Yesterday, I ran to the store to "get going" on the holidays. Katy had come home from her teaching gig and offered to watch the kid so I could "pound out" some shopping before the snow really started and before she had to go to job number two.
SIDE BAR: Yesterday, job number two involved going to a Christmas party with her office staff. I'm blogging about this even though I made her promise not to tell our parents that we went out into the storm to get ourselves to said Christmas party... Since we all got home safe and sound, I'm hoping it's okay to admit that we made such a stupid decision (one that put us on the road for 4 hours to travel less than 10 miles. When we could have been sitting home drinking cocoa and tea, we ventured out to eat a crappy, comped meal in under 30 minutes b/c we were late and everyone, rightfully, wanted to hit the road and get home out of the storm.)
So, before the party, I left the baby and my Boo, to shop. Even though the snow had all ready started coming down pretty hard, I was all relaxed and "happy-adrenaline." I was psyched about the snow storm, about our all wheel drive vehicles, about being alive. I was drunk on love, on purchasing power, on the blessings of the last few months. I was also pensive and feeling cosmically lucky; like a woman who has landed safely after jumping out of a plane and spending several moments in panicked free fall unable to open the parachute.
I am lucky. LUcky. LUCKy. Lu-u-u-KEYYYYY.
I was thinking of the juxtaposition of our life now and of the summer. Of the people that are not here to experience Christmas this year, and the childless dad they left behind. The sad insanity of that paradox made me wanted to run outside in the blizzard until there was a snowbank to stick my head into. I turned the radio on and Katy had this song cued up on her CD player.
And.
I.
CRANKED.
it.
up!
I turned it up so loud, the pavement under my tires vibrated and my ears strained to hear all the sounds at once. The reverberating beat was healing, cleansing, and the tiniest bit painful.
It hurt so good.
I don't even know what the hell that song is about, but it was the right song at the right time, and I felt no conflict in the complete self indulgence of the moment.
Later, I thought about all those times I've been at a traffic light and someone else's music was vibrating my tires and hurting my ears, and how cranky that made me at those moments.
I kind of smiled at my cantankerous, too-young-to-be-acting-this-old self getting all, "TURN DOWN YOUR MUZACK, SONNY!!!" And I was glad to gain a new perspective: Maybe what I have considered "noise pollution" all this time has been a necessary outlet and expression of emotion for those drivers/ disturbers of my peace.
Another day, another fucking growth opportunity (AFGO.)
Friday, December 14, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Cross dressing at Christmas
As Tracy mentioned, we are scheduled to appear in this year's Christmas Pageant at church as the holy family, with JB playing the good Lord himself. Tracy said we could do it but she was going to be Mary. I could be Joseph if I wanted to.
I never thought the first time I went out in drag, it would be to church.
I never thought the first time I went out in drag, it would be to church.
The Second Sunday of Advent
When I was growing up, I was one of those kids (read: "dork") who loved church. I loved the sitting, kneeling, praying; the folding your hands and pondering quietly; the reciting of the mass, etc. I felt safe there and it made sense to me. I bought into it all hook, line, and sinker.
I understood what they meant when they said that "Jesus Christ was 100% human and 100% God." When I prayed to Jesus as a child and as an adolescent, I knew that he had walked the same path I was walking on earth, and I knew he had felt the sometimes insignificant (in an eternal sense) pains and dramas of trying to be a good person. The lessons of the church never felt oppressive to me. If it was an indoctrination, it was very peaceful and agreeable to me. It made perfect sense for example that God could be one, singular entity; but also equal parts of a trinity. It was not confusing to me that communion wasn't merely a symbolic representation of life-giving bread, but transubstantiation that made body and blood of bread and wine. (I was on board with all of that and with the fact that we didn't believe in Magic, and we didn't believe in cannibalism.) Furthermore, I loved the singing and the sitting together with my family for an hour a week, dedicated to some ideas that were bigger and longer-lasting than our human existence.
When I was in college, I attended the Jesuit Church on campus regularly. Going to church at home became a little harder as I started to notice how sexist some of the rituals were. I didn't like how often politics seemed to creep into mass. There was one deacon at my family's church who rarely gave a sermon about feeding the poor, nursing the sick, or volunteerism as a way to wage war on earth in God's name, but he never failed to mention abortion... outlawing abortion... and birth control was also always on his mind. At school, though, the Jesuits kept me in touch with my pal Jesus and his father, God. They focused on the message of living a good life on earth for not only heavenly rewards, but also the benefits uniquely tied to that type of simple living. My boyfriend and I would go to 10pm mass on Sunday nights and leave feeling full of gratitude, rejuvenated and ready to face another week of work and classes.
When I graduated from college things were spinning a little out of control for me. I realized that despite the love I had for my sweet, amazing boyfriend, I really was drawn and attracted to women. The trusting relationship I had developed with God lent to quite a bit of praying about what to do. The interesting thing was, my prayer revealed very different answers than the Roman Catholic Church was teaching. I knew inside myself that love was love. I had a well-developed conscience. I knew right from wrong. And after talking it over with God, it felt more wrong to lie, try to change myself, or "settle" than it did to "choose the homosexual lifestyle."
At that point in my life, I had the humility to accept that my decisions might be wrong in the eyes of God or my church or society. But if I was going to be this introspective and hard on myself, I felt the leaders of church and state must also be in touch with the limits of their "knowledge" of what God might believe. To borrow the words of Anne Lamott, "You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image, when it turns out that God hates all the same people that you do." At a certain point, I acknowledged to myself, there was no (wo)man or bishop, or human ruler that could truthfully know God's opinion and I would not tolerate a religious or secular leader that was unwilling to entertain that perspective.
Then all the stuff unfolded about hundreds of pedophile priests... and then somewhere in there, my best friend dies. At that point I'm ready to walk away from church because it is just too much. Too much compromise on my part. Too much dishonesty and hypocrisy on their part. Too much following ceremony and tradition (not because it feels right inside myself) but because it is easier to fake it, go through the motions, not question the reason, not upset the apple cart. But I feel too "catholic" (and frankly too tired) to look for another church.
Then I meet Katy. And 2 things happen. The first is that I find someone that I really want to create a family with. And the second is, when I take her to my family's church, it is changed to me. It is much more offensive to me. It was as if sitting there by myself, all the little ways the church "did not agree with" or "did not support" it's gay parishioners went completely unnoticed by me. I didn't mind much if they were talking about (or just ignoring) me. But when they were doing it to her - it really pissed me off - and it seemed so loud and intentional and mean spirited.
If this was the "one true church" as I had been taught to believe, then I didn't need church - I decided I wouldn't do that to my (future) family. Still, cutting church out of my life left me a feeling empty - shouldn't you go and commune with good people for an hour or so a week to recharge your spiritual self before facing the next week's toils?
Katy and I tried to reconcile this and found a church to marry in. It was important to me that God be invited to that party. But this also marked the beginning of a different kind of struggle between 2 parts of me. Should I really leave the church - my church... my family's church because of their stance on "gay issues"? vs. How do I ask my wife to give these people the time of day? What is good for a little girl (an assumed straight girl) is not good for her adult self, her wife, or her planned but unborn children.
It is still an unresolved struggle. There is a part of me that wants to meet my family at church on Sunday... wants to go to coffee with them after mass, wants to be the same religion they are, wants to teach my son about the sacraments and communion. There's a part of me that just can't quite figure out how to handle communion: Is it their communion to give to me - and therefore I should follow their rules? Or is it my communion - a sacrament and gift that God gave me? Out of respect for my loved ones and for God, should partake when "the Eucharist" is blessed and offered to me? When I go back to my family's church for weddings and funerals? Or should I refuse? If I abstain, is it because I am rejecting the RCChurch or because they are rejecting me??? Do you see what a quandary I'm in?
For the last few years, Katy and I have been attending a Unitarian Universalist Church. A church we loved instantly. We walked into this church thinking it was a congregational church we might "try out," and we've returned nearly every Sunday for three years.
This UU has much more "God language" than many UU's (which is something that is important to me). And has a wonderful female minister that brings tears to our eyes nearly every week with her humility and poignant directives to BE BETTER humans and HELP one another and FORGIVE your enemies and yourselves, and to follow a great and amazingly difficult commandment to LOVE.
Love.
Sounds simple, right? It's only simple if it's half-assed. (The minister's sentiment, my curse word added for emphasis.) Love, if it's done right is a life long endeavor... Love yourself so you can live a healthy, productive existence and so you can take care of those around you. Love others- if you dare- because shouldn't we be living in less isolation with more frequent communion?!?
This is the first church Katy has ever known - the first church she has loved. This church has already seen us through some hard times. The first time we were pregnant and then a few days later we weren't. The time we thought our relationship might be falling apart. The several weeks after our friends were attacked and killed in their home. This summer, after that brutal event (when I was 8,9, then 10 months pregnant) our minister continued leading us in the usual benediction at the end of church:
Go out into the world in peace.
Have courage.
Hold onto what is good.
Return to no person evil for evil.
Strengthen the fainthearted.
Support the weak.
Help the suffering.
Honor all beings.
It took 6 weeks before my voice stopped cracking during "hold on to what is good" and before I could say "return to no person evil for evil" without tears falling out of my eyes. And that's when I turned to Katy and said that I was finally ready to "sign the membership book." (She wanted to sign 3 years ago after about 2 Sunday services.)
The thing is, that benediction is has been guiding me though the simple questions in life... Should I really be speeding up to the assh8le who cut me off just to offer him a one fingered wave? But when you brush up against some example of real evil- how you react to it (even if only in the quiet of your heart) matters. And when you choose a spiritual leader, you'd better choose one with values you can lean on- that make sense to you. This benediction is only one part of the reason we love this church. These words cut to the meat of how I want to live my life. And if this is what it means to be a Unitarian Universalist, than I guess that is what I am. It is very much in line with what I need and what I believe.
So we joined. And when JB was born they announced it in the service and in the bulletin. And when they plan the Christmas nativity at our church, they ask the most recently born child (male or female) to play the part of baby Jesus. And if that baby happens to have been born to a couple of lesbians... everyone there seems to get kind of an excited glimmer in their eyes about it!
I understood what they meant when they said that "Jesus Christ was 100% human and 100% God." When I prayed to Jesus as a child and as an adolescent, I knew that he had walked the same path I was walking on earth, and I knew he had felt the sometimes insignificant (in an eternal sense) pains and dramas of trying to be a good person. The lessons of the church never felt oppressive to me. If it was an indoctrination, it was very peaceful and agreeable to me. It made perfect sense for example that God could be one, singular entity; but also equal parts of a trinity. It was not confusing to me that communion wasn't merely a symbolic representation of life-giving bread, but transubstantiation that made body and blood of bread and wine. (I was on board with all of that and with the fact that we didn't believe in Magic, and we didn't believe in cannibalism.) Furthermore, I loved the singing and the sitting together with my family for an hour a week, dedicated to some ideas that were bigger and longer-lasting than our human existence.
When I was in college, I attended the Jesuit Church on campus regularly. Going to church at home became a little harder as I started to notice how sexist some of the rituals were. I didn't like how often politics seemed to creep into mass. There was one deacon at my family's church who rarely gave a sermon about feeding the poor, nursing the sick, or volunteerism as a way to wage war on earth in God's name, but he never failed to mention abortion... outlawing abortion... and birth control was also always on his mind. At school, though, the Jesuits kept me in touch with my pal Jesus and his father, God. They focused on the message of living a good life on earth for not only heavenly rewards, but also the benefits uniquely tied to that type of simple living. My boyfriend and I would go to 10pm mass on Sunday nights and leave feeling full of gratitude, rejuvenated and ready to face another week of work and classes.
When I graduated from college things were spinning a little out of control for me. I realized that despite the love I had for my sweet, amazing boyfriend, I really was drawn and attracted to women. The trusting relationship I had developed with God lent to quite a bit of praying about what to do. The interesting thing was, my prayer revealed very different answers than the Roman Catholic Church was teaching. I knew inside myself that love was love. I had a well-developed conscience. I knew right from wrong. And after talking it over with God, it felt more wrong to lie, try to change myself, or "settle" than it did to "choose the homosexual lifestyle."
At that point in my life, I had the humility to accept that my decisions might be wrong in the eyes of God or my church or society. But if I was going to be this introspective and hard on myself, I felt the leaders of church and state must also be in touch with the limits of their "knowledge" of what God might believe. To borrow the words of Anne Lamott, "You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image, when it turns out that God hates all the same people that you do." At a certain point, I acknowledged to myself, there was no (wo)man or bishop, or human ruler that could truthfully know God's opinion and I would not tolerate a religious or secular leader that was unwilling to entertain that perspective.
Then all the stuff unfolded about hundreds of pedophile priests... and then somewhere in there, my best friend dies. At that point I'm ready to walk away from church because it is just too much. Too much compromise on my part. Too much dishonesty and hypocrisy on their part. Too much following ceremony and tradition (not because it feels right inside myself) but because it is easier to fake it, go through the motions, not question the reason, not upset the apple cart. But I feel too "catholic" (and frankly too tired) to look for another church.
Then I meet Katy. And 2 things happen. The first is that I find someone that I really want to create a family with. And the second is, when I take her to my family's church, it is changed to me. It is much more offensive to me. It was as if sitting there by myself, all the little ways the church "did not agree with" or "did not support" it's gay parishioners went completely unnoticed by me. I didn't mind much if they were talking about (or just ignoring) me. But when they were doing it to her - it really pissed me off - and it seemed so loud and intentional and mean spirited.
If this was the "one true church" as I had been taught to believe, then I didn't need church - I decided I wouldn't do that to my (future) family. Still, cutting church out of my life left me a feeling empty - shouldn't you go and commune with good people for an hour or so a week to recharge your spiritual self before facing the next week's toils?
Katy and I tried to reconcile this and found a church to marry in. It was important to me that God be invited to that party. But this also marked the beginning of a different kind of struggle between 2 parts of me. Should I really leave the church - my church... my family's church because of their stance on "gay issues"? vs. How do I ask my wife to give these people the time of day? What is good for a little girl (an assumed straight girl) is not good for her adult self, her wife, or her planned but unborn children.
It is still an unresolved struggle. There is a part of me that wants to meet my family at church on Sunday... wants to go to coffee with them after mass, wants to be the same religion they are, wants to teach my son about the sacraments and communion. There's a part of me that just can't quite figure out how to handle communion: Is it their communion to give to me - and therefore I should follow their rules? Or is it my communion - a sacrament and gift that God gave me? Out of respect for my loved ones and for God, should partake when "the Eucharist" is blessed and offered to me? When I go back to my family's church for weddings and funerals? Or should I refuse? If I abstain, is it because I am rejecting the RCChurch or because they are rejecting me??? Do you see what a quandary I'm in?
For the last few years, Katy and I have been attending a Unitarian Universalist Church. A church we loved instantly. We walked into this church thinking it was a congregational church we might "try out," and we've returned nearly every Sunday for three years.
This UU has much more "God language" than many UU's (which is something that is important to me). And has a wonderful female minister that brings tears to our eyes nearly every week with her humility and poignant directives to BE BETTER humans and HELP one another and FORGIVE your enemies and yourselves, and to follow a great and amazingly difficult commandment to LOVE.
Love.
Sounds simple, right? It's only simple if it's half-assed. (The minister's sentiment, my curse word added for emphasis.) Love, if it's done right is a life long endeavor... Love yourself so you can live a healthy, productive existence and so you can take care of those around you. Love others- if you dare- because shouldn't we be living in less isolation with more frequent communion?!?
This is the first church Katy has ever known - the first church she has loved. This church has already seen us through some hard times. The first time we were pregnant and then a few days later we weren't. The time we thought our relationship might be falling apart. The several weeks after our friends were attacked and killed in their home. This summer, after that brutal event (when I was 8,9, then 10 months pregnant) our minister continued leading us in the usual benediction at the end of church:
Go out into the world in peace.
Have courage.
Hold onto what is good.
Return to no person evil for evil.
Strengthen the fainthearted.
Support the weak.
Help the suffering.
Honor all beings.
It took 6 weeks before my voice stopped cracking during "hold on to what is good" and before I could say "return to no person evil for evil" without tears falling out of my eyes. And that's when I turned to Katy and said that I was finally ready to "sign the membership book." (She wanted to sign 3 years ago after about 2 Sunday services.)
The thing is, that benediction is has been guiding me though the simple questions in life... Should I really be speeding up to the assh8le who cut me off just to offer him a one fingered wave? But when you brush up against some example of real evil- how you react to it (even if only in the quiet of your heart) matters. And when you choose a spiritual leader, you'd better choose one with values you can lean on- that make sense to you. This benediction is only one part of the reason we love this church. These words cut to the meat of how I want to live my life. And if this is what it means to be a Unitarian Universalist, than I guess that is what I am. It is very much in line with what I need and what I believe.
So we joined. And when JB was born they announced it in the service and in the bulletin. And when they plan the Christmas nativity at our church, they ask the most recently born child (male or female) to play the part of baby Jesus. And if that baby happens to have been born to a couple of lesbians... everyone there seems to get kind of an excited glimmer in their eyes about it!
Restful Weekend
Our weekend was "unscheduled" and was supposed to be full of completing chores.
Yesterday, I spent several hours hanging lights and breaking down cardboard boxes. (The number of boxes that piled up in our garage during the last part of my pregnancy and immediate postpartum period was astounding.)
The afternoon brought a visit from some peeps that we met through Katy's teaching gig. The sweetness of getting to know new friends is amplified when if feels like you've known them for years. We fell into a rhythm of conversation and laughter that felt the very essence of Christmas. They cooed over our child, treated us to dinner, and still got us home at a reasonable hour. (All three of these things, are sad indicators of my advancing age- 1. The fact that i have a kid is still a little surprising 2. my feeble mental status has slowed my "tab-splitting math skills" and my credit card flashing speed 3. Our joy at being in bed by 10:30 last night borders on embarrassing.) The mommies even got some "adult, alone time" as it was JB's first weekend sleeping in his crib in his room...
Today, our old roommate stopped by on her way to the airport. Seeing her was wonderful. We made a yummy brunch, played a little with her daughter, introduced her to JB, and got the chance to catch up as old friends and new mommies.
The rest of the day was supposed to be dedicated to holiday prep, house cleaning, and cooking. Though I had it in my mind to make a trip to visit my sister and her family (I miss my Mac time...) but, it was just too easy to stay home, lay back, write a little, and watch some football with the kid crashed out on one or both of our chests. I should feel like I "wasted" the day, and didn't "capitalize" on the weekend... but I can't.
It was perfect.
I have a great life. (Even if our home is slightly not-clean, disorganized, and half-decorated.)
Yesterday, I spent several hours hanging lights and breaking down cardboard boxes. (The number of boxes that piled up in our garage during the last part of my pregnancy and immediate postpartum period was astounding.)
The afternoon brought a visit from some peeps that we met through Katy's teaching gig. The sweetness of getting to know new friends is amplified when if feels like you've known them for years. We fell into a rhythm of conversation and laughter that felt the very essence of Christmas. They cooed over our child, treated us to dinner, and still got us home at a reasonable hour. (All three of these things, are sad indicators of my advancing age- 1. The fact that i have a kid is still a little surprising 2. my feeble mental status has slowed my "tab-splitting math skills" and my credit card flashing speed 3. Our joy at being in bed by 10:30 last night borders on embarrassing.) The mommies even got some "adult, alone time" as it was JB's first weekend sleeping in his crib in his room...
Today, our old roommate stopped by on her way to the airport. Seeing her was wonderful. We made a yummy brunch, played a little with her daughter, introduced her to JB, and got the chance to catch up as old friends and new mommies.
The rest of the day was supposed to be dedicated to holiday prep, house cleaning, and cooking. Though I had it in my mind to make a trip to visit my sister and her family (I miss my Mac time...) but, it was just too easy to stay home, lay back, write a little, and watch some football with the kid crashed out on one or both of our chests. I should feel like I "wasted" the day, and didn't "capitalize" on the weekend... but I can't.
It was perfect.
I have a great life. (Even if our home is slightly not-clean, disorganized, and half-decorated.)
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Greatest internet game ever! (for today)
Test your vocabulary AND
donate grains of rice!!!
This is a confirmed and valid charity opportunity.
hat tip to Cheese and Wine
donate grains of rice!!!
This is a confirmed and valid charity opportunity.
hat tip to Cheese and Wine
Friday, December 07, 2007
The week in review
National News:
Scientists announced the discovery of a mummified dinosaur. President Bush put forth a plan to save or delay foreclosures and the US population revealed very split opinions of a govt "buy out" of the sub-prime mortgage market. The CIA destroyed video of "torture tapes" and Senator Kennedy, D (MA) compared the president's denial to the missing audio on the Watergate tape.
Entertainment news:
The president's daughter was promoting her book on the Ellen show and "called home" when Ellen asked her to.
Jodi Foster came out of the closet. I just said to Katy about a month ago... I'm about all done with Jodi, why is she so deep in the closet. You'd think by now, she would step out and act up a little...
The kid:
JB moved into his nursery last night... we are a little scarred, but I think he likes his new digs. He seemed to have some congestion all week, that I kept wanted to blame on his vaccinations last Friday. We have his tiny room outfitted with a space heater and a humidifier so that we can go back to keeping the house a little cooler during the night and still keep him blanket free. (lat year, the nighttime set temp in our house was 59 degrees and the 2 (future) mommies slept with 2 down comforters stacked on top of each other... when people ask what we do for the environment, that's what we should remember to tell them.
New on the home front: Stay at home mom's shirt count-
Monday: 2 shirts spit up on
Tuesday: 3 shirts spit up on
Wednesday: 2 shirts and 2 receiving blanket soiled
Thursday: 2 shirts
Friday: Wore the same shirt all day without any stains (so far)
The weather:
It's been cold here in the NE. It is finally winter... We had 2 small snow showers this week and as usual, people acted like they had never driven in the snow. It is snowing now.
There was a freak "blizzard watch" in Hawaii and an earthquake in North Carolina
Holiday preparations:
Shopping and gift buying- apx 1/3 done
Christmas cards- in hand, envelops all with stamps and return address labels, mailing label list nearly completed.
House decoration- we've been mid-decoration for about a week. Need to finish hanging lights outside, decorate the tree, etc. today
Food prep- kt and I have bought the ingredients to try some new holiday dessert recipes and I have started preparing my annual "Christmas homemade egg rolls" labor of love.
Scientists announced the discovery of a mummified dinosaur. President Bush put forth a plan to save or delay foreclosures and the US population revealed very split opinions of a govt "buy out" of the sub-prime mortgage market. The CIA destroyed video of "torture tapes" and Senator Kennedy, D (MA) compared the president's denial to the missing audio on the Watergate tape.
Entertainment news:
The president's daughter was promoting her book on the Ellen show and "called home" when Ellen asked her to.
Jodi Foster came out of the closet. I just said to Katy about a month ago... I'm about all done with Jodi, why is she so deep in the closet. You'd think by now, she would step out and act up a little...
The kid:
JB moved into his nursery last night... we are a little scarred, but I think he likes his new digs. He seemed to have some congestion all week, that I kept wanted to blame on his vaccinations last Friday. We have his tiny room outfitted with a space heater and a humidifier so that we can go back to keeping the house a little cooler during the night and still keep him blanket free. (lat year, the nighttime set temp in our house was 59 degrees and the 2 (future) mommies slept with 2 down comforters stacked on top of each other... when people ask what we do for the environment, that's what we should remember to tell them.
New on the home front: Stay at home mom's shirt count-
Monday: 2 shirts spit up on
Tuesday: 3 shirts spit up on
Wednesday: 2 shirts and 2 receiving blanket soiled
Thursday: 2 shirts
Friday: Wore the same shirt all day without any stains (so far)
The weather:
It's been cold here in the NE. It is finally winter... We had 2 small snow showers this week and as usual, people acted like they had never driven in the snow. It is snowing now.
There was a freak "blizzard watch" in Hawaii and an earthquake in North Carolina
Holiday preparations:
Shopping and gift buying- apx 1/3 done
Christmas cards- in hand, envelops all with stamps and return address labels, mailing label list nearly completed.
House decoration- we've been mid-decoration for about a week. Need to finish hanging lights outside, decorate the tree, etc. today
Food prep- kt and I have bought the ingredients to try some new holiday dessert recipes and I have started preparing my annual "Christmas homemade egg rolls" labor of love.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Touchdown pose
It's 7:50 am. I have my early morning headache. Kt is dressed, looking pretty hot in her regular "Uniform" for work*. The baby has been fussing (and when i say 'fussing' I mean the moderate twitching-ish flailing and 'gooing' that we've come to associate with our perfect child when he is not
1) totally satiated
2) adequately rested
3) recently diapered
4) without any digestive discomfort what so ever.)
We've been reading the Baby Whisperer, and "paying attention to our baby" as she advises. I think you have to take all baby advice with an open mind AND a grain of salt, but I like her general perspective (My summary: Treat your baby like a person, be respectful, listen, and learn about him; but like you would for any other person in your life, set limits and be in charge of creating a relationship that you can live with down the road...) Her point of view has been helpful and reassuring. She reminds her fans that babies will cry, it's their only way to communicate... give them a minute to cry and listen to figure out what they want. In other words, don't just shove a tittie in their mouth. The more you listen, the more differentiated their cries will sound in your ears and you will learn to identify the meaning of various cries.
Back to us at yellow, suburban house: Often, he acts hungry when he has to poop and we know this. If I offer him food, he will latch on for a minute and then come off, head bobbing and screeching as if to say, "I came into this restaurant to use the bathroom and your Maitre d keeps shoving food into my mouth!!!" I admit, i do this often. I do it because... well, I'm Italian and we usually start by feeding our people even when they need all sorts of other remedies and comfort measures. That's our game. That's what we do... That's a little thing we like to call, "LOVE."
I've been guided by my wife to take the major evolutionary step of hearing the above "Maitre d analogy" and not conducting my own internal translation that ends up something like, "YOUR TITTIE IS SOUR... THIS MILK IS SCORTCHING MY THROAT... YOU CALL THIS LOVE?!?!?! I HATE YOU..."
But there's another reason I try to feed him first... Sometimes the sucking works. Getting food into top the part of his GI tract creates an opposite "emptying" action, and he poops.
So, back to this morning. It's time for him to eat. It's perfectly reasonable for him to be hungry, he hasn't eaten since 4am. But after a few feeding attempts, we realize that his cries are not about "emptiness," but "fullness". We know this, but we can't do anything about it...
I actually start Googling, "How to make an infant poop." All these hits come up about constipation which is definitely NOT what we are dealing with here.
In the mean time, since he is crying anyway, kt focuses her attention on trying to wrestle a hardy, crusty snot that is peering out the edge of the boy's nose. It's been beyond our grasp for days, bothering us about a million times more than it is bothering him.
And we wait... wishing we could help him feel better... having taught ourselves in the past few weeks that this type of fussing is generally associated with a discomfort we can't fix. Even at this young age, there are some things he's got to work out for himself. So we wait with him, at least hoping to show him, he is not alone.
A few minutes later, FIRE IN THE HOLE! And kt and I, from different sides of the living room, shoot all four of our arms into the air as if our team has just scored the game-sealing point(s).
---------------------------------------------
*minus the gold shoes. And though she does own one salmon colored top, her "uniform" usually contains a shirt that is less pink, and/or darker in color.
By the way, kt bought a new jacket (at my urging) and though it is black and not red, yesterday she left the house looking EXACTLY like her "wee mee" in the side bar of this blog.
---------------------------------------------
1) totally satiated
2) adequately rested
3) recently diapered
4) without any digestive discomfort what so ever.)
We've been reading the Baby Whisperer, and "paying attention to our baby" as she advises. I think you have to take all baby advice with an open mind AND a grain of salt, but I like her general perspective (My summary: Treat your baby like a person, be respectful, listen, and learn about him; but like you would for any other person in your life, set limits and be in charge of creating a relationship that you can live with down the road...) Her point of view has been helpful and reassuring. She reminds her fans that babies will cry, it's their only way to communicate... give them a minute to cry and listen to figure out what they want. In other words, don't just shove a tittie in their mouth. The more you listen, the more differentiated their cries will sound in your ears and you will learn to identify the meaning of various cries.
Back to us at yellow, suburban house: Often, he acts hungry when he has to poop and we know this. If I offer him food, he will latch on for a minute and then come off, head bobbing and screeching as if to say, "I came into this restaurant to use the bathroom and your Maitre d keeps shoving food into my mouth!!!" I admit, i do this often. I do it because... well, I'm Italian and we usually start by feeding our people even when they need all sorts of other remedies and comfort measures. That's our game. That's what we do... That's a little thing we like to call, "LOVE."
I've been guided by my wife to take the major evolutionary step of hearing the above "Maitre d analogy" and not conducting my own internal translation that ends up something like, "YOUR TITTIE IS SOUR... THIS MILK IS SCORTCHING MY THROAT... YOU CALL THIS LOVE?!?!?! I HATE YOU..."
But there's another reason I try to feed him first... Sometimes the sucking works. Getting food into top the part of his GI tract creates an opposite "emptying" action, and he poops.
So, back to this morning. It's time for him to eat. It's perfectly reasonable for him to be hungry, he hasn't eaten since 4am. But after a few feeding attempts, we realize that his cries are not about "emptiness," but "fullness". We know this, but we can't do anything about it...
I actually start Googling, "How to make an infant poop." All these hits come up about constipation which is definitely NOT what we are dealing with here.
In the mean time, since he is crying anyway, kt focuses her attention on trying to wrestle a hardy, crusty snot that is peering out the edge of the boy's nose. It's been beyond our grasp for days, bothering us about a million times more than it is bothering him.
And we wait... wishing we could help him feel better... having taught ourselves in the past few weeks that this type of fussing is generally associated with a discomfort we can't fix. Even at this young age, there are some things he's got to work out for himself. So we wait with him, at least hoping to show him, he is not alone.
A few minutes later, FIRE IN THE HOLE! And kt and I, from different sides of the living room, shoot all four of our arms into the air as if our team has just scored the game-sealing point(s).
---------------------------------------------
*minus the gold shoes. And though she does own one salmon colored top, her "uniform" usually contains a shirt that is less pink, and/or darker in color.
By the way, kt bought a new jacket (at my urging) and though it is black and not red, yesterday she left the house looking EXACTLY like her "wee mee" in the side bar of this blog.
---------------------------------------------
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Little Potatoes
Last night I got to visit with my sister and her kids for a little while and Mac was in a particularly snuggly mood, so I grabbed her up and started singing our new favorite song...
You're my little potato.
We've been singing it to JB since the grannies introduced us to it over Thanksgiving.
Afterward, for the rest of the night, Mac would say,
"TT... TT... Po-ta-to..." Until we sang it again.
You are so SWEET, Potato!
You're my little potato.
We've been singing it to JB since the grannies introduced us to it over Thanksgiving.
Afterward, for the rest of the night, Mac would say,
"TT... TT... Po-ta-to..." Until we sang it again.
You are so SWEET, Potato!
Monday, December 03, 2007
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Update: Eyelashes
There's an update to the vital statistics...
The baby grew eye lashes!!!
Seriously. One week: no lashes.
Midweek: some short lashes.
Weekend: long, luscious boy-lashes!
I think this is the beginning of puberty!
The baby grew eye lashes!!!
Seriously. One week: no lashes.
Midweek: some short lashes.
Weekend: long, luscious boy-lashes!
I think this is the beginning of puberty!
What's Babies.r.us HRC rating?
For the 2nd time in 2 months, a cashier at Babies.R.Us came out to katy in the check out line.
When I was still in the hospital awaiting discharge, kt left us for a few hours to prepare the house and buy a breast pump. There was a "who's this for" conversation (What? a skinny, white chick can't just purchase a breast pump without arousing suspicion?!?) and when kt said, "My wife is in the hospital, we just had a baby," the cashier announced, "I'M GAY TOO." I wasn't there, so I'm not sure the announcement was all in CAPS, but it struck kt as interesting. "Yeah, you are," we mumble to each other when someone makes an intuitively obvious announcement.
Today's event was a tiny bit more poignant.
Having observed the interplay between the two of us in line (I was holding JB and we were making final decisions on our purchases) I stepped out of line, saying, "I'm just going to go bundle him up over here." (It was 20 degrees today and regulating the kid's temperature has become one of my most prominent internal dialogs.) There were 2 customers ahead of us at that time, but when it was kt's turn she heard:
Cashier: Is that your kid?
k: yes
c: You and that girl? That's your kid?
k: yes
c: You're together and you had a kid together?
k: yes
c: Wow. I didn't even know that could happen. I have a girlfriend, and she's gonna think I'm crazy, but i didn't even know that could happen... you never really see it.
k: (staring. waiting. happy to know that this seems to be a positive turn of events for the cashier.)
c: Wow. you made my day.
I didn't see or hear any of the conversation. I was bent over JB, zipping him into his pooh cotton "snow suit." When kt relayed the tale to me, I was humbled. How could this poor chick be so isolated? In our "northeast," "liberal" state?!? Who is helping her adjust and feel safe as she figures everything out?
I guess I forget sometimes, how hard it was... how hard it is out there. It's the reason we are out- way out- even though most of our parties have a high het to homo ratio... It's the reason we put gay pride stickers on our family cars. It's the reason we call each other wife and not "friend" or "partner." It's the reason we try to be quiet and steady in our terminology and do not fudge the answers to questions like, "who are you buying that breast pump for?" It's the reason we encourage our family and friends to be forthright with this language and discussion even when they are talking to people they will never meet again. Some say, "There's no reason to tell 'your business' to a stranger." But straight folks "tell their business" to strangers all the time. And more importantly, people need to see and hear and understand that we are here, we exist. I'm not referring to the people that wish we didn't exist... I'm concerned with the men and women who think they are all alone. The mom who just found out her daughter is gay and is worried that means her daughter can never have children or a family. The young woman or man who has not yet seen "someone like them" out and proud in a checkout line. It's difficult sometimes for me to remember the fear and invisibility that still exists for many in our community- who may not know how to "tap into" the community.
Anyway, I'm proud that my wife celebrates National Coming Out Day, every day at BBrUs and beyond. She is changing the world, one cashier at a time...
-------------------------------------
btw- BBrUs HRC rating? Not that impressive.
------------------------------------
When I was still in the hospital awaiting discharge, kt left us for a few hours to prepare the house and buy a breast pump. There was a "who's this for" conversation (What? a skinny, white chick can't just purchase a breast pump without arousing suspicion?!?) and when kt said, "My wife is in the hospital, we just had a baby," the cashier announced, "I'M GAY TOO." I wasn't there, so I'm not sure the announcement was all in CAPS, but it struck kt as interesting. "Yeah, you are," we mumble to each other when someone makes an intuitively obvious announcement.
Today's event was a tiny bit more poignant.
Having observed the interplay between the two of us in line (I was holding JB and we were making final decisions on our purchases) I stepped out of line, saying, "I'm just going to go bundle him up over here." (It was 20 degrees today and regulating the kid's temperature has become one of my most prominent internal dialogs.) There were 2 customers ahead of us at that time, but when it was kt's turn she heard:
Cashier: Is that your kid?
k: yes
c: You and that girl? That's your kid?
k: yes
c: You're together and you had a kid together?
k: yes
c: Wow. I didn't even know that could happen. I have a girlfriend, and she's gonna think I'm crazy, but i didn't even know that could happen... you never really see it.
k: (staring. waiting. happy to know that this seems to be a positive turn of events for the cashier.)
c: Wow. you made my day.
I didn't see or hear any of the conversation. I was bent over JB, zipping him into his pooh cotton "snow suit." When kt relayed the tale to me, I was humbled. How could this poor chick be so isolated? In our "northeast," "liberal" state?!? Who is helping her adjust and feel safe as she figures everything out?
I guess I forget sometimes, how hard it was... how hard it is out there. It's the reason we are out- way out- even though most of our parties have a high het to homo ratio... It's the reason we put gay pride stickers on our family cars. It's the reason we call each other wife and not "friend" or "partner." It's the reason we try to be quiet and steady in our terminology and do not fudge the answers to questions like, "who are you buying that breast pump for?" It's the reason we encourage our family and friends to be forthright with this language and discussion even when they are talking to people they will never meet again. Some say, "There's no reason to tell 'your business' to a stranger." But straight folks "tell their business" to strangers all the time. And more importantly, people need to see and hear and understand that we are here, we exist. I'm not referring to the people that wish we didn't exist... I'm concerned with the men and women who think they are all alone. The mom who just found out her daughter is gay and is worried that means her daughter can never have children or a family. The young woman or man who has not yet seen "someone like them" out and proud in a checkout line. It's difficult sometimes for me to remember the fear and invisibility that still exists for many in our community- who may not know how to "tap into" the community.
Anyway, I'm proud that my wife celebrates National Coming Out Day, every day at BBrUs and beyond. She is changing the world, one cashier at a time...
-------------------------------------
btw- BBrUs HRC rating? Not that impressive.
------------------------------------
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Vital Stats
J-Br went to the pediatrician on Friday...
He's huge.
13 lbs 10 oz. In the 90th percentile. Up 4 lbs from his birth weight.
25.5 inches, which is off the growth chart.
I wonder if it actually hurts to grow 4 inches in 9 weeks.
(In case you are wondering, tsadb reported a ht of 6'3" and a wt of 160lbs at 23 years of age.)
Our kid is a trouper. He got 5 immunizations, 4 injections and cried very little. He has been really amazing this last week- sleeping well during the day and at night, cooing, laughing every chance he gets. He's generally well mannered and sweet. His mommies are very much in love with his spirit and temperament.
He's huge.
13 lbs 10 oz. In the 90th percentile. Up 4 lbs from his birth weight.
25.5 inches, which is off the growth chart.
I wonder if it actually hurts to grow 4 inches in 9 weeks.
(In case you are wondering, tsadb reported a ht of 6'3" and a wt of 160lbs at 23 years of age.)
Our kid is a trouper. He got 5 immunizations, 4 injections and cried very little. He has been really amazing this last week- sleeping well during the day and at night, cooing, laughing every chance he gets. He's generally well mannered and sweet. His mommies are very much in love with his spirit and temperament.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Newsletter: Month 2
Dear JB,
Today you are 2 months old.
On the first day of YOUR SECOND MONTH OF LIFE, the Red Sox won the World Series! You will never have any idea how ridiculous that is... and how thrilling. There were people that lived 85 entire years and never saw a Red Sox World Series Championship! I immediately began to worry that you have been born into a tradition of Red Sox fan-dom that I know nothing of. How can I help you learn what it is to be a true Bosox fan in a world where our team has known recent (dare I say) steady victory?!? I am still a little unsure of how to act. As a fan that has the opportunity to relish the present post season experience, instead of only having the option to "gear up" wistfully for next spring, I worry that I have to change our family's passionate cheering strategy. When I was growing up, bragging and talking smack was all about bravado, keeping hope alive, and proving allegiance in the face of regular heartbreak. In your era, the type of sassy loyalty we intended to teach you might come off as cocky and not-so-adorable. Where parents in Red Sox Nation have always had to focus on building a young fan's sense of self worth, I will have to learn to somehow infuse humility into my lessons on team devotion!
In the last 4 weeks, you officially grew out of all your newborn clothes. They say those are "up to 8lbs" but you lasted in most of them until close to 12 lbs. Isn't cotton wonderful? We go to the pediatrician tomorrow, but we know you have probably gained at least another pound since your last visit. Most of the newborn clothes you wore were some of the only clothes that we purchased for you. Because we picked out most of those newborn clothes, we really loved them and it was hard to pack them away. Incidentally, I have already organized and "cleaned out" your dresser drawers more in the last 2 months than I have cleaned out MY dresser drawers in the last 2 years... I guess that's to be expected. (Wwwwelcome to Motherhood, Mr. Baaanks.)
We spent most of your 2nd month (when we weren't just staring at you saying to each other, "isn't he just the cutest, freaking thing you've ever seen...") trying to strategize getting you to sleep more at night. We were willing in the first 4 weeks to let you get up every 1-2 hours to feed, but that started to suck as it went on into this month. (No pun intended.) We waffled and attempted to implement the advice of many: trying keep you up during the day; trying to hold off feedings as long as possible; trying to "stack" feedings, etc... We found that all attempted measures were no more successful than placebo (having no strategy at all.) Some nights you slept well. Some nights you didn't. What did we want from a 2 month old anyway? A MS Outlook calendar?!? Using a "what I don't have, I don't want anyway" approach, I decided that working toward a "schedule" is just busywork- an illusion. As your Aunt Teri attempted to comfort your mothers, she pointed out, even the clock and calendar are arbitrary measures of time.
SIDEBAR: Last night you slept soundly from 11:30 pm to 5:30 am. When I woke to your hungry whimpering and glanced at the alarm clock, I touched a hand to my chest and nearly exploded (with both pride and breast milk!)
Speaking of breast milk, you are still on the tittie. Most folks I know want to kill me for using this term. I've been told, "You're crass," "That's rude," and "That's no way to speak around a baby." I've even been told that if I write about this here, I will somehow scar you and ruin your life, but I'm sorry, I had breasts and boobs my whole life, but this- what's going on here and now... The tittie is all about breastfeeding! You are still going strong and eating well, but for the first time this month, I considered throwing in the towel. It is a lot to have these mammaries pumping out the sweet stuff around the clock. You are worth it, sure. But mommy's tired of never getting to be naked without soaking something. I don't have a solid plan (shocking) and am not sure how I'll decide when to stop. I know if we get to a year, I'm FOR SURE all done. Prior to that, teeth will likely be a barrier for this mommy. But i digress...
This month you've perfected the art of the spit up- you love to drain the sweet, white, liquid gold from my titties and puke some of it back up onto your perfectly laundered clothes. It sometimes appears that you have an aversion to clean burp cloths and (we've said this for a while now: an unsoiled diaper seems to give you diarrhea...) Our washer and drier are going for broke- at maximum capacity, several days a week, but we are so damn proud of everything you create that it seems no bother at all.
Actually, we've finally realized that you only spit up when you are pushing to go number-two too soon after eating. We only needed to have this conversation 500 times: "Honey, what's the matter? why are you so fussy? Now you're spitting up... is your tummy bothering you? Why is your face so scrunched like that? Are you getting sick? I guess some babies spit up after eating, but you didn't do this earlier. I don't know what's wrong..." pllllbbbbbbbbbb... "oh, you were pooping..." before the honest surprise in my voice wore off and I got the meaning of that communication cue.
In the middle of the month, we took a night away to see a play. It was nerve racking, but we packed you up for your first overnight with your Nana and Papa. You were well taken care of, and your mommies got about 6 hrs of uninterrupted sleep. It was so strange to be without you for that length of time. Sometimes when I am driving around and you are at home with your mama, I'll think to myself, "Wow, JB is being so good back there." Then I'll realize that you aren't in the car with me and for a split second, I almost start screaming thinking I left you at Stop.and.Shop or something. Then I remember that I appropriately arranged loving care for you and haven't lost my mind or left you behind.
Your first two major holidays: Halloween and Thanksgiving occurred this last month. I have to say, i thought it would be ridiculous and cruel to dress up a 1.15 month old. If it weren't for Greg and Julie sending a handed down costume, we wouldn't have even had one for you to wear on Halloween. At the last minute, I threw you in the purple dragon outfit and showed up at some of our peeps' houses. We played the "ring and run" game leaving you in the Boppi.pillow on Kerry and Bob's front steps. It was so fun and I'm glad we didn't miss those moments. (Thank you, G and J!) Thanksgiving we spent at home with relatives. Your Grannies and Grandpa came from Ohio. You met your Uncle Josh who came from Seattle. The next day you met your uncle Pat and cousin Eric and were reunited with your Aunts: Anne and Marilyn.
At some point in the last 4 weeks you definitely started smiling- mirroring us when we smile, locking eyes with us and grinning. Your mama has said you were "laughing" for most of this month too. I heard the noise but didn't think it was a laugh. Until last week, when I happened to be staring at you when you made "the noise..." It's kind of a screech, but I think she's been right about it all along. These last few days, you have begun um-mistakably smiling, gooing, cooing, laughing in response to our funny faces and expressions.
Things are starting to feel normal again, and we're so glad you are here.
We love you,
Your mommies
Today you are 2 months old.
On the first day of YOUR SECOND MONTH OF LIFE, the Red Sox won the World Series! You will never have any idea how ridiculous that is... and how thrilling. There were people that lived 85 entire years and never saw a Red Sox World Series Championship! I immediately began to worry that you have been born into a tradition of Red Sox fan-dom that I know nothing of. How can I help you learn what it is to be a true Bosox fan in a world where our team has known recent (dare I say) steady victory?!? I am still a little unsure of how to act. As a fan that has the opportunity to relish the present post season experience, instead of only having the option to "gear up" wistfully for next spring, I worry that I have to change our family's passionate cheering strategy. When I was growing up, bragging and talking smack was all about bravado, keeping hope alive, and proving allegiance in the face of regular heartbreak. In your era, the type of sassy loyalty we intended to teach you might come off as cocky and not-so-adorable. Where parents in Red Sox Nation have always had to focus on building a young fan's sense of self worth, I will have to learn to somehow infuse humility into my lessons on team devotion!
In the last 4 weeks, you officially grew out of all your newborn clothes. They say those are "up to 8lbs" but you lasted in most of them until close to 12 lbs. Isn't cotton wonderful? We go to the pediatrician tomorrow, but we know you have probably gained at least another pound since your last visit. Most of the newborn clothes you wore were some of the only clothes that we purchased for you. Because we picked out most of those newborn clothes, we really loved them and it was hard to pack them away. Incidentally, I have already organized and "cleaned out" your dresser drawers more in the last 2 months than I have cleaned out MY dresser drawers in the last 2 years... I guess that's to be expected. (Wwwwelcome to Motherhood, Mr. Baaanks.)
We spent most of your 2nd month (when we weren't just staring at you saying to each other, "isn't he just the cutest, freaking thing you've ever seen...") trying to strategize getting you to sleep more at night. We were willing in the first 4 weeks to let you get up every 1-2 hours to feed, but that started to suck as it went on into this month. (No pun intended.) We waffled and attempted to implement the advice of many: trying keep you up during the day; trying to hold off feedings as long as possible; trying to "stack" feedings, etc... We found that all attempted measures were no more successful than placebo (having no strategy at all.) Some nights you slept well. Some nights you didn't. What did we want from a 2 month old anyway? A MS Outlook calendar?!? Using a "what I don't have, I don't want anyway" approach, I decided that working toward a "schedule" is just busywork- an illusion. As your Aunt Teri attempted to comfort your mothers, she pointed out, even the clock and calendar are arbitrary measures of time.
SIDEBAR: Last night you slept soundly from 11:30 pm to 5:30 am. When I woke to your hungry whimpering and glanced at the alarm clock, I touched a hand to my chest and nearly exploded (with both pride and breast milk!)
Speaking of breast milk, you are still on the tittie. Most folks I know want to kill me for using this term. I've been told, "You're crass," "That's rude," and "That's no way to speak around a baby." I've even been told that if I write about this here, I will somehow scar you and ruin your life, but I'm sorry, I had breasts and boobs my whole life, but this- what's going on here and now... The tittie is all about breastfeeding! You are still going strong and eating well, but for the first time this month, I considered throwing in the towel. It is a lot to have these mammaries pumping out the sweet stuff around the clock. You are worth it, sure. But mommy's tired of never getting to be naked without soaking something. I don't have a solid plan (shocking) and am not sure how I'll decide when to stop. I know if we get to a year, I'm FOR SURE all done. Prior to that, teeth will likely be a barrier for this mommy. But i digress...
This month you've perfected the art of the spit up- you love to drain the sweet, white, liquid gold from my titties and puke some of it back up onto your perfectly laundered clothes. It sometimes appears that you have an aversion to clean burp cloths and (we've said this for a while now: an unsoiled diaper seems to give you diarrhea...) Our washer and drier are going for broke- at maximum capacity, several days a week, but we are so damn proud of everything you create that it seems no bother at all.
Actually, we've finally realized that you only spit up when you are pushing to go number-two too soon after eating. We only needed to have this conversation 500 times: "Honey, what's the matter? why are you so fussy? Now you're spitting up... is your tummy bothering you? Why is your face so scrunched like that? Are you getting sick? I guess some babies spit up after eating, but you didn't do this earlier. I don't know what's wrong..." pllllbbbbbbbbbb... "oh, you were pooping..." before the honest surprise in my voice wore off and I got the meaning of that communication cue.
In the middle of the month, we took a night away to see a play. It was nerve racking, but we packed you up for your first overnight with your Nana and Papa. You were well taken care of, and your mommies got about 6 hrs of uninterrupted sleep. It was so strange to be without you for that length of time. Sometimes when I am driving around and you are at home with your mama, I'll think to myself, "Wow, JB is being so good back there." Then I'll realize that you aren't in the car with me and for a split second, I almost start screaming thinking I left you at Stop.and.Shop or something. Then I remember that I appropriately arranged loving care for you and haven't lost my mind or left you behind.
Your first two major holidays: Halloween and Thanksgiving occurred this last month. I have to say, i thought it would be ridiculous and cruel to dress up a 1.15 month old. If it weren't for Greg and Julie sending a handed down costume, we wouldn't have even had one for you to wear on Halloween. At the last minute, I threw you in the purple dragon outfit and showed up at some of our peeps' houses. We played the "ring and run" game leaving you in the Boppi.pillow on Kerry and Bob's front steps. It was so fun and I'm glad we didn't miss those moments. (Thank you, G and J!) Thanksgiving we spent at home with relatives. Your Grannies and Grandpa came from Ohio. You met your Uncle Josh who came from Seattle. The next day you met your uncle Pat and cousin Eric and were reunited with your Aunts: Anne and Marilyn.
At some point in the last 4 weeks you definitely started smiling- mirroring us when we smile, locking eyes with us and grinning. Your mama has said you were "laughing" for most of this month too. I heard the noise but didn't think it was a laugh. Until last week, when I happened to be staring at you when you made "the noise..." It's kind of a screech, but I think she's been right about it all along. These last few days, you have begun um-mistakably smiling, gooing, cooing, laughing in response to our funny faces and expressions.
It. Is. Awesome.
Things are starting to feel normal again, and we're so glad you are here.
We love you,
Your mommies
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
At the end of the summer, I intended to blog about the contrast between my neighbor's lawn and ours. These are the pieces of life that amuse me to no end. I think we are decent neighbors and I think they are quite annoying and strange (not too egotistical of me, right?) Sometime, I'm reminded of all of the ways we must disappoint our neighbors...
One day back in late August, I looked out the window from my perch on the pot and saw this:
Take a closer look...
OUR LAWN:
THEIR LAWN:
To be fair, we had just taken down 2 large party tents after the 150 some-odd party-guests lovingly trampled our lawn during Kate-a-palooza.
I Chuckled to myself thinking, "If my lawn-obsessed, extra-car-owning neighbors have this same view, they probably hate us for destroying the perfection in nature that they work endlessly to create." Our "neglected lawn" must make their eyes bleed...
Then, life intervened and I had a baby not in OCTOBER, but in SEPTEMBER. The post never got written. Things have changed a lot in our house in the last few weeks, but for our neighbors, I guess the view is the same:
Our Yard:
Their Yard:
Why am I so thoroughly amused?
One day back in late August, I looked out the window from my perch on the pot and saw this:
Take a closer look...
OUR LAWN:
THEIR LAWN:
To be fair, we had just taken down 2 large party tents after the 150 some-odd party-guests lovingly trampled our lawn during Kate-a-palooza.
I Chuckled to myself thinking, "If my lawn-obsessed, extra-car-owning neighbors have this same view, they probably hate us for destroying the perfection in nature that they work endlessly to create." Our "neglected lawn" must make their eyes bleed...
Then, life intervened and I had a baby not in OCTOBER, but in SEPTEMBER. The post never got written. Things have changed a lot in our house in the last few weeks, but for our neighbors, I guess the view is the same:
Our Yard:
Their Yard:
Why am I so thoroughly amused?
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