in the happiest mood, smiling, cooing, and squealing constantly, and there are other days where we have to try pretty hard to coax smiles out of you.

Your disposition during diaper changes has done a total 180. It catches me off guard sometimes to look over at your face and see you smiling instead of crying. Gone are the days of screaming and fussing and kicking your feet - unless I try to change you before I feed you! Once I figured that one out through trial and error, I have tried my best to always feed you first. Month One was spent getting the hang of keeping up with your needs. Month Two, however, was more about figuring out what makes you tick, your idiosyncracies, your likes and dislikes, and deciphering your cries. There are often days when you hardly cry at all because we recognize the clues you give us to signal your needs, and we are able to meet those needs before you have time to get frustrated or upset.

Bathtime is still your most hated thing of all. The screaming fits you throw in the tub are truly epic; fists clenched, your face stays nearly motionless as you scream as though you're being tortured, tears streaming down your face. It's heartbreaking, yet at the same time I can't help but laugh at the way you carry on. Your dad has to wash you as quickly as he can, while I stand at the ready as his assistant, shampoo and baby wash in hand. As soon as he's done with your lightning-fast bath, your Dad whisks you out of the tub and into my open arms that are ready with one of your fluffy hooded towels. We've got it down to a science now, and in spite of our efforts to minimize your distress, it stll takes you several minutes to recover. I sincerely hope that you will eventually come to enjoy baths, because I have been really looking forward to watching you splash around with glee. Maybe someday!

Your sleeping habits are still hit and miss. I think you've pretty much sorted out your days and nights, and there are many days when you take fantastic, consistent naps and many nights that you sleep through. However, 9 times out of 10, you still wake up if we put you in your bed. The only ways you will sleep are in your swing, in our arms, or in our bed. And each of those comes with its own set of conditions. You prefer your swing mostly for naps, refusing to sleep in it during the evening and into the night. Your favorite way to sleep any time is in our arms, and your Dad has a special position he puts you in that will put you to sleep almost immediately. The only way we've found to get any sleep at night is to keep you in our bed and let you nurse to sleep. This isn't a habit I'd hoped you would form, but to maintain my own sanity I've had to resort to whatever works. You have gone a few 2-hour stretches in your own bed, and although I do enjoy being able to sprawl out, I have found that I actually miss snuggling up with you. To my surprise, I do actually enjoy sharing our bed with you, and it's a nice bonus to be able to let you nurse as I fall back asleep, no moving or getting up required. And now that you're out of your ghetto hand-me-down pink swing and into a great upgrade, courtesy of your Grandma, I think you're going to start sleeping in your swing at night. We have our fingers crossed, because your own bed is where you're truly safest. And if that bed must be constantly moving in order for you to stay asleep, your swing will have to do. I just hope you outgrow the sleeping difficulties before you outgrow the swing!

I can't believe how much you have grown and changed in the past month. You look more like your Dad every day; I call you my Little Randy. The only parts of myself I see in you are your nose and your hair. You have your Daddy's chin and, much to my delight, his big blue eyes. Your eyelashes are breathtakingly long, and you have a perfect little mouth. Your eyebrows are still blond but are slowly darkening. You are the most beautiful little person I have ever seen, and I am so proud to call you my son. I can't wait to see what you have in store for us!

Love,

Mom

Letters to Jude - Month One

2009-02-16T12:32:00.002-06:00

Dear Jude,

I must apologize for not writing you a letter for your first month. I did, however, write a blog about your first month:

Jude is one month old today. I haven't blogged since before he was born; not because there was nothing to say, but because I couldn't bring myself to spend my precious few spare moments blogging, and there was so much to say that I wouldn't know where to begin anyway!

Jude is quite simply a ray of sunshine. He is a happy baby, loves to be held and snuggled, and has the sweetest, cutest face I've ever seen in my life. He makes a million funny faces and loves to stare at us with his bright eyes wide open. His hair is fluffy and long, filled with natural highlights and irresistable to touch. He hates baths and diaper and clothing changes, but those are the only times he really cries - and boy does he! He has already turned over twice, has just this week starting cooing and babbling, and is holding his head up pretty well. Like any new parent, we are always proud of every little new achievement!

Last Saturday, Jude was acting fussier than usual, and when he cried during his diaper changes, I noticed he was sounding a little congested in his chest. He got progressively worse over the course of the weekend (don't you know these things always happen on the weekend??), and I called first thing Monday morning to get him in to the pediatrician. The doctor said he most likely had a cold and said to let him know if he got worse. That night, and into the next day, he did seem to be worse, his breath rattling in his chest and his nasal discharge turning green. I called first thing the next morning and once again took him in. This time, the doctor listened to his chest for several minutes and then said we should do a test for RSV. The test was horrible, he had to stick a long swab into the very back of Jude's nasal cavity. It looked very painful and uncomfortable, and Jude absolutely hated it; I didn't blame him a bit, it even made me cringe just watching him. The test came back positive, and the pediatrician said that while he was "this close" to sending us straight to the ER, he said I should take him home and watch him closely, and that if he showed any signs of not getting enough oxygen, such as labored breathing or getting blue around the lips, I should go straight to the emergency room. Scary much?? Thank goodness, that day was the worst day of his symptoms, and we never did have to take him to the hospital, though I did come really close to taking him just in case - it's not easy making that judgment call, and I didn't want to wait until he was doing really badly. He's doing a lot better now, but he is still congested and has coughing fits a few times a day. It's totally heartbreaking! During the worst of it, we had him sleeping sitting up in his Boppy pillow on our bed between Randy and I so that if, in the middle of the night, he had problems breathing that I would be right there. He never did, but he did have frequent bouts of horrible coughing, followed by what we dubbed Jude's War Cry - an attempt on his part at clearing his throat that sounded like he was about to wage war on his mortal enemy. Before or after coughing, and sometimes just out of the blue, he would suddenly let out a very loud "AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!" During the day, it was a bit jarring, but also on the hilarious side. He sounded so pitiful, yet so angry! We couldn't help but laugh, but at the same time we felt incredibly sorry for him. At night, he would do his war cry just inches from my face, jolting me out of sleep. Oddly enough, he didn't even seem to notice and always went right back to sleep. It was really pretty weird. (I wish we'd gotten a recording of it!) I ended up catching the virus, but I don't have a war cry, though I sometimes feel like letting one out!

Other than that, everything has gone pretty smoothly. There are definitely some nights (and days) when we can't get him to stay asleep - he'll sleep fine in our arms - in fact, as long as we're holding him, he could probably sleep through a typhoon - but the moment we put him in his bassinet, he's wide awake again and not a happy camper, and we're back at square one. Luckily, we have recently been educated on the value of the swaddle combined with the swing, and things have improved vastly. I don't even care that he's not sleeping in his bassinet, just as long as he's sleeping somewhere that allows me to get some sleep, too. In fact, he's sleeping in his swing right now, and that's why I'm able to type for your reading pleasure! ;)

Fatherhood comes as naturally to Randy as swimming does to a fish. He was devastated when he had to go back to work, and he misses Jude all day long. When he gets home from work, he rushes over to wherever Jude and I are sitting, scoops Jude up, and holds him for the rest of the evening, lavishing him with snuggles and kisses. He is involved in every aspect of Jude's care, from diapering (yes, even the dirtiest, smelliest ones!), bathing, feeding, and getting him to sleep, to supervising tummy time, talking to him, and rocking him. Jude knows when Daddy's not home, and it's obvious that he is always happy to see Randy when he gets here. I love that he's just as content to sit with Randy as he is to sit with me, and I am so thankful to have an equal partner in this new phase of our lives.

I'm enjoying being a stay at home mom. When Randy went back to work last week, I felt pretty overwhelmed. Of course, that was also the same day that Jude started feeling bad and was perpetually fussy, so I didn't exactly get an easy start, and now I'm sick so my energy level is pretty low. Not the ideal way to begin this journey... However, things are getting easier as I adjust more to my new life, and though I sometimes miss the adult conversation I got every day at work, I very much enjoy having Jude to keep me company every day. He brings me a lot of joy, and although I am often exhausted, it's a happy exhaustion, one I welcome willingly - most of the time! ;)

Love,

Mom

Another pet peeve

2008-11-25T15:59:00.002-06:00

Email forwards are usually not particularly thrilling in and of themselves, but I am getting really tired of receiving forwards obviously meant for Christians. Anyone who knows me well enough to have my email address knows me well enough to know I am not religious. Yet, time and time again, I get emails of generic prayers, urges to send them to everyone I know only if I'm "not ashamed" of god (cause if you delete the obnoxious email forward, you are obviously not worthy of going to heaven - Jesus pays attention to these things), stories about angels, pictures of Jesus, and tangents about taking god out of the Pledge of Allegiance, proclaiming that non-Christians should just "sit down and shut up" because they don't represent the majority. That last one puzzles me a bit - either the sender has forgotten that I'm not religious or they're sending a message that my voice doesn't matter. I frankly don't care whether god is in the Pledge or not, but how rude to say that anyone who isn't a Christian doesn't have the right to an opinion!

Any Christian who claims that Christians in general are persecuted for their beliefs has obviously never been a non-Christian living in the Bible Belt or, for that matter, a Muslim living in America. Most Christians (especially southern baptists) are so self-righteous and spoiled that the simple idea of complete separation of church and state is simply appalling. They fail to recognize that the whole purpose of the United States is to be a culturally diverse melting pot of all faiths, and no matter how strongly they feel that their beliefs are the only right ones in the world, there are millions of people of other faiths (and people who opt out of religion entirely) who feel exactly the same way about their own beliefs. The majority of Christians are so busy being self-righteous and trying to share "the gospel" with everyone in their path that they completely miss the point of religion, which is that religion isn't about being "right" in some big argument, it's about what's right for you, what makes you feel the best about yourself and your life, what comforts you when you need it. It's not going to be the same for everyone, so attempting to convert people far and wide is a wasted effort - inevitably they're going to do what is right for them. And amazingly enough, email forwards aren't going to change their minds.

Almost there - 35 weeks

2008-11-16T20:52:00.003-06:00

Things I am enjoying:

Jude moves A LOT. Even when I'm not feeling so great, feeling him move always makes me feel better and brings a smile to my face.

Everyone in a 50-foot radius can tell I'm pregnant. Strangers smile at me and hold open doors. Not one single stranger has touched my belly or has even asked to. And I never even had to carry a fly swatter!

Family and friends find great joy in feeling Jude kick and roll. The other night I had probably five hands on my belly at once, and Jude was putting on a show. He was not only kicking around but he also had the hiccups, so my belly was bouncing all over the place, much to everyone's amusement and delight. I'm not usually one for being center of attention, but I have to admit it was pretty fun to see everyone's faces light up whenever they felt movement.

Just in the nick of time, we got our new patio done. That had been a source of massive amounts of stress for the past few months, and it is so nice to have that weight lifted from our shoulders at last. We went out and got a decently-priced fire pit, something I've been wanting for ages, and we have been enjoying our patio every night, eating dinner by the fire and roasting marshmallows for dessert while bundled up in fleece blankets. It has been incredibly relaxing and a great way to slow down and destress. It's exactly what we need!

The weather has finally cooled down and I can say that I have been officially cold outside in the evenings. Since i am essentially a walking oven, it is rather refreshing to be cold. It looks like Dallas is getting a real fall after all, and the timing couldn't be better.

This year, Randy and I are helping to plan a massive, 30+ person, inter-family Thanksgiving dinner. We're really looking forward to having everyone together, and it has given us something besides Jude's arrival to plan, count down to, and be excited for, which has really helped time go by more quickly.

13 more days of work. When a particularly annoying patient starts to get under my skin, I take a deep breath and remind myself I may never have to see or talk to them ever again. It brings a smile to my face every time.

Things I am not enjoying:

The swelling. GOOD LORD. My feet are the worst, I know have mentioned this before, but bear with me for they have gotten worse. It's a damn good thing we're not Christmas shopping this year, because I wouldn't make it more than an hour. And my hands are puffy too, they don't even look like my own. The swelling in my hands is causing the site of my wrist surgery two years ago to ache and hurt all over again. I'm not a happy camper on that one. And my face! Holy crap, is it round. I hate having my picture taken now because I don't even look like myself anymore. I look like a version of Keri who lives exclusively off of Twinkies! And while I wish I did, trust me that I have not had a Twinkie in years. You're going to have to take my word on that one.

The difficulty and discomfort of bending over paired with my super clumsiness has resulted in Frustration City. Example: Last night as I was getting ready to climb into bed, I spilled my water all over my side table, the floor, the wall, and the silk bed skirt. Fantastic. I was already in terrible pain - my feet were horribly swollen and hurting pretty badly. I painstakingly mopped up the water, barely able to reach the floor but finally getting most of it. Then, I shook a prenatal vitamin out of the bottle, which promptly fell on the floor. At this point, I was cursing under my breath. I carefully bent down to pick it up, stood back up, and immediately dropped it again. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. By this time, I wanted to throw something, preferably at Karma's big, fat, ugly head.

My back is KILLING ME. In fact, at my checkup this week, I got stuck on the exam table. I laid flat on my back so my OB could measure my belly, and when she asked me to bend my legs, I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. She had to bend my legs for me. THEN she asks me to sit up. How the hell did she expect me to sit up if I couldn't BEND MY LEGS? She suggested rolling over onto my side to get up. That wasn't going to happen. I don't know how much clearer the words I CANNOT MOVE can be, but apparently they weren't nearly clear enough. Finally, Randy stepped over, put his arm around me, and sat me up. It hurt SO bad. All I could do for several minutes was just sit there and deal with the pain. My OB seemed to be in a particularly unsympathetic mood, asked if I had any other questions or concerns (you mean BESIDES the paralysis you just witnessed and the unrelenting pain, right?), told me to take my time recovering, and was gone. And ever since that day, I have to be careful to move very slowly and not make any sudden movements. In fact, I sneezed just now and had a horrible stabbing pain in my back. It's like I threw out my back without actually doing anything. Fun.

Phrases/Questions I am tired of hearing:

"Are you excited?" Not at all, thanks for asking.

"Has your due date changed?" Yes, Jude emailed my OB and let her know that he would prefer to stay another 2 months.

"Do you know what you're having?" Well, I'm hoping for a baby, but I would settle for a giraffe. Or a duck. Or perhaps a big sack of cash, that would explain the unsightly weight gain.

"Oh, you're naming your baby Jude? Like Jude Law!" Congratulations, you've heard the name Jude before. I guess that's what celebrities are there for, right?

"Is he moving right now?" This is usually accompanied by a hand moving in my direction. I don't think people trust that I will tell them when he's moving, so they just ask. And usually when they ask, he's not. And guess what? When he does, I usually say so and invite whoever we're with to feel it. Yet people still ask. Constantly.

"Oh, it's hard right here!" Well, there IS a baby in there. There's really no place for him to hide, so chances are you're going to be able to tell where he is, and since he's not a teddy bear, yeah, you're going to feel hardness. You'd be surprised how many people make this exclamation when feeling my belly, it never fails. Sometimes people say, "Oh, he's hard!" and I have great difficulty refraining from saying, "That's what she said!"

And one last thing, we found the perfect pediatrician! I am always nervous when picking a new doctor, but the pediatrician we met with this week seemed to be a great fit. So I am really excited about that, Jude is all set!

Foggy

2008-11-11T12:02:00.002-06:00

I would very much like to write a post about something entertaining or profound or even tangential just for kicks, but there is a fog in my head that has been hard to shake out. There's a lot swimming around in that fog, but none of it seems very coherent.

45 Days

2008-11-08T20:07:00.000-06:00

There are only 45 days left until I meet my baby boy! A month and a half. I know the time will fly by, as it tends to do, but I can't help but wonder if I can SURVIVE another 45 days like this!
I feel like a beached whale. A beached whale with swollen marshmallow feet. But as marshmallowy as they are, they do not feel light and fluffy; they feel like bricks. My hands are puffy enough that my wedding ring no longer fits. It's very strange to look down at my hand and not see my wedding band. It makes me sad. And I'm sure when people see my big pregnant belly and ringless left hand, they probably think I got drunk and was impregnated by a stranger from a bar. Or something like that. For awhile, I tried wearing my wedding ring on a gold chain around my neck, but then I started worrying about the chain breaking and losing the ring, the chain scratching the ring, etc. so I stopped. The indentation I used to have on my left ring finger has nearly faded away, and I don't have a tan so there's no tan line. Sigh.

Sleeping is also a joke now. My hips get so stiff and sore during the night that those trips to the bathroom every 90 minutes are torturous. I don't mind the waking up part, it's the battle to get out of bed that kills me. Since my legs are basically useless, I have to use my arms to drag myself to the edge of the bed. I then swing my legs over the side, moaning in pain, then hoist myself up on my feet. Then begins the slow, painful hobble to the bathroom. It's only a few feet away, but it seems much further. And that's if I'm already facing the edge of the bed. Having to roll over makes this process take twice as long and makes it twice as painful. If I'm facing toward the middle of the bed, I have to roll over in stages. Each stage is slower and more painful than the one before it. Somehow, Randy manages to sleep right through this ordeal every single time. Amazing.

Have I mentioned my belly is huge? Well, my belly is huge. I need to take an updated photo. My belly button is making its way outward, which I find both creepy and fascinating. Jude is a mover and a shaker, so my belly is always doing something interesting. It's cheap entertainment, I admit. He's usually up as high as he can go, with his butt jutting out in an awkward, tumor-looking bump in the upper-most right section of my belly. His feet make their own awkward bump on the left. Sometimes we can feel his toes if he's got his foot in just the right position - a position that is usually one of the more uncomfortable ones for me. The only thing that makes it better is feeling those tiny toes and seeing the look of glee on Randy's face when he feels them.

Speaking of Randy, I am going to take a moment to brag that I have the Best Husband on Earth. Earlier this week, he got out of work a couple hours early, unbeknownst to me. Instead of going home to relax or work on projects, he surprised me by showing up in my office. He was there, he said, specifically to give me a foot massage. That's right, not only will he *touch* my marshmallow feet, he will actually make a special trip out of his way to rub them. I could not possibly ask for more than that. He has been wonderful through the entire duration of this pregnancy, but that gesture truly proved his awesomeness. I don't know how he could possibly top that one, but it was so impressive that he really doesn't need to!

Much to our excitement, the nursery is well on its way to being ready. This week we got a beautiful white crib that goes perfectly with the other furniture and decor of the room. It's modern but also has more traditional lines, which plays nicely into both the more modern dresser and glider and the more traditional side table, which was originally my great-grandfather's and has been restored by Randy. I love it! My mother-in-law will be making a custom slipcover for the glider to match the color and pattern scheme of the room, and I can't wait to see the end results!

Jude is in the 80th percentile size-wise. He's doing very well, and like I mentioned above he is keeping us entertained. My boss has started a pool at work to guess when Jude will make his grand entrance. At $20 a ticket, I feel special to be gambled over. My boss is convinced I won't make it past December 15. I'm due December 23, so I would be thrilled if he were right. Jude will be the one deciding the winner's fate, though. He's not even born yet and he's already got people on their toes! Now that's power. I actually think it would be quite lovely if he were 2-3 weeks early, but I don't know that Mother Nature is that gracious. But hey, I pick up trash in the alley, I recycle, and I try to minimize energy consumption, so maybe she'll smile upon me and return the favor.

Hey Mother Nature, maybe you can reduce MY energy consumption and send Jude out early. An easy labor would also be wonderful. Thanks.

45 Days

2008-11-08T11:53:00.002-06:00

There are only 45 days left until I meet my baby boy! A month and a half. I know the time will fly by, as it tends to do, but I can't help but wonder if I can SURVIVE another 45 days like this!

I feel like a beached whale. A beached whale with swollen marshmallow feet. But as marshmallowy as they are, they do not feel light and fluffy; they feel like bricks. My hands are puffy enough that my wedding ring no longer fits. It's very strange to look down at my hand and not see my wedding band. It makes me sad. And I'm sure when people see my big pregnant belly and ringless left hand, they probably think I got drunk and was impregnated by a stranger from a bar. Or something like that. For awhile, I tried wearing my wedding ring on a gold chain around my neck, but then I started worrying about the chain breaking and losing the ring, the chain scratching the ring, etc. so I stopped. The indentation I used to have on my left ring finger has nearly faded away, and I don't have a tan so there's no tan line. Sigh.

Sleeping is also a joke now. My hips get so stiff and sore during the night that those trips to the bathroom every 90 minutes are torturous. I don't mind the waking up part, it's the battle to get out of bed that kills me. Since my legs are basically useless, I have to use my arms to drag myself to the edge of the bed. I then swing my legs over the side, moaning in pain, then hoist myself up on my feet. Then begins the slow, painful hobble to the bathroom. It's only a few feet away, but it seems much further. And that's if I'm already facing the edge of the bed. Having to roll over makes this process take twice as long and makes it twice as painful. If I'm facing toward the middle of the bed, I have to roll over in stages. Each stage is slower and more painful than the one before it. Somehow, Randy manages to sleep right through this ordeal every single time. Amazing.

Have I mentioned my belly is huge? Well, my belly is huge. I need to take an updated photo. My belly button is making its way outward, which I find both creepy and fascinating. Jude is a mover and a shaker, so my belly is always doing something interesting. It's cheap entertainment, I admit. He's usually up as high as he can go, with his butt jutting out in an awkward, tumor-looking bump in the upper-most right section of my belly. His feet make their own awkward bump on the left. Sometimes we can feel his toes if he's got his foot in just the right position - a position that is usually one of the more painful ones for me. The only thing that makes it better is feeling those tiny toes and seeing the look of glee on Randy's face when he feels them.

Speaking of Randy, I am going to take a moment to brag that I have the Best Husband on Earth. Earlier this week, he got out of work a couple hours early, unbeknownst to me. Instead of going home to relax or work on projects, he surprised me by showing up in my office. He was there, he said, specifically to give me a foot massage. That's right, not only will he *touch* my marshmallow feet, he will actually make a special trip out of his way to rub them. I could not possibly ask for more than that. He has been wonderful through the entire duration of this pregnancy, but that gesture truly proved his awesomeness. I don't know how he could possibly top that one, but it was so impressive that he really doesn't need to!

Much to our excitement, the nursery is well on its way to being ready. This week we got a beautiful white crib that goes perfectly with the other furniture and decor of the room. It's modern but also has more traditional lines, which plays nicely into both the more modern dresser and glider and the more traditional side table, which was originally my great-grandfather's and has been restored by Randy. I love it! My mother-in-law will be making a custom slipcover for the glider to match the color and pattern scheme of the room, and I can't wait to see the end results!

Jude is in the 80th percentile size-wise. He's doing very well, and like I mentioned above he is keeping us entertained. My boss has started a pool at work to guess when Jude will make his grand entrance. At $20 a ticket, I feel special to be gambled over. My boss is convinced I won't make it past December 15. I'm due December 23, so I would be thrilled if he were right. Jude will be the one deciding the winner's fate, though. He's not even born yet and he's already got people on their toes! Now that's power. I actually think it would be quite lovely if he were 2-3 weeks early, but I don't know that Mother Nature is that gracious. But hey, I pick up trash in the alley, I recycle, and I try to minimize energy consumption, so maybe she'll smile upon me and return the favor.

Hey Mother Nature, maybe you can reduce MY energy consumption and send Jude out early. An easy labor would also be wonderful. Thanks.

Diatribe

2008-11-05T13:57:00.003-06:00

Barack Obama has been elected the next President of the United States. I am so proud of America (or at least the ones who voted) for pulling together and showing the world that we are not so ignorant after all. I know that we will make significant progress toward making our country and the world a better place to live.

However, the afterglow of this historically monumentous election is not so rosy for everyone. There are still those who truly believe that with Barack Obama as president, our country will crumble at our feet. "He's going to ruin the healthcare system!" they cry. "The economy is going to whither and die! Everyone will lose their jobs! The terrorists are going to get us! Every pregnant woman in America is going to run out and get an abortion! He's going to take our guns away! He's going to turn America into a socialist country! Before you know it, we'll be COMMUNIST! AND HOLY SHIT HE IS THE ANTICHRIST AND WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!"

People, I don't think you've been paying attention.

If you don't think the healthcare system in the United States is broken and needs fixing, you are either very blind or very lucky. If you think the economy can get worse than it already is, then I would encourage you to take a look at what has already happened - there is nowhere to go but up when you hit rock bottom. The same applies to the unemployment rate. If you're lucky enough to still have a job, thank your lucky stars and stop complaining. If you don't think the terrorists have already gotten us, watch footage of 9/11 again and be thankful that in 7 years, we haven't seen another attack. And with a new president who isn't trigger happy on the red button, we're now much less likely to attract enemies and more likely to build allies. And if you think the abortion laws are going to change any time soon, you're kidding yourself. If you don't like the laws in your state, move somewhere else with tighter restrictions. And if you think life is so sacred inside the womb, stop being a hypocrite and try applying the same value to all human life - stop screaming about welfare and try helping those truly in need. As a child, my family was on welfare, and it was not the picnic you think it is. And President Obama doesn't want to take anyone's goddamn guns away. If guns are your priority - and I feel sorry for you if they are - you can rest assured that you can keep them. Just be responsible with them. And as for the socialist/communist comments, the only sense I can make of those people is that they must be REALLY paranoid. Think Cold War paranoid. Everyone accusing everyone else of being communist. That was ridiculous. And saying that America will become communist if everyone is allowed equal access to MEDICAL CARE is ridiculous. Have you even been paying attention? If you already have insurance, and you like it, KEEP IT. IT'S YOURS. Those who aren't as fortunate to have insurance handed to them on a silver platter have the choice (that's CHOICE, NOT mandate) of accessing the same health care plan that members of the United States Congress have. It's not free, and no one is making you do it. How is that even close to socialism? Oh right, the government provides the coverage instead of a company. Big deal. Either way it's a beaurocracy, deal with it and move on. The only mandate regarding healthcare will be for children; all children must have health insurance. If you don't think your children deserve quality healthcare, then move to Mexico or Africa and let them suffer needlessly if you think that's a better alternative. And you know what, I am sick and tired of hearing that Obama is the antichrist. Many people over the years have been called antichrists, and you know what? None of them were. They are all just people. Some of them bad people, some of them good people. But they are people nonetheless. Every single one of them started as a baby in their mother's womb (you know, that helpless life that is just so darn precious). Every single one of them had to learn to walk, go through potty training and puberty, and deal with everyday life just like everyone else. Hitler was not the antichrist, he was just a bad person who was probably psychiatrically ill. Barack Obama is not the antichrist, he's just a good man trying to make a difference in the world. GET OVER IT.

It makes me sad that people are so afraid of change that they jump to all of these ridiculous conclusions. People lament that Obama has "sold" the American people false promises under the pretense of caring about our wellbeing. Is it really this bad? Have people become so jaded and cynical that they cannot possibly muster even an ounce of optimism? Is it really so outlandish to think that maybe someone really does want to change our country for the better? That is truly sad. If that is the case, then not only have our past leaders let us down, but most of all we have let ourselves down as well.

This morning I overheard a man telling someone that Obama would be shot by the time he'd been in office 3 weeks. And the other person LAUGHED. This is how bad it has gotten. This is what I'm talking about. America may have turned a page in history by electing its first black president, but our culture is far too jaded to let racism go and give positive change a fighting chance.

Still A Boy

2008-11-02T02:42:00.004-06:00

Yesterday was the big day! We had our sonogram first thing in the morning cause we knew we wouldn't be able to wait any longer. Having it scheduled on a Friday made the week tortorous enough as it was!

The sonogram tech at my doctor's office is so great. She didn't make us wait for what we were most anxious about; she went straight for the crotch shot and confirmed, "He's still a boy!" Then she said, "Yep, definitely a turtle," which we got a kick out of. What a relief that was, and it made us excited all over again to be having a boy! After all the dreams we've had about having a girl, it's good to know it's all in our heads. I have a feeling those dreams might stop now; it was probably just our subconcsious throwing our anxieties in our faces. Sometimes it does that.

Our boy is healthy and, well...big. His head alone measures about 3 weeks further along than he really is, and at 32 1/2 weeks, he already weighs about 5 lbs 1 oz. With 7 1/2 weeks left, gaining about 1/2 a pound a week, that puts him at 8 1/2 to 9 lbs. Eep, I am definitely rethinking going natural! I guess we'll see.

He's a funny little character too. Once all the measurements were done, she let us just look at his face for several minutes, and he spent most of that time yawning., over and over again. I guess we were boring him! It was too funny though. She captured a great image of him in mid-yawn, you can see his little gums and tongue and everything. It's so cute! I'll be posting the sonogram pictures soon. I tried to get them scanned in today, but I had some technical difficulty and finally just gave up. The computer my scanner is hooked up to has been having some weird issues lately, I think it's possessed. We also got the entire sonogram on video, thanks to Randy and my camera. It's really nice to be able to watch it whenever we want and to see all the little things we didn't catch the first time around, like the squigly lines on top of his head that we are pretty sure is hair, and of course just to see our little guy in motion!
Anyway, he is such a cutie pie and we are so excited to be less than 8 weeks away from meeting him!

30 Weeks!

2008-10-14T23:50:00.003-05:00

This is the day that I know Randy has been waiting for, the day I turn 30 weeks pregnant. I know he's been waiting for it because in weeks 28 and 29, he kept saying how he couldn't wait until we reached 30, because it just sounded like more. Well, that's because it is!

In just 10 short weeks, I'll get to evict my little tenant and go back to having my body be a single-occupancy unit. He hasn't been paying his rent, and he parties way too hard. Sometimes I think he's swinging from a chandelier in there. So this is his official 10 week eviction notice. Plans to vacate should be made accordingly. (All joking aside, I am thrilled to be in the home stretch and I can't wait to meet my little guy!)

Is it sad that I have almost forgotten what it's like to not be pregnant? Sleeping on my back or stomach is but a distant, fond memory. What is it like to not have my hips and back hurt? I don't know. What was life like before I had to take daily antacids? I can't remember. And what exactly do my feet and ankles look like when they're not swollen? I hope to someday find out. I think my brain used to work too...I just hope my brain function returns; if it doesn't, I feel sorry for....well, pretty much everyone. The sheer prospect of having a baby on the outside of me, separate from myself, is too delightful for words. When I get tired I can - holy crap - let someone else hold him! Oh, the things I can do! Bend over! Tie my shoes! Get out of bed without the assistance of a crane!

At 32 weeks we'll be due for another sonogram. You have no idea how anxiously I am looking forward to this. You see, Randy and I keep having dreams that the baby is a girl. And you know all those old wives' tales that supposedly tell the gender of your unborn child? I have about three "symptoms" that indicate a boy, and pretty much all the rest point to a girl. I know, those old wives' tales are a bunch of hokey. But combine them with pregnancy hormones, and you get OH MY GOD WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE. How emotionally exhausting would it be to suddenly find out it's a girl after months of thinking it was a boy? I'd have to retrain my whole brain. Learn to use a different name, a different pronoun, and a whole different mindset. The art on the wall that spells JUDE would suddenly be totally useless, the boy clothes that we've gotten so far would be useless, and...oh my god....I'd have to redo the whole registry, pick out different bedding, and cross my fingers that Target took returns and/or exchanges for things bought more than 90 days ago. Like...THE BEDDING. So you can imagine the anxiety that will accompany these next two long weeks. (I know, I know, a minute ago I said I had just 10 "short" weeks, and now 2 weeks are long? THIS IS HOW PREGNANT WOMEN THINK) While I would be thrilled to have a girl, just as thrilled as having a boy, I don't think I could handle having my world turned upside down. So that fuzzy blob the technician said was a penis in the 18 week sonogram had better still be there when we look for it!

Guess what?

2008-10-09T13:58:00.002-05:00

I have made my triumphant return to my blog. It's been over two years since I last posted - frankly, I forgot about it. I was distracted by myspace and facebook. I'm such a sell out.

A lot has changed in those two years. My husband and I bought a house and we have a baby on the way in the next few months. I guess you could say I'm in a different place in life now, which I would take as a compliment since it would be sad if nothing had changed at all. A stagnant life is not exactly what I strive for, thanks very much.

And that's not all that's changed. Family and friend dynamics have seen major shifts, my husband and I are both starting up businesses for ourselves, and our day to day lives are vastly different even in the mundane details. It's funny how you don't realize just how much your life evolves until you look back on it, even just two years into the past. I'm sure that two years from now, I'll look back and marvel at how much life has changed. Heck, less than three months from now, life will change so drastically it'll make my head spin, so I can only imagine what things will be like two years from now. We might even have a smart president! Now THAT'S change!

"Nesting": Dumbest word ever created

2008-09-10T07:38:00.000-05:00

I would like to know who came up with using the word "nesting" to describe getting your new baby's room organized and ready. They were probably an idiot.

If you ask me, "nesting" sounds like a mockery. "Oh, she's in nesting mode. Isn't that cute." Well, HELLO, what do you expect? The room to ready itself? Or perhaps the room should have been there all along, ready and waiting for a pint-sized tenant to someday show up on the doorstep. Someone's gotta do it, were you expecting it to be fairies? Dwarves? Knomes?

And worse than other people saying it is pregnant women themselves using it! What is so wrong with saying "Time to get the room ready so we'll be prepared for the baby!"? Why is it, "Time for nesting!" or some other dumb proclamation? "Nesting" is just one of those cutesy words that are supposed to make pregnancy sound like a carefree frolic in a meadow teeming with wildflowers, then when the time is right, "Peekaboo! Here comes baby!" and the rosy-cheeked little cherub appears in mommy's arms like magic.

I am not a mother hen. I am not on an organizing spree just for the fun of it. I am not picking paint colors and folding onesies we've received as gifts because I have nothing better to do. I have always found it better to plan ahead and be organized than to wait and throw everything together at the last minute. This is because I am mostly Sane. Would it be better to chuck those onesies into a heaping pile on the floor? Is that what it would take to avoid that stupid word?

Luckily, no one has suggested yet that I am in "nesting mode." But it's coming, it's undeniably coming. Pregnancy books use "nesting", as do websites and email newsletters and probably even obstetricians. It's inescapable. And it's incredibly annoying. And although no one has used it on me yet, I'm already tired of it. I find it incredibly condescending, and I feel sorry for that first person who tells me I'm in "nesting mode." I bet they won't say it again!

10 is Not Enough

2008-08-21T15:40:00.003-05:00

10 Things I Hate About Being Pregnant

1. Unsolicited advice

Wobbly-bellied men who have never eaten a lentil telling me, "That won't be good for the baby"; an anorexic old woman looking me up and down at a buffet and then warning me "not to eat too much, dear"; carrot-heads advising me to eat nothing that contains cow's milk or that has in any sense been heated - I have honestly and truly had it all.

But the free advice for pregnant women service is not limited to dietary guidance - far from it. Never have so many had so much to say, with so little excuse, to so few.

These are just three of the tips I have had so far from virtual strangers: never breastfeed on demand (you will turn your baby into a mini Hitler); never let the baby sleep in your bed after it is three months old (you will never have another good night's sleep again - fact); and be sure to use non-toxic paint on the walls of "the nursery".
True, some of the advice is good, but unless I ask for it, it's pretty safe to assume I don't want to hear it. Thanks.

2. People suggesting that I might be mistaking caffeine/alcohol/nicotine withdrawal for morning sickness

May you all boil in hell.
boiling in hell sounds appropriate

3. The comfort of women who have been pregnant, but did not suffer from morning sickness

During the three months I spent half-dead and grey at the gills, every day a trial, my mother told me that when she was pregnant with me (aged 19) she was still doing handstands at eight and a half months. I told her, rather grimly, that I had never done a handstand in my life, and did not intend to start while pregnant, but she persevered: she had never had any sickness whatsoever, she revealed, not a day of it. Perhaps it was my age (33)?

My mother, it became clear, was not the only one to have had a perfectly lovely, nausea-free pregnancy. A whole clutch of women, on learning of my morning sickness, responded with: "Oh, poor you! How funny - you know, I was absolutely fine. Not a moment's sickness. Probably never felt better - really bursting with energy!"
I would like to smack these people

4. People asking how "the baby" is

The answer is that I have no idea: I don't wear x-ray specs and I don't have an ultrasound scanner on my desk. For all I know, it could be dead or mutating into a space turtle, or both. But thank you for asking.
Seriously! Your guess is as good as mine, people! It's not like he emails me from the womb!

5. The being invisibly pregnant stage

Ah, what cruel irony that during the long first weeks of pregnancy, when you really, really need to sit down on the bus, no one will stand up for you.
oh yes...cruel irony indeed

6. Pregnant language

The words "bump" and "show" (as in "her bump was beginning to show") need to be banned, and quite urgently. Ditto "bouncing", "bundle" and "joy". And really I do find "maternity" almost unbearably twee, but it's a tough one to give up.
Yeah, kinda...

7. Length of gestation

Pregnancy does not take nine months, it takes 40 weeks, which is really 10 months, and that is, to all intents and purposes, a year. We are practically elephants, but without the advantages of great nobility, lovely scenery and a trunk. I would suggest 20 weeks as a more appropriate time frame.
amen

8. Random abdominal surveys

Midwifery qualifications, years in obstetrics, etc, are all very well, but any keen amateur can and will size up a pregnant woman's belly at a glance and then instantly calculate whether she is big/small for "dates".

Cries of, "You're quite small/big, aren't you?", "I can't believe you've still got another two/three/four months to go!", and, "Are you sure it's not twins?" are nothing out of the ordinary for any pregnant woman in her second or third trimester.
"Is that YOU or the baby?" in reference to someone's pregnant belly is probably in the top 5 of What Not to Say. Thanks, Mom. :P

9. The weird swellage

I naturally assumed that I would wear low-cut trousers for months and months, and that there would be no ugly business of Michelin man-style maternity wear until the very last. But this was a schoolgirl error.

Swellage does not start where you expect it to, and long before I had anything approaching a convex belly, wearing "normal" trousers was a trial. Before I knew it I was waddling around in a friend's cast-off maternity trousers, with the crazily strappy top bit rolled down, and being vastly irritated by stories of so-and-so being 18 months pregnant and still in her size-four jeans.
ugh, yes

10. The fact that I may actually soon become a parent - like, not just for a year or something, but for ages and ages

This is the real cruncher. Chatting about scans and the weird men who leer at pregnant bellies is all well and good, but the idea that I will ever have a conversation about schooling... that I find hard to stomach.
I actually look forward to parenting so....yeah, I'm gonna have to disagree with this one

--------------------

I would like to add to this list.

11. Whoever said pregnant women could just eat and eat, whatever they want, as much as they want, obviously has never had to rely on Zantac just to get through the day AND night. And at gatherings, everyone seems to assume you're going to want seconds, thirds, hell just take all of it, CAUSE YOU'RE PREGNANT AND HUNGRY. FEEL FREE TO EAT THE CURTAINS IF THERE'S NOT ENOUGH FOOD. Fact: My meal sizes haven't changed a bit. I can still barely finish what's on my plate. I just happen to get hungry more frequently, so I snack a bit more. Stop throwing food at me.

12. My ankles have turned against me. Helping my husband clean the garage for about an hour and a half rendered me practically unable to walk. My ankles were so swollen, and my feet hurt so much, that at bedtime I couldn't even fathom walking all the way to the kitchen for a glass of water and my effing Zantac. I just couldn't do it. And I felt like the world's biggest wimp. It doesn't help that I sprained my right ankle 2 weeks before I got pregnant - it hasn't bothered me until now, when my body has used that advantage to lord over me and add pain to my discomfort. I hate you, mother nature.

13. The wandering hands. The occasional touch from a close friend or family member is fine, but I'd still prefer that they at least waited for an invitation first. And if you're going to touch, don't ask me what this bump or that lump is, or worse, proclaim to know exactly what they are. "This must be the head!" Um, I doubt that, but thanks. Now it's my turn to rub your tummy and guess your lumps! Oh, and worst of all - do NOT, under any circumstances, acknowledge that you KNOW I don't like unsolicited touching, and THEN DO IT ANYWAY. Holy crap, are you looking for the fast track to my bad list? Cause you just found it.

14. People who ask, "How many months are you?" First of all, it's none of your business. Secondly, I'm going to answer in weeks, because that's a more accurate measure. Better yet, just get away from me right now.

15. People who ask what name you've chosen, THEN GIVE THEIR NEGATIVE OPINION ON IT AND/OR TRY TO CHANGE YOUR MIND. I guess I forgot I was supposed to take a poll, then hold a vote on my child's name. I didn't realize your stance on a name was so firm that it should carry over into my own! Conversely, a tight-lipped "Oh" is just as bad - especially when it's your dentist who is also holding your mouth open while jabbing your gums with a sharp instrument.

Development

2008-08-09T15:41:00.001-05:00

The weeks are flying by and little Jude is getting bigger and bigger in my belly. My belly's getting bigger too, which is kind of strange for me because my whole life I've sucked in my gut to look smaller and now I'm supposed to be proud of my bulge? It's hard to train my brain to accept this weird concept, but I don't have much of a choice anymore!

I feel Jude kicking daily now, which is the coolest thing ever! It's still too gentle for Randy to feel, which of course drives him crazy. Every time I say I can feel him move, he runs over and puts his hands and head on my belly, and he is always so disappointed that he can't feel it like I can. It breaks my heart to see him so eager yet so disappointed. I keep reminding him that it won't be long before he can feel those kicks. It'll be really fun when he can, because right now he'll talk into my belly and whether it's his voice or the vibrations from it, Baby Jude thinks it's just the best thing ever and starts wiggling like crazy. So it'll be fun for Randy to see that direct cause and effect, when "Hello, Jude!" gets him kicked in the face! And I mean that as sweetly as possible!

I'm 20 weeks and 4 days, so technically I'm over halfway through my pregnancy by those 4 days. Not that I'm counting....ok, yes I am. Being pregnant really isn't very fun. After being thrilled to have it go away for a few weeks, I've now started having nausea in the mornings again. It's not as strong, but it's still a drag. I also have heartburn every single day, and I never had it before I was prego. All it takes is bending over to, say, put on my shoes, and here it comes. Also, when people complain about their sinuses being stopped up, it's hard to have any sympathy for them. Mine have been congested since April, which has been coupled with a chronically sore throat (breathing with my mouth open at night? who knows) and an intermittent persistent cough. So unless you've had allergies or the like for as long or longer, don't come crying to me! You'll get a half-hearted "I'm sorry" and possibly a dirty look.
But, of course, I'm not only counting down because I'm tired of being pregnant (and tired). The real reason is because I want to meet my baby boy! I would much rather be exhausted from caring for my son day and night than from silly hormones. I can't wait to see his face (his real face, not the Skeletor version), to hold him, to dress him in the tiny onesies waiting in his dresser.

July Got Away From Me

2008-07-31T20:05:00.002-05:00

Whoa, it's been over a month since I've posted anything! I think this has been one of those instances when there is too much to say that it makes putting a coherent blog entry together seem impossible. That and laziness.

I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to do a quick rundown. Perhaps bullet points will help. I'll try to go in chronological order.

* The tide turned and our luck went from bad to good. We were able to place Bentley with the wonderful people of the Great Dane Rescue of North Texas. We miss him, but he is in caring and extremely capable hands who will find him the perfect home. Our house is back to the way it used to be, quiet and calm, and from time to time we miss his bustling energy and fun personality. It's nice to have our life back to normal, though.

* While our luck was down and our stress level up, we felt like the weight of the world was on our shoulders. We had multiple house projects to plan (and a December deadline!), lots of things going wrong with our cars including a check engine light that just wouldn't die, our dryer went out in the middle of laundry day, we had low funds in large part due to the excessive costs of helping a near 100 pound dog get and stay healthy, Randy hating his job more and more each day...you get the idea. And while under normal circumstances we could probably have trucked along just fine, with a baby on the way and emotions running high, it seemed like our lives were crumbling at our feet. When we solved one problem, five more would immediately pop up. Randy was working 7 days a week some weeks, we had less and less time to get things done, and it felt as though we'd lost control. We were feeling pretty low. Luckily, getting Bentley situated was the key turning point; things slowed down, hope was renewed, and help was offered. Randy was able to fix the dryer and my car, our money situation has improved, and we're home more now. Sometimes we even get to relax.

* In case you haven't heard yet, we're having a boy! We are thrilled beyond words. Honestly, we were expecting to have a girl for some reason, so when the sonogram tech said "boy" we were stunned! But there it was, plain as day. Our little Jude. It took a little while for it to sink in with me (when you just KNOW it's a girl for 4 months, it's hard to switch out of that gear!), but it hit Randy immediately. As I sat there trying to absorb the discovery, he cried tears of joy. It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen. And it wasn't because he wanted a boy oh so badly, like people seem to think every guy wants - all he wants is a BABY; a healthy, beautiful baby. (Honestly, if one more person says, "A boy? Wow! I bet Randy's especially excited!" I think I will have to punch them. That is so stereotypical and not at all even close to reality. Of course he's excited, but he would have been just as excited if it had been a girl. People are so annoying.) Anyway, it has definitely sunk in with me now and I am so thrilled to have a sweet baby boy on the way. I can't wait to meet him.

* Last weekend we finally had our garage sale. Last weekend was also the hottest weekend of the year. In spite of the heat, it was a success and we met the goal I'd set in my head. Thankfully, we had some very generous donations from family members to sell; without those we wouldn't have come anywhere close to our goal. Probably not even halfway. So we are very thankful for those donations, especially the ones that sold well. And everything that didn't sell was donated to Goodwill. Hello, tax deduction!

Well, I guess that's it really. Um, except for me pushing Randy into a pool on the 4th and destroying his phone. That's a story for another time. Or never.

Vacation is a Cure-All

2006-05-16T21:24:00.000-05:00

I was feeling pretty on edge last week. I needed to get away. Fast.

But on Friday, we went on a little vacation to the coast and it was like BOOM - instant happiness. I think I'm going to need to live near the ocean again someday.

This was the view from our condo's balcony. I just about died when I laid eyes on it.

The weather was perfect, the beach was clean, the water was clear, and I was happy. Wonderfully, deliriously happy. I miss the ocean already, and I've only been away from it for 2 days. Since our return, I've reached the conclusion that Dallas smells weird. It's a hard scent to describe, sort of metallic and coppery. It's not exactly pleasant, and I don't like it. I want the fresh, salty breeze back and I even miss the sound of those annoying seagulls (who by the way insisted on waking us up at the crack of dawn every morning). I think it's safe to say I'm a ocean girl at heart, and no amount of lakes, no matter how large or nice, will suffice to bring me as much peace and joy as the ocean does.

In two months I will finally be going to California again, I have my fingers crossed that we will visit my old friend the Pacific, but I'm not counting on it so as not to get my hopes up too high. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, though.

Mobile Home

2006-05-11T12:26:00.000-05:00

This morning I continued my weeklong tradition of sleeping too late to get to work on time, although it would have helped a lot to get there early. I had a quick errand to take care of before heading in the direction of my office, and on my way there I saw something that both confused and amused me. A truck was hauling half of a large manufactured home down the street, taking up all three lanes of traffic and going about 20 miles an hour. I smiled as it passed through the intersection I was waiting at, just glad I wasn't one of the cars stuck behind it. I wished I'd had my camera with me, but otherwise I didn't give it any further thought.

Once I was finished with my errand, I was finally on my way to work, driving hurriedly so that I could get there as soon as possible. After all, every minute counts. I got to the intersection for the main road I take every day, a four-mile straight-shot to my office, just as the traffic light turned yellow, then red. I paused and looked to my left, ready to turn right, when I saw it. The behemoth that was that half-house was heading in my direction. I hesitated just one second too long, and before I could think twice about it, the house passed me. I had no choice but to turn right and follow it, after all it was the shortest way to work. I was trapped.

Like I said, the house took up all three lanes of traffic, and you couldn't even see the truck that was hauling it. It just looked like half a house was floating down the street at school-zone speed, with a dozen or so cars trailing impatiently behind it. At first I was annoyed since I was in a hurry and I was now doomed to drive at half the speed limit for who knows how long, but the sight of this floating house quickly turned my annoyance into amusement.

I wish I'd had my camera, or even better, my video camera. You could tell that everyone on the road wanted to pass up this floating house, but it was impossible. The more frustrated everyone else got, the funnier I found the situation to be. The best part was when the floating house came to a section of road where trees overhang the far right lane. The house would sway to the left to avoid the branches, and I KNOW everyone had their fingers crossed that maybe - just MAYBE - the house would turn onto to another road and everyone could go back to their speeding, but it always proved to be false hope.

I followed the house all the way to work, until there was a line of about 30 cars putting along at 20 miles an hour behind it. I bet I was the only one laughing, everyone else looked (and drove) like they wanted to murder who ever was driving the truck. I got to work a little later than I would have liked, but the sheer amusement was so worth it!

birthday blues

2006-05-09T11:22:00.000-05:00

So yesterday was my birthday. We had 3 different celebrations covering a span of three days, and overall they were all very enjoyable. In fact, I would call them successes. I got some great gifts, had some delicious dinners, and had a lot of fun with my family and friends. Nothing went wrong, more friends showed up than I would have thought (I have friends??!!), and on Sunday I got to be a kid again, playing catch, frisbee, hide and go seek, and monkey in the middle well into the evening, until the fireflies came out and it became too dark to see. I'd almost forgotten how great that can be, and I went home feeling so young and happy and carefree.

However, I haven't been this depressed in a long time.

Last week I was feeling pretty down, and I had no real reason for it, but by the end of the week I was back to my normal self.

I can't quite figure out why I feel so sad, although I'm pretty sure it has something to do with my dad forgetting my birthday and not calling. I wasn't expecting a gift; after all he didn't give me a Christmas gift either. The gift part doesn't really matter though, it's that he didn't even call. This is so damn typical of him though, so I don't even know why I expected anything at all.

I normally don't get sad on my birthday, and I feel so silly. After all, 97% of the people in my life gave me a wonderful, thoughtful birthday and put a lot of effort into making me feel special. I guess you can't help how you feel, even when you know better.

Baffling people left and right

2006-04-28T17:14:00.000-05:00

I haven't been myself the past few days. I can't put my finger on why, though.

Poor Randy, during our 2 daily phone conversations, and when I come home from work each day, he keeps asking "What's wrong?" and telling me that I sound down. I tell him that I'm not down, and there's really nothing for me to be down about.

Last night he again told me I seemed down and asked if anything was wrong. He looked concerned.

I sighed. "Nothing's wrong really, but I guess I do feel down. I don't know why though."

"I kinda feel the same way," he said. We agreed that maybe it was just one of those things.

I talked to him today, though, and he sounded upbeat. I still spoke in monotone. He didn't ask what was wrong, but you could tell he wanted to. He asked if I was ok, and I said yes. He's probably wondering what's up with me, but honestly I don't even know.

I can also tell my mom wants to ask me if I'm ok but doesn't want to seem intrusive. Every monotonous sentence or fake laugh that tumbles out of my mouth is met by a slight pause, followed by a cautious procession with the conversation. I try to disguise the monotone and make my voice sound brighter, but I think she's on to me.

I think I'm going to go ahead and chalk it up to hormones or something and try to cheer up, because this isn't working for me. If I'm going to feel down, I want to at least know why. Being blue is just annoying if there's no reason behind it.

Administrative Professionals Day

2006-04-26T15:46:00.000-05:00

My birthday is in a week and a half, and I'm contemplating whether to take the day off. Perhaps I'll meet myself halfway and just work half a day. After all, free lunch will be brought into work that day, and since the drug rep knows it's my birthday, she said she will bring me the food of my choosing. That alone is worth coming in for, and even if I stayed home I'm pretty sure I'd just wind up cleaning the house or something, like I always do on my days off. At least if I work half a day, I'd be more compelled to do something enjoyable after work, like hanging out with a friend or going to the park. I'm just strange that way. I think I might request Thai food, just for fun. I have no idea if anyone else in the office likes it, but there's only one way to find out! (I get slightly evil around my birthday...)

Coming up on the big 2-3 is a little frightening for me. Not because I'm afraid of getting old, but because one of my goals is to start having children around the age of 25. Turning 23 means there's only 2 years left (if I'm lucky) of the freedom I enjoy so much. Of course, I do look forward to being a mom, but I'm so young! At least, in my mind I am. It's going to be weird....if people think I'm "old" and cautious now, just wait til I have a youngin'! Shoot...I might not have any friends left by that time. How very uplifting....

Save me a headache

2006-04-18T14:42:00.000-05:00

A few minutes ago, a patient asked me to throw away his receipt instead of giving it to him.

"I really don't need it anyway, I always just put it straight in the trash. If you could just throw it away for me, it would save me the headache of having to do it myself."

How much of a headache is really caused by tossing a piece of paper in a garbage can? Perhaps this is the source of the many headaches I get in any given week; I mean, I throw away and shred a LOT of paper every day. All this time, I never knew that I could save money on silly things like Advil and Tylenol if only I could get someone to throw things away for me.

I feel so stupid for throwing things away myself all these years. Oh, the many headaches I could have prevented!

Thus, I have done my good deed for the day. By throwing away this man's receipt for him, I have spared him the pain and suffering of a headache.

However, I'm a bit worried that I will be the one who gets the headache. I should have passed that tiny slip of paper on to some other unsuspecting person, but alas, I did not think that far ahead.

The vicious cycle known as "Exhaustion"

2006-04-17T10:37:00.000-05:00

As expected, the weekend was a three-day whirlwind of driving, eating, physical activity, family time, picture-taking, and getting up early. Amazingly, we really didn't spend all that much money, and we had a great time. I got some fabulous pictures, including the one in the previous post, which is one of my Favorite Photos of the Day from our little trip to the beautiful Japanese Gardens in Fort Worth. That place is paradise for the budding photographer. Everywhere you look there's a photo op just waiting for you. Alas, I didn't get as many pictures as I would have liked. As I was one of three people toting cameras, everyone got pretty tired of posing for pictures, and I decided to add to the annoyance factor as little as possible to save face. Sometimes I wish I could be invisible, I bet I could really get some great photos that way.

Japanese gardens

2006-04-16T09:18:00.000-05:00

Happy Easter

Case of the Mondays

2006-04-03T14:17:00.000-05:00

*sings* Oh crappy day! Oh crappy daaayyyyy.....

Actually, it hasn't really been *that* bad, except I got yelled at by a patient for no reason and I had to confront them. Verbal confrontation isn't my strong point. My voice gets all weak and shaky, I have to try really hard not to cry, and my hands shake like mad. I held it together fairly well though, and she even called later to apologize. I guess I'm getting better at the whole confrontation thing, which is definitely a good thing.

Also, I came very close to falling and busting my ass on the cement while leaving my apartment. Then I almost fell again while at work. These chunky-soled shoes are certainly not helping with my clumsiness, and they're not doing my ankle any favors either.

At least I had a good weekend. Scratch that. An *awesome* weekend. Maybe that's why today seems so crappy. At least tonight will be better, as it appears that my sweetie is planning a romantic evening for us. All I have to do is find a way to make the next 4 hours pass quickly, and I think I'll make it.

I thought I'd seen it all

2006-03-30T10:43:00.000-06:00

This morning I had a very discomforting experience checking out a patient I hadn't met before because I'm usually not here as early as he is. He was one of the scarier ones I've seen in the three and a half years that I've worked here so far. First of all, he was wearing tightly fitted, ratty, acid-washed jeans. They were so eighties I wanted to puke. These horrendous jeans were paired with a button-up, short sleeved shirt, TUCKED IN, with no belt. One or two buttons at the top were unbuttoned. His face was orange. Not tan, not red. BRIGHT ORANGE, like the oompa-loompas of yesteryear. Making this heinous skin color stand out even more, his hair was bleach-blonde white. I wanted to run away. Then he spoke, loudly and obnoxiously. He yelled (YELLED!) "I wish the doctor had said GOODBYE!!!!!!" as my boss was escorting his next patient into his office. I gave an embarrassed, scared smile, not knowing what else to say or do. I thought maybe he was joking. He was making me very nervous. Then he starts going on, still loudly, about how he hates not hearing "goodbye" because it makes it hard to get closure from a session. I just stood there, dumbfounded. Finally, he left.

Wtf??!

Blue skies and daffodils

2006-03-24T16:21:00.000-06:00

Spring is finally here. It's so nice to see colors again.

Is starting over an option?

2006-03-22T17:36:00.000-06:00

It's been a week of firsts.

Sunday was this area's First Flood of 2006. Monday was my First Day of Physical Therapy. Yesterday was the First Big Fight of 2006 - mom and sis versus me. First thing this morning, I had the privilege of adding First Speeding Ticket to this handsome list. Notice how there's nothing positive here? This is basically my life the past several weeks, just a big, happy cycle of wonderful things happening. Did I mention the exciting addition of the First Time to Owe the IRS $900? That one is particularly fun.

Next week I'll get to enjoy my First Defensive Driving Class. I'm just jumping with joy.

There is, however, a light at the end of the Tunnel of Firsts. Yesterday, my husband and I decided to take a 3-day weekend for our First Vacation of 2006 with his family in May, which will be sandwiched midway between my 23rd birthday and our 2 year wedding anniversary. May is my favorite month because it seems to be that magical time when only good things happen. This year, though, I don't think it'll swoop in soon enough time to rescue me from the clutches of March and April, which seem to have their jaws wrapped around my throat like a rabid dog, shaking me viciously from side to side until my neck breaks and my body turns limp like a rag doll.

Believe it or not, this is the optimistic perpective. If you want to hear pessimism, you should hear my husband recount our recent series of unfortunate events.

All I see are dollar signs

2006-03-20T11:52:00.000-06:00

My insurance company is going to hate me.

On Friday I went to get my hand and wrist re-evaluated after receiving no treatment for about the last eight months. You see, my insurance company was trying to low-ball me on my settlement, so I figured it would be a good idea to have my doctor look at it again. It turns out I still have some problems going on, so he recommended that I hold off on settling and undergo "aggressive" physical therapy about twice weekly to aid in my recovery. Translation as I see it: The insurance company is going to need to raise their bid by a lot.

Today was my first day of therapy. The woman who worked with me was awesome, and I learned of several weaknesses in my hand, wrist, and arm that I hadn't really been aware of. Every time she informed me that a certain spot wasn't doing so well, I felt like a failure, even though I knew it wasn't my fault. At the same time, though, dollar signs were swimming around in my head. I can't really afford the $50 per week that this will cost me, but the idea that I'll be getting it all back and then some is quite comforting.

Not that it's all about the money. I definitely want to fully heal, and I really look forward to being pain-free. The money sure does help though. Boy, does it help.

ho-hum

2006-03-15T11:44:00.000-06:00

Something interesting happened yesterday.

No, wait.....

NOTHING interesting happened yesterday. What a waste of a day. By the time I left work, my brain felt disconnected and my eyes were glassy. Seriously, glassy. I forced myself to turn my stereo on to put my brain into drive. The drive home seemed to take forever, and when I finally arrived at my apartment, I immediately changed into workout clothes and turned on my workout dvd to keep myself from just plopping onto the couch. Exercising worked wonders for waking up my brain, I think it was the first time all day that my blood had circulated.

In other news, Miss Deaf Texas was hit by a train while she walked about a foot from the tracks, texting her parents and friends on her cell phone. The train conductor blew the horn but of course she didn't hear it. He applied the emergency brake but the train just couldn't stop in time. Ok, I feel bad that she died, it really is a tragedy and all, but seriously? If you've been deaf your whole life, by age 18 you should know to pay attention and be aware of what's around you. And anyone by that age should know to be particularly careful around railroad tracks! My god.... Thus continues the stereotype of pageant winners, no matter how pretty or special, needing to wear helmets to walk in those high heels.

who would have thought

2006-03-14T15:39:00.000-06:00

Oh, the things you find on Myspace, the things you learn! It's just incredible.

D is for Devil

2006-03-14T11:30:00.000-06:00

Oh my god....I effing HATE my husband's boss! For security and all that, I will be calling him D - which you can feel free to associate with any derogatory D-word you can come up with.

This guy is a sorry excuse for a human being and apparently he thinks he is better than everyone else, and anyone who has ever met him will know that he is a bastard. For example, last year he took a week off for every holiday, which prevented his employees from taking any time off themselves. This year, he has already done the same for every single holiday for the rest of the year - and it's only March. Who does that? I mean, knowingly preventing everyone else at your store from taking time off during any single holiday to spend with their family, well that is just evil.

Today, he reminded me once again of why I hate him.

This morning, my husband called wanting to know if I could bring his medication to him, as he had forgotten to take it before he left for work. I didn't have time to, but I suggested taking a long lunch to come home for it - I even made him a sandwich so all he'd have to do is grab it and go. So he asks D if it would be ok and tells him the reason and everything. So D asks what medication it's for. My husband tells him it's for his antidepressant that he is supposed to take daily. D replies, "No. I don't believe in that sort of thing." AS IF IT'S UP TO HIM TO DECIDE FOR OTHER PEOPLE WHETHER THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO TAKE PRESCRIBED MEDICATION!!!!!!!! First of all, it's none of his business. (My husband should have lied and said it was for like heart medication or something lol) Second of all, as if it would kill him to let my husband take an extra 20 minutes for lunch. Good god. Third of all, his reasoning for not letting him go should not be just because in his personal opinion, psychotropics are pointless. That is NOT for him to decide for other people. I fucking hate that man. The funny thing is, D needs psychotropics himself - he has so much anxiety and panic that he can't even drive. His wife has to drive him everywhere. He's a fucking retard, maybe if he took medication himself, he might not a) be so anxious, b) have panic attacks, or c) be such a DICK to everyone.

Anyone know a good hitman?

Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays!

2006-03-13T12:27:00.000-06:00

I swear the days get slower and longer by the week.

I was in a great mood at home this morning while I was getting ready for work. I'd had a pretty good weekend and I was basking in the afterglow of having a good hair-, makeup-, and overall appearance-day yesterday, which is highly unsual for me. Not only that, but my husband was finally in a great mood after being in a bit of a slump for quite awhile - it's nice to have him back to his usual self. Plus, I found an amazing new hairspray that I am in love with, except that the smell of it is making me a little dizzy. See, I hate hairspray and until yesterday, I had never found one that actually left my hair soft and touchable, yet also kept it in place AND was affordable. In fact, I was pretty sure such a thing did not exist, seeing as all the hairsprays I've ever tried have left my hair feeling like steel wool.. Then, yesterday, I decided to give TresEmme a try, since I'd read good things about it in Good Housekeeping (it has the seal of approval!). And for once, I am delighted to be proven wrong in my attitude toward hairspray. Please forgive me for sounding like a commercial.

So I got to work feeling all fine and dandy, and I was even relatively on time. But then, I hadn't even been here for 5 minutes when the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, and the name showing screamed, "DON'T ANSWER!!!" because it was one of the patients I dislike the most. But in my good-mood stupor, I answered anyway. I should have listened to the screaming. The rude voice on the other end demanded, harrassed, and otherwise bitched its way through the conversation. I very politely responded the best I could, though I wanted to yell and hang up on them. Instead, they hung up on me. Yes, sir, now that you've been a total asshole, I'd be more than happy to bend over backwards to please you. Ha, right. He'll be lucky if I even answer or return his calls today. I told my boss about it, and he's just like "well eff him." That made me feel a bit better, but I would have much preferred to say that to him over the phone. Ah well, at least karma's a bitch, so I don't have to be.

Blogspot...how refreshing

2006-03-10T19:07:00.000-06:00

LiveJournal and Xanga have let me down. So now I'm here sharing the random details of my life here on Blogspot with high hopes for a brighter blogging future.

I suppose introductions are in order if I expect to dupe anyone (but not you, Oprah) into adding me to their friends list or whatever. First of all, gotta tackle the asl. 22, female - and married - , Dallas, TX. No, I'm not a swinger or a swapper or anything else disturbing like that, and no I don't care for being hit on by creepy internet dweebs, no matter how suave they think they are. I'm glad we could clear that up.

So what good will come of you reading my blog? Good question. I'll let you know when I figure that out. I'll tell you what you can probably expect, though. Lots of pictures, rambling, narratives, and random angry rants, with the occasional quiz thrown in for good measure.

Now it's time for the weekend to begin. TGIF.

quick-witted and witty

Letters to Oliver - 9 Months

Letters to Jude - 3 Years!

Letters to Oliver - 8 Months

Letters to Oliver - Month 7

Letters to Oliver - Month 6

October 2011 10 on 10

Letters to Oliver - 5 Months

Ten on Ten....Sort Of

Common Decency...Not So Common

Where Do I Change the Baby?

Letters to Jude - Month 32

Letters to Oliver - 4 Months

Letters to Oliver - 3 Months

Breastfeeding...I wish I'd known

Letters to Oliver - Month 2 and Welcome

Oliver's Birth Story

No epidural?! *blink blink*

Greetings from Outside the Norm

Letters to Jude - Month 24

This day and age

Updates and such

Food for thought.

Surprise!

Letters to Jude - Month 14

Something's missing

Letters to Jude - Month 12

Letters to Jude - Month 11

Letters to Jude - Month 10

In the Garden

The Countdown Has Begun

Thinking Too Much

Letters to Jude: Month 9

Letters to Jude - Month 8

Letters to Jude - Month 7

Letters to Jude - Month 6

Letters to Jude - Month 5

When Dad dresses the baby

Really?

Letters to Jude - Month 4

Bloodshed

Letters to Jude - Month 3

Letters to Jude - Month Two

Letters to Jude - Month One

Another pet peeve

Almost there - 35 weeks

Foggy

45 Days

45 Days

Diatribe

Still A Boy

30 Weeks!

Guess what?

"Nesting": Dumbest word ever created

10 is Not Enough

Development

July Got Away From Me

Vacation is a Cure-All

Mobile Home

birthday blues

Baffling people left and right

Administrative Professionals Day

Save me a headache

The vicious cycle known as "Exhaustion"

Japanese gardens

Case of the Mondays

I thought I'd seen it all

Blue skies and daffodils

Is starting over an option?

All I see are dollar signs

ho-hum

who would have thought

D is for Devil

Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays!

Blogspot...how refreshing

No epidural?! blink blink