Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Dear Spammers
I am not going to allow you to leave comments that read like nonsense and include crappy links to spam sites that sell your jackets or your online degrees or whatever it is that has nothing whatsoever to do with anything this blog was about. Quit trying to comment spam my blog. Seriously. Knock it off.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Baby Turns Two
Ignoring the (sad and shocking) fact that this is the first update since February, and moving on to today.
Fiona turned two today. She is officially a toddler, a child. Not a baby anymore, although her impossibly chubby cheeks and thighs beg to differ. I remember a year ago doing something similar to what I did today, albeit with more fervor being still so close to the year prior. There were several moments of, "Two years ago right now, I was knee deep in the misery known as labor. Two years ago right now, I was realizing there was no turning back. Two years ago right now, I became a mother."
But Fiona's second birthday today seems to be much more about her than her first birthday was. Last year we had a big party with friends and family. There was a huge cake, presents galore, older (and a few younger) children galloping around the place like little fiends. And there was Fiona, who really couldn't have cared less. But for M and me, it was a serious milestone. We had survived our first year as parents. This year the party counted just the three of us, an oversize cupcake to share, the video camera, and a couple of presents. It appears as though M and I also survived our second year of parenthood, though not without some scars and long term trauma. Most importantly, Fiona survived it, too, and with not a little aplomb.
What's next on the agenda? Well, after cake and presents, a quick video chat with Nae Nae out in Arizona, a bath to deal with the remnants of cake, and one final singing of "Happy Birthday," Fiona's in bed, and I'm left to wonder what on earth really is next. It's been pretty easy up to this point. Fiona has her issues, but we've dealt with them as best we could. But she's starting to get stuff now that she's getting older, and I'm exaggerating only a little when I say I think she may be smarter than I am. How we will manage this is beyond me. But then, it's quite possible that two years ago right now, I was thinking the exact same thing.
Fiona turned two today. She is officially a toddler, a child. Not a baby anymore, although her impossibly chubby cheeks and thighs beg to differ. I remember a year ago doing something similar to what I did today, albeit with more fervor being still so close to the year prior. There were several moments of, "Two years ago right now, I was knee deep in the misery known as labor. Two years ago right now, I was realizing there was no turning back. Two years ago right now, I became a mother."
But Fiona's second birthday today seems to be much more about her than her first birthday was. Last year we had a big party with friends and family. There was a huge cake, presents galore, older (and a few younger) children galloping around the place like little fiends. And there was Fiona, who really couldn't have cared less. But for M and me, it was a serious milestone. We had survived our first year as parents. This year the party counted just the three of us, an oversize cupcake to share, the video camera, and a couple of presents. It appears as though M and I also survived our second year of parenthood, though not without some scars and long term trauma. Most importantly, Fiona survived it, too, and with not a little aplomb.
What's next on the agenda? Well, after cake and presents, a quick video chat with Nae Nae out in Arizona, a bath to deal with the remnants of cake, and one final singing of "Happy Birthday," Fiona's in bed, and I'm left to wonder what on earth really is next. It's been pretty easy up to this point. Fiona has her issues, but we've dealt with them as best we could. But she's starting to get stuff now that she's getting older, and I'm exaggerating only a little when I say I think she may be smarter than I am. How we will manage this is beyond me. But then, it's quite possible that two years ago right now, I was thinking the exact same thing.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Favorite Photo Fridays - February 13
Only one this week. I think you'll be able to see why.
My child is freaking AWESOME!
Happy Valentine's Day, Everyone!!
My child is freaking AWESOME!
Happy Valentine's Day, Everyone!!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
UPDATE! CPSIA Delayed for one year!
Great news!
The CPSC has granted a one-year stay on the requirements for testing certain products.
This is the result of the actions of countless people making their voices heard. What a great country we live in!
Read more about it at the CPSC Website. In short,
"The stay of enforcement provides some temporary, limited relief to the crafters, children’s garment manufacturers and toy makers who had been subject to the testing and certification required under the CPSIA. These businesses will not need to issue certificates based on testing of their products until additional decisions are issued by the Commission. However, all businesses, including, but not limited to, handmade toy and apparel makers, crafters and home-based small businesses, must still be sure that their products conform to all safety standards and similar requirements, including the lead and phthalates provisions of the CPSIA.
Handmade garment makers are cautioned to know whether the zippers, buttons and other fasteners they are using contain lead. Likewise, handmade toy manufacturers need to know whether their products, if using plastic or soft flexible vinyl, contain phthalates."
So while it's not necessarily a done deal permanently, this allows for enough time to put in additional feedback and make sure the law is written correctly.
The CPSC has granted a one-year stay on the requirements for testing certain products.
This is the result of the actions of countless people making their voices heard. What a great country we live in!
Read more about it at the CPSC Website. In short,
"The stay of enforcement provides some temporary, limited relief to the crafters, children’s garment manufacturers and toy makers who had been subject to the testing and certification required under the CPSIA. These businesses will not need to issue certificates based on testing of their products until additional decisions are issued by the Commission. However, all businesses, including, but not limited to, handmade toy and apparel makers, crafters and home-based small businesses, must still be sure that their products conform to all safety standards and similar requirements, including the lead and phthalates provisions of the CPSIA.
Handmade garment makers are cautioned to know whether the zippers, buttons and other fasteners they are using contain lead. Likewise, handmade toy manufacturers need to know whether their products, if using plastic or soft flexible vinyl, contain phthalates."
So while it's not necessarily a done deal permanently, this allows for enough time to put in additional feedback and make sure the law is written correctly.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Favorite Photo Fridays - January 30
By popular request, I'm getting myself in gear with some exciting new favorite photos of young Miss Fiona. With one month of 2009 already almost in the can, perhaps it's time I start working on my New Year Resolution to post more on this blog. Because goodness knows, you people deserve it!
Enough chatter. On to the good stuff!
1) This one was taken in late December. I can't handle the awesomeness of these blue eyes.
2) Another late December shot. We were psyched that Fiona had eaten all her green beans. Of course, she loves green beans, so she always eats all of them. Maybe we were just looking for an excuse to high five.
3) Fiona makes this funny little face when she's particularly happy and running around the house like a tiny fiend. It never fails to make me laugh out loud.
Enough chatter. On to the good stuff!
1) This one was taken in late December. I can't handle the awesomeness of these blue eyes.
2) Another late December shot. We were psyched that Fiona had eaten all her green beans. Of course, she loves green beans, so she always eats all of them. Maybe we were just looking for an excuse to high five.
3) Fiona makes this funny little face when she's particularly happy and running around the house like a tiny fiend. It never fails to make me laugh out loud.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Slightly OT: Like supporting small home-based business? Yeah, me too...
Ever since I found out I was pregnant with Fiona, I've been addicted to the Web and all the glorious shopping opportunities it offers. There must be millions (ok, maybe just thousands) of small, home-based businesses out there that make awesome, unique, beautiful, and reasonably-priced stuff for babies and mommies. And that's pretty valuable in a world of the cookie-cutter, generic crap you'll find in Babies R Us and other such stores.
I'll be honest, I have done my fair share of shopping at BRU - heck, I even had a baby registry there. But that was more out of a sense of ease. I was able to find most of the basics of baby-rearing at BRU, and people who wanted to give gifts from a registry had it easy between the stores and the online option. But I wasn't super-psyched about it. Most mass-produced stuff for babies is garish, frilly, or just outright ugly. And that's fine if you like that kind of thing. M and I do not.
So back to the glorious shopping opportunities. When I was researching cloth diapers, I found a small affordable producer and bought a bunch of her adorable flannel all-in-ones. When I couldn't stomach the price of a sexy Hotsling or Mayawrap - especially without knowing how Fiona would respond to a sling - I went on eBay and found a woman who makes beautiful, simple slings. And Fiona and I loved it. When it came to The Great Bedding Search of 2007, I managed to track down a company that made cute, semi-affordable stuff that was made in the U.S.A. What's not to like about that? And a co-worker makes the most adorable sock monkeys you've ever seen, selling them on Etsy (incidentally, the best site EVER).
OK, so I have a point to all this. The point is early next month on February 10th, the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act goes into effect, and this spells very bad news for a huge number of these small home-based businesses. It sounds like a fine idea. After all, who among us doesn't want to strengthen the requirements for testing and ensuring the products our kids wear, play with, and use don't contain toxic chemicals?
The problem with the CPSIA is that it requires every component of every toy, article of clothing, or other item intended for use by children under the age of 12 for lead and phthalates, and this can be a very expensive process. A process only large producers of these types of goods can afford. It's a well-intended law that was clearly created without much forethought. The cost of testing will be too much of a burden on small businesses, and they will be forced out.
Which means no more adorable bibs from craft fairs (like my mother-in-law bought Fiona for Christmas). No more cool jackets, like this one that I am coveting like crazy. No more adorable and affordable cloth diapers. To that I say, "BOOOOOOOOOO!"
What can you do to help? Contact your representatives. Tell them this law is great in theory, but really screws the little guy. Check out CoolMomPicks for some excellent resources and even more information. And thanks for your consideration!
I'll be honest, I have done my fair share of shopping at BRU - heck, I even had a baby registry there. But that was more out of a sense of ease. I was able to find most of the basics of baby-rearing at BRU, and people who wanted to give gifts from a registry had it easy between the stores and the online option. But I wasn't super-psyched about it. Most mass-produced stuff for babies is garish, frilly, or just outright ugly. And that's fine if you like that kind of thing. M and I do not.
So back to the glorious shopping opportunities. When I was researching cloth diapers, I found a small affordable producer and bought a bunch of her adorable flannel all-in-ones. When I couldn't stomach the price of a sexy Hotsling or Mayawrap - especially without knowing how Fiona would respond to a sling - I went on eBay and found a woman who makes beautiful, simple slings. And Fiona and I loved it. When it came to The Great Bedding Search of 2007, I managed to track down a company that made cute, semi-affordable stuff that was made in the U.S.A. What's not to like about that? And a co-worker makes the most adorable sock monkeys you've ever seen, selling them on Etsy (incidentally, the best site EVER).
OK, so I have a point to all this. The point is early next month on February 10th, the Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act goes into effect, and this spells very bad news for a huge number of these small home-based businesses. It sounds like a fine idea. After all, who among us doesn't want to strengthen the requirements for testing and ensuring the products our kids wear, play with, and use don't contain toxic chemicals?
The problem with the CPSIA is that it requires every component of every toy, article of clothing, or other item intended for use by children under the age of 12 for lead and phthalates, and this can be a very expensive process. A process only large producers of these types of goods can afford. It's a well-intended law that was clearly created without much forethought. The cost of testing will be too much of a burden on small businesses, and they will be forced out.
Which means no more adorable bibs from craft fairs (like my mother-in-law bought Fiona for Christmas). No more cool jackets, like this one that I am coveting like crazy. No more adorable and affordable cloth diapers. To that I say, "BOOOOOOOOOO!"
What can you do to help? Contact your representatives. Tell them this law is great in theory, but really screws the little guy. Check out CoolMomPicks for some excellent resources and even more information. And thanks for your consideration!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Favorite Photo Fridays - November 14
As if the fact that it's Friday and the weekend starts in approximately 4 hours isn't enough! New favorite photos, coming at you in 3...2...1...
All of these were taken in the latter half of October. In the first two, you can see that Fiona had recently discovered Ollie's bed was awfully fun to hang out in - especially when he was in it. I love the first one because she just looks so damn pleased with her situation. Meanwhile, Ollie is just tolerating it. He's a pain in the ass in a lot of ways, but he's really good with Fi, and I consider us very lucky in that regard.
The other two are from an apple picking trip we took in Franklin, MA, with some dear friends and their one-year-old son, Ethan. What's cuter than two little fall babies hanging out together and eating apples straight off the tree?
Happy weekend, all!
All of these were taken in the latter half of October. In the first two, you can see that Fiona had recently discovered Ollie's bed was awfully fun to hang out in - especially when he was in it. I love the first one because she just looks so damn pleased with her situation. Meanwhile, Ollie is just tolerating it. He's a pain in the ass in a lot of ways, but he's really good with Fi, and I consider us very lucky in that regard.
The other two are from an apple picking trip we took in Franklin, MA, with some dear friends and their one-year-old son, Ethan. What's cuter than two little fall babies hanging out together and eating apples straight off the tree?
Happy weekend, all!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Too tired to eat lunch
In my post yesterday, I mentioned that Fiona managed to sleep through what sounded like a small army of elephants playing cricket on our roof. I guess I shouldn't have been all that surprised. I mean, she was really, REALLY tired, as evidenced in this terribly cute and amusing video. Poor little shaver!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Baby + Tired = Not waking up for ANYTHING
I've always known the old adage, "babies can sleep through anything." I'd witnessed the strange ability for babies and toddlers to shut out the noisy world around them and have a nap. It's uncanny, really.
But then of course, there are the times when even the slightest hint of a noise will wake a slumbering child into an upright shrieking banshee. Seriously, how do they do that? Fiona has scared the bejebus out of me more than once when I've walked into her room late at night to check in on her - silently as a cat - only to have her suddenly rise from her prone position - also silently as a cat - staring at me with those big blue eyes of hers. Sometimes I think she must still be asleep when she does that because leaving the room has no ill effect. Other times, naturally, if you're caught sneaking into the baby's room, she will make you pay. She will make your eardrums pay. She will make your own need for sleep pay. This stock-straight standing thing she occasionally does when roused from sleep by a mere whisper of sound reminds me of movies where dead bodies in morgues suddenly sit up with their sheets still over their head. Yeah, it's that creepy.
OK, sorry, I got distracted. So, babies sleep through anything. Yes, back to that. Today Fiona amazed me most of all. I put her down for a nap a little after noon when she was so tired she fell asleep while I was feeding her. And of course, not 10 minutes later, the roofers (expected either today or tomorrow) showed up. And they immediately set up their first ladder directly in front of Fiona's window. And proceeded to clomp all over the roof of the house as they ripped it to shreds.
I cannot emphasize this next part enough: this shit was LOUD, people. LOUD! Had I not known what was going on up there, I would have been scared out of my mind. Actually, even knowing what it was I was a little scared. I think it was only 5 guys, but it sounded like 50. And it went on for nearly three hours. Pounding, pulling, banging, clomping, crashing.
And that baby didn't even so much as peep. I'll grant that she's obviously still under the weather from her cold; and it was significantly later in the day than she's used to taking her first nap (at least on the days she's home with me). I also put a small fan in her room for a bit of extra white noise. But this was the equivalent of a herd of elephants stomping across the roof! Really?? Fiona will pop to life at the sound of the teeny, tiny click her door makes when I come in her room, but will sleep like, well, a baby during the cacophony we heard today? Well. OK, then. Maybe that means I don't need to tiptoe around this joint so much at night.
But then of course, there are the times when even the slightest hint of a noise will wake a slumbering child into an upright shrieking banshee. Seriously, how do they do that? Fiona has scared the bejebus out of me more than once when I've walked into her room late at night to check in on her - silently as a cat - only to have her suddenly rise from her prone position - also silently as a cat - staring at me with those big blue eyes of hers. Sometimes I think she must still be asleep when she does that because leaving the room has no ill effect. Other times, naturally, if you're caught sneaking into the baby's room, she will make you pay. She will make your eardrums pay. She will make your own need for sleep pay. This stock-straight standing thing she occasionally does when roused from sleep by a mere whisper of sound reminds me of movies where dead bodies in morgues suddenly sit up with their sheets still over their head. Yeah, it's that creepy.
OK, sorry, I got distracted. So, babies sleep through anything. Yes, back to that. Today Fiona amazed me most of all. I put her down for a nap a little after noon when she was so tired she fell asleep while I was feeding her. And of course, not 10 minutes later, the roofers (expected either today or tomorrow) showed up. And they immediately set up their first ladder directly in front of Fiona's window. And proceeded to clomp all over the roof of the house as they ripped it to shreds.
I cannot emphasize this next part enough: this shit was LOUD, people. LOUD! Had I not known what was going on up there, I would have been scared out of my mind. Actually, even knowing what it was I was a little scared. I think it was only 5 guys, but it sounded like 50. And it went on for nearly three hours. Pounding, pulling, banging, clomping, crashing.
And that baby didn't even so much as peep. I'll grant that she's obviously still under the weather from her cold; and it was significantly later in the day than she's used to taking her first nap (at least on the days she's home with me). I also put a small fan in her room for a bit of extra white noise. But this was the equivalent of a herd of elephants stomping across the roof! Really?? Fiona will pop to life at the sound of the teeny, tiny click her door makes when I come in her room, but will sleep like, well, a baby during the cacophony we heard today? Well. OK, then. Maybe that means I don't need to tiptoe around this joint so much at night.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Baby's First Cold
It had to happen sometime. After almost 15 months of blissfully good health, Fiona finally got her first cold. It came on subtly: last Thursday she was just a little off, not too interested in food, kinda crabby. Friday morning when she woke up, she had a thoroughly crusty nose, and my mother-in-law informed me later that day that Fi was officially a sick little puppy. She was in good spirits, though, and played most of the day with her usual vigor.
Of course, when I showed up to pick her up that evening she took one look at me and remembered that she was sick and demanded some love and attention, which I gladly dispensed to my usually independent child. By Saturday evening, she was still congested but apparently feeling better. Not so on Sunday. More congestion, more crabby. Poor little shaver. As of today, she's on the mend again, but I have her humidifier on full blast to do as much as I can to alleviate the snot block going on in her wee noggin.
The dreaded toddler cold couldn't be held at bay forever. Lots of things conspired against poor Fiona. On Halloween morning, we visited a day care just to check it out, and she naturally got her little hands all over all kinds of stuff that lots of other little hands had been on. Then the day after Halloween we had a party that was overrun with other kids, much to Fi's delight; much toy-sharing and drool exchange transpired. The following Tuesday, I took her to the pediatrician fearing she had an ear infection (no ear infection; apparently, she's an ear tugger). Her immune system - no longer benefiting from the antibodies in breastmilk - just couldn't withstand those voracious germs.
Still, we weathered this first cold pretty well, I think. She has continued to sleep like a champ (14 hours a day!) and still finds great comfort in food. Especially apples, which she enjoys gnawing on while walking around the house. All in all, it could have been worse.
Of course, when I showed up to pick her up that evening she took one look at me and remembered that she was sick and demanded some love and attention, which I gladly dispensed to my usually independent child. By Saturday evening, she was still congested but apparently feeling better. Not so on Sunday. More congestion, more crabby. Poor little shaver. As of today, she's on the mend again, but I have her humidifier on full blast to do as much as I can to alleviate the snot block going on in her wee noggin.
The dreaded toddler cold couldn't be held at bay forever. Lots of things conspired against poor Fiona. On Halloween morning, we visited a day care just to check it out, and she naturally got her little hands all over all kinds of stuff that lots of other little hands had been on. Then the day after Halloween we had a party that was overrun with other kids, much to Fi's delight; much toy-sharing and drool exchange transpired. The following Tuesday, I took her to the pediatrician fearing she had an ear infection (no ear infection; apparently, she's an ear tugger). Her immune system - no longer benefiting from the antibodies in breastmilk - just couldn't withstand those voracious germs.
Still, we weathered this first cold pretty well, I think. She has continued to sleep like a champ (14 hours a day!) and still finds great comfort in food. Especially apples, which she enjoys gnawing on while walking around the house. All in all, it could have been worse.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Favorite Photo Fridays - October 24
I'm just going to pretend I've been here all along, posting my little heart out...
Onward!
It's Friday. And you know what that means. Hold on to your hats, kids. Fiona is cute as hell! Unfortunately, my blogging skills are limited, so I'm not going to try and provide captions alongside these pictures. Here's the info you need:
1) Early October: Fall + Redheaded Baby + Jack-o-lantern sweater = Ridiculous Adorableness
2) Holy frickin' crap we are PSYCHED for our first swimming pool adventure! This was late August on our trip to my aunt & uncle's place in Menomonie, WI. The kid is a pollywog.
3) September at Nana & Grampa's one day. The overalls alone are cute. Put them on my baby, it's like cute overload!
That is all!
Onward!
It's Friday. And you know what that means. Hold on to your hats, kids. Fiona is cute as hell! Unfortunately, my blogging skills are limited, so I'm not going to try and provide captions alongside these pictures. Here's the info you need:
1) Early October: Fall + Redheaded Baby + Jack-o-lantern sweater = Ridiculous Adorableness
2) Holy frickin' crap we are PSYCHED for our first swimming pool adventure! This was late August on our trip to my aunt & uncle's place in Menomonie, WI. The kid is a pollywog.
3) September at Nana & Grampa's one day. The overalls alone are cute. Put them on my baby, it's like cute overload!
That is all!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Quick Hit - No walker required!
The baby can walk! The baby can walk! THE BABY CAN WALK!!!
How lucky am I that I got to see this?? And that I had a recording device at the ready?? Answer: Super-lucky!
Sorry for the lousy video quality, but you get the idea anyway.
Go, baby, go!!!
How lucky am I that I got to see this?? And that I had a recording device at the ready?? Answer: Super-lucky!
Sorry for the lousy video quality, but you get the idea anyway.
Go, baby, go!!!
Monday, August 18, 2008
Quick Hit - First Birthday
Fiona celebrated her first birthday yesterday with family, friends, and a blue-frosted cupcake just for her. I'll post more about it later, but as I myself am recovering from post birthday exhaustion, here's a quick hit for all you watchers out there. At first, Fi was tentative with the Cookie Monster cupcake. That's really her way - touch lightly and softly until she knows it's OK. Once she figured out that frosting is yummy, she dove in. Slowly and methodically to be sure; but as the second picture below reveals, also with a ferocity known only in babies on their first birthdays.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Favorite Photo Fridays - August 15
Time for another long-awaited (is there any other kind?) Favorite Photo Friday installment! Please to enjoy my impossibly adorable spawn!
This one is from June. M took a picture of Fiona's reaction when I returned from work one day. Is it any wonder I can't wait to get home every day?
Back in mid-July, Fiona and I took a trip to Arizona to visit NaiNai (my mom) for a few days. We had some professional pictures taken while there by Nnamdi Solomon. Who can resist this face? No one, that's who.
That's all you get for pictures today because there will be lots more coming after the ultimate celebration of the century (aka: Fiona's first birthday) takes place this weekend. Happy Friday, all!
This one is from June. M took a picture of Fiona's reaction when I returned from work one day. Is it any wonder I can't wait to get home every day?
Back in mid-July, Fiona and I took a trip to Arizona to visit NaiNai (my mom) for a few days. We had some professional pictures taken while there by Nnamdi Solomon. Who can resist this face? No one, that's who.
That's all you get for pictures today because there will be lots more coming after the ultimate celebration of the century (aka: Fiona's first birthday) takes place this weekend. Happy Friday, all!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Kitchen remodeling is not for wussies
It's been quiet in 20dollarbet world lately. And that's because it's been anything but quiet in the real world for Fiona, M, Ollie, the kitties and me. Here's what I've learned in the last 6 weeks: Remodeling a kitchen is not particularly fun. And while I've never gone through a kitchen remodel without a baby in the house, I think a baby makes it even less fun. I
started badgering M about getting a new kitchen about 3 years ago when IKEA moved into the area and it seemed like it wasn't entirely financially unfeasible. It was mostly just a fun idea (especially when M refused to entertain the idea, or even banter with me about the prospect), but I did my darndest to plant the seed.
The kitchen we inherited when we bought this house was serviceable. Old, worn, and not the most convenient layout one might hope for; but altogether OK. But when we tried to refinance our mortgage last winter and couldn't because the housing market had tanked, M and I held onto something the appraiser had said. When he asked if we'd made any changes to the house since the last appraisal, I said heck, yeah, we have a new mahogany deck and pretty new front steps! Clearly that wasn't what he was looking for because he said, hopefully, "No new kitchen? Bathroom?" Sadly, no. But it was the impetus we needed.
We demolished the old kitchen (along with a wall that used to separate the kitchen from the dining area) the last weekend of June and have been living in utter chaos, filth, and general disarray since then. This remodeling business is not for the faint of heart. Luckily for us, we have a wet bar in the basement, which meant we haven't had to do dishes in our bathroom sink (although a bar sink is hardly any easier) and actually had an additional source of running water. But going up and down the stairs just to get a dish, clean a dish, microwave something, get a dish out of the way... it gets old really fast.
But I sit here tonight and I can see the finish line. The counters were installed today and I'm starting to feel human again. We have a laundry list of to-dos left in this largely DIY project - namely plumbing (oh! to have running water again... not to mention a dishwasher!!) - but we're so close. With any luck, plumbing won't be the final straw to break our spirits and we'll be back in business within a few more weeks.
Good thing, too. I can't take another pizza, bowl of cereal, take out from Chili's (which we actually abandoned quite a while ago out of disgust), or sandwich. Fiona has been a total champ, though. She scarcely noticed the mess she was living in, and accepted being contained much of the time in her Playzone (lovingly termed "baby jail") in spite of the fact that she's becoming quite the mover and shaker these days.
Short story, we're close enough that I can just about say, "Yeah, it's been worth it." Maybe I'll call the appraiser and see what he thinks.
(PS: Pictures will come at some point in the not-so-distant future.)
started badgering M about getting a new kitchen about 3 years ago when IKEA moved into the area and it seemed like it wasn't entirely financially unfeasible. It was mostly just a fun idea (especially when M refused to entertain the idea, or even banter with me about the prospect), but I did my darndest to plant the seed.
The kitchen we inherited when we bought this house was serviceable. Old, worn, and not the most convenient layout one might hope for; but altogether OK. But when we tried to refinance our mortgage last winter and couldn't because the housing market had tanked, M and I held onto something the appraiser had said. When he asked if we'd made any changes to the house since the last appraisal, I said heck, yeah, we have a new mahogany deck and pretty new front steps! Clearly that wasn't what he was looking for because he said, hopefully, "No new kitchen? Bathroom?" Sadly, no. But it was the impetus we needed.
We demolished the old kitchen (along with a wall that used to separate the kitchen from the dining area) the last weekend of June and have been living in utter chaos, filth, and general disarray since then. This remodeling business is not for the faint of heart. Luckily for us, we have a wet bar in the basement, which meant we haven't had to do dishes in our bathroom sink (although a bar sink is hardly any easier) and actually had an additional source of running water. But going up and down the stairs just to get a dish, clean a dish, microwave something, get a dish out of the way... it gets old really fast.
But I sit here tonight and I can see the finish line. The counters were installed today and I'm starting to feel human again. We have a laundry list of to-dos left in this largely DIY project - namely plumbing (oh! to have running water again... not to mention a dishwasher!!) - but we're so close. With any luck, plumbing won't be the final straw to break our spirits and we'll be back in business within a few more weeks.
Good thing, too. I can't take another pizza, bowl of cereal, take out from Chili's (which we actually abandoned quite a while ago out of disgust), or sandwich. Fiona has been a total champ, though. She scarcely noticed the mess she was living in, and accepted being contained much of the time in her Playzone (lovingly termed "baby jail") in spite of the fact that she's becoming quite the mover and shaker these days.
Short story, we're close enough that I can just about say, "Yeah, it's been worth it." Maybe I'll call the appraiser and see what he thinks.
(PS: Pictures will come at some point in the not-so-distant future.)
Monday, July 14, 2008
Kissy
Yesterday was a banner day for Fiona and me. For the most part, it was a normal Sunday. She and I went out and about to run errands (i.e., I dragged her through a couple of stores in her stroller while she came patiently along for the ride). By the time we got home in the late afternoon, she was good and mellow after being exposed to so much rampant consumerism. I understand this feeling, it has the same effect on me.
To make what would usually be a very long story with lots of background short, I'll get right to the point. I got my first baby kiss from Fiona yesterday. An honest-to-goodness kiss. I had to ask, plead, beg, and otherwise cajole it out of her. But suddenly she gave in (after approximately 8 months of me trying to convince her that it would be fun to give Mommy a smooch).
I've since learned from others that babies don't do much in the way of puckering. It's all mouth. This would explain why what I really got was less kiss and more slobber. But it was terribly, terribly sweet. When she planted her drooly little 'O' mouth on mine, my heart just melted. This is what makes the (admittedly rare) late night or midnight waking worth it (not to mention a million other things).
So far there's been no repeat smooch, but this wasn't her first (kiss #1 went to Grampa, M's dad, a few weeks ago - and while it wasn't to me, I didn't feel too badly about it because at least I got to see it), so it certainly won't be her last. Tomorrow, we fly out to Arizona to visit NaeNae (my mother). Perhaps we can convince her to shell out a few more smooches.
To make what would usually be a very long story with lots of background short, I'll get right to the point. I got my first baby kiss from Fiona yesterday. An honest-to-goodness kiss. I had to ask, plead, beg, and otherwise cajole it out of her. But suddenly she gave in (after approximately 8 months of me trying to convince her that it would be fun to give Mommy a smooch).
I've since learned from others that babies don't do much in the way of puckering. It's all mouth. This would explain why what I really got was less kiss and more slobber. But it was terribly, terribly sweet. When she planted her drooly little 'O' mouth on mine, my heart just melted. This is what makes the (admittedly rare) late night or midnight waking worth it (not to mention a million other things).
So far there's been no repeat smooch, but this wasn't her first (kiss #1 went to Grampa, M's dad, a few weeks ago - and while it wasn't to me, I didn't feel too badly about it because at least I got to see it), so it certainly won't be her last. Tomorrow, we fly out to Arizona to visit NaeNae (my mother). Perhaps we can convince her to shell out a few more smooches.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Favorite Photo Fridays - June 20
Been a while since you got your photo fix, eh?
Please to enjoy today's "aww"-inducing shots! Happy Friday, people!
This one was taken earlier this month and, I think, shows just how pretty a little girl Fiona is becoming. I may be biased. But I'm pretty sure that's just a fundamental truth.
This one is from last month. Nothing much to say about it other than what a cute couple we make.
This one makes me laugh because it shows what happens when a baby literally passes out from being tired (why won't they just sleep when they're tired??), regardless of what they're doing at the time. Fiona had found the post of her swing super-enthralling before succumbing to sleep.
That's all for this week. Have a great weekend, everybody!
Please to enjoy today's "aww"-inducing shots! Happy Friday, people!
This one was taken earlier this month and, I think, shows just how pretty a little girl Fiona is becoming. I may be biased. But I'm pretty sure that's just a fundamental truth.
This one is from last month. Nothing much to say about it other than what a cute couple we make.
This one makes me laugh because it shows what happens when a baby literally passes out from being tired (why won't they just sleep when they're tired??), regardless of what they're doing at the time. Fiona had found the post of her swing super-enthralling before succumbing to sleep.
That's all for this week. Have a great weekend, everybody!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Month Nine Stats
Fiona's nine month wellbaby appointment took place right smack in the middle of naptime, so she was pretty much pissed the entire time. That's okay, we've got stats to share anyway!
Weight: 20 pounds, 6.6 ounces (down 3.4 ounces from her 6-month checkup). The South Beach Baby Diet we put Fiona on has clearly worked. We were pretty concerned with her excessive girth, and felt that she was going to be unable to compete in today's cutthroat world of thin and sexy babies. How was she ever going to get ahead in life?
Of course, I'm kidding. We love our super-chub baby. The doctor wasn't particularly concerned with her weight, although we're supposed to keep an eye on it. Considering she was previously in the 97th percentile for weight (and also considering the change in her height) this change is not terribly surprising. In any case, she's now in the range of the 50th to 75th percentile in weight.
Height: 29 1/4 inches, a gain of 2 1/2 inches. So while Fiona was more or less static in terms of weight, she was busy shooting up like a chubby-thighed weed. As a result, she moved from the 55th percentile in height to the 90th, and is now officially too big for her infant carseat. We'd switched over to her convertible seat shortly after her 6-month appointment thinking she was going to surpass the 22 pound weight limit. Obviously, she hasn't done that yet, but given that the height limit is 29 inches, we can now safely pack her first seat away.
The rest of the appointment was relatively standard fare with the exception of the occasional, explosive shrieking my poor nap-deprived baby emitted. I actually had to hold her head steady while the doctor looked in her ears and eyes. No shots this time around, but she did have her finger pricked and milked for a few drops of blood, which will be tested for lead and, I think, iron levels. Naturally, she was not a fan; and just like when she gets her shots, I felt terrible holding her down just so someone else could cause her pain. Necessary, yes. But hard to bear, too.
All in all, she remains a very healthy little girl. And by the time we got to the front desk to pay the co-pay and make our 12-month appointment (12 months!!), Fiona was her usual happy little self, sucking contentedly on the sparkly, kid-bandaid on her poor priced finger. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't hold my treasonous behavior against me.
Weight: 20 pounds, 6.6 ounces (down 3.4 ounces from her 6-month checkup). The South Beach Baby Diet we put Fiona on has clearly worked. We were pretty concerned with her excessive girth, and felt that she was going to be unable to compete in today's cutthroat world of thin and sexy babies. How was she ever going to get ahead in life?
Of course, I'm kidding. We love our super-chub baby. The doctor wasn't particularly concerned with her weight, although we're supposed to keep an eye on it. Considering she was previously in the 97th percentile for weight (and also considering the change in her height) this change is not terribly surprising. In any case, she's now in the range of the 50th to 75th percentile in weight.
Height: 29 1/4 inches, a gain of 2 1/2 inches. So while Fiona was more or less static in terms of weight, she was busy shooting up like a chubby-thighed weed. As a result, she moved from the 55th percentile in height to the 90th, and is now officially too big for her infant carseat. We'd switched over to her convertible seat shortly after her 6-month appointment thinking she was going to surpass the 22 pound weight limit. Obviously, she hasn't done that yet, but given that the height limit is 29 inches, we can now safely pack her first seat away.
The rest of the appointment was relatively standard fare with the exception of the occasional, explosive shrieking my poor nap-deprived baby emitted. I actually had to hold her head steady while the doctor looked in her ears and eyes. No shots this time around, but she did have her finger pricked and milked for a few drops of blood, which will be tested for lead and, I think, iron levels. Naturally, she was not a fan; and just like when she gets her shots, I felt terrible holding her down just so someone else could cause her pain. Necessary, yes. But hard to bear, too.
All in all, she remains a very healthy little girl. And by the time we got to the front desk to pay the co-pay and make our 12-month appointment (12 months!!), Fiona was her usual happy little self, sucking contentedly on the sparkly, kid-bandaid on her poor priced finger. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't hold my treasonous behavior against me.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Mastitis: Enemy of the Boob
I practically should have expected it. There were plenty of reasons for it to happen. There was a bleb, or milk blister, on Lefty's nipple (= susceptible to bacteria) ; I started battling a cold late last week (= depressed immunity); then M and I went out of town for a wedding last weekend, which involved lots of fun, late nights, and partying a little hard (= "run down"). Conditions - according to what I've read and been told since then - were pretty much ripe for what happened Tuesday of this week.
I went to bed feeling fine and normal Monday night, and woke up at 5:00 in the morning with excruciating pain in Lefty (a note to readers who haven't picked up on this before, but Lefty is by far the more successful sister as far as milk production). At first, I thought it was just engorgement, easily fixed by pumping since Fiona wasn't awake yet. Very quickly I realized there was a big problem. It was so painful to pump I was immediately nauseous. But I could feel the wedge-shaped clog on the top of the breast, and knew that not working it out could mean bad things. So I continued, not wanting to chance that things could get worse. Too late: they were already worse. The pain got so intense I started to feel faint, and I started to cry. Really, really hard.
I stopped, and heated up my little flax-pack, which I'd been using for the past several days before nursing to ease the pain of the bleb. It wasn't helping that morning, but I knew I had no choice. So I took it to the next level and got into a hot shower, bringing my trusty little manual pump with me, and kept trying. But it was an exercise in futility. Hardly anything was coming out, and I wanted to die the pain was so awful. Let's put it this way: I didn't cry out in pain while pushing out my nearly-9-pound daughter... but I couldn't stop crying during this.
By now, it was 6:00 and Fiona was awake. Having had a clog once before, I knew that she was the best person for the job of getting me unclogged. I figured it would be uncomfortable for sure. But I was determined to deal with this thing and get on with my day, and figured I was so used to her that maybe it would be better than the pump. I was horribly mistaken. Pain shot through me like a bullet and I wailed like a siren. This, naturally, scared the hell out of Fiona, and she, too, began to cry/nurse/cry/nurse. M says it sounded "like a torture chamber", Fiona and me both screaming and crying. She did work out the bulk of the clog, thankfully. But the pain persisted, and my plans for the day (namely, going to work) were were scrapped. There was no way I would be able to function in normal society like that.
My mother-in-law, who cares for Fiona when I'm at work anyway, was generous enough to come over as usual and allow me to be sick without having to take care of a baby at the same time. By this point, I was pretty sure the issue wasn't just a clog, but likely the more serious - and dreaded - mastitis. On my mother-in-law's (much appreciated) insistence, I called my OB's office to talk to a nurse. I didn't even make it past the receptionist: when she asked why I was calling, I said "extreme breast pain" and she said, "Well! You need to see a doctor. Come in at 1:45." Fastest appointment I ever made.
I pumped again, only because I absolutely had to, and then went to bed in the interim, miserable as hell. MIL woke me at 1:00, gave me some soup, and sent me off to the doctor. Predictably, mastitis was confirmed, and the doctor wrote me a script for antibiotics. My temperature there was only 99.2, but certainly explained why I was feeling woozy. I left the doctor's office, called my mom, and headed straight for the pharmacy to pick up the drugs. I was sitting in the parking lot, just saying goodbye to her when I heard the rushing wind and felt that all-over tingling you get right before you pass out. Before I could do that, though, I got the 15-second warning indicating that barf was imminent. So I did that instead, right out the side of my car door. Good times. I think the pharmacist must have known I was in a bad way because she gave me the briefest, most sympathetic look as she said, "Do you want to wait for it?" And I did.
The rest of the afternoon dissolves into a haze of fever, pain, and general misery. I woke up at one point with a temperature of 102 degrees, took some Tylenol, and went back to bed only to be awakened a few hours later sweating myself silly the way you do when a fever breaks. That cycle repeated itself twice more throughout the night and into the next morning.
I still felt pretty banged up by Wednesday morning, but my temperature was mostly back to normal, and I just wanted to start feeling normal again. So I went to work and sort of glazed my way through the day. By the end of the day, though, I was feeling considerably better, in spite of the fact that pumping was still pretty painful (and producing very disappointing amounts of milk). Since then, I've improved leaps and bounds, and was even able to nurse Fiona by Thursday morning. Not comfortably, but I did it. I think she's the only thing that will bring my dwindling supply back to its former glory. Lefty's nipple is still pretty touchy, but it's getting better all the time.
There are women out there who have gone through far worse episodes of mastitis than the bout I just experienced - and who have gone through it many times. I have to bow to these women, because to endure this kind of torture is nothing short of miraculous. I myself hope to never, EVER go through it again, but I know that having had it once makes me more susceptible to having it again. Still, I know what to watch for now, and with luck it won't kick my ass quite so hard if it does ever recur. Yeah, right.
I went to bed feeling fine and normal Monday night, and woke up at 5:00 in the morning with excruciating pain in Lefty (a note to readers who haven't picked up on this before, but Lefty is by far the more successful sister as far as milk production). At first, I thought it was just engorgement, easily fixed by pumping since Fiona wasn't awake yet. Very quickly I realized there was a big problem. It was so painful to pump I was immediately nauseous. But I could feel the wedge-shaped clog on the top of the breast, and knew that not working it out could mean bad things. So I continued, not wanting to chance that things could get worse. Too late: they were already worse. The pain got so intense I started to feel faint, and I started to cry. Really, really hard.
I stopped, and heated up my little flax-pack, which I'd been using for the past several days before nursing to ease the pain of the bleb. It wasn't helping that morning, but I knew I had no choice. So I took it to the next level and got into a hot shower, bringing my trusty little manual pump with me, and kept trying. But it was an exercise in futility. Hardly anything was coming out, and I wanted to die the pain was so awful. Let's put it this way: I didn't cry out in pain while pushing out my nearly-9-pound daughter... but I couldn't stop crying during this.
By now, it was 6:00 and Fiona was awake. Having had a clog once before, I knew that she was the best person for the job of getting me unclogged. I figured it would be uncomfortable for sure. But I was determined to deal with this thing and get on with my day, and figured I was so used to her that maybe it would be better than the pump. I was horribly mistaken. Pain shot through me like a bullet and I wailed like a siren. This, naturally, scared the hell out of Fiona, and she, too, began to cry/nurse/cry/nurse. M says it sounded "like a torture chamber", Fiona and me both screaming and crying. She did work out the bulk of the clog, thankfully. But the pain persisted, and my plans for the day (namely, going to work) were were scrapped. There was no way I would be able to function in normal society like that.
My mother-in-law, who cares for Fiona when I'm at work anyway, was generous enough to come over as usual and allow me to be sick without having to take care of a baby at the same time. By this point, I was pretty sure the issue wasn't just a clog, but likely the more serious - and dreaded - mastitis. On my mother-in-law's (much appreciated) insistence, I called my OB's office to talk to a nurse. I didn't even make it past the receptionist: when she asked why I was calling, I said "extreme breast pain" and she said, "Well! You need to see a doctor. Come in at 1:45." Fastest appointment I ever made.
I pumped again, only because I absolutely had to, and then went to bed in the interim, miserable as hell. MIL woke me at 1:00, gave me some soup, and sent me off to the doctor. Predictably, mastitis was confirmed, and the doctor wrote me a script for antibiotics. My temperature there was only 99.2, but certainly explained why I was feeling woozy. I left the doctor's office, called my mom, and headed straight for the pharmacy to pick up the drugs. I was sitting in the parking lot, just saying goodbye to her when I heard the rushing wind and felt that all-over tingling you get right before you pass out. Before I could do that, though, I got the 15-second warning indicating that barf was imminent. So I did that instead, right out the side of my car door. Good times. I think the pharmacist must have known I was in a bad way because she gave me the briefest, most sympathetic look as she said, "Do you want to wait for it?" And I did.
The rest of the afternoon dissolves into a haze of fever, pain, and general misery. I woke up at one point with a temperature of 102 degrees, took some Tylenol, and went back to bed only to be awakened a few hours later sweating myself silly the way you do when a fever breaks. That cycle repeated itself twice more throughout the night and into the next morning.
I still felt pretty banged up by Wednesday morning, but my temperature was mostly back to normal, and I just wanted to start feeling normal again. So I went to work and sort of glazed my way through the day. By the end of the day, though, I was feeling considerably better, in spite of the fact that pumping was still pretty painful (and producing very disappointing amounts of milk). Since then, I've improved leaps and bounds, and was even able to nurse Fiona by Thursday morning. Not comfortably, but I did it. I think she's the only thing that will bring my dwindling supply back to its former glory. Lefty's nipple is still pretty touchy, but it's getting better all the time.
There are women out there who have gone through far worse episodes of mastitis than the bout I just experienced - and who have gone through it many times. I have to bow to these women, because to endure this kind of torture is nothing short of miraculous. I myself hope to never, EVER go through it again, but I know that having had it once makes me more susceptible to having it again. Still, I know what to watch for now, and with luck it won't kick my ass quite so hard if it does ever recur. Yeah, right.
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