Highlights of the last few weeks (A.K.A. the weekends of October)

Oh dear…I’m sensing a pattern here.  It’s been weeks since I’ve posted.  But the main thing is to not give up, right?  Just keep writing whenever you can.  This time I was prompted to write because my good friend Cherity linked to my blog again in one of her posts (she’s nice like that) and I didn’t want any potential visitors to show up and see that I haven’t written anything in 3 weeks!  That would just be embarrassing.  Like having a bunch of friends stop by when your counters and sinks are full of dirty dishes, your living room is stacked with baskets of laundry that haven’t yet been put away, your bed hasn’t been made,  and you haven’t cleaned the bathroom in a while.  Not that my house ever gets like that.  Unrelated side note:  If any of my friends want to hang out this weekend…let’s go to YOUR house.

Speaking of hanging out with friends, we celebrated the 5^th annual Voss chili cook-off on October 11^th.  I have looked forward to this event every year since Hansen and I started the tradition.  First…because I LOVE chili, and second…because we host the gathering on Settler’s Days weekend, which is our town’s annual fall festival…a very big deal if you’re a native to Marengo, IL, and not at all important to anyone else.  This year was extra special because it was Sammy’s first chili cook-off.  Granted, he wasn’t able sample any of the chili’s, but still…he was there…experiencing the excitement of it all! 

Unfortunately, earlier that week, Hansen was informed that he would have to work on that Saturday morning, which put us under an unexpected time crunch.  We usually work together on the morning of the cook-off to whip the house into shape before our guests arrive.  And this year, with a baby, our crazy new schedule, and the household neglect that comes along with them, the house was, indeed, in need of a good whipping.   But, in spite of Hansen’s absence in the morning, I was still able to get the house presentable.  Hansen helped out as soon as he got home, and most of our guests were over an hour late, so that helped, too (thanks, guys…you get me). 

There were about 20 people in attendance (pretty amazing in itself when you consider the size of our little house) and 6 chili’s in the running…all quite tasty, unique, and deserving of recognition.  And yet, the winner of this year’s competition was Bob…a first-timer to the cook-off who did not, in fact, bring chili, but did, nonetheless, receive the most votes.  So be it!  The people had spoken.  He walked away that night with a belly full of chili and a $25 Amazon gift card.  Sometimes it pays to just show up and be a nice guy.  Unfortunately, as per usual, I was much too busy that day to take photos.  I always regret it after the fact.  But…Hansen did take this one picture of my mom, AKA “Granny”, and two of her grandbabies at the party.

 The following day, Sammy attended his first of (hopefully) many Settler’s Days parades.  It was a beautiful day for a parade and my little guy loved it!  He practiced his new skill of sitting up all by himself on a blanket on the side of the road, with his cousins nearby raking in the parade candy like it was the last food on earth.  He only cried one time.  The beginning of the Settler’s Days parade is like 10 minutes of JUST fire engines and emergency vehicles from all over the area.  It’s my least favorite part of the whole thing.  I’m sure Sam will think it’s really cool sometime in the future, but this year all the sirens put a worried look on his little face.  Still…he held it together until the very last vehicle went by.  The siren on that one was pretty tame compared to some of the ones that had already passed by, but he’d just had enough.  Still, he didn’t cry for long.  A minute later he was a happy boy again.  We jammed out to marching bands (my favorite part of any parade) and enjoyed watching all of the floats, trucks, animals and pedestrians go by.

 The next weekend we had a bit of a break.  No major social gatherings at our house.  Hansen and I were able to get quite a bit accomplished around the house (none of which is still evident in the house's current state of chaos).  And on Sunday evening we got together with all my siblings at my parents’ house to celebrate October birthdays.  I also asked my sister to cut me some bangs because I was sick of my hairstyle again, but not ready to cut it short again yet.  So, now my look is sufficiently altered…enough to keep me satisfied for a few months, at least.

Behold my sister's handiwork...cute bangs!

Last weekend (we’re almost up to date, now) we took a trip down to Peoria, Illinois to attend a bonfire/housewarming party at my friend, Cherity ’s, llama ranch.  Thankfully we did not have a repeat of our Michigan road trip.  Sammy pretty much slept the whole time we were in the car (there was a small episode on our return journey, but nothing major…hardly worth mentioning).  It was also a much shorter trip, so that probably helped.  We had a great time at the ranch.  The property is beautiful.  And I think we made the trip at exactly the right time to experience the glorious fall colors in those parts.  Sammy also got to pet mini ponies, a llama, some horses, a dog, and see chickens for the first time, so he was really happy.  He’s very interested in animals, but our dog, Faith, is still not so sure that she wants him to touch her, so being able to actually get his hands on some critters was an exciting experience for him.

Sammy and Cherity on her ranch

Sammy meets the ponies

Sammy pets the ponies

A hike before leaving on Sunday afternoon

And then came Monday…back to the grindstone.  Hansen started work at 6 AM on Monday morning, which was a blessing, considering the busy weekend we had, but Tuesday was a 3 AM start time, and this morning it was 1:30 AM.  So I am back into “weekday mode”…which means I have no idea what’s going  on most of the time.  I just know I have to work, keep baby safe/warm/clean/dry/fed, and not expect to know when I will see my husband again until Friday night.

Speaking of Friday night…baby’s first Halloween!!!  I’m not usually a huge fan of Halloween in general (aside from the candy…O glorious candy!), but when it involves dressing up an adorable baby in a costume, which is pretty much guaranteed to increase baby adorability exponentially, that I can get enthusiastic about.  Right now Sammy has a little bear costume that we purchased for him at a resale shop.  If I have time (hahaha) to be a little creative that costume might end up actually turning into an Ewok costume, but I’m not making any promises just yet.  Either way…cute pictures are sure to follow.

Finally,  I'd just like to point out that although I'm no great fan of major league baseball (I enjoy it, but could hardly be called a fan), I did dress my son up in this Royals outfit.  It was one of the first gifts he ever received...from his Aunt Casey...before he was even born.  He has worn it twice.  And now the Royals are in the world series for the first time since 1985...the year I was born.  There's something there, I'm telling you.  Can't just be a coincidence! :)

Guest Post: Galena by almostfarmgirl...AKA...my friend Cherity

Well folks, you may or may not have noticed that I have, yet again, failed to post every week.  My excuse this time is that I've been busy.  Well, really that's my excuse every time, but I'm serious.  The last couple of weekends (which seem to be my only time to write) have been jam-packed with activities, chores, etc.  On one of those busy weekends, I had the pleasure of taking a trip to Galena with some friends from college.  Cherity, the talented and amusing writer of the blog www.almostfarmgirl.com, is one of those friends.  I've always enjoyed her writing...and her sense of humor.  It was as I was reading some of her blog posts that I became inspired to start my own blog.  She's very good.  She even has followers...like...people she's never actually met that consistently read what she writes.  I'm sort of in awe of that.  So, when she approached me with the idea of doing guest posts on each other's blogs about our weekend trip, I was honored and excited.  Below is Cherity's take on our trip.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and hope you do, too.  And lest you think that I've been lazy and haven't written anything lately, check out my take on the weekend by visiting Cherity's blog.  And while you're there read some more of Cherity's stuff...it's fantastic!

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I think we all have that one group of friends, or I hope we all do: the group with strong ties to your past that somehow manages to be relevant in your present.  These are the people who you can go without seeing for a year and still chat with like you saw each other yesterday. 

The girls in this photo?  They are those people for me.

Left to Right:  Kristen, Katie, Myself, Amy (Apologies to Kristen as she doesn't like this photo.  It's the only one I can find of ALL of us at the same time...)

Once upon a time, we travelled Europe together with two other girls (Joni and Karen), mutually bonding over our collective roles as outcasts in the larger group.  Turns out, being an outcast isn’t so bad if you get to be outcast together. 

During the Fall/Winter of 2005, the four (actually six) of us were together almost constantly.  And, at the end of three months, we still liked each other!  Flash forward to today, and these three girls are still among my closest friends.  We live farther apart than we would like (not as far as Joni and Karen who are probably 1000 miles away…) and only manage to see each other on occasion.  I see each of these ladies individually several times a year…and Katie pretty much literally lives in my backyard, so sometimes I see her several times a day…but, once college ended and real life commenced, we almost never all got together at the same time. 

So we decided to do something about it. 

Last year, we got together in July for our first annual “girls’ weekend” (I use quotes because it’s such a novel idea…and trademarked…we were the first ones to think of this…).  Meeting up in Galena, IL, a town just far enough away to be equally inconvenient for all of us, we began what I hope will be a tradition for a very long time. 

Last year, Amy was pregnant.  Katie and I had food poisoning.  Kristen was transitioning to a vegan diet…I’m just saying we had our challenges.  Yet, somehow, we all had a blast. 

This year, fewer challenges for everyone except Amy…but you can read about that on www.almostfarmgirl.com …  Regardless of challenges, in whatever form they might take, I always have a ton of fun when I’m with these ladies.

So, this trip…

Have you ever been to Switzerland?  If so, well, that’s actually a lot more exciting than Galena, but Galena puts me a bit in the mind of Switzerland…without the Alps…or the chocolate…there is some really good cheese though.   I know that when most of you think of Illinois, you probably think of flat farmland and Chicago (or as one merchant in Greece once said to me,  “Ah, Chicago.  Bang. Bang.  Dead”), but there’s a lot more to it than that.  Galena sits in one of the unglaciated regions of the state.  (Unglaciated is a word.  I checked. )  The landscape, rolling hills dotted with dairy farms and small towns with church steeples, looks more fitted for Europe than upstate Illinois.   

  

The town is known for its rich history.  (No joke, 85% of its buildings are registered historic buildings.)  Once upon a time, it was one of the most important cities in our state.  It was home to a lead mine that produced about 80% of the lead in the country.  (I’m not sure why lead was that important, but apparently it was a pretty big deal…)  It was also a steamboat hub between the cities of St. Paul and St. Louis.  The DeSoto House Hotel, first opened in 1855, is the oldest operating hotel in Illinois and is a prominent feature of Galena’s main thoroughfare.  (Also, just FYI, it’s also one of the only places on the main street that has a public restroom.  The lack of places to pee also remind me of Europe…)

For such a small town, Galena has a disproportionate number of things to do.  Day spas, and shopping, and wineries, some of the best restaurants you’ll find about anywhere.  There are historic homes…and I’m not just talking about “hey, look, this house is old” kind of historic.  Rather, Galena boasts the home of General (then President) Ulysses S. Grant.  During the Civil War, Galena sent not only Grant, but eight other Generals, as well as a whole host of soldiers.  The town is positively steeped in Civil War history, probably more than any other Midwestern city that I can think of.  There is also horseback riding, canoeing…  The list goes on and on and on…

With all that there is to do in Galena, I must say that we probably overdid it last year.  Activities were a bit packed in, and the trip was a lot of fun, but not terribly relaxing.  This year, we were all far more chill about it.  (I have my suspicions that it is mostly because we were all a lot poorer than last year.)

So, we all got in on Friday night.  Much to her surprise, Amy was the first to arrive.  Kristen showed up a bit later.  Katie and I drove together….and we were like two hours later than we had planned.  Absolutely no one was on time because that’s how we roll. 

(Side note, Amy said that all of us showing up later than her is why we are all friends.  I told her that I’m pretty sure Katie and I are friends because our fathers once shared a uterus.  I mean, brothers, not twins, but that still seems to bond people.)

We stay at the Farmer’s Guest House, which is probably the most perfect B&B on the planet…or at least in town. 

The innkeepers are some of the nicest people you will ever meet.  They are unbelievably helpful (and accommodating…two of us, ahem *Kristen and I* show up with the most bizarre food restrictions and they go way out of their way to make sure our breakfast is lovely and tasty regardless). 

The rooms are welcoming.  There is a wall of clocks, which appeals to Kristen’s sense of order.../OCD. 

Also, bottomless cookie jar.  And wine time every evening.  (Even without everything else, they pretty much have my heart at wine time.) 

So, with all of Galena at our feet, we stayed inside on the first night, painted our toenails, and watched “Mickey Blue Eyes” on DVD…

And we had a particularly deep and meaningful conversation about the “this little piggy” nursery rhyme after I thought way too hard about Amy’s Piggly Wiggly shopping bag:

Me: “So…guys…this little piggy went to market…Anyone else ever consider how messed up that is?  Because, if you’re a pig, going to market is a really bad thing…”
Kristen: “And what about  this little piggy went wee wee wee all the way home?  What is that even about?
Amy: “Urinary incontinence.”

(Contrary to Amy’s earlier statement, I’m pretty sure conversations like these are why all of us are friends.)

The next day, after a breakfast that was basically apple pie (which is totally ok, because vacation!), we ran to the store to purchase a picnic lunch, then headed towards one of Galena’s beautiful bike trails.  Kristen and Amy brought their own bikes.  Katie and I rented mountain bikes….

…Guys, they really weren’t mountain bikes.

…I’m not even sure they were bikes, because, I’ll have you know, it was basically like riding a thong.  I rented a wheeled thong. 

The ride was stunning.  I could have biked all day, but after an hour or so, my butt started protesting.

Also, for the record, our lunch was probably the healthiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.  I was thoroughly impressed with us. 

(Ignore the tootsie pops…they are merely an illusion.  Look!  Celery!)

And our picnic spot was idyllic.

There is nothing quite like a bike ride on an Autumn afternoon…

After returning the bikes, we spent our day exploring the downtown.  We shopped, meandered about a wine cellar, and ate.  (By the way, there wasn’t a bad meal during the entire trip.  I pretty much felt like a cow by the time I got home.)

Mostly though?  I got to spend time in amazing company.  I love every trip I take with these ladies, and I truly cannot wait for next year. 

***Check out  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galena,_Illinois for more information on Galena’s history.  I checked multiple sources, but this has the most information available on one page.***

6 key essentials to working from home (with a baby)...

I haven't been doing this for long, but in my admittedly limited experience, I do feel that I've gained some wisdom that might benefit other work-from-home mothers.  Or maybe not.  But in either case, here they are...my 6 key essentials to working from home (with a baby)...

1).  Chocolate sandwich cookies.  Until recently, I would have said Oreos...accept no substitutes!  But Hansen went shopping at Aldi earlier this week, and I find that their off-brand variety, which boldly claims itself to be "Original," is quite satisfactory for the guy or gal on a budget.  If you're not in the habit of consuming these treats, and are wondering how they could possibly be included in a list of "key essentials," then I have to seriously question your ability to do anything at all.  These babies are key to daily function...period.  If you're not properly fueling your body with these miraculous munchies, you're doing yourself a great disservice.

2).  An Adorable Baby.  Yes...that's right...you cannot work from home with a baby if you do not, in fact, have a baby.  This is pretty basic stuff.  Technically, the "adorable" part is optional, but it helps.  And if the baby is yours, it's kind of a given that you'll find him or her adorable.  Most of the time.

3).  A Ferocious Guard Dog to bark incessantly at protect you and Adorable Baby from things like:  mail coming through the mail slot, cars driving down the street, imaginary noises.

4).  A healthy tolerance for crying, screeching, and/or barking (because of the two essentials listed above).  I actually think I tolerate these things better than the sports banter that can be overheard on a daily basis in the office.  At least crying and barking serve some sort of purpose.  Adorable Baby cries because he needs something, Ferocious Guard Dog barks (presumably) because someone or something made a noise without her permission.  But talking about sports?  I just don't get it.  Not that I don't enjoy watching sports on occasion.  I do.  But when the game is over...it's over, man.  Let it go.

5).  Silence.  Even if you have the aforementioned tolerance for Adorable Baby and/or Ferocious Guard Dog related noises, there's going to come a time (or several times) throughout the day when you just need some peace and quiet in which to think.  This silence can be hard to come by, but without it, you will likely get absolutely nothing accomplished.  Which is why I'm a strong advocate for...

6).  Naps.  Not for you.  You're supposed to be working.  For Adorable Baby.  Plus, studies have shown that naps can increase baby adorability (that's a word now...because I say so) by as much as 14%*.  Bonus for you!

Note:  There is a symbiotic relationship between silence and naps.  Silence fosters an ideal atmosphere in which to nap.  Naps, then, guarantee an additional period of silence, though for how long, you can never be sure.  So, work with it while you have it, and just pray that the mail doesn't come.

Mail delivery invariably shatters the blessed silence by stimulating barking, which can and often does, terminate the nap so violently that Adorable Baby is launched from peaceful slumber into panicked and wide-awake fits of crying faster than you can click "save" on that spreadsheet you've been crafting.  In such instances you'll likely have no other choice but to reach for key essential #1...the chocolate sandwich cookie.  Not for feeding Adorable Baby.  He's still nursing.  For you.  Seriously.  Eat it.  You'll feel better.

*I made that up.

My Excuse...

Well, it has been over a week since I’ve written.  So…my goal to post at least once a week…already failed.  And yet I soldier on.  I had every intention of writing last weekend, but here’s why that never happened… 

Last Friday was my and Hansen’s five year wedding anniversary.  We celebrated by going out to Shogun, in Rockford, IL, for some sushi and hibachi-grilled teriyaki chicken.  Nothing quite says “romance” like raw fish and a guy in a chef’s hat tossing spatulas in the air and shrimp in your mouth.  Not to brag, but I was the only one at the table that was able to actually catch the shrimp.  I really try not to waste seafood.  Or any food.  We were both incredibly tired after getting up around 3 AM and then working all day, but five years is a legitimate milestone and we weren’t about to let it go unnoticed.   

I was going to stop and get him a card on the way home from work, but I was running late (story of my life) and didn’t want to make us lose our dinner reservations.  I also was going to get him a little gift, but when I Googled traditional five year anniversary gifts on my lunch break earlier that day, I was informed that the traditional gifts are either wood or silverware.  I was tempted to cover both of those bases and get him a wooden spoon, but…nah.    Hansen told me that he got me a card and some Werther’s candies, but I’ve yet to see either of those things, so I don't feel so bad for not getting him anything (yet).  Am I painting a good picture of our romantic evening together for you?  I’m not complaining.  It was great!  Sammy was with Granny and Poupon (grandma and grandpa).  We had a couple of hours to ourselves and some good food.  It didn't involve leaking diapers or spit-up.  But it wasn’t a lingering, peaceful evening of wine and candle light, either.  Truth be told, we were kind of in a rush all night.  Partially because of me being late in getting home from work, and partially because we had to get up early the next morning. 

By 9 AM on Saturday morning, we were up, showered, dressed, packed, and in the car headed to Michigan.  I had been asked to do special music at a women's Bible study kickoff event at my friend's church in Fruitport.  And Hansen, being the wonderful husband that he is, agreed to accompany me, both with his presence on the trip, and with his guitar during the special music.  Commence family road trip!

We have taken family road trips in the past.  Even with Sammy.  Just this past June we drove to St. Louis and back for a wedding.  And Sammy did great.  Maybe 30 minutes of crying total for the whole round-trip.  Sadly, we did not get a repeat of that blissful trip this time around.  I planned to start writing my next blog post in the car (maybe about something sweet...like how much I love my husband...because I do).  It was, after all, supposed to be a four and a half hour trip.  What else would I do with all those peaceful hours of driving, right?  And the plan might have worked, had I started writing sooner.

Just to expedite the whole process of relaying the weekend's events, I'll give you a quick summary of the next couple of days from that point on (completely devoid of appropriate grammar):

Driving (this is when I should have started writing, but, alas, I did not), driving , fussing, lunch (Wendy's...Spicy Chicken Sandwich combo with fresh lemonade...Large...Deal with it!), diaper change for Sammy.  Driving, fussing, change seats to be next to baby.  Driving, fussing, FUSSING, stop in random parking lot to nurse baby.  Driving, fussing, FUSSING, SCREAMING, stop in random parking lot to walk baby around the perimeter.  Driving, Chinese fire drill driver change.  Driving, FUSSING, SCREAMING, SCREEEEAMING, stop in random parking lot to walk baby around the perimeter (the kid loves parking lots...who knew?).  Driving FUSSING, SCREAMING, SCREEEEEEAMING, SCREAMING, fussing, baby falls asleep.  Pull into town where we'll be staying for the rest of the weekend two minutes later.

Visit briefly with friends, eat dinner (Wendy's again...don't judge...same meal, only small...because I'm not completely without virtue!), sing at women's Bible study event (lovely...there was chocolate...even lovelier), visit briefly with friends, sleep.  Wake, nurse baby, sleep.  Wake, nurse baby, sleep.  Wake, shower, church, sing, lunch (Qdoba...not Chipotle, but it'll do in a pinch.  At least they have guac), visit briefly with friends, pack up the car, drive home.  Driving, driving, driving, fussing, stop for dinner (Panera...Mmmm.  Also, baby's first experience with squash soup. Success!), diaper change for Sammy.  Driving, driving, driving, fussing, fussing, FUSSING, FUSSING, SCREAMING, SCREEEEEAMING, SCREEEEEEAMING, stop at Walgreens in hopes of finding miracle cure for teething fussiness.  Failure.  Driving, driving, pick up dog at Granny and Poupon's house, eat second dinner (because I never turn down BLT's), drive home, unpack the car, put Sammy to bed, and finally, finally, finally get to bed ourselves.

So...that is my excuse for not writing last week.  It was so great to see my friends this past weekend.  I love them dearly and hate that it had been 5 years since we'd last spent time together.  I wish we'd had a little more time to just hang out together, but I was still so grateful, not only for the opportunity to visit with them (and meet their children for the first time), but also to sing and lead worship for the Bible study event, and at their church service the next day.  However, that being said, I will think twice before ever again scheduling a road trip while I have a teething baby on my hands. 

Note:  Almost all of the fussing, screaming, and SCREEEAMING were courtesy of our dear little Sammy, though it's possible that mom and/or dad may have joined in briefly at some point.  But, just to prove to you that he's not always as crabby as this post makes him sound, here's an adorable video of Sammy giving fist-bumps to his daddy:

I shall call it: Saturday Morning (for lack of a better title)

So...it's 5 AM.  And I've been up since 2:45.  Oh...and it's Saturday.  My parents would never recognize me.  Back when I was still living at home (I mean their home.  I live at home now, too, but it's my home...just wanted to clarify), I used to sleep through my alarm on a regular basis.  I don't mean that I would shut it off and then, consequently, oversleep...I mean I would literally sleep while the alarm went off next to me for who knows how long.  Sometimes the only thing that would wake me up would be my dad angrily shouting out my name from my parents' bedroom (next to mine), telling me to shut off the alarm.  So, I would shut it off and then go back to sleep.  Alarms have no real meaning to me.  I do not become alarmed.

I almost slept through a college dormitory fire alarm once.  Those things are designed to wake a completely drunk person up from a sound sleep.  For the record, I was not drunk.  I woke up because, in addition to the screeching alarm, my RA was calling out to me and pounding on the door, and my roommate was also trying to rouse me.  I asked if I could just stay in bed.  My roommate laughed (she was always very amused by me...even when I wasn't trying to be funny).  My RA told me no...that it wasn't a drill.  I was pretty sure I didn't care.  I think I would have stayed if they had let me.

Historically, I've had really poor judgement when I've just been woken up.  When my alarm went off, I wouldn't think, "Just five more minutes," and then hit the snooze button once or twice.  No.  I wouldn't think anything but, "Sound.  Make stop. [randomly push buttons on evil sound making device next to me]  Good.  I sleep now."  People have asked me, "Have you tried putting your alarm clock on the other side of the room so that you have to get up to turn it off?"  My response to them was that 1) doing so would only benefit me if the alarm actually woke me up in the first place (and the odds on that aren't great), and 2) yes...I've tried that...and it doesn't help.  I just get up, turn it off, and go back to bed...because, as I mentioned, I have really poor judgement when I've just been woken up.

Anyway...all this to say...I find it truly amazing that I've been able, for the most part, to keep up with my husband's new schedule these last few weeks.  Call it proof that God still works miracles and answers prayer.  Or maybe it's a result of being a lighter sleeper now that I'm a mother and have grown accustomed to waking up in the middle of the night to feed my son.  We'll see if it lasts.  I really hope it does, as the early morning hours that I put in doing stuff for work before Sammy wakes up really make my work from home days so much more manageable.  And so do afternoon naps...which, unfortunately, aren't always a given...but are oh-so-cute when they do happen.

Sammy fell asleep while nursing, so instead of putting him down (which I knew would wake him up), I just let him sleep on my lap while I worked.  Adorable!...even if my opinion IS biased!

Hansen is my hero, though.  I've been waking up with him and helping him get his lunch/breakfast together, but he actually gets up, gets showered and dressed, leaves the house, and physically works all day.  This week he will have put in 40 hours (in spite of the holiday on Monday) and about 20 hours of overtime.  Then there's me...patting myself on the back for waking up and sitting at a computer for a mere 40 hours per week.  He wins...hands down.  What a guy!

Well...the sun is about to rise, so I should probably get up and start doing something with my Saturday morning so that when Hansen gets home from work there might be some hope for a few hours of family fun.  I'm not sure what that will entail, since "fun" is a relative term based on our energy level at any given moment.  Maybe we will go to an apple orchard.  Or maybe we will take naps.

Adventures in Teething...

Trying to come at this whole topic with wit and humor is difficult for me because I'm a first time mother.  I mean, I'm a reasonable person...I see the humor in all some of it. I really do.  But I haven't been able to process it long enough yet to tell it like a favorite old story of mine...like the tales we tell around the dinner table at virtually every family gathering.  One of my favorites about my older siblings:  Remember the time Dan had to pee, but thought Mom wouldn't let him leave his room during nap time to use the bathroom (probably because he was always inventing reasons to leave the room during nap time, and she had gotten wise to his ways)? Yeah...so he peed in a plastic bag and hid it in the Fisher Price barn in his bedroom until the day that Krissy found it, shook it up a little, thought it looked like beer, and convinced Dan to try and take it downstairs, put it in a cup, put the cup in the fridge, and see if Dad would see it and think, "Ah yes...a nice refreshing glass of beer...that's just what I need."  Ah...the best laid plans of an eight year old and a five year old.  Don't worry...Dad caught them en route to the kitchen with a bag of pee (Or was it beer???  They're just so similar.) and put the kibosh on the whole thing.

Anyway, so back to present day...Sammy's teething.  And at first it was just cute.  He'd grab things with a little grunt and then put them directly into his mouth.  He'd start chomping away with those little gums like it was his job.  And everything was covered with a thin layer of slimy drool.  Adorable, right?

And then came yesterday.  He sounded the first alarm at everyone's favorite time of day...3 AM.  I thought he just wanted to nurse, but quickly discovered that wasn't the case.  In fact, he didn't want anything at all.  He didn't want to rock in the rocking chair.  He didn't want to be put in his crib.  He didn't want to be carried around the house as I swayed him slightly and gently sang "My Favorite Things" in his ear like some sleep deprived Maria von Trapp.  And how do I know he didn't want these things?  Why the screaming, of course!

But it was all good.  I was planning to get up then anyway.  No seriously, I was.  Remember my husband's new job that I was telling you about?  3 AM is the new normal.  Well, technically our alarm was set for 3:30, but who wants an extra 30 minutes of sleep on a Thursday morning...when you've been barely able to keep your eyes open all week as you adjust to this crazy new schedule, and don't sleep well at night because you're paranoid that you'll sleep through your alarm?  Not me.

So, we were up.  All of us.  And as Hansen (that's my husband, for those of you who don't know...and yes...that's his first name) proceeded to shower and get ready for the day, I somehow was able to calm Sammy down and get him back to sleep.  Hansen left the house at 4 AM.  Or it could have been 4:30.  I don't know, that early in the morning, it's all the same to me.

Since I was already up, I decided to start working.  I work from home on Thursdays and I wasn't sure how fussy Sammy would be that day, so I figured I'd get as much done early in the morning as I possibly could so that for the rest of the day, when Sammy was awake, I could be a little more flexible with how I spent my time.  It was a good plan.

Sam slept until about 7.  When I heard him fussing, I got up and took him into my dark bedroom so that I could nurse him in bed.  That's what I do when I'm hoping he'll go back to sleep after eating.  And it worked like a charm.  Unfortunately, I also fell asleep.  But only for like an hour and a half, during which time I had a crazy dream about taking care of a baby that wouldn't stop crying.  I know it's really not that exciting to hear about other people's dreams, but...at the end of the dream Hansen came up to me holding Sammy and I demanded to know who that child was, because clearly the screaming child I was holding was Sammy...and there aren't two of him!  Hansen pointed at the baby in my arms and calmly replied, "Oh...that's our demon baby."  And then I got mad at him for saying that and I bit him on the finger really hard.  And then I woke up.  Totally bizarre and a little unsettling.

After I woke up, Sam was still asleep, so I put him in his crib and got back to work.  He slept for another hour, so I had a really good head start on my work day when he finally woke up for good around 10.  When I went in his room to get him up and change his diaper, I first fished around in his mouth to try and find those new chompers that were giving him such a hard time.  And find them, I did!

Sammy's first tooth.  Don't worry he's not as unhappy as he looks in this picture.  No babies were harmed during the taking of this photo.

It's kind of exciting!  Teeth!  Already!  But it makes me a little sad, too, knowing that he's growing up so quickly.  I knew he wouldn't stay a baby forever, but he's just such a little sweetheart and I'm trying to make these times last, as people have advised me to do, but he just keeps growing and changing so much that it's hard to keep up!

Anyway, after finding the teeth (he actually has one tiny one coming in on the bottom, too, but I couldn't get a picture of it), I proceeded to change him.  Somehow while I was exploring in his mouth, the little stinker managed to poop his diaper, and it had already started to leak out the side of his sleeper.  Oh joy.  How does he do that?  Wouldn't I have heard it?  I usually do!  Now he's stealth pooping?!?  Quite a skill.  Oh well, the mess wasn't anything that I haven't dealt with before, so I got him undressed and then I went to give him a bath.

Bath time went predictably well.  Baby boy loves his baths.  But then I realized that I had forgotten his towel.  Before you judge me for leaving the bathroom to get his towel while he was still in the tub, let me just assure you that the water had been drained out of the tub already, and he was sitting calmly in his little bath seat.  I was back in the bathroom within five seconds, but apparently that wasn't quick enough.

What I noticed first was some yellowish, baby poopish residue on the bottom of of the tub near the drain.  I thought to myself, "Wow...did I really do that bad of a job with the wipes when I took his diaper off?  Was there really that much poop floating around in his bathwater?  That's gross!"  And then I went to pick Sam up out of his bath seat and realized that he had pooped...right there in the sanctuary of cleanliness.  So what else could I do?  I started the water running again and took the detachable shower nozzle down so that I could spray the poop down the drain and rinse Sammy off.  It didn't take very long, as there wasn't a lot of poop.  But then, just as I was hanging the shower nozzle back on the wall, he pooped again.  A lot.

Anyway...long story short...I cleaned up the fecal matter, cleaned up Sam, got him dressed, and the rest of the day went pretty well.  But man...that was an exhausting day!  Teething...not my favorite part of this gig.  And they say he's going to get 20 of these things by the time he's two or three years old?  Yikes.  Pray for me.

Note to Self: Don't Screw this Up!

Okay...this is it.  The time is now.  No more thinking about it.  I'm starting this blog.  Doesn't matter that a giant spider (truly...giant...I don't exaggerate about these things) just tried to kill me.  Doesn't matter that I just tried to kill him back...and failed...and now have no idea where said giant spider may be lurking, as his heart boils with vengeful rage.  I'm doing it.  The baby is sleeping.  It's 6 pm and I'm actually done with work, at home, and in my pajamas.  Granted, I worked from home today, so I never actually changed out of my pajamas this morning, but that's beside the point.  These perfect circumstances may never align again to present me with such a grand opportunity, so I'm running with it.  Or writing with it.  Whatever.

I've been putting this off because I don't want to screw it up.  I decided about a week ago that I wanted to give this a shot, but I've been finding every excuse to NOT begin.  I'm not completely clueless about blogging (read:  I've Google searched the phrase "how to start a blog"), so I know I'm already doing it wrong.  I don't have a particular passion for a specific topic.  I'm not an expert in any field.  I have no knowledge to impart.  I just like to write.  I used to be good(ish) at it.  And I kind of, sort of think that I might like some people to read what I write.  Maybe.  We'll see.

So, in spite of the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm doing this wrong, here I am:  Laying next to my son on the floor of his bedroom (because he woke up about 20 minutes ago, shortly after I finished writing the first paragraph of this post), writing away.

There have been a lot of big changes in my life this year.  For starters, I gave birth to the sweetest little dude I've ever met, and I can't believe how completely I loved him from the very first minute I saw him.  Before that, actually.  He's now almost five months old, and judging by how often he's had my fingers in his mouth today, I'd say he's probably teething.  So, he hasn't been his most cheerful self this week.  But he also bursts out in a belly laugh whenever I make a sound like a chicken (which, consequently, I've been doing pretty frequently)...and it's just so perfect that I almost don't mind the inconsolable screaming that happened earlier this afternoon.

The second big change, related to the first, is that I have started working two days a week from home.  Since my office is over an hour away from where I live, it is such a relief to not have to drive in every day like I've been doing for the past six and a half years.  And it's saving me a lot of money...though where that money has gone, I haven't a clue.  Maybe Oreos and ice-cream?  Anyway, working from home, while also caring for a 5-month-old baby, has presented a whole host of new challenges.  And I expected that, really, I did.  But that doesn't make it any easier.

I've never before had to stop in the middle of a work day to change a poopy diaper which starts leaking through two layers of clothing almost before I have time to react, and quickly turns into a disaster that requires at least 30 minutes, a bath, and a completely new set of clothes.  Nor have I ever before stopped in the middle of a work day to let someone gnaw on my finger (don't worry I washed my hands after the diaper change).  But these things are important.  And I'm not about to let motherhood completely pass me by so that I can get my spreadsheets finished and log out of my computer by 4:30.  Which is why, until recently, it was not uncommon for my husband to come home from his job (managing a local restaurant) after closing up for the night to see me still plugging away at my computer in the late hours after my son had finally gone to bed for the night.  These are looong days!  But every hour I get to spend with my son is worth it.

The third and most recent change in my life is actually a change in my husband's life.  He recently left his job at the restaurant to accept a position in a completely different industry.  After tomorrow he will have completed his first week on the job.  And he's exhausted.  Working at the restaurant, the earliest he would typically have to report to work was 9:45 am...and more regularly it was 10:30 am.  Now he's rising before the sun so that he can be at work (half an hour away from our home) by 6 am. And the word on the street is that he'll likely have to regularly start work between 2 and 4 am after he completes this first week of training.  I shudder at the thought.  We're hoping that somewhere along the line this job will turn into something that is worth all the effort, something that will really benefit our family.  We're hoping it turns into one of those "good things never come easy" type situations that people are always talking about.  But in the meantime, it's just grueling...especially for two night owls like us.

It also means that we've had to secure child care for our son for the days of the week that I'm in the office...something we never had to do before because his restaurant hours could be worked around my schedule.  After two weeks of frantically searching for someone that I feel comfortable leaving my child with all day, and someone whose rates we could actually afford to pay, we finally decided on a care giver.  She's wonderful.  But I still don't like leaving my baby all day.

So, we're all adjusting; trying to find a new work/life balance that we feel satisfied with.  It doesn't really make sense that I would attempt to add blogging to my already overwhelming to do list, in my already overbooked schedule...especially when I have nothing in particular to say. And yet, I write on.  I mean, not today.  Today I'm done writing.  I have a mountain of clothes to fold.  But, you know, in the future...I'll write more inconsequential reflections on my personal life in the future.  And if you care to read them, you're more than welcome.