Thus saith the HR department…

Well, next week marks a momentous occasion in my life.  For the first time in over 7 years I will begin working less than 40 hours a week.  I don’t count my maternity leave last spring, because I was sleep deprived the whole time and can’t remember most of it…therefore, it might have actually never happened.

Hansen started a new job last August with the hope that he would eventually start making the kind of income that would allow me to stay home with Sammy at least part time (and hopefully full time for at least a few years) in the future.  This is the first step in that direction.  I will still technically be a full time employee, but earlier this week the Vice President of HR at the company I work for approved the request that my hours be reduced from 40 to 32 a week. 

First of all, I want to give a huge shout out to my hubs.  He has been busting his butt and I’m never quite able to express just how proud I am of him, or how much I appreciate all the hard work and sacrifice that he is making for our family.  He frequently puts in 12 hour days.  It’s not even unheard of for him to put in a 16 hour day.  Every morning he has to get up at a different time, so it’s not like he can just train his body to get used to waking up earlier.  Some mornings his alarm goes off at a relatively reasonable 5:30 AM, but more often it’s like 2 or 3 AM…and sometimes even earlier than that.  He never knows when he’ll have to start each day until the afternoon before when he receives the next day’s schedule from his office.  Then he puts in long hours…lots of walking, lifting heavy fire extinguishers, inspecting fire suppression hood systems in restaurants, paperwork, and driving.  One day this week he told me that he had walked 22 flights of stairs that day.  He does all of this with remarkably little complaining.

And it’s not like he has days to recover from this crazy schedule.  On the weekends he helps me clean the house, care for our son, does yard work, helps me grocery shop, attends to random projects around the house, and maintains relationships with our family members and friends.  On top of all that, he has been the one preparing most of our family meals on a daily basis because when I’m working in the office I don’t get home until around 7 pm, and when I’m working from home I have to use every minute that I’m not caring for Sam to focus on work stuff so that I can get all of my hours in each day (something that has turned out to be much more difficult than I originally imagined).

So…he is basically amazing… worthy of all the thanks and praise I can give him.  And I also thank God for sustaining him and giving him the energy and perseverance to do all this for us. 

Now…to answer your most burning question…what will I do with this luxurious additional 8 hours of free time each week?  Well, I can think of SO many things.  It’s going to be tricky, though, as these hours will be broken up and spread across the whole week.  On Mondays and Wednesdays, both office days, I will reduce my time in the office by 1 hour so that I can get home earlier to prepare dinner and take care of Sam.  That way Hansen can hopefully eat and get to bed at a more reasonable hour.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays, both work from home days, I will work only 5 hours.  Fridays will remain 8 hour office days.

So, I have to be strategic with how I use this time. I’ve given it some thought and here are my 8 goals for my 8 hours that will be redirected from "work life" to "home/personal life":  

1)  I will spend more quality time with Sammy.  We’ll go to the park in the middle of the week, rather than waiting for the weekend.  We’ll go outside more.  We’ll read more books.  And I will cherish every additional moment that I get with my sweet little boy who is growing up faster than I thought was possible.  Or I’ll try to.  I’m not perfect.  I still find it hard to relish the times when he throws food all over the floor I just swept, or fights me as I try to change a particularly messy diaper.  But by and large, I think you probably understand the goal…cherish.  CHERISH, I SAY!

2)  I will make dinner (or sufficiently heat and re-serve edible leftovers) every night.  I am determined to take this burden off of Hansen’s shoulders.  I may not have it on the table when he walks through the door, and I certainly won’t greet him at the door in a dress and heels with a cocktail in hand, but there will be food.  And there’s beer in the fridge.

3)  I will pay my bills on time.  I haven’t been great about this lately.  And this is less a cash-flow issue than it is a time issue.  There is money in my account.  Sometimes it’s just  enough, but it’s there.  I just need like half an hour each week to sit down with my bills and checkbook to make that magic happen.  Poof…the money is gone.  And there is great…um… rejoicing?

4)  I will keep my house clean…er.  I don’t think I will ever be able to promise a spotless domicile, no matter how much time I have at home.  It’s just not in me.  Plus…I have a toddler now, so unless I just keep him in the backyard all day like an outdoor pet, I don’t think it’s physically possible.  But I can do better than I’ve been doing lately.  I have done better.  I am committing to less chaos and that “comfortably clean, but lived in” look, with a side of slightly more organized cabinets and closets.

5)  I will exercise and lose 20 pounds.  Hahaha!  No, but seriously….hahaha!  Okay…I will try.

6)   I will tend the garden in our backyard to help it yield the maximum harvest and hopefully reduce our grocery bills…at least through the summer and early fall.

7)  I will fold the laundry before it gets all wrinkled, and actually put it away, rather than letting it sit in laundry baskets on the couch in our living room.

8)  I will hopefully take at least two steps back from the proverbial “edge” that I have been dancing so closely to for the last year or so…and hopefully help my husband do the same.  We are in desperate need of a little breathing room.

Wish me luck!  And pray that God helps me to use this time in the way that most honors Him and benefits my family, regardless of my own personal goals.

And here is a picture of Sammy...because man, I love this kid!

On Twilight and love...now hear me out...

Okay…confession time.  I’ve read the Twilight series.  Multiple times.  And I’m doing it again.  Sort of.  

My wonderful husband, who knows me very well, got me the gift that keeps on giving this past Christmas…a subscription to Scribd.  It’s a website that provides access to books, both e-book and audio, for its subscribers for a small monthly fee.  I have the app on my phone and my Kindle.  It’s awesome.  And as a working mother, it’s pretty much the only way that I get any reading done anymore.  I love having access to thousands of audiobooks at any given time.  I use it so frequently that in the matter of a little over a month, I became one of their top tier subscribers and was asked to participate in beta testing the updated version of their site.  I didn’t participate because I’m busy.  That’s why I listen to audiobooks.  I didn’t want to go to the trouble of reporting back about my experience with the site.  But still…I felt kind of cool that I got asked.

Anyway…back to our feature presentation…the Twilight saga.  All those books at my disposal and I choose to listen to a YA series that I’ve already read, multiple times.  I know, I know, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.  These books are literary donuts.  But if you know me, you know I love donuts.  So sue me.  Also, since it can sometimes be hard to concentrate on the story the whole time when you’re just listening, as opposed to actively reading, it’s nice to pick a story you’re already familiar with once in a while.  Kind of like putting on your favorite movie in the background while you fold laundry and clean the house.  You’ve seen it before, so you’re not lost if you have to step out of the room for a minute…you can still enjoy the story.

For the record, let me just put it out there that I hate the Twilight movies.  I watched them all just to see how the writers/directors/actors would translate the story to the screen.  I think they did a terrible job.  No offense to anyone who liked the movies, but I think they’re just awful.  The books, on the other hand, while not even close to highbrow, do admittedly still hold some appeal for me.  And I find myself wondering why.  There are many things about the story that I don’t really like.

For example, Edward, the supposed heart-throb hero of the story, holds absolutely no appeal for me.  Well, he’s polite…sometimes.  That’s nice, I suppose.  And he’s a talented pianist…which I guess is kind of sexy.  He wants to wait to have sex until he’s married…which appeals to my own personal code of morality.  But other than that?  Meh.  He’s moody, kind of controlling and condescending…oh…and he’s a vampire who is physically cold and hard like marble.  Yuck.  There is this scene that I listened to recently and it describes a kiss between Edward and Bella…it says something about how his tongue tracing around her lips felt as cold as ice.  Umm…what?  Is that a turn-on for some people?  I suppose it could be, so I shouldn’t judge, but me personally?  No thanks.

From the very first time I read the series, I was team Jacob.  What’s not to like about him?  He’s a mostly happy-go-lucky guy who would pretty much do anything for Bella.  Sure…he has some setbacks emotionally when he finds out he’s a werewolf and when he can’t get the girl he loves (because **spoiler alert** Bella ends up with Edward), but one can hardly blame him for that.  Aside from his preferable temperament, he actually runs a significantly higher body temperature than mere humans, which for me would be a major plus.  Who doesn’t want a man who can keep them warm? Plus, the book always describes him as Bella’s best friend.  So if there is this really great guy, who is your best friend, who is exceptionally attractive, and who also desperately wants to be with you…why would you choose an ice cold vampire, who is prone to treating you like a child?  It just never added up for me.  Maybe if the romance between Bella and Edward had been better developed, I would feel differently, but as it is, I was never sold on their eternal, indestructible love. 

So, why do I keep coming back to it?  Well, it’s hard to put my finger on it exactly.  I do enjoy the fantasy genre, but I’m not a huge fan of high fantasy.  I like my fantasy to be mixed in with life as I know it.  This series gives me a taste of the magical/supernatural without taking me so far outside the realm of my own personal experience that I lose the ability to relate with the characters and put myself in their shoes.

But most of all, I think I just like how it takes me back to a time in my life when things were simpler and love felt different.  Love is complicated and layered…and I think that the way you experience it changes over time.  I sometimes roll my eyes when I read about how quickly Bella is entranced by Edward and how quickly they become completely devoted to each other, but if I’m honest with myself, I can remember a time when love felt a lot like that to me.  I saw a boy at school.  I thought he was cool and cute.  Sometimes I’d notice that he was looking at me and it made my pulse race a little bit.  And then we started dating, and within a matter of months, I was convinced the we’d get married and live happily ever after.  I was in love, man.  And I was surging with hormones.  I didn’t have any bills to pay or mouths to feed – none  of the stress of adulthood – but life was dramatic.  High highs and low lows.  Love was passion or despair, depending on the day.  Wonderful and awful at the same time…much the way it is described in these books.

It wasn’t perfect, but man, it was exciting!  There was so much you didn’t know about each other.  So much to discover.  Did a boy ever make you a mix tape of new music for you to listen to?  Or take you to a place you’d never been before, just because he liked it and was excited to show it to you?  I think that’s what we don’t get as much of as we grow older and take on more responsibilities.  As we reveal more and more of ourselves to our partner, the mystery starts to disappear. 

At this point, my husband probably knows much more about me than he ever thought he’d want to when we first started hanging out.  At the beginning of our relationship he learned the good things…the cute, quirky, endearing things about me that set me apart from other girls in his mind.  But by now he knows a LOT more.  And let me tell you, not all of it is good.  He’s seen me tired, cranky, mad, sad, in pain, in LABOR.  He’s seen how fast I can inhale a gigantic Chipotle burrito…guys, it’s not attractive.  He’s seen me when I’m being unreasonable, unfair, unloving.  He’s seen me when I’m being judgmental and unforgiving.  He’s smelled my breath in the morning before I brush my teeth, and seen me when I haven’t showered or changed out of my pajamas for several days.  And he still loves me.  Crazy, right?

So, yeah…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes miss the passion and excitement of young love…the romance.  Not that I’ve abandoned or given up on romance completely, but I miss all that free time we used to have to express our love to each other in new and unique ways.  I miss when date night was like every night of the week, and I learned something new about him every day.  I miss the rushing pulse.  But I wouldn’t trade what I have now for anything.  Passion is great, but it’s cheap.  I can vicariously experience that drama that I sometimes miss by listening to a story about a love triangle between a few supernatural teenagers (Oooo…that makes me sound really creepy, doesn’t it?  Now you know.  Total creeper.).  It reminds me of what I had then, which was great…and helps me appreciate what I have now…which is even better!

The Ginger Baby...

Here we see the redheaded child napping on his
non-redheaded mother's chest.

My child is a redhead. A carrot top.  A ginger.  Always has been, hopefully always will be.  My husband is not.  Neither am I.  And know what else I’m not?  A geneticist.  So, no…I can’t tell you exactly where my kid’s red hair comes from.  A light Google search indicates that since neither my husband nor I have red hair, we must both at least be carriers of the gene.  Beyond that, I’m still unclear how it all works.  And honestly, I just don’t care enough to research it further.  I feel like somehow we won some kind of genetic lottery, and that’s pretty much all the explanation I need.

However, there are multitudes of people out there that are just not satisfied with that level of explanation.  It is for those folks that I’m tempted to get this web address printed out on cards to pass out as the need arises:  http://www.myredhairgene.com/page1/page1.html.  I can’t tell you how many people—friends, family, and complete strangers alike—have stopped and asked me, “Where does the red hair come from?”  Some of those people have asked me more than once…as though they expect me to have done my homework since we last spoke and be able to give a more satisfactory answer this time.

Redheaded children sometimes enjoy reading.

I don’t know why this bothers me.  I really don’t.  I understand that most people are just trying to display friendly interest in my adorable little boy.  Red hair isn't super common.  I get it.  But sometimes, it irks me.  Especially when I encounter a complete stranger who feels they need to know.  Why?  Why do they care where the red hair comes from?  They don’t know anything else about me, but the only thing they WANT to know is why my kid’s hair is red?  Really?  Ok.

I’m not unfriendly, per se, but I do find it quite difficult to talk to strangers.  I’m shy.  I’m introverted.  Catch me on a really good day and I might be up for a brief chat with a random stranger, but generally speaking, the thought kind of scares me.  Maybe if I was more outgoing, none of this would bother me so much.

But then again, maybe it might.  Because what are they really trying to say by asking me that?  Are you asking if my husband is NOT my son’s father?  Well…that is none of your business.  Although, really all you need to do is look at them both to know the answer to that.  Sammy is his daddy’s little clone.  When people ask us when we’re all together, Hansen sometimes likes to joke that Sammy is the mail man’s baby…to which I always reply, “We have a mail lady.”

A redheaded child can have a non-redheaded father!

Maybe I’m reading too much into all of this.  Chances are, like I said before, people are just trying to be friendly.  They see my cute kid.  They want to say something, because hey…that’s a cute kid!  And the first thing that really jumps out at them is his hair color.  Deep down I know this is probably what really prompts the question.  Which is why I always smile, shrug and reply, “Well, there are a couple of redheads in Hansen’s extended family, and my dad had reddish hair when he was younger.  My hair has copper highlights…or it did before I started dyeing it.”  No one ever seems really happy with that answer, though.  They always walk away with a slightly baffled/disappointed expression. 

Ginger babies enjoy playing at the park.

So…I think I have come up with 3 exciting new ways to respond.  Here they are:

1.)     Pass out the aforementioned cards with the red hair gene website printed on them.  Let people do their own research.  Could include other facts/myths about redheads, too.  For example:  Redheads do, in fact, have souls.  They do not steal other people’s souls.  They do not become vampires when they die.  They do not, in my experience, bring bad luck.  They are not conceived out of “unclean” sex.  They are not going extinct.  They may or may not have bad tempers…just like people of any other hair color.  They are not witches or wizards (Ron Weasley not withstanding).  

a.       Pros:  Minimal awkward interactions with complete strangers.
b.     Cons:  Could be costly.  Would probably come off as rather unfriendly...or possibly crazy.

2.)     Act really awkward.  Avoid eye contact.  Mumble that “we don’t really like to talk about that.”
a.       Pros:  Might be fun to see how people react to that.
b.      Cons:  Would probably make both myself and the other party feel really uncomfortable.  And I’d feel guilty for implying some sort of family drama that doesn't really exist.  On second thought, probably won’t go through with this one.

3)     Tell people I dye his hair.
a.     Pros:  The reactions to this one would likely be really funny.  And of course I'd tell them I was kidding.  Probably.  This one has some real potential.
b.     Cons:  I'm not sure I see any.

Anyone else have any ideas for me? 

One thing I found out in my recent, half-hearted research… Denmark believes it’s an honor to have a redheaded child!  I am not Danish, but Hansen is.  So his family gets it!  One thing is for certain…I love my little redhead.  All the awkward inquiries in the world couldn't make me wish that ginger hair away!

My adorable little carrot top.

The lost months...

Easter Sunday, 2015

A happy belated Easter to anyone who still happens to stop by this utterly abandoned blog.  I think of it often.  And that's usually as far as it goes, because when I have to choose between giving my time to my child or giving it to my blog, the child wins every time.  Were my blog capable of screaming, throwing food around my kitchen, giving adorable, germ-spreading, open-mouthed kisses, or giggling angelically, choosing between the two might not be so easy.  But as things stand right now, there really is no contest.

So it seems another quick update is in order.

January - It was cold.  There was snow.  There's really nothing to say for it.  January is awful.

February - It was cold.  There was snow.  After one particular storm, we brought Sammy out into the snow in the new snowsuit he'd received from my parents for Christmas.  He sat in his car seat and was delighted with the falling snowflakes as Hansen and I shoveled the drive way and cleared snow off of Hansen's car.  When his little nose had turned red and we were just about ready to take him inside, we plopped him in a pile of snow and got his first "playing in the snow" photo. 

First time playing in the snow.

From my Valentine.

Other than that cute little photo op, and the Red Velvet Oreos and roses that Hansen got me for Valentine's day, February was useless until the very last week, when we left Illinois and went to Florida to visit my grandpa.  If you must be alive during February, I recommend doing it in Southwest Florida.  We had some great weather, and lots of fun visiting with my parents (who came with us) and my grandpa.  Sammy got to go in a swimming pool and a hot tub for the first time.  He preferred the hot tub! We also visited the Naples, FL botanical gardens, Corkscrew Swamps Animal Sanctuary (where we saw lots of wildlife...including a couple of alligators!), and, of course, the beach.  Sammy LOVED the beach, but did not care for the cold ocean water, so we mostly just played on a blanket in the sand.

Living the good life on the beach!

Sammy and Poupon fishing from the pier.

Sammy and Daddy in the pool.

Sammy and Daddy in the hot tub.

Sammy prefers the hot tub at night...when it's warm.

Picking an orange off of my grandpa's tree!

Unfortunately, the unfamiliar surroundings messed Sammy's sleep schedule up, so Hansen and I did not get quite as much rest as we had hoped for.  But we made the best of it, and the fact that my parents were there to help out was definitely a huge blessing.

I only read one book on vacation.  In years past I used to read 7 or more.  I'd average about a book a day.  But I think those days might be gone...if not forever, then for many, many years.

The only really crummy thing about the whole visit was the return flight.  We got to the airport around 8 PM for what was supposed to be a 9:56 PM departure.  However, as soon as we got there we were told that the flight had been delayed until something like 3 AM.  Then, after waiting around the airport for over an hour, we found out the flight was outright canceled.  So then we were scrambling to find hotel accommodations near the airport.  That was a nightmare.  We ended up at a Days Inn in the seediest part of Ft. Myers, surrounded by all night massage parlors, in a room with two double beds, which we shared with my parents.  Hansen crowds me to the very edge of our queen size bed pretty frequently, so you can imagine how it was with the three of us (Sammy included) sharing that nice little double.  I kept a foot braced against the wall for part of the night to keep from falling off into the narrow gap between the bed and the wall.  Also, Sammy woke in the middle of the night crying, so I paced him back and forth in the dark for about an hour, trying to keep him quiet enough for everyone else to sleep.  Not my best night on record.

The next day our flight was again delayed, so we spend most of the day waiting around, first in our hotel room and then at the airport.  Waiting around all day at an airport with an 11 month old baby is not as fun as it sounds.  Eventually, though, we did make it home.  And supposedly we're getting free round trip tickets out of the whole ordeal.  I haven't called the airline about that yet, but it's on my never ending to do list.

March - Things got a little warmer in Illinois.  The snow melted and we went on a few walks. 

On the H.U.M. Trail

The most notable piece of news about March was that Hansen installed a dishwasher!  I've never had a dishwasher.  It has changed my entire life!  I don't think I can go without one ever again, and Hansen is my hero.

Hansen and I also got new cell phones.  Kind of expensive (gulp), but so far we really like them.  And Sammy is thrilled that he gets to play with our old phones once in a while.  I'm trying not to let him have them too often, though.  I want them to remain somewhat of a novelty so that I can use them to distract him when things get a little hairy...like when we're stuck in an airport all day or something.

Just delighted with his new toy...Daddy's old cell phone.

April - Sammy turned 1 year old on April 1st!  It was a beautiful day.  I took a half day off of work and we went for a walk with his Granny in the afternoon.  Later that evening we had Granny and Poupon (my parents) and Grandma (Hansen's mom) over for dinner.  Sammy had a great day...opened some presents, ate destroyed some cake, and took some unsupported steps!!!  I just can't believe that a year has passed.  It some ways it seems like Sammy has always been with us.  And at other times I look at him and think, "We have a kid!  How did that happen?  When did that happen?  And when did that little 8 lb. 7oz. baby I remember get big enough to start walking?"

Filled with birthday joy...and chocolate cake.

And then came last weekend...Easter.  This was Sammy's second Easter and he spent much more of it conscious than he did last year.  After church in the morning, he got to go on an Easter egg hunt at his great grandparent's house.  Mostly he just picked up the eggs that I and others found, but he seemed to enjoy it.  He also got a few birthday gifts.  We postponed his birthday party until early May, when his uncle will be in town from San Diego, but a few people were too eager to wait until then.  Sam's great uncle Steve made him a beautiful, Sammy-sized picnic table out of repurposed cedar wood, and his Aunt Barbara and Uncle Tim got him a stuffed puppy that lights up and plays music.  Sammy was thrilled with both.

Sammy with his picnic table and puppy toy!

So...that's all the news that's worth sharing.  Or all that I can think of right now, anyway.  My mind is not at its sharpest these days.  I'm fighting off some kind of illness and I'm super tired.  Hopefully it won't last long.  Spring is here and I want to have enough energy to get out and enjoy it when I can!  It was long in coming.

Thanksgiving/Christmas Time Is Here (alternate title: The Easy Holiday and Baby's First Flu)

Wait…who told you I was going to post once a week?  Who?  It was me, you say?  And you believed me?  Well now, there’s your problem.  Never trust my ability to accurately predict my future actions.  ESPECIALLY if those future actions will depend on any sort of time management.  I have no concept of time…except when I’m in the shower.  Thanks to the lovely, new, battery-operated, water-resistant, shower clock radio that my husband got me for Christmas, I now know EXACTLY how long it takes for me to use up every last drop of hot water in the house.  And I can do it all while listening to NPR!

So…time has passed.  And, predictably, things have happened.  Sammy’s first Thanksgiving was a success.  He looked adorable in overalls, ate real turkey/mashed potatoes/various other traditional Thanksgiving dishes, and played with his cousins.  All I had to do for Thanksgiving was show up with my family and bring a broccoli casserole and some guacamole (which I made from the first crop of avocados that my grandpa’s avocado tree – in Florida – produced).  It was the very best kind of holiday…good conversation with family, delicious food, and (since  I wasn’t hosting) no need to spend hours cooking and/or doing major detail cleaning of my house.  It was so relaxing.

Then, about a week later, Sammy got a fever, followed by a rash that started on his head and face and eventually made its way all down his body.  So, that wasn’t at all relaxing.  And it only got worse from there.  December was a whirlwind of doctor visits (thankfully Sammy’s fever and rash were nothing serious, but it did take 2 doctor visits to confirm that), decorating the house for Christmas, Christmas shopping, parties, baking (I must be crazy), cooking, gift wrapping, and cleaning…in addition to the day-to-day activities that already have me just barely hanging onto my sanity.  But I was managing.  I had already decided to take Monday and Tuesday, the 22^nd and 23^rd of December, off of work so that I could clean and prepare the house for the guests that we were expecting on Christmas Day.  I was feeling pretty confident that those two days would be all I would need to get everything done without going crazy.  And then I took the 26^th off of work, too, so that I could spend a nice day relaxing after the excitement of a having a house full of people the day before.

Here's the nice Christmas photo we took of Sammy...
after Thanksgiving and after the rash, but before...

But…on the 20^th of December, Sammy came down with a fever again.  When it didn’t get any better, I took him back to the doctor on the 22^nd, and the doctor confirmed that Sammy had the flu…poor kid.  Later that night I found out the hard way that Sammy, like his mama, is not able to stomach Tamiflu, so I cleaned up the vomit (twice) and we soldiered on sans meds.  Monday night was a living nightmare and I felt so bad for my little guy.  He did eventually get some sleep, although, most of it was only when I was holding him, so I didn’t get much rest at all.  Tuesday was a little better, but he still cried almost every time I tried to set him down…and sometimes even when I was carrying him.  So, as you might imagine, very little cleaning and preparing for Christmas happened early that week.

Evidence of Tamiflu intolerance.

Tuesday morning.  Ugh.

He looks happy...but he wasn't.

 By Christmas Eve he was doing somewhat better…Still a bit on the cranky side, but his appetite had returned and I was able to set him down with some toys for  short periods without him starting to cry as soon as I walked into another room.  We did enjoy some nice time with our family on Christmas Eve…Christmas Eve brunch with my parents and (some of) my siblings, and Christmas dinner with Hansen’s grandparents, (some) siblings, and (some) extended family. 

And somehow, Christmas Day went smoothly, too.  I’m sure it’s mostly thanks to all the help I had from Hansen with the cooking and the cleaning.   We had 10 of Hansen’s family members over for dinner, plus Hansen, Sammy and myself.  That is pretty much the maximum number of people that will fit into our dining area.  I was surprised that we all fit as well as we did in our little house.  There were no arguments, dinner was good, and there were more than 2 kinds of dessert, so we called it a success.  After most of the guests had left for the night, we finished off the day by playing a highly inappropriate game of Cards Against Humanity with a few of Hansen’s siblings.  It was nice to end the day with some good, hard laughs. 

Particularly nice tree this year!

Added a stocking for Sammy this year!

 On Friday, after Christmas, my mom asked me how I had enjoyed my time off and I just looked at her and said, “What time off?”  I love Christmas…and I totally think that it’s worth the effort to carry on family traditions…but man, am I exhausted!  I don’t know how my own mother has carried on all the traditions (many more than I do) that she has championed in our family for so long…with not one, but three children…and working full time for at least the last 14 years.  It amazes me.  And it’s definitely something to aspire to!

On Monday, the 29^th, I was almost headed back to work when I got a call from my mom (who was going to watch Sammy for me that day) telling me that she thought she might have strep throat, but that she was still willing to watch Sam.  Well, since he still hadn’t fully recovered from the flu, and I didn’t want to take the chance of exposing him to more illness, I ended up working from home so that my mom could stay home and rest.  I’m so glad I did, because after over a week of sickness and crankiness, Sammy finally recovered his sunny disposition on Monday.  His little smiles make me temporarily forget the fact that I’m so tired I can barely function.  And not only did he smile at me, but he crawled for the very first time!  Prior to getting sick, he had been very close to crawling for a few weeks.  He’d been getting up on his hands and knees and rocking…even started pushing himself backwards.  But on Monday afternoon, he finally put it all together and mastered forward motion.  Of course, he went straight for the Christmas tree and started grabbing at ornaments.  Soooo, now it’s time to take the tree down.  Never a dull moment.  At least we made it through Christmas.

Sammy is all smiles again!  Faith is tolerating his attention.

And now, here I am…at the very end of a great year.  It has been one of the most exciting and challenging years of my entire life.  A year that I will never forget or regret.  A year that changed my life in the very best way…forever.  And I am so grateful!  Tired…but definitely grateful.  I’m excited to see what 2015 has in store for me and my family…and hope it holds good things for you, too!  See you next year!  Happy New Year, everyone!

Jonesing...

My blog just hit 1,000 views!  I shall celebrate this rather unremarkable milestone with a new, long overdue post!

 Okay…I’m not gonna sugar coat it…although that sounds delicious…I want a cookie real bad.  And I’m not just talking the chocolate sandwich variety, which I've spoken of in the past.  No…I’d take pretty much anything at this point.  I believe they call this “jonesing”.  It is 8 AM, 9 degrees outside, I’m in my pajamas, but the thought has already crossed my mind that I should get up, get dressed enough to make myself look like a productive member of society (and not the deranged cookie consuming degenerate that I truly am), bundle up my baby, and head out to the grocery store to buy a package or two (or five). 

But I won’t do that.  At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.  See…I’m back on the wagon.  Well…more like trailing half-heartedly behind the wagon while whining, “Hey guuuuys?  Can you slow doooown?”  What does that look like, exactly?  Well, I haven’t bought a package of Oreos in about a month.  And, with no measurable degree of regularity, I've been increasing my vegetable intake.  That’s about it at this point.  Baby steps.

And before you send me recipes for some fantastic vegan, sugar-free, wheat free, ingredient free cookies that are “totally awesome”…let me just stop you by saying that I don’t consider those cookies.  I consider them food.  I might even consider them “pretty good, actually”.  But I don’t consider them cookies.  For something to be a cookie it has to be at least a little bit bad for you.

“But Amy,” you might say, “even a cookie that is high in fat and sugar can be okay if consumed in moderation within the context of a balanced and healthy diet.”  Well, if you can consume delicious cookies in moderation, bully for you.  I’m still working on that.

Why am I attempting to rein in my cravings?  I’d like to give you some explanation along the lines of, “It’s not about losing weight, I really just want to be healthier and take care of my body.”  But I’d be lying to you if I said that.  It’s totally, definitely about losing weight. Despite the fact that I’m still nursing Sam (for now…until he finally succeeds in actually biting my nipples off, as he’s been trying to do with his new chompers of late), the weight is not just effortlessly falling off.  I literally thought I was pregnant earlier this week.  My poochy tummy wasn't the only thing that had me thinking pregnancy was a possibility…I've also been really tired the last couple of weeks (my first pregnancy symptom with Sammy), and almost insatiably hungry.  Then, yesterday I was convinced that I was feeling a bit nauseous.  But I tested this morning and it was negative, so that can only mean one thing.  It’s time for a diet.

I think I’d rather be pregnant than on a diet…although dieting is definitely cheaper, since it doesn't require monthly doctor visits and a lifelong commitment to love, nurture, and protect another human life.  Plus, despite the mild to moderate case of baby fever that I've been battling for the last month or two, realistically I know that right now would be not the greatest, most convenient time to start adding to our family again.  Although…when is having a baby ever convenient?  Never.  If you decide to have a baby, you’re basically asking to be inconvenienced.  But despite that, I was still a little disappointed when I saw the single pink line on the pregnancy test this morning.  Because it’s so worth all the inconvenience…definitely, emphatically worth it.

So…it looks like I’ll be talking myself out of two things for a while: Cookies and more babies.  Hopefully, maybe 20 pounds from now, there will be a time when I can say yes to both again.  And for now I’ll enjoy what I already have…Sammy…my adorable, sweet baby boy.

And these carrot sticks…I guess.

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! :)