¿Do we do this in English or Spanish?

Pressure

2011-11-05T23:06:00.000-07:00

I remember how I felt when I first started this blog. I was excited to have a place to put my thoughts. I was anxious to share with friends and family as a way of connecting. I was curious if anyone would read my blog and find what I have to say interesting. I wondered if my blog would be discovered by strangers who would share with their friends and presto! I'd have followers! Mostly I wondered if anyone would read it.

Now, it has become just another part of my life I feel pressured by. Daily I check my Google Reader and enjoy the words and wit and wisdom of friends and strangers I've chosen to follow and I wonder why I can't think of anything to say myself. My life is full. Why can't I talk about it? I'm funny. Why can't I think of anything witty to share? Lord knows I have the most ridiculous thoughts sometimes. Why can't I put those thoughts into words and share them with the world?

It seems like more and more I've become aware of how much incredible pressure I put on myself to, ... whatever. Fill in the blank. Pressure to be funny. Pressure to be clever. Pressure to be profound. Pressure to do the f-ing dishes. It is everywhere! In so many degrees and to be honest, it is really starting to annoy me. Oh how I long for that time in my life when I didn't worry about what other people thought! Of course, when I really stop to think about that "time in my life", I realize I can't really remember a time when I didn't care what other people think. Hell, worrying about everyone else and their perception of me is one of the big reasons I wound up in therapy. But I digress.

But it isn't just the pressure I put on myself. Since I've become a mother I pay close attention to the blogosphere. I read my mommy books. I subscribe to magazines. The pressure is freaking everywhere. And it isn't just on mommies. Sure, I feel this pressure as a mommy. But I also feel it as a woman. As an American. As a human, for crying out loud. Like living on Earth these days means being snuggled up inside a pressure cooker and, wait for it, acting like you're not.

That's the crux of the problem. The biggest stress of all. That despite all this, pressure, in order to truly be the ultimate mother, woman, employee, or whatever, you have to act like despite all the pressure to be perfect, you truly are under no pressure at all. You must give the impression that it is no big deal and that this brilliance you achieve in every aspect of your life is really just a coincidence.

Take motherhood, for example. The ultimate example of pressure. In order to be a good, albeit great mother, you must feed your baby the healthiest options available. Surely you could never consider feeding your baby, your child, anything less than the best. Veggies at every meal? Of course. Fresh veggies? Duh. Organic veggies? Obviously. Local veggies? Only if you truly care about the ... world. I mean, if you don't care about the world at all I guess you could feed your child fresh, organic green beans from, (gasp!) California, but if you truly give a crap about the community you bother to live in than SURELY you will bother to buy local, farm-fresh, organic green beans picked THIS MORNING. I mean, come on, don't you care at all?

See what I mean by pressure? Do you know how expensive it is to buy ~~local~~ ~~organic~~ ~~fresh~~ veggies? Yeah, I said it. It is just plain expensive to get something green on my child's plate, let alone the premium stuff the primo-mommies are providing their children.

Regardless of what the topic is - food, clothing, discipline, education - the pressure is on for mommies to provide the best. We must carefully research each topic, weed out the nonsense, avoid the insane and overly zealous and ultimately deliver what is unquestionably the perfect specimen of childhood nutrition at every instance that our child opens his/her mouth. If we don't, well, we suck and have failed at parenting.

But that isn't even the real pressure. The actual part of the story that makes mommies cringe is not that we make the best decision about what we feed our children. The irony of the whole story is that we have to appear completely disinterested in the whole topic. Not only do you have to spend all morning researching the availability of organic arugula at the local farmers' markets, you also have to act like choosing the $6 per pound greens was merely an afterthought to your weekly menu planning. "Of course I thought about it, but I didn't think too much." It isn't that buying organic, local produce is something I worry about, rather it is something that just naturally occurs in my grocery shopping experience.

All around us we have to make the popular, worldly, educated choice but more importantly, you have to appear like choosing this option wasn't really a big deal. "Oh, you feed your baby canned green beans? Good for you! Where do you buy them? I mean, I usually get my green beans in my weekly produce box from the community garden down the street, but canned green beans would be so convenient! Aren't you clever for choosing something so innovative as canned green beans? Thank you for setting such a good example for mommies everywhere!"

What is so exhausting about this whole topic of disinterested perfection is that it applies to every f-ing aspect of our lives. The message is everywhere.

Be green. Avoid BPA at all costs. Conserve energy. Recycle. But don't freak out about plastic bags or canned tomatoes or plastic water bottles at parties because really, you can only do so much.
Eat well. Exercise. Look great in a bikini! But don't worry about your body too much because it isn't healthy to be obsessed about how you look.
Honor your home. Nurture your family. Provide a loving environment for your children. But make sure you portray the ideal feminist by working full time, climbing the corporate ladder and stomping on any idiot that gets in the way of your career.
Whip up a delicious spread of snacks for a crowd coming over to watch the football game, decorate your house in the appropriate team's colors and make favors of personalized football jersey sugar cookies complete with every guests' name but also be able to commentate the entire game and get really irritated by the idiot ref's call during the fourth quarter.
Create the most beautiful centerpiece imaginable but make sure you can put it together with whatever you have lying around your house.
Be able to debate the most complex political issue but also be able to recommend the most fashionable red wine to serve at your book club and know what your teenager enjoys listening to on the radio but also be able to identify the lead in the off-Broadway performance of Miss Saigon this weekend and how she compares to the lady who portrayed her last season and how to copy what she wore on the red carpet using what you can find at the local consignment shop and a packet of sequins purchased at Joann's with a 50% off coupon.

Yeah. That's pressure. Perform as if your life depends on it but make sure you act like you don't give a damn.

And then be sure to blog about it.

Pesto Presto

2011-09-04T22:46:00.000-07:00

What is it about pesto? If I see something on a menu that has pesto in it I'm immediately drawn to it. The mere thought of pesto makes me think of summer and delicious dishes and spreading pesto deliciousness on crackers/toast/pita/my finger...whatever. It is so good. Garlic? Oh yeah. Fresh basil? Be still my heart. There is not one thing about pesto that is bad which is why it so, so good.

What I love about pesto is that it is easy to make and incredibly forgiving. You can make pesto out of anything. I think the most traditional recipe involves garlic (I love you, Garlic), basil, pine nuts, parmesan cheese and olive oil. Not much to complain about with this combination of delightful ingredients, but I will mention that pine nuts are ridiculously expensive. I typically replace the pine nuts with it's very unglamorous cousin, the walnut. To be perfectly honest, I can't really tell the difference in taste, but my wallet thanks me.

Other substitutions are often made to save some calories. Traditional pestos require copious amounts of oil (though olive oil is very good for you), cheese and nuts. Now, these ingredients bring much to the table in terms of flavor but they also pack on the calories and fat grams. I'm totally on board with the good fat found in olive oil and nuts, but I enjoy eating pesto with a spoon and even too much of a good thing is a bad thing.

My recipe for pesto serves it's purpose well in that it gives me that garlicky, basil spread but saves my wallet and my daily calorie count. Remember, pesto is forgiving. Add more of whatever flavor makes your heart sing and go ahead, eat it with a spoon.

Summer Pesto

Combine in food processor:
3-4 garlic cloves
huge handful of fresh basil leaves
1/3 cup of shelled pistachio nuts (roasted and salted) or whatever nut you have handy
2 ounces of grated parmesan cheese
1 zucchini, cut into 1/4 inch slices
pinch of salt and pepper

Pulse in food processor till well combined and thick.

Stream in oil (olive, canola, whatever you have) until pesto is desired consistency. You don't need as much as you think. The zucchini helps stretch the recipe and only mildly affects the flavor. I can't taste it.

I've frozen pesto in ice cube trays for easy additions to pastas and sauces. If you are going to store fresh pesto, I suggest you put it in a deep container (so you have less surface area exposed to air) and cover the surface with oil to avoid the pesto turning brown. If it does turn brown, by all means, use it anyway, it will taste great, it will just be brown. Simply turn off the lights so you can't see and eat it with a spoon. It is so, so good.

Blog Delinquent

2011-08-27T10:07:00.000-07:00

I wanted to come up with this really ingenious excuse for why I haven't blogged lately. Even as I write this I'm coming up completely blank. Sometimes, you just go months without anything really interesting to say.

Anything I really feel like blogging about I can't imagine would be interesting to anyone else. Maybe I should explore a theme for this blog to give me some direction.

Anyhoo, at least my friends who have me linked into their blogs will no longer have to look at "4 months ago" as my most recent post.

Who's flying this plane, anyway?

2011-04-08T21:03:00.000-07:00

There are so many things about myself that I never realized until I became a parent.

I didn't realize that I would be completely cliché about all things parenting, for starters. Normally repulsed by any discussion of bodily functions, I will now happily chatter away about the size, frequency, and consistency of Camille's BMs. We have taken easily 5000 pictures of Camille since her birth. I stood staring at a bib in Target that said, "I'm the Star of Mommy's Blog" for about 5 minutes debating whether I should buy it or not.

I was also hoping to be the kind of parent that just does everything naturally but instead I read any and every book regarding pregnancy and childrearing that was recommended to me. The last part is important because I didn't realize how important it would be to me to be current on all the trends. Whatever the "it" topic (food, sleep training, safety) I want to make sure I'm aware, educated and armed with an opinion because God knows I don't want to be the clueless parent. Of course, this just emphasizes how completely clueless I am about parenting. Camille has proven time and time again that books be damned, she's doing it her own way.

But the biggest surprise I've had since becoming a parent is the realization that I am a complete control freak. I think this will come to no surprise to my friends and family, and certainly not to my husband, but it really blindsided me. Losing all sense of control when you become a parent is probably fairly normal, and my desire to always appear smart, capable and good at whatever I'm doing really came back and bit me in the ass the moment control started slipping away.

I thought heart surgery would be the hardest part of the journey. Again, in my effort to appear educated and wise, I said that we may have trouble conceiving, but I never really imagined the magnitude of our fertility challenges. I told people I knew pregnancy and delivery would be incredibly challenging, but I believed that my experience would be okay and would go the way I expected. Then Camille came 6 weeks early and required an 18 day stay in the NICU. I made sure people knew that I understood how challenging breastfeeding could be for mommas, but I really believed that it wouldn't be that way for me.

Like putting checkmarks on a shopping list, each of my preconceived notions about all things regarding conception, gestation, and delivery of our daughter have been placed in the "That's what you think" category. I suppose if I were a better person I would sit back, enjoy the ride, and chalk it up to being all part of the experience and joy a parenting.

But I'm not that person and the reality is, it is really hard. Each time I watch another one of my well thought out plans go drifting out the window part of me feels really sad and disappointed, and another part feels like saying, "You dummy, that's what you get for thinking you can control how things go." The latest example of this is breastfeeding. Before Camille, I planned to breastfeed if I ever became a mother and never really considered the alternative. When Camille came early, I knew the only way to continue with my plan was to have a pump in ICU with me. So, by golly, I made certain there was a breast pump in there and I started pumping within hours of delivery. And every 3 hours after that. For...ever. Camille wasn't ready to breastfeed exclusively till 8 weeks old, so we fed, pumped and gave bottles every 3 hours for 2 months. And the day the lactation consultant told us we didn't have to pump anymore, I rejoiced.

I still planned to breastfeed till one year and wean her over the summer. Once again, my plan was rejected. Camille took a break from being a champion nurser and my supply took a dip around 5 months. We didn't realize there was a problem till her weight was affected and despite 2 more months of constant pumping and feeding, supplementing with formula, herbs, massage, tea, water, you name it, we never really recovered. Like a stubborn, bull-headed mule I've fought and fought this to the brink of insanity and though I've been done pumping for a week and only nurse once a day, if at all, I still want to cry about it.

It isn't formula. Formula is fine - Camille is thriving. I just wanted this neat, pretty, perfect mommy experience where we breastfeed for a year, take long walks in the stroller, go to farmers' markets with her strapped to me and buy organic veggies, you know. The idyllic experience that is sort of silly because being a mommy isn't pretty and perfect. Instead, it is exhausting, tear-stained, and covered in sweet potatoes. And that little scene I had in my head got replaced with reality. Which is SO much better anyway.

Our reality is making Camille a bottle in the morning and snuggling with her in her chair while she sucks it down and lets out a trucker burp. Reality is Camille sneezing during her mouthful of dinner and spraying it all over me, and then looking up at me and laughing. Reality is Bill telling me he has to change Camille's clothes after their walks because he sweats so much in the Ergo. I much prefer reality because every movie has the scene I'd envisioned in my head, but I'm the only one who has Camille.

I know there will be many other points in Camille's life where I will imagine it a certain way, only to find out that what I want/think/dream doesn't really matter, because it isn't about me. I would be lying if I thought I could let my desire for control go, so I won't, but I do hope that over time I learn to get over it quickly. I definitely have better things to do.

Teddy writes a letter

2011-03-21T21:27:00.000-07:00

Just in case you missed it on Teddy's blog:

http://teddylovestreats.blogspot.com/2011/03/letter-to-my-baby.html

Bullying sucks

2011-02-16T21:33:00.000-08:00

We had an assembly today. I remember as kids there was nothing better than an assembly. Mainly because you get out of class. In fact, I think when we were headed back to class we felt a little disappointed, not because we had to go back to class but because the assemblies were usually a letdown. Today's assembly was about bullying. It seems that this year especially we have spend a considerable amount of time talking with kids about bullying and what they can do to help improve the school culture. More than ever before it seems like this message is falling on deaf ears. I think kids know all the answers adults want to hear when it comes time to talk about bullying and how to decrease those behaviors but I also get the sense that they are humoring us. "Bullying can leave lifelong scars." "The bullies do it for attention." "The bullies may have sad lives at home." Kids have heard this message before but they seem numb to the subject.

I don't think this means that kids don't care. Why bullying is such a problem is a whole other subject. Changes in technology? Popular culture that glorifies and rewards the "mean kids"? A numbness to the feelings of others due to ________ (absent parents, violent video games, high fructose corn syrup)? Whatever the reason bullying is rampant in our schools, I think kids do care about the problem, it just is so very, very big. If I'm feeling helpless, how must they feel?

The presentation was good today. Fresh voice, energetic speaker with a story of his own, et cetera. The difference today was that this was the first time I've talked about bullying as a mother. Though I was sitting in a gym surrounded by middle school children, my thoughts the entire time were on Camille. And I just felt like crying. This ache settled deep in my bones for her and I felt like I couldn't breathe properly. I had to really fight to stay in control because crying in front of a middle schoolers is really embarrassing.

I just can't take the thought that someone could be mean to her. Someone someday might say something to her that hurts her. Or scares her. Or makes her doubt her worth. The thought makes my skin crawl. As I was listening to the presentation, watching video clips of kids at schools across the country, I started thinking about private school. How much would it cost? Could we consider that as an option to protect her? But I can't protect her. Not really. At some point in her life, she is going to figure it out. Even if I shelter her from reality as long as possible she will come across meanness in this world. She will discover eventually that not everyone is kind, not everyone is considerate, not everyone cares about her feelings.

I don't know who my girl will become. But I pray with all my might that whether butcher, baker or candlestick maker that she be kind. That she cares for her fellow man. That she have empathy. I pray she'll embrace diversity and respect people when they are different than she. And I pray that somehow, we'll teach her how to respond when she realizes that not all rest of the world is like that.

The assembly did speak to me about my own actions and behaviors as well. On the drive home, another driver "merged" into my lane in a way that should better be described as "barging in without looking at a really unsafe speed and with total disregard for lines on the road and traffic laws". I believe I said something to the affect of, "nice driving, jerko." Little ears will soon be in the car with me and will understand not just that what I said was mean, but also how easily I judged, criticized, ridiculed and condemned someone who made a mistake. I treated a total stranger as if he had no feelings. And I do it all the time. How can I expect my daughter to respect people who make mistakes, to be courteous to others, if I toss insults around without a second thought? How can I expect my daughter to be sensitive to others' feelings if I laugh and joke at TV shows whose entire purpose is to mock people? Just because I don't know someone personally doesn't take away my responsibility to respect him or her. I need to clean up my act, and quickly. She can't talk yet, but my baby can hear. She can understand. And she is learning every day about the world around her.

The time has come

2011-01-22T15:24:00.000-08:00

Oh man, I've been dreading this post. I haven't posted in a long time because I have been composing it in my head, knowing that after this post, everything will be very, very different. Before this post, I was a stay at home mommy and after, I'll be a working mommy. I could get all negative and mopey about returning to work, and that would be true to how I'm feeling, but instead I'd like to at least try to find some positives.

What I will miss when I return to work is obvious. My baby girl is slowly moving out of the fragile, baby stage into the fun, exciting stage. Everything she does enthralls her. Finding her feet, pulling on her tights, trying her darndest to flip onto her tummy. I'll just plain miss watching her. And holding her. Our new fun thing is to look at mirrors. I hold her and she grins and grins, trying to figure it out. Is mommy holding me, or is she in there? So fun.

At six and a half months, Camille is just awesome. She can flip from her tummy to her back without a pause and just recently learned that her feet will reach all the way to her mouth. She is eating rice cereal and seems to really enjoy the new texture and taste. She is a bouncing machine in her jumperoo and adores the pink bear that Grannie and Grandpa gave her that sings. She falls asleep for her naps within minutes and can sleep all night without needing attention from us. She still wakes up periodically, but can put herself back to sleep in usually 10 minutes.

She is constantly smiling. When she wakes up, when she eats, when playing with a toy, when looking at Teddy. My favorite is when we put her on the changing table to get her sleep sack on before bed. Daddy reads from a book while I get her in the sleep sack and she always looks back towards him the second you lay her down, because she's looking for Bill to start reading. And she grins this huge grin. Baby Girl loves her daddy.

It will be so amazing to have Bill take over because he is the kind of dad every kid wants. He is goofy, he is fun, he is devoted, and he completely adores her. Bill will now understand how fast time can really go.

Even though there is so much that I will miss there are actually some things that I will not miss.

1. Washing baby dishes. I pump and give her a bottle every time I feed her. That equals a lot of pump parts and bottles to wash and sterilize. My hands are like sand paper. When Camille goes down for her nap, I spend 20 minutes washing everything. I will not miss that.

2. Playing the guessing game. What time will she wake up? How long will she sleep? When will she want to eat? If she wakes up at this time, will we have time to eat before we need to leave? What if she only sleeps 35 minutes? Will we need another nap before dinner? Ugh.

3. Teddy's eyes. That dog has been staring at me with those huge chocolate eyes for months with such a look of disappointment. I'm home, yet he is ignored. He doesn't even get excited about walks anymore because they are so infrequent (thank you rain and unpredictable schedule).

4. The elusive nap. I am a terrible napper. A nap has to find me, not the other way around. I'll be just starting to drift, you know that moment that feels so good as you are just starting to fall asleep? Then I hear her on the monitor. Bill always seems mystified that I didn't take more naps during my maternity leave, especially when I was up three times a night. My naps now will be intentional. And successful. And probably just as infrequent.

5. Online shopping. It is so, so easy, and so, so dangerous. I need a new book. Zing! It arrives on my doorstep. Camille needs a new _____. Zing! Two days later it is here! I've never been patient and free two day shipping at Amazon is a scary, scary thing for stay at home mommies.

6. Grizzly, Chaucer, and Emmy. Those damn (sorry) dogs have been driving me apeshit since Camille's napping became more predictable. Grizzly is the German Shepherd with completely moronic owners who let him run around off leash. Grizzly thinks people calling him or trying to get him to come in is a hilarious game, which makes his owners yelling "Grizzly" constantly completely counterproductive, as Grizzly just runs the other way. Chaucer and Emmy are the dogs across the street who are never allowed off leash or out of their yard and bark non stop when they see Grizzly strutting around the street or turning cookies in our grass. Miraculously they've never woken Camille but they've caused my blood pressure to sky rocket, made even worse when I talk to Grizzly's owners and hear, "We try to get him in and he never comes." Maddening.

That's it. Those things are the ONLY things I will not miss. Everything else I will miss terribly. Camille and I will never get to spend this much one on one time together again unless one of us is sick, which would completely suck. I am completely blessed to have been able to spend 7 months with her and I know how lucky, lucky, lucky I am. And it has to end, right? And now our relationship will change, but it will be just as sweet. Just different, and that's okay.

Do I sound convincing?

Blockhead

2011-01-04T14:05:00.000-08:00

I looked up online to find out that Black Ironwood is the densest, hardest wood on the planet, but I should have known because my head is made of it. Remember that last post I wrote? The one about sleep? The one where I am perplexed at why people always ask me if my baby is hungry? Well, back to that dome of wood that sits atop my shoulders...she was.

We went to the doctor for her 6 month appointment and discovered that she's only gained 3 ounces in a month. She should have gained a pound. Her percentile has dropped from 20% to 7% in weight. The doctor asked me to talk about her feedings and I told her how Camille often cries when I switch sides and sometimes takes 5 minutes or more to calm down after a feeding. I thought she needed help burping since she's always been a lousy burper. Then doctor asked if she does that after her nightly bottle. No, she doesn't. Because she's not hungry after her bottle.

In my defense, I never had production problems before and she eats at least every 2-3 hours. But apparently I have some production problems now which is why she hasn't been gaining weight. She's getting enough calories to support her length gain and head circumference gain, which are both right on target, but there isn't anything left to add to those squishy cheeks and nummy thighs.

I can feel bad all I want but the more important thing to do is to get her back on track, which is fairly simple: just give her a bottle chaser after she breastfeeds. We have milk stored in the freezer and Camille will eat formula, so this shouldn't be a problem at all. In fact, after her last feeding, she chugged a full 6 ounces from the bottle. (That is about what she eats for her nighttime feeding and she ate that in addition to breastfeeding.)

I know it isn't my fault but I feel like such a nitwit.

Bleary-eyed

2010-12-16T07:44:00.000-08:00

Sigh. To say the last couple of weeks have been a little tough is like saying the Olson twins are a little thin. Or Edgar Allen Poe is a little dark. Or...you get the idea. Three weeks ago our sweet little Camille had a major change in terms of sleeping and the result is a very tired and stressed-out quartet of Burels. I think what makes this so difficult is we're almost 6 months into this game, and this is a whole new strategy from Baby Burel. And we did NOT see it coming. Well played, my love, well played.

It started with Camille's naps suddenly dropping down to 30 minutes. For those of you not obsessed with infant sleep, at this age a baby should sleep roughly 10 hours at night and anywhere from 3-5 hours during the day, depending on which expert you are reading at the time. The 3-5 hours of daytime sleep is usually in the form of 3-4 naps. So quite obviously, Camille's 30 minute nap regime was not sufficient daytime sleep. Even if she took 5 naps (which she does) it still isn't hitting the minimum daytime sleep hours. And 5 naps a day is really annoying.

I tried everything to extend her naps. The Baby Whisperer offered the "pick up/put down" strategy, which is (duh) picking up the baby when she cried and immediately putting her down when she stops. Rinse and repeat until baby is asleep. I tried that for awhile and only once succeeded in extending her nap by 15 minutes. And it took 30 minutes to do so. The Baby Whisperer recommends "wake to sleep" as a technique to extend naps. Gently stirring the baby before she wakes up at 30 minutes supposedly resets her meter and allows her to sleep through to the next sleep cycle. That one never worked, instead it just took a couple minutes off her 30 minute nap. The Baby Whisperer suggests "sitting", thoughtfully named for the technique of sitting with the baby without moving or engaging until she is asleep. I still do that but it doesn't extend naps, it is just part of our naptime routine. I tried a bunch of things from the No Cry Nap Solution, but all I can remember is giving Camille a "lovey", creating a consistent routine and buying blackout shades.

After about a week of this, Camille's nighttime sleep also changed. She'd been going down around 7pm after a set routine. Bill and I would put her in our bed to start out the night and then move her. We did this because she was screaming for several hours a little over a month ago and laying on the bed with her put her to sleep quickly. After the change in naps, laying on the bed became problematic because she would wake during transfer. No amount of consoling and soothing would put her back to sleep and after a few nights of that, I was going mad. A baby screaming in your ear for 2 hours is no fun. Again, I think what made it so bad was it was a change from her previous behavior. Who was this child?

Feeling like we had no other choices, we looked into the Ferber method. For those of you not versed in infant sleep strategies, Ferber used to be known as the "cry it out" method and was pretty controversial at the time. It also has had a hard time overcoming that reputation. We decided to go ahead and do it since she was screaming anyway. Ferber suggests progressive waiting, which means putting baby down, soothing a short time after that and gradually extending the wait time.

After buying the book and reading about the method we were convinced this is the right thing to do, just unsure if it is the right time to do it. Ferber suggests not using progressive waiting until the baby is 4-6 months old. Camille is 5 and a half months, but because of her preemie-ness she is four months and 3 days as of today. Another problem is she could still need a feeding during the night. A lot of experts say that the baby doesn't need a feeding in the middle of the night past 6 months.

We trudged ahead because again, we felt we had no choices. What we were doing was not working, was making everyone crazy and sleep deprived. So we started. We decided we would no longer put her in our bed. We also stopped the swaddle. We agreed that if she woke during the night, I would feed her once. The first two nights were pretty hard. She went down easy but woke quickly after 30-45 minutes. She cried for 50 minutes. She woke again later that night, after midnight and I fed her. She then cried 50 minutes. For two nights it was a variation of that pattern. Teddy would whine in his crate. I was curled up in a ball sobbing. Bill was listening to his whole family cry.

It got better after the second night. Still wake ups, but less crying to go back to sleep. She also had two amazing morning naps, 90 minutes for one and 2 and a half hours for another! I thought we'd maybe turned a corner. Then last night.

Down easy, cries that lasted less than a minute. Then she woke up at 12:20. Pretty early for her night feeding and she'd eaten 9 ounces before bed, so I decided we should let her cry rather than me nursing her back to sleep. She cried for over an hour. Bill was confused why I'd changed the plan. When he said that, I got up and fed her and she fell asleep quickly. And woke again at 3:45. And cried until 5 when I got her up. We ate, dressed and played. She was incredibly tired but I got her to stay up until 6:30. Her usual morning nap is at 8. I'm not sure what this is going to do to her routine today. Should be interesting. I feel bad for me, as I've had almost no sleep but I feel worse for Bill who is greeting 8th graders this morning on just as little sleep as me.

We're not sure how to adjust the plan, but I've learned some things the last couple of weeks.

1. You can't make a baby stay awake or go to sleep. You can try, but if they stay awake or go to sleep, don't think you had anything to do with it.

2. People who don't have young children assume that kids are always hungry. They never guess that the baby is tired. Before I had a baby, I probably assumed hunger too. With my baby, she is usually tired. In fact, if Camille is crying it is one of 3 things, in this order:
1) she's tired
2) something else is wrong and by the time you figure it out, it won't be bothering her anymore
3) she's hungry
People often ask me when she is crying if she is hungry. It is usually less than an hour after I've fed her. I wonder why no one ever asks if she is tired.

3. Regardless of what people think, I really appreciate those people who offer support, not criticism. When you are in the thick of it, "Why don't you..." kind of makes the hairs on my neck stand up, especially if it is accompanied by a "Well we never/always...". My parents have been incredible since Camille was born. Though I'm sure they have opinions about how Bill and I are doing things, they have never said one thing about any of our decisions. Instead, they just ask questions, offer encouragement, and tell us we're doing a great job. They probably have a ton to say about it in the car ride on the way home, but they've never once criticized in any way.

4. Sleep training is hard on the whole family. Without sleep, I get very emotional and have a hard time dealing with stressful situations, like a baby screaming in my ear for two hours. Without sleep, Bill has a hard time dealing with 150 8th graders. When forced to listen to a crying baby for hours on end, Teddy gets stressed out. He had a gastro incident this week that prompted a vet visit. $150, two shots, and two prescriptions later, it was determined that it was likely caused by stress. So sleep training gives Teddy diarrhea.

We'll figure out what is best for this family. One thing that is so clear about parenthood is that what is right for one family may be wrong for another and vice versa. That is why there are so many experts and stupid books. This mama likes things a little more clear cut which is why this has been the most challenging thing I've done in my life.

In the meantime, somethings haven't changed. Camille is still the prettiest baby I have ever seen. Her smile is starting to turn into a laugh, which is glorious. Her eyes light up when you walk into a room and her fingers curl around my shirt while she's nursing. She is a delight and when she happens to be having a great stretch of sleep, I find myself missing her. I mean, look at this child:

Amazing.

Ahh, marketing

2010-11-22T16:06:00.000-08:00

There is a commercial on television for Nutella, a chocolate hazelnut spread that is quite possibly the most delicious thing you consider a condiment. What cracks me up about this commercial is how they spin it to make Nutella a healthy food. Mom is running around, busy, trying to get her kids out the door complaining about how difficult it can be to get them to eat a healthy breakfast. She goes on to say that she is grateful for Nutella because now she can get her kids the healthy start to the day they need. By spreading Nutella on whole grain bread. The kids gobble it up.

Of course they do. I would eat Nutella spread on a piece of cardboard. Or shoe leather. Or a rice cake. I just wouldn't then turn around and say it is healthy. Would the same mother allow the kids to put frosting on their bread? What about melted chocolate? This commercial drives me so crazy that I looked up the nutrition information for Nutella as well as some other foods. Allow me to compare.

Nutella has 200 calories and 21 grams of sugar for each serving of 2 tablespoons.

2 tablespoons of chocolate chips has 110 calories and 9 grams of sugar.
2 tablespoons of canned chocolate frosting has 140 calories and 16 grams of sugar.

Now, I fully understand that calories alone don't determine if a food is healthy or not. Usually I consider fat, protein, fiber and vitamins as well.

Nutella has 11 grams of fat, 3 grams of protein, 1gram of fiber, 4% of your daily requirements of calcium and iron.

Chocolate chips have 5 grams of fat, 1 gram of protein, 1 gram of fiber and 4% daily requirement of iron and 2% calcium.

The frosting has 8 grams of fat, 1 gram of protein, 1 gram of fiber and 4% daily requirement of iron.

After comparing the numbers, I would probably go with the chocolate chips for overall health because of the low fat and calorie count. I wonder if Nestle should consider marketing chocolate chips as health food. All they have to do is put them on whole grain bread.

Three songs I really hate

2010-11-16T20:57:00.000-08:00

"If I Die Young" by The Band Perry. Favorite line: A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar. They're worth so much more after I'm a goner.

"Don't Take the Girl" by Tim McGraw. Quite possibly the whiniest song ever performed.

"Stuck Like Glue" by Sugarland. Why does she rap?

Too much at once!

2010-11-03T04:30:00.000-07:00

At Camille's four month appointment the doctor told us that we should be moving her to her crib and we should stop swaddling her. Since she was tiny, our experience has been that if she is swaddled, she will sleep longer. Part of this was probably that they told us to do it in the hospital, Camille is a preemie, and we felt that developmentally, she needed the comfort of the tight swaddle to sleep. Now, at 12.5 pounds and four months, we are supposed to stop the swaddle so she can comfortably and safely move at night.

We knew that changing her routine so drastically on the night she had her shots was a bad idea, so Bill and I put Camille to bed in her normal routine (swaddle and bassinet) and figured we'd start with the crib tomorrow, get her used to that and then remove the swaddle.

Unfortunately Camille was super fussy last night, woke up early (ironically, she was out of her swaddle for the first time ever) and fussed during her late night feeding. I made a judgement call and put her in a Halo sleepsack but feared that she would be too cold. We swapped it for a long-sleeved, fleece sleep blanket and I just put her down so I could pump.

The temperature thing is a problem because Bill and I sleep much better when cool. I'm afraid without the swaddle she is going to be too cold in just a sleep sack (Halo's are sleeveless). When we move her out of the crib we can close the heat vent in our room and that might help.

Not sure why I started this blog so early in the morning. Wish us luck on the sleep-front. Well, mainly me since I'm the one who suffers if she doesn't sleep well.

'Tis the season!

2010-11-02T07:46:00.000-07:00

I've commented before about how stores start putting out Christmas decorations as soon as the month ends in "ber" but once Halloween has passed, nothing is holding stores back from displaying fake trees, ornaments and ads that whip kiddos into a frenzy over the next "it" toy. While I still think it is a little premature to start shopping for holiday decorations, it is not to early to start preparing your holiday cards. Bill and I sent out Christmas cards once with Polly and once with Teddy. Now that we have our little darling, Holiday cards are a must! I love hanging cards on our front door, especially the photo cards, and I want my baby's adorable face to be smiling at all our friends and family this holiday season.

I read about this fabulous offer on one of the blogs I read and am super excited to participate as well. First, because I love free things, and second because I really love Shutterfly. I've ordered photobooks from Shutterfly before and am so happy with them. As a non-scrapbooker, this site is really for me. It is easy to use, produces beautiful results, and takes all the annoying scrapbookiness out of making memory books for Camille. Yay!

Now that we have a baby, we're finding that photo gifts are such a great thing, especially for grandparents. I made photobooks for Camille's baptism for Grandma Micki, Grannie and Grandpa and it was a big hit! There are so many different ways to do it and it is so easy. Be sure to check out some of these cool designs.

While getting this post together, I enjoyed looking through their holiday card collection. (Click that link to see what I'm talking about!)

This was one of my favorites:

I like the classic design and the reference to one of my favorite carols.

For a folded card option, this design caught my eye:

I like how simple it is and non-traditional.

I'm considering using their site for gifts as well and think these calendars will make lovely gifts for family. For the family that reads my blog, try to act surprised! I love that you can print important dates into the calendars, which is helpful for remembering birthdays and other events.

When all your cards and gifts are ready for mailing, print out fun photo labels here. It is so nice to add that personal touch to a card and there are so many creative designs. This was one of my favorites:

For my blogger friends, think about taking advantage of this offer! It is an amazing deal and so easy, promoting a site I love!

So start shopping because those cards need to get in the mail!

Shades of blue

2010-11-02T06:13:00.000-07:00

Even though I have 3 months left of maternity leave, I've started thinking about when I go back and what it will mean for everyone - for me, for Bill, for Camille. I am overwhelmed with the feeling that going back to work is just...wrong. Camille is so tiny and darn it, she needs me. Of course she will be well taken care of with Bill, and what a lucky little girl to have her Daddy take care of her for 3 months. But we're still nursing and the thought of being at work when my little girl needs to eat makes my stomach ache. I'll be pumping of course, which sets up a whole new pile of anxieties. Being a working, nursing mom isn't easy for anyone, but being a teacher puts a whole other layer on top of the challenges. It is recommended that I pump twice while at work. The only way I can see to do this is to pump during my lunch and during my planning period. At the moment, these two times are scheduled right next to each other during the day so that won't work. I'm going to request that my schedule be changed to an early lunch and a late prep and hope for the best. This morning I pumped for almost 25 minutes. I have a 30 minute lunch and a 50 minute prep. I'm taking over Bill's role as team leader while he is on paternity leave because we didn't want to lose the stipend. That means I have 25 minutes during the day to do all the teacher things I need to do and be team leader. I really don't see how this is going to work in a way that doesn't leave me a ragged, stressed out mess. I was never much for staying late at work and that was before I had a beautiful baby waiting for me at home. Ugh. I need to push it out of my mind because I have 3 months left with her and I don't want to spend them worried and sick.

I know millions of moms have done this and it is fine. I know I will have lots of support from Bill. I know I'm not the first teacher mom to go back to work while nursing.

But it still sucks.

Routines

2010-09-29T08:46:00.000-07:00

Camille will be 3 months old on Friday. Every mom I know says that she can't believe how quickly the time goes by and I won't be the exception to the rule. Camille has changed so much since we brought her home in July and to look at her now you wouldn't think she is the same baby. I'm taking her in tomorrow for her echocardiogram, the first she has had since leaving the womb. I hope that this will be able to tell us right away if Camille has Marfans or not, but I imagine it will be a longer process than that. I think they have to monitor the changes in her echos over time and we may not have a diagnosis for many years. What I am planning on teaching Camille early, starting tomorrow, is that going up to OHSU for echos means a treat afterwards.

After the echo we are going to lactation for another appointment. I am 90% sure that Camille is perfect as usual - gaining weight like the little champion she is - but her eating habits have changed so much in the last couple of weeks that I really want to check to ease my mind. She seems to finish nursing much faster than ever before (15-20 minutes) and some days nurses every 3 hours (like yesterday) and others ever 4-5 hours. Mama likes consistency and routines, so this just makes me a little nervous. Also, she was gaining 10 ounces a week (average is half an ounce to an ounce a day) and I can't believe this rate is going to continue much longer. My calculations say that she should weigh over 12 pounds. Gadzooks, that's a big baby!

One thing my sweet baby has learned about her mama is that Mama needs breakfast and coffee in the morning. Camille has graciously obliged by taking a 20-30 minute nap after she nurses in the morning. I don't know how long this will last and I never know what the rest of the day will look like, but she is pretty routine with allowing me time to make breakfast and drink one cup of coffee everyday before she wakes up and needs attention. Sweet girl.

Señorita Crankypants

2010-09-26T03:01:00.000-07:00

I really believe that my little girl is a sweetheart through and through. She is cuddly and perfect and behaves like an angel in all social situations. I'm completely in love with her. But like all normal babies, she has her moments of fussiness and they tend to always fall between 7 and 11pm. I wish I could figure out what the problem is because she is so sad and sad for me, because this is the time I am the most exhausted. (You would think the exhaustion would occur at the 2am slot but oddly enough, it doesn't.) It comes on with no warning (other than we know it will happen each night, I mean she just suddenly is pissed off) and then stops just as suddenly. As soon as she stops, she falls asleep for what I consider "the night", though she is not sleeping through the entire night. I would say that she consistently falls asleep at 12:30am. I've been trying to time her feedings so that she can maximize this sleeping time, but I don't think it is working very well. Camille ate her last meal of the night last night at roughly 10pm. She fell asleep at 11:30 and is still sleeping. (So why are you up, Mindy? Well, I happen to have one of the worst stomachaches ever so I'm sipping 7Up and waiting for the Pepto to kick in, because that is what I should be doing when my infant daughter is having one of the best stretches of sleep she's ever had, thankyouverymuch. Grrr...)

Anyway, 6 weeks is supposed to be the peak of her fussiness so I'm hoping this is going to start to fade away and we can then work on longer stretches of sleep at night. That way I can get some real blogging done while my whole family happily snoozes away in the other room. Grrr...

What the hell does Einstein know?

2010-09-21T05:23:00.000-07:00

Einstein said that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Obviously Einstein was never up at night with an infant because he quickly would have changed his definition to say that insanity is trying to reason with a baby in the middle of the night. Total effing insanity.

It has to be insanity. Only an insane person would sweetly try to convince an obviously hungry baby that accepting the boob placed in her face would make her happier as she is clawing with her baby nails at the same boob with one hand while repeatedly smacking said boob with the other.

Only an insane person would keep trying because she KNOWS the baby is hungry only to have the baby clamp down on the nipple with her little gums, twist her head back and forth (with nipple securely clamped in her mouth) and then scream a muffled scream (because the nipple is still in her mouth).

Insanity must be the explanation for the person who tries to convince this baby that she will feel better if she would just eat as the baby is glaring at that person and then fills her pants up. Insanity is the only thing that makes sense for the person to then say, "Oh, you must feel better! Now you'll want to eat because I know you're hungry!"

It has to be insanity that would lead the person to take the baby to the changing table and sweetly ask the baby to "hold still" in order to avoid getting poop everywhere as the baby, hungry, writhes back and forth wishing she had the nipple back.

It could only be insanity that would lead someone to reason with the baby that now that she is clean, she surely must want to eat. As they try again, baby, instead of taking the boob gratefully rather closes her eyes and takes a little snooze.

Now the insane person takes the baby to the other room to rock her, only to have her wake up and start squawking in a rhythmic fashion every three seconds. Insanely she tries to reason with the baby by bouncing her and shushing in her ear, only to have her continue to protest. At last, the insane person desperately offers the boob one more time, only to have the baby take it happily, munch away, and then promptly fall asleep.

The insane person says, "Wouldn't that have been easier if Baby listened to me in the first place?" Reasonable, non-insane husband would offer this explanation helpfully, "Well, she's just a baby."

Shut up, you. You and your sane, reasonable comments. When you're on the receiving end of a screaming, red-faced, beautiful baby who is clawing at your boobs and beating you on the chest only to poop all over herself, requiring a diaper and pajama change, THEN I might listen to you. When you are doing this on zero sleep, night after night, only then MIGHT I be convinced that a reasonable, sane explanation for this behavior could be that she is "just a baby."

In the meantime, where's my straightjacket?

Yawn, why am I up?

2010-09-21T01:47:00.000-07:00

Considering how sleep deprived I am I think it really sucks that I am awake right now. Baby and husband and dog are all fast asleep and I am wide awake. I don't understand it! It isn't just at night, either. Sunday afternoon I took a picture of my whole family napping. Everyone in this household but me seems to be able to fall asleep whenever they want. I should be able to fall asleep as soon as I stop moving but instead I have the perfect opportunity to sleep and...here we are.

So I might as well give you all an update on Camille! She is almost 12 weeks old (gasp!) which means 6 weeks past her due date. Unreal, if you ask me! The book I am reading on sleep says that the peak of fussiness is around 6 weeks and despite what I said above, I would say that is true. Camille usually is awake in the evening but the last few days she just seems annoyed about it. It is really hard to settle her after 8pm and it usually passes around midnight. I think the only consistent thing about her sleeping is that she tends to fall asleep for the night around 12:30.

I think we could start trying to get Camille to sleep in her crib but I really don't want to. I like having her in our room because if she makes a noise (or doesn't make a noise, let's face it, I'm paranoid) I can check on her fairly easy. Several friends have said that it wasn't until they moved baby out of their room that he/she started sleeping through the night, but but but. I'm reluctant.

Camille probably weighs about 10 1/2 pounds based on her growth rate. She can stretch some of her feedings to 5 hours but there seems to be no rhyme or reason as to why sometimes she eats after 3 and others she goes to 5. Most of the time it is 4 hours. Her little legs have rolls and dimples on them and every time I change her diaper I just giggle with delight because it is the cutest thing!

Baby Girl is charming the pants off everyone she sees with smiles and coos. This new behavior is so delightful and is becoming more frequent. Today Grannie and Grampa came over to watch Camille while I went to the doctor. Camille turned on the charm as soon as Grannie picked her up and my mom said to me later that even if she'd cried the whole rest of the time, after that first smile and coo she could pretty much have anything she wanted. Yup, I think we're all in trouble!

She is also awake a little more and showing interest in what she sees. She is especially fascinated by lights and often stares at the window or overhead light with amazement. Sometimes the light even calms her down at a particularly fussy moment. Odd.

I'm trying to put the books away and just go with the flow as a parent but I'm sure you can figure out how that is going. I want to everything just perfect and as everyone else seems to understand, that just doesn't work with babies. I'm sure my daughter will always be my greatest teacher, so I need to quit fighting it and just listen to her. Old habits are hard to break, I guess!

Nap Watch 2010

2010-09-10T09:12:00.000-07:00

Since Camille is officially 4 weeks past her due date, and my maternity leave has officially started, I feel we should start making an attempt at some routine/normalcy with her sleep schedule. I'm fully aware that she still carves her own path, writes her own book, paves her own way, blah blah blah, but my Type A that I didn't realize was so ridiculously strong is taking over, and we must have order, people!

Ha, ha. I crack myself up. My basic desires for Camille's sleep life at this point are twofold. First, I want to have a consistent bedtime routine that starts at basically the same time each night. I'm not willing to bathe her every day because she doesn't need it and I don't think it would help her with consistency at this point, but eventually I would like that to be part of the routine. So I'd like to start between 6 and 8pm and include a bath (every other day or so), a book, nursing, songs, and then bed. Camille will likely be awake for awhile after our routine, because that seems to be her fussy time right now, but I still want the routine in place. The problem with this newfangled plan is that Bill and I worked out a system wherein I go to bed between 7 and 9pm and sleep till he goes to bed at 11. Another problem is that Camille still sleeps in our room and if I'm in there, it defeats the purpose of me going to bed for a few hours. Tricky, yet I would say all cards point to me not going to bed for those few hours.

Next in my desire to control that which cannot be controlled, is to monitor her daytime sleep. I think this would make life easier when she starts becoming alert enough to have naps, rather than just sleeping all day. I'm just writing down when she sleeps and when she wakes up to see if there are any patterns.

I consider this more of a fact finding mission at this point. As if I needed more reasons to stare at my beautiful baby all day!

Funny story

2010-08-24T16:52:00.000-07:00

A nurse from Clackamas County Health came by to check on us today. Whenever a baby spends time in the NICU they give the agency your info and since it is a free service, I figured there was no harm in getting advice from one more place. She weighed Camille at the end of the visit. Since they weigh babies nekkid, I took Camille's diaper off and wrapped her in a towel in case she leaked.

Camille weighs 8 pounds, 1.5 ounces! We were thrilled since that means she's gained 6 ounces in 4 days despite losing one bottle from her schedule. After we were done cheering, Camille completely emptied herself (number 2, of course) all over the towel and my shirt.

We didn't bother to reweigh.

How old is Camille?

2010-08-23T09:41:00.000-07:00

That's hard to say. Camille was born July 1, 2010. Simple math tells you that Camille is 7 weeks, 4 days. Ah! It is not that simple though! Camille was born at 33 weeks, 6 days gestation. A term pregnancy is 40 weeks gestation so Camille's due date was determined to be August 13th. That means that she was born 6 weeks premature. For the next year, Camille will have both her chronological age (based on her birthday) and her adjusted age (based on her due date). Chronological age is used to calculate things like vaccination schedule and her adjusted age is for developmental milestones and weight. She may be 7 weeks old, but she looks like a newborn since she is only 7 1/2 pounds. Camille will have her first set of shots at her 2 month appointment (chronological age) which will be around September 1st. Her chronological age will be 8 1/2 weeks. Her adjusted age will be 2 1/2 weeks. So basically you just subtract 6 weeks (how many weeks early she was) from her actual age and you have her adjusted age. Her adjusted age is important. When term babies reach developmental milestones like holding up their heads, grasping toys, etc., they usually do so at around a certain time. We will use her adjusted age to determine if she is on track rather than her chronological age.

So, Camille is 7 1/2 weeks old (chronologically) and her adjusted age is 1 1/2 weeks. At this point, term babies are considering things like discovering their hands (2-3 months), smiling (1-3 months) and cooing (2-4 months). Camille will not likely reach those milestones for another month or so due to her adjusted age.

HOWEVER, Camille is a rockstar and can develop at any rate she darn well pleases. I've definitely seen some smiles already!

After the first year she will likely be caught up and the adjusted age will no longer be relevant.

The Honeymoon is Over

2010-08-22T22:13:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I haven't posted in almost 3 weeks. Feels like a lifetime when I think about how much Camille and her parents have changed. She is truly an outstanding baby and we're just loving her! I think things are going to change a bit this week and the bliss we've been experiencing may soon be shifting a bit. Bill goes back to work tomorrow for one day (leadership training) and then next Monday he is back for good. We have worked out this fabulous system that allows for both of us to get at least 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep each but there is no way it will work with Bill back at work. He can't teach 150 middle schoolers on 3 hours of sleep so we have to adjust like most normal parents.

As we prepare to make this switch, Camille seems to sense that things are changing or something, because I'm sensing she is shifting as well. Up until this point, Camille sleeps between feedings pretty exclusively, resulting in about 8 2-3 hour naps per day. Camille also sleeps pretty well in her bassinet for 3-4 of these naps. Now a delightful 7 week old baby, she is staying awake for longer stretches and has decided (just today) that the bassinet is not a lovely place to take her naps. Uh oh. Much more enjoyable place to sleep is on Daddy's chest or in Mommy's arms. Uhhh oh. Her adjusted age is 1 week and developmentally, kiddos aren't ready to be sleep trained until at least 4 months old. Uhhhh ohhhh. Stay tuned.

The positive side of this change in Camille is that she is awake more. As if she could get any cuter, I do believe that baby got cuter! Such a doll as she looks around with those enormous eyes! She is starting to focus a little on things (faces, toys, lights) and it is so fun to watch her work it out in her mind. I noticed her focusing on the TV this afternoon which freaked me out a bit so we'll have to start leaving the room when she wakes up and the TV is on.

She outgrew her first pair of pants this week and has 2 pairs of jammies that are on their last couple of wearings. At lactation on Friday, Camille weighed 7 pounds, 11.5 ounces. Officially 3 pounds heavier since birth! We cut a bottle out of her schedule (she was eating 4 bottles a day) in the hope that she will nurse more to compensate. We go back to lactation on Thursday and the answer will be in her weight gain.

I'm working on a post about why I hate the mall and hope to post it sometime this week. That will be my goal. Today my goal was to take a shower. (I didn't get a chance yesterday.) I accomplished that so we'll see about the post!

Sleep deprived line of questioning

2010-08-03T04:05:00.000-07:00

Questions to myself at 3:15am:

1. Why is the Goodnight Moon book out?
2. Did Bill read Camille Goodnight Moon last night?
3. When would he have read it to her?
4. Was it out for the midnight feeding? (no)
5. How did the nipple shield (don't ask) get on top of the book?
6. Did Bill come read her the book and move the nipple shield?
7. When would he have come in here?
8. Would I have noticed Bill take Camille out of her bassinet right by our bed and bring her in here?
9. Did Bill take Camille out of her bassinet, come into her room, grab the book, read the story, pick up the nipple shield from the midnight feeding, put it on top of the book, bring Camille back to bed and return to bed himself all without me noticing?
10. Am I sleep-reading stories to my child?

Wait a minute...Two babies???

2010-07-31T04:16:00.000-07:00

The whole family trooped up the hill today for an appointment with the lactation specialist. I'm sure all the doctors that cared for me and Camille did an excellent job and earned their paychecks (stay tuned for a future post on THAT) but I think the lactation specialists have been the most helpful part of this whole experience. Of course their job is to help with all things breastfeeding, but they've also given great advice on the health and development of our preemie. Today, after finding out that Camille weighs 6 lbs 5 oz, up 4 ounces since Tuesday (that's hella awesome for those of you that don't follow weight gain of preemie infants transitioning from bottle to breast), we worked on technique with a sort of hungry baby. We were an hour early on her schedule so she humored us, but was much happier snuggling with Daddy afterwards. (Imagine life about 2 hours after Thanksgiving dinner. Yeah, you'll eat the pie, because it is there, but unbuckling your pants and lying on the couch is a little more appealing.)

We were talking about pumping and how to make it easier. Since I have to pump every three hours, basically after every feeding, I essentially have 2 babies. My beautiful, sweet Camille is baby number one and my trusty, hospital rental pump is baby number two. Both babies require separate techniques. Her suggestion regarding my pump baby was to make a special bra so that I can pump hands free. My good friend suggested this to me a couple of weeks ago (thanks Melissa!) but I needed to hear the suggestion again after been knee deep in this to understand how helpful it is. Basically, I just cut holes into an old bra and now I can pump and blog at the same time! (Guess what I'm doing now!) Genius.

I'm entering the part of the day that brings me huge relief. It isn't the best part of the day, nor my favorite, those moments always include Camille. Right now I'm pumping for the last time of the day. When I'm done, I will go to sleep and I get a break until 9am. This is really the only time I sleep. Bill will wake up for Camille's 6am feeding and wheel her bassinet out of the room. That is why I can sleep. This child grunts, groans and stretches more than any creature I've ever encountered! It is very hard to sleep to since my new, paranoid mama ears catch everything. So 4:30 - 9am means actual sleep. Goodnight!

More bloggin' fun

2010-07-31T03:57:00.001-07:00

If you would like to follow Camille's blog and didn't get an invite from me, please send me your email address and I will pass it along!

Diapering 101

2010-07-23T19:35:00.001-07:00

New parents may want to take note of this. I wish someone had warned me!

Note: This applies to newborns. It may apply to older children but my experience is only with newborns.

When you are changing an infant you basically follow the following steps:

1. Remove old diaper.
2. Clean baby's bum.
3. Put on clean diaper.

Unfortunately, several steps have been omitted, so I shall add them to the list.

1. Remove baby's adorable outfit. This involves finding all the snaps which are often hidden on ridiculously cute outfits. If you started with a sleeping baby, she will likely be stirring at this point. Moving quickly will help, but is rather pointless because baby will soon be what you call a "Wiggle Monster."
2. Place new diaper underneath old diaper. This is an important step the nurse showed us in the hospital. Reason why will become obvious later.
3. Have wipes at the ready. We use gauze pads from the hospital for wet bums and wipes for messy bums. Saves baby's skin a little. Have both wipes ready because until completing step #4, you don't know which one you will need.
4. Remove old diaper. You should now know which type of wipe to use. It is important to have followed step #2 because as you are removing old diaper, baby will likely wiggle and if messy bum touches changing pad, you have to change it.
5. Clean baby's bum. At this point, baby will be wiggling around which makes this one of the hardest steps. Most people will advise you to put both baby's feet in one hand and lift slightly to provide access to bum. I would concur that this is indeed the easiest way to clean bum, but I would like to add a very strong warning to everyone here. Hopefully you followed step #2 for this part. When you collect baby's feet and lift up you are essentially creating a cannon. Be careful where you point baby's bum because if baby wasn't quite done filling her diaper, the slight lift puts pressure on tummy and may cause baby to fire off a poop missile. If you're lucky, the ammo will land on the clean diaper. If you are unlucky, which come on kids, this is me we're talking about, the weapon will shoot out and land on the wall, changing pad, diaper pail and your arm and completely miss the clean diaper underneath.
5a. If necessary, use clean diaper underneath to defend against poop missile.
5b. Stop laughing.
5c. If necessary, take another clean diaper and place under now soiled diaper.
5d. Remove soiled diaper. Ignore poop on wall and changing pad at this point because what choice do you have?
5e. Repeat step 5 (clean baby's bum) and pray baby is out of ammo.
6. Put on clean diaper. Baby is now wiggling like a worm who just finished a double espresso, so this becomes the most challenging step. Not only do you have to continue hanging on to baby, you also have to adjust diaper and make sure to avoid any stray poop from the poop missile. Baby will not accommodate you by relaxing legs or holding still. Diapers are relatively easy to put on, provided baby is asleep, you have positioned it perfectly, and you don't have poop on hands.
7. Once baby is diapered, use wipe to remove poop from arm and use hand sanitizer.
8. If changing station is too covered in poop, pick up baby, put baby in bassinet for safe keeping, remove soiled linens from changing station and replace with clean. Come back to the wall when baby is asleep.
9. Wash hands.
10. Retrieve baby from bassinet and return to clean changing station.
11. Choose another ridiculously cute outfit. Baby is wiggling and probably squawking by now, so the cuteness of the outfit should be determined by the level of irritation of the baby. The cuter the outfit, the more complicated it will be to put on. The more annoyed the baby, the more wiggly the baby. Not sure the math problem there, but you should take all factors into consideration.
12. Dress baby. You can make fish faces and clicking noises. You can coo at baby. You can nuzzle baby's round and adorable tummy. None of this will calm baby but it will make you feel better.
13. Pick up baby in one arm and attempt to prepare a blanket for swaddling with one hand. Preparing a blanket means laying it flat and folding one corner down.
14. Swaddle baby. Baby might calm down at this point.
15. Pick up swaddled, clean, ridiculously cute baby and snuggle. Laugh when baby fills her pants while cuddling and remember that baby grows up too fast, and soon you will miss these moments.

Oh yeah, don't forget poop on the wall.

Family Accomplishments, by the Numbers

2010-07-23T18:48:00.000-07:00

*As of noon today:

Papa Burel:

*jogged with Master Teddy

*picked up dog poop

*washed dishes

*showered

*put Round Up on weeds in front

Master Teddy:

*jogged with Daddy

*took a nap

*tried to lick baby

*got told no and had to go outside

*took another nap

Baby Burel:

*nursed like a big girl

*pooped like a big girl

*napped like a big girl

*did about 37 extremely cute things, but who is counting

Mama Burel:

*ate a waffle

*put contacts in

*Not that anyone is keeping track

Yeah, what day is it again?

2010-07-10T20:14:00.000-07:00

I feel like I ask this question at least 10 times a day. I know exactly what the date is because I have to write it on all of Camille's bottles but I have no idea what day of the week it is - everything is just running together. Bill and I are going up to the hospital for most of the day. Our goal is to be with Camille for as many of her feedings as our bodies can take. Camille eats every 3 hours, so we try to get up to OHSU by 8:30am so we can do her 9am feeding. When we arrive, we change her diaper, check her temperature, switch her blood oxygen probe from one foot to another, unplug her from her monitors and feed her. If I breastfeed, that means we have to weigh her first. After she eats, we reweigh her and determine if she needs more in a bottle or not. Then we get her rewrapped, plugged in and ready for sleep. The whole process takes about an hour. When we finish, I have to go pump, then we try to figure out what to do for an hour and a half when it all starts again.

We've been doing her 9am, 12pm, and 3pm feedings, which means we're at the hospital from 8:30 - 4:30pm. My parents have been coming in daily and giving Camille her 9pm feeding. We're happy she has family for 4 out of 8 feedings, but of course we want to be there more. It sounds like we may need to stay home a little more because we think our little girl may be coming home soon and our house is far from ready. Camille is eating most of her feedings that her family is here for. The nighttime feedings have been a little less.

Today was a really long day because we also attended a parenting class from 3:30-5:30. If you weren't already stressed about being a parent to a preemie, be sure to take the parenting class. It is basically a breakdown of all the things that could go wrong if you do something stupid, like take the advice from the wrong book. I was a little deflated afterwards, because I like to do things exactly right, and instead I feel like we're getting mixed messages about what is right. Example: Don't use talcum powder of any kind. I knew this one, but another mama pointed out that in a going home packaged she received from the Mother Baby Unit (MBU) there is a bottle of baby powder. Another example: Swaddle baby so she has access to her hands. Bill and I have been swaddling Camille with her arms at her sides. Don't swaddle baby at bedtime. The nurses, and so also Bill and I, have been swaddling her to sleep. It is just frustrating and not only does everyone consider themselves an expert, all the actual experts disagree about everything.

In addition to the stress of the class, the stress of the environment where Camille is, and the stress of this whole situation, we had a pretty scary incident this afternoon while feeding Camille. We were smushed into our corner with screens up for privacy when we her this crash and thump and the screens moved. Startled the heck out of us and got immediately scary when we realized there was a woman lying on the floor outside our area. The poor woman had fainted and briefly blacked out. The nurses called a code to get rapid response up to her. She came to relatively quickly and was talking, but she was laying on the floor and we could see her head right below the screens. The adults were pretty stressed out so after the woman was tended to and taken to the ER, we calmed down and switched Camille to a bottle. I believe the woman will be just fine since she was talking on her way out the door. Bill and I agreed that we really need to get our baby home because the environment can't be good for her. (Sound familiar?)

So there you have it! Rest assured Camille is making excellent progress and is well on her way to coming home with us. Bill and I can't wait to be exhausted because of Baby Girl's needs at home and not because of daily trips to the hospital.

Before and After

2010-07-07T07:35:00.000-07:00

It is really weird to be online, peruse this blog and Facebook, and reread things that I wrote just 5 days ago. What a lifetime ago that was! The last post, the one where I describe the lowpoint in the hospital, is especially funny to me now, knowing what I know. I'd like to share the story of the last few days because I know many are curious, and I suppose I will want to remember some of the details some day, but I think it is important to point out that this part of the story is merely a blip. A new life began 5 days ago, and that story, well, that's the page turner.

I checked into the hospital on June 23rd after some bleeding. Bill and I weren't terribly concerned because the bleeding was very light and we've done this before. I was 32 weeks 5 days pregnant and the docs really wanted to observe me. I spent Wednesday night in the hospital and was shocked when they recommended I stay another night. Friday morning the docs had all but discharged me. Bill was on his way to the hospital, I was hanging out waiting when they put the fetal monitor on for one last check before discharge. I started bleeding as she was hooking it up. The plan changed and we learned I'd now be in the hospital at least a week for observation. Strict bedrest (bathroom breaks only) was also prescribed, so Bill and I settled in for the wait.

Docs weren't kidding about strict. I was not allowed to shower, not allowed to leave the room, even in a wheelchair. Shower restrictions lifted Saturday and docs said Monday that I could take a wheelchair ride as long as I didn't leave the unit I was staying in. Monday afternoon Bill stepped outside to get the wheelchair and I had another small bleed. At this point I'd had 3 bleeds and we realized I would be in the hospital until the baby arrived. They also decided to deliver her via cesarean at 37 weeks, which meant the wait was three weeks. Wednesday morning they delivered the news and late Wednesday night, early Thursday morning was when I had my small breakdown.

And 20 minutes after I posted that post, I started bleeding again. 2 AM, I went down to Labor and Delivery for monitoring. It was explained to me that the bleeding was definitely from the placenta previa and after 4 bleeds, the gambling was getting too risky. Every time I bled I was at a greater risk of bleeding again and a greater risk for the next bleed being a huge blood loss that could jeopardize our health. Their plan was to deliver the baby that same day. For some reason I didn't panic. Didn't get upset. I just waited for a reasonable hour to call Bill and tell him to get Teddy ready for Summer Camp with our dear friends. When he arrived, we calmly discussed the plan and chose the baby's name. We'd been tossing two names around but I needed the name chosen and agreed upon before we went into surgery. We also met with pediatricians to discuss the plan for the baby's arrival and the likely scenario she would be in after delivery.

At about 3:15 they started prepping me for surgery. My epidural was placed and as they were moving me into a lying down position on the gurney, I had a pretty significant bleed. Things moved pretty quick after that.

Camille Faith Burel was born on July 1, at 3:44 PM. Bill and I heard a cry and he checked over the barrier to see her. She was taken into the adjoining room to be assessed for what she needed. My procedure was finished and on my way down to the cardiac ICU for recovery, they swung my bed by Camille so I could see her.

In the 3 minutes I got to see her, I could already tell that this child is a knock out. Gorgeous black hair, perfect features. I said goodnight and headed off for my stay in the ICU. Camille was taken to the NICU. The assessment of her breathing determined that she would need a C-Pap machine, which is the same machine sleep apnea patients use. Daddy spent most of his time with her so he could tell me exactly what was going on with her.

Camille was given three enormous jobs before she is allowed to come home with us. The first is to breathe on her own which Camille checked off her list overnight When Bill arrived early Friday morning, Camille was off the C-Pap machine and had skipped the oxygen up the nose step entirely. Her next job is to maintain her body temperature. Camille needs to get a little fat on her body before she is able to work on this step. The last step is the one she is working on now. Camille must be able to eat her full, prescribed meal consistently. She started eating 5 mLs on Sunday and has worked up to 25 mLs today. In order to go home, she must consistently finish 35 mLs at every meal without help of the gavage, which is basically a feeding tube.

I stayed in the cardiac ICU for 3 nights - little longer than we anticipated. My heart did exactly it's job recovering from surgery and is showing no negative affects of pregnancy nor delivery. I did lose quite a bit of blood in the surgery which has made recovery a slow process. On Friday, Camille's second day of life, they were ready to get me out of ICU. I turned on as much charm as possible when you haven't showered in 3 days and just gave birth and my legitimate tears bought me a visit to Camille...and another night in the ICU when I fainted. That poor nurse! A spike in heart rate Saturday morning earned me another night in ICU and I was finally able to leave Sunday morning.

Several times a day, when things are quiet, I stop suddenly and think, "What happened?" I loved being pregnant and sometimes I look down at my belly and for a moment that lasts only a heartbeat, I wistfully remember and miss being pregnant. Almost immediately though I get a picture in my mind of Camille and my heart leaps and screams, "She's here! She's here!" And she is perfect. And how she got here is just one page in her story. Stay tuned for that, because it will be the best story you ever read.

Us versus them

2010-07-01T00:59:00.000-07:00

Warning: this post was written on an iTouch. I don't have the patience nor the skill to fix typos.

I am surprised it came this soon but I believe this may be the lowpoint. Writing this post is keeping me from crying which is the only reason I writing it a la hunt and peck on a device the size of a cAlculator. The docs told me yesterday, after they said I am here till the baby comes, that they would pit me on do not disturb at night which means no vitals checks from 10 to 6. I am awake because the nurse just left after checking my vitals. I asked why and she said the docs wanted to. Goody for them. I hVe not slept more than 2-3 hours at a stretch since I arrived and never once have my vitals or the baby's changed even a little. They are taking a healthy woman, in no pain, and put her in a pressure cooker, all under the banner of "we need to be safe" and I fear that my compliance and morale are soon going to be in jeopardy. I plan to tell them this tomorrow.

My healthy environment has all but disappeared and I don't see how increasing my stress, taking away sleep, taking away comfort, depriving me of fresh air and forcing everyone I care about to watch it all helplessly is going to keep me safe for another 3 weeks. I'll see if they can explain that in the morning.

Highs and Lows

2010-06-28T15:38:00.000-07:00

Since the last time I posted, Bill and I have been bombarded with highs and lows. I thought I would outline them for you all here. Drumroll please.

High #1: End of school. The end of the year couldn't come fast enough for me this year and I think we all know why. The excitement of the arrival of our little girl and knowing that I won't return to school till the end of January because I'll be taking care of her gave me an intense feeling of "senioritis". So many things to do this summer and the hope that the weather would turn somewhat summery kept the anticipation going.

Low #1: End of school. The end of school this year unfortunately meant the governor announcing a need for a 9% budget reduction across the board. Here we go again. This time my job wasn't on the line, but we were faced with cutting days and salaries and possibly colleagues. Our district cut 3 days off the end of this year and 5 days off the calendar next year. This added to the budget stress for us since I'm taking some time unpaid for maternity leave. Plus kids were really sad to have some of their favorite end-of-the-year activities cut, like a field trip to Oaks Park and the 8th Grade Celebration.

High #2: Sunriver. Bill and I and some good friends trooped off to Sunriver for 3 days to rest up, kick off summer, and get in one more trip before the baby comes. We were blessed with some great weather and good times, including a trip to the pool (yea, exercise) and some shopping downtown Bend (yea, yummy lunch!)

Low #2: The morning of our last day in Sunriver I woke up to discover that had started spotting. We jumped in the car and raced home, called the doctor, and I checked into OHSU for 2 nights. I really thought I was leaving Friday morning, but the bleeding started again and they told me to get comfy for the next week. I've been up here with no more incidences and am doing my best to be compliant and follow the rules. It is not hard to follow the rules when you're in the hospital because, seriously, what are you going to do? I'm on strict bedrest, only allowed to use the bathroom.

High #3: Our placenta. Bill was talking to his cousin on the phone and I overheard him refer to "our placenta". It reminded me that we are in this together. It isn't my body causing this problem, or Baby Girl's, it is just a little bump on the road to having our family complete. I was surprised at how much that reference meant to me. We all have to do our parts right now, including Baby Girl. Her job is to continue being perfect. Every time she is on the monitor they comment about how great she is and how easy to track. She is showing no signs of wanting to come early. I'm sure her cooperation in the womb is an indicator of how lovely she'll be when she is finally here!

High #4: First shower. I didn't shower on Wednesday because we left Sunriver so quickly. By the time they let me shower it was Saturday. Yuck. That was the best shower, though. I've had another since but it wasn't nearly as spectacular as the one after four days. The CNA came in afterwards to check my vitals and we were talking about how great a shower is after you can't have one. She pointed out that she remembered not getting to shower when she was in the war and water and electricity was scarce. They also had to gather enough water in order to shower which made it really challenging. That was a good reminder that maybe I don't have it so bad.

Low #3: Missed shower. My baby shower had to be cancelled because I was in the hospital which was really disappointing. My sister came into town for it and we had friends and family traveling in for the event. The host and hostess are two of the most gracious people I know and took care of everything. And really, what are you going to do? But I was still bummed to missed another opportunity to welcome Baby Burel.

High #5: Missing the baby shower meant mini-showers in the hospital. I may have been here but at least I got to see my sister and I've had visitors and tons of love and more than my share of the cookies that were for the shower. Cookies make everything better.

Not sure if it is a high or a low so I'm going to call it a "ho". Bill and I toured the neonatal ICU today. Staff wanted us to see how it worked in case the baby has to spend some time there. If she has to be born early, she would need to be there for awhile but there is also a chance that she'll have to be there if I need to be in ICU after her delivery. Either way, touring that part of the hospital was emotional for me and huge incentive to follow the rules and do exactly what they say. Baby Girl is 33 1/2 weeks, which is far enough along that she should do fine if she has to arrive early, but I'd really like her to hang out at least a few more weeks.

So there you have it. The best case scenario right now is extreme boredom. If there are no more "episodes" I should be able to go home the end of the week. If there is any more bleeding, I'm likely here for the duration. We're definitely hoping for boredom!

28 Weeks!

2010-05-23T17:49:00.000-07:00

I think we both look really weary in this picture.

Maybe because we are anticipating severe sleep deprivation in only 12 weeks!

23 1/2 weeks

2010-04-21T19:44:00.001-07:00

If anyone has any suggestions for how you are supposed to stand when

posing for pregnancy pictures, please let me know.

I wanted to wear the same outfit and stand in the same spot

as my last photo to really see the progress,

but I thought outside would be prettier.

A Breakfast Story

2010-04-17T19:34:00.000-07:00

Breakfast is tricky business at our place. Bill has an egg intolerance and gets severe stomach aches after he eats them. But he loves eggs so this is sad. I don't care for eggs unless they are hard boiled, though I'll eat them fried with the yolks broken on untoasted bread. Very few breakfast dishes are eggless and if they are, they are either meat-laden (yay for Bill, boo for me) or sweet sweet and covered in syrup and butter. So at our house, we eat a lot of cereal and toast.

But this morning I had a hankering for pancakes. I'd gotten up early and had some tea and kept arguing with myself about whether I should make some. Bill make eggless French toast last weekend, so it seemed fair that I make some pancakes and bacon. Decision made, I started cooking.

Mishap #1: We only had 3 strips of bacon. Everyone knows that is hardly a sharing amount, and Bill told me I could have them. We are a sharing family, though, so I figured Bill could have 2 strips and I'd have one, so I started cooking the bacon.

Mishap #2: Pancake mix must be 2 years old with no visible expiration date on package. Not too comfortable with that, so I found a recipe online and trudged on. Bacon is about a third of the way cooked.

Mishap #3: Recipe called for 8 servings which is a lot of pancakes. Luckily the website I get my recipes from has a feature where you can reset the servings and it recalculates the recipe.

Mishap #4: Halfway through preparing the batter I realized that by recalculating the recipe, it now called for half an egg. Being a college educated individual, I decided to beat the egg and spoon out half (2 tablespoons) into the batter. Problem is, beaten egg doesn't really spoon since it oozes off the spoon after you dip it in, making the measurement highly inaccurate. But I guesstimated and moved on.

Mishap #5: Being a college educated individual, I am able to read. Being a pregnant individual, processing is a little iffy. Recalculated recipe called for 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons milk. I carefully measured one cup plus 2 tablespoons milk into the batter. Batter is now soup.

Update on the bacon: 2 slices are slightly over crisp, but all are removed from pan and draining on paper towels.

Update on pancake batter: Even a college educated individual could figure out to double the other ingredients to repair the "pancake soup" but the pregnant individual could see no real purpose in going to the trouble so poured soup down the drain and offered Bill bacon and toast.

Update on Bill: Bill was watching TV in the other room and helpfully asked how I was doing throughout the whole process. Upon hearing the batter was now in the drain he offered to take me out to breakfast. Absolutely the right move, Babe. Frugal, college educated, pregnant individual could have been easily pushed to go out to eat but convinced self and totally agreeable Bill that bacon and toast were fine. Two pieces of toast went into the toaster for Bill.

Mishap #6: I'd carefully poured the bacon grease out of the cast iron skillet which was still extremely hot. No sense wasting a perfectly hot skillet, so I decided to fry an egg to accompany my toast and bacon.

Update on bacon: My slice of bacon had now been reduced to half a slice of bacon since I had been nibbling throughout the pancake charade.

I-saw-this-coming-and-went-ahead-anyway-Event #1: The cast iron skillet was VERY hot still and had a nice coating of bacon grease still in it. I never fry my eggs in this pan. I always fry my eggs in a non-stick egg pan. I never fry my eggs in bacon grease. I always fry my eggs with a drop of olive oil. Yet for some reason I did it differently. Even though I thought to myself, "Self. You should pull out the other pan. If you use that pan you're going to ruin the eggs." EVEN then, I put a touch of butter in the skillet and proceeded to crack the eggs.

Mishap #7: Duh. The pan was too hot and too large. The eggs popped and screamed and spread out to super-thin puddles of brown whites with bright yellow balls of yolk hanging on for dear life. I broke the yolks and for some reason, even though I could see this wasn't going to work, sprinkled pepper on top. I was in some sort of hazy denial.

Update on Bill: By this time, I'd removed Bill's toast and buttered it and delivered it with two strips of bacon.

Update on bacon: I think I had about a quarter of a strip of bacon left at this point.

I-saw-this-coming-and-went-ahead-anyway-Event #2: With the eggs in a very precarious position in the pan, I may have still been able to salvage them if I hadn't make the next error. I used the plastic spatula to turn the eggs. It is heat resistant, so that wasn't the problem. But the extreme heat of the pan and the insufficient grease to accommodate the eggs and the surface area the eggs now covered really required my metal spatula. It would have given me the ability to scrape underneath the eggs and still have the rigidity to actually get under them. But, I used the plastic one. And proceeded to smear the eggs all over the pan.

Update on the eggs: Eggs now look like scrambled yolks mixed with brown, crispy whites. Half went into a cup to cool off for Master Teddy, rest when into the garbage.

Update on bacon: Completely gone. Teddy got the last bite.

Update on my breakfast: After cleaning the whole mess up, I fixed myself a bowl of cereal.

Reminder

2010-04-12T19:39:00.000-07:00

Today during class one of my students raised his hand and asked, "Mrs. Burel, was your baby a mistake?"

Oh right. THAT's why people wince when I mention I teach middle school.

Ba Bum, in Miniature

2010-04-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

Baby Girl Burel and Mom both had echocardiograms today. It was a very long day for all of us up at OHSU with a lovely break in the middle for some lunch with good friends from Texas. Bill and I were prepared for a very long day and OHSU did not disappoint. Baby Girl's echo was the last thing at 3:30pm and the grueling day was so worth it when the doctor finally came in at 5pm and spent the next half hour saying, "Looks nice." "Looks good." "Looks perfect." My three new favorite phrases!

I've had 27 thousand echos and I really have no idea what I'm looking at most of the time. I think I could pick out the aortic root and valve since that has been the main focus of everyone's attention each time. During Baby Girl's echo, the doctor pointed out the aortic valve, the mitral valve, the tricuspid valve and the pulmonary valve. Like most of what they show us, Bill and I just take their word for it! But I could make out her entire aortic because it looks exactly like a candy cane. Towards the end of the echo the doctor listened to the heartbeat while watching the blood flow through each individual valve. I found myself closing my eyes just listening to her heartbeat and started getting emotional with something other than fear for the first time. When Baby Girl sleeps right now, she can hear the sound of my heartbeat, and I wonder if she knows just how much we love her? I know that while listening to her heart's steady rhythm, I was overcome with love and could imagine nothing more wonderful than falling asleep to that sound.

30 Pictures Later...

2010-03-27T22:24:00.000-07:00

I finally settled on these shots. I know I need to photograph my changing self because it will mean a lot to me later, but I've never taken very good pictures. Trying to take a good shot while hiding my robot wires (see previous post), avoiding a double chin, exposing the best view of the belly, and smiling without looking like a chump is challenging to say the least.

Sgt. Dorky has a Baby

2010-03-26T17:46:00.000-07:00

I went into this pregnancy knowing full well that physically I was going to change. I expected it, no I welcomed it, because those changes are all a part of the little person we get to meet in just 5 months. What I was not expecting is that over the last week I have gone from old me (slightly dorky) to now a completely dorky pregnant person in just a matter of days.

My legs started swelling early in pregnancy so my doctor decided that I should wear compression stockings since my varicose veins are pretty bad. Unfortunately those aren't knee high compression stockings but rather full panty hose compression stockings. I have to wear them all the time unless I'm at home with my feet up, sleeping, or exercising (HA!) I had to get the maternity ones since they are around $30 a pair and I want them to last the whole pregnancy. Maternity compression panty hose take about 5 minutes to put on and pull all the way up to just under my bra strap. Hot.

But they are surprisingly comfortable. My legs don't hurt anymore and since I just wear them under my clothes, no one really knows. I know I'll be singing a different tune in July when it is 95 degrees outside because I can only imagine how adorable these babies will look under shorts, but right now I'm grateful my doctor didn't order the full meal deal, which is basically a female jock strap a la compression style stockings. Yes, very grateful.

So, sporting my super sexy full-belly panty hose, Bill and I had to take an evening trip up to OHSU on Wednesday because there just wasn't anything good on TV. Sarcasm aside, we got a little nervous during an episode of extremely rapid heart rate while we were relaxing that evening. We called and checked in with the doctor who heard, "heart surgery, 20 weeks pregnant, and rapid heart rate" and then immediately invited us up the hill for a visit. My pulse slowed down significantly by the time we arrived but they ordered an EKG and decided they want me to wear a 48-hour monitor to make sure they aren't missing anything. This afternoon, on our third trip up the hill in as many days, we were introduced to the 48-hour monitor. It is nothing like what I've worn in the past and instead has 7 wires that are attached to my chest that I must wear for, you guessed it, 48 hours. No showers for that time period and I get to look like a robot with wires and suction cups sticking out of my shirt. The only way to cover them is to wear a turtleneck. Bill and I got a good case of the giggles on our way out of the hospital this afternoon because it really is as dorky as it sounds.

To top things off, I've started to develop a little pregnancy skin on my face, which looks nothing like "pregnancy-glow" and everything like my sophomore year in high school. Thank heavens for good make up, a husband who I actually believe when he continues to compliment me, and the little sweetheart who will be here soon who is so very, very worth any dorkiness I may have to endure.

The cat has exited the bag

2010-03-08T16:58:00.000-08:00

I don't think very many people read this blog who aren't friends on facebook or people I talk to on a weekly basis, but if for some reason you haven't heard, Bill and I are pregnant and due in August. To say that this is a journey that isn't even close to over is so much of an understatement it is ridiculous. I'm excited to be able to blog about this now because I have about 800 posts partially composed in my head about the details of this pregnancy , but I have to say that just getting to the point where I can publicly declare my "condition" is truly one of the most delightful moments so far.

It seems appropriate to share the details of today because it just reiterates my point that middle school kids are largely misunderstood people. Bill and I had no intention of telling the kids today. We decided that we would just let them "figure it out" but that after we told the staff, we would tell the kids the truth if they asked the question. We told staff on Friday and thought that it was only a matter of time, but I really wasn't expecting today.

After the first period of the day, a student I had last year came into my room with a shocked look on this face and said, "I know something." I wasn't worried about it so I just said, "really?" and let him work it out on his own. Bless his heart, he never could say the word "pregnant" but he was obviously surprised by the news and thrilled that he was in on the secret. Bill came in to let me know that a couple of kids had asked and the jig was up.

And the day went by, with kids shyly whispering to each other, too scared to ask me directly (bless them) but too curious to keep it to themselves. After lunch I had a kid in every class who asked, but it was always a kid who had already had Bill's class, as if they didn't quite believe him but felt allowed to say something since he had. Many kids couldn't believe that I could be pregnant because I'm not showing. One actually said, "She's too skinny." I practically hugged him for that comment. But I confirmed their suspicions and promised that I would let them know when we learn the gender, and tried to start the class.

But then the sweetness started. Girls would want hugs. Boys would beam and ask me to name the baby after them. High fives and congratulations. So much love, that the occasional dingbat question didn't really bother me. ("When the baby starts kicking, can I feel your belly?") And I was reminded that these people, who I often get eye rolls and groans about when I mention my job, are some of the nicest around. Mature enough to understand that they probably shouldn't ask but so young and sweet that they couldn't help themselves. But more importantly, excited for their teachers, which just makes me all the more excited.

Three Nasty Dog Stories

2010-02-16T17:44:00.001-08:00

1. Teddy doesn't come in from his after-work potty trip. He bounds. Jumping, lurching, anything boisterous. He is overly excited about getting his dinner and can barely (no, he can't) contain himself. Seventy five pounds of hairy enthusiasm. Today, as I was struggling to contain him and also remain upright, he started hacking. Teddy has always had a bit of a hack at times, so I calmly said, "Stop it." in a stern voice and continued to his dinner station. About an hour later, while walking into the kitchen to make my own dinner, I noticed a little bit of puppy urp by the fridge. Gag.

2. Teddy has developed some food allergies. This was only a matter of time given his breed. Some dogs develop hot spots with allergies, others have digestive issues. With Teddy, the biggest problem is his ears. Basically a yeast infection, but in dogs the inside of his ears gets coated with this dark brown scum. The only way to clean it out is the special ear cleaner and a tissue, which is Teddy's least favorite thing in the whole world. Last time, he knew I was after the right ear which is the worst one, so he sat down in front of the screen door and pressed that ear against the glass. Anyway, the gook is really gross and smells...yeasty. Ick.

3. I was leaning over Teddy to put his leash on before our walk. I usually fasten his harness around his middle then give him a hug and some pats on the sides. We left the house and as I was turning my iPod on, I noticed this disgusting booger-y blog on my t-shirt. While hugging Teddy, his eye booger had transferred to my shirt. Ewww.

Just under the wire

2010-02-09T20:44:00.000-08:00

I am embarrassed, but not really ashamed, to say that I am 2 days shy of the 2 month mark since my last post. Embarrassed, because I know my fans have been waiting with baited breath for what I am going to say next, and not really surprised because to be honest, all I have to say lately is drivel. Blogging is fun and all, but it is really hard to thing of blog-worthy posts on a regular basis. So, tonight, I give you another list. A list of drivel. Hope you enjoy it!

1. A sub threw up in class today. Not, a sub got sick, ran out of class and threw up but he actually threw up while inside the classroom. Rumor is a little fuzzy about where, whether it was in the sink (likely) or on the floor, but you get the idea. Kids had to be moved to another classroom for the rest of the day, sub went home. I think this has to be one of my biggest rational fears. I say rational because of course I am more afraid of poison darts and quicksand. Farting in public and puking in public are very near the top of my list of potential most horrifying moments. I feel so bad for this poor man because not only is he sick and got sick, he had to do it in front of a room full of eighth graders.

2. I was at the grocery store after school today and the lady in line behind me plunked down a container of ice cream and said, "Safeway has gotten cheap!" Of course I had to look at her ice cream and noticed that the box of ice cream was considerably smaller than the original containers. The clerk said that the price was lower to which the customer responded, "Oh no it isn't. It is still $2.99." The guy behind her commented that it was barely 2 servings of ice cream. At that point I left because to stay would have been weird, but I found the whole exchange very interesting. I understand that companies spend millions and millions of dollars on marketing in an effort to make more profit but it is really insulting how all that this research has determined is that the public is made up of drooling morons. Packaging has gotten smaller, while prices have remained the same. It is as if the public won't notice that they are purchasing less product if the price tag is the same. If gas prices have increased, my electric bill has gone up, and I have to pay more for my morning latte, why would my ice cream be unaffected? Why make the container smaller? I'm not that easily fooled.

3. American Idol, The Biggest Loser and the Bachelor could easily be aired in less than an hour. Can't we come up with some better shows rather than stretching out mediocre shows into an annoying 2-hour segment? Sorry if you are big fans of this show, but lately my attention span is a little too short to tolerate 2 hours of drivel. Which is probably how you are feeling reading this blog...

4. Have you ever eaten something, licked your fingers and said, "Wow. That is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten!" What did it for me this weekend was my breakfast Sunday morning. After church, Bill and I went to the grocery store (I've spent a lot of time there lately) and for breakfast bought bagels from the bakery. At home, after teaching Bill the correct way to slice a bagel without chopping your fingers off*, I toasted my sesame seed bagel, put cream cheese on it and several slices of tomato. I then put it back together, cut it in half and ate every bite, wishing I had another. The only real way to eat a bagel by the way, is to sandwich it together. If you eat it top half/bottom half, you're bound to be disappointed with one of the halves.** This was two days ago and I have been dreaming about that bagel ever since.

*Lay the bagel flat, put your hand on top of it holding your fingers up, and slice the bagel with the knife parallel to the counter.

**I worked in a bagel shop in college. That is why I have so much bagel-knowledge.

Uh oh, the Witch is watching us

2009-12-11T15:19:00.000-08:00

My student teacher is doing a wonderful job. She is about two-thirds of the way through her work sample and will be done next Thursday or Friday. She chose a lovely topic combining culture, music and travel which incorporated clips of Flamenco and El Norteño dance. She did a lot of research and planning and prepared a very nice unit. Unfortunately her supervisor told her halfway through that her post assessment needed tweaking, which really meant that she had to change the last half of her work sample and extend it by 4 days. So a little stress and a lot of support from me, she is back on track and doing a great job.

Anyhoo, for all my teacher friends out there, you know what I’m saying when I tell you that hands down, classroom management is the biggest challenge to a student teacher. This challenge carries on into the first couple of years as a new teacher and eventually works itself out, or causes the teacher to change professions.

My student teacher has definitely struggled with this but overall, I’m impressed with her management skills. The main thing that is missing is follow through. “If you continue to talk...then (fill in the blank with whatever consequence you want)”. Unfortunately, the consequence only happens once in awhile and usually in response to a pretty mild offense rather than to the main offender.

Again, all normal. The consistency comes with experience. I have a pretty rough class of seventh graders this year who challenge me some days, mainly because they refuse to shut up. Nice kids, not super motivated, and completely incapable of being quiet if you do something ridiculous like...turn to write something on the board. Or breathe.

I’ve been trying to give her a wide berth, and have only intervened in extreme cases because she is totally capable of handling things, she just has to bite the bullet and do it. Today was a really hard day, though. During 6th period, she was constantly being interrupted by chatter, kids were openly conversing with each other during lecture and shouting out constantly. I could tell she wasn’t going to finish the lesson due to the constant interruptions so I quietly got up and stood in the front of the room, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed in front of my chest. One kid started talking to a neighbor and I said his name aloud. Instant silence. Another kid said, “woah, go Mrs. Burel” to which I looked at him and said his name. Once. There were no other outbursts, comments, or chatter.

I said nothing else and didn’t move from the front of the room for the rest of class. The silence continued for the remainder of the lesson.

Somehow my demeanor and tone were scary enough to stop all goofiness.

Cool.

Reader's Block

2009-12-01T20:21:00.000-08:00

I think God is trying to tell me something.

You may remember that a couple of weeks ago I received a Borders gift card in the mail for $25 for filling out a textbook survey. This morning I received a gift card for Barnes and Noble from a good friend and I also got an email from audible.com that my next credit is available. One credit basically gets you one audiobook download. Yesterday I got an email from the library letting me know that the books I had on hold are waiting for me.

I haven't read a book since June. I started listening to books on tape over the summer on a couple of long car rides and now it is December, and I haven't read an actual book in half a year! And I'm part of a book club! Pretty sad. I was really excited about Harry Potter on tape but I haven't listed to that in a couple of days. Writers can get Writer's Block but what do you call it when you just can seem to start reading again?

Happy Birthday

2009-11-30T08:42:00.000-08:00

Remember how excited we used to get for birthdays? Not just ours, but our siblings', our parents', our friends'. Birthdays for a child mean presents, sweets, games, time with friends and family we don't get to see all the time. Countdowns to birthdays were tradition with the reminder to everyone around us that there are just "16 days till my birthday!"

I don't think that excitement goes away, we just control it better as adults. This birthday is going to be an emotional one. It isn't sad, because today is going to be a wonderful celebration of my grandmother. Her service starts at 3 pm and I know her church will be filled with all who love her and want to remember.

The worst birthday I ever had was in high school. I think I was 14 or so and like every other birthday when I was growing up, I waited anxiously for the family part to start. Our tradition was always that the birthday person got to choose what we'd have for dinner that night. We got to eat off the red plate (the plate of honor in our house), then we'd have gifts and finally cake. Though everyone wished you well in the morning and was nice to you all day, our birthday didn't really start until dinner.

That year, I came home from school and started waiting. And waiting. And waiting. My mom was working for Head Start at the time and often came home late, but I was surprised she would be late that day. I think she finally got home around 8 pm. No presents had been wrapped. No special dinner. Instead we had KFC. I didn't complain, but most of you know I hate KFC. (I don't think my folks know that, but whatever.)

Anyway, as birthdays go around the world, I would hardly say that that qualifies as a "bad birthday" but I still feel the sting of missing out on our tradition that year.

This year, we went to watch the Paperboys with my sister and our good friends. We had dinner at Henry's Tavern, which was truly a bizarre experience because there was a boil order on the water because of an E-Coli outbreak in the local reservoir. No salads, no water, no drinks with ice, no soup. But great conversation with my favorite people in the world. We trooped off to the concert and as usual, the Paperboys did not disappoint. Got their new CD and my sister convinced me to have one of the band members sign it. Believe it or not, I'm very shy and needed a lot of encouragement to approach the band member.

And now, my darling hubs is making BLTs for breakfast. It smells fantastic! Nothing could be more delightful on a birthday than bacon. (Mmmmm, bacon. My greasy lover. Jim Gaffigan. Click that link. You won't be disappointed. It is my birthday gift to you.)

Two posts left!!

2009-11-29T07:56:00.000-08:00

Can you believe it? 30 posts in 30 days and only today and tomorrow to go! I'm very proud of myself because barring any natural disaster or kidnapping, it appears I'm going to make my goal. Of all the blogs I read, many of experienced bloggers, only one even came close, missing only one day. Either this means I'm awesome, or I need to find some better blogs to read!

The blogs I enjoy the most are not those of professional bloggers but rather the ones by friends and family who update me on their children and pets and the events of their lives. I used to think that in order to post I needed to have something profound or humorous to say, but really, the people that read this blog are probably like me in that they enjoy some of the day-to-day stuff too. So though I won't continue the daily posts, I will post more frequently than the rare and sudden burst of create genius that hit me and inspire posts.

I hope you have enjoyed my month of ramblings. Most of you are lurkers and I encourage you to comment now and again. Makes me feel less like I'm posting this stuff on some cyber bathroom wall.

In Loving Memory

2009-11-28T07:25:00.001-08:00

Marjorie Elizabeth Feighenne Nolan

July 10, 1923 - November 25, 2009

Marjorie "Marge" Feighenne spent her childhood in Maryland.

She married George Nolan in 1943 and

become the mother of three children: Elaine, Judy and David.

She had 9 grandchildren and 10 great grandchildren.

She lived in Oregon most of her adult life and was a

devoted member of her church and local community.

She loved dolls and owned over 2000 in her collection.

She also collected spoons, plates and clocks.

She loved coffee and a good margarita.

She loved gardening, music and watching ice skating.

Every cat was a friend.

She loved to sing and was a member of her church choir for many years.

Her heart had no limits when it came to animals, her family, and her friends.

I don't remember growing older

2009-11-27T22:07:00.000-08:00

(Be sure to sing the title to the tune of Sunrise, Sunset from Fiddler on the Roof.)

Well kids, here it is, 10 pm, and I haven't finished my blog post yet. We had friends over for tacos so it was a late night for us. (Bill rocked the crock pot again! The pork for the tacos was absolutely delicious!) It is my week to clean up and for some reason, standing doing the dishes just about did me in. My back is killing me and I'm ready for bed. I don't remember ever being much of a night owl but after about 9:30 I start shutting down. We're going to a concert tomorrow and I'm a little concerned about staying up that late.

Our friends were visiting from Texas and we were chatting about feeling old. I wonder where the line is between, "I'm young! I'm awesome!" and "Why WOULDN'T I put my pajamas on at 5:30pm? No sense changing clothes twice." Her babysitter (the one who watches her son, not that she has a baby sitter) is in her early twenties and listens to retro music stations that play 80's music. Oy.

My colleague just turned 40 and was telling me how great it is. She said that something happened overnight between 39 and 40 that made her look at the world differently. Her new answer to everything is, "Why not? I'm 40!" Positive outlook and attitude about everything, she says this decade is better than any of the rest of them. I think that is amazing. Why shouldn't you feel fabulous at 40? Better yet, why do we have to wait till 40 to feel that way?

My birthday is approaching and rather than feeling depressed that I'm another year older, what if I tried really hard to change my outlook? I should wake up and say, "Why not? I'm young! I'm awesome! I'm 34!" I don't know if I could do anything crazy, like take a pole dancing class, but maybe I could stay up later than 9:45.

I should start out small like that and then work my up to braver things. Let's try a few on for size.

Should I go to Albertsons instead of Safeway? "Why not? I'm young! I'm awesome! I'm 34!"
Should I order something other than the Oriental Chicken Salad at Applebees? "Why not? I'm young! I'm awesome! I'm 34!"
Should I wear shoes other than clogs or sneakers? "Why not? I'm young! I'm awesome! I'm 34!" (Note, I won't do this one because other shoes can really hurt my feet and I don't want to spend the next day hobbling around. I may be awesome but I still have good sense.)
Should I wear a patterned shirt instead of a solid? "Why not? I'm young! I'm awesome! I'm 34!"
Should we go out to dinner at a restaurant that doesn't offer a coupon AND eat after 7pm? "Why not? I'm young! I'm awesome! I'm 34!"

This gives me a lot to think about. A lot to strive for. I'm excited about the changes this new attitude is going to bring. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go take some antacids because my tummy's a little upset. Maybe I'll have some warm milk before bed too. Maybe I'll do both! What the heck? Why not? I'm young! I'm awesome! I'm not 34! Yet.

Long Day

2009-11-26T22:39:00.000-08:00

This morning I woke up at 5:45 out of habit and rather than going back to sleep I thought I would get up and get my appetizers going. Pigs-in-blankets with homemade sauce (tradition), homemade hummus with unhomemade pita bread and veggies, and guacamole. I was very proud that my appetizers were all appropriate for my brother-in-law, who can't tolerate dairy. I wasn't thrilled with the hummus - not smooth enough. I made enough for an army and Bill doesn't like it so . . . hummus, anyone?

It was a very long day. We didn't get home till 10:30, but it was delightful. My sister did most of the meal and what a feast it was! Mom got a much deserved break and spent a good chunk of the afternoon going through pictures for my grandma's memorial service. Bill got an uninterrupted nap while Teddy frolicked around the yard and house, getting pets and snacks everywhere he went. I even dropped a raw potato on the floor on accident and he snatched it up and happily gnawed on it in the other room. (I threw most of it away, but he had a good time.)

We played an energetic game of Quelf, to my mother, sister and my delight and the tolerance of the menfolk. The highlight was my sister and I singing sad songs while acting like weeping willow trees while my dad yelled out, "Serves you right, Captain Poopy Pants" whenever anyone had to go back spaces on the board. If you haven't played Quelf, come over sometime. It's a hoot.

Hope everyone enjoyed their days with family and friends!

Still thankful

2009-11-25T21:29:00.001-08:00

I intended this post to be another list of things that I'm thankful for but this day turned out a lot differently than expected. During lunch, we found out that my grandma passed away this morning. In a flash they had subs for us and we were walking out the door, heading home and to my parents to offer whatever support we could.

I'm going to write a post for my grandma, and I wish I was Wonder Woman and could do it this evening, but at 9:30 pm, just home with a list of things left to do before tomorrow, I think it will have to wait for another day.

But let me assure you, I have much to say. About what a wonderful woman Grandma was, about what saints my parents are, and about how much family and friends mean to me not just at this time of year, but every day. I'm just having trouble seeing straight.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Countdown to Thanksgiving

2009-11-24T19:24:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. All the love and family and turkey goodness and none of the stress and hoopla. I'm so irritated with the madness associated with Christmas because every strand of lights hung in November, every Christmas carol played in a sushi restaurant a week before Thanksgiving (true story) takes away from what it really is all about. There really isn't that much consumerism with Thanksgiving.

This year we get to spend Thanksgiving with my family. We alternate years with my family and Bill's and my sister and hubs are on the same schedule with her in-laws. Lots to be thankful for this year so what better place than this blog to publicly declare all the reasons my heart is full this season!

1. Competent student teachers. Mine starts her work sample next Monday but is teaching a big chunk of the lesson tomorrow. Though I don't get to hang out in the staff room eating muffins and drinking coffee, I do feel like I get some down time. I'm observing and evaluating her, but it isn't the same as standing up in front of kids all day.

2. Decaffeinated coffee. To know me is to know that coffee and I are the dearest of friends. But I was easily drinking 3 cups every morning between my morning cup and my travel mug. Not very good for me so I've made the switch to decaf. Tastes just as delicious, which proves that it is the drink I love, not the caffeine, and I know I'm doing something better for myself. I didn't even have headaches!

3. Wizards. I'm listening to Harry Potter on CD and really enjoying myself. I watched the movies but the books are so detailed and it is delightful to get lost in such a wonderful story.

4. Amazon MP3 deals of the day. Bill and I have been downloading music from Amazon for next to nothing with their daily deals and other offers we've found on the web. Very fun!

5. Eggos. It was an impulse buy at the store the other day but I bought a package of Eggo frozen waffles. They remind me of my childhood when we usually had them in the freezer. I still eat them the same way: double toasted till they're dark, little bit of butter, just enough syrup to cover the top waffle. Then I turn it over so the syrup can drip onto the other waffle. My sister used to painstakingly fill each tiny waffle dent with a drop of syrup. Shocking I would have another quirky food story about my sis and I!

Oh my, such problems.

2009-11-23T21:01:00.001-08:00

Bill has asked me what I would like for my birthday. He is going shopping tomorrow and needs ideas and I have absolutely no idea what to tell him. The few things that we want for the house are way too expensive and the few things I need are not really appropriate for birthday gifts, like heat resistant spatulas.

How incredibly lucky I am!

She's here, she's here, she's here!

2009-11-22T18:07:00.001-08:00

My sister and her husband arrived from Ohio today for the Thanksgiving holiday. They will be here till Friday. We picked them up from the airport and went out to lunch. It is so good to see her! The last time they were here was May which is too long. I'm looking forward to Thursday (my favorite holiday!) and good food, time with family, and some R and R!

My how things have changed

2009-11-21T17:59:00.000-08:00

It is hard to remember what I used to do with my time 8 years ago before I was with Bill. I KNOW for certain that it didn't look like this:

1. I wore a UO t-shirt on my date with Melissa today.

2. I rushed home so I wouldn't miss the start of the game.

3. I missed the beginning, but I listened to it on the radio in the car. And I knew which station it was on.

4. When I walked in, Bill said, "I'll give you a kiss after this drive." I wasn't annoyed at all AND I was kind of glad because I wanted to watch the drive.

5. I can't think of a better way to spend Saturday night than snuggled on the couch watching Duck football with my man.

Happy Friday

2009-11-20T14:24:00.001-08:00

A couple of weeks ago I completed an online survey about Spanish textbooks. I forgot all about it until today when I got a letter in my mailbox. It was a letter thanking me for participating in the survey along with a $25 Borders gift card! Woo hoo! What a way to start the weekend!

In addition to that, a student pointed to a picture of Bill I had on my wall and asked if he is my husband. When I looked he said, "Is that your ma-an?" with a roll of his head. Hilarious. I told him he made my day.

How health food becomes junk food

2009-11-19T20:04:00.000-08:00

Recipe: Healthy Salad

Ingredients:

1 head red leaf lettuce, chopped

1 cucumber, sliced

1 bunch green onions, sliced

1 tomato, chopped

Combine all ingredients in a large bowl.

To serve:

Place generous handful of vegetables on plate.

Add:

Sliced chicken breast

Handful of bacon bits

palmful of blue cheese crumbles

large scoop of chopped avocado

generous squirt of ranch dressing

Enjoy!

Okay, that is so . . .

2009-11-18T20:47:00.000-08:00

. . . romantic.

My dear husband brought me a dozen red rozes last week when I was having my "sick and tired" day. I was totally surprised and touched. They are still absolutely gorgeous almost a week and half later. So sweet.

. . . creepy.

I was at the grocery store this afternoon and had just run my card through the scanner. While the checker and I were waiting, the guy behind me started inching closer, with his money out as if he were going to hand the checker his money for my groceries. I looked back at him confused, because it was kind of awkward, and he just inched a little closer. As I grabbed my receipt and turned to leave, he was only a foot away from me.

. . . spicy.

Bill said he wanted spicy stir fry for dinner. I love making stir fry so I happily whipped up shrimp stir fry with noodles. It was so blasted spicy I could barely enjoy my glass of wine. Barely.

. . . awesome.

The student I chose for Student of the Month came to the breakfast a little bleary-eyed this morning. He'd been out until 12:30am with his dad at his first concert. His dad took him to Kiss, which was also his first concert. His dad, mom, grandma and brother all showed up for the breakfast. I've been doing Student of the Month breakfasts since I started 9 years ago and this is the only student who has ever asked for a picture with me.

. . . cheesy.

First duet on Glee tonight? Endless Love. 'Nuff said.

. . . magical.

I picked up the entire Harry Potter series on CD from the library this afternoon.

. . . surprising.

I was eavesdropping on two women at Subway the other day. (They were talking pretty loud, so it isn't like I was being weird or anything.) They were talking about ski jumping. Apparently, ski jumping is the only olympic sport that is not available to women. Like them, I did NOT know that. (Please note that I have done absolutely no research on this topic and not about to interrupt Glee to do so. My facts from the women at Subway may not be accurate.)

. . . adorable.

Teddy is laying on his pillow snoring right now.

Classic Teddy

2009-11-17T19:52:00.000-08:00

It is impossible to look at these pictures and not smile.

Take a Chill Pill

2009-11-16T19:40:00.000-08:00

Bill went to the Duck game on Saturday with his friend. I stayed home for two very important reasons. First, I had a first birthday party to attend and it was AWESOME!! Second, I didn’t want to go this time. Late night November games means that it is cold and usually rainy. I’m a fair weather fan.

It was a really late game too. Kick off was 7:20 which means that the game wasn’t over until after 10:30. Add an hour to get back to your car and get out of the parking lot plus a two hour drive and that equals Bill not expected home until after 1:30 in the morning.

Normal people would have gone to bed. I’m not normal, so I knew that it was going to be a late night.

A lot of people asked me if I couldn’t sleep because Bill was gone. That isn’t exactly the problem. If Bill had been staying all night in Eugene, I would have been fine: bed at 10:30, sleep till 7. But knowing he would be coming home, I couldn’t relax. I went to bed, but I kept needing to check the clock. I tried to sleep, I really did, but I was too anxious. If I dozed for a little bit, I’d wake and my heart would start racing.

It isn’t that I’m worried about being home alone. I have deadbolts, an alarm system and a perfectly intimidating golden retriever fast asleep in his crate. I’m just nervous about Bill. I am an expert at playing the “What If?” game and driving home in the middle of the night after a football game is loaded with what ifs.

Luckily, little sleep for both of us meant nothing more than a lazy Sunday. But it was annoying. Annoying because I worried myself sleepless and more annoying because I knew it was going to happen.

Phantom Post

2009-11-16T11:36:00.001-08:00

It was a valiant effort. My goal to post every day for the month of November was not achieved, and I’m really disappointed about it. But...

I really thought I posted yesterday! I composed the post in my mind, went over it, made changes, the whole bit. The only thing I forgot to do was write it out and post it. If you’d asked me yesterday if I posted, I think I would have said yes. Does that count for anything?

Since none of you all voted (did you notice I took the poll down? Anyone?) then I suppose my missed post really only matters to me. I’m a very forgiving person, so I believe I will post twice today, say three Hail Marys, and all will be forgiven. It will be as if the missed November 15th post never really happened.

Let me set the record straight

2009-11-14T19:36:00.000-08:00

My sister's eating habits are a thing of legend in my family. She doesn't mind talking about her neurosis but if someone criticizes, she flips. She's always been picky so I think it really surprises her when people who have known her a long time are surprised by what she doesn't like to eat. She NEVER makes a big deal about it if she doesn't like something so it really irritates her when someone else makes it a big deal.

On the other hand, I'm known for my lack of pickiness. I mentioned to friends that I was going to blog about our eating habits and someone commented that we were opposite ends of the spectrum. I would like to take this forum to let everyone know that my non-pickiness is a huge misconception. I'm actually quite picky and though I'm going to catch hell for saying this, I'm far more creative about it than my sister.

If you want the full story regarding my sister's eating habits, you can find a very thorough explanation here. Kate is a very talented writer and I could never do it justice, but if you are short on time, I'll sum it up for you. Don't mix things and don't mess with texture. Pretty straightforward, if you ask me. Where people get surprised is when they forget that these rules apply to common foods. Sandwiches, for example. Pretty significant mixing goes on in a sandwich and the textures don't match.

Whether you agree with her or not, Kate is very consistent. With only a couple of exceptions, her rules are very clear. Everything about my pickiness is about exceptions. That is why I am more creative.

I love crackers. I love cereal. I love ice cream. But I refuse to eat these things under certain circumstances. I will not eat broken crackers. I will not eat cereal if it is from the bottom quarter of the box. I will not eat the last serving of ice cream. (Unless someone serves it for me and I don't know that it is the last serving.)

I don't like dried fruit. Particularly raisins. Ugh. Everyone who knows me knows I can't stand raisins. But I love broccoli salad. You know, the one with bacon, cashews, sweet dressing, and raisins. I could eat bowls of that.

Fruit should not be baked into muffins, cakes, cookies or scones. But cranberry scones are my favorite.

Hot tea is delicious, iced tea is yucky.

Yogurt is not tasty. Yogurt on top of hot oatmeal is heavenly.

Chocolate chips? Good. Ice cream? Good. Chocolate chip ice cream? Yuck.

I don't eat potato chips unless they are barbeque flavor or dipped in ketchup. I would still put ketchup in a baked potato if it didn't gross out everyone around me.

I pick croutons off my salad. Croutons are too crunchy. Croutons are only okay if they've been soaking in the salad dressing long enough to get soggy.

It is okay to mix cottage cheese and pudding. It makes the pudding less sweet and sweetens the cottage cheese. (My parents used to put sugar on cottage cheese. I bet my sister still eats it this way.)

Cauliflower and honeydew melon are always left on their respective trays. There is a reason for that.

I could probably think of some more but I think you get the idea. As you can clearly see, my sister does not have the monopoly on pickiness. Oh, and goofiness is apparently a shared family trait.

(By the way now that you've read all this, I'm sure you're SUPER excited to go out to dinner with my sister and me.)

Go Ducks!

2009-11-13T22:35:00.000-08:00

Move over Dracula

2009-11-12T20:06:00.000-08:00

Seriously, folks, what is UP with vampires lately?

I'll admit, I've gotten sucked (HAHAHA) into the genre myself, but I don't really understand how it happened. I remember when it happened, but now how. Last year, around October or so, my book club suggested Twilight so I read it. Fluffy teen vampire romance, hardly any substance, next thing I know, I'm borrowing the other three in the series and waiting impatiently for the movie.

The movie is ridiculous, by the way. One of the worst I've ever seen. But did you KNOW the second movie is coming out next week? I'm going to see it with the same book club friend I saw Twilight with and I'm really looking forward to it. I'm embarrassed, but not enough to stop.

I'm also addicted to Vampire Diaries, the CW series about teenage vampires. Kind of like Dracula meets Dawson's Creek. Awesome. I love it. I started this post while watching this week's episode.

Bill will be a little miffed that I'm sharing this tidbit, but there is a vampire show we watch together. We quickly flew through the first season of True Blood, the HBO series and are awaiting the next season to come out on Netflix so we can continue. Now, the HBO series is really more about boobs and blood than anything else, which is why it is okay for guys to watch it, but it is still vampire drama just like the rest of it. So WHY!?!?

Before last year, I had no information about vampires or the dramas that come along with them. I watched Interview with a Vampire but I don't think it fits the genre exactly. So that means the only knowledge base I have is from the previously mentioned sources: Twilight, Vampire Diaries and True Blood. I'm sure vampires are choking on their O negative right now.

According to my sources, vampires have a really rough life. Ridiculously attractive, sunlight issues, extreme strength, and the annoying propensity to fall into deep, tragic, all consuming love with some weak, albeit fascinating woman. Each woman involved doesn't fall under his spell but rather sees deep into his soul to the true "person" that he really is. All hero vampires find other means of survival than human blood, but must constantly fight the urge to kill his beloved.

So tragic, so intense. So necessary for all true romances. Danger, intrigue, impossibility. No wonder middle schoolers love it. To think that when no one understands you, there is someone strong, handsome, refined and mysterious who not only gets you, is all consumed by you. Merely an inconvenience that he is tortured by an intense desire to drain you which he is able to overcome because he just loves you so much.

Working in a middle school, I witness firsthand the frenzy created in adolescent girls by the Twilight saga. Pledging allegiance to vampire Edward or werewolf Jacob, each teen imagines being the object of either devotion. What Twilight does so well is capture true teenage angst when it comes to first love. Vampire Diaries has the best story, in my opinion. I actually got confused as I was watching tonight, though I place most of the blame in my desire for a well-worded blog than a complicated storyline.

True Blood, as I said before, is just about sex and gore. Not sure I buy the intensity suggested in the relationship between Sookie and Bill, but just when I'm starting to doubt it, someone ends up with blood all over her skin tight white T-shirt.

I'm not really sure how to end this post, so I'll end it with a couple of vampire jokes.

From the internet:

Why did the vampire's lunch give him heartburn?

It was a stake sandwich.

From Bill:

What's the difference between the 12 year-old that watches Twilight and the 30 year-old that watches Twilight?

The 12 year-old doesn't know any better.

He swears he made that up.

Happy Veterans' Day

2009-11-11T19:41:00.001-08:00

We went out to dinner with one of our favorite veterans this evening and his family. Very good times, as usual. We tried a new place and when we walked in, we had to ask the waitress if there was a place minors could be, and she directed us to the back. Pretty rustic! But the chicken was good and the company was fantastic.

Happy Veterans' Day to all our vets. I am grateful to you for your service and sacrifice. This country is so lucky to have dedicated men and women who serve.

Mini golf and waffle guy

2009-11-10T17:46:00.000-08:00

I was looking through my photos for inspiration for my blog post and I found these. The first I posted because it is so funny to me. We were in Orlando for Bill's family reunion and played mini golf. As you can see from the blaring sign, it was a pirate themed mini golf course. I thought pirates made you walk the plank. I didn't know they put you in the stocks. Another stereotype distinguished.

This picture comes from the hotel lobby. The subject is not a member of Bill's family, but he is sitting across from 2 of Bill's aunts who aren't in the shot. One of his aunts was giggling uncontrollably because this gentlemen, who we didn't know, just kept talking and talking and talking to them. They kept looking at the group of us standing behind him with these desperate looks on their faces but they are both too polite and sweet to excuse themselves from the one sided conversation.

The other funny thing about this gentleman is that he lives in Orlando but takes a week long vacation every year at this particular hotel, also in Orlando. He helps out the kitchen staff and makes guests waffles during the continental breakfast. Very, very nice man.

Sick (and Tired!) Day

2009-11-09T17:23:00.000-08:00

I'm taking a sick (and tired!) day tomorrow. Here are the top three reasons why:

1. While assigning homework today, I wrote on the board that the students needed to write a story using the following vocabulary: por fin, no sabe nada, piensa que and gana. A kid in every class asked me if they were to do the assignment in English or Spanish.

2. I wrote a story about a boy who likes to read books. He especially likes to read books about Superman and James Bong. Kids kept asking if I meant James Bond. Try answering that with a straight face.

3. I posted grades today. 'Nuff said.

Waterlogged in Centralia

2009-11-08T20:34:00.001-08:00

Every year around the holidays myself and some friends from college meet in Centralia for lunch. Three come from Seattle area and 3 of us are from Portland. Last year, we decided to take the train up and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, so this year we booked again. Unfortunately, one of my friends had to cancel so it was just two of us.

Long story short, we missed the train. We would have made it but the parking lot was full. They closed the gate as we were running up. I've never missed anything before so I was very disappointed in myself. My parents are notoriously late to everything, and not just by minutes but hours. It drives me absolutely crazy so I make a big effort to never be late.

It all worked out. Amtrak refunded our tickets (thank goodness) and we jumped in the car and drove. It was fine, but it rained the ENTIRE way up and the ENTIRE way back. Sheets of rain that left rivers in the ruts of the freeway that I hydroplaned through. Yuck. But the trip was delightful and it was great to see friends.

Hey, is she Jewish?

2009-11-07T12:24:00.000-08:00

"Yesh zeev. Ha zeev rotseh tsipoor. Hu rotseh l'chol tsipoor. Yesh tsipoor katan. Ha tsipoor roeh et ha dag. Ha tsipoor rotseh et ha dag. Ha zeev lo roeh et ha tsipoor. Hu rotseh l'chol tsipoor. Ha tsipoor lokeach et ha dag. Ha zeev ha gadol roeh et ha tsipoor ha katan. Ha zeev ratz le et ha tsipoor. Ha tsipoor bocheh. Batman roeh et ha zeev. Batman oler "O lo!" Batman ratz le et ha zeev. Ha zeev roeh et Batman ve ratz. Ha zeev bocheh. Ha tsipoor notem et ha dag le Batman."

I attended a conference yesterday hoping that I would feel refreshed and rejuvenated so that I would start feeling better about work. I was not disappointed and the story written above is proof of that. After about 60 minutes of instruction, I was able to tell a story out loud, in HEBREW! Not only that, this morning, without looking at notes or anything, I wrote that 95 word story in HEBREW! HEBREW! Pretty amazing.

What's more, I'm confident that my story makes perfect sense and is free of grammatical and/or spelling errors. Pretty good for 60 minutes, if I do say so myself.

I already knew that the teaching method I use is powerful and the very best thing for my students, but I love coming back from a conference feeling so validated. And motivated. And excited to return to school to do my very best.

Some other important information I got from my workshop:

1. It takes more cognitive ability to process mathematical functions than it does to process language. Yet when adults say casually, "I took Spanish for 3 years in high school and I don't remember any of it", no one bats an eye. Would it be okay if that same adult said "I took math for 3 years and I can't add or subtract"? I think not. Yet many language teachers continue to use the same methods that don't work.

2. Laughing oxygenates the brain. A good chuckle can relieve you from DBS. Deflated Brain Syndrome.

3. No one teaches their children with direct grammar instruction. Yet children grow up and speak with near perfect grammar.

4. The affective filter correlates directly to success in second language acquisition. In other words, the better a student feels, the better the chances the student will acquire language in a classroom. Encourage success. Set them up to feel successful. Celebrate success. They will learn.

My Friday night at Grocery Outlet

2009-11-06T22:30:00.000-08:00

My friend and I started out our Friday night by meeting for pedicures after work. I had a conference so it didn't really feel like work, but I was really happy for a little TLC on my tootsies. After the pedis we decided to grab some pizza and head over to her house for a true girls' night out. While waiting for the pizza, we went to Grocery Outlet. I know what you're thinking. "How could this Friday night get any more exciting?" Two ladies at Grocery Outlet? Cutting edge.

Well don't knock Friday night at Grocery Outlet till you've tried it. Do you know they do wine tasting? Not just wine tasting, but cheese and crackers and chocolate and wine tasting. What garden of Eden had we stumbled upon? We were intrigued by wine tasting and decided to investigate. Now, GO is is very legit outfit for sampling fine vintages. Our IDs were checked and we were given a tasting sheet. All was good until I noticed the sign hanging on the tasting table and on the various displays of wine. "3 Taste Limit per Wine" Three taste limit isn't unreasonable, if they mean 3 tastes period. But no, GO limits not the number of wines you taste but rather the number of times you can taste each individual wine. This wouldn't be so funny if there were 3 or 4 wines. But people, there were at least 12 wines available for tasting.

Don't stress out, I'll take care of the math for you. GO limits you to roughly 36 tastes of their fine wines. 36! Let's just say that the tastes are a half an ounce. If you drink 36-half ounce tastes, that is 18 ounces of wine. A 4 ounce glass is the standard serving size which means you could haul yourself over to GO on a Friday night and walk out having consumed four and a half glasses of wine!

Now, I don't think very many people would do that. My friend and I had one taste of 4 or 5 wines. But while I was deciding whether or not to try a rosé or a pinot gris, I heard a young lady of about 75 years young approach the table and ask for a second taste of a particular wine. She was really getting her money's worth!

After our tasting, we decided to buy a couple and went looking for a grocery cart. After all, why wouldn't you put the wine you want to purchase at Grocery Outlet in a grocery cart? I parked my cart next to the display of pickles and corn chips and we put our selections inside. Making several generic, inappropriate jokes about consuming all our purchases before the kids go to school on Monday, we purchased our wine and on our way out the door, I couldn't help but realize that anyone could dress in their favorite sweats, throw on some flip flops and head down to GO for some frozen pizza and wine tasting. Sure beats Happy Hour on a Friday night!

Please, sir, can you quit giving me more?

2009-11-04T21:51:00.000-08:00

I was late arriving to my hair appointment last night (of course I called!) so that meant I was late leaving my hair appointment. I couldn't be in Hillsboro (60 minutes from home) without stopping in to see my parents and my grandma. So, an already late night became a really late night as I rolled into the driveway at 9:15 still needing to eat dinner.

The highlight of the evening was when I was kissing my grandma goodbye and she said, "Leaving already? Bummer." This came sleepily from deep in her bed, so tiny, but with a gleam in her blue eyes. I wish I didn't live so far away and could visit more often.

I left feeling pretty defeated, despite the much needed hugs from all three of them, after hearing the continued challenges my grandma has and the fatigue in my parents' voices and on their faces. Just when I think they can't possibly handle any more on their plate, I stop by for a visit or answer the phone and realize that they already are handling more. Very brave, very tough, very impressive people.

Why I'm crazy.

2009-11-04T11:06:00.000-08:00

Reason #17:

I am crazy because I will drive for one hour after working a full day at work, out to Hillsboro to get my hair done. It takes 2 hours to get my hair done. This means I don't get home until around 8pm.

Why don't I schedule my hair appointments on the weekend?

I don't want to waste my weekend getting my hair done.

Funny Things Middle Schoolers Say

2009-11-03T20:26:00.000-08:00

Here is a partial list of the many things middle schoolers say. Please to enjoy.

1. "Almost." This is what a middle schooler says when interrupted from his or her conversation with a neighbor by the annoying question, "Are you done with your warmup?"

Translation: No.

2. "Sure." This is the response a middle schooler gives to any question that is posed in front of his or her peers in which the answer could be potentially embarrassing. For example, "Do you like pepperoni pizza?"

Translation: I don't want to play your silly game.

3. "Do we do this in English or Spanish?" This question comes when presented with any task in Spanish class. The instructions on the board will say, "Write a story about a monkey in Spanish." Someone will still ask.

4. "What if . . . ?" This is a special one. It can come at anytime. It is always posed after a direct instruction or if anything is suggested to be a rule. You are not allowed to spray paint your hair. "What if it is washable spray paint?" You need to use blue or black ink or pencil. "What if you use purple?" Maddening.

5. "Did we do anything important while I was gone?" Students like to ask this one if they have missed any number of days of school. What do they think I'm going to say? No, we didn't do anything important for the 5 days of school you missed. We never do anything important.

Can she do it?

2009-11-02T18:59:00.000-08:00

I boldly made my decision yesterday to post every day for the month of November. November 1st will be the only one I miss because I didn't get my brilliant idea until today. I think I have a pretty good shot at completing my quest but what do you think? Can I do this? Do I have enough senseless drivel rolling around in my head to fill a month of blog posts?

Let me know what you think by completing the poll!

Happy Birthday

2009-11-02T11:11:00.001-08:00

Dear Readers,

My blog was officially one year old on October 25! Thank you for all the cards and gifts. Just kidding - the day came and went and I didn't even realize.

I'm going to let you off the hook for forgetting such an important gift by instead giving you one. I am giving you the gift of my charm, wit and way with words. You're so lucky!

That's right! I'm going to post something to my blog every day for the entire month of November. Apparently this is a very blog-y thing to do during November and I'm extremely intimidated about it, but also excited about the challenge.

Wish me luck, dear Readers!

La Maestra

So long. Farewell.

2009-10-17T08:47:00.001-07:00

While at the store yesterday, though I had them on my list, I refused to buy tomatoes.

Why would I buy something that up until recently, we had in abundance in our own backyard?

So I didn't.

And last night we used the very last, homegrown tomato to garnish our homemade taco pizza.

It was delicious and served its purpose well.

Back to the pale, flavorless, hothouse variety.

It’s a Love/Hate Thing

2009-09-18T20:26:00.000-07:00

This morning as I walked Master Teddy off the deck to do his business (he’s sometimes a little reluctant!) I noticed that the grass was heavy with dew. I know nothing about weather or seasons but dew on the grass is a reminder to me that fall is here. Fall is by far my favorite season. I love the smoky smell in the air on warm October afternoons. Colorful, crunchy leaves and bright, rotund pumpkins and that first cold night when you realize that your sweatshirt is no longer warm enough. I love wearing sweaters and long pants again after a summer of shorts and tank tops. The first dinner of roasted butternut squash with cinnamon and warm apple crisp. With fall comes the Peanuts Holiday Specials, beginning with It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and trips to the pumpkin patch to dig through the mud for the perfect pumpkin and rush off to the snack cart to buy kettle corn.

While fall is definitely my favorite season it also has many things about it that I very much don’t like. It is truly a love/hate relationship which leaves me exhausted trying to decide if I am happy, or sad at what fall brings along with that first gust of wind.

School. You knew this one was coming. I awoke quite early September 8th to welcome the little darlings with their brand new backpacks and lunchboxes, packed full with sharpened pencils, juice boxes and notebooks covered in Twilight stickers. Nervous kids with their wrinkled schedules peeking anxiously into my classroom, wondering if this was “The Spanish Room”. Girls shrieking, boys swaggering, all trying to prove they’re grown up while making it painfully obvious that they’re still just kids. I love it, and yet I hate it at the same time. I too am nervous. What am I supposed to wear? Will they respect me? Will this be a good batch? That isn’t even the part I dislike so much. What I really dislike is giving up the freedom. Though I didn’t spend entire days on the couch in my pajamas, I could have. Though I didn’t go to Hawaii for some mai tais and snorkeling, I could have. Though I didn’t go on a six-week backpacking tour of the Andes, I COULD HAVE! And now I can’t. The start of school reminds me of all the issues that weren’t resolved in June. The budget crisis still looms like a dark cloud over everything we do. “Don’t make extra copies. Your room only gets cleaned every other day. We'll try to find more chairs for the 36 kids you have in your class. We don’t have this, we don’t have that.” H1N1 lurks around the corner. “Wash your hands, cough into your sleeve, take vitamin C, for God’s sake, DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!” I already have a cold and it is only the second week.

Football. Football season kicks off (ha ha) in August and the beginning for me is the Ducks’ home opener. Early in the morning, we pack up the car with a cooler of beer and snacks and head off to Eugene to watch the game. No, we head off to Eugene to PREPARE to watch the game. I love cold game days, when we’re huddled around the barbeque drinking hot cocoa and Baileys (actually Carolans for Bill and I since we’re cheap!) and talking. I love the games when we’re winning and cheering and high-fiving and when we’re losing, I love sneaking out a little early and feeling so excited when we beat the rush out of the parking lot.

But. Football season also marks the loss of my husband. Check out this lineup: High school football game on Friday. College Gameday on Saturday and games all day. NFL on Sunday. NFL on Monday. The Fan when we get home on Tuesday. Pardon the Interruption after school. Sports Radio in the car on the way to school. Fantasy Football website to check. Sports Center on Thursday to catch college game predictions. Now, to my husband, that sounds like a whole lot of heaven. I’m glad he enjoys it so much and apparently I’m one of the lucky ones. But I miss my Saturday morning HGTV fix.

Rain. My other love/hate relationship with fall is falling from the sky as I write this post. Now, I mostly love rain. I live in Oregon for a reason! I love the drip, drip, drip of the rain. I love a quiet rain, when it feels good to stay inside with some cocoa and read a book but I also love a pounding, driving rain when you think that surely the gutters are going to come off the house and that soon you’ll see a canoe drifting by in river that has formed by the curb. The morning after a good rain when the air is clean and smells like worms is just so fresh to me. But the rain means I have to locate my umbrella again. The rain means more traffic and dangerous roads. Rain means shorter walks with an already neglected Master Teddy and wet footprints all over my kitchen floor.

Shoes. My feet are terrible. I’ve had bunion surgery on both feet and the only shoes that really feel good are flip flops. I own many pairs of flip flops. The problem with flip flops, and sandals in general, is the state your feet get into when you wear them. They get dry, cracked and uncomfortable. You have to keep your toes painted when you wear flip flips. So I love when fall comes around and I get to pull out the work shoes. Danskos are my favorite and I own three pairs. If I could get away with only wearing the Danskos during the summer, I would. So, so comfy. But they don’t look that good with shorts so I stick with the sandals.

But I also hate fall for the exact same reasons. No one gets to see my pretty toes anymore. I have to come up with a good reason to justify a pedicure! On Tuesday I tried to wear dressier shoes with my skirt and I ended up with blisters on my big toes. I’ve yet to figure out a shoe I can wear with a dress for more than one hour that doesn’t cause me to hobble the next day so fall usually means I end up in pants or jeans, which starts to look frumpy really fast.

Holidays. Yeah, you heard me. The holidays. I love the holiday season! The anticipation is just outstanding. I love watching the store windows and displays and making my list, checking it twice! I’ll bring up Peanuts again because the trio of shows just lightens my mood and makes it feel like the holidays are actually here! In the fall, the anticipation begins with the change in weather. Cool nights, cooler mornings, the fog! Nothing welcomes Halloween more than a gray foggy morning! As each beloved day approaches I get more excited and look forward to all traditions, from carving pumpkins to canned jellied cranberry sauce to exchanging ornaments.

And it all starts in September? Seriously, WHY do stores start displaying holiday decorations MONTHS in advance? I wonder if anyone has ever tracked how sales are affected by how early or late the displays come out. I can’t believe anyone is actually buying Halloween decorations and candy in August so I wonder what the purpose is of putting everything out so early.

Instead of making me want to purchase fake Christmas trees on Mexican Independence Day (that’s September 16th, people) what I really want to scream when I see those displays is “PUT IT AWAY!!” It isn’t time yet!! I haven’t had the last mojito of the season, for crying out loud.

So, dear Readers, I welcome, and cry about, the return of Fall. Beautiful, orange, smoky, chai-flavored Fall. Summer buzz-kill, over zealous, rainy, soggy Fall. Welcome back! What lovely, hazy treat do you have in store for me this year?

Martha Stewart Never Has these Problems

2009-08-06T17:25:00.000-07:00

There are two significant traits that I lack which prevent me from being a really good baker: patience and attention to detail. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy baking from time to time. I always get the urge to bake something yummy when the weather changes or when a party is coming up. My preference is to cook something for dinner.

Baking requires exact measurements and measurements as precise as quarter teaspoons. Cooking is a handful of this and measuring “to taste”, which is much easier and more appealing for me. If you mess up the ratios while baking, you can have flat cakes or cookies that are too dense. Not so with cooking. Too much or too little of something usually doesn’t yield anything awful unless it to the extreme.

I admire bakers. Everything they create seems so effortless. And usually baked goods are so pretty! That is the best part of baking. I love rows of chocolate cookies all lined up on the cooling rack like little soldiers. Or when you peek into the oven and see the cake rising proud above the pan.

Baking typically requires decorating which is my other downfall - no attention to detail. (This skill I lack also explains why I can’t stand scrapbooking.) Sure you can eat a cake with frosting slopped on but a cake on a plate with globs of frosting coated in a dusting of cake crumbs doesn’t look very nice. Baking yummy treats and making them pretty is tedious and time-consuming. My back starts hurting as I hunch over cupcakes painstakingly applying icing only to have them look like they came out of an Easy Bake Oven. You know, the toy we had as kids where we baked cakes in an oven that used a light bulb as the heat source.

I think the ultimate goal of bakers is to create a product that tastes homemade but looks professional. I subscribe to several baking blogs and love how each one posts pictures of the final product. For our family reunion last week I decided to bake sugar cookies so I could cut them in summer shapes like I did for our wedding reception five years ago. I made a huge batch and was really disappointed in the results. Now I think it is because I don't care for sugar cookies. I prefer shortbread and the cookies I made before were more shortbread-like. These cookies had an odd texture on the top and the glaze I made was sickly sweet and just gross. Bill suggested I frost them but I remained unconvinced. I made up some frosting and just went to town, fully anticipating that I would throw them all away.

Bill said they were fine with frosting and that they reminded him of the sugar cookies he used to buy at 7-11. Not exactly a compliment in my book, to have something you made compared to the convenience store version, but Bill meant it as high praise so I decided they were okay to serve for the event and frosted and decorated the remaining 4 dozen cookies.

When I was done, I noticed that this was the prefect opportunity to take a picture since they turned out pretty cute.

I took several pictures, attempting to shoot some clever angles like I see on the baking blogs. While arranging the cookies and snapping some pictures, I noticed something I hadn't while I was decorating.

I'm sure you saw it right away. In my efforts to make cute, summery cookies for our party, I inadvertently made boob cookies.

Though people seemed to enjoy the cookies, I think I'll stay away from sugar cookies for awhile.

My First Response? EPT: Expensive Peed-on Twit

2009-07-21T15:08:00.000-07:00

I know it is no secret that we're trying to start a family, so in a long-overdue post I shall share some insight I have into a big part of this process: pregnancy tests. I usually have an opinion about everything so it is no surprise that I would have an opinion about this.

Since we have had an ectopic pregnancy, one precaution we have to take is early pregnancy tests. Should we become pregnant again, hormone levels must be monitored because if they don't increase normally, the pregnancy could be ectopic. Therefore, we don't even wait until a missed period. Every month, at least once, I take a home pregnancy test.

I shudder to think how much money we've dumped into this precaution because as many of you know, home pregnancy tests are not cheap. Usually 2 tests cost about $14.99. Not only are they expensive, but they sum up the emotional trials of fertility in one quick trip to the can.

Regardless of the circumstances surrounding taking a home pregnancy test (HPT), it is an event charged with emotion. Will it be positive? Will it be negative? Both scenarios can bring disappointment, fear, elation, devastation depending on the situation. That is a whole lot of power for something you pee on and then throw away.

While I have used drugstore brands before, I usually opt for First Response. FR claims to detect pregnancy 5 days early (they all do, by the way) and shows a positive result with two vertical pink lines, a negative result with one vertical pink line. In very early pregnancy, if the hormones are barely detectable, FR may show the faintest of the second pink pregnancy line which can confuse people. EPT offers a digital choice which displays "pregnant" or "not pregnant". I don't really think the faint line is all that confusing but because I had a coupon AND it was on sale, I tried the digital EPT test recently.

I never thought I would have a preference because really, you just pee on it, wait, look, throw it away. But I am surprised to report that I don't like the digital test. At. All. Here is why: the digital home pregnancy test lacks sensitivity. Let me explain.

As I mentioned earlier, taking a HPT is an emotional experience regardless of the circumstances. The emotion I left out in my description that definitely dominates the whole process is hope. Whatever the desired outcome, the people involved are hopeful that the test will display the results they want. While getting ready to take this last test I was of course, full of hope that it would be positive. I was also curious about the digital test since I've never peed on anything digital before. Kind of weird experience. All tests require you to wait a couple of minutes so I took the test, and waited.

It took hardly any time for me to determine that this test is not for me. I'm used to FR. Immediately after taking the FR test, the dark pink control line appears. You have to wait for the second line to appear. If after about three minutes it hasn't appeared, the result is negative. Sometimes when the second line appears it is just a whisper of a line and other times it is just as strong as the control line.

You could take the test, walk away and come back to review the results. I doubt anyone does that. I stay in the bathroom and stare at the stupid thing, willing that light pink line to slowly appear. For a few minutes, your mind plays tricks on you. Is it changing? Is that it? Could it be? Oh please, oh please, oh please.

I really believe that FR wants to make me happy. That's why the line appears slowly. It is trying so hard to deliver the results I want but sometimes it is just too hard. Sometimes, it obliges with that dear faint line and your heart leaps as only it can when holding something you just peed on. Other times, the line never appears and you throw it in the trash only to pull it out a couple of minutes later just to double check. When it is negative, I am disappointed and I kind of feel bad for the test. Because it tried.

Not so the villainous digital option. After taking the test, of course I started watching. The display screen showed an hour glass rotating in a circle. Pretty high tech. No wonder this test typically costs around $18 for two tests. It is the Mercedes of HPTs. Anyway, after about 2 minutes of watching the silly hour glass turn circles, the words "not pregnant" suddenly appeared on the screen. BAM. No second-guessing, no mind tricks, no moments of hope lifting just a little. Just direct, sudden, insensitive results. I don't feel like it tried at all. Not like FR. While the obnoxious hour glass turned over and over, this insensitive test was just hanging out, until it decided to smoosh all my hope in one quick, unmistakable, blaring display of the words "not pregnant".

Just before tossing it in the trash I kind of wanted to flip the thing off. I mean, how rude. Rather than that flippant hour glass rotating over and over could it have said "just a moment please" or "hang in there"? And what about the results? Not pregnant. Could it have considered saying, "sorry, not this time" or "you're not pregnant but you look great this early in the morning" or "you're not pregnant but at least you can have a glass of wine tonight"? And the way it appeared! I felt like I'd been slapped.

Trying to conceive is hard enough without insensitive pregnancy tests. Women are very emotional during this process without the harsh coldness of the digital display. I'll stick with my sweet pink lines, thank you very much. Because even when there is only one line, at least I feel like the test is trying as hard as I am.

My Hair and Gambling

2009-06-01T19:27:00.000-07:00

(This post is going to have an odd beginning. I hope you’ll stay with me because I do have a point, it just doesn’t happen until later!)

A couple of weeks ago I was getting my hair done. I drive over 45 minutes back to my hometown to get my hair done every five weeks. A little bizarre, I know, but it makes perfect sense. Men may not understand barber loyalty as well as women. Most women I know have had the same hairdresser for years. When I moved from said hometown to current address, I changed my general practitioner, got a new dentist, new mechanic, everything. But I refuse to change my hairdresser. First of all, I could never find someone who does what she does (cut and weave and brow wax) for the price she charges (too low mention!) and secondly, I don’t want to change. She knows me. She knows my hair grows faster behind my left ear (it’s true!) and that I need extra color every other month at the spot above my right eye where I get a little stripe of gray. Funny thing about Linda is she also cuts my mom’s hair. Because she cuts my mom’s hair, she also cuts my dad’s since he doesn’t like to do anything without my mom. Every other time she goes in, he grumbles and sits in the chair so Linda can cut his hair.

(Hang in there! My Point still coming!)

So, Linda does my hair, my parents’ hair and also my sister’s if she is ever in town at the time she needs her hair done. Because Linda is this close to my family and our hair, she knows that I have inherited the delightful trait from my parents of premature gray hair. My mom would be completely white without Linda, my dad is totally gray, and my 33 year-old head is in the not-so-early stages of suffering the same plight. In fact, I’ve been covering up gray with some form of color since age 16. Thanks Mom and Dad.

(Congratulations! You’ve made it to My Point!)

Have you ever noticed that when we have a particularly annoying trait or feature about ourselves we always laugh it off and say, “Thanks _____!”, filling in one or both of our parents’ names? Why do we do this? Do we actually believe that our parents are responsible to the point of blame for our physical appearance and personalities? Or do we do this to somehow excuse our own behaviors/shortcomings and therefore transferring the blame to someone who realistically, has no control whatsoever over said behavior/shortcoming?

When pondering this question, I get a picture of my parents dressed in white lab coats, hunched over a glowing petri dish in a lab with bubbling graduated cylinders all around. My mad scientist mom and dad hold pipettes and in hushed voices argue over my genetic makeup.

Mad Scientist Mom: Give her my eyes and your height!

Mad Scientist Dad: Do we give her the premature gray hair?

Mad Scientist Mom: No, we already gave her zero coordination!

Mad Scientist Dad: But we also gave her high intelligence.

Mad Scientist Mom: You’re right. The premature gray balances it out. Do it.

This scenario suggests that our parents are working together to balance out the genetic makeup. To create a child with equal parts of the two parents and equal parts of good and bad. It is fair. They want to create the best possible person with what they have to work with. I’m sure many of you with siblings know that this isn’t always how it works out. Ever heard “Yeah, she got the brains in the family!”? In my family it was always about skin. My dad’s olive, easily-tanned skin was coveted whereas my mom’s fair skin which burns in the shade was a curse. This is when I picture my parents as witches.

Mom has a pointy witch hat and a cape. They are bending over a bubbling cauldron and cackling wildly when deciding my genetic fate. Bats are flying around and a big pile of weird genetic traits are thrown into the brew soon to be their offspring.

Witch Mom: And now an eye of newt, so that her eyesight will be poor and she will run into things in broad daylight!

Witch Dad: Excellent! And one beaver tooth to ensure that her teeth be bucked and crooked.

Witch Mom: Perfect! A horse hoof should guarantee her bunions and don’t forget the pile of grass and cat hair!

Witch Dad: Of course - for the allergies! Last but not least, the hair of a nanny goat so she'll go prematurely gray.

Witch Mom: And now for the magic words!

Bibbity Babbity Bobbity Boo

Everything about you is inside this brew

Bobbity Babbity Bibbity Bee

You’ll talk about this in therapy!

Of course this isn’t the correct scenario because our parents love us and would never intentionally do something to put us into therapy. If we know even a little about genetics we know the real story which is there’s not a damn thing we can do about any of it.

Genetics is a roll of the dice. A crap shoot. A spin of the roulette wheel. Uh oh, I feel another vision coming on. Mom and Dad at a casino with a big bucket of nickels. Well, my parents did spend their honeymoon in Reno...

Gambler Mom: The wheel's spinning! All right! She got a good sense of humor!

Gambler Dad: I'm going to try again. Maybe she'll be charming and charismatic.

Gambler Mom: You got it! Wait to go, honey! Try just one more time! She could get a sparkling wit.

Gambler Dad: It's risky. Are you sure? Charming and charismatic is pretty fantastic.

Gambler Mom: What the heck! Go for it!

Gambler Dad: Okay, here goes. Oh crap. Sarcastic and goofy. Nice try. Let's go see how we do on hair.

Gambler Mom: Good idea. I'm feeling really lucky about hair!

Update...sort of.

2009-05-27T17:34:00.001-07:00

After months of speculation, weeks of worry, days of panic, and an hour of a layoff workshop, I finally got some answers today. The district decided to move forward with the layoffs that will be necessary due to declining enrollment. At our building, no one was RIFed (I have no idea how to make RIF a verb, but everyone says it!) but four people will be moving to other buildings. I get to stay put (yay!) but a good friend will be moving to another building and isn't happy about it.

The funny thing is, they still have to solve the budget crisis, which means things could continue to change. While I feel like this is a good answer, I don't really trust it. Assuming that the union and district can agree to concessions, everything should be fine. That, however, is a pretty big assumption. So we continue to play the waiting game.

Solving the budget crisis without more layoffs will likely mean salary freeze and possibly cut days, which of course means a smaller paycheck. Bill and I are going to put our carpet quest on hold (AGAIN!) and try not to notice how gross our current carpet really is. I think it is the original and our house was built in 1980. Quick math equals YUCK! Maybe we'll just buy a bunch of area rugs.

We are also going to hold off on our patio project in the backyard. We will use the existing pavers we have lying around to make a space for our firepit we already have and build some planters for the deck. A far cry from the flagstone patio we wanted, but a much more economical and responsible choice. And it provides the same space for enjoying our backyard on summer evenings.

Ahhhh, summer evenings! Two weeks from tonight and we'll be enjoying the first one!

Just when you think it can't get any worse...

2009-05-18T17:24:00.001-07:00

...you get called into the principal's office.

It wasn't a good thing as a student and as a teacher, it still isn't a good thing. Our principal-elect told me this morning that our school district is going to proceed with layoffs using the current budget predictions for next year. While there may still be concessions made by the union (salary freeze, insurance freeze, etc.) which may change the number of teachers actually affected, lay off notices should go out by the end of the month. If the district creates the budget based solely on reducing force to make up the shortfall, that means our staff of 27 teachers will be reduced to 20, and I will be one of them. It is a possibility that I could move to the high school, but their staff is being reduced by almost 20 positions, so that is unsure as well.

Everything in this whole process has been unsure. If this, then this. But if that, then this. It is very frustrating and people just need to know. Teachers feel as if they are bearing the brunt of this crisis, so on top of fear and uncertainty, there is also suspicion and lack of faith in the administration. Overall, it just feels yucky.

We're operating with the worst-case scenario in mind and praying that concessions will be made by our union and the district that will work in our favor. Worst-case scenario has me subbing next year and changing our budget and lifestyle dramatically. That last part is pretty funny since Bill and I are already pretty frugal people. I know we can survive a very serious belt-tightening, and I know our parents lived quite well with much less than we have. But it is absolutely frightening to consider we would be cutting our income in half.

I really thought that this year was going to be easier. I didn't imagine it could get harder than the last year and a half. How naive.

I think I need to get really good at gardening and preserving. On a brighter note, we are going to have a bumper crop of plums this year. Plum jam, plum pudding, plum tart. What else can you make with plums?

Grandma

2009-05-02T22:07:00.001-07:00

This is my grandma.

My mom took this picture at Easter and Grandma was so annoyed because she didn't want her picture taken. This is the closest we could get to a smile and she wouldn't look at the camera.

This is her real smile:

She has at least a million stories. She loves animals and the color pink. I think she looks especially wonderful in blue. Here is another picture of her at my sister's wedding.

See what I mean about the blue? She drinks her coffee black but she loves her "special coffee" which is the International Delight hazelnut instant coffee. She and my grandfather hand picked the wood paneling in their house that she now lives in with my parents. They kept it up for her when they remodeled.

She grew up in Maryland. She collects clocks, dolls, plates and spoons. She clipped out every article about the new baby elephant at the zoo. She used to make jello with fruit in it. She knows I don't like jello with fruit in it so she would always make a separate dish of plain jello for me.

She reads the newspaper cover to cover and watches the news from 5 to 7pm, even though it just keeps repeating. She can't stand George W. Bush and will tell you exactly why. She loves to tell the story of my brother sitting in the tree in her backyard and so wrapped up in whatever he was thinking about he didn't know it was raining. I've never seen her bed unmade.

She's gone to the same church for...ever. She always had Tic Tacs in her purse and was delighted when a child at church called her the Tic Tac Lady. She also always had Chiclets. She has a special knack for growing African Violets.

She is stubborn, has a heart of gold, and an amazing memory. I'm very proud to be her granddaughter.

To blog, or not to blog? Who really cares?

2009-04-29T20:09:00.000-07:00

About two weeks ago I wrote a post that I was really proud of but I decided I wasn't quite ready to publish. It wasn't particularly thought-provoking and it certainly wasn't funny. It was actually quite the bummer of a post. I saved the post and decided to wait a couple of days to see if I still wanted to post it.

A couple of days later I reread what I'd written and decided it wasn't that I wasn't ready to post it, it was that I was scared to post. I wrote it while I was feeling very sad and I was afraid that through the post, I would reveal too much. Would make people feel bad. Would make people uncomfortable. I always worry about what other people think so again, I decided that I would wait a little longer to publish my post.

And now, two weeks later, I am still conflicted. I'm sure you are wondering, "What in the world could cause so much conflict? Just post already!" That is when I wonder if fellow bloggers ever feel as I do about posting what we actually feel. Do people (and by people, in theory I mean the world) really want to know?

The conflict isn't about how I feel and if it is justified. People experience all kinds of emotions and there certainly isn't a rule book that states what you are supposed to feel in any given situation. I'm not worried that readers will question my feelings but rather they will finish reading and say, "Wow. I really didn't need all THAT during my happy blog-reading time." My concern is in the blogging rule book, which I have yet to see. Do you protect your readers from yourself? Is a blog for the blogger or the reader?

If the blog is for the blogger, a true web log, then the answer is post away! If the blog is for the reader, it becomes much more complicated. Personally, I assume that the people who read my blog are mostly friends and family, who care about me, and would want to know how I'm feeling, even if it is lousy or sad. At the same time, how impersonal is it to let your friends and family know you are feeling down in the dumps by posting it to the universe? BUT, I often compose my thoughts much better when I write them down. (Scary I know, considering some of my other posts!)

So which direction shall I go? Do I stick with mostly light topics, rants and raves and anecdotes, or do I let a little (or a lot!) of the personal side in sometimes?

Ode to Daffodils

2009-04-04T17:29:00.000-07:00

My favorite flower of all time is the daffodil. Everything about the daffodil is lovely and happy. First and foremost, daffodils are yellow. If yellow wasn't such an impractical color, I would choose it for just about everything. Clothing, paint, furniture. Unfortunately too much yellow can be a bad thing. But never for flowers. Driving down the freeway a couple of weeks ago I saw bunches of daffodils growing cheerfully along the shoulder. As if to say, Hey gray freeway, we're here to add a splash of color!

Daffodils just have a smiley name. I dare you to say daffodil without showing some teeth! And for those of you that are made of stone, perhaps you are more impressed by the other, more sophisticated name of the daffodil - jonquil. I love the way it rolls of your tongue! When I was a counselor at outdoor school I chose the name Daffodil. Maybe it is because it is so close to Daffy (as in Duck) that the word evokes a feeling of glee.

At the beginning of March, when the cold and the rain has settled deep into your bones and each gust of wind makes you begin to wonder if the sun will ever show itself again, sweet specks of yellow begin to emerge from the hard ground. Their cheerful, bright heads are just what you need to hang on a few more weeks till Spring truly begins to show. It is as if their trumpets all sound together and beckon the sun from hiding. I always know we're almost there the day I first notice my friendly daffodils those lingering days of winter.

I only have one lonely daffodil in my yard (which I keep saying will change but I can never remember when you're supposed to plant bulbs until the window has passed) and I envy the displays in the yards around the neighborhood. So today at the store, when I noticed them for sale, I bought two bunches. They weren't nearly as happy in the store, all bunched up with their heads tightly closed, but I brought them home, put them in a vase and set them on the window sill. Not even 5 minutes later my little champions of Spring and happiness started to perk up and stretch out in the sunshine. Every time I glance at them in their sunbeam, I'm cheered.

While Portland is going absolutely crazy enjoying the sunshine this April day, I pause to thank my friend the daffodil. Thank you for giving us a little bit of hope weeks ago that yes, this day would come.

Fine Print

2009-03-27T21:16:00.001-07:00

Have you ever stopped to read the fine print? For the most part, just the words "fine print" stimulate your "uh oh" meter. "Don't forget to read the fine print!" We're warned to pay attention when signing paperwork at the doctor's office or hospital and when we rent a car. Anything important requiring signatures usually come with fine print. Some people choose to ignore it and we usually see them on episodes of "People's Court." There is a reason why it isn't in bold print. Large, bold, fluorescent, underlined print catches people's attention without too much difficulty. Spoiler alert!! Paperwork that comes with fine print has information they don't want you to read! If they wanted you to read it, they wouldn't make it super tiny.

So that means that fine print is often bad. At the hospital, the fine print pretty much says that if you should die or come out of surgery with a limb missing, it isn't their fault. At the doctor, the fine print says that if your insurance doesn't pay for a really expensive lab, you still have to pay for it. No one really knows what the fine print says on your retirement account because there is so much fine print they have to send you a phone book sized addendum and no human being has ever bothered to read it all.

Fine print on advertisements is usually bad too. "Buy our product! Use our service! It is so amazing!" The fine print tells you a different story. Our medicine is great! Except is causes nausea and headache. I lost 79 pounds! Results not typical. 6 days, 7 nights of sun-filled paradise! Travel available only during monsoon season. The information in the bold, sparkly writing is usually what makes you want to buy the product. The information in the fine print is what makes you change your mind.

But sometimes, on a few rare occasions, the fine print is the ultimate in hilarity. Tonight, while watching TV, I saw a commercial for Excedrin. Excedrin is usually my headache medicine of choice, so I watched with interest as they marketed the new formula which claimed to deliver the medicine at an accelerated speed. Excedrin Express Gels promised to relieve a headache in only 15 minutes. Excedrin Extra Strength Express Gels. I just love the alliteration. It was a great commercial, too. They turned the pill into a rocket and sent it flying through the air. It continues around the room with a trail of smoke behind it so you understand just how fast this medicine will work. I even thought, "Wow! I already like Excedrin but something that can work in 15 minutes? Even better!" Then came the fine print. Dramatization. And at that moment, I changed my mind. Just like that, I no longer wanted the product.

But maybe it is for the best. I mean, what if Excedrin left out the fine print, and I went ahead and purchased Excedrin Express Gels? What if I took those pills home, opened the bottle, and after waiting several minutes, realized that the commercial had dramatized their advertising? That in fact, the little pill mutating into a rocket ship and flying around with a trail of smoke was not actually real but merely a dramatization?

So I encourage you to read all fine print. Not just for your well-being and safety, but for your amusement. It will knock your socks off! Dramatization. No socks actually blown off while reading fine print.

Daredevil in high heels

2009-03-04T20:05:00.001-08:00

To the lady walking across the street last night:

I was very happy to stop while you crossed the street even though it wasn't a designated crosswalk. I also understood that you needed to take your time going across the street because it was dark and starting to rain.

I even understood that you were slowed down a little more by the 4 inch spike heeled boots you were wearing. I probably would have had to stand on tip toe and bunny hop across the street in heels like that, so I'm impressed that you were even ambulatory.

What I fail to understand is that while you were leisurely crossing the street illegally, in the dark, while it was raining, in your super tall boots, you also felt the need to continue TEXT MESSAGING.

Perhaps you can explain why that text message was so important that you were willing to risk getting smashed by a car to finish punching the keys. Were you so distracted that you didn't even have a little hesitancy in your choice to pick your way across a street in your precarious footwear? Maybe you didn't realize you were crossing the street. Perhaps in your boots you couldn't sense that the sidewalk had changed to asphalt.

I'm wondering who I would have to be texting that would be so urgent that I would put myself in that perilous situation.

Or why I needed to cross the street at that moment. That mid-text and step I would say to myself, "Self, we just have to plow through," and then take a breath and step off the curb.

It isn't safe, kids. It's just not safe.

Yogurt...poison in a foil-covered cup

2009-02-27T13:01:00.001-08:00

So it feels like my life right now revolves around food, losing weight and being sick. These three things seem to fight with each other on a regular basis, which means that I feel like I'm in the middle of a boxing match. Allow me to explain.

I am trying to eat right and get healthy, therefore I am counting calories and recording everything I eat.

Bill and I got pretty sick around the same time which completely destroyed our workout plan. This means I have to be extra careful about what I'm eating and make sure everything counts because I've only been up for walking Master Teddy. I'm not going to "waste" calories on something frivolous because I want to make sure I stay at my chosen number of calories for the day. (You would think that would mean I don't waste it on my coffee, but let me assure you, coffee is NOT frivolous. I gladly exchange a morning snack for my beloved beverage.)

When you don't feel good, certain things sound delicious and other things sound crappy. Most people don't crave broccoli when they are sick. Or a grilled chicken breast with steamed asparagus. When I'm sick, I want two things that I never eat otherwise: macaroni and cheese and apple juice. I never waste time or calories drinking juice but when I'm sick, cold apple juice tastes so good to me. I can't explain the mac and cheese.

And finally, the last element of this epic battle between food, losing weight and fighting illness is that you have to EAT to recover. My weight loss diet is a sensible diet with lots of fruits and veggies, which will give me lots of energy and assist my immune system. But it doesn't make me FEEL better.

And to top it all off, my doctor recommends that I wash down the grape-sized antibiotic tablets with, gulp, yogurt. I hate yogurt. Yogurt, in my opinion, equals frivolous calories. Most servings of yogurt come out to about 100 calories. 100 calories of sour, fake tasting yuckiness. The only way you can get yogurt to taste sort of palatable is to buy the whole milk, heavily sweetened kind, like Tillamook, which has a lot of sugar, fat and more calories. I never feel satisfied after yogurt, I usually want something to wash the taste out of my mouth. Like beer.

But even worse than yogurt (ear muffs, guys) is the dreaded yeast infection that usually comes along with taking antibiotics. Especially the one my doc put me on, Augmentin. It is pretty much a sure thing that around day 4 of taking the pills, the medicine has killed every spec of bacteria anywhere in my body and a yeast infection takes over. Yuck. So, I'm forced to choose. Shall I attempt to avoid the yeast infection by eating yogurt every day or shall I tempt fate and hope that this will be the one time the yeast fairy passes my bacteria-less body by? (I imagine the yeast fairy is more like a mosquito than a fairy. Something you want to smack or incinerate with a bug zapper.)

I chose the yogurt and bought some on the way home from the pharmacy. I decided to buy plain yogurt because the container was the only one that claimed it "meets National Yogurt Association criteria for live and active culture yogurt." (National Yogurt Association? THAT would be a fun meeting to attend.) The container also boasted "BILLIONS of live active and probiotic cultures!" Oh goody.

Listen up you billions of probiotic cultures! If I am going to waste calories on you so you can counteract the bacteria nuclear bomb I'm ingesting in the form of a battery-sized pill, if I'm going to choke you down, fighting back my gag reflex so you can replace the innocent good bacteria I lose in this other kind of Cold War, if I'm going to swap some other yummy snack for the likes of you in the hopes that you will prevent a horrible yeast infection then YOU BETTER NOT LET ME DOWN!

Let that be a warning to you!

Salty People Suck

2009-02-10T19:46:00.000-08:00

After that last post it is obvious that I need to post something a little more cheery. I am feeling much improved after my slump last week and although I am doing a little dance with Bill's cold, I am back to my usual happy self. Sigh. I missed me.

Anyway, on to more important things. Like my live-it. (Bill and I decided not to call it a diet, since we are eating to live!) My current weight loss is about 8 pounds. Yea! I am very used to recording what I eat and have tried several absolutely delicious recipes from Cooking Light. If you need a comfort food fix, try Chicken Tamale Casserole and if you have a hankering for Thai food, Broiled Tilapia with Thai Coconut Curry Sauce is amazing. The sauce is excellent for chicken also or grilled tofu if you are vegetarian. Or if you just like tofu.

I am still struggling to work out on a regular basis. I average twice a week plus walking Teddy. I would be much happier if I went to the gym 3-4 times a week. I know this will improve when Bill is done coaching so we can take turns going to the gym and tending to Master Teddy.

Although weight loss is difficult for everyone, I am going to make a very bold statement here when I say that it is easier for salty people. Before you start throwing pretzels at me, allow me to explain.

I am a sweet person. I don't mean I am friendly and like to cuddle puppies and coo at babies (although that is definitely true!) What I mean is that I have a sweet tooth. No, I don't have a sweet tooth. I have a whole mouthful of sweet teeth. Plus all my wisdom sweet teeth. (Note: This means I really like sweets, not that I actually have my wisdom teeth. All four were pulled many years ago. I want to be truthful.)

I usually don't want hard candy. I go for baked goods. Not just baked goods. But baked goods, drenched in ooey, gooey sauce. Warmed up so that everything oozes together. Mmmmmm. Ice cream is fine, but in a sundae ice cream is really just a medium to deliver copious amounts of hot fudge. Truth be told, I'd gladly pass on the ice cream in a sundae. Hot fudge is amazing but my true love is caramel. The ingredients in caramel are butter, brown sugar and cream. How could you not love that combination?

So this is why I believe weight loss is easier for salty folks. People who love salty snacks don't have nearly the amount of temptation that us sweet folk have. Think about it. There isn't a single holiday that is celebrated with salty snacks. Can you imagine receiving a bag of potato chips from your Valentine? What about leaving Santa a big plate of pretzels? Or on Halloween getting Doritos in your trick or treat bag? Come on! That holiday even has "sweet" in the iconic phrase that makes it famous! Trick or TREAT. What about terms of endearment? You don't call the love of your life your little Cheet-O. Of course not! It is "sweetie", "honey" or cutie-"pie". Would you replace your child's marshmallow Peeps in his Easter basket with cheese puffs and his chocolate Easter bunny with an order of fries? On our birthdays we always blow out the candles on our CAKE. It wouldn't be the same if we blew out candles on our birthday corn nuts.

Sweet treats surround every holiday and celebration. We have cake for anniversaries, winning the little league trophy and honoring someone's retirement. We eat it at weddings even though most people I know always say, "I don't really like cake" while licking a smear of frosting off their fork. We go out for dessert after watching a play and eat dessert when we meet for book club. A meeting isn't a meeting if the boss doesn't bring in doughnuts!

Lord how I wish I craved salty snacks instead of sweet treats. I wish I drooled at the thought of a handful of corn chips instead of feeling attacked by the constant barrage of sweet goodness that taunts me during every social occasion. How much easier weight loss would be! I could walk through the staff room and not give another glance to the plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies someone brought in. (Notice how no one ever brings in sardines to share?) Or imagine being able to walk past the secretary's desk and not feel the need to pause for a tiny handful of M&Ms. I would finally be free from the chains that bind me in the form of red and black licorice ropes!

So salty people, while I don't believe your weight loss is easy by any means, I do envy your cravings. How I wish they were mine! Then maybe I wouldn't feel so tempted all the time.

Sometimes it just feels crappy...and that's all it is.

2009-02-04T19:26:00.000-08:00

I spent a good part of today trying to rationalize why I feel lousy. Why is it that when we feel bad we try to figure out who or what to blame? Like there must be an explanation for feeling blue. We can't just feel blue because we do but there must be some REASON why. Are we obligated to be happy and positive all the time? I've blamed feeling low on hormones. (Guys, please note that under no circumstances are you to EVER blame a woman's mood on hormones. Women are the only ones allowed to do that.) I've claimed that I feel low because of lack of sleep. Lack of exercise is also often the recipient of blame. Sometimes I blame other people.

But very rarely, if ever, do I just say, "I feel like crap." Period. Without an explanation or list of excuses.

Today isn't the day either. I know why I feel down and glum and sad. I blame it on life.

Most of the time I find life a joy to live. I love my husband and our home. I truly enjoy what I do for a living. I have a great many friends who never stop reminding me why I choose to have them in my life. I'm healthy. My husband is healthy. We have a sweetie pie dog, cars that are paid for, families that love us. We're lucky.

I feel like complaining or feeling bad isn't allowed because really, what do I have to complain about?

And then today, for no particular reason, I can't get my mind off troubles and worries and fears and all other kinds of negative emotions. In church on Sunday we heard how to worry means to lack faith in God. We should use the gifts and tools God gave us, not sit idly by and let a tree fall on us, but to worry really accomplishes nothing. I believe that. Doesn't mean I can turn of the old worry switch. Heck, I can't even find my worry switch. I don't know who keeps turning it on but I don't feel like I have any control over it.

I'm worried about my job. Education in our state has taken, is taking and will continue to take a hit, just like a lot of other industries. Worse case scenario is I'm out of a job. Best case scenario is many of my colleagues are out of a job and we take a pretty significant pay cut. Neither of those situations is good. I don't know what is going to happen so my imagination takes over. I have a vivid imagination. I can't do anything other than pray that God give the president, the governor, the legislature, the school administrations and everyone else involved the wisdom to make good decisions for kids, educators and taxpayers.

We just started year two of trying to have a family and I'm really starting to get discouraged. Talk about out of my hands! Last year was really hard and even though we did and are doing everything right, we keep getting reminded that so much about what happens to us isn't in our control.

I really hate that. I think that may be the hardest part. If you have experienced or can imagine an emotion that a person/couple would feel when trying to have children, suffering loss and other challenges, well, I've felt that. But knowing that regardless of how much I want this, how hard we try, how carefully I take care of myself and how closely I monitor the whole process, it really is out of my hands.

So, since I can't do anything about the things in my life that are making me feel scared, out of control, powerless, et cetera...I choose instead to dig deep, and revel in the joy in my life.

(In no particular order...)

1. My dog, panting after a long walk, yet racing to find his frizbee, because there is always more fun to be had.

2. Jon Stewart.

3. My friends, who can make me dissolve into giggles or howl with laughter any time I see them and don't hesitate to comfort me and tell me it will be okay.

4. My husband, who I am still amazed chose me.

5. My family, who support me and love me and are always cheering me on.

6. Coffee. And chocolate. Preferably both.

7. Flowers, especially yellow ones.

Oh come on! Not even one pound?

2009-01-27T20:23:00.000-08:00

Bill and I decided to get serious and change our lifestyle to be healthy. While our goal included some weight loss, what we both really wanted was to make better choices for what we eat and make working out a part of our routine. We set some reasonable weight loss goals to be achieved by June of this year. Then we created "The Plan".

The Plan is pretty simple. No fad diets or extreme restrictions. The Plan was to set a healthy calorie limit for ourselves, write down what we eat, and work out 3-4 times per week. I bought us new journals to record our daily food intake. I also discovered a website called FitDay where you can record calorie intake and exercise, which has a searchable data base of foods with all the nutritional information. It is really cool.

So, off we went. We started January 2nd. There have of course been a few things happen that caused us to veer from The Plan, like Bill's birthday, but we are trying to make lasting changes. So when we went out, we ordered sensibly and limited the calorie busters, like wine and sweets.

I had a hard time the first week getting to the gym. It was the first week back to school and I felt really tired. But since then, I have been swimming and walking. I can do more though. My exercise definitely needs to increase. But I have been religiously recording my calories and sticking very close to the 1,500 limit. (And I'm honest! I recorded 10 M&Ms!)

To date, Bill has lost 16 pounds. I am SO proud of him.

I have not lost one pound. Not one. The scale has dropped below my starting point, but it has also gone above my starting weight. Before we started this stupid thing I would go above and below my starting weight.

I feel like I should just go ahead and chuck it because all this work and scrutiny hasn't affected my weight any more than eating what I want and working out occasionally.

Seriously, three and a half weeks and nothing? Someone hand me a corkscrew.

The REAL reason why I haven't posted in weeks

2009-01-23T19:14:00.000-08:00

I remember very clearly the day we got our Atari. It was a big deal. I remember the big plastic cartridges you had to plug in for the various games. The joysticks, with the bright orange button and the cord that only allowed you to be three feet away from the console. Oh man, that was a big deal. Whenever I think of our old Atari, of course I think of Centipede, Pong and Dig Dug. One of my favorites was Space Invaders. We logged many hours on that old Atari.

I also remember when we got our Commodore 64. It was Christmas Eve and like every Christmas Eve until she passed away three years ago, we were at my Nana's house. For some reason, my family and my uncle's family were opening the large gift intended for the whole family that were from our parents. My cousins opened up a treadmill. My brother, sister and I opened up the Commodore 64. I will never, ever forget my brother's face when he realized what he had opened. Disbelief first, then shock, then absolute joy. What an upgrade. Atari got shoved in a cupboard and made way for the high tech C64. Gone were the plastic cartridges, to be replaced by 6" floppy disks. We started playing Frogger, Archon (my favorite), Ms. PacMan. Pitstop, Commando, and Ghostbusters.

While I have fond, fond memories of these video games, what I remember most is my brother's obsession with them. And he was really, really good. I sucked. But it was the best day if he would play a game with me. We'd hook up the joysticks or controllers and select a two-player game and though he would completely kick my ass, and those who know me know I hate to lose, I was so happy because we were playing the game together.

I'm not sure when the Commodore 64 got shoved into the cupboard with the Atari. I remember getting a computer and spending most of our time fighting over who got to play next. The camaraderie of the dual joysticks disappeared and we started growing up. We never went past the old Commodore 64. No Nintendo, certainly no Playstation or XBox, these were much later. I heard of the obsessions that came along with those gaming systems, but I never really understood them, because to me, video games were about watching my brother and praying the next time he played, he would let me play with him.

Now, at least 20 years later, I've met, and become close to, a certain young Italian named Mario. For his birthday, I bought Bill a Nintendo DS. I asked him what he wanted and he jokingly said and XBox. Of course, we can't afford that but I discovered that if I ignored our "limit" we established for birthdays by just a little, I could get him the Nintendo DS. I even splurged and got him the Super Mario Brothers Limited Edition. Bill was excited, and I was thrilled because I finally got him something he seemed legitimately excited about. He started playing Mario Brothers, the only game he had so far. Though I wanted to play too, I of course waited until he was finished until I picked it up to try. Bill is currently in World Two and hasn't played Mario in weeks. He plays Brain Age and Madden '09. I am in World Eight and so frustrated with the stupid bees that drop down and attack me I want to scream. I've yelled at the game. I snap the lid closed and groan with frustration. I've even called the game unfair. I was serious, too. It took 20 years and I now understand the obsession.

Bill recently asked why I haven't posted on my blog. He wondered why I haven't posted on Teddy's blog. Well, Dear Husband, the answer is simple:

"It's me...Mario!"

The snow comes in...

2008-12-22T20:49:00.001-08:00

...on little cat feet.

What I've learned from Arctic Blast 2008

2008-12-22T17:21:00.000-08:00

1. When you don't own a snow shovel, as I imagine most Portlanders don't, the best way to shovel a driveway/deck/walkway/sidewalk (though people in the Suburbs don't shovel sidewalks, see below) is a dustpan. Yep. I used a dustpan to shovel the majority of our deck and over half our driveway. We have a flat tipped shovel, but it was killing my back. So, I squatted and started scooping. Worked like a charm. My legs were killing me and it reminded me of being in the Philippines. Weird, I know. When I lived in the Philippines I watched many a maid squatting in the yard cutting the grass with scissors. I also learned by watching these women the best way to squat in a knee length skirt. But, these are completely different topics.

2. Most people in the suburbs do not shovel their own sidewalks. In Portland, and in most other areas, it is the homeowners responsibility to maintain the sidewalk in front of their house during inclement weather. Now, Bill and I do not have a sidewalk in front of our house, but I feel very strongly that if we did, we would be shoveling it. (Probably with a dustpan, but we would shovel it!) I believe this because we use sidewalks and understand the importance of the need for safety for pedestrians. It is NOT safe to have sidewalks covered in ice and snow and it is also NOT safe to have pedestrians walking in the middle of the street during snowstorms (see below). Now I don't know if suburbanites don't shovel walks because they don't own shovels, like us, or if they don't think it is their responsibility (likeliest choice) or if they are just lazy, but our trip to the grocery store on foot today would have been much easier if sidewalks had been maintained. Not a single one was.

2. Some people get really rude when it gets snowy. Bill and I were walking last night and the safest place to walk in our neighborhood was the middle of the street (see above). This is because there are either no sidewalks or they are covered in 14 inches of snow and ice. At least the snow on the streets has been packed down some by cars. Anyway, we were walking and a car was about 50 yards behind us. I hadn't heard it yet but became very aware when the driver yelled out of his window "GET OUT OF THE ROAD!" Not very friendly.

3. It will take a very long time to run out of food if you really couldn't leave your house, but when you feel like you can't leave, you become convinced that there is "nothing" in your cupboards. Made me feel very fortunate to have what I have and very aware that there are people who actually have empty cupboards year-round.

4. What looks like a few groceries in a shopping cart becomes incredibly heavy when you stuff if all in a backpack. Even with both our backpacks we had a pretty heavy load on the way home today.

5. Snow stresses out pets and makes it difficult for them to relieve themselves. (See Teddy's lament on this topic.) We tried very hard to keep the deck cleared so he could go outside and also shoveled a space in the yard for him. He would get really stressed out, run around the yard (covered in 14 inches of snow), bounding around, until finally he would give in and do his business. Note: He never once used the area of the yard we shoveled. Weirdo.

6. Even if you only wear sweats for a solid week, you will still have exactly the same amount of laundry at the end of the week. This is a phenomenon I don't understand.

7. Some people are morons when it gets snowy. A couple of said morons were out on their quads yesterday and today. One missed my garbage can by about a foot and another was pulling a kid behind him on a sled. No one, including the kid, was wearing helmets. I asked Bill how you could be on a quad without a helmet when it is illegal to be on a motorcycle without a helmet. Bill reminded me that quads are not street legal so the legality of wearing a helmet or not is really irrelevant. Good point. Either way, you would think the numerous deaths as a result of similar sledding accidents would deter you from extremely unsafe behavior.

8. Regardless of how many times you check the weather online, watch the weather report on TV (should be easy to find some coverage, see previous post on this topic), read the paper, or try to guess when the snow will stop, you just have to wait for it to stop. The reason that Bill and I are such good traveling partners (other than the fact that we are just plain awesome partners!) is that we both believe that there are things you can't change, regardless of how annoyed you are or how much you want it to change. We show up at the airport WAY too early (on purpose) and buy coffee, read a book, shop, whatever. The waiting is part of traveling, so we don't get annoyed by it. So, when the weather turns, we accept that our plans may change (we didn't get to go down south to see his family for Christmas), we go with the flow, and we try not to predict when things will be different.

9. If you have to be snowed in, it is one million times better if you have:

lots of cocoa
a laptop with wireless connection
a big TV
a snuggly puppy who acts like an angel despite 9 days without a proper walk
a wonderful partner who you enjoy being around
a good book you don't mind rereading (The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger)
good wine (our favorite)
a dustpan

Perspective

2008-12-22T11:28:00.000-08:00

I took this picture of our house when we moved in.

I think it gives some nice perspective as to the amount of snow

we've gotten in the last 3 days.

Christmas Cacti

2008-12-20T14:57:00.001-08:00

The Party's Over

2008-12-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

After 3 days of wearing sweats, baking, and playing with Teddy in the snow, our snow days have come to a close. We have a 2 hour late start this morning thanks to working in the only district in Clackamas County that actually waited to see if there would be snow before canceling classes. Most districts called it last night, despite warming temps and rain. But alas, OC waited, and upon seeing that most of the snow was going or gone, told us to come to work. While this is the more responsible and community PR-minded decision, I wouldn't have minded just one more day. Tis the season to be gluttonous about laziness.

But now my mindset has shifted about the weather. I have things to do! Winter break starts Friday at 3:15 and I have parties to attend! Shopping to finish! Plays to see! Places to travel! I really don't want the weather to mess up my plans.

If I haven't said it enough, enjoy the season! Drive safe! Eat fudge!

Complete Contentment

2008-12-14T17:57:00.000-08:00

Sigh.

Laundry is clean and folded.

House is clean and decorated for Christmas.

Dinner is 10 minutes from coming out of the oven.

Glass of wine is poured.

And a snow day tomorrow to boot.

Life is good.

Seasons Greetings!

2008-12-14T12:39:00.000-08:00

Wishing you and yours the happiest of Holiday Seasons!

UPDATE: Winter Blast 2008

2008-12-14T10:04:00.000-08:00

All the warnings and preparation and updates were not in vain as Winter Blast 2008 has arrived. Right now we see about 2 inches of snow and promises of dropping temperatures. Some news stations are showing continuous coverage of the storm and while looking for something else to watch, I paused on one of the stations. Chains are required on all freeways, which is smart for two reasons. First, Oregon snow is not like other snow. It turns to ice almost immediately. Second, Oregonians for the most part are not equipped to drive in these conditions and have little experience. Not a good combo.

But what I wonder is why people decide to go out today? On a Sunday? After four days of warnings??

WINTER BLAST

2008-12-13T20:15:00.000-08:00

Apparently they think it may snow in the Portland area.

If you live anywhere else in the country, I'm sure you're thinking, oh, snow, how nice. It doesn't snow very often in Portland, does it? I'm sure snow would look very pretty with all that greenery.

If you live anywhere in the Portland area and you don't live in a nuclear bunker, you are rolling your eyes and snickering. We've been hearing for about 4 days about how we are going to get snow this weekend. TriMet has detailed their preparations (chains on all buses) and ODOT has been careful to assure that they are prepared for the winter weather (I'm not sure how, but the guy on Channel 8 with the Starbucks cup seemed pretty sure that ODOT was in fact, prepared.) We've had full analysis of the weather - all Dopler radar and weather cams geared up to give us detailed info on barometric pressure, precipitation and wind velocity. This morning, at 6:30am, at least 20 hours before the WINTER BLAST is expected to hit, we watched LIVE reports from the critical areas likely to be affected. Note that the critical areas are large parking lots, overpasses and any road with the word "Hill" on it's street sign. You would think we live in Honolulu and are expecting a blizzard.

How much snow are we expecting, you ask?

1 - 3 inches on the valley floor.

I'm sure Oregon must be the laughing stock of the entire nation.

How does the possibility of 1-3 inches result in full, first story coverage (though one station did give top billing to the bomb that went off at a local bank, killing two police officers. Maybe they didn't have enough reporters to have someone look outside and see the extreme weather conditions...)

Why do we have live, continuing coverage of WINTER BLAST when it is 40 degrees outside? I'm sure many stations are paying their meteorologists overtime to gather information and make predictions about the FIRST COLD SHOCK of the season. Is it imperative that we have live, continuous coverage of potential cold wave? Uh, yes, of course it is! We have to have people reporting live so we don't risk the chance to interview the guy walking down the street and his preparation for the event. "Uh, yeah, I had to find my gloves. Heh heh. I only had one glove so I had to ask my wife where my other one was. Heh heh, I really need both gloves in case one of my hands gets cold. Heh heh. I can't stick them in my pockets - it doesn't do the trick. Heh heh."

If it seems like the continuing coverage is getting a little redundant, they pull out old footage of ARCTIC BLAST 2007, where an unfortunate soul got caught on tape as he careened down an icy hill, hitting several parked cars on the way down. Or they show similar footage from POLAR BLAST 2006 where some other guy did the same thing.

If we actually see weather like they're predicting, all regular programming will be preempted in order to provide full coverage of the snow that accumulated on the freeway and the traffic nightmare that resulted. (The 10 people that actually decided to go to work apparently all drive the same route.)

Okay WINTER BLAST, bring it on. I'm ready. Lord knows I've been prepared for you.

Parents, I salute you!

2008-12-07T15:43:00.000-08:00

I have a newfound respect for parents, and photographers who have ever tried to get the "perfect shot" of their little darling. While we don't have kids yet, we like to send out photo cards around the holidays. Therefore we needed the "perfect shot" of our sweet little Teddy. Teddy is very serious when it comes to picture taking. Well, Teddy is very serious when it comes to treats, and those are required for picture taking sessions. Teddy took the most adorable shot with Santa when we took him to Santa Paws, but I was having trouble ordering the prints as a card. So I thought I would take one myself.

Getting a dog to pose has to be more challenging than getting a kid to pose. Of course, I don't have experience getting kids to pose, it seems like the major challenge for Christmas pictures is the screaming child on Santa's lap scenario. I mean, you can reason with a kid, right? (I'm sure all parents are laughing hysterically at me right now.) Getting the dog to "pose" not only meant asking an animal to look at the camera, but to simply sit in the right spot. Teddy weighs 65 pounds and does not want to move while waiting for a treat for fear that it will risk the treat. But if you take a step away from him, he will quickly move around to position himself directly in front of you.

So, we tried gently shoving him over to the place we wanted after he sat down.

Warning!! Butt shot coming up! I can't believe I post this stuff...

Unfortunately this confused him further.

We managed to get a couple of reasonable photos,

but most had some problems that made them less than perfect.

There is this shot, which is really cute, except I'm not sure

if a dog with demon eyes is really appropriate for a holiday card.

I also love this shot of Teddy's cute "smile" but the Santa kind of looks like the Travelocity gnome, kind of hanging out on the side.

This one was getting closer, but people will wonder who Teddy is looking at.

Why couldn't we take one of Teddy looking at the camera, they will think.

So, no perfect shot. But much fun, and cheese (literally!) while trying.

Happy Holidays!