I just made cookies.
Why?
Because I wanted to eat some cookies and we didn't have any. So I made some.
Right now I am eating them, "Double Chocolate Chunk", while they are still warm with a cold glass of milk.
And no, I will not be looking up how many points I am ingesting.

See this?



This is the 325 foot hill that stands between me and the rest of the world today. (And yesterday. And several other days between now and say... the first snowfall of the season, not counting last year or the 3 winters before that.)

Oh yeah... Way Back Wednesday!!!!!!!


36 weeks pregnant with Abby


36 weeks pregnant with Wyatt

My brother recently called me to tell me that they are expecting a new baby girl in May. Another girl. They have a 5 year old girl. My sister has 2 girls, my other sister has 1 and I have 1. Fun. Lots of pretty little princesses.

Uncle Wardie & Aunt T
He's pointing at the new baby and she's wishing he wasn't.
"Why can't he just smile and take a nice picture?!"

When I asked him if he was relieved - I knew he was hoping for a girl, it's always nice to feel like you know what to expect and he is a very good daddy to his daughter - he said "yes. I feared projectile peeing."

Isn't it funny what people think of?

So, as I was changing my baby boy tonight, getting him ready for night-nights, I was looking at his little "stuff" and thinking "are you about to shoot me in the eye?" I think that most nights.
And considering he peed on me the second they pulled him out of my belly, literally - he peed all over my open gut - we thought we were really in for it.
And when he was a tiny baby he probably did pee a lot.
One time he did pee almost directly into my mouth. Amazing how fast and high that stream can come at you. Combine the speed and strength of that with the exhaustion and slow-moving-unable-to-think way about you in the weeks after giving birth, you're bound to get nailed. But I only remember that one time.
Maybe there were others but I only really remember that one time.

With my daughter, however, I remember several times that she was getting changed and I would be going about my duties, not even knowing that she peed until she is dry, clean and diapered and I go to pull her onesie and clothing back down and I feel that her entire back is soaked.

See, baby girls don't "shoot", they "spread".

If a baby boy pees, you know it, and you can follow the stream to clean up the target.
If a baby girl pees, she leaks downward and everything underneath her is soaked.

Anyway - with this impending new baby in our family, I finally have a reason to empty my house of all things "baby girl". I already have - and continue to empty all things "baby boy" for Baby Ben, Wyatt's bff. But now I can finally say goodbye to all the storage-sucking tidbits of baby girl stuff.

This is Baby Ben, after hours. What a sweetie pie in his sleeper, eh? Auntie Rach is holding him. You should save this picture, someone other than his mommy holding him is a rare occurrence.

If I have stuff that my new niece doesn't need or want, I can donate it. I can be done.
Jay is relieved. More storage space! Hooray.
I was excited too, I am happy to be passing my stuff on and happy to have the storage room, too. But as I gather stuff up and pack it to go - I am feeling very sad... I really am done having babies.

We have two perfect, gorgeous, amazingly fabulous, delicious and wonderful babies. We're done. We're blessed. We're happy. We're content.
So, why so blue, Panda Bear?

My addiction to Facebook lately has sidetracked me from my Blogging duties.
My apologies.

Michele has informed me that I have crossed a line on Facebook. I have to agree. I'm hooked. I should quit cold turkey. For now, I just took it out of my Bookmarks. We'll see if that helps.

Anyway - my Big Girl's birthday is all wrapped up and put away. Today she was collecting all the mostly-dead balloons and putting them in the kitchen garbage telling me "my birfday is all ovah, mommy. I am puttin' these in the trash." Yes, half-inflated balloons. No, she didn't fit more than a few. But I appreciated the effort.

At 3 years old she is 38 inches tall and 38 pounds. Hysterical.
And perfect.

Wywy is equally perfect at 24 pounds.

This weekend I was exhausted and emotional and now I'm sick. Exhausted and emotional usually precede "sick". But you know what else preceded sick in this instance? In October we hosted 40+ people for Wyatt's first birthday. In November we hosted 30+ for my mother-in-law's 60th. We hosted Christmas Eve for 20. And this past weekend we had Abby's 3rd birthday party and while we invited about 44, only about 32 came. phew.
On top of those, throw in regular holiday hoopla, charity drives and baking and shopping and wrapping and cap it off with Jay's new job with all the new travel.

We haven't stopped since October. September if you want to include the 3-week trip to Amsterdam. No wonder I am freakin' wiped. I am taking it easy for a while. For a long, hermit-like while.

Here are a few pics from the big party:

In ten minutes, 3 years ago, I remember saying "is it too late to change my mind? can I have that epidural now?"
I had been in labor for about 9 hours, I had really intended to do it "au natural". I had a "birth plan". I had Monks Chanting on my IPod and kept the lights low.
I bounced on the ball and crouched by the end of the bed. I walked and walked and walked... I sat on the toilet about 44 times thinking I had to crap but no, I just really wanted to push. (It really feels the same.)
And you know what?
In about 7 hours, 3 years ago, my baby girl was born.
I had been sleeping rather peacefully for a few hours, epidural in place, husband by my bedside, a nervous wreck. And Dr. Grant came to me and said "things are not going as well as we had hoped. you should be progressing much faster than you are and your baby girl is not comfortable in there. I think it's time we do a cesaerian."
I remember looking into her face. I remember feeling a quick, deep shot of fear. And then, as if we were on a sitcom I remember Dr. Grant saying to Jay "I think someone needs a hug."
bwahahahahahahahaaaaaa!!! Can you imagine?! Telling my husband, MY husband, that I, I, need a HUG?! ew.
It was just the right amount of funny at a very scary moment.
Long story short - Abigail Jeanne was born at 4:50am on January 23rd, 2006 via emergency C-section. She came out screaming, gorgeous and perfect.

In these 3 years I have watched her grow and learn. I have watched every second of her life. Every moment. Every milestone. I am home with her, I am with her. I am so very blessed and so very grateful that I am able to dedicate my life to her (and to her brother). She has and is becoming this amazing little person. She is kind, sensitive, funny, thoughtful, respectful, beautiful and smart. So smart that we can see how trouble may be brewing for us in the future. But you know what? I'll take it. I'll take every bit of trouble she wants to hand me. Her independence, her intelligence, her confidence. I will take whatever they can hand me. And then some.

Tomorrow is her birthday. Tomorrow I will celebrate her all day long. She is so excited. I am so excited. Her Daddy will come home and he is so excited for her, too.
Saturday is her party. A Princess Party. And she is beside herself with excitement.
I am cooking, baking, cleaning and decorating. And she is dancing and singing and laughing and playing.

Life is Good.

then

now

I want to copy Gini and Kimmie but I'm a day late, so I present you with:

Way Back Wednesday

April 2002
This was our first apartment, we lived in it for just over a year before we bought "Yellow House".

A Cry for Help. Part II
Just an update to let you know that I have not, in fact, done a damn thing this week to make myself healthier. So, fuck off.

A cry for help.
When you have gotten so fat that you know that only peer pressure and your own big mouth will get you out of it - you join Weight Watchers and tell the world via your Blog.
So, here I am.
I weighed in this morning. I weigh more than I ever have, non preg.
Oddly enough, I am not uncomfortable or embarrassed by that, I just don't want to HAVE to buy new pants and my current ones are too tight.
So, I am looking for one of those little widget-thingies to track my weight loss. I figure sharing with the world will help keep me on track. I don't lie so if I slip up, you'll know it.
I won't put a starting weight or a goal - that's none of your damn biz-nitch. But my losses (and gains) will be posted.
Now - if you have any good recipes, healthy and preferably easy, please send them my way. Leave it on the comments or email me with them. However you prefer.
Thanks in advance for your help. And if you want to join this Loser-Train, I will post the widget later this afternoon (or right now) and you can add it to your page, too.

***Edited to add - the tracker I found might suck. I won't know till next Sunday!!

I just sat down at my kitchen island, stack of bills, checkbook and laptop.
Oh - and a tall glass of milk and 2 brownies.
My question to you is this: Is taking 2 brownies right from the start "piggish" or just plain "realistic"? I mean, come on.

It's January.
New budget, new bills and of course, property taxes are due.
Lots to do... lots to look at... lots to balance and write out and figure and ... well, do...

So, here I am. Blogging.

Today was icy and cold and rainy. I love winter when it's windy and snowy and cold. I hate icy, rainy cold, though. You can't do anything fun. You can just stay in your house.
And school was canceled so I had Q & KP. So while that is enough for my kids - having them around - they are bored with a capital B.
Q found a way out - she is old enough to walk to a friend's house.
KP was not so lucky. We did try, though.
Around 2 I decided I had had enough of the "I'm bored" and "why can't I walk to so-and-so" and I said "ok, fine, I will attempt to drive up the driveway."
That was a miserable experience. One I knew would be miserable but my husband said "well, it's warmer there than here and we only have slush" and I knew that for an 8 year old, seeing is believing, even if he doesn't like what he sees. So, I slipped and slid up and the back down my driveway a few times to prove that I am not, in fact, completely mean and unfair.
At 2:30 I said "let's go" and I got everyone decked out for a walk in the freezing, slippery, icy rain.
I put snowsuits, gloves & boots on, loaded them into the wagon and headed up the hill. But I have to admit I knew it was a bad idea. We didn't even get as far as I did when I tested it out in the car. I was sliding, couldn't pull the wagon and when I tried to walk in the snow and pull the wagon up the ice next to me, it tipped and Wyatt fell directly on his head. Abby rolled a few times in her snowsuit and then proceeded to make snow angels.
It was not a good idea.
But look how cute my kids looked:

So, when all was said and done, Abby, Wyatt and I sat down for dinner.
I had intended to make spaghetti and meatballs but only when the water was boiling did I look to find out we had no spaghetti. In fact, the only choices I had were the pastas from a couple boxes of "Suddenly Salad" or a box of lasagna.
I went Lasagna.
I have made it before and I recognize that I am very bad at making it so, what the hell, might as well try it just broken up, boiled and saucy - that is pretty much what my lasagna is anyway!
It was good. It was weird. But it was good.
Wyatt loved it, in fact. He ate more tonight than usual, he is a pretty picky guy. Bananas and Bread - that's pretty much the extent of it for him.

And here is my last tidbit for you tonight. It's a juicy one, too...

"I'm getting my booger, mama. It's in this hole and it's touching my eye."

Can you believe my baby girl will be THREE in a few weeks? I can't. She is so smart and gorgeous and independent and brave and confident and all things that a mommy wants their baby to be.
And I find myself thinking "oh, please, hold onto that!" AND I find myself thinking "how can I nurture all of those positive traits while keeping her sweet and polite and NOT completely stubborn and independent with all that confidence and intelligence?!?"
Yikes.
Being a mother is not for the faint of heart. Or the LAZY!
Let's stroll down memory lane a little, shall we?

March, 2006. If anyone came NEAR my precious newborn, I FREAKED the FUCK out! (Seriously, I had issues.)


Christmas, 2006 - 11 months old. (Coincidentally, Wyatt got a lot of wear from that sleeper this year.)


Summer, 2007 - she is about 19 months here.


Yes, I paid for this professional portrait for her 2nd Birthday!


This is from this past July, when I decided to cut Abby's hair myself. Curls are very forgiving.

So, I talked to Deborah this morning... we talk at least once a week. Sometimes we get very busy and we miss a week. Sometimes we are bored and talk 5 times ina week. It varies but we stay in touch with eachother's day to day very well, considering we live on separate continents.
So, she and her hubby were getting ready for a datenight and the sitter was on the way and they still hadn't decided what to do with their alone time.
I think we all know that WHAT you do is not nearly as important as just doing it.
But, that's not my point. At all, actually. Man, I am so scatterbrained tonight.
My point is this... they have a sitter. They trust her, they use her pretty regularly.
How do you find a sitter that you can truly trust and feel confident to leave with your children? I mean, obviously, my niece and nephew are adorable. I am sure they are very well behaved for the sitter, I know their parents are not pushovers. And I have no doubt that whomever babysits them loves them and barely considers it work.
But what about those kids out there that aren't so cute? Aren't so good? What about the smelly, annoying, rude kids?
Are we so blind to our own children's annoying traits? What if they are not as cute as we think?
or-
Do people with kids that are ugly or annoying or smelly or just plain unlikeable, know it?
Do you think there are people out there who look at their kids and think "I love you more than life itself - but let's face it, you ain't winning any contests for prettiest baby or best kid to hangout with, so let's just try to get by with what you've got and we'll figure it out as we go?!"

I don't know... I am just glad that MY kids are so freakin' awesome.

Oh yeah, one last thing - one of my fav-o-rite books ever is coming out in the movies!!!
From the commercials, the main character does not seem to have a British accent which is ridiculously WRONG, but I am still so excited to see it!
Shopaholic!!!!

(Written yesterday, New Year's Eve morning)

As I sit and watch the snowfall, Wyatt constant with the "ma-maaaa" for no apparent reason other than he can, sipping my eggnog coffee and getting ready to ring in the New Year... it got me thinking-

I had a very nice day yesterday.
We went to my Auntie Carol's house for Christmas. I hadn't seen my brother and his family yet and it was nice to see them. My niece is getting so big and her little personality is really taking flight.
My aunt has a way about her that makes Paninis and Tomato soup feel gourmet on paper plates.
I adore my aunt. And it occurred to me, after many years of feeling guilty about over-liking my aunt, worrying that my mom felt jealous - it occurred to me that, maybe, my nieces adore me. Maybe, the love you feel for your mom is one thing - a constant, comfortable, predicatable love. But the love and attention you get from you aunt - while it is constant - it can be unpredicatble because you don't live with her, you don't know her as well and each thing she does or says is new and exciting. And different.
Different fromt he way your mom loves you - and different from the way your mom shows you.
My aunt and uncle have a beautiful home. It is a center-hall colonial but the staircase turns and has a landing, it doesn't shoot straight down.
Each bit of wall connects with intricate moldings to the ceiling. Shelves and bookcases are built in, not leaning on. The walls and ceilings are stenciled, not papered or popcorned.
And the decorating is meticulous.
I would say, in a sarcastic, cynical tone "it helps that her boys are grown and out of the house" but, actually - their house was like that even when we were kids.
I wonder if my fascination with my aunt (it started when I was a kid, it's not a new thing) was preserved because there were a lot of years when she not a part of my life. I wonder if my childhood adoration was kept fresh because she cut out when I was in my teens and cut back in in my mid-twenties.
Maybe one day I will dig down deep and Blog that one, but likely not - it's personal and some things, family drama details and sex lives, for example, simply don't get discussed here on The Raft.