dragging across the finish line

The last day of self imposed daily posting has finally arrived. I can’t say the last 30 days have been too bad but I have no delusions about continuing the trend. I really just don’t have that much I want to commit to writing on a daily basis. At the moment I am just tired. Nothing new really but not having much downtime during the day is really a change for me. As I arrived home when it was getting dark (at 4:30 nonetheless), I started thinking about how much Jason and I used to work. Not that we don’t work a lot now and he does more than I do (hours of professional money making that is), but we used to both leave at 7 something and get home around 6. When I was working on starting up this company, I worked nights and weekends and never particularly minded. We also did a huge amount of work on our house at the time. When did we sleep? I know I’m describing a pretty typical daily routine for most Americans and the majority probably work in physically harder ways than I ever have, but seriously, I just can’t imagine it anymore. I have gotten so used to flexibility and having Henry a part of my daily routine that at the moment I just can’t conceive of things any other way. If I really loved what I am doing it might be different and who can say how much pregnancy is having an effect on, oh, everything, but if I had to keep this schedule up for more than another month I think I would fall apart completely. Gosh, this all sounds so melodramatic I’m not even feeling that melodramatic. I guess I’ll just blame sleep deprivation and hormones while I can and say that I am currently impressed with the amount of time people spend working because they want to or have to. Good night.

attachment

The babysitter worked out just fine. Henry didn’t care at all when I left and then Jason got home while he was still napping. Apparently when he realized it was Jason and the babysitter was gone he freaked out. Am I the only person in the world whose kid has never once cared when left with a stranger (to him)? Or anyone beside Jason I guess. That is, he has cried a couple of times in his 2 years and 4 months of life when I left him with Jason and done the same to me when Jason has left but that’s it. He’s happy when we come back but not overly so and fine when we’re gone. I know I should be glad but I can’t help but feel a little sad when he cheerfully says “see ya later mama. Bye bye!” At least he willingly gives hugs and kisses and unlimited cuddles when we are together.

On an unrelated note, it’s amazing what a few nice pieces of clothing that fit will do for my psyche. I ordered a bunch of stuff from Gap maternity online and most of it actually looks good and fits. Amazing. I may actually make it through this pregnancy in something besides stretched out yoga pants and too short tee shirts. Thank God.

On another unrelated note, Jason's parents did the thing they usually do a few hours before they leave when they turn really nice and thoughtful and generous and I am sad (almost) to see them go and feel like a jerk for being annoyed at them the previous day(s). Typical. I should be able to see it every time but I just can't seem to skip the annoyed phase no matter how hard I try. maybe it will be easier when I'm not pregnant and grumpy anymore. Likely story, I know.

imagination explosion

I was just talking to someone a few days ago about imaginary play and how the way kids play changes. Since that conversation Henry has been surprising me left and right. First, he has been identifying things in random shapes. He was eating popcorn and picking up each piece to inspect it. He apparently saw a spider, mouse and a man (in 3 different pieces). Today in his chicken pieces, he saw a sail boat. He has played with play-doh for quite awhile but just started making food shapes and taking it over to his little stove to cook it before serving it to us. He cooked a piece on the toy burner and held his hand above it telling me it was hot. Cars and trucks are driven all over the house while he makes loud car and truck noises. Finally, tonight he held up two toy figures and had them talk to each other, introducing themselves. “Hi lego man.” “Hi Wendy.” And later, “hi upside down Wendy.” I know this is all pretty typical and probably even a little boring but I have to say I love watching these new developments and can’t believe how much he is changing in front of my eyes in a matter of just a couple days. This of course makes me even less happy about spending so much time away from him during the day. At the same time, we have a new babysitter coming tomorrow morning and I have high hopes. I’m sure I’ll have something to say about that tomorrow.

rubbing me the wrong way

It’s day 6 of the visit and I am officially sick of Jason’s parents. I appreciate them taking care of Henry but trying to work at home today whole they did so was not a good idea. They leave tomorrow night and not a moment too soon. I hate that I get this way but it seems that no matter how short the visit (and I don’t consider this short) I can barely make it through the last day without feeling grumpy and snappy, particularly at his mom. They are nice people who try to help and are great with Henry but I simply can’t help but become the most easily annoyed person on the planet in their presence. Oh well, at least I didn’t have to travel and have had some control over things in our house. Henry slept like crap last night and didn’t want to go down at all tonight so I am hoping that a little more normalcy will help smooth things out for us all. I’m crossing my fingers for a decent night to end it all tonight.

changes

I thought a little more about yesterday’s whole calling attention to my kid’s crappy behavior thing and why it left me so pissed off. I’m sure this is pretty obvious but, hey, I’ve been writing every goddamned day for 26 days and obvious is fine with me at this point. Like all kids, Henry has his strengths and weaknesses. One of his strengths up until this point happens to be that he is eager to please, listens and responds well. In short, he’s a “well behaved” kid according to most social standards. As time goes by he is getting more demanding and intense, particularly when he doesn’t get something. This is all to be expected and I feel fine about dealing with him at home (without an audience) but I am still getting used to it in public. This includes in front of people like Jason’s parents. I have known all along that we are only partially (perhaps minimally, even) responsible for his good behavior. But, just like when someone tells you your kid is cute, or smart, or funny, it’s hard not to feel proud, and in doing so, assume some credit. So, I guess I have become pretty attached not only to the well behaved Henry, but to my identity as the parent of a well behaved child. The cliché about change being the only constant in parenting certainly applies and I guess I just need to suck it up and get used to some new interactions and a slightly altered identity.

unwelcome

We went to a small restaurant this morning for brunch with Jason’s parents at a place that we really like(d) for dinner. I had read accounts/rumors that the chef isn’t tolerant of kids. I know he has an older son but whatever. Henry was ok but he was hungry and getting pissed that Jason wouldn't let him try his drink. A few times (4 total I believe) he let out a pretty big shrieky yell. At one point the chef (open kitchen) stuck his finger in his ear and gave me a bad look and mouthed “loud”. I was already unhappy about the deal with Henry and it really didn’t help. I have no idea what the fuck he really wanted to accomplish aside from making us feel unwelcome. The thing is, Henry sat in his seat the whole time and made cute faces at the waitress (who told us how cute and smart he was several times) and the other owner made goo goo eyes with him much of the time we were there. The restaurant was busy and there was loud (too loud for me) music playing. We are not talking about anything resembling a tantrum here. The kid yelled a few times and, yes, I admit it was a bit piercing. Had even one other person seemed to notice we would have gotten him out of there but it was seriously minor given the situation. There were other kids in the place and it just wouldn’t have been that big of a fucking deal. I know I am feeling defensive and judged but I don’t know how else to feel. The chef sort of warmed up and smiled at Henry later when his colleagues pretty much made him but it was little consolation to me. I am done ranting but I’m sad that even if it’s not logical I have little interest in returning to one of my favorite restaurants in town even without the boy. Ick.

bare minimum

Slow day, mostly in a good way. Slept in. Ate some leftovers. Went on a walk. Took a nap. Did a little (very little) work. Shopped a little (very little) at a locally owned store. Ate out. Played cards. Watched tv. Going to bed.

thankful

After a long day with the in-laws I am proud to say that we are all faring quite well. The combination of Jason’s parents and mine usually make me a bit crazy but today the worst it got was boredom. That was particularly an issue when pretty much everyone but me was crowded around one of three computers either playing games, playing inane music or searching for toy trains. Dinner was nice. I spent too much time and energy cooking since I insisted on also doing a somewhat time consuming breakfast and afternoon snacks/lunch in addition to dinner. But, it was all reasonably pleasant and no one ate too much or got drunk. At the moment I am too tired for much coherent thought or reflection but I am very thankful for what I have. I really do feel more and more fortunate every day. Well, most days anyway, and I am working on the happiness to match it. I am off to move a sleeping cherub out of my bed and crawl into the warm spot he leaves behind. Sweet dreams.

100

For my 100th post I shall talk about farts. If you know me, and perhaps even if you don’t after reading the following, you will know that this is quite out of character for me, but here goes anyway.

For all of my desire for Henry to speak clearly and pronounce things properly, and my attempts at helping him do so, sometimes it is nice that the rest of the world doesn’t understand what my toddler is saying. A little while ago the three of us were having dinner at a favorite local Vietnamese restaurant. It was somewhat busy but no too loud so when Henry had a big fart I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who noticed. I do think that other people overheard when he subsequently yelled loudly “Henry fart!” Thankfully, I am the only one who heard that. Everyone else heard “En-ry art!” or even more likely, they just heard a kid yelling unrecognizable sounds. I am hoping that his social skills will mature as does his vocabulary and pronunciation.

So, I am not a big fan of talking about bodily functions. I’m not that big of a wimp but scatological humor does nothing for me and certain things just bug me. The following is a story my aunt (She is my aunt by marriage and grew up in Amsterdam and drinks a fair amount. I love her.) likes to tell even though it is a story she heard 25 years ago and I am sure none of the actual participants remember the events at all. If I didn’t have a loud, funny, lovable drunk with an amazing accent in my family it would have been lost. The entire story is based on a phone conversation I had with my grandma when I was 5 years old. At the time she lived with us, as did my great grandma who was taking care of my 3 year old sister and I at the time. Apparently I called her at work (she was a county welfare director at the time) to tell her how mad I was at my sister who was following me around making fart noises and saying the word fart. I know I hated this. I am told the conversation was something like this, “grandma, I hate m. she keeps making fart noises. Pffft. Pffft. Make her stop. Now she is saying fart. Can't you do something? She won’t stop. God damn it. I hate that fucking word!” That’s pretty much the whole story with the emphasis on the 5 year old me saying “I hate that fucking word.” Some things don't change.

To round this out and hopefully end my need to ever write about this topic again, I will also tell you that around 4 or 5 I would yell at my sister (or anyone really) for farting and when she challenged me about it I told her that I didn’t fart because I had that part of me removed when I was a baby. I have no idea how long she believed it but I think it was for a very long time. If my family didn’t fear my wrath, they would probably tell that story as well. If my aunt knew about that one, I am sure she would.

keepin' on

Well, the kitchen is clean. The house is somewhat picked up and vacuumed. Jason (my small to mediumish miracle) just got back from two grocery stores and no more shopping needs to be done. Henry woke up at 5:45 am again and then screamed for tv at the top of his lungs and I can only hope he will still be asleep 8 hours from now.

I suck at being in the office all day but the new employee seems to be settling in. This is a very good thing because she will be the one who allows me to really take off the time I want and need in the spring around baby arrival time. The worst part is that I am seriously missing my afternoon nap at the moment and am practically listing.

I am feeling more baby action the last day or two, which is kind of nice. So, off to finish cooking some cranberries and then fall into bed. I have to pick Jason's parents up at the airport in the early am and then do the work thing for one more day. whew.

the final countdown

So many dirty dishes and so much dust and dog hair everywhere I just can’t see the end of it. On top of that I have some significant food shopping, prepping, organizing and cooking to do. Why oh why did this have to be the week I started in the office full time again? I have gotten way too used to working at home and having a flexible schedule and multi-tasking the house crap. I am not stressing out really but I am starting to fear that Jason’s parents are going to walk into total chaos on Wednesday morning unless a small to mediumish miracle appears in the next 24 hours. I’ll let you know.

19 days straight...

...and the things rattling around in my brain:

Today was one of those days when Henry seemed infinitely older and more capable than yesterday. He figured out that he can climb into his crib by himself and got completely undressed in about 15 seconds to take a shower. Both totally new and seemingly out of nowhere. He also said damn it.

I have to leave the house at 7:30 tomorrow morning to drop off Henry and be to work by 8:30. I haven't lived that sort of schedule in a very long time. I am not looking forward to it. This week will be short so I’m not too worried but working in the office and leaving Henry 4 days a week sounds like hell to me.

Henry has been waking up at 5:45 for the last few mornings and refuses to go back to sleep. I can’t describe how much this sucks. I really hope it doesn’t continue.

Shopping options for maternity clothing suck in Portland. The usual suspects suck and I can’t believe that big department stores don't have maternity clothes. Where do people shop? I ordered a bunch of crap from gap.com today. At least I can return it locally if it doesn’t work.

Sunday night tv is a major bummer.

My house is a mess and the dishes haven’t all been done in many days. Jason’s parents arrive in 2 days.

There is a lot of cleaning, shopping and cooking to be done around here. I really hope I feel alright and am up for it.

identity issues?

We all know that toddlers commonly speak in the third person. Henry has been dong so for about a year and we have become quite used to his statements and requests, e.g. “Henry eat apple” or “Henry wants to play trains.” Tonight however he again threw us for a loop. Jason and I were making our bed and Henry was hanging out in his crib playing peekie-book (have I mentioned that he is renaming things? It is no longer peek-a-boo in this house according to him) when Henry said, “daddy, get little boy out of crib.” We laughed and asked who the little boy was and he said “Henry!” Later he said, “little boy hiding under bed,” while he hid under the covers in our bed. Sort of funny but the more I replay it the more it freaks me out. Sort of split personality/horror movie like and usually he says “Henry big boy” anyway if the topic comes up. He is starting to say “I” and “me” on occasion and I’m not actually worried but I hope he doesn’t keep this up. I have enough bad dreams lately already.

the day's comedy

I picked Henry up this afternoon from my mom’s and made a couple of stops including Trader Joe’s. I am definitely not ready to have him wandering by my side through a crowded store. He yelled for cookies half of the time and people just aren’t accustomed to navigating around a two and a half foot tall person, even a well-behaved one. In any case, Henry and I got home and I went back out to the car to get a few more things. When I came back in he ran into the room with his Trader Joe’s balloon in hand somewhat out of breath. Of course, I asked what he had been doing and he he said, “whack dee dee balloon. Piss off dee dee.” I thought I must be hearing things but no, he repeated that he had been hitting the dog with the balloon and pissed her off. I found her hiding under the bed to corroborate the story. I can still hardly believe it. As I have said, I am constantly surprised that he hasn’t picked up many, if any, “bad words” but saying that he pissed off the dog strikes me as so random. He later repeated it to Jason. Generally he and the dog do pretty well together so I’m not too worried about whacking part but I am working with him on being nice to her all of the time.

On a completely different topic, Henry also cracked me up tonight at the dinner table. Jason got up to get something out of the kitchen and I turned around to talk to him, then as I turned my head back to the table I caught Henry in the corner of my eye stabbing a whole steak off the serving plate and putting it on his own. I guess he was hungry and I can’t really blame him. It was really good steak.

getting by

Rough day. Not feeling so hot. Need to sleep. Since there are words on the screen this has to count, right?

17 weeks

I had another appointment with the midwife today that went much better than the last. Wait, did I even mention the last? Probably not. Well, everything ended up fine but it was stressful and long and not so fun. So, this was an improvement for sure. Size is good. Heart rate (baby’s) is good. We heard lots of kicking and movement. My blood pressure is remaining good. She is happy with my diet and exercise (I really have been trying). Unfortunately, we both have small reason to believe that I am starting to not process major sugar (read holiday desserts) very well so I need to cut that out. I have been pretty good but damn if I don’t get into baking this time of year. I actually like the baking itself more than the eating, but who am I kidding, I will never totally forgo homemade dessert completely if it’s in the house. Thankfully I don’t think I have to but I know that it’s nutritionally worthless and I can certainly be very conservative in that department through the spring. So, all is well and I am a bit relieved for another month. Next time we should find out gender. Woo hoo!

no rest

I can’t catch a break today. Many annoying things happened with regular work and a consulting client today. Nothing major, just a lot of little annoying things to do and fix, which left me pretty grumpy by the end of the day. In addition, I was working at home this afternoon while Henry slept and some complete fucking lame-o knocked on the door to ask for god knows what and made the dog seriously freak out. As soon as I told her it was a bad time (is it ever really a good time to knock on people’s doors and ask for money. I say no.), and closed the door, Henry started screaming. He had been asleep about half as long as he needed and was in a bad mood. We suffered through the mood and I went into the office for a few things as soon as Jason got home at 4. When I got home we finished cooking dinner together and had a reasonable evening. I watched some tv and retired to write a post more interesting than this one. Unfortunately, I was reminded by an email from my boss at 8:30 tonight that I had forgotten to update a webpage that needs to be up now. So, I will do that instead of anything even slightly more thoughtful than this. I am just thankful that I can reply that there was a glitch and it is fixed. He will assume a technical glitch about which he knows absolutely nothing and I don’t have to lie outright or admit that I am just a flake right now. I think I can take one thing from this day and that is to finally get/make that “no soliciting” sign I keep thinking about. I am skeptical that it will make a difference but at very least it will fuel the fire of my indignation when it is disregarded.

the art of the spoken word

A: Hey, Henry. What does a panda bear eat?
H: panda bar eat bam-boob! (bamboo)

Recently when he wants something and I am in the other room Henry has taken to calling me “mommy-o.” I have no clue where that came from. In the same scenario with Jason, he simply yells “babe!” We can all guess where he got that one. When I am in the room, he constantly asks, “use me mommy,” by which he means excuse me, before asking for whatever it is he possibly wants. So cute it is hard to deny most requests, yet I hold strong and somehow manage to keep him from watching 10 hours of tv a day.

I have been working on pronunciation with him more because I know he has the capacity to say things more correctly but is in the habit of using his own versions of the word. I keep it light and a bit dramatic for fun and usually he’s happy to sound things out more carefully and is making good progress, that is, until he learned that he could just argue for his own pronunciation. No mama, “dur-kel.” Followed by much uproarious laughter. Of course, we were looking at circles.

the cadillac escalade of shopping carts

This afternoon, Henry woke up in a crabby ass mood and couldn’t be appeased very easily. He was still tired and hunger but didn’t want any food we had to offer. I needed a few things at Fred Meyer (local, well not locally owned anymore, big box grocery) so we made a family outing of it. When we got there Henry wanted to ride in one of the car shopping carts. Fine. We are no strangers to the car carts but had only used them at our local, fancy grocery store, where the car part takes up most of the cart and you end up with a small basket to put groceries. The Fred Meyer cart had a car part to ride in plus a regular sized cart. The thing was at least 6 feet long- the SUV of kid’s shopping carts and ridiculous to drive around the busy store. I have a feeling I would feel the same embarrassment, absurdity and glee driving a huge SUV down the road.

Clearly the kid needed a snack and I figured we would grab some crackers to eat while shopping but Jason had another idea. He and Henry went to the deli and ordered corn dogs. I wandered over as they were done ordering and ultimately ended up getting some jo jos. Henry commanded that we sit down and eat at the little area of tables between the deli and Starbuck’s counter. He meant business. I figured that if I couldn’t beat them I would join them and Jason and I shared some chicken strips too. So, we ate our fried food out of plastic bags before shopping and Henry devoured the whole damn chicken corn dog. Generally, I am not a fan nor a supporter of such eating for any of us. At that moment though it made me profoundly happy. It is the kind of thing that never happened and never could have happened in my family as a kid. My parents were and are healthy eaters to a fault and I ended up feeling deprived and afraid of a lot food over the years. Ultimately it wasn’t a healthy situation for me and I have had to really chart my own course when it comes to what I eat and how I think about food. Our non-organic, preservative-containing, fried snacks were an exception to the way we normally eat and that’s just fine with me. I would much rather eat crap occasionally and enjoy it instead of fear it. Hopefully Henry will end up with a balanced approach to food and never have to worry much about it.

We didn’t talk about any of this as we watched our kid devour a hot dog on a stick with ferocity but Jason did tell me that if I ever leave him he will go to Costco and buy a huge box of corn dogs and eat them for every meal of every day - his chosen means of self destruction. Thankfully for all of us, I am sticking around and there will be no boxes of corn dogs in anyone’s future.

falling into place

Things do seem to be looking up around here. I am feeling much better, if still a bit more tired than I would like. I just hired a new employee to replace a really bad one who just quit and I am really excited about the new person. She came through a recommendation from a friend and if everything works out this will be one of the easiest employee searches ever. I am going to have to be in the office quite a bit more for a month or so training her and the childcare issue was stressing me out. I finally sucked it up and called someone I thought had potential (she has done some other things for me) and she is totally available and happy to do a couple days a week at our house. I can’t imagine an easier or better childcare situation for us at the moment. I just wasn't able to put out an ad and find someone I didn’t already know in some capacity at this point, particularly given that this should be a somewhat short term situation. It looks like my plan to cut back hours a bit at the beginning of the year is falling into place better than I had imagined. I am appreciative of it all to say the least.

committing to bribery

I knew I kept the kid off candy up until this point for a reason. Today we had both pee and poop in the potty because I bribed him with chocolate covered pistachios. I am sick of diapers and losing some patience with the very slow potty training attempts. So, bribery it is. Unfortunately, later in the morning we also had major pee all over Jason’s office chair. After I cleaned it up he hesitantly looked up at me and asked for “pee pee candy” (his word creation, not mine). He didn’t seem too surprised that he didn’t get any but I couldn’t fault the kid for trying.

It’s only day 10 and this month of daily posting is kicking my ass. I am sorry to say that, really, this is the most I can muster today.

happiness comes from funny places

Sometimes I feel like such a sucker. I haven’t been feeling terribly thrilled about things in general lately (which has definitely changed since the cursed headaches went away). A few days ago we went to a local kitchen store for some tongs for Henry so he would stop taking mine from the kitchen. This isn’t the point I am getting to but the kid is amazing with kitchen tongs. He can pick up practically anything big or small around the house with them and amuses himself to no end eating veggie booty with them piece by piece. We found the tongs and then wandered for a few minutes. Nothing thrilling until I came upon the section of the store filled with Christmas stuff. I felt like the old kid in the candy store but not because I particularly wanted anything. All of the shiny red and green decorations and tableware and gadgets made me happy. Today I went into Starbucks for the first time in as long as I can remember. This is the sucker part of the post. I seriously found myself standing in Starbucks feeling joyful and spirited. Usually I find all of the holiday retail crap cheesy and annoying and too early but this year I guess I am just ready for it. It’s not the stuff itself but the reminder that a time I enjoy is right around the corner. Henry is going to love having a Christmas tree this year and we know we’re not traveling this year so the pressure is off. The promise of some down time with my little family (and probably some visiting relatives) is really appealing to me right now and if corporate America has to be my reminder of that, so be it.

unfounded fear

When I was thinking about getting pregnant again I had a little anxiety about how long it might take (I am such a planner) but knew from previous experience that it would probably happen and was prepared to be patient, as I had to be the first time. Well, it took all of a couple weeks, which surprised the hell out of me. This scenario (slow the first time, fast the second) was one I had heard about from several friends but what I wasn’t prepared for was the worry. As soon as I found out I was overcome with a sense of low-level uncertainty and worry. Not about the future or our lives or the commitment, simply about the health and wellbeing of this possible new child. Since I hadn’t been particularly worried about anything with Henry I worried that my nervousness was a sigh that something was wrong. No matter what I did I couldn’t shake it.

I started to mention it to my doctor and then midwife and then a few friends even though I was feeling paranoid and crazy. I was told by all that it is common to worry more with the second and that women just know more about what could go wrong the second time. I found this somewhat comforting in that I wasn’t alone but I still don’t buy into the rationale. My first pregnancy went fine, medically, and aside from what I’ve read on blogs I can’t say that I know much more about what could go wrong this time. The first time I read far more books and knew more about tests and timing, etc. It just doesn’t make sense that I should be more concerned after having a normal pregnancy, normal birth, and normal child. I am wondering if in my case it has to do with the first child himself. I think that my capacity for love and attachment and the desire to protect are so much stronger since his arrival in my life. My first pregnancy was full of naïve hope and anticipation of a complete unknown. This time I know a bit more about what I’m getting into and I’m scared as hell to get attached to this one in the same way when I can’t be certain everything will be okay. The first ultrasound did wonders for me and knowing that things looked good and normal and as expected relieved the majority of my fears. But as the weeks pass, I am feeling the need for confirmation again. We will have just one more ultrasound in about a month to determine gender and hopefully by then I will be feeling movement and that will suffice as my confirmation from that point forward. I know that my fears are not rational and deep down I really do think everything is fine, I just wish I could shake the uncertainty and move forward a bit more relaxed.

headaches no more?

Here’s a random pregnancy health/symptom update. A bit boring but I think I may have made a new discovery. During my last pregnancy I got migraine type headaches once every few weeks or so for a few months. I figured that if I took it easier this time and was even more careful about sleep and eating I could avoid most of them. Unfortunately I have been having headaches of varying degrees of severity most days for at least a month. I haven’t been able to figure out food or activity or sleep connections at all. It really sucks. I had a good week a few weeks ago and attributed it mostly to acupuncture. I had another treatment the following week and the headaches returned so I didn’t know what to think. In an attempt to wrap up this thrilling tale, I will just say that I finally may have an answer. I had been taking a folic acid supplement and I ran out of it for almost a week- the good week. It isn’t a direct connection but I think something in the supplement is a trigger for me. I stopped taking them late last week and I have had five decent days in a row, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for the previous five days. So, we’ll see how this continues. I am hopeful and will keep a closer eye on everything I consume for a while. I guess bad things can show up where you least expect them.

sushi satisfaction

"pum-keen" galore

I’m pretty set in my ways when it comes to the right way to cook certain things and usually that means doing it “from scratch.” It’s not really a philosophical position, it’s just the way I learned how. Cooking and eating haven’t been so easy lately though so I have accepted canned pumpkin into my kitchen. Henry loves the stuff and so far in the last month we have had pumpkin cookies, pumpkin pancakes and waffles, pumpkin sauce on pasta, and finally the pumpkin pie. I can’t say I can tell the difference between fresh and canned at all in the pie and man oh man was it quick. I didn’t have to think or plan ahead or break out the food processor. A one-bowl pie is about all I can ask for and a it was a great-tasting one at that. I guess sometimes being flexible has its perks.

This boy loves to cook.

In completely unrelated news, there was just a tiny earthquake in Portland. I thought it was wind rattling the windows but Jason jumped up and proved me wrong within a minute with the help of the glorious internets. It has been a few minutes and he is refreshing the number of responses being reported. If this doesn’t give you some real insight into the person I live with, I don’t know what will.

such a boy

When I was pregnant with Henry, I wanted a girl. A number of people with supposed intuitive powers told me I was going to have a girl. The first shot of the 20-week ultrasound proved us all wrong with a clear “penis picture.” Those were the doctor’s exact words. When we found out, one of the intuitives went so far as to say that he would be a very feminine boy. It took me awhile to adjust to the idea of a boy but by the time he was born it hardly crossed my mind. These days, he’s quite emotionally sensitive and a good sharer but he loves to fly through he air and run into things. He is amazing at figuring out mechanical things and has great fine motor skills and dexterity. He loves to throw and kick and hit things with other things (golf clubs/balls for example). Really I don’t ascribe these traits and tendencies as boy traits. They are such stereotypes and I hesitate to draw much meaning from them. But, when he was singing his favorite song, “happy birthday to you,” a few mornings ago and spontaneously concluded it with a loud and excited “happy birthday to you monkey poop,” I could no longer deny that this kid is a boy through and through. Boys are definitely different than girls and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

the difference a day can make

I can hardly believe how decent I feel today after a day of miserable headaches that lasted most of the night, exhaustion and vomiting, all out of nowhere. I’ve had a sinus cold for a week or so and I’m not sure if I got another virus or if it was just a pregnancy fluke. It was the worst day in recent memory but unfortunately there have been a lot of pretty crappy ones lately. I hate to admit it but I’m just not a good pregnant person. If the last one is a predictor, I should start feeling better in a month or two. The headaches are the real killer. I find myself envying so many women and being annoyed at so many experts who talk about how easy the second trimester should be. I keep hoping a shift is just around the corner and I keep seeking help but the bottom line is that I just have no idea how I am going to feel any given day. It makes it hard as hell to plan and get work done and take care of Henry but I don’t seem to have much say in the matter. All I can do is appreciate the good days and keep reminding myself that it will all be worth it in the end and that I am never going to go through this again.

halloween

We didn’t actually make it out of the house on Halloween but Henry was happy to give candy to the dozen or so trick-or-treaters who stopped by. Each time we were alerted to their arrival by Dee Dee’s frantic barking, Henry would yell, “Kids! Candy! Give kids candy!” He didn’t have a clue what he was missing but I’m happy to hold off on the bag of candy for another year until he actually cares. We did get out in costume to see some friends this weekend as evidenced by the leopard with the fake (but cute) smile.

posting, posting, posting

Ack. November is here already. I like a challenge so I decided to sign up for Mrs. Kennedy’s NaBloPoMo and post every day in November. This should be an interesting experiment considering how infrequently I have been managing to post lately. Hopefully for all involved it will mean that I have more interesting/funny/thoughtful things to say and don’t just resort to telling you how I slept and what I had for lunch. Really, I promise to do the best I can not to let that happen, but considering how important sleep and eating are to me lately, maybe I shouldn’t be making promises I’m not sure I can keep.