Our Little Corner of the World

17 weeks

2012-02-04T20:39:00.012-05:00

Earlier this week I had to get out my belly bands (work pants are getting a little tight), and the maternity clothes came out of the basement this weekend.

Oh, how I forgot how much I HATE maternity jeans. They're worse than too-small tights, what with all the yanking and squatting and yuxting to keep them up.

And tonight, for the first time, we felt the little bugger. I felt the unmistakable scraping and poking for a few minutes before I called Brian over, doubting that he could feel from the outside what I felt from the inside. But wouldn't you know it, the little guy/girl wound up and gave a hearty punch/kick right into Brian's palm.

Last weekend Cayden proudly gave up his toddler bed and changing table/dresser in exchange for a brand-new big-boy bed, so the nursery furniture has transitioned into the peacock room.

Picture Pages: January

2012-01-21T16:35:00.000-05:00

14 weeks

2012-01-16T13:50:00.000-05:00

And daddy painted the nursery. Cayden is happy to tell anyone interested, "the baby's room is peacock."

He's insistent on a baby brother, although we keep telling him he would love a baby sister, too.

Picture Pages: Rounding out 2011

2012-01-07T15:23:00.000-05:00

The backstory, then 10 & 12 week photos

2012-01-02T15:12:00.001-05:00

After another frustrating ordeal getting here, we're on our way to #2.

We quit birth control in March and started trying in July, but my irregular periods kept us guessing again for a few months, until I succumbed to the temptation of charting and ovulation predictor kits. We had just about given up again (remember last time?), and I scheduled a consult with Hershey's reproductive endocrinologist in October.

I also got a +OPK on Oct. 14 (25 days into my cycle), but ended up in the ER with shortpants after a suspicious fall at school that day.

Long story short, I POAS Oct. 29, the morning of Katie and Brad's wedding, and got two lines. So later that day, on the way home from swimming lessons, we stopped to get a digital POAS, just to make sure.

So I called the RE on Monday, to see if the bloodwork from Oct. 29 read the same as my tests. Nope, the qualitative bloodwork said negative. So then I did a series of additonal POAS at the doc's request and started weekly ultrasounds/bloodwork on Nov. 4 to try to date this baby.

The official due date is July 14, but I think this baby is coming a week earlier, based upon my +OPK (even if ovulation was actually delayed by a few days due to the ER stress) and +POAS dates.

So, here are the first of the belly pics:

As compared to 10 weeks and 12 weeks last time around. Weight gain through the first trimester has been almost identical to the first round (3 pounds), but I'm sensing an earlier shape shift in the mid-section this time. And I'm already into my maternity bras from last time around (purchased at 22 weeks), so here's to hoping for no more shape shifting up top. :)

Since I'm so close in timing to the first pregnancy (due July 22; delivered July 28), I'm hoping my maternity clothes from last time will suffice, perhaps maybe with a few additional add-ons.

And here is one of the first shots of ruby #2. July's birthstone is ruby, so until we know if it's a boy or girl (yes, we're finding out, hopefully in February), I'm calling him/her Ruby 2.

Picture Pages: December

2011-12-31T12:16:00.000-05:00

Picture Pages: the one I accidentally put up too early

2011-12-28T21:05:00.002-05:00

Picture Pages: November

2011-12-04T19:32:00.001-05:00

Picture Pages - Fall Catch Up

2011-10-30T18:23:00.000-04:00

Picture Pages: Trick-or-Treat

2011-10-30T11:53:00.000-04:00

Still catching up on scrapping, but here are the most recent pages:

Picture Pages: Day out with Thomas

2011-10-18T20:27:00.002-04:00

Picture Pages: Lions trump Hawkeyes

2011-10-16T13:34:00.000-04:00

Picture Pages: Canada 2011

2011-10-11T21:19:00.000-04:00

We've got a little catching up to do. What can I say - a couple of really hard months at work, combined with building and moving into a house got me a little behind on scrapping.

But it was refreshing to return to the pictures and memories today and get one more chapter done.

Next up: Cayden's Day Out With Thomas, a visit to Lake Tobias, devoting the first week of move-in to setting up Cayden's spaces in the new house and a surprise trip to Penn State for a great game.

Stay tuned, I promise it won't be so long between posts next time.

Oh, and guess who got a new (kick-ass) camera for her 32nd birthday...

Picture Pages: Scott Church picture-palooza

2011-08-19T22:02:00.001-04:00

Picture Pages: More August

2011-08-15T20:22:00.001-04:00

Picture Pages: August

2011-08-14T13:31:00.001-04:00

Picture Pages: Turning Two

2011-08-14T12:27:00.000-04:00

Toddling to Two

2011-07-23T13:14:00.002-04:00

Here's hoping the second annual album arrives before Saturday's party!

Click here to view this photo book larger

Picture Pages: the Beach

2011-07-20T21:46:00.001-04:00

July 16: Six years

2011-07-17T16:17:00.002-04:00

Picture Pages: Poconos

2011-07-17T15:56:00.000-04:00

Picture Pages: more summer

2011-07-08T22:02:00.000-04:00

A couple more pages, before our annual week at the beach!

Picture Pages: Summertime

2011-06-23T19:00:00.001-04:00

Picture Pages: Moving

2011-06-13T20:26:00.000-04:00

Picture Pages: May 2011

2011-06-06T18:40:00.001-04:00

Picture Pages: Hersheypark!!

2011-06-02T18:20:00.000-04:00

Picture Pages: Springtime

2011-05-18T17:46:00.000-04:00

Picture Pages: 20 months

2011-04-11T21:26:00.000-04:00

a good, old-fashioned, look-how-smart-my-kid-is kinda post

2011-03-29T21:03:00.000-04:00

Alright, so the boy has just about all of his father's characteristics (including Daddy's impressive booty), but I think he's got Mama's linguistic aptitude.

So indulge us, as we show off the vocab and verbal propensity of our little parrot, who apparently retains and comprehends a lot of the words he mimmicks.

Daddy taught him "prodigy" just after we shut the camera down this evening.

Picture Pages

2011-03-25T20:34:00.002-04:00

Picture Pages

2011-03-19T09:59:00.002-04:00

Picture Pages

2011-03-11T20:19:00.001-05:00

Picture Pages

2011-03-02T19:57:00.000-05:00

Now that the proud new mama has posted some pics of the cousins together...

Special treats for a sick boy

2011-02-13T16:54:00.001-05:00

Popsicle at lunch, to cool the fever and get more fluids into Shorty, then pizza for dinner, because he's been very finicky and it's been tough to get him to eat.

But the dinner video is really less about pizza and more about this vocal little devil, showing off his smarts.

Picture Pages

2011-02-12T14:34:00.000-05:00

Lots on my mind lately, but I've been too busy and preoccupied to post. Work is challenging, in good ways and not-so-good ways, but I have faith that we'll all work our way through what can not be better described as transition, then come out better on the other side.

But I've been keeping up with the scrapping...

Picture Pages

2011-01-17T11:08:00.000-05:00

Aunt Cole Cole's baby shower

2011-01-03T21:29:00.000-05:00

This handsome devil worked the room of ladies like a pro.

The cupcakes were his favorite part of lunch.

Then he and Miss Presley helped Nicole open gifts and shred tissue paper.

Until the boy found a snuggly new set of jammies for baby Rylan...

And then it became clear our little party animal was ready for a snuggly snooze.

Picture Pages

2010-12-28T18:05:00.000-05:00

I'm considerate like that

2010-12-20T21:34:00.000-05:00

So Friday morning saw me at the OBGYN's office, bright and early. So bright and early, in fact, I didn't even get to kiss my Shorty good morning, because he was still in snooze city when I left.

So I'm chatting it up with Amy, catching up on the last year and talking about timeframes for trying for a second baby. And then we have to get down to the business for which I, completely naked under my leave-it-open-in-the-front sheet gown, was there. Starting with the breast exam.

And Amy jokes that we probably don't even need to do the breast exam, since I'm still breastfeeding at night and therefore probably touching my boobs more than 90 percent of women anyway. At which point, I open up the gown to expose the gals for Amy. And then I peer down, catching something slightly amiss.

So I blush briefly, excuse myself and explain that my boy is battling a bit of a headcold. Because how else would I appropriately preface the act of peeling a 12.5-hour-old, big, crusty, green booger off my right nipple?

Hey, I'm considerate like that.

At which point Amy and the nurse standing by completely lost it, howling with laughter.

Comic relief in extended breastfeeding. Good stuff.

Some of my best drinking friends

2010-12-13T20:25:00.000-05:00

Holy shit, we've been acting like stupid 21-year-olds together for ten years now. TEN YEARS.

And while we see each other far less frequently than we did ten years ago, and while our visits ten years later involve far less cheap beer and Bankers Club than they used to (well, most visits), we sure do jam as much celebrating and reminiscing into each window of catching up as possible.

Now with our babies. And toddlers. And "for the kids" now has a completely different meaning for us, one we're all learning the joys and limitations of along the way.

And how funny it is to watch our littles -- little versions of ourselves -- interact with each other.

I like to think they'll grow up to be friends.

Although Erin has already made clear that Cayden will not be allowed into Abby and Nora's East Halls dorm room their freshman year.

Picture Pages

2010-12-10T19:47:00.000-05:00

Christmas Cookies

2010-12-05T15:02:00.000-05:00

Much messier this year than ever before (Cayden got into the flour, then threw spoonfulls around the kitchen, as evidenced by the chair), but a whole lotta fun to have a little helper to make and eat chocolate chip cookies.

2010-12-05T14:54:00.001-05:00

So there are a lot of things new parents become “more” of, when a child turns a comfortable couple into a floundering family. Or at least things Daddy and I have become “more” of over the last 16 months:

More tired
More careful
More vulnerable
More fulfilled
More scared
More busy
More conscientious
More imaginative
More empathetic
More doubtful
More spiritual
More hopeful
More frugal
More charitable
More patient

But you want to know the biggest more we’ve discovered? More productive. And that realization hit me over the head like a frying pan last Saturday around 11 a.m.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving. Let’s rewind three or four years and see what was happening around 11 a.m. Not much, considering we were still sleeping off Friday night’s celebration and staring down a great big day of zero commitment, zero plans and zero initiative. Save maybe getting some Christmas decorations out, but only if inspiration really hit.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving 2010? We were up by 6:45 a.m., and before lunch I had done a load of laundry, put the diapers through three cycles, unloaded the dishwasher, cleaned the hardwood and kitchen floors, cleaned both the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms, pruned the roses and raked the leaves from the front and back yards to the curb.

So the question becomes, will this state of super-fly productivity persist, even when Cayden grows old enough to understand the value of sleeping in and lazy afternoons? I hope not; I enjoyed the luxury of downtime.

Picture Pages

2010-12-01T18:17:00.000-05:00

Like father, like son

2010-11-29T20:02:00.000-05:00

Guess who else, besides that Daddy and PopPop of ours, has a fond fascination for firewood and fires?

The boy.

He even knows how to blow on the embers to get the flames goin'. Well, at least he starts blowing as soon as Daddy does.

Oh, and he's also a fan of lazy football Sundays.

Thankful

2010-11-28T14:04:00.003-05:00

For a lunch with my boys at the office.

For childhood determination.

For childhood curiosity.

For childhood excitement.

For an adorable new interest in helping.

For the opportunity to watch generations influence each other.

And for so much more the camera didn't see in the past few weeks: For good friends with whom we can catch right up, never skipping a beat, despite the miles between us and the months between conversations. For loving, generous families who are as excited as we are to share joy and new experiences with the youngest member of the family. For a cousin-to-be who will enrich all our lives even more. For our comfortable, welcoming home. For professional fulfillment. For the beauty all around us in the changing season and holiday anticipation. For good, old-fashioned Christmas carols and the first snow flakes of winter. For the opportunity to introduce a little boy to the magic of Santa Claus. For a perfect partner in life I can't imagine experiencing any of this without.

It's been a really, really good couple of weeks, and we can't wait to savor everything coming our way in the next month...

Uninspired and Tired.

2010-11-14T21:38:00.000-05:00

This time of year always seems to drag and fly by, all at the same time, what with the weekend trips, holiday events and seasonal must-dos. And this year is no different, except that instead of having a largely immobile and inactive infant, we now have a tearing-into-everything-and-running-all-over toddler. Plus a more demanding (ahem, full-time) job and some home improvements we didn't see coming.

So I know a lot has been going on lately, and I'm doing my best to keep up on the scrapping, but I just can't seem to find time or inspiration to sit down and update.

Insert disjointed information dump.

Our 15-month well child visit proved the beast is still off the charts, yet proportional, with his nearly 31 pound and 3-foot tall self. And the overly large dome is still growing. 2T clothes are the standard for winter. But thankfully, his bulkier-than-sposies dipes don't seem so bulky and disproportionate on his bigger frame, so that means he finally has his first pair of jeans!

By the way, baby GAP rocks the house, even if the jeans are more expensive than any pair I've bought for myself in the last ten years. But whatever, that's what free money (gift certificates we forgot we had -- totalling almost $50!!) is for.

The boy's Halloween experience was awesome, as was his first ride on the Hershey Chocolate World ride and the second birthday party for one of his future girlfriends.

Not-so-awesome are his new-found love of grabbing his wiener every time it's available, his inability to last through a 45-minute meal without screaming through much of it, the evening tooth-brushing ritual (which I'm sure our neighbors think involve some sort of bodily injury) or the big, fat, cartoon lip he got after chopping his bottom teeth into his top lip when he tripped over the carpet in the living room. Screeeeeeeeam city!

Oh, and the daylight savings transition S.U.C.K.E.D.

Home stuff has also sucked lately, but that's to be expected when you waste an entire Saturday doing yard work, it gets dark at 5:30 p.m. and your hot water heater floods the first floor, requiring replacement immediately. Whatever, it is what it is.

Wow, hello impromptu bitch-fest. Sorry.

And work is work. I love the challenge and responsibility, but also love to leave it all at the office at the end of the day. I don't think I checked my blackberry once all weekend. Shhh. But now we're in a weird, calm-before-the storm kind of environment, and everybody is just kind of quietly watching and waiting to see how things will pan out in coming weeks and months. So it's not really any big deal to have left the phone in my purse for two straight days and nights.

But we've got bittersweet fun coming up. A weekend in the DC metro area next weekend for the PSU game, although we'll have to split from the boy for two nights and two days. We need the mini adult vacay with great friends (even though we'll put our sleep banks in even further delinquency than they already are, teetering dangerously close to sputtering-to-a-stop empty), but we'll certainly miss the block-throwing, cheerio smashing, cat licking, water-bowl-flipping tyrant.

Let's see if Grammy, Dude, Uncle Jeff and Aunt Lauren have any interest in satisfying the boy's Christmas Wish List after this weekend, when they'll have to entertain and appease the little devil...

Picture Pages

2010-10-30T20:48:00.000-04:00

Snicker

2010-10-29T07:00:00.001-04:00

I'm so that mama. You know, the over-the-top, balls-to-the-wall, she-must-have-way-too-much-time-on-her-hands kind of mama that all the other daycare mamas roll their eyes at, but secretly envy for the sheer awesomeness of dedication and creativity.

Because while I certainly don't have way too much time on my hands -- in fact, it's all I can do to get home by 6 p.m., spend an hour with the boy, get him ready for bed, do a little cleaning/laundry/chores, shower and throw something down my gullet before hitting the hay around 10 -- I do have boatloads of determination and creativity. Which fuel excitement and pride about turning an ordinary assigment into something extraordinary.

Since the boy only goes to school Thursday and Friday, we were the last to sign up last week to bring something for today's Halloween party. The only thing left? Finger sandwiches. Who knew what a fierce fire finger sandwiches could light under my butt.

So, after Daddy wondered aloud about making sandwiches in the shapes of ghosts, a lightbulb went off in my head, and the planning began.

Enter Pampered Chef cookie cutters, a combination of traditional and try-something-new ingredients and a whole lotta this-is-gonna-be-great determination.

The end result?

A my-kids-party-food-kicks-your-kid's-party-food's-ass platter of friggin FANTASTIC finger sandwiches. That's right, they're in the shapes of apples, maple leaves and pumpkins. And they have cute little menu cards, and I found a perfect fall platter for a buck.

I may not have the time stay-at-home moms do, but I have imagination and resourcefullness in spades!

Picture Pages

2010-10-26T19:08:00.001-04:00

Sensory Tub: FAIL

2010-10-20T21:35:00.003-04:00

So every now and then I check in on this blog, No Time for Flash Cards, to see what kinds of creative arts and crafts I'll be able to do with Cayden when he's a little older.

And the ideas are so, so neat! But alas, nearly every project involves glue, paint, crayons, play-doh or some other supply I'm confident Cayden would rather consume than use to express his creativity at this point.

But then I found a project the blogger swears is good for little kids, too. One that involves basic ingredients that are either edible or too large to consume, and the entire projects can be created easily and on the cheap. So I got excited to try our first home-made crafty kind of activity.

After all, the blogger did it two years in a row with her son -- age not identified, which turns out to be key to my misunderstanding -- so he must have been pretty little last year when she tried it for the first time, right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong. The Spooky Sensory Tub is not appropriate for 14.5 month old little boys.

How my husband knew that as soon as he saw my baking pan filled with black beans and orange split peas, I can't tell you, because I had every confidence this would be a productive experience for Cayden. Yes, that darling hubby of mine washed his hands of our craft and any resulting melee as soon as he saw it.

Aw, hell, it probably was a productive experience for Cayden, as he threw beans and bats and skeletons into the air, giggling as they fell and bounced all around him. And then when he discovered that if he violently swept his arm from one end of the pan to the other, he could bulldoze out way more beans in a few fell swoops than he could one or two handfuls at a time.

And it was certainly a productive experience for me, as I learned that the boy is far to young to be presented with thousands of tiny little objects that make entertaining swishing and tinking noises when they crash to the floor and scatter about.

And finally, it was a productive experience for our kitchen floor, which got a thorough sweeping and scrubbing after this.

I'm feeling quite dejected after our first homestyle craft proved such a failure.

Seriously, how do his teachers at school get him to participate so neatly and expertly in arts and crafts, when I can't keep from eating his crayons or playing civilly with a pan of beans?

Screw you, adorable, toddler-painted pumpkin on my front porch; arts and crafts don't count until Mama succeeds at them.

Picture Pages

2010-10-18T07:58:00.001-04:00

Fall Family Fun: What a Great Weekend

2010-10-18T07:53:00.010-04:00

This weekend was one of those weekends that makes me think there is a little bit of superpower dust in the hormonal and emotional changes that create and sustain a mama. Because somehow, we got to the end of Sunday afternoon and we had accomplished all the mundane gotta-get-it-done stuff we usually have to do on our two days off, plus a boatload more stuff that was just. plain. fun.

Family fun in a way we’ve never experienced before, because we’ve never had a rough-and-tumble, now-prefers-walking-to-crawling 14.5 month old before.

Saturday saw a visit to the church for the annual fall chicken barbeque and to check out the recently revamped church nursery. Which is really, really neat. Cayden loved the new-to-him toys, although he did drive Mama nuts by removing the shelf liner from every toy cubby before sitting down to play with any toys.

Then came the chicken. Mmmm, the chicken. Cayden ate more of my lunch than I did, right down to sucking the bones clean of meat. And then he got a special treat: a pumpkin, chocolate chip cookie for dessert. Although he was decidedly unhappy when lunch and dessert were over, and he threw a back-arching tantrum right in Fellowship Hall, insistent we shove more food down his gullet. But since he had eaten half a baked potato, 4 oz. of applesauce, part of a bun and an entire quarter of a chicken before his cookie, we decided to endure his tantrum and remove him from the table so as to avoid the overeating vomit we are sometimes blessed with, when too much dinner is consumed too quickly, then we’re not quite careful enough when removing the porker from the bathtub and consequently bend his legs too far at the hips and he pukes all over his bath towel.

I know, the joys of parenting a good eater.

Then Saturday afternoon saw Brian fishing and me scrapping, before we visited with Lauren and Jeff after Cayden’s bedtime to watch the Phillies.

Since the weather couldn’t be more perfect Sunday, we decided to daytrip it – to State College! Shorty’s first trip to Penn State.

First stop, Nittany Lion Shrine. For a few shots so that I have options from which to choose when Cayden is the coordinator of the class gift during his senior year at Penn State, and the Penn Stater alumni magazine features a message from him to alumni, along with a photo of him as a senior, posing with the Nittany Lion. Because there’s always a “my first photo with the Nittany Lion!” insert on those photos. Phew, now we’re prepared for that scenario.

Then we walked around downtown and on campus, doing as a family the things we never have time to do on football weekends. Checked out the Hintz Family Alumni Center, which unfortunately was closed, since there was no football game this weekend. But the brick walk and the grounds are be-you-ti-ful! Gorgeous flower gardens featuring every color of the rainbow – even in October! – and the absolute best part of our day: a water pond with super-dooper friendly ducks! OK, maybe they were just super-dooper hungry, but whatever. Those things gobbled up half of Cayden’s penguin crackers (cannibals), and gave us all a ton of laughs and squeals.

And then on to Old Main, for some leaf-playing, sidewalk-walking and stair-climbing. And then some more back arching tantrums, when I wouldn’t let Cayden re-scale all the granite steps to the front doors of Old Main, after he had done it once already. What can I say, we were late for lunch, and we were fighting a losing battle with a hungry kid.

Only wrinkle in our PSU daytrip was leaving Cayden’s lunch on the counter in the laundry room, so we had to improvise when we got to The Deli. He did great with his kids-cup of water and ribbed plastic straw, but Mama and Daddy kind of shit the bed in ordering lunch for Junior. The retards we are, we searched all over the regular menu for kids options, not finding any. So we ordered him a $6 bowl of matzo ball soup, which had far less carrots, chicken and flavor than the menu promised. Our college kid waiter must have thought we were nuts. The noodles were a hit for Shorty, but they didn’t suffice, so again he ate a good portion of my lunch, a chicken quesadilla.

Oh, and then we found the kids menu. You know, at the top of the placemat provided to Cayden along with a handful of crayons for coloring on said PLACEMAT MENU. Hello, first-time parents who don’t take their child out to restaurants for fear of public tantrums or food-throwing. What a rip, once we realized that for $4 we could have gotten Cayden a much better lunch: mini cheeseburger, mini fish-n-chips, mini soft tacos, pasta or grilled cheese, each with a side of apple slices. Oh well, live and learn.

By then it was about time for Cayden’s afternoon nap, so we returned to the car and headed home for an afternoon of more walking and exploring around the yard and newly finished deck!

And on top of all that excitement, somehow laundry and diapers and winter squash roasting and carrot steaming and floor swiffing and carpet vacuuming and baseboard dusting and lunch-making and work-week-wardrobe preparing and grocery buying were accomplished, to boot.

See, I told you it was superhero dust.

Sick still sucks

2010-10-12T17:43:00.000-04:00

This time, for Mama. As in sick like I haven't been sick in years. Head throbbing, bones aching, skin chilling, tears bursting, elephant-sitting-on-my-chest and coughing-so-hard-I-pee-a-little-even-when-I-bend-over-to-avoid-it sick.

And a dumb doctor, to top it off, who didn't give me the prescription he promised, even after I went through the whole story on Cayden's amoxil rash and asked the doc to make sure what he prescribed for me would be safe for the boy, considering our morning and evening nursing sessions. Conclusion? My prescription should be the same drug Cayden is on, the Z-pack. So I fill the prescription on Saturday, after the fever and seriously-I-dont-know-if-I-can-get-out-of-bed body aches set in hard-core. And I realize the prescription is for blasted amoxicillan. Damn. Dumb. Doctor. So even though I took off work Friday afternoon to see the doc and get some meds, I didn't get the meds I need until this morning.

So it was a pretty miserable long weekend, spent largely in bed, convinced my head would explode or my lungs collapse.

But there was a bright spot. Chicken picked out three pumpkins from the Boy Scout Troop 10 annual Apple Pumpkin Festival. Oh, and the military truck in the parking lot was a big hit for him.

Much props to Daddy for stepping up to the plate this weekend. The thought of lifting a 30-pound toddler made me cringe all weekend long, and I was only forced to experience the resultant mind-blowing body aches (seriously, they made me cry) a couple of times because that man of mine took on all kinds of extra baby duty.

Seriously now, enough is enough

2010-10-06T20:42:00.002-04:00

Sinus infection combined with ear infection.

Compounded by two molars, working their miserable ways through.

Punctuated by a fall down an entire second-floor-to-first-floor, hardwood staircase. Yeah, that's this week's first new development.

And just for shits and giggles, this.

This pretty rash is spreading all over his body, including his face.

Doc Baker's diagnosis? A measles-like amoxil rash, which is way, way better than measles itself.

Speaking of which, while informational sites like Babycenter.com are great and wonderful resources at times, no good can come from things like the "Visual Guide to Rashes", which offers a picture of measles presenting EXACTLY AS ABOVE without cautioning that amoxil rash is a common and far more plausible diagnosis for a 14-month-old who has been on amoxicillin for a week.

But good old Wikipedia has a great description and series of pictures here. Which is fantastic, since after hearing , "no, it's really unlikely to be measles and I'll give you a note saying he's fine for daycare tomorrow", this Mama resumed chasing her semi-ambulatory boy around the examination room, failing to absorb anything more than "not really an allergic reaction, more like a pre-allergic reaction ... blah blah blah medical mumbo jumbo I can't follow and didn't have a free hand to jot down blah blah blah ... don't give him any more amoxicillin and it should be gone in two weeks."

Apparently my boy isn't quite ready for the wonder-drug my brother and I THRIVED ON for so many years. We'll avoid it for a while and maybe return to it after time, since many kids outgrow this disgustingly nasty and completely terrifying rash reaction.

So now we have a new prescription to fight the sinus and ear infections the rest of the way, a purple goose egg on the head (from the summersault down the stairs) and a lot of 'splainin to do tomorrow morning, so Miss Rose and Miss Steph will let my poor little boy into the Bears' classroom.

Really, I have a lot of positive catching up to do, including more scrap pages and happy memory documentation. And I'll get to it eventually, once emergency doctors appointments and last-minute unbelievably huge work projects die down.

But for tonight, seriously now, enough is enough.

Sick sucks

2010-09-29T19:05:00.002-04:00

This is what a baby with an ear infection (right ear only, thank goodness) and a sinus infection looks like at the end of the day, after struggling against coughs, sniffles and congestion to get only a few minutes of sleep each day.

He never had a fever spike that I saw, and he never pulled at his ear. But since he was sick for about four weeks with a cold, then better for one week, then sick again, Daddy decided to call the doc.

Thank goodness he did, because now we have some antibiotics to help Shorty fight his infections, and hopefully he (and we) will be able to get a good, comfortable night's sleep before too much longer.

He shows his exhaustion and despondency so pitifully in his gloomy, sparkle-less eyes, and they look like sad little puppy dog eyes.

Thank goodness for patient and understanding grandparents and great-grandparents, who coddled him through his discomfort and inspired Daddy to call the doc, because something just wasn't right about this cold.

Looks like we might have one more long night ahead of us before the wonder-drugs kick in, but like I told Daddy earlier today: one year ago, every night was a long night, and we survived all of those.

So we'll dig deep into our energy and patience reserves again tonight to comfort and rock through the wee hours of the morning, eagerly awaiting that silver lining to appear in the form of the sparkle returned to Junior's peepers.

weekend videos

2010-09-27T21:30:00.001-04:00

Junior's first college gameday of the 2010 season, complete with his own bowl of goldfish snacks.

And the result of an encounter with the neighbor's friendly black lab, who did nothing but wag his tongue and pant at Shorty Sunday morning.

Fall, Mmmmm.

2010-09-23T19:34:00.003-04:00

Despite the fact that autumn is kicking off with two straight days of temperatures creeping to the 90's, fall is officially here.

And in our household, the season is unofficially welcomed each year with a cooking frenzy. An empassioned frenzy, that is, whereby the impending change of season suddenly and strongly inspires me to search out and experiment with a bunch of new recipes ALL. RIGHT. NOW.

Last year it was homemade soups. This year? Crock-pot recipes involving chicken. As in four new recipes, all in the crock pot this week, and requiring an emergency trip to Costco for MORE CHICKEN!

Why? Because when culinary inspiration strikes me, it does so with the force of a sledgehammer, and I thought it best to run right out to the store immediately to buy ingredients for all four new recipes at once. So not only did I fill the work refrigerator with a bag of groceries that must have confused any late-day snack seekers for its collection of completely incongruous produce, but I also pressured myself into way more cooking in a week than I'm used to, so as not to waste the fresh stuff.

So any guesses as to what happens when fresh flat-leaf parsley, lemons, limes, cilantro, peppers, green onions, rosemary, yams, ginger and shallots combine with peanuts, coconut, artichokes, mango chutney, capers, chunky salsa, Jamaican jerk spice, parmesan cheese, Marsala wine, soy sauce, calamata olives, coffee and dark rum?

You end up with four new dishes: one mediterannean, one asian, one caribbean and one Indian.

And a hubby who appreciates the effort (after all, he's getting a respite from his evening dinner prep routine), but goes a little crazy all day smelling slow-cooked chicken a bazillion different ways.

And a wife/mama who may become so exhausted of chopping, grating, mixing and blending that she may not cook again for another month. But then again, I anticipated that this year, and for just that reason I'm making big batches so I have portions to freeze for easy, go-to dinner defrosts in coming weeks.

So far, I'm still having fun with my annual impulse cook-a-thon. Maybe not so much, come Sunday, when we'll round out the week of record cooking with a pork-n-kraut feast for eight. But for now, yay for new recipes!

Picture Pages

2010-09-21T18:46:00.001-04:00

Daycare and the first couple of fall layouts...

Growing, Learning, Testing

2010-09-17T17:59:00.001-04:00

You know how everyone says that as kids get older, each stage is just so much more fun than the last? Well, until they become pre-teens, when they turn into miserable, rotten hormonal monsters and make life suck again?

They’re right.

Now let’s just tell it like it is and say the early days – oh, round about months one through three – largely blew. There were bright moments every now and again – a belly button that popped off, smiling, laughing – but most of it was a sleep deprived haze of it’s-sure-as-hell-gotta-get-better-than-this-or-everyone-would-be-an-only-child. So I expected the second half of the first year to be better than the first six months. And it was, infinitely. But then I didn’t think it could get much more fun than watching Shorty mimmick sounds and actions. And I knew watching him learn to crawl and start to take off all over the place was an apex. But then he became a boy’s boy and wanted to play with nothing but trucks, and that was tops. And then he started taking his first tentative steps and, wel, you get the picture.

And this boy just keeps on learning, keeps on impressing. Still no “official” first words, but his vocabulary and communication are growing exponentially. Da da is pretty clear for Pops (but Mama and Dada don’t count as first words). Blue Blankie “ba bas” can now be distinguished from boobie “bo bos” (which most times are accompanied by the most adorable jab at my chest with a pointer finger, to one side or the other, depending on where we are in a nursing session and whether or not he’s decided it’s time to change sides), and “ma” coordinated with a toss of the arm towards his sippy clearly means milk. We’ve also got “na na” (banana) “go go” (goldfish crackers) and “shesh” (cheese).

Kisses are now given on command almost all the time, instead of sporadically or as his mood inspired. And in the past week he’s learned a new trick d’amour: bear hugs. Daddy taught this one, and it was a lesson well learned, because I’ve never seen a better bear-hugger in my life. Arms thrown out wide, then wrapped tightly around the neck of his beloved target.

Someone at school must have taught him the concept of circle, because suddenly he started crawling or spinning in a circle when ever anyone says “circle”.

And he LOVES to play tag. Whether I’m chasing him or he’s chasing me, giggle fits ensue in abundance.

His fine motor skills are slowly but surely improving, too. Whereas a month ago he’d rather throw his stacking cups than sit with them, now he’s fascinated with how they fit together. Same with plastic containers with lids. He likes to open the containers, fill them with toys, then close them back up. Still not entirely keen on the shape sorting toys, but he’s made attempts a few times.

Oh, and lesson learned: you know those puzzles with multiple pieces of different shapes and animals – the ones that teach colors and have pictures of the puzzle pieces in the spots where the pieces fit? Yeah, they’re serious when they say those toys are intended for ages 2 and up. Hopefully our pieces won’t all be lost by the time he takes interest in our puzzles beyond chewing the pictures off the wood.

And although we haven’t had a weight check in some time (not since I went back to work full-time and stopped going to our Thursday group), we know this kid is growing. Over the past couple of weeks it became abundantly clear that it’s time to retire all the 18-month clothes (cute vanity tee-shirts suddenly creeped up and became belly shirts with indistinguishable messages), so thank goodness I stacked up on pants and long-sleeves in the 24-month range last spring at Just Like New Kids. Oh, and we also have our first pair of functional, fitting shoes! Grabbed a pair of Dawgs (think Crocs, but cheaper) on clearance this week for $2, and he loves them. A little tough at first to smoosh his fat foot in there, but the length of his 5/6 rubber clogs is perfect. And Grammy, who returned from a month at the lake earlier this week, says it’s clear how much taller Cayden has gotten. She says he’s getting a little leaner, but his cottage-cheese ass still belies any hope of slenderness.

Seriously, though, he better become a more confident walker soon. Because it’s torture to take him places where the walk is too short for the Ergo but just long enough to kill my back. Drop-off at daycare, for example, where I’m teetering on heels to balance a 30+ pound kid and diaper bag full of goodies across a parking lot, through the secure entry and down the hall to his room.

And with his growing and learning has come boundary testing. And tantrums. Which are sometimes annoying, but mostly just plain funny, because it’s true, unrivaled entertainment to see a watch a kid object to something with limited communications skills, yet limitless ambition and fervor.

But if limit testing in the form of nipple biting (he did it last night for the first time in forever) is any indication of how this kid will handle discipline, I’m hoping it won’t be too hard. A stern “no biting” and finger pointed for emphasis melted him into a puddle of tears a fraction of a second after he was detached. I think he’s got a bit of a sensitive side, and that’s not a bad thing at all.

Oh, and speaking of biting, we haven’t seen anymore daycare bites since the third week of school. Knock on wood, problem seems to have been solved, although I’ve only left my sensitive boy one morning since that third week where he didn’t curl his lip and start crying as soon as I left his side. Tough to do that, but all his report cards indicate the rest of his day is “cheerful”, he “laughs like crazy” all the time and truly enjoys all the activities they have for the tots. Feeling pretty good about this school, despite the sad drop-offs.

Cayden is one year, one-and-a-half-months old, and this has got to be the best stage of baby/toddlerhood. Until tomorrow, that is.

Chicken Catch Up

2010-09-15T22:11:00.001-04:00

Guess who likes lollipops ... a lot.

And who is not so much a fan of lemon wedges...

But who certainly loves him some Dora and Fresh Beat Band, only every now and again. Well, unless Daddy is babysitting, then when Nick Jr. is on pretty much regularly.

A quick breather...

2010-09-15T07:45:00.001-04:00

...between weekends spent celebrating with friends. Gorgeous wedding this past weekend in Connecticut, right on the Long Island Sound.

Beautiful bride, beaming groom and two -- count 'em, TWO -- receptions, one right after the other.

And that after a night of having the groom -- a college friend who just oozes big personality, Italian pride and serious loyalty to friendships -- all to ourselves for some great catching up and anticipation of the big day.

Such good times with people we see too rarely.

Holy Graphic Tees, Batman!

We missed our boy, but he spent some much-needed time with Grandma before her second knee replacement this week. And as silly as it sounds, he actually changed in the two days we were away from him. A little bit stronger, or at least more daring, in the wobble-walking department, and his seriously-is-this-nasty-green-snotty-nose-thing-that-keeps-him-up-at-night-two-month-cold seems to *maybe* have broken for good. Knocking on all the wood I can find.

If he's not better, at least he's responding to the $40 cool mist humidifier recommended by Doc Baker's nurse. Unfortunately, her other suggestion -- resurrecting the infant boogie sucker -- just won't fly with this boy, who would much rather suck on the end of the boogie sucker or heave it across the room than have it jammed up his nose.

Anyway, this weekend we look forward to tailgating and watching a Nittany Lion win in Happy Valley with an odd, yet completely exciting mish-mash of friends. We thought it would just be six of us: Brian and I; Bill, his fraternity brother from Millersville who now lives at Penn State, and his yet-to-be-met girlfriend; and Brad and Katie, one of Brian's high school pals and his long-time girlfriend. But then we realized that THREE of Brian's cousins may be around for the tailgate. And as icing on the cake, my long-missed new Mama girlfriend Erin will be there, and I can't wait to catch up with her on how three-month old Nora is doing and how her much dreaded first week back at work was.

Again, knock on wood, it looks like a beautiful forecast on the weather front and on the catching-up-with-friends front.

And this weekend the Chicken will spend some sleepover time with Grammy and Dude, who missed him terribly after a long getaway at the cottage in Canada.

This, I think is as close to the perfect balance as we could get: hard days at the office that challenge and reward me more professionally than I expected in accepting this position, tempered with a record number of back-to-back, things-to-do weekends that celebrate friendships and family and relegate cleaning and chores to the back burner. And surprisingly, I'm ok with that.

So long as the things-to-do weekends aren't hosted at my house, where people would discover and witness the dust bunnies, week-old dried out macaroni and not-quite-sure-what-that-stickyness-is sticky kitchen floors.

Now that's the way to spend a long weekend

2010-09-07T20:47:00.001-04:00

breaking in the new grill just in time, to enjoy some barbeque chicken and burgers before the sand runs out on summer ... temperate weather that set the stage perfectly for a long weekend of evenings spent excitedly anticipating fall ... kicking off college football with family, although admittedly Mama saw very, very few Nittany Lions plays, as Cayden just isn't old enough to appreciate college football over distractions like steps and brick mantles and swivel chairs and pizza crusts ... hearty, full-flavored craft beer, which, now that sweltering heat doesn't demand ice-cold, watery light beer, can be truly enjoyed ... a stroll to the park for some playtime on the swings and to climb on the jungle gym (for the first time) with Mama and Daddy ... quality, it's-been-way-too-long time spent with good friends, laughing about the past, contemplating the present, dreaming about the future and drinking too much wine ...

watching a little boy idolize a bigger little boy, and smiling with every piece of me to see that bigger little boy preciously share his treasured toys with the little, little boy ... celebrating family and sharing all the joys, fears and challenges of life, from before infancy to old age: pregnancy bloat and whacked out emotions, childbirth, first toddling steps, teaching gradeschoolers, disliking teenage boyfriends, loving pets, moving off to college, finding jobs, keeping jobs, struggling to make ends meet, struggling to find the right answers in caring for loved ones and trying to laugh all along the way ... finally putting the finishing touches on the beach vacation video, so that DVDs of the first year can start burning ... celebrating a birthday with a trip to the zoo and more deck-grilling and catching up ... and falling into bed exhausted, but completely fulfilled from a weekend so full of life, so full of love, we couldn't have crammed much more in if we tried.

Oh, and want to know the best part of temperatures trending down? Ten chubby piggy-toes peeking out of warm-up pants. Athletic grey warm-up pants with white stripes that were splurged upon simply because they look exactly like Daddy's, and this Mama can't wait to get a picture of her boys together, outfitted the same.

I love, love, love me some summer, but I'm ready for mums and apple festivals and football tailgates and homemade pumpkin-orange soup and crunchy leaves.

Mr. Mobile

2010-09-03T21:50:00.002-04:00

First, the prelude...

And then, the big show. (Caveat) Please disregard: the messy room (Cayden just unloaded his toy cradle and the comforter over top...Mama's unflattering decolletage/bosom in an old, stretched out nursing tank...Daddy's inappropriate commentary (suddenly, "in-a-pwohp-wee-uht" is a regular part of our vocabulary; maybe Daddy should grow up, or maybe he should stay just the way he is: the jury's still out)...a little Miss Jackson (Together Again) in the background -- remember that radio station I mentioned before? Yeah, Cayden still rocks it.

Daddy acquiesces

2010-09-03T21:20:00.000-04:00

Only because the flowers over the weenus made him laugh out loud.

Aaaaaaaand, the elephantitis buns...

And this one is just for daddy.

Not much, but it's something

2010-09-03T07:13:00.001-04:00

Busy, but busy is good. Work is challenging, but also quite gratifying in overcoming those challenges.

So even though the pics were already posted, this is about all I have for an update. A couple more scrap pages. Hopefully more to come this weekend.

Meeting Miss Abby

2010-08-29T08:44:00.001-04:00

A week ago, we spent an overnight with the Fitzes in Eagleville. Great catch-up for the big kids, and a first-time introduction for the littles. Miss Abby is about 8.5 months old.

Holy balls

2010-08-25T21:50:00.003-04:00

So here we are, just nine days ago, still a little wobbly with the hippo walker.
(Ooh, disclaimer: PopPop is not a fan of Spike, who is a perfectly nice and loving pet. Well, at least to those who know when and when not to taunt him, pet him or look in his general direction. Please ignore all the heartless side commentary.)

Fast forward. Through an incredibly challenging series of days at work. Did I mention that in the span of a month and a half I went from being the middle person in an office of three to being the "acting" boss of an office of five, where two vacancies in my old work environment leave me pretty much solo for 95 percent of what I've got to get done in a day? OK, reading that back, it sounds confusing. Oh, it is. But enough about me.

Guess who took his first steps for Grand-dude today, at one year, four weeks old.

This guy, who is also learning how to feed himself. And who now uses all eight of his teeth to chow down on peaches.

The dishwasher is apparently an attractive target for this kiddo. Then Chicken came home and demonstrated his wobbly -- yet completely solo -- three steps in a row (gimme three steps, gimme three steps mister, gimme three steps to'ad the do) toward the diswasher for Mama.

Who is completely punch drunk, and perhaps a little bit real drunk, celebrating the near-end of a PR nightmare. Dammit -- again, back to the point at hand -- Cayden is becoming MOBILE. Exciting, yet terrifying at the same time.

And I can't wait to see and hear the reactions from the other grands and great-grands. Because I know that secretly, deep-down (in places you don't talk about at parties), there's this competitive grandparent-caregiver thing going on, and they're all trying to one-up each other with the tricks they teach and milestones they enable.

Or maybe that's all in my punch-drunk head. Yeah, right. It's there, at least a little bit, and I love it.

Holy balls, he took his first steps today.

Dear Mary

2010-08-20T07:55:00.003-04:00

Our last group meeting -- a World Breastfeeding Week celebration, where I gave Mary my letter of thanks for all her support through the first year of Cayden's life -- was nearly a month ago, but I was waiting for the photo of the group to post it. So here it is...

July 29, 2010

Dear Mary,

I want to express to you my heartfelt thanks for all you do for the women and babies who come through Hershey’s breastfeeding and new moms groups. Perhaps you already know the uplifting strength you have brought to dozens – probably hundreds – of anxious first-time mothers over the years, but I want to personally thank you for helping me become a better mother to my first-born, Cayden.

A few weeks ago you asked me what advice I had for new moms “in the trenches” of the first weeks of motherhood and breastfeeding. I could not have been more honest in my reply when I said, “Go to the Tuesday breastfeeding group.” Your Tuesday group set the stage not only for our breastfeeding success (we made our goal of one year – not a drop of formula for this baby – and we’ll keep going as long as my boy is willing), but also for an open dialogue with been-there-done-that moms that granted me the hope I needed in the early, trying weeks.

Even nearly a year after my first Tuesday group, I vividly remember looking around the room, settling sight on a Mama and baby pair, and thinking to myself, “OK, that’s what four weeks looks like; I can make it to four weeks.” And later, “So that’s four months; I know we can get to four months.”

The shared experiences of other moms and the conversations in those Tuesday, then Thursday, groups granted me the regular escapes from the house and invaluable understanding and validation I didn’t even know I needed so desperately in the early months.

And the groups could not be the welcoming, supportive collections of women they are without your compassionate leadership. I can see the joy it brings you to help new generations of mothers share their experiences, learn from each other and become better, more informed and more considerate caretakers. And I am so grateful for the blessing of having met you and having benefited from your wisdom and support.

Your empathy is refreshing, your faith inspiring, your tenderness touching. Your clinical expertise combined with your own mothering and grand-mothering insight allow you to expertly nurture and encourage doubtful and discouraged new mothers, while your graceful disposition inspires hope and strength simply by radiating peace and serenity.

Thank you for helping me learn the difficult, yet infinitely rewarding lessons of patience and tenderness, maternal love and dedication. Thank you for listening, observing, validating, commiserating, motivating, uplifting.

Thank you for providing the forum that demonstrates twice a week the amazing influence one caring leader can have on the lives of countless moms and their littles, new pairs desperate for just such kindness, understanding and support.

Thank you for celebrating new mothers and new babies. Thank you for celebrating my son and I for the past year.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

The Little Biting Harlot: 3; Cayden: 0

2010-08-19T20:21:00.000-04:00

She struck again.

First a back bite, then an arm bite, and now the most insulting bite of all.

After a conversation first with Cayden's morning teacher, then with the Director who stayed late at work to talk to me after Cayden sustained his third bite in five days, we know the following:

(1) The problem biter is a girl

(2) Cayden is doing nothing to instigate the bites or retaliate after them.

(3) While Cayden has been bitten more often than other bitees, he is the most popular target, of late.

(4) The parents of the biter are very upset and are trying their best to correct the problem.

(5) Cayden's teachers are monitoring the pattern biter, but she is a quick little devil who occasionally beats them to the prey.

(6) Cayden's afternoon teacher is quite upset at the situation and feels responsible for the less-than-ideal introduction to daycare Cayden has experienced. She wrote us a personal apology this afternoon.

Brian says one more bite and he'll go in to make heads roll. Grand-dude says maybe the teachers should start smacking the little girl around or give her a bite to never forget.

But the reality is, this is completely normal behavior. It just sucks that my mellow little guy -- who apparently has no sense of personal space, because he allows the biter right into his immediacy and never reacts or makes a peep until the deed has been done -- is such a sweet, naive target.

So I still don't know what to do with all this, even after talking to the staff.

31? Uh-huh

2010-08-19T19:57:00.001-04:00

Welcome to the mish-mash of jumbled up stuff that’s been rattling around my head for a week. I’ve been meaning to organize and expound upon a lot of this, but I simply haven’t had the time.

So pardon the lack of transitions and cohesion.

31. Yeah, so I turned 31 on Monday. No biggie. Hubby made for a great weekend though: I came home Friday to a clean house, and he arranged an afternoon massage for me on Saturday. Then we celebrated with friends by competing in an elaborately designed, 21-game Beer Olympics. Which was more fun than I ever imagined it could be. Medals were won in games ranging from quarters to hula-hooping and puzzle assembly to jump roping. I took home gold in flip cup and a spoon-and-marble type game that instead involved ladeling beer out of a big tub, then walking briskly with that spoon-full-o-beer a distance to carefully transfer the beer from the spoon into a cup. Aaaaand, repeat. For as many times as possible in two minutes. Really, tons and tons of fun. That is, until Gregger broke his leg. Literally. In retrospect, making a long jump competition the 18th event of the night probably wasn’t a good idea. Neither was the actual act of long jumping, at 1 a.m., in the dark, from a flat surface to a sloped hill. So Beer Olympics came to a screeching halt as Colleen’s tires screeched out of the driveway to the ER. Greg is recovering fine, and the take-away from Beer Olympics is this: Damn, was that fun, but holy shit was it stupid. I will certainly advise my own son against Beer Olympics in the future. Or at least I’ll make sure his long-jump competition is at the beginning of the night and on a flat surface.

Uh-huh. That’s Cayden a lot lately. But he’s got the inflection kind of wrong. He says uh-huh, rather than uh-huh. As in, “you want some goldfish?” “uh-huh, go-go-go-go.” And he’s sooo vocal lately. Babbling and shouting and growling (like a lion) at everything. And all while pointing. I anticipate his verbal breakthrough will come more as a flood than as a trickling stream. He’s almost there – trying his darndest to tell us what he thinks, wants, sees – but he just can’t get the words out. Except for a random word every now and then that tends not to be repeated beyond a day. Daisy (the cat), banana, circle – they’ve all been uttered, but only sporadically repeated with meaning.

Daddy. Wanna know reason number umpteen-and-seventy-bajillion why he’s so awesome? Because he makes the breakfast oatmeal with hand-mashed fresh blueberries. And a sprinkle of cinnamon. And a squeeze of honey. Gourmet stuff, because he doesn’t want to feed the chicken anything he wouldn’t enjoy.

Radio. Guess who learned how to turn on the clock radio in his room? The boy. And now every morning must include a little classic rock or late ‘90s hip hop, so Cayden can get his dance on. He stands in front of the radio, holding on to the table by the rocker with one hand, bouncing his little buns away while grinning the biggest grin you ever saw. We’ll just assume Mama and Daddy are far too mature to break out college dance moves, air-guitars and faux gang symbols while little boy dances. Riiight.

Speaking of Buns. Ooooh, a real and actual transition! Anyway, at what point do baby buns turn from cottage cheese to smooth cheeks? 'Cause this chubber still has a serious case of cottage cheese ass. In fact, Brian won’t let me post the picture I took of his naked butt last weekend. The one Brian says makes it look like the boy has elephantiasis.

Perfecting the pincer grasp. So now that his pointer-finger/thumb dexterity is on-point, why is he intent to pick up every spec of lint, cat claw, pine needle and three-day-old scrambled-egg booger he finds on the floor? Not that there are a lot of scrambled egg boogers and cat claws on our floor, but dude I can’t vacuum and swiff every day. So there are a few, and he finds them all, then promptly tries to consume them.

Hmm, that information dump felt good. Now to try to figure a way to work more of them in my starting-to-catch-up-with-me, full-time work schedule.

Cayden is a year and three weeks old.

Vampire Fridays

2010-08-13T20:41:00.001-04:00

The good news is that on the fourth day of daycare, Cayden felt comfortable enough to poop at school.

The bad news is that the fourth day of daycare became the second day Cayden came home with a red ring of teeth imprinted on his body. Today, a friend bit him on the right forearm.

I'm trying to maintain perspective: one of the reasons we picked this school is because they work with biters instead of expelling them. But working with the biters doesn't make it any easier for the bite-ees (or their potentially overprotective daddies), and this Daddy ain't happy about spending $55 a day for our kid to come home with bite marks half the days he's there.

So, is this normal toddler adjustment, or a pattern with which to be concerned?

I was wrong: full-time work B.L.O.W.S.

2010-08-12T19:47:00.004-04:00

Because if I wasn't back to work full-time, I wouldn't have been stuck in the cluster-fumble that was traffic after work today. If I wasn't working full-time, it wouldn't have taken me 1 hour and 35 minutes to travel 7.5 miles. Quite literally, I could have walked home faster.

And if I wasn't back to work full-time and stuck in traffic on the way home, my dear husband wouldn't have had to rush out at the last minute to pick the kid up from daycare. And if that didn't happen, there's no way Brian could have forgotten to check the kid out, left all the dirty diapers in Cayden's cubby and left the diaper bag hanging on Cayden's hook. Heck, at least he remembered the kid and blue blankie.

And if I wasn't back to work full-time, my nervous-boweled boy wouldn't have resisted pooping in front of strangers again all day today, so that when I finally got home at seven-friggin-o'clock to spend one-half hour with the Chicken before bed, he wouldn't have released all his anxiety by SHITTING IN THE BATHTUB.

If I wasn't back to work full-time, I wouldn't have had to de-shat the tub. Oh, wait, Brian had to do that, what when I curled my lip and dampened my eyes at first sight of the loaf in the water.

And if I wasn't back to work full-time I don't think I'd require the Canadian rye I'm preparing to slug, to soften the edges on the past two and a half hours.

Picture Pages

2010-08-10T18:09:00.000-04:00

Rounding out the birthday celebrations...

Working full-time

2010-08-10T07:48:00.002-04:00

As I knew would be the case, it's not that bad.

At least not yet. I'm sure all the little nit-picky stuff that gets put off because time is tighter will accumulate in the back corner of my mind over the coming weeks. And they'll eventually build up to a crescendo of holy-shit-the-half-done-undone-needing-to-be-done-crap-is-sending-me-to-Crazytown, unfairly bestowing upon my husband a franticly irrational, albeit passionately defended, meltdown to assuage.

But for now, we're all good.

So good that I didn't mind leaving the kitchen half-a-mess Sunday night after hosting a really nice family dinner. Ok, I minded, but Brian convinced me to let it go and sit on the couch for a bit with one more glass of wine. That's progress.

So good that we have somehow become adept at a weekday morning routine that readies me and the baby, often 10 or 15 minutes earlier than expected. Occasionally there are early morning tears because little boy would rather be held than play with toys on the floor watching Mama, or tantrums because breakfast isn't coming fast enough, but generally, our mornings offer some great smiles and a good mix of one-on-one time balanced with the requisite hair-doing and makeup-applying.

So good that I relished in the surprise excitement I felt yesterday afternoon -- little-kid excited, all heart-a-flutter and quick-breathing -- when I realized that in just a few hours I'd be home, catching up with my little boy on all the new lessons and excitement his Monday brought him. That's an unexpected treat, I tell ya. No, I don't have as many long weekends to look forward to lounging and erranding with my boy as I used to, but that electric excitement, the joy of anticipation, is pretty darn exhiliarating. I'll take it.

So good, in fact, that I'm looking ahead with hope rather than anxiety or fear to other changes that are-a-coming, changes which may challenge or complicate the life balance and perspective I try to maintain. Hopeful, because I'm confident I can excel in different aspects of my life simultaneously. I can grow on different levels and in different ways than other people choose to grow. And no one way is right or wrong, better or worse. The simple truth -- and one it's taken me a year or two to really, fully appreciate -- is that a person is responsible for defining her own roles in her life: mother, wife, employee, boss, volunteer, friend, house-keeper, preserver of life's love and inspiration. No need to compare my recipe for a full life, which portions all those roles and priorities appropriately in a balance that makes me happy, to that of anyone else.

We're all good.

Picture Pages

2010-08-08T09:43:00.000-04:00

a few more album pages ...

Incident Report

2010-08-07T09:51:00.002-04:00

Oh, I knew every day wouldn't be as good as the first, but I certainly wasn't expecting the second day of daycare to be so, so much worse.

Drop off went fine, and yesterday's report card indicates Cayden had fun and was "cheerful" most of the day, but then there are a few pieces of the puzzle that certainly don't add up to an entirely "cheerful" experience...

First, upon pick-up I could hear my boy crying from all the way down the hall. I opened the door to the bears room to find him and two little girls sitting in their lunch/arts-and-crafts seats at the table, with a teacher I haven't met yet, Kristy. There he is, big fat tears running down his puffy face, and hard-crying snot all over the place. As soon as he saw me, he reached for me.

Miss Kristy asked if he had stranger anxiety, and I told her no, he's never had a problem with new interactions. I did confirm for her it was the second day of his first-ever daycare experience, and she concluded his anxiety must just be normal adjustment to a new routine.

So then I gathered the poor little puddle of tears out of his chair, wiped his nose, grabbed his bags and noticed two pieces of paper in his cubby.

The report card clued me in to his 5:30 meltdown: he had only napped for an hour and 10 minutes yesterday. My boy is a pretty steady three-hour-a-day napper. So I realized Cayden's problem wasn't stranger anxiety and it likely wasn't adjustment stress. Rather, it was I-don't-want-to-stack-and-knock-over-blocks-because-I'm-exhausted-and-please-oh-please-just-give-me-my-blue-blankie-so-I-can-go-to-sleep anxiety.

And he had a second day in a row of all wet diapers, but no soiled ones. Since Cayden typically has one or two daytime poops, I've drawn the conclusion that my boy is a nervous pooper. He's not totally comfortable in the new setting, yet, so he's not relaxed enough to poop. He saves his poops for those he knows and loves.

So after drawing all these conclusions about a less-than great second day at school, then I read the second piece of paper. The Incident Report.

Day number two of daycare, and we have our first Incident Report.

"Cayden was playing when a friend bit him on the back. Treated with washing, ice and TLC."

So rather than go to Toys'R'Us after daycare to spend a birthday gift card on a new toy, as we had planned to do, I called Daddy, gave him the short-and-sweet, and told him we were heading home.

Cayden's shirt came off the minute we were inside the house, and damned if he doesn't have a red, slightly swollen toddler BITE MARK on his right shoulder blade. Somebody bit him hard enough -- through his clothes, no less -- to leave a lasting mark. Still there this morning.

I imagine some rabid little kid pinning my boy down while gnawing maliciously on his back. Brian immediately wanted to find out which "friend" this was, to contemplate retaliation. Because boy retaliation would be totally different than girl retaliation. But either way, Brian's pretty sure there are toddler kung-fu classes around here. And Grandma delicately inquired if we should call the doctor and get any shots because of the bite.

Then we all calmed down and realized this is the first of what will likely be many incident reports at school. We're just hoping Cayden doesn't internalize the incident and return to school next Thursday with a vendetta. It's not out of the question though: after being bitten at daycare when Brian was little, a day or two later he received his own incident report, because he had bitten his biter back in retaliation.

Anyway, it was a tough second day of school. And a poor day of napping means a poor night of sleeping, so my poor boy was up at 2:30 a.m., 4:30 a.m. and 5:30 a.m.

Here's hoping for a better couple of school days next week...

Joining the Bears

2010-08-05T20:40:00.000-04:00

Today was Cayden's first day of school. Daycare, that is, where he joined the Bears (12 - 24 month olds) at U-Gro.

All in all, it was a great day for Cayden and a better experience than Mama or Daddy expected. Our access code worked without a hitch, Cayden's cubbies and nametags were all prepared for his arrival and Miss Rose was impressed with and excited to participate in our cloth diapering regimen.

I struggled to get a "first day of school" photo of the Chicken Wing, because as soon as we set him down, he took off for the toy shelves he became familiar with over the course of his three pre-enrollment visits. Left us in the dust. Which is great for him, I suppose. So I had to snap this from outside the room, in the hallway. There he is, sitting in the center of the room, watching Miss Rose love on one of his new girlfriends.

Although our first drop-off exceeded all my expectations (I don't know what I would have done, had he clung to us or begged for us to return, from the other side of the glass), I couldn't help but shed two "oh, how he's growing up" tears as we walked out the door, to our cars. But two tears, one down each cheek, ain't bad.

Daddy surprised me a bit, though. First for his insistence to attend each pre-enrollment visit, then to drive separately to see Shorty off on his first morning of school. As he wiped the two tears off my cheeks, he admitted to me that this was harder than he expected it to be, and he made me promise to call and check on Shorty mid-day, then report how the little guy was doing to Daddy.

We are so grateful for that loving, concerned Daddy of ours that is so eager to actively participate in every aspect of this parenting gig. Did I mention Daddy about sprinted out to the driveway when I pulled in this evening, dying to hear how pick-up went?

Pick up was fine. He was so content at school, in fact, it took me three "Excuse me"'s before Cayden finally turned away from playtime to recognize me at 5:30. Seems he had a great, fun- and friend-filled day.

And his first report card shows it. My favorite part? Well, there are two: First that he tried to eat the paint (again), and secondly, check out how his snacks and lunch went. Shouldn't have expected anything less than all "everything" checkmarks. My only remaining question or concern about daycare is this: How on earth do they feed 8 to 10 kids tomato soup at the same time??

Kicking off the second year album

2010-08-04T19:49:00.004-04:00

Toddling to Two has officially been started. First page down: first haircut. And the empty circle under the headline? That's where Shorty's first professionally sheared lock will be taped, once the album is done and printed, oh, about 11.5 months from now.

Other news of note? Mimi taught Cayden how to wink yesterday, and yesterday evening he hosed the kitchen floor with a surprising volume and impressively forceful stream of pee. And once he was done peeing, he giggled right at Dad. No, we're not potty training, I just made the mistake of parading him around naked between bathtime and jammies last night.

Ugh, I forgot how much teething sucks

2010-08-01T20:17:00.002-04:00

Seventh tooth and a stuffy nose, all in one night. This may prove to be a long one...

The Party

2010-08-01T20:12:00.002-04:00

What a great afternoon. Loved ones, good food, a great photographer: we couldn't have asked for anything more.

Look who is "so big!"

Showing off a little "mad scientist."

Comin' atcha.

Wait, Mama, didn't we just do this a few days ago?

A little post-cake bath on the deck.

And on to opening presents, with a little help from Max.

Drum sticks?

Yes, please!!

And a shot of the whole little fam.

One more visit to school, then the rest of our afternoon

2010-07-30T21:33:00.003-04:00

And today, Miss Rose invited Cayden to participate in arts and crafts time! He wasn't so sure about the frozen paint shape, and he was more interested in wiping the paint on his next-door-neighbor's hair, but it was so, so, SO fun to watch him engage in what will become daily creativity and sensory exercises.

These teachers really have this stuff down to a science: the rest of the kiddos at the table watch and wait their turns as each teacher works with one child at a time. I imagined ten little hands smearing paint all over themselves while eating the paper they were to paint on, but Miss Rose and Miss Steph have everything under control. The kids get a little artistic expression mixed with lessons on patience and fairness.

Cayden was even more independent today, and even shared toys with another little boy, completely oblivious to Daddy and my presence in the corner of the room. I think this will be a great transition for him, come next Thursday!

When we got home this afternoon, after spending some time at Grandma and PopPop's getting ready for tomorrow's Big First Birthday Bash, I decided to try some arts and crafts time of my own.

So we got out the toddler crayons again (thanks to the early birthday present from Avery), and I'll be darned if Cayden didn't pick it up pretty quickly and create his first scribble-drawing for us.

Then the eldest cat puked, so I went into the office for a few minutes to clean it up.

Silly me, leaving a one year old alone with crayon tips.

I returned to Cayden, in his room, with blue smears all over his face. Thank God the people at Crayola are smart enough to create non-toxic crayons, because I'm sure we'll be finding a little chunk of blue in tomorrow's diaper. I even had to brush his six little teeth, to find some white nubs under all that blue wax.

Oh, did I mention the younger cat ate the string off Cayden's Lil Snoopy? Yeah, the red leash was apparently too much for the little hair-tie and shoe lace eating bugger to resist. First we discovered the puppy earlier this week, with a six-inch leash, instead of the leash he came with when one of my generous co-workers passed the toy along. Then yesterday Brian discovered the damn cat had a good inch and a half of leash hanging out his ass. We waited a day for him to pass it on his own, then I took matters into my own hands and tugged it out this afternoon.

So in the span of an hour, I was blessed to have the opportunity to clean up cat vomit, pry crayon chunks out of my boy's mouth, then remove part of a child's toy from the other cat's ass.

It was a productive afternoon. And I washed my hands A LOT.

Guess what else makes a great walker...

2010-07-30T21:25:00.001-04:00

...a kiddo chair at the pediatrician's office. My boy walked it all over the office, doing laps around the waiting area. This was just before his haircut, hence the shaggamuffin head.

Chicken is doing just fine, and still in the 95th-97th percentile for weight, height and head circumference. And now he's cleared for honey, egg whites and milk. Peanut butter and shellfish will have to wait another six months or so.

Doc Baker called Cayden's out-pointing left foot (when he walks) "tortion", and said it should correct itself within a few years. Mimi was glad to hear it's nothing to worry about.

First haircut: Now I know why they have lollipops at barber shops

2010-07-29T16:56:00.001-04:00

He slept through the first few minutes, and after that dum-dums and Dragon: the Bruce Lee Story served as distractions from the clippers buzzing around his head.

We had hoped Daddy's barber, Cory, could give the first official hair cut, but he is on vacation this week. But Jose did a great job, just in time for Saturday's party.

July 28, 2010

2010-07-29T16:44:00.000-04:00

The one year anniversary of your birth. And what a wonderful birthday it was, filled with heaping gobs of love and spoiling from all your family.

A special shirt and ribbon for a special boy, who spent the day with Mimi, Grandma, Grandpa and Auntie ColeCole. Your first candle flickered in a blueberry muffin after lunch.

And then you got to spend the evening with all the other side: Grammy, Grand-dude, Uncle Jeff and Aunt Lauren. Your Uncle and Aunt planned a wonderful mini-party for your birthday dinner, complete with balloons (your favorite!) and cupcakes. Splenda cupcakes, because they didn't want you to have too much sugar before bed. Boy do you like love-you cupcakes.

And even though your party isn't for a couple more days, you got to open family presents throughout the day and play with new toys.

You got to stay up past your bedtime on your birthday, which scared Daddy but pleased Mama because I had been secretly hoping to be able to snuggle you at the exact moment you turned One.

And I held it together all day long, I did, until bedtime. When, after your bath and lotion and jammies, I snuck you off for some serious one-on-one cuddling. And together, alone, the tears came fast and full. You nursed yourself to dreamland while I whispered to you and prayed for you. Thanked you and God for all the joy, blessings, lessons and fulfillment we've been graciously granted over the last year of our lives, the first year of your life. Tears of happiness blended with tears of sadness, and before I knew it, your hair was soaking wet with all the love and pride pouring from my eyes.

And then I realized a huge string of congested, silent-crying snot stretched from my nose to your face, and I couldn't help but laugh at the royal birthday sliming I was giving you in your sleep.

I recited your night-time prayer to you and whispered goodnight into your ear, just as the clock struck 8:31 p.m. And then I laid with you quietly, until Daddy came in a couple of minutes later to steal his own kisses from our one year old boy, and wipe my tears.

Happy Birthday, my love. Thank you for making me a Mama, and opening my eyes to the wonder and bliss of this responsibility. You are my little slice of Heaven on Earth, and I love you more than you know.

Not quite one, yet

2010-07-28T07:53:00.002-04:00

OK, so there's less than 13 hours to go, but Chicken isn't one year old, quite yet.

But since today is the big day, he got a special shirt and button to wear.

And he's polishing his pointing skills. Pointing with a finger, that is, instead of his hand or fist.

Guess who suddenly likes walkers?

2010-07-27T19:49:00.005-04:00

THIS guy.

He finally stood up behind his hippo at home last Thursday, a week before his birthday. And later that day he wobbled behind multiple walkers during his second visit to school.

Oh, he also really likes the doggie rocker at school.

And he joined the group to play, rather than stay solo on his own.

But back to the subject at hand: walking. At first Chicken was unsure of walking behind the hippo on the hardwood (preferring it on carpet), but now he cruises down the hall much more confidently. Granted, he's still not completely stable, but he's making progress.

Oh, and there's standing. This morning he let go of the coffee table and stood for a few seconds on his own (while holding the remote and trying to figure it out) before returning his hand to the table for balance.

On a positive note

2010-07-26T20:09:00.001-04:00

The past week has been full of face-scrunching, arm-stretching hand-pointing -- as in pointing mostly with his entire hand, not quite aware that the pointer finger is key -- and enthusiastic OH's.

Maybe a few DaDa's sprinkled in there, and the usual CaCa's.

Plus one new one: Cheesh-sheesh. Any guesses? It's cheese, of course.

Cayden's vocabulary hasn't quite established itself with any clearly identifiable patterns of words and associations, but darned if he isn't trying to figure it all out.

Unsettled

2010-07-26T07:39:00.002-04:00

You know that subtle gloomy feeling that sneaks in on Sunday evenings and Monday mornings, that slight dread for all the not-so-much-fun that the beginning of a week brings with it?

Yeah, multiply that by about a zillion and you get to where I'm at.

I'll attempt to keep the bitching at a minimum, but it's all I've got right now. Some inspiration, eh?

Last week ended my year of parental leave. I'm taking two paid days off later this week to round out my year of long weekends, and I get a lump in my throat every time I think about the end of this week.

The official end of infancy. (Even though Brian argues the boy hasn't been an infant for months)

The return of full-time work.

The start of daycare two days a week.

And other, yet-to-be-determined changes in the near future.

Yes, please, I'd like the clock to come to a screetching halt right about now. Because I'm just not that good at change.

I know Cayden will benefit immensely from the socialization his part-time school will offer. I know I've been luckier than many in having been able to work part-time for a year. I know -- from having returned to work part-time three months after Cayden's birth -- the anticipation is far, far worse than the changes themselves. I know we'll figure out a new routine of cleaning and errand-running and quality family time. I know there is so much to look forward to this fall. And I surely know our bank account could use a few full-time paychecks.

But that all that conscious knowledge in the back of my head doesn't stand a chance against the emotional, irrational thoughts at the forefront of my brain, and I'm desperate for things to stay the way they are now.

Back in October Brian repeatedly reminded me the gypsies weren't coming to take my baby when I had to part with him three days a week.

This past weekend he assured me my boy won't face a firing squad when I resume a full-time schedule next Monday.

I know my boy will adjust wonderfully. It's me I'm selfishly worried about. One day at a time, I guess.

If only each of those days could stretch on forever.

Ignorance may be bliss, but avoidance is survival

2010-07-21T21:19:00.000-04:00

A week from today is the big b-day. But that's seven days off, so there's no sense wasting this long weekend worrying about that milestone.

Avoidance: it's become my primary coping mechanism of late. I haven't even put pen to paper in planning or ordered a single thing yet for Cayden's party next weekend. Well, except the photographer, our one splurge.

I just know the reality of his first birthday and the end of his infancy is going to crash down on me someday very soon, bringing with it heaving sobs and desperate wishes for more time with my baby boy. But I'm consciously avoiding that realization with all I've got, preoccupying myself with other things and not daring to think further ahead than the day in front of me.

Like a long weekend trip to Jim Thorpe for a lakeside picnic, a wine festival, deer spotting, woods walking, some small-town shopping and some good ol' family time.

Convenient, how living for today is the perfect cover for retreating from and making a deliberate effort to ignore the imminent future.

Cold Turkey

2010-07-19T19:57:00.000-04:00

That's how we're quitting pumping and bottles: Cold turkey.

Because after 10 days away from the pump, I really couldn't stomach the thought of hooking up any more, knowing full-well that I have more than 20 baggies of milk left to get through my last six work days before Cayden turns one.

I had gone down to two pumps a day the three work days before we left for the beach, and I didn't feel any difference at all.

So this morning I left for work confident that my pumping days for my first-born are over. So confident in fact, I wore a real bra and a dress. You know, the kind of dress that would have to be pulled all the way up or all the way down to get to the boobies. The kind of dress that has only graced my body three or four times since Cayden was born, because it's just easier to access the boobs wearing tops and bottoms.

I did have my pump at hand just in case engorgement struck, but I didn't need it. The first no-pump workday in 8.5 months proved a success.

And since I was making a transition, we decided Cayden might as well, too. He's used sippy cups for some time now with water, but typically he still drinks pumped milk out of bottles (with newborn nipples, no less, because we never stepped up). He's had a sippy of milk every now and then, and other than a little spillage due to the faster flow, he's had no issue.

So today we sent a little extra milk to Grandma's (to accommodate said spillage), along with two sippys: one for water; one for milk. No bottles. And he seemed to do just fine.

Time to pack up the Avents and Ameda until next time around, folks!

But we'll keep nursing mornings, evenings and non-workdays for the forseeable future. I promised Brian that Cayden would be completely weaned by the time he's six, and I'm sticking to it.

Kidding! (kind of)

This one's for Aunt G.

2010-07-18T17:56:00.005-04:00

Who regularly kids about the thousands of pictures we take of Cayden, who she swears is the most photographed kid on Earth.

Well, his first year album doesn't contain all 1,746 pictures (kidding, I have no idea how many pictures we have in all), but it does contain 258 photos and a bunch of blog posts in 71 pages.

And it's done, and will be here by his first birthday party!!!

And I decided not to post a beach review; instead, check out pages 58 through 63 of the book.

P.S.: if anyone else is working on a photobook or would like to order one by August 31, I can send you the code I used to get 50 percent off my book.

Fifth anniversary, at the beach

2010-07-17T12:13:00.000-04:00

I can't decide which one I like better.

Thanks to Rachel for the photos from yesterday!

Take care of the place while we're gone

2010-07-09T21:00:00.002-04:00

Uggh. A band of groundhogs has invaded our garden, despite our attempts to keep them out with a fence.

At least we got one decent harvest of cucumbers and yellow beans before the little one figured out how to dig under the fence and squeeze in to gnaw many of our plants to the ground.

So while we were looking forward to a plethora of beans, peas, tomatoes, peppers, squash and cucumbers when we got home from the beach, it looks like we may have a barren garden by then.

"Damn groundhog gopher assholes," as Brian so eloquently put it.

First visit to school

2010-07-09T13:29:00.011-04:00

This morning Cayden got to visit school to interact with his soon-to-be classmates for the first time.

We're still so, so impressed with U-Gro.

Murals cover the hallway walls.

The Bear's cubbies, toys and arts-and-crafts display (on either side of the colored bears on the wall)

This is how you feed 10 kids at a time

Meeting Miss Rose (she won him over with Cheerios)

Exploring the play area

Checking out new friends

And taking off on a walk!

Oh, and here's the crazy indoor play gym Cayden will use on rainy days when he's bigger

Bad Mama. Bad, bad Mama.

2010-07-07T16:32:00.001-04:00

Although I'm starting to feel better, I felt like a real ass for the past couple of days. Why? Because I blindly listened to the pediatrician's generalized, yet repeated advice, rather than tune into my baby and those who help care for him.

After a horrible, horrible few nights of sleep last weekend -- Cayden up every hour, and whining at one point for as long as 90 minutes -- I finally abandoned my hard-line, "he's got to learn to comfort himself and go back to sleep on his own; for God's sake we'll be at the BEACH in a week -- he's got to outgrow this neediness by then!" approach to consider that something else may be at play.

Coincidentally, his repeated "viral infections" in his diaper flamed up really bad this past weekend: white blisters on his nuggets, and a raw, red butt-crack.

When my mother-in-law pointed out for what must have been the seventh time that even Chicken's clean cloth diapers smell like pee (she doubted the doc's diagnosis long, long before I did), something finally cracked loose in my head to make me look at this situation in a new light.

To to the Internet I went: cloth diaper message boards, babycenter.com and Google. And after really minimal searching, it became abundantly clear that we were not in fact battling recurring viral infections; rather we were suffering a relatively common cloth diaper condition that many pediatricians are simply unfamiliar with, due to the prevalence of sposies today: ammonia burn.

**Insert deep, dark, ominous cloud of guilt that has hung over me for days**

Over time our diapers have built up ammonia, and now even the clean ones maintain the stuff, so that as soon as Cayden pees, the smell rivals that of cat piss. Having become quite familiar with -- and perhaps immune to -- the noxious smell of cat piss over the span of Spike's cathederized-way-too-many-times life, I really, truly thought that the strong ammonia smell from Cayden's diapers was just the smell of normal baby pee.

But the smell isn't the worst part. It's the ammonia itself, which is caustic enough to actually burn the poor kid's sensitive skin.

Yeah, I was letting my kid's pee burn his nuggets and butt.

But now we know what the problem is, and after only two days in sposies, Cayden's bits are nearly all healed up. And our entire lot of cloth diapers is going through a thorough stripping right now. Hopefully, a little bit of Dawn dish detergent, a little bit of bleach and a whole, whole lot of hot water later, our diapers will be as good as new and ready to use as soon as we get home from the beach.

Thank goodness he's too little to maintain any memories of the piss torture his mother put him through at eleven months of age. :(

Date night fail

2010-07-05T15:42:00.002-04:00

Last night Uncle Jeff and Aunt Lauren were generous enough to offer to take baby-Cayd for a few hours, so Mama and Daddy could enjoy a date night.

But after a very, very busy weekend (daytrip Thursday, hosted friends Friday night, Saturday sawed/moved a tree then went to a graduation pool party) and very poor sleep lately (Cayden has been waking every hour or so for the past two or three nights), date night ended up being less than we had anticipated.

After struggling to figure out what to do on a fourth-of-July Sunday afternoon/evening, then struggling to decide what to wear to an early dinner out, then struggling to find a restaurant that would please both of us, we found ourselves at a little Italian place in Hershey.

But any plans for an extended date night were dashed, when, upon finishing dinner and two beers each, we decided to head home at 5:30 p.m. to take advantage of the baby-less peace and quiet. To NAP.

But Shorty had fun swimmin in his tub outside with Lauren and Jeff while Mama and Daddy got some much-needed shut-eye.

Cayden and Avery, sittin' in a tree

2010-07-04T21:04:00.002-04:00

Remember that little romance I alluded to about a week ago?

Here are Cayden and Avery Friday night.

Besides the unbearable cuteness of little kids kissing, I get a kick out of this picture for another reason. Because it demonstrates how 26 pounds can look completely different on two different kids, since both of these tots are the same weight. And because it shows off the disproportionately large skull junior inherited from his Papa.

Yay for daytrips!

2010-07-01T19:57:00.016-04:00

Today was a really, really good family day. A warm-and-fuzzy-feeling kind of family day.

Today we took a daytrip to Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, a trip I'd been looking forward to taking with Cayden since we first visited the impressive horticultural exhibition last holiday season. We had a ball last winter, and I remember imagining then taking my little boy this summer, to see how the grounds, fountains and plant showcases would change from the Christmas displays.

We were totally impressed with the conservatory and displays of Christmas lights a few months ago, so we couldn't believe how much more there is to see and explore in warmer months!

We couldn't have asked for a more perfect day: bright sunshine balanced by refreshingly cool breezes and humidity-free, temperate air. Perfect for walking through the woods, meadow, fountains, conservatory and gardens. There is a really neat scent and fragrance exhibition throughout the Conservatory that Brian and I enjoyed (although we'd love to know how they concentrate all the smells into the little scent tubes that puff, puff the frangrances into your nostrils), and Cayden just took in all the colors and sights with big, wide saucer-eyes.

His favorite parts were the water displays. First he gawked at the Italian Water Garden, and an hour or so later he dove right in to the interactive Children's Garden in the conservatory, where there were water fountains to splash in everywhere.

He did miss the main fountain show at noon, because he was under the hooter hider enjoying a little milky snack. But the fountain show was a nice momentary rest for Mama and Daddy.

Then we explored the conservatory -- where the orchid room was as impressive as it was a few months ago, where we found the most amazingly fragrant rosemary we'd ever smelled and where we delighted in the water lily exhibition that was really, really mind-blowing (ever hear of giant water platters? C.R.A.Z.Y).

And shortly after the water lily exhibition, Chicken started rubbing his eyes, ready for a nap. So nap he did, in the Ergo, snug as a bug with his thumb and blankie tucked up under the privacy hood.

We kept walking, exploring the veggie gardens and perennial "idea garden", which, rather than inspire us with ideas about how to do our own home landscaping as it is is meant to do, actually intimidated us by all its beauty to tuck our tails between our legs and reluctantly realize that we will never, ever have the green thumbs and impressive flower beds we once thought we could. But that's OK, because we can always come back to Longwood to see how flower beds are really supposed to look.

And we finished off the wonderful daytrip with a picnic lunch -- gourmet wraps prepared and packed by Daddy for the big kids; bananas, yogurt and hummous bread for the little kid -- under wonderful shade trees..

This is exactly the kind of fun family time I want to over-stuff into the next month and savor like crazy before ...

Well, let's just leave it at that, because I don't want to ruin a wonderful, fantastic, perfect day with worries about what's to come.

From functional to perky once more: a month to go...

2010-06-30T07:35:00.001-04:00

So today is the last day I'll pump thrice at work. Next week I'll take it down to two pumpings, and I'll drop to one pump per workday the last week of July, after a week of vacation and a second week of two pumps per workday.

But you know what I'm looking forward to even more than dropping pumping out of my life for a year or few?

Wearing regular, supportive, attractive, flattering and wonderfully deceptive REGULAR BRAS again!

In the past year I can count on one hand the number of times I've worn a regular bra. No joke; stories of mastitis attributed to underwires scared the bejeezus out of me. I think I wore a regular bra once for my birthday dinner, once for a graduation party and once about a month or so ago just 'cause I felt like it. Other than that, it's been nothing but nursing bras and nursing tanks, because the little clippies and drop-down front panels are just so, so convenient, what when you're exposing your boobs five to 12 times a day.

Funny, because I was so, so anti-nursing attire before I gave birth. "What a silly waste of money" I remember thinking to myself, back when I knew it all, confident that it was just as easy to pull a regular or sports bra up or down to nurse.

Then I had a real baby, promptly ate my "I will never" words and made my first trip to Target for nursing bras and tanks.

Thank you Gilligan and O'Malley: My four bras and three tanks have served me well for 11 months, but I'm ready to be done with them and re-enter the world of perky, underwire supported boobs.

Granted, that's largely because a near-year of nursing has left my girls a bit, well, deflated. Not quite National Geographic material, but certainly not the confidence-inspiring rack I took pride in pre-baby.

But now I can really, fully appreciate the scientific wonders of wires and padding (smoke and mirrors, if you will), and I'm excited to artificially prop up the boobs and deceivingly present (or misrepresent) that with which nature has left me.

I'm vain like that. :)

I know the boobs aren't what they used to be. The hubs knows the same. But no one else needs to know, because underwire bras are AWESOME. Well, no one other than those who read this little entry.

So I splurged last week on two new bras from Vickie's, which were fantastically knocked down to $16 each at the end of the summer semi-annual sale. So that's like $80 worth of bras for $32.

So what if a handful of early-twenty-something shoppers shot me disdainful glances as I clumsily finegaled my way-too-big-for-the-over-cramped-retail-aisles stroller through the towers of bras and panties? So what if a sales associate watched desperately as Cayden unloaded all over the floor the drawer-full of bras she had just finished carefully folding and sorting. So what if the fitting room attendant reluctantly let me into the handicapped stall so that I could prop Chicken in front of the mirror and still have room to move around?

The bottom line is this: I got me some new, fantastic regular bras, and I got them on the cheap.

And if Vickie's doesn't vacuum their floors regularly like any good retail business should, then they deserve the ants I'm sure our trail of raisins and oaty-oh's will attract. :)