This past Friday night, I felt my first earthquake! It was simultaneously super scary and kind of amazing. I was sitting on the couch crocheting, when the room started moving. It felt like the house was on a wave machine. The movement was smooth, rolling, and nauseating. It lasted at least 10 seconds - long enough for me to feel it and be totally freaked out.
My initial reaction was that JD was messing around with me. This was completely ridiculous and irrational considering he was upstairs putting Penelope to bed. When I realized he couldn't move our furniture from upstairs, I concluded someone was behind my couch, moving it. I'm serious, that was totally a reasonable explanation for me. I jumped up, fully expecting to see somebody hiding under the couch. Maybe I was in shock??? Then I noticed the chandelier swinging and the blinds swaying and deduced, oh my goodness, that was an earthquake!!!
I ran upstairs and said to JD, "did you feel that?!?!"
"Feel what?' he asked.
"We just had an earthquake! Come look, everything is moving!"
"You know what? I totally felt nauseated a few moments ago, like the room was rolling or something."
We both felt it. I texted friends and they felt it too. Soon, it was all over the news. There was a 5.1 quake about 30 miles from where we live. What we felt, the rolling waves, is typical for the distance we are to the fault lines where the quake occurred. For the next 24 hours, there were dozens of aftershocks, but we never felt them.
There have been earthquakes almost every month since we've lived in Southern California, but I've never felt one until Friday night. I've got to say, I'm excited to have experienced one, but I never want to feel another one again. Feeling the earth shift and move is unsettling (pun intended) and I don't really want to feel it again!
Showing posts with label Things That Are Different. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Things That Are Different. Show all posts
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Itty Bitty Dining Room Makeover
Everything we own furniture and decor-wise is 5 years old. I know some pieces are meant to last, but I haven't bought anything new for our house since JD and I got married. I'm thankful for what we have, but man, I'm so over most of it. I'm ready for a change.
Our dining room is right off of the living room on the main floor of our house. We use it 3 times a day so it is one of the most used rooms in our home. Before my tiny little makeover, it was also one of the most drab rooms in our home.
Before:
The absolute worst thing about the dining room is the brass chandelier. It is mammoth, hung way too high, and is about the ugliest thing circa 1980 I've ever laid eyes on. It needs help.
Since we're in a rental, painting and replacing fixtures aren't possible, so I had to make changes with the centerpiece, table linens, and chandelier.
After:
It's not my dream dining room, but I think it's a big improvement from the brown-brass-blahness from before. Placemats from World Market. Chandelier shades from Hobby Lobby. Basket from Goodwill, spray-painted black. Green foliage balls from Hobby Lobby.
Everything was really cheap (total cost under $50) and works well with the art/curtains/rug we already have. I'm liking it better already! I definitely won't wait 5 years before I buy something new for my house again.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
California
This blog is coming to you live from the greater Los Angeles area.
Our big move has come and gone. We live in California now. This is our house.
Okay not really, but this is our view a few miles away.
So far, I don't really know how I feel about living in California. I love the landscape, climate, shopping, and food. But it's lonely. We don't know anyone. My mom has been here for the past week helping us unpack and get settled. She left today so it hasn't really sunk in yet that we are out here all alone. That makes me sad. Missing everyone so much my heart hurts when I think about them makes me sad. Not knowing how to get to the bank makes me sad. I guess California makes me sad.
The beach makes me happy though. We've been twice this week.
I grew up in Florida and weekly beach trips were a normal thing for us. We moved to Tennessee when I was 12 and after 17 years in a landlocked state, I never imagined myself to live so close to the beach again. It is awesome to be minutes away from some of the most beautiful and famous beaches in the country. California has redeemed itself from being so far away from Tennessee with its glorious beaches.
I know I'm going to like it here once I get to know the area and it finally feels like home. I just have to get over the loneliness first. Be good to us, California, pretty please.
Our big move has come and gone. We live in California now. This is our house.
Okay not really, but this is our view a few miles away.
So far, I don't really know how I feel about living in California. I love the landscape, climate, shopping, and food. But it's lonely. We don't know anyone. My mom has been here for the past week helping us unpack and get settled. She left today so it hasn't really sunk in yet that we are out here all alone. That makes me sad. Missing everyone so much my heart hurts when I think about them makes me sad. Not knowing how to get to the bank makes me sad. I guess California makes me sad.
The beach makes me happy though. We've been twice this week.
I grew up in Florida and weekly beach trips were a normal thing for us. We moved to Tennessee when I was 12 and after 17 years in a landlocked state, I never imagined myself to live so close to the beach again. It is awesome to be minutes away from some of the most beautiful and famous beaches in the country. California has redeemed itself from being so far away from Tennessee with its glorious beaches.
I know I'm going to like it here once I get to know the area and it finally feels like home. I just have to get over the loneliness first. Be good to us, California, pretty please.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
She Grew Up
Sometime during the last 5 weeks, my big baby grew up. She says her alphabet, she counts to 10, she uses proper pronouns. Next month, she will be 2. Beatrice grew up. See for yourself.
She calls me Mom. Not Mommy or Mama. Mom. Like a teenager. It's so cute, I really don't mind. Much.
She doesn't need me to put on her shoes or button her jeans. She picks out her own hair bows and asks me to give her ponytails. She loves going to restaurants. She butters her own bread. She's grown up now.
She is starting to call things their proper names instead of the cute baby words she has been using for the past year. Cats are no longer meow-meows and butterflies are no longer buzziebyes. She is a big girl.
She is sassy and smart. She tells jokes and laughs at ours.
She narrates car rides with the sights that we see. She loves Chuck E. Cheese's. She is a big kid now.
Where was I when this happened???
She calls me Mom. Not Mommy or Mama. Mom. Like a teenager. It's so cute, I really don't mind. Much.
She doesn't need me to put on her shoes or button her jeans. She picks out her own hair bows and asks me to give her ponytails. She loves going to restaurants. She butters her own bread. She's grown up now.
She is starting to call things their proper names instead of the cute baby words she has been using for the past year. Cats are no longer meow-meows and butterflies are no longer buzziebyes. She is a big girl.
She is sassy and smart. She tells jokes and laughs at ours.
She narrates car rides with the sights that we see. She loves Chuck E. Cheese's. She is a big kid now.
Where was I when this happened???
Monday, September 5, 2011
Two Under Two
Hi everyone. Remember me? I used to have a blog that I updated regularly. I also used to shower in the mornings and sleep longer than 2 hours at a time. I used to be a semi put together mom. Now I am a hot mess. I never feel rested and I lack big time in the hygiene department. I am a mom of a newborn. And a toddler. At once. I have 2 kids under 2. And it is HARD.
Sigh.
Remember when I wrote this? Well, I was on to something. When I wrote that, I didn't have a clue how hard it would be to manage 2 little ones at the same time. I still don't know how I'm going to manage it now that it is my reality. I'm tired. I'm emotional. I'm a little discouraged. I feel like I won't ever get the hang of it. And as each day passes with me still not getting the hang of it, I feel like the biggest loser ever.
Sigh.
It doesn't help that everyone I talk to with more than 1 child says the same thing to me. Everyone tells me that it doesn't get easier. Seriously? Can't 1 person tell me that it's a piece of cake after the baby turns 2 weeks old??? Pretty please? I keep hearing stories of endless exhaustion, a lifetime of showers after 3pm, and running late to every appointment for the next 18 years. That sounds really awful to this former semi put together mom. I need a glimmer of hope that I will get the hang of 2 kids at once before the baby is weaned. Showers before 10am are critical to my sanity. And the general population's air quality. For reals.
Right now, I am relying on the help that I get from JD. He is on paternity leave for the next 4 weeks, thank the Lord. I am also coming to terms that I can't do it all right now. I am doing as much as I can and tending to both girls' needs as best as I can, but I'm not beating myself up when I am overwhelmed. And I pray. A lot. And cry. A little. Okay a lot. But I'm blaming the hormones on that.
Anyone want to tell me it's gets easier sooner than later? For these guys' sake?
Sigh.
Remember when I wrote this? Well, I was on to something. When I wrote that, I didn't have a clue how hard it would be to manage 2 little ones at the same time. I still don't know how I'm going to manage it now that it is my reality. I'm tired. I'm emotional. I'm a little discouraged. I feel like I won't ever get the hang of it. And as each day passes with me still not getting the hang of it, I feel like the biggest loser ever.
Sigh.
It doesn't help that everyone I talk to with more than 1 child says the same thing to me. Everyone tells me that it doesn't get easier. Seriously? Can't 1 person tell me that it's a piece of cake after the baby turns 2 weeks old??? Pretty please? I keep hearing stories of endless exhaustion, a lifetime of showers after 3pm, and running late to every appointment for the next 18 years. That sounds really awful to this former semi put together mom. I need a glimmer of hope that I will get the hang of 2 kids at once before the baby is weaned. Showers before 10am are critical to my sanity. And the general population's air quality. For reals.
Right now, I am relying on the help that I get from JD. He is on paternity leave for the next 4 weeks, thank the Lord. I am also coming to terms that I can't do it all right now. I am doing as much as I can and tending to both girls' needs as best as I can, but I'm not beating myself up when I am overwhelmed. And I pray. A lot. And cry. A little. Okay a lot. But I'm blaming the hormones on that.
Anyone want to tell me it's gets easier sooner than later? For these guys' sake?
Monday, April 25, 2011
Big News
When JD and I had been dating for about a month or so, he broke up with me. He said that he had no intentions of staying in our town long term and if I was a hometown kind of girl, it would never work out. I told him that I grew up in Florida and while my family lived here, this was not my hometown. I had shallow roots here and travel had always been something that I wanted for my future.
When we got married, JD got a reservist position for the government. The possibly of relocating was slim since he was not a full time agent. For 3 years, we have been praying that God would open a door for a new job and that God would plant us some place where He had a purpose for us.
JD got a job. And in 10 more weeks, we will be Los Angelenos. We are moving to California.
.....................................................................................................................................................................
The news came as a shock. We had put our place on the market and gotten pregnant back in November with plans to settle down here. We thought we had outgrown our 2 bedroom, 1500 sq ft townhouse so we were looking for a 3 bedroom with 2000 sq ft. We were preparing to save for private school. For months, our plan was here in this community. We were planting roots.
When I walked in from grocery shopping one day in February, JD met me at the door with a huge grin and "good news." He had gotten a civilian position with the government and we would be notified of our assignment location within a month. I was floored. I tried to act supportive and congratulatory to my husband, but I was really sad. I didn't want to move pregnant and I didn't want to move with a newborn. Honestly, I just didn't want to move.
I had a heart to heart with God about it and asked Him to help me to be content in all situations (Phil. 4:11-13). After a few days, I got used to the idea of starting a life in a new place with my husband and our 2 girls. I imagined us in a small European village. I saw us in metropolitan DC. I got excited about it. But before I could really imagine us somewhere else, we still had to wait to be notified where our somewhere else would be.
We waited. And waited. And waited. March came and went with no word. We had already told our families that we would be moving soon so the anticipation of whether or not we would still be in the States was starting to take a toll on us. Half of April came and went without word. The day before our vacation, JD finally got the email notifying us of our assignment to Los Angeles. We were excited and terrified. California is awesome, but it is also one of the most expensive States to live in. Suddenly our 2 bedroom, 1500 sq ft townhouse was looking awfully spacious compared to the 2 bedroom, 800 sq ft apartments we found online in our price range. Culture shock does not begin to describe it.
I am only looking on the bright side as I don't want to get trapped in a downward spiral of emotions (mostly sadness about leaving my family and church). I would love your prayers that our place will sell FAST and that we find a new place in a safe area that meets our family's needs. And that we can be content there, no matter how different or lonely it may be at first. Despite my fears, I am really excited. My babies are going to be California girls. I'm gonna be bffs with Lindsay Lohan - not. I'm gonna be bffs with the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Kyle, call me.
We're moving, that's all I know right now. We still have to sell our townhouse. We have to find a new place to rent on the West Coast. I have to find a new OB, pediatrician, dentist, insurance company, and every other service provider you can think of. And we have 10 weeks to do it. We are thrilled, but a little apprehensive about what our lives will look like without family a few miles down the road and every other familiar thing that makes places feel like home. But this is what I signed up for when I married my wandering husband: a life of travel and new places. I'm embracing it. I think.
When we got married, JD got a reservist position for the government. The possibly of relocating was slim since he was not a full time agent. For 3 years, we have been praying that God would open a door for a new job and that God would plant us some place where He had a purpose for us.
JD got a job. And in 10 more weeks, we will be Los Angelenos. We are moving to California.
.....................................................................................................................................................................
The news came as a shock. We had put our place on the market and gotten pregnant back in November with plans to settle down here. We thought we had outgrown our 2 bedroom, 1500 sq ft townhouse so we were looking for a 3 bedroom with 2000 sq ft. We were preparing to save for private school. For months, our plan was here in this community. We were planting roots.
When I walked in from grocery shopping one day in February, JD met me at the door with a huge grin and "good news." He had gotten a civilian position with the government and we would be notified of our assignment location within a month. I was floored. I tried to act supportive and congratulatory to my husband, but I was really sad. I didn't want to move pregnant and I didn't want to move with a newborn. Honestly, I just didn't want to move.
I had a heart to heart with God about it and asked Him to help me to be content in all situations (Phil. 4:11-13). After a few days, I got used to the idea of starting a life in a new place with my husband and our 2 girls. I imagined us in a small European village. I saw us in metropolitan DC. I got excited about it. But before I could really imagine us somewhere else, we still had to wait to be notified where our somewhere else would be.
We waited. And waited. And waited. March came and went with no word. We had already told our families that we would be moving soon so the anticipation of whether or not we would still be in the States was starting to take a toll on us. Half of April came and went without word. The day before our vacation, JD finally got the email notifying us of our assignment to Los Angeles. We were excited and terrified. California is awesome, but it is also one of the most expensive States to live in. Suddenly our 2 bedroom, 1500 sq ft townhouse was looking awfully spacious compared to the 2 bedroom, 800 sq ft apartments we found online in our price range. Culture shock does not begin to describe it.
I am only looking on the bright side as I don't want to get trapped in a downward spiral of emotions (mostly sadness about leaving my family and church). I would love your prayers that our place will sell FAST and that we find a new place in a safe area that meets our family's needs. And that we can be content there, no matter how different or lonely it may be at first. Despite my fears, I am really excited. My babies are going to be California girls. I'm gonna be bffs with Lindsay Lohan - not. I'm gonna be bffs with the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Kyle, call me.
We're moving, that's all I know right now. We still have to sell our townhouse. We have to find a new place to rent on the West Coast. I have to find a new OB, pediatrician, dentist, insurance company, and every other service provider you can think of. And we have 10 weeks to do it. We are thrilled, but a little apprehensive about what our lives will look like without family a few miles down the road and every other familiar thing that makes places feel like home. But this is what I signed up for when I married my wandering husband: a life of travel and new places. I'm embracing it. I think.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
The Club
When I had Beatrice, I fully expected to be welcomed into the not-so-secret-but-pretty-exclusive parenthood club. The one that welcomes new members with open arms and loads of support. We were all in this thing called child rearing together, after all. We would need each other. While I did find myself in this so-called "club" upon birthing my first child, I found it to be anything but supportive. There is more judgment than support, more criticism than approval, and more division than encouragement. This community of parents has the potential to really help, but instead most often tears others down leaving them feeling completely alone.
I found out right away that other parents have a lot of opinions on how you feed your child. Whether or not you breast feed or formula feed, someone else has something to say about it. To your face. I did breast feed and while I was met mostly with support and accolades from others, I found it interesting (and kind of weird) that other folks felt so strongly about those that do not breast feed. It was as though other parents knew what was best for another family and clearly, it was breast feeding. But the major atrocity was if you didn't breast feed, your membership in the club was earmarked for nonconformance. You were flagged for being different and that my friends, is frowned upon. Just so you know, us breast feeders weren't celebrated by everyone. I got the occasional "when are you going to start feeding that baby real milk (aka formula) because she is obviously starving?" Arrrgh.
As your child gets older, you can fully expect to be judged on your discipline methods. If you spank, you are automatically out of the club. Your membership is revoked and you are blacklisted forever. If you use any method of discipline deemed acceptable by your grandmother's generation, you might as well hand over your ID card because you will be banned for lack of open mindedness. It suits everyone best if you just don't speak about how you plan to or currently are handling the discipline in your household. You will be judged to high Heaven no matter what you say. Trust me on this.
The list of examples of how parents tear each other apart instead of build each other up is endless. The debates rage on about vaccines and medicine and education, but instead of simply debating these subjects, we are attacking other people for their differences. It's as if we are threatened beyond coping abilities at the differences we see in other people's parenting decisions. I say as long as no one is abusing a child, live and let live people.
I have been labeled an alternative parent. This just means that I don't follow suit with the newest child psychologists' theories on how to feed/sleep train/discipline/etc. I tend to take my grandmother's advice over my neighbor's. We take parenting classes at church instead of reading the latest secular child rearing book. I'm totally okay with being different. I am learning to be okay with being criticized from parents that do things differently. I'm not okay with being called a bad parent because I choose to parent differently than the masses. But that's what happens when you don't follow suit.
It has been such a huge disappointment to learn that my fellow new mommies judge me for taking away Beatrice's pacifier at 11 months. Or whatever thing we moms judge each other for. It's disheartening to know that if I really do need support during a temper tantrum or a nap strike, I cannot call on any ol' mommy to hear my woes. The chances of me getting berated for what I think is an appropriate course of action is greater than sympathy and well wishes from someone that doesn't do things exactly like me.
This is sad. I'm not naive enough to believe that everyone will agree, but I don't think it's too far fetched to respect other parents' decisions to make different choices. This community of parents has so much potential to support others and be a place to learn other approaches to parenting, but if we are constantly judging and tearing each other down for our differences, that will never happen. We will be stuck in a club that really only accepts those that do things exactly like everyone else.
I found out right away that other parents have a lot of opinions on how you feed your child. Whether or not you breast feed or formula feed, someone else has something to say about it. To your face. I did breast feed and while I was met mostly with support and accolades from others, I found it interesting (and kind of weird) that other folks felt so strongly about those that do not breast feed. It was as though other parents knew what was best for another family and clearly, it was breast feeding. But the major atrocity was if you didn't breast feed, your membership in the club was earmarked for nonconformance. You were flagged for being different and that my friends, is frowned upon. Just so you know, us breast feeders weren't celebrated by everyone. I got the occasional "when are you going to start feeding that baby real milk (aka formula) because she is obviously starving?" Arrrgh.
As your child gets older, you can fully expect to be judged on your discipline methods. If you spank, you are automatically out of the club. Your membership is revoked and you are blacklisted forever. If you use any method of discipline deemed acceptable by your grandmother's generation, you might as well hand over your ID card because you will be banned for lack of open mindedness. It suits everyone best if you just don't speak about how you plan to or currently are handling the discipline in your household. You will be judged to high Heaven no matter what you say. Trust me on this.
The list of examples of how parents tear each other apart instead of build each other up is endless. The debates rage on about vaccines and medicine and education, but instead of simply debating these subjects, we are attacking other people for their differences. It's as if we are threatened beyond coping abilities at the differences we see in other people's parenting decisions. I say as long as no one is abusing a child, live and let live people.
I have been labeled an alternative parent. This just means that I don't follow suit with the newest child psychologists' theories on how to feed/sleep train/discipline/etc. I tend to take my grandmother's advice over my neighbor's. We take parenting classes at church instead of reading the latest secular child rearing book. I'm totally okay with being different. I am learning to be okay with being criticized from parents that do things differently. I'm not okay with being called a bad parent because I choose to parent differently than the masses. But that's what happens when you don't follow suit.
It has been such a huge disappointment to learn that my fellow new mommies judge me for taking away Beatrice's pacifier at 11 months. Or whatever thing we moms judge each other for. It's disheartening to know that if I really do need support during a temper tantrum or a nap strike, I cannot call on any ol' mommy to hear my woes. The chances of me getting berated for what I think is an appropriate course of action is greater than sympathy and well wishes from someone that doesn't do things exactly like me.
This is sad. I'm not naive enough to believe that everyone will agree, but I don't think it's too far fetched to respect other parents' decisions to make different choices. This community of parents has so much potential to support others and be a place to learn other approaches to parenting, but if we are constantly judging and tearing each other down for our differences, that will never happen. We will be stuck in a club that really only accepts those that do things exactly like everyone else.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The Post Where You All Hate Me
I, like most women I know, was a little worried about weight loss after having Beatrice. I gained a ton while pregnant and wasn't sure how my body would handle losing it all. Thankfully, it only took about 4 months to lose it all. Not that I would describe myself as vain, but I never felt good about myself when I carried extra weight. I was happy when I lost it relatively quickly and felt pretty sure that maintaining my pre-baby body would be easy enough.
I wasn't prepared however, for the additional weight loss once Beatrice became a toddler. Not that I'm complaining, but sheesh. I am down to wedding day weight which is kind of ridiculous. Wedding day weight borders on scary skinny and I don't know anyone who looks good at scary skinny. I'm not sure when it happened, but sometime around her first birthday, people started asking me if I had lost weight. I hadn't really noticed, but sure enough when I stepped on the scale I had dropped another 5 lbs.
I hadn't really done anything differently. Lord knows I haven't worked out in ages. I was eating the same and snacking the same. It didn't really make sense. So I started to pay attention to my daily habits. Was I burning more calories by watching House Hunters International instead of my beloved Real Housewives? Wouldn't that be so awesome? Something had to be contributing to my sudden weight loss.
And then it hit me. I may be eating the same foods, but I was barely eating an entire adult sized portion of any meal. Beatrice was starving me by eating all of my bites.
Mealtime at our house is hilarious and loud. Once we mention food or get plates and utensils ready, Beatrice started chirping her nonstop chorus of "bite, bite, bite, bite, buy-tah" until we give her bites. She endlessly asks for our bites regardless of the time or size of her last meal. She starts begging for buy-tahs from both of us, but always ends up in my lap grabbing at my plate. I am lucky to eat a few buy-tahs of my own before she has demanded the majority of my meal. I have tried to add more to my plate but that just means more for Beatrice. I have tried to hide and eat my own full meal in the pantry or knelt down in front of the sink, but she always finds me. If there is a buy-tah to be had, she will find it.
This happened to my mom when we were kids. I remember her barely eating anything. When I got older and asked her about it, she said that we ate all of her food. We wanted her chips, we wanted her hot dogs, we wanted her drinks. But we never, ever wanted her cheese sandwiches. Bread, cheese, and lots of Miracle Whip. Ick. Eventually, she stopped making plates for herself. She learned to eat our scraps instead. It was easier than fighting off little hands begging for more bites and a sure fire way to end up with something in her stomach every day. We starved our mom, and she just went along with it. Sorry, Mom. And now Beatrice is starving me. And since I know what is happening, it alarms me a little. Will it ever end? Will I be forced to eat at nap time and after she is in bed forever? Maybe this is why I don't bother cooking anymore.
I find it a little hilarious that every kid thinks their mom is holding out the good food for themselves. It's as if the exact same food tastes a little better if it comes off of Mom's plate. I keep assuring Beatrice that I will not withhold anything delicious from her, but she doesn't believe me. She wants to have buy-tahs to see for herself. All of them.
I wasn't prepared however, for the additional weight loss once Beatrice became a toddler. Not that I'm complaining, but sheesh. I am down to wedding day weight which is kind of ridiculous. Wedding day weight borders on scary skinny and I don't know anyone who looks good at scary skinny. I'm not sure when it happened, but sometime around her first birthday, people started asking me if I had lost weight. I hadn't really noticed, but sure enough when I stepped on the scale I had dropped another 5 lbs.
I hadn't really done anything differently. Lord knows I haven't worked out in ages. I was eating the same and snacking the same. It didn't really make sense. So I started to pay attention to my daily habits. Was I burning more calories by watching House Hunters International instead of my beloved Real Housewives? Wouldn't that be so awesome? Something had to be contributing to my sudden weight loss.
And then it hit me. I may be eating the same foods, but I was barely eating an entire adult sized portion of any meal. Beatrice was starving me by eating all of my bites.
Mealtime at our house is hilarious and loud. Once we mention food or get plates and utensils ready, Beatrice started chirping her nonstop chorus of "bite, bite, bite, bite, buy-tah" until we give her bites. She endlessly asks for our bites regardless of the time or size of her last meal. She starts begging for buy-tahs from both of us, but always ends up in my lap grabbing at my plate. I am lucky to eat a few buy-tahs of my own before she has demanded the majority of my meal. I have tried to add more to my plate but that just means more for Beatrice. I have tried to hide and eat my own full meal in the pantry or knelt down in front of the sink, but she always finds me. If there is a buy-tah to be had, she will find it.
This happened to my mom when we were kids. I remember her barely eating anything. When I got older and asked her about it, she said that we ate all of her food. We wanted her chips, we wanted her hot dogs, we wanted her drinks. But we never, ever wanted her cheese sandwiches. Bread, cheese, and lots of Miracle Whip. Ick. Eventually, she stopped making plates for herself. She learned to eat our scraps instead. It was easier than fighting off little hands begging for more bites and a sure fire way to end up with something in her stomach every day. We starved our mom, and she just went along with it. Sorry, Mom. And now Beatrice is starving me. And since I know what is happening, it alarms me a little. Will it ever end? Will I be forced to eat at nap time and after she is in bed forever? Maybe this is why I don't bother cooking anymore.
I find it a little hilarious that every kid thinks their mom is holding out the good food for themselves. It's as if the exact same food tastes a little better if it comes off of Mom's plate. I keep assuring Beatrice that I will not withhold anything delicious from her, but she doesn't believe me. She wants to have buy-tahs to see for herself. All of them.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
On the Right Track
So after I wrote this, I got serious about my family's health. I started eliminating those harmful additives I discussed and we ate more fresh fruits and vegetables. I have been baking our bread and making our sauces from scratch. We don't buy sodas anymore and we rarely eat refined sugars. Sigh. It felt like we were on the right track, but I knew we needed to do more.
Snacks were the next thing to tackle. I ordered the Brother's freeze dried fruit (Beatrice loves them), I bought Annie's organic cheddar bunnies in lieu of Goldfish crackers, and I bought all natural cereal Os with no added junk. My biggest fear with giving up Cheerios and Goldfish crackers was the convenience of them. I was concerned with not having clean snack options for Beatrice when we were on the go. But the more I looked, the more things I found that were made with natural ingredients and were better alternatives to the stuff found on most grocery store shelves.
Today we went to Whole Foods and stocked up. I found tons of snack and meal options for all of us that contain no chemical additives. I am a big nerd in the fact that I have been looking forward to our trip all week. I love going to Whole Foods. It took forever because I read every label before I put anything in our cart. I have learned that if there is a long list of ingredients with words I cannot pronounce, it's not really food. And the best part? I only spent $60 on 4 large bags of food. I'm kind of obsessed with saving money and shopping organically is not cheap. I have been programmed to think that food should be cheap and not be a huge expense in our budget. But if I invest in our health by eating the most nutritious foods possible, we are actually saving money because hopefully we will save in medical expenses down the road. You are what you eat, ya know?
I don't really make New Year's resolutions. I'm more apt to make goals and improvements. My goal for this year: eating better and more naturally. JD is less than thrilled with this plan. He likes his Big Macs and Mountain Dews. I like my cake and gummy bears. I'm not saying that we will never have those things, but for now, the majority of our food is going to be wholesome fruits and vegetables, lean proteins, and tons of water. No more artificial substances in our pantry. I'm excited.
The other day when Beatrice was chowing down on some hummus and whole wheat toast, JD asked if kids normally like hummus. I said that kids eat what is offered to them and depending on what is offered, that food becomes normal. I want healthy, wholesome foods to be normal to her. I want her to love her vegetables and prefer water over juice. I think we're on the right track and I'm excited about that.
Beatrice says, "I feel healthier already!"
Snacks were the next thing to tackle. I ordered the Brother's freeze dried fruit (Beatrice loves them), I bought Annie's organic cheddar bunnies in lieu of Goldfish crackers, and I bought all natural cereal Os with no added junk. My biggest fear with giving up Cheerios and Goldfish crackers was the convenience of them. I was concerned with not having clean snack options for Beatrice when we were on the go. But the more I looked, the more things I found that were made with natural ingredients and were better alternatives to the stuff found on most grocery store shelves.
Today we went to Whole Foods and stocked up. I found tons of snack and meal options for all of us that contain no chemical additives. I am a big nerd in the fact that I have been looking forward to our trip all week. I love going to Whole Foods. It took forever because I read every label before I put anything in our cart. I have learned that if there is a long list of ingredients with words I cannot pronounce, it's not really food. And the best part? I only spent $60 on 4 large bags of food. I'm kind of obsessed with saving money and shopping organically is not cheap. I have been programmed to think that food should be cheap and not be a huge expense in our budget. But if I invest in our health by eating the most nutritious foods possible, we are actually saving money because hopefully we will save in medical expenses down the road. You are what you eat, ya know?
I don't really make New Year's resolutions. I'm more apt to make goals and improvements. My goal for this year: eating better and more naturally. JD is less than thrilled with this plan. He likes his Big Macs and Mountain Dews. I like my cake and gummy bears. I'm not saying that we will never have those things, but for now, the majority of our food is going to be wholesome fruits and vegetables, lean proteins, and tons of water. No more artificial substances in our pantry. I'm excited.
The other day when Beatrice was chowing down on some hummus and whole wheat toast, JD asked if kids normally like hummus. I said that kids eat what is offered to them and depending on what is offered, that food becomes normal. I want healthy, wholesome foods to be normal to her. I want her to love her vegetables and prefer water over juice. I think we're on the right track and I'm excited about that.
Beatrice says, "I feel healthier already!"
Friday, December 31, 2010
We're Not Meant for the Outside World
JD and I have become that cliche couple that has a baby and never goes out again. You know the one. The couple that disappears off of the radar once they have a baby, never to be seen at couples' weekend getaways, the movie theater, or out to dinner again. The couple that holes up in their home and never goes anywhere without their precious offspring. That's us. And we kind of love it. We are big homebodies so this suits us just fine. We are more content watching a Netflix movie in our pajamas with our girl sleeping soundly upstairs than we would be at a restaurant. But every once in awhile, we are bitten by the social bug and actually want to venture outside of the comforts of our home and do something. Especially on a holiday weekend.
Tonight we decided to drive 30 miles into the city to a famous hotel to check out the massive Christmas light display they put on. Every year it gets better and better and since we haven't done anything in so long, we decided that it would be the perfect celebratory thing to do for New Year's Eve. Plus, we could take along Beatrice and she would love it.
I was so proud of us for not backing out like we've done for the last month. We got ready like we had planned and left on time. Everyone was in good spirits. We were going to get there early to avoid the traffic and have enough time to grab some Mexican food and be home in time for Beatrice's bedtime. It was going to be a night to remember. The start of a New Year's tradition perhaps. The night's potential had no limits as far as we were concerned.
We got there in excellent time. 4 o'clock on the dot. Actually, we got off of the exit at 4. It was about 5:15 when we made it the half mile onto the property. Traffic was a nightmare. We literally did not move, not one single inch, for an hour. I was starving, Beatrice was hollering in the backseat, and JD was mumbling what a terrible idea this was and how badly the whole thing sucked. It was not festive and definitely not celebratory. After pleading with Beatrice to be happily confined in the dark backseat to no avail, I crawled back there to set her free. Don't worry, we weren't moving. Children have to be buckled in a moving vehicle. We never moved so she was perfectly safe. Lots of climbing took place in between the several demands for boovie. Like boobie, but with an exotic twist. After 2 hours of sitting in line to get to the parking area, we gave up. We turned around and came home. I was disappointed and angry, JD was grumpy and impatient, and Beatrice was hungry. Our big night out was a complete wash.
As soon as I buckled Beatrice back in her car seat, she began to scream so I stayed in the backseat in efforts to keep her calm on the drive home. I failed miserably. While she screamed and cried for more boovie, I sat in the dark and fumed. I may have even cried a little bit. I hate when a plan doesn't work out. And I hate wasting time. Because of the level of suckage of being stuck in unmoving traffic for 2 hours, we didn't engage in meaningful conversation. We didn't discuss New Year's resolutions. We just complained. And whipped out boovies in the backseat of my car. It was a wasted night.
We ended up calling in takeout and eating at home. Beatrice went to bed an hour past her bedtime and JD had to go to work. It was not the perfect family night that I had planned. But as we laid in bed for a few moments before he had to leave, we started laughing as we recapped the night. How hilarious to have a perfectly planned outing go so horribly wrong. Especially when we never go out. It proved how terrible we are at outings and how perfect we are at staying in. Looking back, the whole shebang was pretty awesome.
Happy New Year!
Tonight we decided to drive 30 miles into the city to a famous hotel to check out the massive Christmas light display they put on. Every year it gets better and better and since we haven't done anything in so long, we decided that it would be the perfect celebratory thing to do for New Year's Eve. Plus, we could take along Beatrice and she would love it.
I was so proud of us for not backing out like we've done for the last month. We got ready like we had planned and left on time. Everyone was in good spirits. We were going to get there early to avoid the traffic and have enough time to grab some Mexican food and be home in time for Beatrice's bedtime. It was going to be a night to remember. The start of a New Year's tradition perhaps. The night's potential had no limits as far as we were concerned.
We got there in excellent time. 4 o'clock on the dot. Actually, we got off of the exit at 4. It was about 5:15 when we made it the half mile onto the property. Traffic was a nightmare. We literally did not move, not one single inch, for an hour. I was starving, Beatrice was hollering in the backseat, and JD was mumbling what a terrible idea this was and how badly the whole thing sucked. It was not festive and definitely not celebratory. After pleading with Beatrice to be happily confined in the dark backseat to no avail, I crawled back there to set her free. Don't worry, we weren't moving. Children have to be buckled in a moving vehicle. We never moved so she was perfectly safe. Lots of climbing took place in between the several demands for boovie. Like boobie, but with an exotic twist. After 2 hours of sitting in line to get to the parking area, we gave up. We turned around and came home. I was disappointed and angry, JD was grumpy and impatient, and Beatrice was hungry. Our big night out was a complete wash.
As soon as I buckled Beatrice back in her car seat, she began to scream so I stayed in the backseat in efforts to keep her calm on the drive home. I failed miserably. While she screamed and cried for more boovie, I sat in the dark and fumed. I may have even cried a little bit. I hate when a plan doesn't work out. And I hate wasting time. Because of the level of suckage of being stuck in unmoving traffic for 2 hours, we didn't engage in meaningful conversation. We didn't discuss New Year's resolutions. We just complained. And whipped out boovies in the backseat of my car. It was a wasted night.
We ended up calling in takeout and eating at home. Beatrice went to bed an hour past her bedtime and JD had to go to work. It was not the perfect family night that I had planned. But as we laid in bed for a few moments before he had to leave, we started laughing as we recapped the night. How hilarious to have a perfectly planned outing go so horribly wrong. Especially when we never go out. It proved how terrible we are at outings and how perfect we are at staying in. Looking back, the whole shebang was pretty awesome.
Happy New Year!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
The Worst Mother In the World
We had our first ER visit today. Beatrice got into some Germ-X hand sanitizer and after smelling her mouth, it was determined that she ingested some. I called the poison control hotline and they told me to take her to the hospital. So we packed a diaper bag and left. After 3 hours of being observed by the doctor and nurses, they told us she was going to be just fine. We could go. We left and I proceeded to beat myself up all night for being the worst mother in the world.
I'm very relaxed when it comes to Beatrice. I don't mind when she makes a mess, I let her play with my makeup, I don't call the doctor for every sniffle, and I don't freak out when she falls. I never want for her to get hurt or sick, but when it happens, I roll with it. Thankfully nothing serious has ever happened to her, but it's just my personality to not freak out when things do happen. And that totally freaks me out. She is my precious, vulnerable child. Why don't I worry more or stress when she toddles out of the room and gets into the pots and pans? Why do I assume that she can't get into anything dangerous? Ugggh, what is wrong with me?
Thankfully, she is totally fine and the worst part of the day was trying to keep her entertained in the hospital room for 3 hours. That was horrible. She wanted down so badly, but even I know that could be dangerous so we stayed on the bed watching Tom and Jerry cartoons on my phone. I have to step it up when it comes to what I let her get into. No more digging through the diaper bag (that's where she found the Germ-X), no more playing in my makeup (pretty sure some of that stuff is poisonous if consumed), and no more being so blasé when it comes to the fact that there are things that can hurt her. I am a responsible parent, but I'm a very easygoing when it comes to danger. And that has to stop. I don't want to be fearful of what can happen to her, but I need to be more aware of the dangers out there.
She needs me to be on my game.
I'm very relaxed when it comes to Beatrice. I don't mind when she makes a mess, I let her play with my makeup, I don't call the doctor for every sniffle, and I don't freak out when she falls. I never want for her to get hurt or sick, but when it happens, I roll with it. Thankfully nothing serious has ever happened to her, but it's just my personality to not freak out when things do happen. And that totally freaks me out. She is my precious, vulnerable child. Why don't I worry more or stress when she toddles out of the room and gets into the pots and pans? Why do I assume that she can't get into anything dangerous? Ugggh, what is wrong with me?
Thankfully, she is totally fine and the worst part of the day was trying to keep her entertained in the hospital room for 3 hours. That was horrible. She wanted down so badly, but even I know that could be dangerous so we stayed on the bed watching Tom and Jerry cartoons on my phone. I have to step it up when it comes to what I let her get into. No more digging through the diaper bag (that's where she found the Germ-X), no more playing in my makeup (pretty sure some of that stuff is poisonous if consumed), and no more being so blasé when it comes to the fact that there are things that can hurt her. I am a responsible parent, but I'm a very easygoing when it comes to danger. And that has to stop. I don't want to be fearful of what can happen to her, but I need to be more aware of the dangers out there.
She needs me to be on my game.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
No, No, No Beatrice
Beatrice is almost 14 months old. She says over 50 words, walks everywhere, she has mastered a few signs, and is this close to figuring out how to put her shoes on (shuusssss as she likes to call them). This is my favorite age so far. She is a little person who can communicate pretty well what she needs/likes/dislikes. Taking care of her is easy.
Beatrice is also very testy. VERY testy. She has discovered that when she is unhappy with her current situation, she has the ability to control her volume to more effectively communicate her dissatisfaction. This manifests itself in yelling and hitting herself, walls, floors, toys, and any other thing that is in her path of fury. Once, she had a momentary loss of sanity because she decided to hit me. She quickly realized that she must have lost her mind because hitting Mommy is a no-no with a capital N. When she forgets that hitting Mommy is not allowed, she quickly turns her hitting into patting and lays her head on me to show me that she was just playing around. "Just kidding, Mommy. I just lost my mind for a minute there."
While this age means a lot more freedom for both her and me, it is also the hardest on my patience. Beatrice wants to do everything. We hear "me me me me me" all day long. She wants to hold her spoon. She wants to hold your spoon. She wants to put her shoes on by herself. She wants to get her snack by herself. She wants to be big and gets very frustrated when whatever she wants isn't for toddlers. And most of the things she wants to "me me me me" are dangerous.
Like shutting doors. Beatrice is like a teenager in the way that she likes to close her bedroom door and turn the iPod on the highest decibel. If we try to open her door, she slams it in our faces. Playing in an unsupervised room behind closed doors is not for toddlers.
Whatcha doin, Beatrice?
Let Daddy see.
Beatrice Claire, don't you shut that door!
Beatrice, open up. NOW!
Mommy said no.
STOP!!!
No more! Give that to Mommy.
Mommy's sorry that you're sad, but iPods are not for toddlers.
And that's just one of the many battles we have on a daily basis. Some days, I feel like all I do is tell Beatrice no, no, no and take things away from her. But safety comes first. Fun and slamming doors always come second. Always.
Beatrice is also very testy. VERY testy. She has discovered that when she is unhappy with her current situation, she has the ability to control her volume to more effectively communicate her dissatisfaction. This manifests itself in yelling and hitting herself, walls, floors, toys, and any other thing that is in her path of fury. Once, she had a momentary loss of sanity because she decided to hit me. She quickly realized that she must have lost her mind because hitting Mommy is a no-no with a capital N. When she forgets that hitting Mommy is not allowed, she quickly turns her hitting into patting and lays her head on me to show me that she was just playing around. "Just kidding, Mommy. I just lost my mind for a minute there."
While this age means a lot more freedom for both her and me, it is also the hardest on my patience. Beatrice wants to do everything. We hear "me me me me me" all day long. She wants to hold her spoon. She wants to hold your spoon. She wants to put her shoes on by herself. She wants to get her snack by herself. She wants to be big and gets very frustrated when whatever she wants isn't for toddlers. And most of the things she wants to "me me me me" are dangerous.
Like shutting doors. Beatrice is like a teenager in the way that she likes to close her bedroom door and turn the iPod on the highest decibel. If we try to open her door, she slams it in our faces. Playing in an unsupervised room behind closed doors is not for toddlers.
Whatcha doin, Beatrice?
Let Daddy see.
Beatrice Claire, don't you shut that door!
Beatrice, open up. NOW!
Mommy said no.
STOP!!!
No more! Give that to Mommy.
Mommy's sorry that you're sad, but iPods are not for toddlers.
And that's just one of the many battles we have on a daily basis. Some days, I feel like all I do is tell Beatrice no, no, no and take things away from her. But safety comes first. Fun and slamming doors always come second. Always.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Blustery
We have snow.
Not much, but enough to cancel schools and make driving a last resort option since the roads are slick. When we get snow around here, people strip the grocery store shelves of milk and eggs and hole up in their homes until the roads clear. Southerners don't drive in the snow. At least this Southerner doesn't.
Unless it's to go to Best Buy to get a new DSLR camera. Remember when I got paid to write for a food website? Well, I got fired. Not really, I was told that there were copyright issues with some of the content so the site was ceasing all new entries for the time being. While all of that may be true, I can't help but think the quality (or lack thereof) of my photos wasn't really making me a hot commodity for their site. The editor kept emailing me links on how to take a better photo. I tried to explain that my puny digital camera just wasn't capable of taking high quality photos, but it didn't really matter. They loved my writing but wanted better pictures. It got to the point that it was just embarrassing. So I got a new camera. JD took it over as soon as I got home from the icy conditions. He said that as the man, he felt obligated to learn all about the camera so he could teach his lowly wife. Mmm hmmm.
Look at how high I can jump. JD made me do this at least 10 times so he could master the "action" feature.
We took Beatrice out to touch the snow. I wanted to lay her in it to make snow angels but JD wouldn't let me.
It was really, really cold. She enjoyed the snow much better from inside the house.
We made cookies and ate them warm from the oven. There may have been some fa-la-la-la-la-ing in between all of the nom-nom-nomming.
The sound of the drip, drip, drip from the faucets paired with the howling wind is gonna make for some good sleeping. The overnight low is 8 degrees. Thank God JD is off tonight. Snuggles are in my future on this blustery night.
Not much, but enough to cancel schools and make driving a last resort option since the roads are slick. When we get snow around here, people strip the grocery store shelves of milk and eggs and hole up in their homes until the roads clear. Southerners don't drive in the snow. At least this Southerner doesn't.
Unless it's to go to Best Buy to get a new DSLR camera. Remember when I got paid to write for a food website? Well, I got fired. Not really, I was told that there were copyright issues with some of the content so the site was ceasing all new entries for the time being. While all of that may be true, I can't help but think the quality (or lack thereof) of my photos wasn't really making me a hot commodity for their site. The editor kept emailing me links on how to take a better photo. I tried to explain that my puny digital camera just wasn't capable of taking high quality photos, but it didn't really matter. They loved my writing but wanted better pictures. It got to the point that it was just embarrassing. So I got a new camera. JD took it over as soon as I got home from the icy conditions. He said that as the man, he felt obligated to learn all about the camera so he could teach his lowly wife. Mmm hmmm.
Look at how high I can jump. JD made me do this at least 10 times so he could master the "action" feature.
We took Beatrice out to touch the snow. I wanted to lay her in it to make snow angels but JD wouldn't let me.
It was really, really cold. She enjoyed the snow much better from inside the house.
We made cookies and ate them warm from the oven. There may have been some fa-la-la-la-la-ing in between all of the nom-nom-nomming.
The sound of the drip, drip, drip from the faucets paired with the howling wind is gonna make for some good sleeping. The overnight low is 8 degrees. Thank God JD is off tonight. Snuggles are in my future on this blustery night.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
I Need My Mommy
I have never felt comfortable being called an adult. I don't feel like an adult. I feel the very same way that I felt at 16: old enough to drive and kiss boys, but not old enough to have a mortgage or a child. On my wedding day, I seriously thought that someone would interject and say, "Come on. She's just a kid. A child bride. Alyson, take off that veil and all of that makeup and go clean your room." I felt like a kid, even though I was 26. And I still feel that way.
Don't get me wrong, I am responsible. I pay our bills, I save money, I brush my teeth before bed, and I eat my vegetables. But when faced with grown up decisions, I get uneasy. My stomach hurts and I get anxious. I do not feel qualified to make such huge decisions. Not as a child bride and teen mother.
JD and I have been talking about making some huge decisions lately. Huge financial decisions that make me want to puke. And even though JD is older than me (36), he feels the same. We are 2 kids terrified of all of the grown up things we have managed to avoid, but really should deal with head on. You know, since we have a child now and everything.
Things like our house and our need to grow if we ever want to grow our family. We live in a 2 bedroom townhouse. We own said townhouse and have made it our home. Our home however, is just the right size for a family of 3. Add a cat and things start getting cramped. Add in more children and things start getting ridiculous. No, we're not having any more children right now but we would like to soon and if we stay in our current place, it would be difficult. Our place is so perfect because financially, it is at our comfort level. We are settled in our budget and any big changes feels like the scariest thing ever. I don't feel qualified to make this decision. Neither does my teen husband.
I have spent all day scribbling out our budget on the back of some pink paper. See, that's an indication of my never ending youth. A grown up would've made a spreadsheet in basic font. JD and I are going to talk about it tonight, but I know it's going to be awkward and weird because we feel silly making these decisions. Maybe our moms will come over and figure it out for us, then make us go to bed early. But we'll show them who's boss by staying up late and watching T.V. Because that's what mature adults do. Oh, and then go buy a house too.
Don't get me wrong, I am responsible. I pay our bills, I save money, I brush my teeth before bed, and I eat my vegetables. But when faced with grown up decisions, I get uneasy. My stomach hurts and I get anxious. I do not feel qualified to make such huge decisions. Not as a child bride and teen mother.
JD and I have been talking about making some huge decisions lately. Huge financial decisions that make me want to puke. And even though JD is older than me (36), he feels the same. We are 2 kids terrified of all of the grown up things we have managed to avoid, but really should deal with head on. You know, since we have a child now and everything.
Things like our house and our need to grow if we ever want to grow our family. We live in a 2 bedroom townhouse. We own said townhouse and have made it our home. Our home however, is just the right size for a family of 3. Add a cat and things start getting cramped. Add in more children and things start getting ridiculous. No, we're not having any more children right now but we would like to soon and if we stay in our current place, it would be difficult. Our place is so perfect because financially, it is at our comfort level. We are settled in our budget and any big changes feels like the scariest thing ever. I don't feel qualified to make this decision. Neither does my teen husband.
I have spent all day scribbling out our budget on the back of some pink paper. See, that's an indication of my never ending youth. A grown up would've made a spreadsheet in basic font. JD and I are going to talk about it tonight, but I know it's going to be awkward and weird because we feel silly making these decisions. Maybe our moms will come over and figure it out for us, then make us go to bed early. But we'll show them who's boss by staying up late and watching T.V. Because that's what mature adults do. Oh, and then go buy a house too.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Cold
The weather has finally caught up with the season and it is cold here. We have been sipping steaming mugs of cider and wearing flannel pajamas. I have a pumpkin candle burning, beef stew on the week's menu and extra blankets on the beds. I love this weather despite being cold all of the time. I have a bad habit of forgetting to wear a coat in the winter. This bad habit has leaked onto to poor Beatrice because I forget to put coats on her too. We spent the whole day in our pajamas playing on the living room with our girl. It has been a great day of snuggling, resting and enjoying the cold from the warmth of our home.
I still have the cold that first afflicted me last Friday. It is a beast. It is hands down the worst cold of my life. I am going on week two with little signs of it letting up. And since I nurse, I can't take anything. Plus I'm of the thought pattern that the less artificial stuff you put in your body, the better it works so I bought every citrus fruit in the produce section. Today I have eaten a tangerine, a pink grape fruit and a navel orange. I think I am actually feeling better. I can only hope.
Since the cold is here to stay (the temperature, not the illness), it is time to get ready for the holidays!! I have been begging JD to put up the Christmas tree. He won't. Scrooge. Soon it will be out with the mums, scarecrows and pumpkins and in with the poinsettias, wreaths and tiny twinkling lights. I can't wait. I may have been doing a little internet Christmas shopping to help me get in the holiday spirit.....
In the meantime, take a look at these pictures of Beatrice in the freezing cold.
These were from her 1 year session and it was 39 degrees. Notice the short sleeves and bare feet. It was really, really cold. Poor girl.
Beatrice says, "stay warm and remind your mommy to bring coats."
Photos by Sara Rose Photography.
I still have the cold that first afflicted me last Friday. It is a beast. It is hands down the worst cold of my life. I am going on week two with little signs of it letting up. And since I nurse, I can't take anything. Plus I'm of the thought pattern that the less artificial stuff you put in your body, the better it works so I bought every citrus fruit in the produce section. Today I have eaten a tangerine, a pink grape fruit and a navel orange. I think I am actually feeling better. I can only hope.
Since the cold is here to stay (the temperature, not the illness), it is time to get ready for the holidays!! I have been begging JD to put up the Christmas tree. He won't. Scrooge. Soon it will be out with the mums, scarecrows and pumpkins and in with the poinsettias, wreaths and tiny twinkling lights. I can't wait. I may have been doing a little internet Christmas shopping to help me get in the holiday spirit.....
In the meantime, take a look at these pictures of Beatrice in the freezing cold.
These were from her 1 year session and it was 39 degrees. Notice the short sleeves and bare feet. It was really, really cold. Poor girl.
Beatrice says, "stay warm and remind your mommy to bring coats."
Photos by Sara Rose Photography.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Brown Sugar
Experts say that babies do their growing while they are asleep. Their little brains absorb all of the day's information while their bodies physically get bigger. All while sleeping. How cool is that? No one can watch it happen, but it really is true. It is one of life's little mysteries and coolest tricks.
Beatrice grows in her sleep. I remember when she was around 2 months old, one day she woke up and had outgrown the outfit that fit her the night before. It was such a weird thing to have a noticeably bigger baby than you had the day before. But do you want to know what is even weirder than having your baby grow in her sleep? Her waking up every morning for the past couple of months with sticky hair that smells like brown sugar. That is life's biggest mystery.
At least in our house it is. I can't figure it out. I bathe her before bed and let her clean, combed hair dry before I put her in her crib. The crib is clean with only a few of her "babies" in the corners. There is no food up there and she is not yet agile enough to climb out of her crib, walk downstairs to the pantry, rub brown sugar in her hair, go back upstairs and climb back into her crib. I have faith that with a little more sleep growing, she will be capable of this pretty soon. So you can understand my profound befuddlement when I find my little baby's hair looking like this every morning:
I spend the first few minutes of morning milkies raking my fingers through the sticky rat's nests. But the strangest thing of all is the way it smells. Nothing like the Johnson's and Johnson's baby shampoo. It smells like molasses. Don't get me wrong, I like it. But I have no idea what happens during the 12 hours she's in that crib at night to end up with brown sugar hair. Don't judge me but I licked it one morning and it tastes sweet too. What? You would lick your baby's hair too if it inexplicably smelled like cookies.
I may never figure out why Beatrice's hair smells like sugar every morning. I do know that her little body needs sleep to grow and I'm not gonna mess with that. And no matter what happens at night in her crib, waking up to hair that looks like this and tastes good is pretty amazing.
Beatrice grows in her sleep. I remember when she was around 2 months old, one day she woke up and had outgrown the outfit that fit her the night before. It was such a weird thing to have a noticeably bigger baby than you had the day before. But do you want to know what is even weirder than having your baby grow in her sleep? Her waking up every morning for the past couple of months with sticky hair that smells like brown sugar. That is life's biggest mystery.
At least in our house it is. I can't figure it out. I bathe her before bed and let her clean, combed hair dry before I put her in her crib. The crib is clean with only a few of her "babies" in the corners. There is no food up there and she is not yet agile enough to climb out of her crib, walk downstairs to the pantry, rub brown sugar in her hair, go back upstairs and climb back into her crib. I have faith that with a little more sleep growing, she will be capable of this pretty soon. So you can understand my profound befuddlement when I find my little baby's hair looking like this every morning:
I spend the first few minutes of morning milkies raking my fingers through the sticky rat's nests. But the strangest thing of all is the way it smells. Nothing like the Johnson's and Johnson's baby shampoo. It smells like molasses. Don't get me wrong, I like it. But I have no idea what happens during the 12 hours she's in that crib at night to end up with brown sugar hair. Don't judge me but I licked it one morning and it tastes sweet too. What? You would lick your baby's hair too if it inexplicably smelled like cookies.
I may never figure out why Beatrice's hair smells like sugar every morning. I do know that her little body needs sleep to grow and I'm not gonna mess with that. And no matter what happens at night in her crib, waking up to hair that looks like this and tastes good is pretty amazing.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
What Baby Wants, Baby Gets
JD and I went shopping for Beatrice's birthday gifts the other day. We were only going to get a few toys, maybe some books, an outfit or 2. We thought we'd spend $50 or so. 5 DVDs, 3 books, 4 outfits, 3 pairs of shoes, and countless toys later, we left. We spent over $250. We got a little carried away. But it is her first birthday and we just couldn't help ourselves. And in all honesty, we have bought very little for our girl this year. We have been blessed to have our mothers buy most of her clothes and aunts and uncles have supplied her with toys. This first year has been relatively cheap.
Everyone told us that having a baby would be the most expensive thing we'd ever do but we have managed to raise a baby on the cheap. To date, here are the typical baby expenses we've encountered:
Natural childbirth with no drugs: $1000 (This is what we paid, insurance covered the rest).
Pediatrician visits: $100 (5 well baby visits at $20 a pop).
Milk: Free! (I make my own milkies and Beatrice thinks they're delicious).
Diapers: $200 (We use cloth so this amount includes the initial cost of diapers and detergent. Best parenting/budgeting decision evah).
Food: A bazillion dollars (Our child is a little piggy. She eats like a teenage boy).
Clothes: $200 (I have not had to buy her anything but having a girl makes not shopping for mary janes and smocked dresses impossible).
Wipes: $50 (There are cloth wipes out there but I'm not that green).
Toys: $250 (See above birthday shopping extravaganza).
In a year, we've spent approximately $1800. When the average estimated cost of raising a child is $250,000 for 18 years, we feel pretty good about the measly 2 grand we've spent this year. I know it is only going to get more expensive as she gets older, but at this rate we can afford at least 3 more babies right away. Honey? Honey, are you there? Okay maybe not right away, but we can afford to buy a boat load of toys and books and clothes for our girl's first birthday in 3 short days. And maybe think about another baby soon......
Beatrice says, "I'm not ready to be a big girl."
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Moms Are Like Glue
At the risk of sounding cliche, becoming a parent has changed everything in my life. And while it is all mostly for the better, the one thing I don't think I will ever get used to is not having sick days or time off. When you're a mother, you have to go and do and conquer. Despite how awful you feel, diapers still need to be changed, babies still need to be rocked and husbands (and babies) still need to eat. Mom has to pull it together, even when she feels like she is falling apart.
I feel like I am falling apart. I have had less than 5 hours of sleep for the past 3 nights and I am worn down. When I get this tired, my patience runs out and my housekeeping takes a back seat to everything. JD would have a fit if he came downstairs and saw the place. Before I had a child, I would just catch up on sleep during the day or take it easy until I felt rested. That is not an option now and I'm beginning to accept that it may never be. With JD working the night shift and sleeping during the day, I have to get up regardless of how little sleep I got the night before and press on. Beatrice slows down for no one.
It's not just being tired that is taking its toll on me, I have so much to do. Beatrice's party is a week from today and I have several projects started that need finishing. I have to finish the blanket that I am making her and pick out a cake. I have to finalize the menu and clean this house. I have to grocery shop and fold laundry. And because I'm so tired, I don't feel like doing any of it. My dining room table has looked like this for 3 days now:
That's what 3 weeks of coupons look like. Don't get that behind, trust me. It is no fun.
JD has a cold and he is up in the bed feeling like crap. I don't mind that he gets to settle in until he feels better, but sometimes I wish I could take a day off to stay in bed and feel better. But I'm the mom. I've got to keep it together so we all don't fall apart.
You could make it all better by voting for the blog ;)
I feel like I am falling apart. I have had less than 5 hours of sleep for the past 3 nights and I am worn down. When I get this tired, my patience runs out and my housekeeping takes a back seat to everything. JD would have a fit if he came downstairs and saw the place. Before I had a child, I would just catch up on sleep during the day or take it easy until I felt rested. That is not an option now and I'm beginning to accept that it may never be. With JD working the night shift and sleeping during the day, I have to get up regardless of how little sleep I got the night before and press on. Beatrice slows down for no one.
It's not just being tired that is taking its toll on me, I have so much to do. Beatrice's party is a week from today and I have several projects started that need finishing. I have to finish the blanket that I am making her and pick out a cake. I have to finalize the menu and clean this house. I have to grocery shop and fold laundry. And because I'm so tired, I don't feel like doing any of it. My dining room table has looked like this for 3 days now:
That's what 3 weeks of coupons look like. Don't get that behind, trust me. It is no fun.
JD has a cold and he is up in the bed feeling like crap. I don't mind that he gets to settle in until he feels better, but sometimes I wish I could take a day off to stay in bed and feel better. But I'm the mom. I've got to keep it together so we all don't fall apart.
You could make it all better by voting for the blog ;)
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Togetherness
We are a big togetherness kind of family. JD and I really like being together. We don't have to actually be doing anything, just hanging out together is enough. This has become a rarity now that he is on the midnight shift. He sleeps during most of the day and by the time he wakes, it's late afternoon. And while we're still together during this time, I am preoccupied with dinner, baths and bedtime for our little one. Weekends practically don't exist anymore. His off days are Sundays and Mondays but he still tries to maintain his schedule by sleeping as late as he can. Every day kinda feels the same around here and we don't get enough togetherness.
Except for today.
Today has been glorious. JD was supposed to have a court case to attend this morning but it was cancelled at the last minute. After he showered, dressed up like a stud (rawr) and got hyped up on Starbucks. So he came home and spent the day with us. We did absolutely nothing. We stayed in our pajamas until 2, made omelets and coffee and watched 4 hours of The Sopranos. Beatrice napped for awhile and then we all played together. We took turns reading and building block towers and playing Angry Birds on my Droid. Best game evah! To some, it was a total waste of day. But to us, it was just what we needed. I could stay in my pajamas forever with JD. If it's just me at home, I hate it and have to get dressed early. He brings out the couch potato in me.
Today actually felt like a weekend day to me. Our days look pretty much the same and while I love staying home, I never get that excited feeling that I used to get on Saturday mornings when I worked thinking that I had the whole day to do whatever I wanted. Having a day of nothingness and lounging with my family made me feel great, like I had a little weekend break on a Tuesday.
Everyone is napping so I finally took a shower. Beatrice and I have to run some errands later and while this morning was great, we cannot do nothing forever. JD returns to work tonight and tomorrow we'll be back to our regular routine. It was great while it lasted. Everyone needs a big ol' day of togetherness every now and then. Even if that means doing absolutely nothing.
Except for today.
Today has been glorious. JD was supposed to have a court case to attend this morning but it was cancelled at the last minute. After he showered, dressed up like a stud (rawr) and got hyped up on Starbucks. So he came home and spent the day with us. We did absolutely nothing. We stayed in our pajamas until 2, made omelets and coffee and watched 4 hours of The Sopranos. Beatrice napped for awhile and then we all played together. We took turns reading and building block towers and playing Angry Birds on my Droid. Best game evah! To some, it was a total waste of day. But to us, it was just what we needed. I could stay in my pajamas forever with JD. If it's just me at home, I hate it and have to get dressed early. He brings out the couch potato in me.
Today actually felt like a weekend day to me. Our days look pretty much the same and while I love staying home, I never get that excited feeling that I used to get on Saturday mornings when I worked thinking that I had the whole day to do whatever I wanted. Having a day of nothingness and lounging with my family made me feel great, like I had a little weekend break on a Tuesday.
Everyone is napping so I finally took a shower. Beatrice and I have to run some errands later and while this morning was great, we cannot do nothing forever. JD returns to work tonight and tomorrow we'll be back to our regular routine. It was great while it lasted. Everyone needs a big ol' day of togetherness every now and then. Even if that means doing absolutely nothing.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Moving On Sucks
When I got married, I wanted all of my friends to get married too. When I got pregnant, I wanted them to get pregnant with me. Begged is more like it. I have this fear of moving on without them or worse, them moving on without me. I don't want to be left out or leave anybody out in life's experiences. And nothing drives friends apart like being the only married one with a baby.
I spent the day with my sisters in law: the Jennies. Jenny is married to my older brother and Jenni belongs to my younger brother. They have been dating for approximately 87 years so she is very much apart of the family and I consider her a sister in law too. We went into the city and shopped and had a long lunch talking and planning Jenni's engagement that will happen in about 25 more years. Fingers crossed. While it was fun and a much needed time to reconnect and laugh together, I couldn't help but feel like we weren't on the same plain anymore. It was like they stayed behind in "fun young adult land" while I moved on to "routine parent land." Neither of them have children. While they browsed Urban Outfitters like they didn't have a care in the world and time was no concern, I entertained Beatrice with cat pillows, a giant Where's Waldo book, and several walks around the block. And then she needed to nurse so while Jenny tried on fabulous new clothes that she can wear to fabulous places, I sat on her reject pile and nursed my baby. We did not have the same shopping experience, to say the least.
Our lives are different. And hanging out with them all day really made me realize that we are no longer going through the same marriage woes or fashion crises; they've moved on. Or stayed behind. Wherever they are, it's not the same place as me. And it makes me sad. But not because I want to be where they are. I love my life, husband and baby and am ready for 10 more just like her. I'm sad because I don't want to move on so much that they never catch up. I want us to have babies together and talk about breast feeding and poop like we used to talk about clothes and Jenni and Grant's relationship. Ha! And if they wait much longer to marry (Jenni) and have babies (Jenny), then I will have moved on so far ahead that we won't be relatable to each other anymore. Sob!
I hate how life happens at different times for the different people in my life. I wish that all of my girlfriends got married in the same year, got pregnant and chased around almost 1 year olds together. But that did not happen. Instead, some married before me, some after and some not at all. Yet. But out of all of my close friends, I am the only one with a baby. And it is lonely sitting at a lunch table picking peaches off of the floor while your friends look at you like they can't imagine being you. A mother, who has moved on.
The Jennies and me night skiing a hundred years ago. Jenni showed us her most excellent moves on this trip.
We can fight like sisters. Not really.
But we love each other. They're my Jennies.
I spent the day with my sisters in law: the Jennies. Jenny is married to my older brother and Jenni belongs to my younger brother. They have been dating for approximately 87 years so she is very much apart of the family and I consider her a sister in law too. We went into the city and shopped and had a long lunch talking and planning Jenni's engagement that will happen in about 25 more years. Fingers crossed. While it was fun and a much needed time to reconnect and laugh together, I couldn't help but feel like we weren't on the same plain anymore. It was like they stayed behind in "fun young adult land" while I moved on to "routine parent land." Neither of them have children. While they browsed Urban Outfitters like they didn't have a care in the world and time was no concern, I entertained Beatrice with cat pillows, a giant Where's Waldo book, and several walks around the block. And then she needed to nurse so while Jenny tried on fabulous new clothes that she can wear to fabulous places, I sat on her reject pile and nursed my baby. We did not have the same shopping experience, to say the least.
Our lives are different. And hanging out with them all day really made me realize that we are no longer going through the same marriage woes or fashion crises; they've moved on. Or stayed behind. Wherever they are, it's not the same place as me. And it makes me sad. But not because I want to be where they are. I love my life, husband and baby and am ready for 10 more just like her. I'm sad because I don't want to move on so much that they never catch up. I want us to have babies together and talk about breast feeding and poop like we used to talk about clothes and Jenni and Grant's relationship. Ha! And if they wait much longer to marry (Jenni) and have babies (Jenny), then I will have moved on so far ahead that we won't be relatable to each other anymore. Sob!
I hate how life happens at different times for the different people in my life. I wish that all of my girlfriends got married in the same year, got pregnant and chased around almost 1 year olds together. But that did not happen. Instead, some married before me, some after and some not at all. Yet. But out of all of my close friends, I am the only one with a baby. And it is lonely sitting at a lunch table picking peaches off of the floor while your friends look at you like they can't imagine being you. A mother, who has moved on.
The Jennies and me night skiing a hundred years ago. Jenni showed us her most excellent moves on this trip.
We can fight like sisters. Not really.
But we love each other. They're my Jennies.
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