tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57807160156033797372024-03-05T17:29:28.490-08:00On The Roadontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-18035425537687453762011-09-21T06:09:00.000-07:002011-09-21T06:09:52.211-07:00Oh, hello there!It has been quite awhile since my last post. I thought once I was a stay-at-home-mom (or SAHM as the cool kids call it, which I am not, so I will never write that again) that I would have all this extra time to blog. One would think that nap time would be a perfect time to blog, but that is when I watch my tv shows. Or, very rarely, clean something. Lately, I've been thinking about how much I enjoy reading my friends' blogs (<a href="http://cvillefieldnotes.blogspot.com/">my favorite because I love her</a>) so I decided to jump back into it.<br />
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The Bean will be 11 months next week! I cannot believe how fast this year has gone. She gets stronger and more person-like everyday. Like the other night, I bent over to pick her up and take her to the bath and she crawled away from me with this wry little smile on her face. Or like yesterday when I was sitting at the kitchen table and she was in the living room not 10 feet away from me. I heard what I THOUGHT was the Bean lifting up on the first step of our staircase. When I looked in the living room she was halfway up the staircase! My reaction was stuck somewhere between sheer panic and utter pride for how strong she's become. Previously I had to entice her up the first couple of steps with a toy or something, but yesterday she just decided to go upstairs. It is just crazy to me that she is capable of deciding something and then doing it. See, person-like.<br />
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At this point I cannot ever imagine going back to work full-time. I'm sure there will come a time when that happens, but I don't see it happening soon. I dropped by my former place of employment the other day for lunch which turned into an impromptu meeting. I sat there listening to my former colleagues as the Bean jumped on my lap and I thought, "Nope. I'm perfectly happy at home with this little person." Before having a baby I always said with full conviction, "I am a teacher. That is what I was meant to be and I love it. I love my students!" I meant every word of it until I met our little Bean. It turns out I was totally, unequivocally meant to be a mother. I still know that I am a teacher and I'm sure I will still love it. I know there is enough room to be both, but not right now. Right now is for listening to the Bean scream during nap time while I try to watch the season premier of Glee.ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-22693179292585294572011-07-02T05:35:00.000-07:002011-07-02T05:44:39.867-07:00You can't fool meDear Bean,<div>I hear you up there wailing mid-nap. You try this every day. You are not done with your nap so stop pretending like you are not exhausted. I will be strong and wait the ten minutes it takes you to get back to sleep. I will not peek in your door to see "how awake" you are because then you will see me and you will look up at me all bright-eyed and smiley as if to say, "See, Mommy, I am ready to get up." NO! You are not ready to get up. If you get up now you will start rubbing your eyes ten minutes from now and then you will be cranky for the rest of the morning. I am the Mommy. I am the Mommy. I am the Mommy. Oh.... you are a tricky one today! I hear you up there chatting away to yourself, probably playing with your toes. "See, Mommy, I am so ready to get up that I can have a conversation with myself. Don't I sound cute? Don't you want to have a conversation with me?" Of course, I do! But not an hour into your two-hour morning nap. NO! I will be strong. I am the Mommy. You are the baby. Back to sleep baby girl. Try me again in 45 minutes. Ha! That's right... moan yourself back to sleep. I will win this one. I am the Mommy. I am the Mommy. I am the Mommy.</div><div>Love,</div><div>Mommy</div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-13504046196100633472011-05-04T16:00:00.000-07:002011-05-04T16:16:37.487-07:00Mom's loveMy favorite part of the day is the last few moments of holding the Bean right before I put her into the crib. It is the last part of our bedtime ritual - bath, vitamins, lotion, nursing, holding. She snuggles her fuzzy head right into the crook of my neck. She is warm and heavy against my chest. It is quite and twilight. It is perfect. <div>I cannot believe how quickly she is growing, how big she is getting. I just want to slow it all down because I have a feeling it only starts to go by even faster. I try to live in the moment each day with her, but I cannot help but think some day snuggling will be a rare occurrence. I think about how I have not lived near my mom in almost 15 years, and I cannot even begin to imagine not being near the Bean everyday. My mom is coming next week to stay with us for a couple of months. I know that when I pick her up at the airport I will get out of the car and giver her a big hug like we always do. But this time I will have a much clearer understanding of what that hug might mean to my mom. I could be way off base, it might be just a hug to her. I can only imagine that when I am the mom hugging the grown-up Bean after not seeing her for months I will feel a deep sense of relief and warmth and the crazy, overwhelming love that only exists in a mother's heart. That is what it feels like every night in those last few moments before she goes to bed. </div><div>Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there. I get it now. </div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-5954343765920808382011-04-28T16:41:00.000-07:002011-04-28T17:12:25.621-07:00A Planner's EscapeI've always been a planner. I like to have a ballpark idea of what is going to happen throughout the week. I was never a "five years from now I will be" kind of person. Five years is way too many years to plan ahead, but one or two years? Yeah, I usually have some goals lined up. When we moved to Virginia so Bill could go to law school my plan was to run a marathon. I was by no means a runner, but by golly, I ran one. The Virginia plan was law school, marathon, baby. In the grand scheme of things I think all along I had this vision of my life at 30 - teacher, wife, mom. Sounds good, right? I feel quite accomplished, thank you very much. There is just one small problem... I never pictured what happens next.<div>For those of you who know me well, you know that after three years or so, we usually pick up and move across the country for whatever reason and begin a new adventure. We throw our chips (or is it cards) up in the air and see where they land. This has worked out well for me, because on the way to the next adventure I usually plan what I want to do and then make it happen. But here I am, 31, a teacher, wife, and mom, and I have absolutely no clue what the next couple of years look like. I can sort of picture what life will be like once the Bean starts kindergarten, but there are five blank-canvas-years staring straight at me. <div>I was back at school from maternity leave for all of six weeks before I decided to take next year off. I applied for a one-year leave of absence and thought, "This will be great. I'll take one year to be with the Bean and then come back to teaching refreshed and ready to rock!" Then my leave of absence was denied. Oh. HR informed me that if I wanted to take a year off that I would have to resign and then reapply for any open jobs a year later. Oh. After about 30 seconds of panic I felt this enormous weight lifted from my shoulders. I feel like for the first time in a really long time my future is wide open. It feels like someone opened my eyes and reminded me that there are many possibilities. This is not to say that I don't like teaching -- I love it. I love the school that I'm at and (most) of the students there. Taking a leave of absence was a plan, but resigning is liberating! Why stop at one year? Why not stay home for a few years and have a brood of babies?! Or why not take advantage of all the awesome theatre here and get back into being a teaching artist (you're in and out of those classrooms and never have to write a referral or call a parent)?! Or why not get my MFA?!</div><div>The one thing that I am absolutely sure about is that I will get to spend way more time with the Bean. I won't have to rush to pick her up from day care or feel guilty for staying after school with someone else's kids. I will get to wake up with her, have lunch with her, arrange play dates. I will get to take time to breathe and wait and see what happens next. It is really peaceful here in this blank canvas. </div></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-6946813878329041602011-03-27T06:49:00.001-07:002011-03-27T06:53:24.995-07:00Comedy of ErrorsOne of the most comforting things to think about when all hell breaks loose is, "At least this will make a pretty good blog post." Bill is out of town this week. He has been gone since Thursday which happens to be the first night the Bean really slept through the night. Thursday and Friday nights were a piece of cake. Apparently my yin needed some yang. <div>Saturday brought my first nighttime diaper blowout situation. Wow. That is a whole new level of clean-up. Around 4 in the morning the Bean started crying. Like a good Ferber Follower I let her cry for a bit, but she was not settling down like she normally did. So in I went to reassure her that I was still around if she truly needed me. Oh, she needed me alright! My daughter was laying in a big wet spot of leaky poo. I scooped her up and got her out of her pjs and began the great clean up. I had to turn on the light to see what was going on. And I had to put her in her Bumbo so I could use both hands to clean up. So she thought it was time to be awake and was looking up at me happy as a clam, naked save her diaper. Meanwhile I'm elbow deep in hot soapy water to rinse out her jammies and sheet. Poo rinsed out, I picked her up and turned off all of the lights when all of a sudden she projectile spit-up onto my foot. Great, whatever, nothing I can do about the chunky spit up between my toes at the moment. Into some new pjs she went and back into the crib. But she thought it was time to be awake so the crying/screaming/wailing began. "Ferber, Ferber, Ferber.... I can be strong... let her cry for a bit," at this point I need someone to pat my tummy and stroke my hair and reassure me that everything will be okay. Five minutes go by -- in I go, out I go. Seven minutes go by -- in I go, out I go. Finally she got her self back to sleep. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief -- PEANUT! Our wonderful, old, blind, neurotic dog began the I-have-to-pee dance which includes hot, stinky breath up in my face. Down the stairs we go. It is at this point that I realize the night is a total waste. There will be no rest for me. Once baby, dog, and mommy were all settled into bed the remainder of the early morning was peppered with whimpers from all three. Somewhere around 7 AM the Bean won (like she always does) and there we were, awake. Around 8 I decided coffee and pancakes would probably make the day a little easier. </div><div>Sometimes as I write these posts I think, "Experienced parents out there must think I'm so ridiculous." I fear that I write like these are huge important crazy experiences, because they are to me. But other parents must just think, "Duh, Kylie, that's the way it is. Get used to it." Oh well. At least I have something to write about.</div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-67273675453022687132011-03-24T06:30:00.000-07:002011-03-24T07:04:08.346-07:00FERBERIZE!I just about lost it on Monday. I was so exhausted and warn out that I started crying in the car on the way to work, then again in a co-workers office when she asked me about a totally non-emotional subject. I had a running date with a friend after school which I thought would get rid of the extra stress I was feeling. While the run was great, I still went home feeling anxious and worn out. That night I had a mommy meltdown (which used to be called "Kylie Days"). I ugly cried it out and went to bed. But somewhere in the mess of that day I managed to check out Richard Ferber's <em>Solve Your Child's Sleep Problems</em> from the library.<br />Tuesday morning I was a mom on a mission. I spent all of my free time reading as much as I could. The case-study named Betsy might as well have been named Bean because it was exactly what we had been going through. I felt as if Dr. Ferber had been watching our every move because it was so right on. Ten pages into chapter 4, "Sleep Assoications: A Key Problem," I was hooked and determined to try it out immediately. I could get into Ferber's theory at this point, but I will save you the long explanation. The key for us was the <a href="http://www.ehow.com/how_5454976_use-ferber-sleep-method.html">progressive waiting approach</a>. The point is IT IS WORKING!!!<br />The first night when I put her in her crib while she was awake (and crying) I patted and kissed her and then got the heck out of there. I went back in after 3 minutes to pat her tummy and tell her I loved her and then got the heck out of there. I went in 5 minutes later to do the same thing and then got the heck out of there. This technique called for me to go in 10 minutes later if she was still crying but she had gone to sleep!! So rather than doing the 15 mintue holding-rocking-bounching-"I love you"- dance over and over again, I had to only go in a couple of times before she had put herself to sleep. VICTORY! She slept for about 1 1/2 hours and then woke up. So I started again... 3 minutes of crying, then in I went and out I went. I was on the second step (letting her cry for 5 mintues) and 4 minutes into it she was OUT! I didn't even need to go back in. WHAT?! This continued throughout the night. By about the third or fourth waking she was putting herself back to sleep before the 3 minutes were even up. The next morning I felt like a new empowered woman.<br />Last night was our second go. I fed her, hugged her and put her in the crib awake. I was prepared to let her cry for 5 minutes this time. I left her room and before I was even down the stairs she was asleep! Every time she stirred from then on we would hear a little fussing and then silence. I think I actually slept for three hours at one point without waking up. She also stayed asleep in her crib longer this morning. This is the first morning I have not had to bring her into bed with us in the wee hours of the morning. AND she woke up with a smile.<br />Can this be true?! Has my daughter learned to put herself back to sleep in only two short days? I feel so encouraged I can hardly stand it.ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-8445975689414742712011-03-20T17:37:00.000-07:002011-03-20T18:05:06.308-07:00Sleep give thee all thy restI find it hilarious that the Bean's nursery is A Midsummer Night's Dream theme. One would need to sleep in order to dream.<div>I've been back to work now for about six weeks. A friend of mine warned me that the Bean might not sleep as well at night once I went back to work. That was an understatement. At first, it was endearing that she wanted to be with me at night because I was gone all day. I told myself it would get better once she got used to our new routine. Then I thought she was not sleeping well because she was hungry; perhaps mama's milk wasn't enough for her anymore and she needed to start on cereal. The doctor took one look at her and basically told me that there was no way she was hungry due to her pleasantly plump figure. He did say it might be time to let her "cry a little." Okay, then. Maybe it is time to let her "cry it out." We started researching different methods of "sleep training" (yes, non-parents this is a real thing). I quickly realized there was an overwhelming number of "training" programs and they run the gamut on how much and how often a parent should let a baby cry. Both ends of the spectrum claim that their way will help babies develop into self-sufficient children who feel loved and protected while the other guy's way will turn your baby into a needy, heartbroken mess. Most of them agree on one thing... you shouldn't let her cry anything out until she is 6 months. Then we thought her pacifier might be the problem. Obviously she was waking up when her pacifier fell out. We must break her of her pacifier dependency ("Hi. My name is Bean and I'm a Paciholic"). A little internet research and we decided that cold turkey was the way to go. It looked like it would take a few days of hell, but then everything would be roses. Night #1: Bad. Night #2: The best sleep I'd gotten in over a month. VICTORY! Night #3: Hello 1 AM, and 2AM, and 2:45 AM....So here I am today with a 4 1/2-month-old baby who wakes up every hour AT LEAST. <div>I have no idea what to do. The best thing we can figure is to fight through this until my spring break at which point she will be almost 6 months. We will attempt to Ferberize her (not just a joke on Modern Family) then. If I don't get any sleep at night at least I can nap during the day that week and hopefully she will figure it out by the end of the week. What do I do until then? </div><div>I would love some advice from any moms and dads out there who went through a similar situation. I do NOT want to hear that your baby started sleeping through the night at 6 weeks. I do NOT want anyone to tell me it will get better/worse. However, I fear that this phase is just like everything else I've learned about parenting.... we just have to figure out what works for us. "Though she be but little she is fierce."</div></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-27924009350340726242011-01-12T05:43:00.000-08:002011-01-12T06:18:48.141-08:00What was I about to say?All day, everyday, there are moments when I think, "Oh, man! This is totally what my next blog post will be about! I can't believe this is happening!" Then the day moves on and I run out of two-hands-free moments to type. Then a beautiful, peaceful moment opens up... like right now. Bill, Bean, and Peanut are sound asleep. I've had coffee. I've checked my email and the Facebooks. Now I can finally write. But alas, I cannot think of a DARN (I have a child now, people) thing that I wanted to write about. I cannot let this two-hands-free moment pass so I find myself writing about the fact that I can't remember what I wanted to write about. Isn't parenthood amazing?<div><br /></div><div>There was something about becoming a master of using one hand to eat, cook, type, etc. There was another thing about using my toes to move things around the house. Oh and there is a whole post waiting to happen about how the time of day to do household chores has completely changed (When is the last time you went grocery shopping at 8:00 AM or deep cleaned your kitchen at 10:00 PM?). Perhaps I should keep a little notepad around my neck. </div><div><br /></div><div>This two-hands-free moment has come to an end. The Bean is squawking for attention.<br /><div><br /></div></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-40447403080206669752011-01-05T19:25:00.000-08:002011-01-05T20:06:02.940-08:00Bonus chapstick and other happenings<div style="text-align: left;">The New Year has brought many exciting things in the shape of a 2-month-old baby. In no particular order:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. The Bean is now smiling for real (not just when she toots).</div><div>2. She is starting to chat with us. Some might call it cooing, but we know that she is communicating big important thoughts.</div><div>3. Her brain has not quite grasped what her hands are for, but her mouth certainly has. That loud sucking noise you hear coming from the back seat/bassinet/other room would be my beautiful daughter trying to fit her entire fist into her mouth and often succeeding. My favorite thing is when she is nursing and tries to get her hand in her mouth at the same time. Nice try, kiddo.</div><div>4. I am officially a diaper snob. People always say, "Oh, with my first born I had to have the name brand diapers, but then I came to my senses with my second and bought the store brand." Screw those people. I will probably, eventually become one of those people, but until then I am a Pampers woman! (Side note: Don't be fooled by the shiny, well-known Huggies. Huggies are for chumps... and by chumps I mean babies who are not capable of the amazing amount of poop the Bean can produce. Pampers are the only thing that can contain her awesomeness.) I did the economical thing and purchased the store brand. She had them on for about 30 minutes until I realized they were total crap and that I was not going to get any sleep tonight knowing that she had them on. At 9:45 PM I realized all we had were a whole bag of crappy store brand and 4 Huggies and NO PAMPERS in the house. The Huggies could have gotten us through the night with a blowout or two, but then what tomorrow? So at 10:00 at night I embraced my diaper snobbery and went to Target for my favorite diapers. Actually it was a diaper/wine run to Target. Wow. </div><div>5. Apparently infant skin is not really made for the dry weather typical of DC this time of year. How did we discover this you might wonder. Let me tell you.... We flew to and from the Northwest for Christmas and the Bean handled both plane rides like a pro. Slept the entire way in both directions. We had been back in DC for about an hour when she started screaming and crying. Nothing we could do would calm her. She continued to scream and cry off and on all night long and into the morning. "Well, that's what babies do" you might say. Not this baby. She just doesn't cry. I'm not saying that to flaunt, I'm just saying this crying/screaming was uncharacteristic of her behavior. So into the doctor we went. Everyone's first assumption (by everyone I mean mine, Bill's, my mom, the advice nurse on the phone, and the doctor) was that her little ears gotten hurt during the landing. But the amazing Dr. S (who we love) ruled out ears, nose, throat, and any other kind of sickness. I mentioned her dry skin off hand and he said no baby lotion, stick to Vaseline. Then he looked a little more closely at her body and said, "Oh yeah! Let me give you something a little stronger." So we left with a prescription for some cool ointment. The directions: cover her literally from head to toe with the ointment and vaseline at least twice a day. After one day of this she stopped crying/screaming and proceeded to sleep for 7 HOURS that night! Dry skin. That's what the problem was all along. So now we have the world's most slippery baby, but her skin is to-die-for soft and creamy. Makes me think I should take a dip in vaseline twice a day as well. The side of my face and neck, my hands, and hair are now consistently covered in a thin film of vaseline all day long. And when we kiss the Bean, TADA! Chapstick! My lips have never been so hydrated! It is going to be a very greasy winter, but we will all be happier for it. </div><div>6. We hit the child care jackpot! My cousin, Meg, will be coming to live with us for three months to take care of the Bean while I'm at work and Bill's at school. Then my mom is coming out for the remaining two months until I'm done teaching for the summer. I cannot tell you how relieved we are to be leaving her with family. I think it will make going back to work a little easier (if that is even possible). You know, I always said that I don't think I could be a stay at home mom, but I think I was wrong. I think it would be pretty wonderful. It really is so funny how much we say about parenting before we are actually parents. I had all the best intentions when I said, "Oh, I could never not work," or "I can still do a million after school activities with a baby. No problem!" Ha! I laugh at my pre-baby self. I had NO idea. Who could ever leave this?</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi471YLgOdvmOTMv55gUQmRvSR8mYUc2UvX40o8Xsx5vRD2Gn-ueL_giB3hU_G-kP0074GHs8Ukyy2CUruHIU_RFmaN_SQI7cyBE3xGGTkeAinRrMIfgMyrcsPmRsE9qUQesrAVGbxXmK4/s320/SAM_0490.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558918051051809458" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-20558229545806333332010-12-15T13:29:00.000-08:002010-12-15T14:07:07.168-08:00Oh, this is MY body!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg55V_i5XPXZDbFJjmqsCY_36lDXkWJ2SVF8uAn5PenW6P2U2ZISORVAM6nI2qne-xROaaL-idt_8xq_Wqn0SELj55GN4G34zWjX6kB3q5bCAN_4w_bLUEZAKoCeGfF2ullItvA9DPkeVg/s1600/4647_106433081345_740991345_3155387_8260125_n.jpg"></a>Today I went to the gym for the first time post-pregancy. Thankfully a friend of ours volunteered to watch the Bean for 45 minutes while I hit the law school gym. Many things ran through my head while on the treadmill. Here is a selection in no particular order:<div><br /><div>*Oh wow I need a different sports bra. This one that has been holding the big girls up while hanging out around the house is NOT gonna do it for running. I miss the little girls. I hope they come back some day.</div><div>*Holy crap. This running business is difficult. Wait, nothing is harder than birthing a baby. I can do this!</div><div>*Well, I CAN do this, but I don't HAVE to do this. I HAD to birth the Bean.</div><div>*Hey, my legs are moving and my arms are swinging. I'm not carrying a baby. This is just all me working here. This feels great!</div><div><br /></div><div>Most of all it felt great to have my body all to myself for a few minutes. So much of being pregnant and nursing is about being a vehicle for what your baby needs. It was a breath of fresh air to return to something that was about my body working for me. Don't get me wrong, I certainly love being able to give the Bean what she needs; I also love a 45 minute break from it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Baby aside, I have a lot of work to do in the running department. It wasn't quite as bad as when I first started to run. Although it might be, but now I know what my body is capable of and I know that this lack of fitness is only temporary. It is actually pretty exciting to be at ground zero again and have to work my way back up. I probably won't be running a marathon anytime soon, but there is certainly a 5k with my name all over it!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(Finishing a half-marathon in May 2009)</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg55V_i5XPXZDbFJjmqsCY_36lDXkWJ2SVF8uAn5PenW6P2U2ZISORVAM6nI2qne-xROaaL-idt_8xq_Wqn0SELj55GN4G34zWjX6kB3q5bCAN_4w_bLUEZAKoCeGfF2ullItvA9DPkeVg/s320/4647_106433081345_740991345_3155387_8260125_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551033695395632194" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><div><br /></div></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-32525469529447299412010-12-04T15:36:00.000-08:002010-12-04T17:08:23.219-08:00Ready for my close up<div style="text-align: center;">I've always been one to get out of bed and out the door pretty quickly while looking nicely put together (if you disagree, keep it to yourself). Being a new parent, however has made me adjust my standard level of "readiness" for the day. The look is directly related to the night before. Let me break this down for you:</div><div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">"Wow, you just had a baby?! You don't look it. Good for you!"</span></div><div>This is the gold standard, pre-baby look. My hair is blow dried, my bangs sweep to the side. Face moisturizer has been applied. There is a touch of mascara, blush, and lip gloss, the perfect amount really. My contacts are fresh and in my eyes. I have even managed a spritz of perfume. I am wearing pre-pregancy clothes from head to toe. I am wearing pearls. I am one HOT MOM. You should know right now that this has occurred once, maybe twice in the last five weeks. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKZmD5nh14pYFYcnYT4ioF8xEikqtTVha2Xs2UPBi4FXJo0j0aaSKY233VCI5eLPbXBuEGxuQJA1AzfSGABLLWOSGPDlwPzT5wInSdf4uXJ61YiTK7AEC_up1jjyAflm1aZlU-OqEMgw/s320/IMG_2712.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546997823956899058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">"Hey, you look nice. Not tired at all."</span></div><div>Hair is blow dried, bangs off forehead with one strategically placed bobby pin. Mascara? Check! I've got my glasses on. Cute jeans, cami, cardigan. Deodorant has been applied. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">"How are you feeling? Look at how cute your baby is." </span>(note the diversion to the baby)</div><div>My hair will just have to air-dry. If I add a couple of clips it will be decent. Glasses. Maternity jeans. They just go on so easily... hooray for the secret fit expand-o belly waist! Cami, Grandma Nita's comfy sweater (hey, chunky sweaters are in season, right?). I look okay without makeup, right? "Honey, have you seen my glasses?" Oh, here they are on my face. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-8z5cEES4Hhn7CBqHt1msY_H6-z4Siu2KZ4xjalS8_O935wnMEuCEhXZTI-Y_HV2EzNzASrVjrcBeW4G0ti68APvkYtBqeN4L3qU3PYYtjWgICidXUEyzH0zxJULYWcGQOfMzcpqEsQ/s320/SAM_0091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546998296464863762" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">"Ma'am, you need some help."</span> (Actually said to me by a stranger yesterday while on a walk with the stroller and dog)</div><div>Hair is totally wet and is being held off of my face with 4 clips placed at random and a rubber band. Where the hell are my glasses?! Sweats, old race T-shirt (I was a runner once). Did I brush my teeth? </div></div><div><br /></div><div>I like to think I hover between the second and third level. If you happen to see me in the last look, don't worry. I know. There is no need to be a good friend and tell me. Yesterday I caught my reflection in the window and thought I looked like a homeless person. By 10pm I was covered in breast milk, spit-up, snot, tears, and dog saliva. Yesterday was not one of my better days. But it is on those of days when the Bean is cuter than ever and my heart melts when I look down at her. Totally worth it.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNds9KIYPPHl87NUcggnIW-BjBHmvJLps14nbDex2JcStobzfzUxnva24aLWBAivfjF9zYQyeVI44oG40Pj2Ken4A8_IiFrwm-H_rB_W9Us0x1WagOweD3UuuRBM94s4NK3bjsBNu8RDY/s320/IMG_2646.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546998664535205906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-75361623995647069592010-12-02T06:47:00.001-08:002010-12-02T08:48:10.151-08:00Online ShoppingI never thought I would be an online shopper. In fact, I would not say that I am now, however... <div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I was introduced to <a href="http://www.zulily.com">zulily.com</a> which has amazing sales on wonderful baby, kid, mom stuff. Brands and things that I didn't even know existed. It has only been one day, but I think I will become addicted! They have new sales everyday which is brilliant marketing on their part. I now have no choice but to go look every day!</div><div><br /></div><div>The first thing I purchased today was a MUST. Our inspiration for the Bean's nursery is A Midsummer Night's Dream. So what did I find at zulily today? The perfect picture! It is even called <i>Midsummer Night's Dream</i>. Did I mention that the nursery is green and lavender? It's like this picture was made for Bean. I couldn't exactly pass that one up, right? AND it was only $14.99 (originally $30.00). </div><img style="text-align: center;float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXt_3g6kAaWuoDyqTGQXSJCKX1prcoWhYLDFWtBRqhbdR_p3qo5kpMo-GxyHOeGEfezQCP6GwFi10b-Z16s00May0a5iy-XT4OP5MECgyLGBZtzCXob3UsLmImmebOkAVhVViY9MxtEQ/s320/midsummer+pic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546098432543464738" /><div><br /></div><div>Then I decided to buy one FuzziBunz cloth diaper. Yes, just one. I thought I could try it out without committing to the whole process. This deal: $11.99, regularly $17.00.<img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXX3niJH7N5o_ajtJzlkmKpfXHNH42RGMxo91NmwDZgAlrvqxRvoshoKyIDVWck-WkHqyyz6WOkmlcBx-KbODi0ldZnWnoB9A2o5K7AGoTd5j4Lqt3wt6mWh1fSrcfdQ8JhymKc9DwRSk/s320/diaper.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546099954955039026" /></div><div>Online shopping takes an incredible amount of self control. I have every intension of just window shopping. We'll see how that goes.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-75893108213917915912010-11-18T17:48:00.000-08:002010-11-18T18:14:39.865-08:00Holy Aching Body, Batman!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-cxJktMk8dFc4IrS0T6Qs8zkuHVBHluPzBolvG5mnJB87ArfpMEKm7n6xgKR-oPByH3e9LiFUUlQDL4RgzUJTQ3iA4aUVTg3hfZ8YczOa_1YKRb_pPmMhhnwQgr6FA8u5N9MzOvcRE0/s1600/SAM_0219.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-cxJktMk8dFc4IrS0T6Qs8zkuHVBHluPzBolvG5mnJB87ArfpMEKm7n6xgKR-oPByH3e9LiFUUlQDL4RgzUJTQ3iA4aUVTg3hfZ8YczOa_1YKRb_pPmMhhnwQgr6FA8u5N9MzOvcRE0/s320/SAM_0219.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541077596030598882" /></a><br />Oh my word. The first few days of mommy-dom had me thinking that the little kinks in my back were cute. "Oh, my back is a little sore from picking up the Bean. Isn't that sweet?" Ha! Let us count the aches and pains three weeks into my new role:<div>1. lower back (from carrying her and bending toward her)</div><div>2. upper back (from carrying her and bending toward her)</div><div>3. knees (from sitting funny when I feed her)</div><div>4. neck (from looking at her when I feed her)</div><div>5. jaw... this one is REALLY weird. I deduced that my jaw juts forward when I look at her as I feed her. The gravity pulls it down. The other day my teeth did not line up correctly when I ate. I think I've figure out how to keep this from happening anymore.</div><div>6. wrists (from holding her in various positions)</div><div>7. thumbs (still not sure about this one)</div><div>I think the biggest culprit is the feeding. I'm still looking for that perfect way to hold her while she eats. I think I've hit upon a good position, but it only worked once. The real test will be if it works in the middle of the night. Since she is getting a little heavier (9 lbs.) the original position for feeding a 7.5 lbs. baby does not seem to do it anymore. Who would have thought a pound and a half would make that big of a difference? I can only imagine when she is twenty pounds. Although by then she will have control of her head. I think the lack of developed neck muscles is the challenging part. I also think the 1.5 lbs. that she has gained are all in her cheeks and neck (note the picture above). So that, paired with her wobbly muscles, make it a little difficult to position her head correctly. Have no fear... I have scheduled a massage for tomorrow. Also on the agenda, figure out how to use the wrap and strap her to my chest from now on. Done whining. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think this little person is amazing! We just giggle and laugh at the smallest things. This morning we watched her stretch as she woke up. It was just so HUMAN! I know that sounds silly. It is so cool to see her do things that I know she will continue to do as a child, teenager, and adult. Like the way she stretches first thing in the morning. Or the way her little right hand makes a fist and rests by her cheek when she sleeps. We have a sonogram picture of her in the same position. That is just so cool to me! I also love the weird noises she makes when she sleeps. The first couple of nights I remember wondering if each noise she made was good or bad. Now it is so nice to know the sounds. The weird gurgling...the little dolphin noise.... the straining noise that accompanies a big stretch... all of these are normal now and no longer cause for alarm. It's like I'm learning or something. </div><div><br /></div><div>Alright, off to fold laundry and enjoy a glass of wine while the Bean is still asleep. </div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-56687161740861240772010-11-17T09:27:00.001-08:002010-11-17T10:18:27.619-08:00Seriously, I need to relaxI keep waiting for this mythological schedule to reveal itself. I have heard from more than one person, "Give it a couple of weeks and the two of you will come to learn her schedule." Bull-own-ee. There have been several 2-3 day stretches when I think, "Ah-ha! I've got this now." And then The Bean changes it up. Today's latest concern... how often she is eating. About a week ago I was worried because she was eating every 3-4 hours when all of the smart baby people (doctors, nurses, moms) said she should be eating every 2-3 hours. So I'm thinking, "Great. I'm not feeding her enough." No, no, no, new mom! The amazing weight gain proved otherwise! Sweet, my baby doesn't need to eat so often and she will still grow at a great rate. <div><br /></div><div>Fast forward to three days later.... The Bean cannot get enough milk! She is crying every hour and a half for more milk. I can't keep up. I walk around topless just waiting for her to cry. She cries so we quickly go through the list... Diaper? Clean. Burps and toots. Not happening. Oh my god! She is already hungry again. Good thing I'm topless. So at her 2 week check up I mention how often she is eating. The amazing doctor who we love says to try a pacifier to see if you can stretch out that last half hour. Cool, Doc. Let's do it. Pacifier is AWESOME by the way. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here we are today. I wake up thinking, "Okay, I've got this. She's going to be hungry and we will stretch out to two hours with the Pacifier. Got it." NO, I DON'T. The Bean wakes up at 7:00 AM wanting some breakfast. Okay, cool. Nope, she won't eat for more than 5 minutes. So I go pump thinking she will want it in a half hour or so. Nope, she doesn't. Two hours go by and I'm thinking, "Man she really needs to eat!" So I slowly give her the bottle. It takes her an hour to finish it. So I quickly do the math... she has had the amount of one feeding in the last five hours! Yikes, that is really not enough. It is now, 12:30 P.M. Time for more eating. she is dead asleep. I'm not waking her up because that never works. I guess we are back to the 3-4 hour stretches of not eating. </div><div><br /></div><div>Damn, just when I thought I'd figured this all out. </div><div><br /></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-24644934658754121572010-11-15T07:00:00.000-08:002010-11-15T14:50:25.850-08:00I v. MommyThis is going to be quick. I am on borrowed feeding time. <div><br /></div><div>I have always been annoyed with people who speak in the third person. Somehow in the last 16 days I have become that person. It is no longer, "I need coffee." Now it is, "Mommy needs coffee," and "What should Mommy wear today?" </div><div><br /></div><div>What is that about?</div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-32302396384619196052010-11-11T06:26:00.000-08:002010-11-11T06:54:25.375-08:00Trial and Error<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAQq38Q9OktgM-1dSTODEMST4c0XXQp7tNd74Zon08KSic4jxeT-NSQn77zJSzSYy0BZg7Xx_tjmu7B5HLzDnmLajGJ0FNbgaO0uJv2AlfQQv90g_PkRetU5ENFlk_KzQHq4-XOJhGrQ/s1600/SAM_0091.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAQq38Q9OktgM-1dSTODEMST4c0XXQp7tNd74Zon08KSic4jxeT-NSQn77zJSzSYy0BZg7Xx_tjmu7B5HLzDnmLajGJ0FNbgaO0uJv2AlfQQv90g_PkRetU5ENFlk_KzQHq4-XOJhGrQ/s320/SAM_0091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538304549313900226" /></a><br />This will come as no surprise to those of you who are already parents, but this parenting thing is just make-it-up-as-you-go. All of those times our parents made decisions or disciplined us... I'm pretty sure they did not know what they were doing those first few times. They just made it up and waited to see if it worked. I'll tell you what does not work: Feeding the baby for 5 or 6 minutes just to buy yourself 30 more minutes of sleep. It's the parenting equivalent to hitting the snooze alarm. It is not going to be any easier to get up 18 minutes from the first time that alarm goes off. Likewise, those 30 minutes of sleep I just bought myself costs me 5 more minutes of feeding when I wake up. Plus, now I have no idea when she really should eat next. I have this handy little clock thing that has buttons to track how long it has been since she last ate. Ideally she should be eating every 2-3 (or 4) hours. When I feed her the 5-minute snooze alarm snack she wakes up crying for more food several times with in that two hour window. So should I push the little clock thing every time she snacks and hope that it will add up in her stomach and eventually get her through a two hour window. NO! I must give up and realize that the snacks were a HORRIBLE idea. The next time she cries for food I am going to feed her brains out with a bottle and pray that I've erased the snacking idea from her memory. The bottle is a whole other story. Wanna hear it? Okay....<div><br /></div><div>So speaking of trial and error, we have given her maybe one bottle every other day. (Don't freakout out you hardcore breastfeeding people, it is still my milk. I haven't abandoned breastfeeding.) Usually it is my wonderful husband who gives her the bottle and in turn gives me a break. Yesterday, I gave her the bottle myself because she was only feeding for five minutes and then falling asleep. I wanted to see if she would stay awake for a whole bottle. Oh, man, did she stay awake. It was amazing! There was no struggle to latch. Nobody cried. She just drank and then burped and everyone was happy! Now I'm thinking, "Hey, wait a minute. This is way easier than feeding her directly from the source." That was followed quickly by the thought, "Am I a horrible mother if I feed her from a bottle?" Then I hear all of those hardcore people saying, "Make sure you give it at least 3 weeks. You are both learning. Blah, blah, blah..." Ugh. So now what do I do? I've also heard something about confusing the baby. Something like the baby will get confused between the natural nipple and the bottle nipple. WHAT?! "Confused" as in she will stop eating all together? A nurse said, it is the difference between drinking from the side of the cup and drinking from a straw (the bottle being the straw). Well, let me ask all of you, which do you prefer? I personally really, truly enjoy drinking from a straw. Who cares if she drinks from a "straw?" Is she drinking? Is she happy? I'm not seeing how this makes me a bad mother. </div><div><br /></div><div>At the end of the proverbial day aren't we all just making things up as we go? Mom A is giving Mom B advice based on her experience and her baby. But each mom and each baby is totally different and has different needs. I know that I am imposing all of this judgement on myself and I know I need to just step back and do what I think is best. I just like to do things RIGHT (I know, this is no big surprise). But I am quickly learning that there is no Right Way here folks. Just our way. </div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, she is starting to fuss. The milk clock says its been 50 minutes from her last snack, but it has probably been two hours since her first snack. Wow, that was a bad decision. We won't be making that one again. </div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-67371309693912260742010-11-07T06:54:00.000-08:002010-11-07T07:12:13.829-08:00Minutes v. Moments<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHPaKOMHfEPE3BhvQ-UzQUveQb1WzDoBpU5xAKonNX1ByMj8rgMfwG3N86igVpHWN8Bor2UszLqt15pnMjnV8PrtfGBMwryPZ8jX69MmPDJZ4WjkVwC4y7vm5bB5NeTKt5lEY574cY0ME/s1600/IMAG0086.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHPaKOMHfEPE3BhvQ-UzQUveQb1WzDoBpU5xAKonNX1ByMj8rgMfwG3N86igVpHWN8Bor2UszLqt15pnMjnV8PrtfGBMwryPZ8jX69MmPDJZ4WjkVwC4y7vm5bB5NeTKt5lEY574cY0ME/s320/IMAG0086.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536825803159468338" /></a><br />I have been a mom for one week now. Some of you are probably sick of me saying this, but this is the toughest thing I have ever done. For years I've heard people say, "You can wait to have kids, but you will never be ready." I thought, "Sure you can! Being ready just means at the point in your life when you are ready to take that next step and build your family, right?" WRONG! Listen to me childless-people YOU CAN NEVER BE READY! That being said (shouted) it is also the most amazing thing to look at my little baby and think, "I grew that!" Between crying from exhaustion/hormones I discovered that my new life as a mom has become a showdown between minutes and moments. The minutes can drive me crazy. The moments keep me sane. <div><br /></div><div>MINUTES</div><div>How many more until she needs to eat?</div><div>How many did she eat for on the left/right side?</div><div>What time did I feed her again?</div><div>How long has she been asleep?</div><div>When will she wake up?</div><div>Is it time to change her diaper?</div><div>I JUST changed her diaper. How can it be time to do that again?!</div><div><br /></div><div>These questions can spin around in my head on a 2-3 hour loop. Once she has done her three things (eat, sleep, poop) she starts it all over again. There have been several days of new-mom-zombie face caused by minutes swarming in my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>MOMENTS</div><div>Smelling her skin</div><div>Gently rubbing my cheek against her furry little head</div><div>Seeing her big eyes open and look around</div><div>Holding her while she sleeps against my chest</div><div>Her perfect little mouth, nose, cheeks, ears, fingers, toes</div><div>Rocking her to sleep and singing "You Are My Sunshine"</div><div>Seeing Bill hold her, feed her, change her, love her just as much as I do</div><div><br /></div><div>These are the things that fill my heart and make me cry a little bit just thinking about them. The crying is part hormones, but mostly just me. How is it possible to love her so much? And to love her more every day?</div><div><br /></div><div>Right at this moment, the dog and husband and baby are asleep. The house is quiet. I've had my coffee and breakfast (which doesn't always happen). Lily is asleep in her little bouncy seat next to me. This is a lovely moment. I know that there are only a few more minutes until she wakes up and I'll need to change her diaper, but right now I'm going to enjoy the moment. </div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-69392357894585117462010-05-01T18:05:00.000-07:002010-05-01T18:23:59.878-07:00It looks like a baby.For those of you who have not heard the news (or read it on facebook), I am pregnant. 13 weeks and 3 days pregnant. This is good. I'm out of the "danger zone" and I haven't wanted to puke in over 5 weeks and I've been able to stay up until 9 o'clock this week!<br />I'm getting to the point where all of my pants still fit but I HATE all of my tops. They are all just a little to snug. This was also a little bit exciting when I thought it was the beginning of my baby bump. Then my doctor informed me that the bump will be much lower in my abdomen and that the "bump" making my clothes snug was actually the result of my not running very much anymore. He said, "I'd like to tell you otherwise, but those are just your muscles getting out of shape." HA! I think deep down I knew that. I'm going to embrace it anyway.<br />This leads me to the admitting that I have not, in fact, been running very often. I vasilate between total guilt and complete indulgence. It is starting to even out now. I've told myself that once the play is over at school (next weekend) I will in fact go back to my running group. I miss my friends there anyway so it will be social and good for me. The "good" news is that all of my doctors have said not to run hard, and the last doc actually said to just walk. So at least I don't have to work too hard. Wow.... lazy!!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLSkguF3L1H3WKAFikRRWM8Han8J7In3ZVulbJYtagjSI4lEHFat9YidosBXT0RnrFogrSB8cnzRzl0nqP1ECHAavXVXsGDnBCIQqEtckK4Z42LvzniuyRinxG2ItMGGHqYJX8PQxC3I/s1600/Week13.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466476688967432994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLSkguF3L1H3WKAFikRRWM8Han8J7In3ZVulbJYtagjSI4lEHFat9YidosBXT0RnrFogrSB8cnzRzl0nqP1ECHAavXVXsGDnBCIQqEtckK4Z42LvzniuyRinxG2ItMGGHqYJX8PQxC3I/s320/Week13.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The best thing that happend last week is that I had an ultrasound and the fetus has a face and arms and legs and does not just look like a lump of goo. Up until then I had seen the heart beat in the little blob and then I heard the heart beat, but this was the first time it actually looked like a person. At that moment, I was truly excited. I also realize I had been lying to people up until that point about being excited. I'd always say, "Yeah, we're scared but excited." No. That was not true. Up until last week I think I was saying what people wanted to hear. Because those first three months are very surreal. It was very difficult to have an emotional reaction other than WTF have we done?! But now it looks like a baby. I think it has Bill's nose. I'll let you be the judge.<br />So that is all for now. I will be a little better about posting things now that everyone can know about the baby.ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780716015603379737.post-37664679846744395572010-03-31T12:12:00.000-07:002010-03-31T12:25:34.619-07:00Testing, testing....<div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">Welcome to On The Road. Here you will discover all sorts of tidbits about me and this life I lead in the D.C. area. Let's begin.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">10 things to know about me this minute in no particular order:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">10. I'm hungry.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">9. I love it when I get to wear knit skirts in the sunshine.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">8. Peanut sleeps a lot! (Okay, that is not so much about me as it is about my dog)</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">7. Too much time off makes me antsy.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">6. I'm trying to stop biting my nails... again.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">5. I'm going to the track tonight where I will run with my friends.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">4. I bought new flip-flops yesterday after discovering that I threw all of my old ones away.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">3. I hate my bed. Do those tempurpedic beds feel as good as they look?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">2. I should really put my clothes away.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;">1. I'm really looking forward to the trees in the courtyard being in full bloom. It is only a day or two away... I can feel it. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454881096508487074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVE_KOXm8Wsl3Thyp9KJ-ShR-eTRt2lLXvOBOfdP2cFsoZK5CsiyoFqKwSQpnFQLCbMtKaN-w1MCLXsQGCieKqgHQsVLWqW2d3sL-1mVV7Zc8y12oQ1-TTrJ3JNImuhPp6_IeGX3YB3Q/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6600cc;"></span></div>ontheroadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02003277540206079265noreply@blogger.com0