09.26.2008 -- Toddler's Lament...

Lucy: Ah! Ow! Mom, I got bit!
Me: Oooo. By who(m)?
Lucy: By me!




Because I have had more than one request to see pictures of the baby's incubator, I am posting these. This is at 31 weeks without sucking in my gut.



On a side note, we got window coverings up! No more fishbowl effect at night! Huzaah!

09.24.2008 -- Stupid Raffi

A woman should not have to consider whether or not she will get terribly emotional when she puts on music for her 3-year-old.

Some of Raffi's songs are completely harmless. Others though, they get stuck in your head--or worse. You could find yourself struggling to answer your little one (when she asks whether or not her Cinderella crown will break if she wears it as a belt) without choking up.

Rude, Raffi.

Beware Blue White Planet if you're feeling especially susceptible.

Lucy and friend this morning

Here's a challenge for all you jokers who think you have iron-clad tear ducts: gather up some of your favorite pictures (especially of the children in your life and of places you love), put together a slideshow and use Blue White Planet as the soundtrack.

09.21.08 -- Gold Fish Mortality and Planes

Lucy playing with one of her favorite friends yesterday

Tonight, after a collective family birthday party where I ate too many homemade orange rolls and too much homemade ice cream (strawberry), I tried to feed Lucy's fish and Baby Fish spit the food back at me. This led me to question the health of this poor little fish and I realized that I hadn't changed their water for way too long--probably 2 weeks.

If Baby Fish dies, it is my fault.

In my defense, I did not waste time. I poured Ken and Baby Fish into a clean salad bowl with clean water and set to rinsing everything from their bowl. They're back now.

I tried to feed them again, but they didn't even notice. The fish seem to get a little stupid after I dump them back into their newly-cleaned, oxygenated bowl. The tiny bubbles cling to everything and the fish are oblivious.

Lucy is making noise in her sleep. She'll probably sleep through it--most of the time, she does... Although she's been having some hard nights lately. At least mornings are easy. The few exceptions are odd. The latest:

7:30 ish, Lucy wakes in her bed, screaming.

Lucy toddles to our room and, sobbing, tears rolling down her cheeks, crawls into bed with me.

Me: What's the matter, Lucy?
Lucy: I want to go on a plane. (more sobbing, more tears)

We ended up calling Daddy so he could explain why a plane was not on the agenda for the day.

Lucy loves planes. I often have to explain to her why we can't just get on a plane any day we feel like it.

Lucy is now sleeping on my lap and I need to get her into bed.

09.16.2008 -- You Can Never Go Home Again

bellybutton update

...That is, unless you've just left a few days ago and no one has taken your place.

Lucy and I spent a long weekend with all of her maternal cousins. Is this the right terminology? Anyway, I practiced my soccer-mom skillz with my sister's boys. I dig it. This is probably linked somehow to my being child number five.

Now that we're back home, I appreciate my husband and my own life more--just because they're mine.

So, what is the maximum amount of time that a person can stay away from home before it changes enough to really notice? We've been out of our old house since May of 2007. I think it changed almost right after we moved. Maybe intent has more to do with it than anything. If a person is gone for months and months with the intention to come back and continue things the way they were before, it can work, I think. But if you leave and mean to make a new home elsewhere -- well, then. Maybe it's true that you can never go home again even if chance turns things around.

When I was growing up (no smart remarks, please), my parents made it a priority to spend a few summer weeks in New Hampshire at a family cabin. I loved it--to this day, that cabin is on my short list for favorite places in the world. More often than not, I also got to spend more time with some of my favorite family members as sort-of a fourth child in their family. This time on the other side of the U.S. gave me a lot of opportunities to experience things that I wouldn't have otherwise.

There was a small price to be paid for those summers away: when I got home and my close group of girlfriends talked about playing softball or other summer activities, I was clueless; but this gap usually sealed up after a few weeks at home. I've never regretted spending summers away. If there's a similar opportunity for Lucy (and any of our other kid(s)?), I'll work to make it happen, I think. Of course, Lucy has two parents and this is not something I've discussed with Brian, so who knows?

I have some good friends in this neighborhood here who are trying to sell their homes/move. I feel for them. It's tough juggling current relationships with efforts and hopes to make a home someplace else. (Not to mention the stress or just the scheduling of getting all the moving stuff done--readying a house to put on the market, finding a new house, continuing a semblance of normality...)

From what I remember, it was nice when people were supportive of our move. Although the gesture that made me smile most (and still does) was when one of our old (previous-not aged) neighbors showed up at our door and asked if he could borrow a saw so he could "get rid of something in our yard for us."

Shameless flattery gets me every time.

Leaving our old neighborhood was hard. I knew that I would get to know people in our new neighborhood and that I would get just as attached to them as people I already knew and loved, still, it was hard.

09.11.2008 -- Blog on a Bog

Lucy talking to Aunt Monica after her first day at pre-school.

I think I'm overwhelmed. This sometimes happens and it appears that my normal reaction to this feeling is to slow every non-essential function to a near halt. There are lots of things I want to get done--lots and lots. But "things" are slow by necessity--just because I can't do everything myself and even the things I can do myself are limited by you-name-it. Even describing this is a little bit painful to my psyche. Just a little. (Don't worry.)

So, yeah. I can't figure out where my limitless supply of energy went. (I miss you, LSE, wherever you are.)

My schedule for the rest of the month is chock-full. Not every day... but of the 19 remaining days left in September, I have just a handful left that are not committed in a serious way. This will be a clever way to pass through some of the final(ish) weeks of pregnancy. Most of me is really looking forward to all the activity/excitement. Part of me wants to lay down on the couch. :)

I love Lucy more than can be conveyed by words, I love spending time with her. AND I miss spending time with my husband when I am not really tired or just mentally trying to recover from a long day with a challenging 3 year-old. AND I realize that some things in life are just mutually exclusive.

09.05.08 -- Amn't I Blessed?

unintentional funny face :)

Am I not?

Today was great. (Big sigh.) The picture of me above was taken at the beginning of my hike! This trail is one of my favorite places in the world. Can I show you why?




All that within a couple of minutes from home! It was so nice to get outside today with Zoe--for more than 2 hours! Hallelujah--I am not as out of shape as I feared. I would've taken Lucy, but it gets a little tedious for her. Fortunately, we also live minutes away from Lucy's fabulous Grammy Judy and her Aunt Nan. They love her, and she loves them, and sometimes it works out so they hang out together and let me do something else.

That is the beginning of the story of my first real hike in a long time. For posterity's sake, I will omit the middle and the end except to say that:

I love our dog.
I love September.
I love hiking with our dog in September.
I love being a mom.
...and this is the gushiest I'm getting:
I love my husband.


We have a wall under construction right now. You know what they say about simple minds...well, I'm fascinated watching these go up. Lucy liked it, too.



Now what happened to my explanation for the title of this post? My brother, Mike, and I used to say "I amn't" instead of "I'm not." I sort of get a kick out of the way we stuck together and kept at it, even when people told us that "amn't" wasn't a word. Eventually, of course, we relented and accepted everyone else's standards.

Maybe one day, it will be an acceptable contraction.