Hormonal Hodge Podge

I wrote a post, but husband said it was sad. It wasn't sad. It was honest. But I don't want to give the wrong depressed impression. I'm not. I'm hormonal. There's a difference. And yes, even you can chart my cycles based on my blog. I do this so people never, ever, EVER make the mistake of asking me if I'm pregnant. I'm not. I'm bloated. There's a difference.

The alternative is to share a tidbit (only slightly more than a morsel) on what I could have written instead. Only a tidbit though so I have enough time to watch Charly, or Steel Magnolias, or some other tear jerking cinematic masterpiece that makes me cry each and every time I see it.

Breed Responsibly- My rant on how/why/WTH!!!! is a woman with six children thinking about doing fertility treatments.

LYS- That's yarny talk for Local Yarn Shop. I did my Christmas shopping today. LOTS and LOTS and LOTS of yarn. Yarn is yummy.

I'm Used to It- I hear all day every day how my life is over as soon as Scrunch can walk. Well, I'm used to it. See here. Ani and Scrunch in my purse. Ani loves gum. Ani loves chapstick. Scrunch has nothing on the things Ani has gotten into.


Bite ME!- I have no idea what I would have written here but I'm in one of those moods where I most definitely could have come up with something.

Where is my husband and my Dr. Pepper? My movie is about to start...

I Walk

Only my child would pick the ONLY time her mother would not have the camera to take her first series of steps. Sunday School. Just figures. I don't think I'll go again. kidding.

And while most of the time she still walks around on her knees, if you're holding a cookie she'll walk on two feet. Funny. Me too.

I am the most exiciting person you know. Admit it.

Today I Google-d "how to knit while reading." And I got results!

It's About Love

Don't believe me? Take it from someone who KNOWS.


Spread it.

Link it.

Love it.

It's just that kind of weepy week around here.

What we've all been waiting for.

Miss Alena Lauren

January 25, 2009
6 lbs. 5 oz.
19 in.

Welcome to the world little one!

Ask your Daddy for a pony. We need a friend who has a pony.

In almost exactly one year to the day, we've all become mommies. Congratulations Ang! We love you. You are one tough chick.

I'm One!

Celebrate Birth-days

In one of the 'Raising Adopted Children' books I've read along the way, I remember reading something about children and their birthdays. It talked about how it would not be unusual for a child to become moody or upset on their birthday because Birthday's bring up the subject of their birth. This might be upsetting or uncomfortable for some children.

I can see that.

But I hope that it's not like that for our daughter.

On her birthday we celebrate!

We don't just get to celebrate the passing of another year and reaching of milestones throughout her life, but we celebrate her birth. In doing so, we celebrate her Birth-mother. We think of her. We remember her. We are ever-grateful for her. And we celebrate her. Celebrate the choice that she made and celebrate our greatest Birth-day present ever.

The day she was born was the greatest thing that has ever happened to us. That is cause for celebration.

Happy Birthday Scrunch! You are a gift.

Promised Party Pics

Paper Place mats


Pom Pom details


Platter


Pretzels


All things Purple. Even the cake.


Polly The Still-shirtless Dolly. Hope that name doesn't stick. Her sweater is still on the needles.


Pom-pom fringe.

Purple, Party, and Pizza. What more does a one year old Purple-loving Princess need? OK, Mom loves purple. But by-golly she better like it too!

P.S. She and her new BFF might share the same birthday!!!!

Tongue twister.

Due to Precipitation and Poor Planning,

Purple Princess' Party in the Park is now a Pizza Party.

Say that five times fast.

Pictures Pronto. Promise.

Dinner at our house.

For the record... I am not entirely devoid of cooking skills. In fact if it has butter or garlic (it must have both) I can handle it. Or butter and brown sugar. Scrunch is in total awe of my cooking prowess. And that I cook things especially fun for her to play with. It will be a sad, sad day when she is forced to discover that she is not the center of this world's axis. For now, me lives to serve.

If you like it, at our house you put in your hair. Well, she puts in her hair and then I haul her away to the tub, but on the way I forget why we're going there in the first place and she slimes it in my hair. By the time we make it to the tub I have called for husband to bring the camera and we all end up soaking wet and covered in sweet potato.

Strike one.

These should be used as hockey pucks.


In an unusually Obama-esque move, I think I'll organize something in my community and organize a Jr. Hockey league for underprivileged youth. I'll bake their hockey pucks.

On the bright side, Scrunch says "yum" to them. Not that that is an endorsement. She says the same thing to dog food.

I want a brownie badge AND a chest to pin it on.

I've spent the last hour and half planning menus and researching recipes. And I want credit. So yeah! I want a Brownie badge, AND a chest to pin it on.

But I'll also take a good brownie recipe if you got it.

Wednesday- Park Day, Library day
Red Potato Soup
Bake muffins

Thursday- Crafting day (Think felt food.)
B- Muffins
L- Chicken Nuggets
D- Pork Chops and Sweet Potatoes

Friday-
B-Yogurt and rest of muffins
L- Cucumber Sandwiches
D- Gyoza, Rice, Edamame

Saturday
B- Tortilla Egg Bake
L- Left overs
D- Asian Chicken Wraps with Steamed Snap Peas, Pineapple
soak beans
make Chimichangas to freeze

Sunday
B-Oatmeal
L-Left overs
D- Quesadillas with Corn and Black Bean Salsa, rest of Pineapple
bake Birthday cake and cupcakes
Crockpot applesauce

Presidents of the United States of America

Loved them in Junior High, Love them today!

Check it out here.

Good luck and congratulations President Obama!

Thank you Dr. King

He might be most known for 'having a dream', but he also said some other really great things.

Some of my favorite's...

"Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity."

"The hottest place in Hell is reserved for those who remain neutral in times of great moral conflict."

"We must use time creatively."

"The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character - that is the goal of true education."

- Martin Luther King, Jr.

Happy Monday off!

I knit, therefore I 'om'.

Come on. That was punny.

Listen, I've had a rough weekend. Turns out my work laptop hates working the weekend more than I do, so decided not to show AT ALL. Which means I get to re-live every charming experience twice. Once on paper and then again when my laptop is replaced and I RE-transcribe everything. EVERYTHING. Double documentation! Just what I always didn't want.

So, I AM going to cast on this bag. It's a yoga mat bag. What a nerd. what a nerd.

Is it coincidence that I would begin such a relaxing, mind focusing practice before all holy hell would wreak havoc on my Thinkpad? There are no coincidences. Therefore, I 'om'.

Ugh.

We're still here.
I am working.
She is teething. This time more molars. Catch that? More.
Completely heartbreaking.

I feel the same way about teething as I do about women's monthly cycles. Can't we have just have it all out at the same time? For cryin in the night!

The human body IS kinda cool, AND a gift (I guess), but there's no convincing me of that this weekend. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say I had to get up close and personal with a three hundred pound bedridden woman while her son stood at the end of the bed holding the flashlight. I can't wait until my sister is a vet so I can borrow those gloves that reach up to your elbows. I get the heebe-jebbies just thinking about it.

On top of teething, all I've got to say is FOR CRYIN' IN THE FREAKEN NIGHT!!!!!

Gimme a Sign

A couple years back we were driving through this area and we said, "we should live here when we grow up." We were still students at the time and "when we grow up" seemed like a long way off. We still had two years and an internship to sort out.

And then there was an internship here. So he applied and he got it. Then we graduated which I guess means we were more grown up. I guess. He applied for a job here and he got it.

There was never the sit down and "let's pray about it" discussion. Things just worked out and I took it as a sign.

As we (mostly I) go back and forth about whether or not we plan on staying here and really growing up by buying a house, I've been torn. I was split between buying the new tract home complete with new floors, new windows, upgrades, new schools- the works, and the more modest home out in the country where we could raise chickens, and alpacas??? (but at least bunnies and a pot-belly pig???), and spin yarn, and long walks to the bus stop- still the works, but different works. I was leaning towards shiny and new, but I needed a sign.

I dragged a friend, and her darling baby along to walk through the models.

We completely pass the turn offs and end up a half hour past where we should be. They took ALL the signs down. Sign number one.

We arrive at the first set of models. They are closed. Sign number two.

No matter. My favorite and first pick is just around the corner. We'll walk through those. Um...They are tearing the models apart from the inside out. Sign number three.

BOTH babies scream, SCREAM all the way home.

Oh, for the love!

I get it. I get it. No shiny new house for me.

Thank you cards.

Craft projects like this rank way high up on the list of reasons to have kids.


These are our new thank you cards. Slap this baby on a blank card and "walah!" Totally not my idea. If you get one in the mail, pretend you haven't seen them before.

And meet "Bananas". He is the newest permanent fixture around our home. He is also Scrunch's best friend. Watching her crawl around saying "ooooh,oooh" like a monkey when she's looking for him and watching her give him "loves" is also in the running for highest ranking reason. But nothing beats being the recipient of a specially-made hand-blown Scrunch kiss. That is by far the best reason to date to have kids.

My body has been taken over by domestic aliens.

Nothing else could explain it. It's got to be aliens. Or I'm really a cylon.

I made homemade chicken noodle soup last night. And cinnamon rolls to bake this morning. As I popped them in the oven I went for a run. A run!?!?! Now does that sound like me?

The only explanation is aliens.

I'm only a little frightened of what could be coming next. gulp. Bread? shining my sink? uh, oh. did that too. Who are these little buggers and what do they want from me?

Husband is being super nice to me, well the aliens. He's trying to coax them in to staying. I knew it! It is aliens.

Sweat

This is my new mantra. Hydration in moderation. And NOT an hour before I go to bed.

In preparation for my new exercise endeavor I needed to hydrate a lot and quickly. I didn't remember until last night about ten thirty which left me only seven hours before practice and sixty four ounces left to go. I went alright. and went. and went. ALL night long. I HATE to pee. Honest. HATE it. It is such a waste of time. But to wake up all night long to pee irks. Hate it even more.

I have found my happy place. Not in a Cosmo 'how-to' article sort of way, but in a now-I-get-why-people-exercise kind of way. Finally something that works for me. Getting up at 0445 is not my favorite, but it is compensated with one of the best work outs of my entire life and complete and total relaxation. For an hour an half I didn't think about anything. Nothing. Except 'no wonder they call it Hot yoga'. It's hot. Really hot. And it would make even a pig sweat.

So, it is now Monday morning still two hours before noon and I have learned two things. 1) What goes in must come out and 2) Hot yoga is hot. I'm feeling pretty good about things.

In the Trenches

Having worked in geriatrics since, well... since I've ever had a job- I've been lucky enough to meet a veteran of every major world war in the last century. I've been able to hear their stories, share their experiences. It is a special and touching thing to watch as "war buddies" get together to laugh, joke, reminisce, and mourn like no time has passed at all. There is a special bond that forms when 'in the trenches'. Life and death, love and loss when shared with another human being forms a bond that is untouched no matter what further life's circumstances bring and how much time has passed.

The experiences that we've shared over the last year and a half have made these girls my war buddies. Life and death, love and loss have been shared. Matched by tears, giggling, late nights, and lunch dates. Today signified a landmark victory in the battle of infertility with the celebrating of Angela's baby shower. It was emotional for all of us. And as we sat there during the "after party" we laughed and joked about our stories and what we've all been through I thought of all my friends and patients and their war buddies. And I thought about my war buddies. No matter what further life's circumstances bring and how much time passes, there is still no one I would have rather been in the trenches with.

How do you measure success?

It used to be (like last week) that if I blogged every day, I felt like I succeeded in getting something done that day. I am no longer measuring success by that. These days success is measured by little triumphs that will mostly go un-blogged about.

This week's successes:

1. Keeping Ani off the couch five days running.


2. 3 consecutive days of showering/hair/makeup BEFORE Scrunch wakes up.
3. Keeping TWO kids alive for more than an hour. I had the great honor and privilege of watching THE Grady this week. I was happy to discover that two kids is not twice the work. It's more like 1.25-1.5 times the work. You already know how to fold up the stroller and what's one more bottle to mix?
4. Baby Shower coming along nicely.
5. First time on a bike and no tears.


6. Actually enjoyed talking to a few of the other mom's at Park Days.
7. Joining a yoga studio.
8. Shined my sink every day
9. Sewed 20 dishtowel aprons with Scrunch on my lap and no one lost a finger.

and for #10 I'm hoping that today I will finally find something to wear to THE baby shower this Saturday. Stay tuned for proof that I don't hate (all) pregnant people.

Captionless

The Great Debate

Quality vs. Quantity

And yet my compulsiveness drives me to write something- anything. You don't want my namby-pamby excuses for my recent lameness so I'm not going to give them to you.

So there.

Nurses Call the Shots

I wanted to be a pediatric nurse. Then I realized much of my time would be spent dealing with the parents.

I wanted to be a labor and delivery nurse. Then I realized my time would be spent dealing with women in labor.

While my nursing experience has not been in either of these two fields, I did go to nursing school and have been working for five years. I have had several experiences in both those areas, especially with women in labor. Don't ask me why. Wrong place wrong time? I may not have ever given birth, but I probably have more objective experience than a woman with six children. Your labor story is not objective. Sorry. It might be a good one, but it's anything but objective.

I have on some level been involved in and witnessed two late term miscarriages at 24 weeks, one of which I held the baby for the young woman so she could see the gender of the baby. I opted to step out of a D and C of twins when I found out I knew the woman in the OR. A c-section. Several vaginal births (because I can translate). An un-medicated hospital vaginal birth where the nurse's aide said "Put your hand here and don't let her push too fast. I'll be right back." The doc showed up after the fact to take the credit. A homebirth. And watched the birth of our daughter.

I have watched an epidural be placed. Checked cervical dilation. I am even aware how/when things can go terribly wrong. During my newborn rotation we took care of a newborn whose mother hemorrhaged and bled out. I worked all of high school with special needs children in the school district. I even had a sister who died prematurely at six hours old and remember going to her funeral.

I am no expert. I am not an OB. I am not a midwife. And I have never done this before. But I am not completely naive.

With all of that, now, when it comes time for us to deliver, we have chosen a homebirth. This was a choice we made early on and at halfway through my pregnancy, is one we continue to feel comfortable with.

For some reason when some people find out about our choice we are told every horror story they can come up with to somehow scare me into making a different choice. They must not get that I don't scare so easy. And I just get ticked when I'm punked.

I get that this is not every one's choice. I get that some people don't get it. I get that you might not get it. I get that it scares you. I get that this does not work in every situation- nor should it. I don't think this is a choice every woman and her partner (hopefully husband) should make. And I get that this is not a choice every woman will get to make.

But this is OUR choice. So to somehow insinuate that I may have made a mis-informed decision, or we don't know what we're talking about, or that I would do ANYthing to compromise the health and well-being of ANY child, much less MY child is just going to get on my nerves.

Keep in mind one simple rule-Don't get on the nurse's nerves. If I have any control over karma I may be the nurse that puts in (or worse) takes out your catheter. Something which I can do with my eyes closed, but you wouldn't want me to do that.

Now, if you'd like to debate about something- Boy or girl? We find out later today.

An almost Vlog.

I video taped my New Year's resolutions for you for my very first vlog. It didn't work. I still can't get it to work- THREE DAYS later!

This only partly contributes to what I hope is not a chronic bad mood. Is it just me, or am I lacking a healthy happy dose of 'ring in the New Year'? 2008 was good to us. 2009 so far is kicking my butt.

Since my vlog didn't work, but I will not give up hope that it might...I made up some New New Year's Resolutions just in case.

1. No more dogs on the couch. Seriously, Ani. OFF!
2. I might want to consider exercising a fraction of the time that I spend crafting or blogging. My butt- and heart, would thank me.
3. I'm going to burn candles more often. Never been a candle lover, but I got one for Christmas and I'm really liking my house smelling like baking without the effort of actually baking.

That's enough. I don't want to over-exert myself and all sitting here typing and NOT exercising.

A few more ways to spell frustration.

B-U-D-G-E-T

H-O-M-E-M-A-K-I-N-G

S-L-E-E-P-L-E-S-S-N-E-S-S

T-E-E-T-H-I-N-G

P-M-S

How do you spell 'frustration'?

C-O-M-P-U-T-E-R-S