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.

purchase power

Dear everyone who is trying to convince me that buying things will not only make me happy but that not buying things will make me a bad person,

Kindly knock that noise off.

Thank you,
Kate

I Heard it Through the Grapevine

Quick check in.

Was reading my wedding sister "Bride Sans Tulle" just now and she wrote a lovely piece about keeping your community connected to your marriage. As in, those of us who saw wedding magazines and said, "This is not what I'm experiencing, or reflective of who I am," are going to have the same kinds of struggles looking at "typical" ideals of married life, especially newlywed life.

I was recently involved in a conversation regarding a former coworker's recent decision to seek a divorce, just a year after being married. The overwhelming viewpoint of those in the conversation ran, "Everyone knew it wouldn't work from the beginning! We've been telling her this since before she even got married!" From their description of the situation, which was graphic in its gossipyness, he was a bad egg who was only going to bring her shame and disappointment.

Honestly, I felt bad being a part of the conversation. I wouldn't want someone talking about my personal life like that. I mean, we worked together for 6 months, like, four years ago. We were the same age, with similar goals and backgrounds. We probably would have been better friends if I weren't such a hermit or we'd spent more time together. I identify with her.

One of the big signs that the marriage was doomed was that they weren't happy together.

A co-worker turned to me and said, "I mean, that's how it works right? Newlywed bliss?"

And I replied, "Some days." The truth, for me, is that like most things in life, you've got days that are wonderful, sunny happy days. Brett and I go to the Field Museum downtown. We cuddle on the couch to watch John Adams. I cook and he cleans and we take the dog for a walk and buy groceries and all that stuff.

But some days are cloudy. Some parts of some days are pretty darn stormy. We have never been a couple that thought fighting meant the end of anything though. We're always going to come back to each other, maybe after a nice long walk around the block, apologize for hurt feelings, and feel stronger than we did before. I think that's normal for us.

So the newlywed bliss thing? Let's cut each other some slack here and realize that even though you just got through your wedding, you still have work and chores and life to deal with and that stuff is going to make you grumpy occasionally. Just the way life goes.

When a newlywed tells you that she's been fighting with her spouse, don't chalk that up to imminent doom! If you were at that wedding (coworkers!) if you supported it with well wishes from afar, well, it's your job to help us remember why we got married, help us seek resolution rather than dissolution. Stick up for our partner to us and help us choose every day to be with that person, even when "love" is the last thing we say we feel. Still, I'm all for a good vent session now and then, and I would never tell someone truly unhappy or uncommitted to their relationship or facing an uncommitted partner to stay in a marriage "just because."

I also want to point out that more often than the blissful honeymoon part of the glossy magazine image of marriage, I see the helpful advice articles, and the TV sitcom families where the husband is assumed to be lazy, inconsiderate, or annoyed by the things important to the wife (matching embroidered hand towels, potpourri, and shopping) while the wife is portrayed as alternately nagging, oblivious or dismissive of the husband's interests (sports, sex, and snacks). Any reaching across this gulf must somehow be manipulative (sex in exchange for shopping, for example).

I know that's not how I want my relationship with my husband to look. Any good examples of happy healthy balanced marriages in modern culture that you guys can think of?

Goin to the Chapel...

Hi all,

Last time we talked, I was recounting the amazing experience of spending the day before the wedding relaxing, primping and chillin with my homegirls. Then getting up at dawn on the big day to visit the farmer's market for flowers. (So so so highly suggested!)

Brett and I recently recieved our photos from our amazing photography team Libby and Joe of Joe Crimmings Photography. I really can't say enough nice things about these two. They got every important moment that we'll want to remember forever and some lovely family and personal portraits. Joe's got a great style that made the portraits look bronzed and vintage without being stodgy or corny. I can't wait to have some of his art up on the wall. I would love to work with them again and will recommend them to anyone asking for a photographer in the Des Moines Area. Go check them out, they're awesome...

I'd like to share some photos they took, my favorite ones, in chronological order, up to the church service.
My Maid of Honor, Kate, was completely supportive on the day and the whole weekend. She helped me keep my cool when I was freaking out a little in the dressing room. Can't imagine the weekend without her!

Kate and Nicole helped get me all set for the ceremony. I wonder if part of the nerves of the wedding come from not really doing anything NORMAL all day, like dressing yourself. People fuss over you, fuss over the decorations, all that stuff. But it's also really exciting. It separates this day from other days in your life, which is cool.
The dress was a David's Bridal off-the-rack number which I never really had altered because it fit so well when I bought it. It was strapless which is not what I wanted, so I did ask my Aunt to add the little sleeves. I loved it right away, loved it more when Aunt Karen modified it, and loved it all day I got to wear it. I love it even more now that it has about two inches of dirt on the hem and tiny holes burned in the netting from the sparkler party we had at the end of the night.
The flowers are from the farmer's market and the festive bunting is from my Mom's sewing machine. I asked and she delivered perfectly. I love the buntings!

We got married at the Church of the Land at Living History Farms. My Grandparents were among the first to arrive. I love this shot of them walking up the boardwalk to the church.

More to come!

Wedding!

In the wake of my last post regarding my wedding to Brett, I'd like to offer another view. This is the way I really remember the day, the view I want to bind to my heart and carry with me to my office, to the grocery store, through every moment of my day. This view of my wedding lifts me up and fills me with bliss and hope and boundless love for my husband and all the wonderful people who were able to come and support our union.

To begin with, the time I got to spend with my favorite ladies before the big day was really great. Since we all live pretty darn far away from each other, hanging out isn't really an option. To have a whole weekend to do all my favorite things? What could be better?
We spent Friday afternoon at the spa getting our nails done.

I'd been saving up tip money at the bakery to afford this treat so I didn't feel even a tiny pang of guilt for indulging. What a great feeling to be surrounded by happy best friends and family, relaxing and feeling pampered! I warned Brett that now that I've gotten a taste for it, we might have to put a line in the budget for monthly pedicures.

One of the great things about the wedding was treating myself to looking and feeling good without indulging guilty feelings about it being a poor use of my time. I took long showers, wore fake eyelashes, got lots of labor intensive curls in my hair, pretty toes and fingers, and soft skin. It was like I didn't work at on a farm! I don't usually take that much care of myself and it was a fun change of pace.

The morning of the wedding Kate, Chelsea and I woke up just after dawn to meet Katie and head to the Des Moines farmer's market. Katie is a market pro and she knew just when and where to go to get the most beautiful flowers. She even brought a basket for us to use!

We got bouquets and perfect little zinnias for boutonnieres at the first stand. Would you like to guess what we paid the wonderful creative florists who hand selected flowers with shapes and colors we liked? If you guessed six dollars you would be guessing too high. For three bouquets and flowers for three bouts, we paid twenty dollars! The magazines and even online sources were preparing me to spend about two hundred dollars per bouquet, so I was ready to have the best day of my life at that point.

We went to a couple other flower stalls to buy other flowers for decorating the church and the reception. As we four girls walked around downtown Des Moines in the beautiful morning light with buckets of the most gorgeous flowers I could imagine I kept thinking how lucky I am and how excited I was for the day ahead.

Wedding Thoughts

In the last 21 days, lot of people who know me by varying degrees have asked how the wedding was. Lots of my friends who are roughly my age have asked how married life is.

I find my feelings about the later question are much simpler than the first one. Married life is great. It's not that much different than before, honestly, but now I know I've got a partner and that makes everything else feel more important, and more exciting. While we might not have a "honeymoon" period, so to speak, I'm still getting used to the idea of Brett not just being my best friend and companion for the day, or the week, but for the rest of our lives. Everything we do together now is an investment in that future. We still go to work, watch TV, and take the dog out, but right now, those little things feel nicer because they're really the building blocks of the rest of our lives. Going for a bike ride to the farmer's market down the road with my husband feels completely different than going with my fiance.

On a different note, the wedding was a strange day. I know I was supposed to feel blissful and peaceful and that all the stress was supposed to just melt away when I saw Brett at the end of the aisle. I know that people who didn't know the things I had planned didn't know if they went smoothly or not and didn't care one way or another. I also know that it was really really hard for me to let go of the stress and let go of the desire to have everything go smoothly. I keep telling people who ask that it was a great day. It really was, but I wish I had been able to be more present in the moment, instead of worrying about the next part of the day and whether it was going to be right when I got to it. And I feel guilty that that's how I remember it.

It was a little bit like going on vacation to a completely amazing place so wonderful you feel like you have to do as much as is humanly possible to take full advantage of it. But then you wind up feeling like you didn't get everything done and that you didn't get the full value of what you actually did do because you were so busy planning how to get to the Parthenon you forgot to enjoy the resturant you were eating at.

I will say that the best parts of the day were the less crazy parts where I wasn't thinking about the next part. Getting up early to buy flowers at the farmer's market with my friends was great, and having that project to work on with Karen and Chels helped keep me calm. I really enjoyed the quiet moment with my brand new husband in the buggy at the top of the hill, and holding on to him as we walked to the reception site, Joe and Libby our amazing photographers snapping away behind us. Talking with folks after dinner, lighting up the sparklers and playing bags in the dark. The parts of the day where I just got to relax and be me for a little while were great.

So my advice to brides everywhere? If you are a planner by nature, a manager by trade, or any kind of control freak, hire a day of coordinator, let them worry about it and get your bridal crew to run interference so no one asks you a single blinking question all day long. Your opinion on how to handle clearing the tables is not even vaguely as important as you enjoying your first meal with your spouse and dearly loved ones, so let someone else handle it. I was lucky that Chels did so much of that for me with no warning and little enough thanks, but even so no fewer than four people asked me how I wanted the tables cleared as I got a plate of food and sat down to eat. Hire someone competent who you trust then relax and be present with your spouse and your loved ones. It's not an opportunity we get often in life.

Looking back at the wedding I know it was beautiful, that it was full of people who came to wish us love and happiness, that it reflected Brett and myself (sometimes too much!) and that it brought us closer together. It set the stage for the life we're living now and for that I will always be thankful.

Week one

Today Brett and I are going to take a hike at nearby Waterfall Glen. It's the second day we've both had off together since our wedding eleven days ago, so we're going to get out and do something fun.

The wedding was awesome, though I'd like to wait a few more days before I really crack into writing about it. I've had some pretty strong and even conflicting emotions about it in the week since it happened, so I want to continue to let my thoughts about it formulate and settle in my head before I try to memorialize it on The Blog.

Suffice it to say, for now, that Brett and I are an extremely fortunate couple to have such wonderful generous people among our friends and family. There is no way we could have had such a lovely day without them. In Offbeat Bride (please treat yourself to this book if you are a bride in identity crisis) Ariel talked about wanting to have her wedding reflect the people who she cared about, instead of a commercialized idea of what a wedding was supposed to be. I'm very glad to say that everyone I worked with to organize the wedding was a pleasure to work with from the professionals Joni the caterer and Joe and Libby the photographers, to Chelsea and Aunt Karen who arranged all the flowers and decorated the church and reception site, to friends of my mom who stayed to the end of the party to help us clean up. I'm grateful to you all for everything you did for us and will be grateful every time I look back at pictures of how beautiful the day was.

We celebrated our one week anniversary with cake (Honus ate the leftover wedding cake we brought back from Iowa. Can't blame him. It was awesome!) and then ice cream.

We got a Kitchenaid stand mixer and ice cream churn attachment as wedding presents and a cookbook with collected LHF recipes from some farm friends, so we whipped up a batch of vanilla farms ice cream. I should have thought more carefully about the fact that the recipe makes enough for a 5 quart churn and ours is decidedly less than that. But we split the "batter" into two batches and now we have some waiting for us to churn tonight.

I added some fresh strawberries to mine for a little added umph and it was delicious.