Creatively Crazy

The Boy I Love

2011-12-27T21:33:00.000-06:00

Here are a few photos of Teddy... standing strong, cruising more and more and learning to walk with his walker. The boy is a trooper. I'm so glad he is mine -- I'm so in love with the little rascal.

Us Lately

2011-12-13T13:53:00.000-06:00

I know I haven't blogged in ages. My apologies. I've been busy! Here's a little mish-mash of photos of late...

Here's Eric and me. In early November, we celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary.

Here's Teddy, sweetest baby boy ever. The kid melts my heart a zillion times a day. For real.

He's recently learned to pull himself up from kneeling to standing, which is huge for him!!! Here he is trying to help unload the dishwasher.

The boy LOVES to eat. He's still a bit small for his age (21 lbs., 13 oz. at his last doctor's visit), but the pediatrician says a lower weight is normal for kids who are a little developmentally behind.

And Miss Greta. So independent. Loves all things Dora, including the shirt she is wearing in this picture. The same shirt you might have heard me mention -- the one that gets dragged from the dirty laundry over and over again. She wants to wear it dirty. One time, she wore it three days in a row. Yes, I know, we're gross.

We had a great Thanksgiving, spent with family and lots of delicious food. Teddy wasn't into his get-up, and that's fine. I only dress him like this because one day he won't let me .

Here's our Christmas tree. We get a live one each year, and I love it!

Miss Greta, making the Joseph and Mary Little People kiss. I don't know who teaches her this crap.

Did I mention he likes to eat?

Teddy is doing physical therapy 2-3 times a week, and he's learning to crawl. So far, he's mastered slithering on the floor. It's pretty cute, even if it's not what the PTs want him to do. Lately he's started getting up on all fours. We're elated with his progress!

Meanwhile, he loves loves loves the computer.

They love each other.

but maybe not so much with the matching jammies!?

Greta had her first pre-k Christmas concert. She was an angel. Oh, the irony! Ha!

Christmas brings out other props, too, like the Santa hat.

We got together with friends and made gingerbread houses. Mommy did most of the decorating while Greta taste-tested the candies.

I hope to write more soon. Hope anyone reading this is having a low-key holiday!

xoxo

Greta - October 2011

2011-10-12T12:10:00.001-05:00

Teddy - October 2011

2011-10-12T12:10:00.000-05:00

Teddy's First Haircut

2011-09-20T15:26:00.000-05:00

Teddy had his first haircut this past weekend. He was overdue, as shown in this first photo where he looks like he's growing a mullet. You can tell by the second photo that he didn't enjoy it much. I just sat there and prayed he didn't get poked in the eye by those sharp sheers. (He did not.)

Before

During

After

And back to his happy little self!

The Heart of Life

2011-09-05T16:17:00.000-05:00

Today marks one year since we first met with Teddy's neurologist and received news that his illness may be fatal.

Those words -- THAT word, the F word -- it's a hard one to type, even 365 days later. At the time, the neurologist was unsure of Teddy's diagnosis. It could have been a life-threatening genetic disease or a bad virus. Even though we now know that his illness was an enterovirus that caused the encephalitis.

The day of finding out that the results of our son's brain MRI contained massive white matter. I type that and can't even come up with a comprehensive sentence because I can't get past the prepositional part of it. I guess the verb is that it was the scariest moment of our lives, one I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, one where I'm glad I married my best friend and had him right at my side to get through the terror.

That moment that led up to many more moments of waiting has bruised my heart forever, I must admit. That bruise, though, is also surrounded by a toughness that I never knew was there. I wish I could say it was all me, that me, myself and I am just some super strong force that can't be reckoned with, but that's a lie. The truth is, there's a circle of people, friends and family and even complete strangers, who prayed and prayed for our son's well being. Countless thoughts and prayers later, here we are at a year. Teddy is alive and well. Thank you, God.

This past weekend we celebrated Teddy's life with friends and family. It was a party to wish him a happy birthday, but it was also our way of saying thank you to all those dear to us who reached out and got us through the darkest hours.

There's a song that I sang to Teddy while he was in the hospital. It's not ever played on mainstream radio so many may not know it. It's John Mayer's Heart of Life. I've copied the song's lyrics below. It says exactly so many things that I thought and felt and still think and feel. Pain threw our hearts to the ground, and it hasn't all gone away even though it should. Bad news never did have good timing, no; but Eric and I have a circle of friends who've defended the silver lining. For them, I am forever grateful. There are no words for me to ever adequately thank each person, but I hope you can hear it in the sincerity of my voice and the lingering embrace of my hug. Only life is good. And THAT is because of our circle of friends and family.

So, tonight, when I say bedtime prayers, my first and foremost will be for Teddy's health, closely followed by thanksgiving for all of you.

I hate to see you cry
Laying there in that position
There's things you need to hear
So turn off your tears and listen

Pain throws you heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won't all go the way, it should
But I know the heart of life is good

You know it's nothing new
Bad news never had good timing
But then the circle of your firends
Will defend the silver lining

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won't all go the way, it should
But I know the heart of life is good

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
Fear is a friend who's misunderstood
But I know the heart of life is good

I know it's good.

All Is Well

2011-08-23T08:56:00.000-05:00

Teddy met with his pediatrician for his one-year checkup yesterday. He measures 30 inches long and 20 pounds, 14 ounces in weight. The nystagmus in his eyes has tamed down, and his ears look great. To hear that your child is growing adequately is music to any parent's ears, yes. But in our situation, where I worry nonstop whether he is growing or developing -- well, I used all my will to not fist bump the nurse.

For those who do not know, Teddy is developmentally behind. This is a result of a bad viral infection that went to his brain and caused brain injury when he was just two weeks old. When Teddy was so sick at that time, he suffered from seizures and was placed on anti-seizure medication. That medication made him very lethargic and groggy for the first six+ months of his life. The medication, in addition to the effect the injury had on his brain, has slowed him down just a bit.

But the good news is this -- despite any hurdles he's encountered, there have never been setbacks. He continues to move forward and learn and do what babies are supposed to do.

At the end of the appointment, Eric asked the doctor, "Can you answer one thing for my wife, to help settle her nerves? Is he going to be okay?"

And -- without hesitation -- the doctor said he believes Teddy will be just fine. Sure, he admitted that progress will be slow. So I asked if he'd walk and go to kindergarten, in which the doctor replied that he believed he would.

This past year has been a year of slow, and although there are times I don't know how much more I can handle, I know that I can and that I will continue to handle whatever comes our way. I owe it to my little guy. I can handle slow for him. I can handle slow knowing that the doctor thinks that in time, he's going to be just fine.

Happy 1st Birthday, Teddy!

2011-08-22T08:34:00.001-05:00

Teddy turned one this past weekend. We celebrated small and are saving the big celebration for Labor Day weekend when all my sisters can be here. Here he is devouring his smash cake. He might be small, but the boy loves his food!

Greta's a Preschooler

2011-08-17T13:12:00.000-05:00

Today was Greta's first day of pre-k. She goes every week day for half a day. Other than me taking photos outside sans bra or combed hair, the whole thing was rather uneventful. Still, for scrapbooking purposes (!!!) I HAD to take photos!

What I Wake Up to In the Morning

2011-08-17T13:09:00.001-05:00

This face. How could you not resist being at least somewhat happy in the morning if this is what you saw first thing?! Teddy usually sleeps until about 7:30, but on the days that he gets up earlier, he just lays in bed chattering to himself until we come to get him. He's the easiest baby ever, bless his little heart. And when we go in to get him, he just lights up like its been ages since he last saw us. It's absolutely precious, I must say.

For Sale: 11 Bum Genius Cloth Diapers

2011-08-08T14:39:00.000-05:00

Hello, August

2011-08-02T15:23:00.001-05:00

August is a big month for us. It marks a year since Teddy arrived into this crazy world, and it's the month in which Greta begins preschool. Real school. Like not mom's day out or play at the YMCA and jump and tumble. I'm talking with a pre-K curriculum and stuff. I'm talking I just bought a big girl back pack from Pottery Barn Kids, and the little miss will soon be toting it to and from her five-days-a-week preschool program.

I'm talking lots of big girl steps for Miss Greta, as she works on potty training and keeping big girl undies dry. Just this last month, we decided to push the envelope, so to speak, and work on getting her potty trained. We felt a little (okay, A LOT) of pressure because one of preschool's requirements is to be potty trained.) Greta has gotten the hang of things pretty fast. She tells us when she has to go and does a pretty good job at staying dry with the exception of nap time and night time, when she wears a Pull-Up.

Greta talks big-girl talk, too, telling me that such-and-such is her favorite thing or she really likes this or that. She has an opinoin about everything, and while nothing much has changed with the basic concept of that, what HAS changed is that she is now able to convey what her opinion is, and sometimes, well, sometimes that's not pretty. She thoroughly enjoys climbing on things like the kitchen table and other household furniture, and she gets a kick out of screaming random things at the top of her lungs.

Later this month, Teddy turns one year old. I always say, if you want to fast forward your life, have a kid, and this one has been no exception. I can't believe that a year ago, I was freaking out about what to do with a little baby boy, how I was going to juggle motherhood of two, could I, would I survive? And I have.

It's been the roughest year of my life, but it's been the most rewarding, too. Sure, with all the physical and occupational therapies and other miscellaneous appointments my social calendar is busier than ever, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. The little man lights up my life with his big six-toothed grin. And he's now doing tricks. Like he sits up for short periods of time, and he slithers on the floor to get to things. And just recently, he learned to clap, and he has also learned to hold his own bottle. He's behind, yes, but he's right on target in my heart.

Toddler Girl

2011-05-03T14:46:00.000-05:00

Here's Greta. Learning to play soccer. This is what we do on our Saturdays as of late. Well, I should technically say what Daddy and Greta do while Mama catches her breath with some free time apart from TODDLER girl.

Speaking of Toddler Girl. Oh man, oh my. She's a thousand miles a minute, and some times I have a hard time keeping up. She talks in complete sentences and carries complete conversations. She knows what she wants and what she does not. She'll be three years old in just two short months, and I'm just now working on filling out her baby book. This task has magnified the fact that time has flown. It's also made clear that there's so much I can't remember -- like who starred in what popular movies of the time and what were the world's most influential political and religious leaders of the time. I can't remember details, but I still remember moments. And right now, I'm trying to hold tightest to the Greta Girl moments and, as to not lose my sanity and affinity for my baby girl, I'm trying my best to kick aside many of the Toddler Girl moments.

April Scrap

2011-04-05T13:59:00.001-05:00

What Sweetness Looks Like

2011-02-26T07:23:00.002-06:00

Love

2011-02-25T08:55:00.001-06:00

I think they like each other.

Greta Laine (2.5)

2011-01-11T06:24:00.001-06:00

This is what two and a half looks like.

Decked out in Mizzou gear, because she LOVES LOVES LOVES her Tigers and can't get enough of screaming "Z-O-U" as soon as she sees black & gold or any sort of Mizzou logo.

Hair in a half-pony tail because it's not quite long enough for a full one. She's pretty indecisive with the hair; as soon as she requests a "pony" and you put one in, she quickly decides she doesn't want one and proceeds to rip it out, along with a handful of baby-fine hair. Arghh.

Hands donned with recent Christmas gifts of hammer, saw and screwdriver (what, yor little girl didn't want a workbench with tools?!). Beware that she tries to use her tools to "fix" you.

A bloody lip from the night before when she was throwing a tantrum because she didn't want to eat dinner, and she wanted to run around the house with forks and knives. (Seriously). She worked herself into such a tizzy that she hit her own lip and busted it. The girl is DRAMA.

And two butterfly wings because she insists on it, and anyone who knows Greta or a toddler of the same age knows full well that you just don't argue with some things, lest you want the entire world to crumble that very moment. So, she wanted to wear both sets of butterfly wings, and I've learned that you pick your battles when it comes to dealing with power struggles between me and a two and a half year old.

She keeps us busy, that's for sure. But, like one of my friends said, "you don't want a 'duh kid,' do you?" And she's right. I don't want a "duh kid." I love that Miss G is a little pistol full of personality and spunk, and I love that for as sassy and snotty she sometimes is, she mirrors it with sweetness, cuteness and clever antics that win me over every time.

Scrappy Stuff of Late

2011-01-10T13:03:00.001-06:00

Here's a hodge podge of some layouts I've recently made. Some are with newer photos, and then there's even some back from Greta baby days. I've quit scrapbooking in chronological order (after taking last year's Library of Memories class), and it feels so great to not feel the pressure to stay caught up. Although, I must admit, I am trying my best to scrapbook Teddy's first year in depth as much as I did Greta's. Trying, being the operative word. ;-)

Feeling Guilty

2011-01-02T11:38:00.000-06:00

Greta is terrified of the vacuum. So, to get some time away, I'm upstairs vacuuming, knowing full well that she'll steer clear. Which means I get a break from the busy bee -- and some very clean carpets.

The Difference of A Year

2010-12-31T17:47:00.005-06:00

It's funny. I'm still wearing the same size pants, and my hair is the same color and length. I've added no new words to my vocabulary and haven't learned a single new skill (unless you count wrangling a toddler AND a newborn). My attitude hasn't deviated much.

Unlike HERS which has gone from complete sweetness to a mixture of sugary, spicy sassiness. She's grown. She's no longer a baby. She was in a size 12-18 months at the start of the year, and she's now wearing a size 3T. Her hair has grown from the uneven baby 'do to a cute bob that can be worn in pigtails. Her vocabulary is in turbo-charge mode. She speaks complete thoughts and sentences, and she's continusouly amazing us with what a littler PERSON she's developing into.

...

The biggest change? She's now a big sister!

...

And this little peanut... At the start of the year, we didn't even know about him yet! Each month he grew bigger, and in late August, he entered this world, and our lives were forever changed. He's now 4 months-old and quickly approaching 14 pounds. He coos and smiles and laughs and melts my heart a gazillion times a day. He's absolutely perfect. If, on last New Year's Eve, you would have told me I'd have a son the following year, I would have laughed. I never imagined this, I never could have. But now, I can't imagine it any other way. What a difference a year makes. Indeed.

Merry Christmas from Heaven

2010-12-24T23:53:00.001-06:00

This year marks the 11th Christmas without my dad. The holidays have gotten easier each year since he's passed, but those first several years were hard.

On this Christmas Eve, I'm thinking of him especially, wondering what it would be like if he was here. I'd like to think that he would have had a full-grown gray beard like he always had this time of year (the better to shield his face from the brutal bone-chilling winds of duck hunting season), and I'm sure he would have lost a bit more of his hair and could have been balding on the top (more so than 10 years ago!).

I'm quite positive that Miss Greta would surely give him a run for his money and wear him out with her constant playfulness, just enough so he'd get cozy on the couch and fall asleep while snuggling with his grandson Teddy. He'd be snoring so loudly that he'd often wake himself up, just like he did every other Christmas Eve.

Sometimes it's those simple little things you miss the most.

...

When my dad died, our neighbors gave us a poem, and each year, I display it on my mantle. Here's how it goes:

Merry Christmas from Heaven
By: John Mooney, Jr.

I still hear the songs

I still see the lights

I still feel your love

On cold winter nights

I still share your hopes

and all of your cares

I'll even remind you

to please say your prayers

I just want to tell you

you still make me proud

You stand head and shoulders

above all the crowd

Keep trying each moment

to stay in his grace

I come here before you

to help set your place

You dont have to be

perfect all the time

he forgives you the slip

if you continue to climb

To my family and friends

please be thankful today

I'm still close beside you

in a new special way

I love you all dearly

now don't shed a tear

cause i'm spending my

Christmas with Jesus this year.

...

Just several months ago, we lost a sweet friend, Molly McBride. On this Christmas Eve I reminisce about my dad, but I also can't help but think of Molly and of her little girls, her family and dear friends. And I hate that here are no words that will ever comfort or explain or define -- there's no poem that will ever mend their hurting hearts. I pray for them, that they can find strength to get through. Unfortunately, it's so easier said than done.

Ho Ho Ho

2010-12-18T15:04:00.002-06:00

Last week we went to visit Santa.
Greta was skeptical. Teddy was indifferent.

Considering last year's experience with Santa Claus,
I'd call this year's a success.

One day, I'll blog again. Maybe.

It's been an emotional past few months,

and, truth be told, when I do have spare time,

and that is far from frequent,

I'd rather catch a quick catnap instead of write.

Lately, I've felt like I've had a lot to say.

So maybe I'll write soon.

If not, and even if so, Merry Christmas.

Hug your loved ones extra tight this year.

I will.

Something Recent

2010-11-24T12:46:00.001-06:00

Since becoming pregnant (almost a year ago), I haven't had much interest in scrapbooking. Well, let me rephrase that -- it's not that I'm completely uninterested while pregnant; it's moreso that I'm not in the mood to tote around my scrappy stuff while cranky, hormonal and ever-growing. I just don't feel very creative when pregnant.

The other night, I mustered up the courage to produce something for submission for consideration as a design team member. Here's one of the layouts I came up with. It's nothing fancy, but I wanted to do something simple and quick.

I've got so many photos of this little guy, so I'm really hoping I get back in the creative groove soon so that I can start telling his story while it's still fresh in my mind.

Baby Smiles

2010-11-01T21:42:00.000-05:00

Teddy.
Laughs and coos.
Melts my heart.

Life with Two

2010-10-24T18:09:00.000-05:00

Waiting

2010-09-13T23:13:00.000-05:00

Teddy had his follow-up MRI today.

We hope to meet with the neurologist in the morning

to discuss where to go from here.

I've never been a patient person.

Like most people in our culture,

I want things NOW. Instant gratification. Bam.

This experience is teaching me the importance of patience.

Like it or not.

I'm trying to learn to embrace the quiet moments of waiting

where there's nothing else to do but try your best to trust.

I'm trying.

The Progression of A Day

2010-09-07T17:35:00.001-05:00

Earlier this afternoon, Teddy had an EEG test.

The EEG measures brain activity

to see if Teddy's having seizures.

Lots of wires involved, so it might look scary, but it's not as bad as it looks.

With only ten minutes of the test remaining,

Teddy decided to pull out his ventilator tube.

ON HIS OWN.

And he breathed on his own and did fine.

But just to be safe, they put him on a CPAP machine.

He wasn't quite sure what to think of having a binky in his mouth,

especially after having a tube in his mouth and down his throat.

It was so good to see his cute little mouth again!

Lab results showed that his blood oxygen levels are good.

So they stopped the CPAP machine altogether.

And now he is breathing on his own

with just a little supplemental oxygen.

We are elated.

And by the looks of it,

so is he.

Holding Tight

2010-09-06T09:00:00.000-05:00

"For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper, not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. " Jeremiah 29:11

Sick Baby Boy

2010-09-04T01:04:00.001-05:00

Late last night Teddy started to show signs that he didn't feel well. He refused to nurse, and he wimpered while he slept. When awake, he arched his back, furrowed his brow and grimaced in pain. In the early morning, after 3-4 missed feedings and inconsolable fussiness, I decided to call the pediatrician to get an appointment first thing. Our doctor sent us to the emergency room for tests and monitoring. Blood work and x-rays were ran, and Teddy had a lumbar puncture. The initial results of the lumbar puncture were inconclusive, and we're currently waiting for the results, which should come back in 48 hours.

While in the ER, Teddy also began to have issues breathing. This complication, in addition to his other symptoms, caused concern, and the next thing we knew, Teddy was being admitted to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit @ St. John's, where he's being closely monitored.

Right now, doctors think it's some sort of viral infection. Until a more definite diagnosis can be made, Teddy is receiving multiple antibiotics to fight off whatever he has. Teddy is also currently receiving breathing support from a ventilator and feeds through a feeding tube. The goal is for these machines to do all the work so that Teddy's little body can just do what it needs to do to get better.

Since being intubated, Teddy's been resting more comfortably. No more of the crying out in pain for now.

Thank you to everyone for all your thoughts and prayers.

Just the Other Day

2010-09-03T20:21:00.001-05:00

Sleep

2010-08-31T07:24:00.000-05:00

What we've been doing lately...

Meeting My Son

2010-08-22T19:37:00.001-05:00

Here he is.

The newest addition to our little family.

He's sweet.

His name is Theodor August.

We call him Teddy.

He was born on Friday, August 20, 2010.

He weighed 6 pounds and 7 ounces,

and he is 19.5 inches long.

I think he's perfect.

I wonder.

2010-08-15T22:41:00.002-05:00

I'm having a baby this week.
This week!

I've got a scheduled c-section.
I know the date, I know the time.
I know the obvious, like
the hospital and the doctor.

I know that he is a boy.
And I know his name.

I know that sometimes he gets hiccups
and he generally is awake from 8-10 at night.
And he might just be a dancer because he likes to move his butt.

There's so much I don't know.
And the surprise of that is invigorating!
I wonder.
Will he have blue eyes like Greta?
Will his hair be red?
Will he have hair?
How long will he be?
How much will he weigh?
Will he look like his daddy at all? (Greta didn't!)
Will his fingers be long?
Will his second toe be longer than the big one?
(It appeared to be during on of the ultrasounds!)

I can't wait to hear him cry
and to hold him
and to fall in love all over again.

Remind me...

2010-08-09T23:21:00.000-05:00

to never have unprotected sex in November, December or January. The hot, sweltering Midwest summer to follow is sure to be miserable. Add pregnancy hormones to that mix, and I'm like Mentos in a bottle of Diet Coke.

to account for my 8+ month pregnant belly when running bath water. Listening to the gurgle of the overflow drain is not relaxing. And plus, it just makes me feel bad for wasting so much water.

Highlights of Late

2010-07-30T20:43:00.003-05:00

I've slacked on taking photos lately, so I don't have many pictures to post. And since I've sent Greta to daycare and I lie on the couch most of the day and sleep, I don't have super great stories to share. Here's what I do have.

Miss Greta. The soon-to-be big sister. Each day, she does something that surprises me. We've sent her to a daycare full-time while I've rested for the past two months. Daycare sucks because it's a cess pool of germs and she constantly has a runny nose. But day care rocks because she's learning so many things that I'd never even thought of teaching her.

She sings songs. And it's the cutest thing you've ever seen. I'm standing in the kitchen the other evening, and Greta just breaks out into, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." She doesn't have the words down exactly, but she knows the tune. I sure hope she gets her daddy's talents in the singing department and not mine.

Greta calls Mimi (her grandma on Eric's side) Schatzi. And she calls her that because that's what Mimi calls Greta as a term of endearment. (Schatzi is a German phrase, meaning darling or sweetheart or treasure).

When Greta wants to be held, she says, "doo-doo, doo-doo." That means "hold you" as in "hold me." Other words in her version of vocabulary: bobby is strawberry; gog is dog; fee fee is love you. And some things she says clear as day. Like "no-no," which you just KNOW that is what she is saying because she's either shaking her head violently from side to side or she's waving her little pointer finger at you.

Greta is still addicted to her blankie, otherwise known as her KEE. We still have four of them, and I wash them ALL THE TIME. They get pretty grubby after all the toting around they get. She's recently started an obsession with her light-up sea horse, and oh-good-God some mornings it's a battle between her and her daddy. She wants to take it to daycare, and he insists on leaving it. The whining that ensues almost always wakes me up, but I don't mind. I always want to see her and give her kisses before she starts off her day and goes to "school."

Greta is in love with her daddy. Head over heels. They are buddies, it's adorable. She still comes to me for comforting, snuggling, boo-boo-kissing, but otherwise -- it's all Eric. He's more mobile than I, 8 month pregnant woman; and he likes to play and wrestle and have fun. And he teaches her the days of the week and other things like her first complete sentence, which was BUH-BYE, POO POO as she bid farewell to her poop flushing down the toliet.

Greta will point to my belly and say, "baby." And she'll kiss it. Freakin' adorable. I only worry that once I'm no longer pregnant and STILL have a pooch, that she'll still be calling that a baby. Hmmm. Maybe that'll be extra incentive to do some crunches and work on those flabby abs?

Favorite little memories of the week: Greta snuggling in bed with me one morning (which she RARELY does) and looking up at me and smiling big like GOOD MORNING, MAMA. Greta swinging and smiling HUGE as I watched her from our deck. The swing is attached to the bottom of the deck, so she'd swing under out and under and out; and each time she swung out from under the deck and saw me, she just giggled and grinned. Picking up Greta from daycare, it started pouring rain, and Greta was elated when she saw the rain. She was screaming, RAIN! WATER! RAIN! And it just made me happy that something so little made her so happy.

Ahhh... Other highlights of my week.... Wednesday marked the 34th week of my pregnancy, which was a HUGE date I'd marked on my calendar back when I was in my first trimester. I'd had Greta at 33 weeks, 6 days, and I really really really wanted to make it further with this pregnancy. And I have!!! My blood pressure was 120/76 at my last doctor appointment, and if things keep going the way they have been, I'm expected to have the baby on August 26 via c-section @ 38 weeks.

I'm obsessed with crab rangoon. Still. And now I am really craving crab legs. Not as in imitation crab meat, but as in the kind where you wear a plastic bib to protect your shirt from all the juices and hot butter. Oh, yum.

Eric. Husband who sleeps in the spare bedroom since I sleep like crap at night. (And because his snoring wakes me up). And he makes me breakfast many mornings, as well as dinner most evenings. And he rubs my feet and legs for me every night even though I know he's completely exhausted from work. We've gone to dinner two Saturday nights in a row, and I'm happy to know that we still love to chat with each other and enjoy each other's company.

But before you think I'm claiming to pretend that we're this perfect, happily married couple, let me assure you we're not. I'm cranky as heck when pregnant, and some days I think it's best that we keep our distance from another. He tries his best to get what I'm going through but some things he just won't. Like he doesn't quite get why I am TERRIFIED of another c-section, and he doesn't understand why I DVR the stupidest shows like Toddlers & Tiaras and So You Think You Can Dance. And while I completely appreciate his willingness to do the grocery shopping and other errands, he doesn't understand that I'd rather go to the grocery store myself to pick out my own bananas and strawberries and chicken salad just because that's what I like to do. He doesn't understand why I don't want to download his Pearl Jam CD onto my iTunes even though I explain to him that I'm putting RELAXING music on there for me to chill out and listen to when in the hospital. And he will never get why I get my nails done and feet pedicured when I rarely leave the house these days. I had overgrown French-manicured acrylic nails when I had Greta, and with this pregnancy, I'll admit that I have a minor obsession with keeping my nails filled and polished. He thinks it's absurd that I'd want to have my nails done "just for the doctors and nurses," and I must make sure I'm not drinking a beverage at that moment as to not instantaneously spit it all over him as in WTF. I try to explain that I get my nails done to make MYSELF feel better, that they make me feel pretty when I don't feel pretty in so many other ways. Ahhh. Some things he will never get but thank God he tries.

Like just now, he saw that I bought more guacamole from the grocery store, and he commented that he "sees that I like that guacamole, huh." And that's fine and it's cute that he notices what I like to eat, but then he insists on following it up with, "do you want to try it with a jalapeno from our garden?" And I'm all JALAPENOS were soooo TWO YEARS AGO. Ughhhh. (I ate jalapenos by the handful when I was pregnant with Greta).

He says I'm like a pregnant Napoleon Dynamite, with all my sighing of "gosh-es" and "ughhhhs." I think that's his nice way of saying YOU'RE PERSONALITY-LESS AND MEAN. Sadly, as I approach my ninth month of being cranky and tired and pregnant and anxious, I agree.

Celebrating Greta

2010-07-20T07:40:00.009-05:00

Yesterday, wrapped up the two-week celebration of Greta's birthday. On July 6th, our little bug turned two! We started off with fireworks on the 4th of July weekend and ended with her two-year check-up with her pediatrician.

We kicked off the festivities with family. My oldest sister came in town from Chicago, along with her three children. Greta loves spending time with all her cousins -- she seems to think they were purposely put here on her solely to entertain her. They chase her and play with her and love on her, and she just eats it all up.

For the 4th, we went downtown to Eric's work to watch fireworks from his office. We all bring snacks and treats and spread out in his firm's conference room. His office building is right near the Arch, so it's a perfect view of the Fair St. Louis fireworks show. And, since we're inside, we bypass the crowded mixture of families, concert-goers, drunkards and all others who have interest in having their bodies continuously come in contact with the sweat of other strangers.

Given the circumstances of me being 8 months pregnant, etc., this year's affairs were a bit tamer than last year's. We didn't do a big party, and as much fun as that sioree was, it was fun, too, having the birthday girl mostly to ourselves. We spent the day before her birthday going to Monkey Joe's and out to lunch. This was Greta's first visit to Monkey Joe's, and she seemed to enjoy running around willy-nilly and strutting her stuff on all the bouncing apparatuses.

Afterwards, we ate at McDonald's -- as in INSIDE the restaurant, sitting at an actual table. (I couldn't remember the last time I had actually been INSIDE a McDonald's). We chose fine dining because lately, Greta loves french fries. Loves as in sometimes it is all she will eat.

The next day, she took cupcakes to her little friends at daycare, and that evening, we celebrated with family with a dinner of salad, cheesesticks, pizza, and, of course, cake and ice cream.

Because she'd had a four-hour nap that afternoon, she was in the best of moods with the exception of one tiny incident, which I cannot help but recalling again and again because I cannot help but smile when thinking of it. Greta was sitting in her high chair and was finished eating her "main dish" of cheesesticks. We figured that since she was finished eating, we would let her down and out of her chair. We figured wrong. As soon as we got her out of her chair, she ran to the counter and banged on the box where the cake had been. SHE WANTED CAKE. She is sooo my daughter.

Greta loved opening birthday gifts: one, because she's curious and wants to know what's inside the wrapped package; two, because she loves having all the family looking at her.

We wrapped up the celebration with a birthday dinner at her Mimi and Poppy's. Tradition is that Mimi makes the birthday boy/girl their favorite meal. And, since no one else wanted french fries, applesauce and yogurt tubes, we instead had yummy chicken and dumplings. And, of course, MORE CAKE.

Ahhhh, how time flies when you're having fun! Our sweet little bumpkin -- the one who once weighed 4 pounds? -- she now weighs 27 pounds and 5 ounces! And she's just an inch and a half short of three feet tall.

Belly Love

2010-07-13T22:07:00.000-05:00

This is Greta, kissing my belly. You ask her where mama's baby is, and she insists on lifting my shirt to point to my baby bump. You ask her where her baby is, and she points to her tummy.

Two Years Ago

2010-07-06T09:18:00.000-05:00

Happy 2nd birthday to my sweet Greta Laine!

You've come a long way, baby!

Compilation of Random Thoughts

2010-07-01T16:27:00.001-05:00

I don't have any brilliant stories to tell or amazing life events to share. That's why I haven't written lately. I'm doing the semi-bed rest thing. Sleeping and resting lots during the day while Greta's at day care, seeing the doctor once a week. I'm 30 weeks pregnant. Blood pressure has remained steady, and Iam only three pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight. Knock on wood, but I have had no swelling elephant feet yet! I had my first biophysical utrasound this week, and the baby passed with flying colors.

I'll say this now, before you waste your time reading further -- the following lacks continuity. And I'm fully aware of that. So don't read on if you're looking for something to fluidly entertain your mind. That there's my unofficial disclaimer. :-)

While lying around, playing human incubator to sweet baby boy, I've been watching A LOT of DVDs. I've reached the end of the fifth season of Grey's Anatomy. What? Your side hurts? I'm pretty sure I could diagnose any illness from appendicitis to cancer. Okay, maybe not.
Earlier in my pregnancy, I craved orange juice. Lately, I crave crab rangoon. Let me just say that I love crab rangoon so much right now that I've briefly contemplated wrapping up some cream cheesy goodness in a wonton wrapper and frying 'em up in a Fry Daddy. Now, mind you, I don't own a Fry Daddy, and I have no desire to own a Fry Daddy, so kaposh on that plan. (Thank God). Also, if I made my own crab rangoon, I'd surely miss the polite banter I have with the cute little Chinese Lemay Wok worker. God love him. He puts ONE fortune cookie in my to-go bag. Does he really think that only one person will be eating 12 crab rangoon? Well, he's right. But still...

My mother-in-law? She is amazing. Right now, I've got a sofa piled with neatly folded laundry, homemade canneloni left-overs in the fridge, and last night she helped me wrangle the resident 2 year-old wild woman. And she listens. She truly listens. To the rants and the ramblings but to the important things, too. Like when I'm sad and upset and just need an ear. Mimi, when you're 101 years old and on your death bed, I will make sure your gray hairs are covered and that your hands and toes are always well-manicured. With ANY color or design you like. I'm forever grateful for you.

Although I often claim my husband is on my recent shit list, right now he's everything but. The other morning, he served me pancakes while I soaked in the bathtub. He may not remember all my quirky wishes and wants, but he's grasped the most important: in the majority of life's situations, kindness will always win me over, especially when it involves food.

Looking forward to celebrating Greta's 2nd birthday next week. I'm trying to not beat myself up for not having a big party for her. I'd wanted to, but with my current taking-it-easy situation, it just wasn't an option. It drives me nuts that I didn't make her special handmade invitations and decorations, and I so wish I had the energy and endurance to make her a special cake iced with buttercream frosting. I ordered her gift too late and am crossing my fingers that it makes it here in time for her birthday. I'm continusously trying to remind and reassure myself that birthdays aren't defined by crepe paper streamers and bright party hats or cake and ice cream and gifts. Birthdays are about spending time with the people who love you. And THAT, I can guarantee her.

Feeling guilty for not being a better friend to my friends and for not keeping up with e-mails and phone calls but so grateful for those who are understanding and forgiving. I assure you that you haven't missed much in Andrea's world, and what you did miss -- it's all babbled about above. Be thankful you didn't have to follow THAT incohesive conversation via telephone!

Oh, yeah. One more thing. It's now July. That means I AM HAVING A BABY NEXT MONTH. Holy schnikies.

Nesting

2010-06-09T16:21:00.001-05:00

Apparently, this pregnant mama ain't the only one doing a bit of nesting... Look what's on the top of the wreath on my front door! FOUR BABY BIRDS! Ignore the poop -- aren't they gorgeous?

Twenty-Three Months

2010-06-07T21:16:00.011-05:00

Dear Greta,

Today you are 23 months old. This month marks the last month of defining your age in months; I think that after you hit two years old, I'm supposed to say you're two -- not that you're 27 months or 32 months or whatever. And saying you're two just makes you seem so grown-up, that you're no longer a baby.

In many ways, you are still such a baby. You still wear diapers, and although we've adorned the bathroom with a hot pink potty chair, you haven't show much interest yet in potty training. You still eat while sitting in a high chair, and you constantly throw your sippy cup and your food on the floor (and on the dog). You're obsessed with my water bottles, fast food cups with straws and drinking glasses but you have yet to drink out of an open cup without sticking your dirty fingers in it or dumping its contents all over yourself.

You still like to put miscellaneous things in your mouth and can't be trusted with things that are small enough to be choking-hazards or things that can be destroyed (like books with paper pages). You often forget that you've yet to master walking the stairs, only to be reminded of this by tumbling down a few of them. You're still quite attached to your baby blanket, your "kee," which you sleep with every night. You still sleep in your baby crib -- so far you haven't attempted to crawl out of it-- and we haven't yet dared to think about converting your crib into a todldler bed.

In many ways, it's so obvious that you're not a baby. You've outgrown the infant section of most clothing stores, and some of your clothes are size 3T. You idolize the 5 year-old neighbor kids and try your best to keep up with them and their Power Wheels jeeps. You're obsessed with books, and your favorites include Llama Llama Mad At Mama, Olivia and Hello, Truman! You can't count or say the alphabet, but you sure can rock it out to Beyonce's Single Ladies.

You like to identify objects by their names, and you love seeing photographs of babies and of dogs, cats and fish, and of me and daddy just so you can tell us what you see. You could eat cheese and popsicles at every meal, and you could chug whole milk ALL DAY LONG, but otherwise, your eating habits are unpredictable, to say the least. You demand to have a bow in your hair only to rip it out at any given time. You'll tap your head and repeat, "bow, bow, bow" until we put a one in your hair. And, for the first time, I painted your toe nails last week, and you couldn't stop telling me how pretty they were.

We've recently introduced a naughty corner for time-outs. The idea is to get you to stop doing "bad" things that you particularly know you're not supposed to do, like rattling the window blinds or pulling the dog's tail. You definitely have a mind of your own, and you insist on expressing it. If you know the word for what you want, you will repeat it over and over in valiant hopes to get your way. However, there are many unfortunate circumstances where you DON'T know the words to express your desires, and you instead cry or whine or throw a tantrum. Those times are increasing in frequency, and I have to say that parenthood has never been so trying for us.

According to multiple child-rearing articles and countless Google searches, your behavior is completely normal in this stage of development. Which is great in the sense that it indicates you're developing normally. But it's not great in the sense that you're really giving me and Daddy a crash-course in parenting a toddler. These times are the most challenging we've yet experienced as parents. We're not flunking the course, but I wouldn't say we're acing it either. We're trying our best to roll with the punches, I promise.

And I just hope you'll do the same in the next few months. We've got lots of changes in the works. You've got a baby brother on the way! And I know that means nothing to you right now: you see a mom who can no longer take you to do fun things like going to the zoo, the park and out for walks. You see a mom who lays on the couch a lot, and you don't see that that growing bump of a belly as a baby, but instead you see it as the perfect bench for your little bottom.

For the past two years, our whole world has mainly revolved around you. I'd like to think that we've made you feel loved, secure and well-cared for. I get nervous that the changes in our family will be trying for you. I know they will be.

You're growing up so fast, and each day I'm reminded that you're no longer a baby. But please know this -- in my heart, no matter how many little brothers or sisters you have, some things will never change. YOU made me a mother, and you will always always always be my first baby. I love you.

Love,

Mama

Me @ 26 Weeks & 2 Days

2010-06-04T18:06:00.001-05:00

Yesterday's blood pressure was 114/78.
No protein in urine.
Up just one pound since start of pregnancy.
Glucose screening showed no signs of gestational diabetes.
I feel bad for not showing more gratitude
and relief
when I heard the news.
At the time, I was running on less than two hours of sleep.

Pregnancy-induced insomnia plagues me often.
And I suck at being nice when I'm sleep-deprived.
I'm trying to be better.
And to ween off the Ambien.

I met with the head of anesthesiology at the hospital.
I talked about my panic attack with Greta's birth,
something that I don't talk to often or with many people.
Talking to him made me feel better.
Like I can do this.
I can.
I will.

Baby boy kicks A LOT. It's neat.
We've narrowed down names but have yet to decide on one.
We don't like trendy or popular.
We tend to lean towards traditional
but back away from the over-used.

I've been resting a lot.
And trying to watch TV. (I hate TV).
Except for Glee, Dancing with the Stars.
And maybe, sometimes, 16 & Pregnant.
And I rented Big Love, Season 3.

Hubby has been working INSANE hours.
Greta hates me. Or at least that's how I feel.
I'm emotional and pregnant, so I know it's not personal,
but lately, she is a daddy's girl,
and she thoroughly enjoys testing her boundaries with me.
She won't give me kisses, and she doesn't listen much.

I love her. So much.
But this stage/age?
Not so much.

32 & Pregnant

2010-06-02T11:44:00.000-05:00

Wondering... Why is it that the five-and-a-half month prego chick on 16 & Pregnant can go to dance practice and be a high school cheerleader, and I, six months pregnant, can barely get my ass off the couch without a struggle?

Cheese

2010-05-22T20:41:00.001-05:00

I know. Total over-exposure but I'll be the first to admit that I'm no master photographer. I can't help, though, but love love love this photo of Greta. I love how happy she is here, and her squinty eyes and sweet grin show it. God love her.

How to Piss Off a Pregnant Woman

2010-05-22T18:10:00.001-05:00

How to Piss Off a Pregnant Woman:

say to her, "Well, I can definitely tell that those pregnancy hormones are kicking in," in response to her expressing any sort of emotion;
continuously inqure as to the location of your boxer shorts even though you've been informed that said pregnant woman is no longer on full-time laundry duty;
whine about how your feet are sooooo cold from having to walk the house barefoot because all your socks are in the dirty laundry;
sigh dramatically (again and again) about having to baby-proof the large television that could possibly fall on resident toddler;
refuse to sleep on the new bedding because the duvet consists of flowery fabric;
say, "I diagree with what you're saying," and then, seconds later ask, "What are we disagreeing about?";
not deeming it a priority or acknowledging the significance of putting up the glass bottles of liquor out of reach from curious, cabinet-latch-breaking baby girl;
ask pregnant wife if she's going to clean YOUR bathroom before company comes over;
forget that pregnant wife is supposed to be resting and taking it easy even after having situation explained to you repeatedly on multiple occasions;
open your mouth (if you are above-described person);
breathe her air (if you are above-described person); or
look at her wrong (if you are above-described person).

This is just today's list. I'm sure I can come up with another tomorrow.

24 Weeks: 122/80

2010-05-21T21:19:00.000-05:00

Today's trip to the doctor's office went well!

No weight gain.
Blood pressure was 122/80.
Only trace amounts of protein in urine.
And no additional 24-hour urine collection.
For now.

I plan to continue to take it easy and rest.
I've got another appointment next week.
Here's hoping my numbers stay the same.

Not A Martyr, Just Intolerant While Pregnant

2010-05-21T20:55:00.003-05:00

Since being hypervigilant about getting enough rest and watching my blood pressure situation, I've been limiting any non-essential errands like going to Target, playdates and so forth. I've deleted my calendar of extra-curricular activities. (For THREE MONTHS.) I had previously scheduled a Friday evening and day-long Saturday scrapbooking gathering but cancelled it because I didn't think it was best for my health right now. I was really looking forward to getting out of the house, doing what I enjoy and having some "me" time.

Generally, when I do these all-day scrapbook events, I'm grateful to my husband for taking care of Greta -- for doing what I do, day-in, day-out. I think it's good for him to have a 24-hour marathon of playing diaper-changer, short order cook, maid, milk-fetcher, mess cleaner, entertainer, play friend, boo boo kisser, story teller, stroller pusher, errand-runner, disciplinarian and parent.

Did you see me boasting to anyone that I had cancelled MY plans? No. And I didn't feel all proud of myself for being an adult and doing the RIGHT thing.

So imagine my frustration when hubby comes home this evening and proudly declares, "I got invited to poker tonight and didn't go." So I quickly pointed out that after going to the doctor earlier today and taking care of Greta all day, I was supposed to be off my feet and resting this evening. And so, thus, realistically, there was no way he could have gone and played poker. I could tell he was disappointed that I didn't express to him in that moment that I was proud of him for coming home, for opting to NOT play poker with his buddies. I think he wanted me to commend him for turning down a fun time. But I think, instead, he needs to be reminded, that while we're both in need of some fun me-time, we've got to make baby boy's health the number one priority right now. Not resting enough, not having controlled blood pressure, and consequently developing pre-eclampsia and risking delivering a premature baby? I will lay on the couch for eternity for this little boy.

I'm sure to many, spending hours on the sofa sounds delightful. Not to me. I hate TV. I hate laying around. I hate doing nothing. I don't do it well. I am that person who needs to constantly do something -- laundry, dusting, cooking, organizing, going going going.

So, dear husband -- who is so wonderful in so many other ways -- after I cancelled my fun plans to stay at home to rest for medical reasons... I'm sorry that I can't pat you on the back for being a big boy and not playing poker on my night off. I'm donating my ENTIRE SUMMER to play human incubator.

** Disclaimer: Pregnant women are, in my opinion, fully entitled to bitch about things that, in some people's opinion, may or may not be trivial. I don't think I'm a martyr for being a stay-at-home mom. I think my husband is awesome for working his ass off the way he does. But... every once in a while, I can't write all flowerly things about my daughter or motherhood or whatever. And instead, I'm inclined to bitch and moan just to remind myself -- and my friends and family -- that most of the time, I do a pretty good job at keeping the pregnant bitch at bay. Sometimes, if you look at me the wrong way, it comes out. Whoops.

No Angel

2010-05-18T20:16:00.001-05:00

Don't let the wording on the shirt fool you.
Yes, she is sweet.
Yes, she is showing personality.
But, wowza.
She is just a week or so short of 23 months,
and all of a sudden, my goodnight prayers are much longer.
Praying I can survive the tantrums,
the want for independence,
the defiance.
My little lovely lady is a spitfire.

THE TERRIBLE TWOS ARE KICKING MY ASS.

.

Chairs, Minivans (and Maybe a Man Slave?)

2010-05-17T22:37:00.000-05:00

Laying around so much is driving me nuts. I just glanced down and thought my bra was my cat, Emmylou. For the record, I haven't had my cat for about three years. My brief hallucination made me miss her. I'm not a cat fan, but that sweet kitty sure was good for cozying up on the couch.

Note to self -- and to husband -- let's not purchase leather furniture ever.again. This leather couch, albeit lovely in appearance, is cold and uncomfortable. It's hard to sleep on, and I get a crick in my neck regardless of my position. It was nice when Greta was at the age where she spit-up exorcist-style multiple times a day, but I'd almost rather have a nasty, stained couch that is warm, comfortable and inviting. And, those big puffy recliners that I've always sworn off because they just didn't mesh well with my other decor? Well, shit. I need one. Or two. Have you ever sat in one of those? I sat in my neighbor's this evening, and I decided that I would never leave the T.V. room again if I had one of those puppies. Sure, they're about the size of an extended station wagon -- and about as stylish -- but I'm to the point in my life where sometimes you must opt for function and comfort over pretty and perfect.

Kind of like minivans. No one chooses to drive those things because they scream I'M SO COOL. No. A person drives a minivan for the accomodations: the ease of getting in and out, the spaciousness of the interior, the ability to park your kids' seats in the VERY BACK of the car FURTHEST from you. (Just kidding. Not really.) I'm not dogging on anyone with a minivan. Because if I were up for getting a new car, that is what I'd get. I'd be sure to get T.V. screens in the thing so I could go sit in it while its parked in the garage and enjoy its multitude of luxuries, in particular for the times when my hubs is monopolizing the one household television. And I'm not dogging on reclining puffy chairs either. I'm in the market for one right now. Actually, I'm in the market for anything that would make me and my life a bit comfier these days.

Selfless Husband

2010-05-17T22:30:00.000-05:00

I've been having more restful nights lately. Thank God. Otherwise, I was about to curl up in a ball under the kitchen table and vigorously rock myself into deeper oblivion. Instead, I began taking Ambien before bedtime, and I'm no longer a complete hateful butthole during the daytime. Thank you, too, to my husband who has donated our complete king-size bed to me and my enormous pregnancy pillow while he selflessly retires on the queen-size hard mattress in our spare bedroom.

God love him. So, earlier today, we're in the car driving, and I start complaining that I feel sick amd must eat something soon. Usually I carry almonds or a Nutrigrain bar in my console, but I'd recently depleted that stash. We ran through Taco Bell, and well, I am not a big fan of Taco Bell. Or Mexican food in general. But anyhoo. I ordered a bean burrito for me and cheese roll-ups for Greta, and Eric ordered a five-layer burrito and some other fine Mexican delicacy that I don't know the name. We got our order, and I started eating in the car because I was starving and feeling yucky -- and because it's just more of a treat to eat in the car than at home with a whining toddler-crawling up your leg. I asked Eric if he wanted a bite of my bean burrito, and he insisted I eat it and enjoy it on my own. And here's what's funny -- I, girl who doesn't like Taco Bell, kept commenting on how tasty my burrito was. Three bites remaining, I'm looking at the thing, thinking that there sure was a lot of cheese on it for a plain bean burrito. And then, I saw the beef. And I said to Eric, this thing has meat on it. And it dawned on him. He replied, "That's because you're eating MY FIVE-LAYER BURRITO."

Um, oops.

Update: Nothing

2010-05-14T12:22:00.000-05:00

I don't have a bladder infection.
My bloodwork shows no abnormalities with my platelets, liver enzymes, etc.
I'm still waiting to hear if my 24-hour pee collection showed anything.
My at-home blood pressure monitor has shown mildly elevated blood pressure, but I personally think the thing is a piece-of-shit and isn't the same as a nurse or doctor reading it with their tried-and-true good ol' stethoscope.

I know, not very exciting, but this little update is easier than e-mailing back a gazillion people. (Who am I kidding -- I shouldn't flatter myself and even begin to think I have a gazillion friends who read this, but to the 18.3 that do - here's the scoop.)

Thinking Positive

2010-05-12T08:39:00.001-05:00

I went to the doctor yesterday. My blood pressure was high and results from my urine test showed protein -- two signs of pre-eclampsia. However, there is a chance this is something such as a bladder infection, which is what I'm hoping for. I'm 23 weeks pregnant, and it's too early for baby to come. I'm trying to rest a lot but I'm bummed -- nervous, anxious, crying, wishing, hoping, praying ... and trying my best to focus on things that make me happy...

Mother's Day Wishes

2010-05-09T09:26:00.003-05:00

I wish...

to sleep more than two consecutive hours;

to wake up feeling well-rested;

to shower in a room by myself, with enough time to
shampoo, condition, wash AND shave my legs;

to go poop without having to scream at a little runchkin to

STOP UNROLLING THE TOLIET PAPER!;

to eat a meal while sitting down

and to remain seated for the entire duration of the meal.

I will...

most likely not shave my legs;

will grin & bare the tiredness of pregnancy and running after a toddler;

ignore the two peeping eyes watching me potty;

remind myself that one day she'll have no desire

to be held or to crawl on my lap or smother me with smooches

so for now, I'll set aside hopes of an uninterrupted meal.

Today, I will celebrate with this little pumpkin,

the girl who made me a mother.

Greta: 22 Months

2010-05-06T22:34:00.001-05:00

And just like that. She was no longer a baby.

I shouldn't be so surprised. I should have seen it coming. I mean, she asks to brush her teeth each morning. She dances to Lady Gaga songs and sings along to Beyonce. She still lets me choose her outfits but insists that she have a bow in her hair at most times. And while she still drinks out of a sippy cup because that's what we provide her, she'd much prefer an adult cup with a straw. Sure, these are just little things, but each individually and moreso collectively indicate that she's NO LONGER A BABY.

I think I realize this more lately now that the weather has gotten warmer, and especially when our street is filled with neighborhood children riding their motorized mini-vehicles, running through lawn sprinklers and hunting down the ice cream truck. The little girls come and ring our doorbell, asking "Can Greta come out and play?" and my heart just melts because it's so purely sweet. In addition to developing a quick fascination with child-sized Escalades driven by five year-olds, Greta has learned the simple joys of running through the lawn sprinkler on a warm sunny afternoon. She's come to recognize the sound of the ding-ding of the ice cream truck. (Oh shit; I'm going to go broke. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH ICE CREAM COSTS THESE DAYS?!) Most momentous in my mind, is that she has started to learn to make friends. And for this I am glad and sad and nervous and -- as flashbacks of grade school cattiness flood my memory -- I realize how the older she gets, the less I can protect her.

I suppose I shouldn't get ahead of myself, but that's my nature... Instead of worrying about her learning to hold her own with her little peers, my worries are more focused on other ways of protecting her -- like keeping her out of the street and that not all dogs are friendly and that when Mama says something is "hot" it's because it will hurt you very badly if you touch it. The girl has not a clue that if she runs into the street, she can get ran over by a car. In public places, she has no reluctance to run from us because she assumes we'll be right there for her, just like we always are. She doesn't know there are bad people in the world. She thinks that all people and dogs and cats are nice; in her mind, it's HER world, and we're all just living in it.

She sure keeps her mama busy. Oh me oh my. Lately, she's really been testing her boundaries, and just today I came to the realization that I need to be firmer and stricter. I feel that this is the point in parenting where it would be way easier to cave in and let her have her way. When she doesn't want to get dressed, it's much easier for me to go and do something I would like to do for myself instead. When she wants something she isn't supposed to have, it's much easier to give in than to resist. But with these conclusions, I've also decided that as easy as those paths might seem at the moment, in the long run, it will be easier to be stern and stick to my guns. And so it goes. Raising a well-behaved child is not going to be an easy venture. Eck.

Just this afternoon, Greta was playing with her little friends down the street. It had been a long day, as we spent the morning and early afternoon at the zoo, and I knew Greta was tired and growing hungry. As I attempted to bring her home to eat dinner, she kicked and screamed and flailed her little arms and legs. I kept my cool and hauled her little 25 pound-self home. She shook and turned bright red and threw her body onto our living floor like I'd just informed her there was no more milk in the whole entire world. (The girl is ADDICTED to milk.) She cried and cried, and I sat there and waited for her to calm down. I did my best to hold it together but could not. As she sat there and cried, I started crying, too. Not because I felt overwhelmed. No. I cried because at that moment, it dawned on me that on this day, she's just two months shy of turning two years old. And I cried because this whole motherhood thing has been a bit challenging at times, and each time I think I've ~~conquered~~ learned to manage one stage, another one begins, and I'm humbled all over again. I cried because this little girl has taught me more in two years than I've learned in a lifetime, and I cried because this little girl will always be my baby.

Life Lately

2010-04-24T22:09:00.008-05:00

Greta is 21 months-old. She continues to light up my life countless times a day. She's got a sense of humor, and loves to love, and she loves telling us that the dog goes, "woof," and showing us where her nose and other body parts are located. She's obsessed with reading books. And she enjoys being outside, and she's infatuated with the older neighborhood children. She thinks she's one of the big girls, and maybe she IS almost two years old, but in my heart, and in my mind, she is still my baby. I'm slowly working on accepting the reality that she's becoming a little girl.

I'm 20 weeks pregnant with a little boy. I've recently started to feel him move, making the pregnancy a little more real although still not completely. I'm still in shock, and I'm not kidding you -- I still have the first pregnancy test sitting on the shelf above my toliet. Don't worry -- I WILL NOT scrapbook it. I just can't bring myself to throw it away right now, because I still am shocked that I'm pregnant. This baby is so very wanted but the pregnancy was a surprise, and I don't think it will be completely real until I'm holding a little baby boy in my arms. Wow.

This pregnancy is much like my pregnancy with Greta. In fact, they're just a few weeks apart from the other, so all my maternity clothes are the same season and I'm able to compare my stats (weight gain, etc.) easily to those from a couple years ago. So far, I've gained two pounds, and my blood pressure has remained controlled. This does not calm me, however, from the reality that it could still go bad. At this point in my pregnancy with Greta, my blood pressure was still fine.

I'm nervous about another premature baby but not to the point that I obsess about it. I religiously take my medicine, and I'm trying to eat well, rest often and exercise a bit, too. I'm doing what I can. I think I'm more anxious about having two children, just two years apart from one another, than I am about the imminent birth little baby boy. Holy shit.

I'm nesting a lot, I guess. Organizing closets, purging clothes and anything not used in the past two years. I've been spending a lot of time and energy emptying my scrapbook room to make way for the nursery. I've been a little over-focused on this nesting deal, I think -- I've got friends calling me to see if I'm okay, if I'm still alive, and yes, I am. I'm just a little hard-core with things right now. It's driven by my fear of another forced bedrest and not being able to complete things. I wasn't ready preparing Greta's room, clothing, car seat, etc., and while I know she and we survived just fine, I just feel better getting my ducks in a row.

In addition to nesting, I sleep a lot. Or I try to. I sleep like crap at night, often waking at random hours (2:30 a.m. or so) wide awake. I get up every two hours to pee, and then I can't help but focus on my husband snoring loudly next to me. Since my sleep is so uninterrupted, I usually wake up feeling cranky and unrested and often spend my days counting down the hours until naptime. When Greta naps, I nap, too. It's my favorite time of the day.

I'm Over It

2010-04-24T21:46:00.003-05:00

It's official. I quit. I'm talking about the Project 365 dealio that I've been dreading for the past 100+ days. I don't like it. The idea was to capture our life in photos for a year, but instead, it leaves me feeling stressed, in a constant state of un-caught-up. I don't like that feeling.

I just got off the phone with Cara, and while she was complaining about legitimate issues (a crying baby up at 9 p.m. on a Saturday night and another baby up for reasons unknown), I instead whined about this project. And maybe she just wanted to me to shut the heck up already and quit whining, so maybe this was why her response was so quick... AND SO BRILLIANT. But as I was telling her I wasn't having fun with it, she answered, "So don't do it."

There.
That simple. Freakin' God love her. And her simple advice.

So, here's my thing. Even though my photos are date-stamped, it's still a pain in the butt to go back and organize all the photos chronologically. Now, if I kept up with the project and downloaded a photo each day, perhaps I wouldn't have this problem, but that just isn't happening. I'm lucky to get online to check e-mails these days. Hooking up my camera to download photos seems so often daunting.

The other thing that I do not like about this project is that I've stopped writing much. My forte has never been photography, and although one of my reasons for challenging myself to take on the picture-a-day project was to better my photography skills, I don't want that to be at the expense of my writing. I like to write. It's always been a passion of mine, and I'd rather have my words to tell our story than photos. My new motto is that it's about quality and not quantity.

My 99th Photo of 2010!

2010-04-09T21:46:00.002-05:00

04.10.2010

This is my sisterwife, Cara.

We're not gay lovers, but we joke

that if our husbands ever died,

we'd move in together and get along just perfectly.

Cara is one of those friends who I love with all my heart.

I'd never tell her that though.

I don't want her to think she's that cool.

But, dude. She IS.

She's that friend I wish I'd had all my life

-- the friend I needed all my life --

but I didn't meet her until

we were planning our weddings six years ago.

I was her makeup artist for her wedding.

And it just goes to show you

that friendships happen so randomly

when and where you'd least expect it.

This is the woman who walked me through

the first few months of motherhood.

EVERY DAY.

I'd call her and tell her that my milk was drying up,

that my boobs were broken and I was starving my baby.

And this Milk Mama Pro would assure me that it wasn't

and that I needed to CHILL THE EFF OUT.

(Those weren't her words. She rarely cusses).

Her advice on

motherhood

babies

and dealing with life

has been priceless.

Seriously, my advice to new moms?

FIND A FRIEND LIKE CARA.

One who will listen to you bitch and understands you

and knows you're quirky and somewhat odd

but celebrates,relishes it and is fine with it.

(Or at least does an amazing job pretending to.)

Find a friend you can call at any time and ask

why your boobs are doing this,

and why your bum feels like that,

and is it normal to smell funny when you're....

She lays it on the line

talks me back from the ledge

puts me in my place.

She's like a tall cup of cold ice water, served in a funky glass

with a side dose of Xanax.

One word for Cara is

CALM.

And I don't know how she does it.

I've got one chlid.

CARA HAS THREE.

(3, 2 and 3 months. I'm not kidding.)

She always seems to have her shit together.

Without fail.

She recently brought home her newest addition, Violet.

I got to hold Violet for the first time today.

She's lucky I did not steal her and take her home with me.

I could have touched her sweet cheeks ALL DAY LONG.

At the end of the year, when I'm looking back

at this project of "365 Photos"

Violet will be a year old, and along with her sisters

getting into everything.

And I'll have a baby boy

and we'll come full circle once again

to me calling Cara with all my annoying new-mom questions.

Cara, I'm just warning you now...

93/365

2010-04-08T22:24:00.000-05:00

04.03.2010

Daddy was out for the night

playing poker.

Mama was too exhausted

to follow the rules.

Hence, the little naked rugrat

running around the house

with a huge ripe strawberry in her hand.

84/365

2010-04-08T22:19:00.000-05:00

03.25.2010

@ Purina Farms, watching the dog show.

And this is how she rolls.

Sucker in her mouth.

Jean dress.

Chuck Taylors.

Foot in the air.

Such a lady.

87/365

2010-04-08T22:16:00.002-05:00

03.28

33/365 - 02.02.2010

2010-04-08T22:16:00.001-05:00

97/365 - 04.07.10

2010-04-08T22:16:00.000-05:00

04.07.2010

Destroying the chocolate bunny...

Surely, we thought she'd go straight for the ears.

Instead, she bit right into his bum.

The Evolution of Easter Bunny Love

2010-04-08T21:59:00.002-05:00

A few weeks ago,

we went to The Oakland House's Bunny Hutch,

where Greta visited with the Easter Bunny

for the first time this season, the second time in her life.

She was not a fan.

The following week, we went to Purina Farms.

She liked this bunny,

especially his colorful bow.

I think he's got a sweeter face, too!

Bunny love is ALL in how the bunny's face looks.

No one likes a creepy bunny.

Then on Easter, my sister's boyfriend

dressed up as the Easter Bunny.

Greta liked him.

He tickled her

and made her laugh.

They gave each other high-fives like old pals.

And she even gave him a few kisses.

99/365 | 04-09-2010

2010-04-08T21:31:00.002-05:00

04.09.2010

TULIPS.

That's how you win my heart.

(In case you wanted to know.)

In life, there are people who will never get you.

There are people who will try.

There will be those that don't dare to try.

And there are those that just do.

They get you.

And they like you.

Truly.

This is one lesson I dread to teach my children.

Really, it's something that can't be taught.

That's why I dread it;

it's learned along the way.

Trial and error.

It sucks, but it's a fact of life.

The thing is...

even though the people that get you are rare,

they're such a complete blessing

whom you appreciate more

because they make the "ungetters" forgiveable.

And they win your heart

BIG

by the most simple act.

Those people are the tulip-givers.

98/365 -04.08.10

2010-04-08T21:17:00.002-05:00

04.08.2010

The closer she gets to 2 years old,

the more tantrums she throws.

But along with those tantrums,

comes a personality

that just gets bigger each day.

She loves to be silly.

And she loves to make me laugh.

(Well, when she feels like it.)

Here, she was doing what looked like push-ups.

Lord knows she wasn't imitating me.

Good Afternoon!

2010-04-08T17:42:00.004-05:00

This lovely bumpkin... took a nice long three-hour nap this afternoon, and when I went to go get her from her crib, THIS is what I was greeted with. That smile lights up my life and makes everyday life frustrations momentarily escape.

We're growing out her hair. At times the process is dreadful, like when she refuses to wear a hair bow or barrette to keep the shag out of eyes, and then she looks like a raggedy orphan. Other times, I absolutely love it, especially when she wakes up from a nap where she's slept so deep that she's gotten warm enough to make her hair do a slight flippy curl. I love the little wisps on the one side of her head.

Mmmmm, I find her absolutely delectable and scrumptious in moments like these, but I am struck by a wee bit of sadness that my baby girl is no longer a baby and is ... a toddler.

92/365

2010-04-07T21:31:00.000-05:00

04.02

Good Friday

Life is good.

How can it not be with smiles like this!?

96/365 - 04.06.2010

2010-04-07T21:15:00.000-05:00

04.06.10

This weather of recent has been incredible.

Sunny days filled with warm air and nice breezes

make me in love with Mother Nature,

and I'm considering forgiving her for the shitty winter we had.

But alas, without rain, we'd never appreciate the sun.

Greta's loved getting outdoors to play and soak up the spring goodness.

She enjoys checking out the older neighborhood chidren

as they ride their bikes and little vehicles.

She's no longer a huge fan of the stroller.

She wants to ride her car by HERSELF.

And she'd much rather push the wagon herself than be a passenger.

Hmmm, I wonder where she gets it from --

the constant want to be in charge and in control?

Ha!

88/365

2010-04-06T21:33:00.000-05:00

03.29
How sweet is this?!
A fun morning @ The Oakland House:
story time, puppet show, live rabbit, Easter bunny and candy.
I love the little grin on Greta's face,
and I love the smiling old lady, too.

89/365

2010-04-06T21:18:00.003-05:00

03.30

I'm really kinda ashamed to post this photo.

(Or maybe I should be more embarassed

for even TAKING this photo!?!)

So, the idea of this little 365 project is to tell my story

over the course of a year by taking a photo each day.

Most photos are of Greta.

I cannot help that; I'm with her all day,

and she is my favorite thing to photograph, I must admit.

However, on this day, I thought I'd switch it up a bit

by posting this photo of the McDonald's drive-thru menu.

Sure, I have multiple photos of a smiling-Greta swinging at the park,

and those are so much sweeter and more inviting.

But, this photo sums up my life recently.

At 17 weeks pregnant, I don't have a huge appetite.

We can have a well-stocked fridge and pantry,

and I can't find a single thing that sounds good enough to eat.

What does sound good?

McDonald's McGriddle sandwiches.

Sausage, egg and cheese, to be exact.

The crap is scrumptiously delicious.

(And, that's what it is, CRAP. I know.)

My friend swears that McDonald's laces its food with crack

or something.

Everything there is addicting and tastes good.

At least to my unrefined pregnant palate.

I'm incredibly embarassed to admit that I'm proud to say

I've not eaten there yet this week.

(That's huge).

91/365

2010-04-06T21:10:00.000-05:00

04.01

Caught red-handed

after snatching my makeup bag

after a morning bath.

90/365

2010-04-06T21:05:00.001-05:00

03.31

THIS is what we are greeted by each morning.

Payton, our 6 year-old Lab, who insists on sleeping

under OUR bed IN her bed.

It's like a cocoon.

And she only comes out once she hears

the beeping from us disarming the house alarm system.

She's lazy and loves to sleep.

She eats well and is loved much and often.

She's quite the pampered pooch.

I always say,

in my next life, if I had the choice,

I'd like to come back as my dog.

94/365

2010-04-06T20:46:00.001-05:00

04.04

Miss Greta, checking out her Easter basket on Easter morning.

Mr. Bunny brought books, candy, egg-shaped chalk,

a new monogrammed Easter basket, and a few random toys.

Happy Easter!

95/365

2010-04-06T20:38:00.001-05:00

04.05

Flowers from my honey.

He worked later than usual,

so he brought me these.

He is a keeper!

83/365

2010-03-31T14:50:00.001-05:00

03.24

My photo binders for my Library of Memories class.

I love the idea of getting organized,

but it's tempting to say eff-it

and no longer take photos.

Anyone who knows me, however, knows that will never happen.

I'm a picture addict! Always have been!

I think it might have something to do with the fact

that there are hardly any photos of me as a baby and young child.

I am the youngest of four girls and am lucky to have been fed and clothed.

My baby book is empty, and I know it's not because

I was loved any less than my three older sisters.

I know that my mom had other priorities than filling out silly baby books.

So I think that's what drives my obsession.

Should I leave this earth tomorrow, I've done my best

to tell Greta her story so she can read it when she's older.

I plan on being here for quite a while though.

And doing a lot more photo-taking and scrapbook-making.

82/365

2010-03-30T16:01:00.002-05:00

03.23

1240+ photos from Shutterfly.

Proud to say, they are all filed away

chronologically, ready for their stories to be told.

I've got my life's collection of photographs

organized into storage binders.

(That's 32 years of pictures!)

It's part of my homework for my

Big Picture Scrapbooking Library of Memories class.

The class work is exhausting, but I am realizing

that I don't have to stay "caught up" on scrapbooking,

and that's going to make me feel less overwhelmed with my fun little hobby.

I hope. ;-)

80/365

2010-03-30T15:51:00.002-05:00

03.21

Greta's favorite thing: her "kee" ...

She drags this blanket EVERY WHERE.

She's like a little Linus.

Unfortunately, the manufacturer no longer makes these blankets.

I have searched high and low for this damn blanket.

I placed two separate orders from two separate online companies,

only for each company to later contact me

to inform me that the blanket was out of stock.

I was lucky enough to locate one of the blankets on eBay.

It was used, but a little detergent and OxiClean fixes up anything.

And then, I hit the motherload, my friends!

I found TWO BRAND NEW ONES on eBay!!

Wahoo Wahoo Wahoo!

Now, fine, whatever. You can read this and think WHO CARES?

Well, don't read my blog then, for one.

But, secondly, you obviously have never had a child so attached

to a material object that you would hunt down extras

to save your own ass.

We now have four, and I think we're all set.

One's constantly with Greta.

One's constantly in the laundry.

One's hanging in the closet, still in packaging.

One is hanging out around the house somewhere.

The things we do for love, right?

Holy Blog

2010-03-30T02:45:00.001-05:00

Seventeen weeks pregnant, and my sleeping is horrendous. I wake up every two hours to pee. And the smallest peep of a snore from the big bear who sleeps next to me wakes me up and sometimes tempts me to kick him. Instead, I urge him to "roll over on your tummy." It only stops the snoring momentarily, but sometimes in those few moments, I can fall back asleep Most, I cannot. So I move to our office, where the spare bed resides, and I try to catch some rest there instead. Sometimes the transition is easy and I'm able to fall back asleep. Sometimes I'm wide awake and spend time tinkering on the computer. There's only so much facebooking you can do, so I read blogs to pass the time. I follow one of my best friends, and then I read this and this. Most of the blogs I follow are light-hearted, simple reads, and I generally am not interested in religious blogs. Not that there's anything wrong with them. They're just not my cup of tea. I recently stumbled up the blog, A Holy Experience, and I found the following, making me glad that there are religious bloggers out there. :-) I think this is beautiful.

Dear Babies that I have bore:

You teach your Mama and she be slow.

Every day we throw back the quilts and we do life together all day in these four walls and you six children teach this one hard heart what it means to love.

Thank you.

For learning your Mama --- what it means to show grace, to step over negativity, to bite the tongue, to hold and soothe the sadness, to work on when tired, to pray more fervently, to wipe up the ugliness with love, to cover up the sinnning mad with the embrace tender, to learn to do love the only way love is real: unconditionally.

It isn't always pretty. Every single day, many times a day, I fail.

But Love doesn't. Every way of living, every paradigm, every philosophy, every thing, that attempts to function apart from the righted love will unequivocally fail.

There is only one sustainable, enduring force to be found in the whole of the cosmos and it is sacrifical love.

Today again you children will teach me the language of the Kingdom that will never pass away, and today again I'll learn love, the reality that will never pass away and together we will work on rightly ordering love and I don't know if I ever really would have known it in the skin and the bone, the awe of the sacrifical love, without the love of each of you.

81/365

2010-03-29T10:49:00.001-05:00

03.22

Greta painting for the first time.

She wanted to eat the paint.

2.24.10 -- 55/365

2010-03-29T10:46:00.001-05:00

Friends.

79/365

2010-03-28T06:20:00.001-05:00

03.20.10

Payton, playing the part of sad sad puppy dog.

78/365

2010-03-28T06:19:00.001-05:00

03.19.10

My drink of choice these days: orange juice.

With Greta, I craved macaroni & cheese, deviled eggs,

and spicy foods like jalapenos.

I generally don't like Mexican (or other spicy) eats,

but when I was pregnant with Greta, I would sit at my desk at work

and eat jalapenos PLAIN.

Can you say heartburn?!

Feeling Guilty

2010-03-22T13:19:00.000-05:00

for breaking into Greta's Easter basket (which I prepared two weeks ago) and stealing some chocolate candy. I'm not usually a chocolate fanatic, but I needed something sweet.

74/365

2010-03-18T11:46:00.001-05:00

03.16.10

I'd pay money to get my hair this color.

73/365

2010-03-18T11:43:00.002-05:00

03.15.2010

Bwahahaha!

I'm from Illinois but am a Mizzou fan.

I did my time at Mizzou (okay, just a semester, but still!),

so I'm a Mizzou fan, but Eric went to undergrad and law school there

so the man lives and breathes Mizzou.

We visited a friend, and Greta pulled this blanket from a basket.

It was soft, and she liked it,

and she kept laying on it and petting it.

I thought it would be funny to snap a picture to later show Eric.

I'm evil. ;-)

72/365

2010-03-18T11:37:00.001-05:00

03.14.2010

We had a little birthday party for Eric's mom, Mimi.

I love that Greta loves her to pieces.

Happy birthday to the world's best mother-in-law!

(Seriously, how man people can say THAT?!?

I really lucked out.)

71/365

2010-03-18T11:32:00.001-05:00

03.13.2010

I bought Greta a Cozy Coupe from the local resale shop,

and she is absolutely in love with the little car.

Right now, it's in our house, we've yet to take it outside.

It's occupied hours of her time, and I must admit,

it's the best $25 I've spent in a long time.

71/365

2010-03-18T11:29:00.003-05:00

03.12.2010

Greta's two favorite things:

her kee and her cup.

Kee = blankie.

Cup = milk.

The child does not leave the house without her kee.

And let me tell you about the "kee."

The blanket is from Babies R Us,

and apparently Cocalo no longer makes it.

I scoured the Internet for them.

I bought one used off eBay.

And yesterday I scored two brand new ones off eBay.

Since she drags them EVERY where, they get so dirty,

so I now have back-ups.

Call me crazy, but this blanket is like a body limb she cannot live without.

As for the cup...

"Cup" means milk.

The girl is a milkaholic.

We've offered her water and juice,

but she wants her CUP CUP CUP!

Milk to Greta is like crack concaine to an addict.

I seriously need to keep a cow in my backyard.

70/365

2010-03-18T11:21:00.002-05:00

03.11.10

Greta and her little friend, Dominic.

He kept smothering her with kisses,

to the point where he'd grab her neck and pull her close to him.

She wanted none of that.

She'd rather drive her car.

Here, though, she appeased him somewhat

by blowing him a kiss.

69/365

2010-03-18T11:18:00.002-05:00

03.10.2010

My girl.

68/365

2010-03-10T08:16:00.002-06:00

03.09.10

This is what a lifetime of

unorganized photographs looks like.

I'm currently enrolled in Stacy Julian's Library of Memories class

at Big Picture Scrapbooking.

The objective is to stop being stressed about scrapping,

to stop trying to play "keep-up" and instead,

scrap your photos in a meaningful way.

The idea is to take photographs and record the memories.

Not every single photo.

(Which is what I had been doing before. Hence, Greta's 9 albums...)

Luckily, I've had my photos organized for the most part,

so this part of the course isn't too daunting.

Unfortunately, I'm about a month behind on class assignments

since I was out of commission for a bit

when hit with strep throat and being exhausted

from the first trimester of pregnancy.

Trying to get up-to-speed now.

And also learning to TAKE LESS DAMN PHOTOS.

67/365

2010-03-10T07:32:00.004-06:00

03.08.10

Sometimes she's just not in the mood for affection.

She's so like a cat.

She's so like her mom. ;-)

66/365

2010-03-10T07:27:00.002-06:00

03.07.10

Here's Greta, in her favorite place of late:

next to her daddy on the couch.

It's pretty darn cute.

Oh, she loves him.

Have you ever seen such a serious child?

She always looks so contemplative.

I'd give a penny for her thoughts any day.

65/365

2010-03-10T07:23:00.002-06:00

3.06.10

My mom reading to Greta.

This is where Greta gets her red hair.

It's where I got my quirkiness.

Before this day, I hadn't seen her smile in so long.

I kind of forgot what it looked like.

Sometimes people die and you forget the sound of their voice

or you fear that you're going to.

Sometimes people die, and you try so desparately to recall

every little feature of their face and their hands.

She is alive, and sometimes I feared that

I'd forget what she looked like when she smiled.

It was good to see it again.

64/365

2010-03-09T14:49:00.002-06:00

03.05.10

Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh.

At last.

I purchased an SLR camera!

I really love taking photos,

and the point & shoot was giving me a headache.

Greta moves too quickly to capture any moments.

I like to say those photos taken with the point & shoot

are "artsy" but the truth is, they're off centered, blurry, etc.

because I can't get the kid to sit still.

So I broke down and bought this.

I'd researched cameras for A LONG TIME.

I finally bit the bullet, and seriously,

my hands shook the entire time.

I'd saved my pennies for this splurge,

and even though I was really excited about the purchase,

handing over so much dinero made me quite anxious.

Let's hope the quality of my photos soon improve, right?

63/365

2010-03-09T14:42:00.002-06:00

03.04.10

These days, Greta is very into imitating.

Which, is cute, but it also makes you watch yourself.

Fuck and shit are slowly working

their way out of my vocabulary.

And you can't pick your nose at free-will.

Because SHE is WATCHING

and will soon start doing it herself.

Here's Greta with my velcro rollers in her hair.

I put them in mine, and she wanted them in hers.

3.3.10 -- 62/365

2010-03-08T21:28:00.002-06:00

3.1.10 - 60/365

2010-03-08T21:27:00.003-06:00

My honey.

3.2.10 -- 61/365

2010-03-08T21:27:00.002-06:00

2.28.10 - 59/365

2010-03-08T21:26:00.001-06:00

It melts my heart to see

how much Greta loves her daddy.

They're such good buddies these days.

Here they are watching Saturday morning cartoons.