Lists

I've joined the ranks of Pinterest. Whatever spare moments my life used to contain, they are gone now. Ha! But it has made me want to get cracking on some house projects. I've been getting better about making lists for myself to keep track of all the things I need to do. I do it at work, and I've been making house cleaning lists for my days at home with Tris. It works pretty well, although I've noticed that everytime I accomplish something NOT on the list, I feel serious frustration at not being able to cross it off or erase it. Sometimes I write it down, just so I can cross it off. I feel more productive that way.

Here's a quick list of house projects I'd like to start or finish this summer.

Fix the uneven front step- no budget
take the fake turf off the step and clean the concrete- no budget
evict Mr. Chipmunk- $15
plant a front flower bed (shade loving plants essential!) $50
plant a beautiful, welcoming flower pot for front step $25
Fence the back yard- $2,000 budget
Stay on top of the veggie garden in the back yard- no budget
Reset the paving stones into a walking path around the side of the house- no budget
Consider and budget for changes to deck.

Tear up and replace carpeting in living room, front entrance and hallway.
decorate T's room- $200 budget
Fix lazy corner in living room- no budget
Re-do and organize the laundry room - $150 dollar budget
Consider and budget for changes to the kitchen.

Find sturdy chairs to go with our dining room table. -$300
Refinish the bakery chair- $25-40
Frame the mirror we took off the wall in the bathroom and hang in the living room. $25-40
Look at replacement options for drapes in living room.

Ruby Giant Crocus

I have taken a sick day today. Brett and the little guy are hanging out with his visiting family, so for the first time since Tris was born I have an empty house all day and orders to relax. I stepped outside to take a few shots of the Ruby Giant crocuses that have just started blooming in the last couple of days. There's tulips too, but they'll bloom later, if they escape the small burrowing creature that apparently likes to eat flower bulbs.

I had planned to plant a whole border of crocus and tulips along the front stoop, but when I found the little chipmunk tunnels I stopped. I'm surprised as many of them made it as did. The rest of the bulbs I planted in a beautiful black pot and kept sheltered in the garage. A few weeks ago I noticed that it had been thoroughly dug up by our resident mouse. Not sure how many of the remaining bulbs survived the mouse attack, but I'm on the warpath now for rodentia. Anyone know a reliable fairly humane way to discourage chipmunks from living under your front step?

In any case, this is what is left: a few gorgeous crocuses blooming in my yard. Hiya, Spring! Stick around, won't you?

My dogs are barking...

Long day downtown at the Marathon today. We left the house this morning at 4:30 sharp, and got home around 6:00. Brett and Nicole ran 26.2 miles (and walked about three or four more to get around downtown) . They ran in honor of their Grandmother and each raised about a thousand dollars to support Alzheimer's research. Great goal, and a great effort by both of them. They did get separated around mile 13 and each struggled far more on their own than they would have if they had each other to talk to and keep each other motivated.
Christi, the baby and I guess we walked about 10 or 12 miles ourselves, trying to see them at the best spots for them to get snacks or encouragement. We saw them twice, and they saw us the second time. Then we saw Brett at mile 20 and missed Nicole. To accomplish this we walked very many blocks, braved the loop, two two El lines, went up to Old Town and down to China town. The kiddo spent a lot of time looking around, some time snacking, and some time napping and the whole time being a super trooper.
Now we are relaxing at home and I'm not looking forward to going to work tomorrow. Ugh.

Square One

Back again. It's been, what, a month or two?

Brett, T-man, Honus, Chester, Abby and I now live in an actual house which we own. We own the dirt outside, the cathedral ceilings in the living room, the noisy and inefficient dishwasher plugging away at our dinner dishes. We moved in August 31st and have been working on unpacking and making it home since then. The former owner was an older lady named Bernice, and we think of her often as we clean things up, and make repairs and alterations.

The living room wallpaper came down and we painted it a warm apricoty peach. I was going for parchment, but I do like the color we wound up with. The Besta wraps around the wall and hides the 80s era fireplace. In the bathroom, Brett changed out Bernice's old handheld shower sprayer for a cheap-and-cheerful $3 showerhead from Target. I couldn't be happier with it. He also removed the handrail for the bathtub and the splash guard. Then he took the overwhelming 4 foot by 3 foot mirror off the wall, pried out the medicine cabinet mounted in the wall to the right of the sink, patched the hole, spackled and sanded the marks where the mirror mastic was left on the wall and picked a beautiful denim blue color. We painted, put up a new white framed mirror/medicine cabinet, set our linens and shower curtain up and I love that room. It's probably my favorite room in the house right now!

The little guy is doing great, growing strong and healthy after a trip to the doctor for a checkup. He rolls over often, sits up and babbles with us, grins when we get his bedtime story out, giggles when his Dad blows raspberries on his belly and laughs when we laugh, which is usually right after he has an amazing spit up or ill timed fart. I worry what that might be teaching him... He's in his first week of sleep training, which I know is a sensitive issue on the interwebs. Personally, I think it's the best thing to happen to our family in a long time. We have a set bedtime and a good bedtime routine of personal hygiene, pjs, snack, book, and saying goodnight to everyone, then he lays down in his crib and stays there until he falls asleep.

He had no problem sleeping from 8:00-4:30 at about 2 months old, as long as we were in the room with him, but he's almost always cried at least a few minutes before falling asleep. In the beginning it could be an hour of constant screaming waiting for him to fall asleep. Even when he was sleeping his best he would cry for five to fifteen minutes in our arms. When we moved into the new house and he had his own bedroom, sleeping through the night was over. He would wake up every hour or hour and a half and cry, so I also got up every hour and a half and fed him until he fell back asleep. We could get him to fall asleep after fifteen minutes of crying, but just setting him into his crib would immediately wake him even from a deep sleep. Eventually this was so exhausting, I would just nurse him to sleep in our bed and he would stay there with me. If I left he would wake up, so we had the same bedtime most nights.

I was glad he was content, but I was miserable going to bed at 8:00 every night. I never got anything done around the house, or spent time with my husband, or had a time to myself to write a blog or do some knitting. The sleep I did get was tense and uncomfortable as I snuggled around my baby, to protect him from anyone rolling around in bed. I had a lot of practice side sleeping like this while pregnant, but it wasn't ever really relaxing. Between waking every hour or two to nurse and not sleeping deeply between feedings I'm afraid I was rather miserable to be around. After a month of this, getting the Dr.'s encouragement to try sleep training has been a huge relief.

Now we do our bedtime routine and he lays down in his own bed. He always cries, but after five or ten minutes (with some reassurance from us after five that we hear him and love him and checked to make sure he's ok, but now is time for him to sleep) he sleeps and sleeps well until four am or so. We're teaching him to sleep without us, and I think everyone is sleeping better. He sleeps more calmly, we sleep more comfortably. It's awesome.

I'm not sure if it will translate into more blogging or knitting, but I'm going to at least keep the kitchen clean and snuggle on the couch with Brett.

Upcoming projects:
Mark out garden bed for 2012 veggies.
Knit T a pair of mittens.
Organize front closet.
Plan for Christmas!

three weeks and a bit

turns out it's getting better. I'm still entirely on baby time, so the hour of the day means almost nothing. 3 am on the clock now doesn't mean the same thing that it did a month ago. Instead of, "it's the middle of the night; why am I awake?" it means, "The baby is hungry." breakfast lunch and dinner happen if and when I can set the baby down for a half hour. It is now legal to nap at any hour of the day. Showers and teeth brushing are no longer a morning routine. But we're making it work and I'm getting sleep and getting help and occasionally getting out of the house. Giving up on old routines without giving up on the things that help me feel normal and happy has been very important to feeling better.

But when i get to see Brett and Tris snuggling on the couch, watch him fall asleep with a full tummy, take him for a walk in the stroller, or see our families' faces light up when they see him I know that he is worth any amount of stress and frustration.

Two weeks

I was going to talk about how amazing my husband and baby are, as they lay snuggling on the couch next to me. But then The Child burped an impressive amount of milk all over Brett and the couch.

Ah, the joys of fatherhood!

Brett's mom has been here for a few days, helping with the baby, and it's been great for me. Brett and I managed to have a date yesterday and went to see X-Men. It was wonderful. Today the power of the moms combined and with a fantastic gift certificate from my mom and babysitting from Christi, I got myself a fancy haircut. Probably the first time I've brought a picture to a stylist and left with exactly that cut. She did a great job and was very sweet.

Having a baby does a number of your self esteem. I think I'm evening out a little bit, but I found myself sobbing at the mall last week looking for a good nursing bra. Between being tired, feeling physically not like myself, and feeling like I wasn't doing anything right as a mom, I spent a lot of time weepy the first week. Having a stranger tell you how good you look, how nice your hair is, how nice your skin is, is really really lovely.

I've also had a ton of support at home. Mom is over often, cuddling her grandbaby and telling me I'm doing good. Christi ran all over town on errands for us, and helped us get up and out of the house. Most importantly, Brett has been amazing. When I'm crying because I've been feeding the baby for the last two hours and he's STILL HUNGRY, he sits with me and tells me he loves me and that we can give him a bottle and still be good parents. He keeps my spirits up with encouraging words, super help, and even a bouquet of roses. I couldn't ask for more!

Baby-riffic

So what's new with me? Oh, you know, not much. Except everything. I'm a Mom now to a beautiful baby boy who is, at this 4:07 AM moment, sleeping soundly in his chair next to the couch. Brett is taking a much needed and deserved sleep break, after taking charge of feedings and diapers for eight hours while I got something like a normal night of sleep.

I've been told to sleep when the baby does, which is great advice, and something I hope to do more of. The Child has been asking to eat about every hour or so and wiping himself out after a half hour of nursing, giving me all of 30 minutes to try to fall asleep. And it's hard to really let yourself relax when you're primed and wakeful at the first hint of a fuss or wimper. Knowing Brett is there to care for him has helped me keep my sanity and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.

My plan has been to keep a written journal for my boy to read when he's older about my pregnancy and his first months. I don't plan to turn this blog into an all-baby all the time channel, any more than it was all about Brett's life after we got married. Of course, these two fellas are hugely important in my life and for a while I'm going to be pretty focused on them. But knowing I'm going back to work (shortly!) and will be gone for ten hours at a time doing my own thing means I'm just that much more eager to gobble up every moment of this on-demand motherhood experience.

Thursday was a pretty normal day for me. I got up at 7:30, dressed for work, spent the day working on projects, getting things set for my summer seasonal, and took time to get my seasonal situated so that he would be comfortable taking over for me when I left for a month. I felt agitated and remarked on Facebook (something I rarely do) how hard it was to relax. I was impatient for the baby to come, "tuned up" awaiting the first contraction, or, more embarrassingly, my water breaking. I was on edge, and had been for a while, but I joked on the walk up to our vehicles that now that Ed was up to speed, maybe tomorrow I would have the baby. Maybe he was courteously just waiting for that.

I had made last minute plans to have dinner with my Dad before he moves out of town and we talked about how great it would be if the baby were to come early so that Dad could have a chance to meet him. I ate a delicious sausage, roasted pepper and pesto pizza, said goodbye to Dad and we headed back home to watch the Bulls game. Unfortunately, it was a miserable defeat at the end of the fourth quarter by the Heat. I headed to bed at 11:00, ready to head to work the next day.

Instead, I woke up around 11:30 with pretty painful stomach cramps. I figured the delicious meal was too much for my tummy, and spent some time hunched over in the bathroom. The pain in my gut was intense and constant, accompanied by continual sharp pain in my pelvis. The doctors had identified this feeling, which had occasionally shot like fire through one hips or the other as ligament stretching, but this was pretty solid agony. After about a half hour of this, I grabbed the stop watch from the hospital overnight back and tried to time the stronger waves of cramping pain. Because everything seemed to blend into one big mass of unhappiness (which I was still attributing to diet) it was hard to tell when one started and stopped, but I was timing things at well over a minute. I finally woke Brett up, crying, telling him something was wrong. He called the hospital who asked me a bunch of questions I gaspingly tried to answer. They suggested I come in to get checked. I knelt over the edge of the couch while Brett took out Honus and grabbed our bags, my purse, my toothbrush, everything he could remember we would want.

I remember he asked me something outside by the car, to which I snappily replied, "Let's just GO!" or something to that effect. Apparently I said it louder than necessary, as our neighbors heard it and figured out I was probably in labor. Poor Brett; he took such good care of me!

We made out way on deserted 1:00 AM streets towards the hospital, listening to Garth Brooks and Brett coaching me through deep breathing. The difference was that in practice, there had been painless moments between contractions, spaces to rest and catch your breath, hope to cling to when the pain was unbearable. For me, the whole thing was unbearable. I remember screeching to a stop at a light I could tell Brett was thinking about running, being pleased with Brett's musical choice, and commenting that one of three things could happen at the hospital: they would tell me I was fine and to go home, they would tell me I was almost complete and we would have a baby in minutes, or they would say I was in labor, but barely started, and I would beg them for drugs. Obviously, I had my preference.

When we got there and checked in, I was so dazed and confused by the pain that I could barely undress. We worked with two nurses in triage who got me monitored, stuck with the IV and did an internal exam (agony!) and pronounced me nearly 4 cm. I said "Thank GOD!" that we were in labor, and immediately determined that I wanted the epidural. Brett held my hand, kept me connected to something positive and calm. He got me a barf bucket when that previously wonderful pizza made a second, third, and fourth appearance and then still let me breathe RIGHT INTO HIS FACE to get through the next wave of pain. Nurses kept asking me if the contraction was over, trying to work between them, and all I could say was that I didn't know. I still couldn't tell the contraction pain from the constant pain.

We walked down to the labor and delivery room where I was sat in bed (ouch). The nurse was very pleasant, but not very helpful. Brett asked if I wanted to be talked out of the drugs, but I didn't. He told me to breathe, demonstrating and coaching me. At one point, I switched my out breath to a low moan, and the nurse admonished me to breathe. I charmingly replied, in Brett's direction,"THAT'S. NOT. HELPING!" but tried to do as I was told.

The lovely anesthesiologist came and explained what he would do, told me about the epidural, while I gasped out affirmations that yes I understood, yes I wanted, yes yes yes to an end to the pain I had been in since I had tried to go to bed. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, arched my back and waited for him to work between contractions. Brett sat facing me, and looking into his eyes kept me from drowning in the pain. He was amazing. At this point, sitting up, I opened my jaw and moaned my way through the next handful of contractions. Maybe they were getting stronger, but now I could pick them out from the background pain, when they came, and I leaned over and moaned, I could feel things opening, working, progressing. Maybe if that had happened sooner I would have been able to forgo the drugs, but I'm glad I didn't.

The little stick in the spine was no problem, hardly felt through everything else and when they adjusted the medication to suit me, the background pain faded and the contractions were easier. The shuddering slowed, and I got my sense of humor back. They checked me again (pressure, but no pain), said I was 8cm (nearly there) and we waited for the doctor to come look at me. Mom came at this point and it was great to have her support there too. I floated through the next while, sleeping on and off, and when the doctor came at 4:00 AM, he said I was ready to go, but that my water was still intact. He suggested breaking it to encourage the urge to push, but I elected to wait another half hour, since things had moved so fast so far, I thought it might happen on its own. We called him back at 4:30 and he broke my water at 4:45. At 5:00 I started pushing.

Brett monitored my contractions, which I could hardly feel except as a little more pressure than usual, and told me when to push. He counted through my breaths, and I crushed his hand as I tried to bear down and move things along. The sun rose. The nurse was not only unhelpful, she seemed to delay things. I felt my pushes were stronger when I breathed out during them, but she said I had to hold my breath. My back was on fire and I longed for a change of position, some Tylenol, anything to relieve that burning sensation every time I pushed. I looked at Brett and knew I couldn't deliver this way. I was sure the baby was stuck and I was so tired. He told me I could, that I WAS doing it, that I didn't have a choice. So I clung to him for dear life, screamed, and pushed some more.

I pushed through the end of the shift (7:30) and when the next nurse came on, she said I could breathe out. By 7:45, she had called the doctor and I was getting prepped for delivery. Two or three pushes after the doctor arrived and there was a new person in the room! He cried once or twice.

They put him on my belly right away and then he was so quiet, staring up at me with big blue eyes. Brett cut the cord. The nurse cleaned him dry, measured and weighed him while the doctor took care of me. When we were both ok and fixed up, the nurse brought him over for his first meal. He latched really well right away and nursed about 45 minutes in one shot. Amazing!

All things considered, it was a quick delivery, especially for a first. I went in almost 100% effaced and got to 4cm in about two hours on my own. Another 6cms in another four hours. Three hours of pushing. About 20 minutes of sleep in those nine hours, which is more than Brett got.

He's healthy, I'm healthy and now I know what to expect for the next time. (you never know!)

House Hunters

Brett and I are watching The Bulls play the Pacers! It's been bringing back fond memories of watching the Dream Team win six championships back in the day. I couldn't tell you anything about any of those games, but I remember them providing fun evenings.

We went to visit two new houses today in the Great House Hunt. Having put two offers on houses and being twice disappointed, I have these words of wisdom to offer the world:

When you think you know how buying a house works because you've watched House Hunters, you are wrong. That's the show where they take someone to look at three properties, all of which are beautiful, in the right price range, and empty. The buyer then decided between the property with the great yard, the one in walking distance of the beach, or the one with a home theater in the basement. They choose the house, low-ball the asking price, and move in the next week.

Yeah.

That is not what this is like.

I'm sure, like the job here KCF, that things will work out for us...eventually. It just adds stress that I'm not dealing with well right now in the first place.

wee!

I finished the Sprout baby sweater. I kind of love it.



I had some scraps left over so I whipped up a little hat to match. I could probably get a wee little pair of mittens out of the remainder.




I love the colors and the buttons are perfect. We're all set now for fall trips to the forest preserve and the museum!

In other news, Brett and I are working on buying a house, next weekend is Sheep Shearing on the farm, the weekend after that is Easter, the weekend after that is the plowing event and the weekend after that is my new Mother's Day program. The week after that is our big week of intensive school programs, then I'll be training a seasonal to fill in for me and the weekend after that would be a fine time for a baby to put in an appearance. I think I'll need the break...

quickly

Ok. I'm getting over the lamp. It really isn't a big huge deal, so I'm going to blame my weeping and raging on the insane hormones.

The baby sweater is coming along nicely. The body and one sleeve are done and I love the colors. I'll show you when it's done. Should be soon!

Lights out.

Remember my awesome Ikea lamp, the short egg shaped one with the frosted cherry blossoms on it? That looked so modern and cool and delicate and made me feel like my house looked more like what I want it to someday look like? The one that made me have a long debate with myself at the store about whether or not I could afford to splurge twenty bucks for a silly piece of lighting and decided to be responsible? The lamp that my mom surprised me with for my birthday because she knew I loved it?

Well, one of the cats knocked it off the dresser today and it shattered. A lot. As in, unrepairable.

I was, I still am, so upset! I must be on some weird hormonal kick, because intellectually I know it's just a LAMP for goodness sake and although it was special, it is replaceable. It's not like one of Brett's statues or one of Mom's quilts or anything like that. But it was so NICE and it made me happy to have it in my apartment. Like I might aspire to have beautiful things in my house, something that I had chosen just because I loved it, without compromising or finding a cheaper look alike.

This is why I can't have nice things. Ugh. So unhappy...

What sound does Shamu make?

Doctor's visit today to check on the progress of the baby. The little one is healthy and growing strong.

Do not attempt to adjust your monitor! No, I have not swallowed a basketball! That's all me and the newbie.

A successful trip to the yarn shop today yielded three lovely skeins of fluffy cuddly cotton by Classic Elite Yarns called "Sprout" (Ravelry link). I liked the texture and thought it would be a nice baby sweater yarn. I don't usually enjoy working with cottons, but I couldn't find a wool at the store that I thought was both soft and sweet enough for a bebe and durable too. So cotton it is! It's a little bit heavier than I was looking for, but I can work with that.


I chose pale grey and cheerful persimmon to work. Since I've never really bought awesome buttons and that's a shame, I splurged for six cream colored antler buttons for this little piece of awesome. They are round and sensible but kind of wild in a subtle way. Perfect for spring toddles through the woods with Mom and Dad. When he outgrows the little version, I will feel no qualms about salvaging the buttons for a new "big boy" sweater.


I want him to have a nice sturdy sweater for his first fall and into his first spring, so I'll probably make a 6-9 month size. It should have classic lines and be easy to get into and out of. What does the peanut gallery think about the Baby Sophisticate? The main body would be the grey and the collar, button band, garter hem and cuffs would be the persimmon color.

I've been chugging away at the Tamarix blanket since finding out about the baby and am a little over half way. The yarn is the lovely Serendipity Tweed from Brown Sheep. They make such nice stuff! It's a mostly cotton yarn plied with a strand of wool for a little extra warmth and softness. It's starting to wear on my hands.


The pattern I'm using is graphic and neat. Unfortunately it was a little bit confusing at the beginning. Definitely the kind of technique you need to see to understand. The written instructions in the magazine on how to join each new mitered square while working are unclear and leave out pretty key information. I looked for help online and found some videos that the pattern's author posted but I don't think you could perform the technique with the directions as written.

I'm at the point in the project where the charm has dissipated. The yarn is nice, but not as sexy as it was when I fondled it at the yarn store. The first blush of casting on and getting to know the ins and outs of the new pattern has faded. Even the pleasure of working through the difficulties has come and gone. Now I'm slogging through lots and lots and lots of garter stitch. At least there are frequent color changes to keep things interesting.

As much as I like the color changes, I have decided I'm no longer really digging on the color combos. I'm going to try overdying the whole thing, probably with a blue. Dyeing the cotton may prove interesting. I'll practice on some yarn samples before I drop the whole giant thing into a dye bath.

closed...

The yarn store was closed when I got there. I tried to call the number on the gift card, but it was disconnected. I returned home and called the (different) number listed on the website but there was no answering machine/ voice mail box to leave a message with.

I'm a little baffled that you wouldn't be open at 1:30 on a Monday, wouldn't leave a note that, "the yarn shop will be closed today. Sorry for any inconvenience!" or wouldn't at least have a way for customers to contact you. I know it's a small operation, but still...

I'm probably just grumpy that I didn't get to fondle yummy baby yarns...

Waiting...

It is not warm outside yet. It blows and the wind is chilly. I still wear my wool when venturing outside, though I will swear up and down that the baby sucks all the warmth into my belly.

It's time to think about Spring though. At the farm, we're already planning events six months out, and hard at work on those coming in the next month or so. The maple trees are tapped and the weather is great for collecting lots of sweet sap to boil into syrup. It reminds me of New York, where suddenly buckets and plastic tubing showed up on someone's sugar bush. This time last year Honus and I were about half way through out 5K training program. I remember running my favorite route in the late daylight, snow still heavy on the ground and enjoying the damp smell of the air and the warmth of the sunlight.

At work, the farm has turned to mud and I just got my first seed order for the kitchen garden. I was very careful about the varieties and am looking forward to writing the garden manual for 2011. I'm always optimistic about a garden. Someday I will have time to spend the morning hours weeding and harvesting my own plot of dirt. I'm thinking about planting a little box of herbs at the apartment to share with the neighbors. I never harvest enough to keep herb plants productive, and how fun would it be to have an itty bitty herb garden for our little community?

I'm back!

I'm back to the world of the computer-abled! After over a month of being without the machine, Brett and I got it back last night.

I got pretty used to not having it and using Brett's i-pod to check email when I absolutely needed to. Every now and then there would be a moment where I missed it: looking up movie show times, looking for directions and train schedules, search for recipes, that sort of thing. But mostly I just didn't think about it too much. Now that it's back, I'm not sure what to do with myself.

The hard drive crashed, which was covered by the warranty I had purchased, but the data recovery was not. We bought a massive external hard drive and the guys at Geek Squad saved as much as they could. Haven't check that yet to see what they got. I also had to order the system back up disks to restore the operating system and now need to reload Microsoft Office too. But at least everything is fixed now! We even got a new battery and DC cord when we sent it off so hopefully the battery life will be a little longer than zero.

I'm looking forward to surfing the web for cute baby stuff this afternoon. I've been keeping a paper journal of thoughts and experiences, but I probably won't put much about the baby online. I'd like to keep things a little more private. Maybe that will change with time; we'll have to see.

Icky

We went to the doctor yesterday for Brett, who has been diagnosed with H1N1, poor boy. When we went to the doctor for me today we were disappointed to learn that the ultrasound tech wasn't there today. I must have goofed up the schedule because I was pretty sure that today was when we would find out boy or girl, but no such luck. We'll go back next week to find out, I hope. We heard a strong heartbeat, and the doc said that although I'm not gaining weight, the baby is growing just like it should. So that's good. (Also, I am huge of belly...)

The doctor scolded us for not getting flu shots and when I mentioned that I don't have quite the same symptoms as Brett, he called me illogical for thinking I wasn't going to get the flu too. Then prescribed Tamaflu, without actually examining me or asking what symptoms I do have. What if I have bronchitis instead? Should I be taking drugs if I don't have to?

I appreciate that I don't have any medical training. That I don't know anyone who has recently had a baby. But I really hate feeling patronized and it's happened more than once. I mean, yes, I'm sure I have some silly/ stupid questions. This is the first time I've had a baby after all. But I don't think that means I should be made to feel stupid. If I question why I should get a flu shot I don't think the answer should be, "you need to have one; you're pregnant." Sometimes I feel like I'm bothering the doctors. I just wish I was treated more routinely as if I have choices, as if it were up to me how to have my baby. Instead of just a passive baby factory. Am I just being sensitive? It makes me feel icky.

Year End

Happy New Year all!

2010 was a pretty stellar year for me, as such things go. I got to work at the Baseball Hall of Fame as a teacher, which bumped up by street cred with the kids by a significant percentage. Then I was offered another job within spitting distance of my family doing exactly the thing I've been trained to do with ease.

In August I got married to my wonderful husband and I can't believe how different every day is now.

I had some bumps, some completely unexpected dark points, but for the most part, I would take 2010 over and over again.

I hope your 2011 is filled with joy and love and good fortune. I can't wait to see what this year will bring!

countdown

Almost ready for Christmas, friends! I made a spreadsheet, which was a great idea. I don't feel behind or like I'm scrambling to get things last minute. A lot of it is even wrapped and ready to pack up. This weekend I'll finish up the last bits and we'll be ready to go to over the river and through the woods, as it were.

Go me!

Ho Ho Ho

How do ya'll feel about Santa Claus?

At my house, when I was a kid, I seem to remember getting most of my presents from Mom, Dad, other relatives, and a couple really sweet presents from Santa Claus. We opened presents at my parents' house on Christmas Eve during my formative years but starting a couple of days before Christmas Eve, presents began to pile up under the tree.

I recall a Christmas Eve at a very young age waiting for Santa to come so we could thank him(?). Mom convinced us after waiting all day that we should take a break, so that evening we left cookies and milk just in case while Mom, Paul and I drove around the neighborhood to look at luminaria and Christmas lights. Dad stayed behind (in case Santa came by I imagine, though this part is fuzzy). When we got home, Dad was fast asleep, the cookies had been eaten, the milk had been drunk, and there was a pile of new presents that hadn't been there when we left. We must have been sleepy and equipped with very poor sense of the passage of time because we didn't question how Dad had fallen so deeply asleep so quickly.

I couldn't tell you any moment where I found out that Santa wasn't "real." I think I probably always knew, the same way I knew about the Tooth Fairy, but Mom and Dad never made a big deal out of Santa, so I didn't feel lied to or mislead when I let go of him.

I can recall two very early influences on my concept of Santa: Sesame Street and Peter Pan the musical. In the Sesame Street Christmas Special, Big Bird is very concerned with whether or not Santa is real. He waits up on the roof in the snow to catch Santa coming down the little apartment chimney. He never sees Santa, but someone brings presents and leaves foot prints in the snow. Peter Pan is memorable because it ingrained in me the idea that magical things can be real but only if you believe in them. Remember when Tinkerbell drinks the poison to save Peter and everyone has to clap to prove they believe in Fairies and she gets better? Well wouldn't I be a jerk if I didn't clap because I was too cool and I KILLED a FAIRY!? Better safe than sorry. And Tink always got better, so I must be doing the right thing.

As I got older, Santa became the name that appeared on "anonymous" gifts. You were always pretty sure who was responsible, but when confronted, the giver would usually look to the heavens and say, "It must have been Santa!" I still think that's fun.

I don't know if it was my mom who said it, or if I heard it somewhere else, but a mom said that she wanted her kids to know that she was responsible for the presents, not some unknown personage they have no relationship outside of Christmas. I think it's good for kids to be grateful to the appropriate people for the gifts they receive, so I'm all for putting names on the gift tags.

But if my kids want to believe in Santa, I'm totally cool with that. I don't intend to lie to them, but I don't see a problem with a little suspension of disbelief. Historically, the story starts with St. Nicolas. He was a good and generous man who gave gifts to people who had nothing (dowries for poor girls being key among them). He brought hope for a bright future and a little bit of holiday cheer to cold houses. I don't think there's anything wrong with having faith in that spirit, believing that it changes things for the better, and bringing it into your own home.

I do think it's just as likely that my kids will wind up getting a totally cool toy from Batman or other "imaginary" figures though.

Grateful

The bread is rising by the stove, the games are picked out and ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa's house, I'm watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on the TV, and I'm about to take a nice long hot shower.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

There's so much to be thankful for this year, it's hard to know where to begin.

I'm thankful that my new job brings me challenges and a sense of doing something worthwhile with myself.

I'm thankful for the fact that I live close enough to family that we've gotten to spend so much time with our loved ones.

I'm thankful for all the wonderful people who took time from their lives to help us celebrate our wedding in August.

I'm thankful for my wonderful amazing husband.

I'm thankful for the opportunities that have come my way this year, for the love I've received, for the new beginnings that Brett and I are creating together as a family.