Around here, this is what romance looks like

Last night the baby wouldn't sleep again. (Don't ask me why. I'm fresh out of ideas.) Jesse and I were rotating soothing duty around 2 a.m., and I got on the computer to check on some Christmas gift shipping statuses. Somehow I ended up reading our e-mails from five years ago.

Can you say nauseating? I mean, really. "I can't wait to see you for lunch in three minutes." "You just left and I already miss you." I got back in bed with the hubby and told him about a few. We laughed at how silly we were back then and giddily mocked ourselves.

A few minutes ago I found this photo on my camera. This was taken on our anniversary a few weeks ago. Right before this picture was taken, I was pouting in our bedroom about how there was too much to do with the baby and we wouldn't have time to go out. Jesse dear took action in his own hands.

I still remember the feeling in my stomach every time I got an e-mail from Jesse in 2005. I remember my heart fluttering every time he told me he wanted to marry me. Even better, I remember feeling like I would burst with joy the day he actually lived up to his word. Four years later, and he's still got it. And when I look at things like this, I'm pretty sure I've never found him more attractive.

Love (?) letter

Yes, yes, I know I've done this before, but it's the only thing I keep thinking about. Besides, this blog seems to have been missing something (content?), so here we go.

If present me had written past me a letter a week ago, it might have looked like this.

Dear Boo:

Rest up. You're going to need it. I know that your darling daughter has finally resumed her normal (read: LENGTHY) sleeping patterns after the seventh circle of teething hell, but it's all about to change. Again.

While you are basking in the post-Thanksgiving joy at your parents' house, don't feel bad for not leaping out of bed at the little one's first squawk around 7:30. Don't feel guilty about sleeping in until -- GASP -- 8:30 on the weekends. Cherish her silence and ability to soothe herself.

You will start noticing her cold symptoms around the same time you plan on going back to Boise. In the middle of the week, as you frantically line up babysitters, align crazy work schedules, try getting your car out of the shop and pray for good roads in the midst of Blizzard Fest 2010, the wee one will have a runny nose.

"Sure," you will think, "A runny nose is nothing to worry about. I plan to head home to reunite with the hubby tomorrow, anyway." But no! You won't! Another blizzard will come to Boise! This is when you will be thankful for your tendency to overpack. Instead of braving the roads home, you will cry all the way out to your gracious sister-in-law's house the next morning before an unexpected day of work in the eastern side of the state. You will spend the rest of the day offering prayers of gratitude that you and baby are still alive.

Another day after that, your car will have a shiny new transmission and the roads will seem safe enough to travel.

Don't fall into a false sense of security when you arrive home. The baby may seem healthy. You might have a productive morning. You might even think you will be able to make sense of the huge mess that is your apartment. You may even have the hubris to assume that decorating is in the realm of possibility.

Then the baby will wake at night, and she will cry. No, no. She will scream. For hours she will scream. And you will be helpless to fix it. She won't have the classic signs of an ear infection. She won't have a fever. She won't tug on her ears. But something inside you will just know.

Don't be afraid to take her to the doctor on a Saturday. Don't listen to the snotty nurse who makes comments like, "Oh really? Not tugging on her ears? Hmm..." or "Wow, she doesn't feel warm AT ALL." When the doctor takes one look and says, "Oh, that's bad. That's definitely infected." And then finds infection in the other ear, you will try not to internally gloat to said nurse over your poor little one's ill health.

You really should take the time to rest and nurse your own cold. You should watch the Little Mermaid with the baby. You shouldn't be afraid to "spoil" the child by letting her sleep in your bed.

I hate to tell you this, but you will be exhausted. And you will have plenty of moments where you will feel like a deficient wife and mother. You won't get your Christmas gifts up. Both girls for whom you were making those great baby shower gifts will give birth this week, and you will feel like a failure for not having finished those projects. You will feel overwhelmed by a million other To-Dos that are pushed aside. You will spend much time acknowledging that you are a flat-out terrible single parent.

But you will learn that you can sing a furious baby to sleep. You will learn that you can survive on very little sleep. You will actually make it to the grocery store. You will retain the gratitude you felt during the Thanksgiving holiday through it all. You will travel safely on very treacherous roads. You will find, once again, that you and Jesse are a dynamic duo. And most importantly, my friend, you will survive. And I think (I can't tell you for sure just yet), you will be even stronger for it all.

But for now, you will just want to rest up. Best of luck,

Boo

In case we don't return...

Remember us at our best.

And pray for us as we brave treacherous roads... Oh, and happy holidays, too.

Sweet way to start the day

Maybe you're like me, and you woke up to a baby who mysteriously ended up in bed with you. You'll later learn that you brought her to bed around 1 a.m. because you didn't have the presence of mind to get her to go back to sleep in her own bed. Anyway, you wake up because she's pulling your hair, clawing your face and kicking you in the back. So you bring her out into the living room and decide to set her down with some toys so you can use the restroom. You think you're safe.

You forget your husband left half of a Twix bar on top of the end table in the living room.

You come back out to see her relishing every moment with this candy bar. You remember all the work you and your husband have put into keeping foods like this out of the baby's mouth. But then you see the look of pure joy on her face. And you laugh.

And though she pretends to feel guilty for the camera, you know that your little family's battle between sugar and sanity has begun.

And I'm back in the game...

WE HAVE INTERNET!!! Can you hear the angels singing? Can you hear the children rejoicing? Oh so much has happened, and I have had virtually no means of communicating.

But to tide you over, here's this little nugget. Our little McNugget in her Halloween costume.

(But now I'm wishing I'd dressed her up as a McNugget. How cute would that be?)

Maturation, or something like it

So, I like to think we've been doing some growing up lately. And not just Penelope, though she has hit some milestones. What's that? You're DYING to hear all about them? OK, well, if you're going to force me.

She has started enunciating her baby language. She forms actual syllables, and we can now officially claim to have heard her say "dada" and "mama," though she certainly didn't say them in any particular context. (Except for mama. Obviously she says that with more love than you could fathom.) She has figured out how to feed herself the little baby snacks. And she's only choked on one -- and I didn't completely pee my pants when it happened. She seems to process when we're frustrated or upset with her, and it makes me rethink my knee-jerk response to a lot of things.

She got her first balloon. Had we let her, I'm pretty sure she would have taken it to bed with her and lovingly stroked it all night à la Gollum and The Precious.

She also got her first glamour shot taken. It makes me want to die. In a great way.

It just seems like every day she gets exponentially older, more intelligent, more curious, more talented, more entertaining, and I just want to eat every moment up.

But, as I mentioned, this post isn't about her. It's mostly about me. Me trying to start some family traditions. Like family photos, even when I feel chubby chubby chubby. I know I will want to look back and see what our little family was like, and how genuinely happy we were even though we had little more than each other. Probably because we had little more than each other.

We're trying to make grown up decisions, like waiting to buy a house until it's the right time for us. Even though we want one so badly, and the market is right, and technically we probably could pull it off -- though it would cause so much stress financially -- yadda, yadda, yadda. We decided to follow the counsel that sometimes saying I love you is saying "we can't afford it."

I'm letting go. I've decided to stop blaming my frustration and shortcomings on others for things that happened aeons ago. I'm forgiving. I'm focusing inward. I don't like everything I see there, but it's getting better.

And you know what I'm learning in all of this growing up I'm trying to do? Sometimes growing up really sucks.

But I know I'm a better person for it. I know my marriage is stronger for it. And I know I'll be a better mother for it. And right now, that's better than anything. Even a house (she said reassuringly to herself). Yes, even a house.

Defiance: A genetic defect?

I still remember the day I first felt truly defiant. (Well, the first day I can remember, of course.) I must have been, oh, six, and I had watched entirely too many dramatic stories on television of young runaways. After my mother delivered what I perceived to be a vicious injustice, I stormed off to my room, packed a few necessary belongings into my baby blanket, searched the room for a toy broom to tie the package onto all hobo-style, and marched back to the front door. I looked up at the kitchen only to see my mom busily doing the dishes.

Who did she think she was? A mother of five? (Or maybe it was six by then, the timeframe really is blurry.) Giving it an Oscar-worthy, "goodbye-cruel-world" performance, I painfully sighed, "I'll see you in twenty years."

She turned off the sink and looked at me. Immediately I understood this to mean that she felt all the pain that would exist in her life without me. I felt her begging me to stay and remain the vital part of our family that I was. I felt her apologizing. Then she spoke.

"Did you say something?"

"Yes mom," I thought, "your apology is acceptable. Thank you for understanding your error. I would like to spend the night in my warm bed now."

But all I sighed was, "no."

I don't know why this story has been running through my head lately. Perhaps it's because Penelope had her first truly defiant moment the other night: refusing to swallow her food.

Like mother, like daughter.

Note: Please ignore the obviously bad parenting and filming in this video. Also, did you notice how Jesse is all worried she might be sick, and I immediately just wanted it on film? Man, he really is a better parent than I am.

The best part of waking up

In case you don't know yet, naps are heaven sent. Of course I enjoy my hours of alone time (aka the only time I have to clean up before the next wave of crazy starts), but what's even better is that the baby always wakes up a different -- generally happier -- beast than she was when I put her down.

If you are in our house, you will most likely find her like this after a nap. I guarantee that you cannot stay frustrated when you walk in to the little face.

And while I would love to tell you that Penelope always wakes up all smiles and sunshine, that really isn't true. Sometimes she wakes up like this. Congested, runny nose, exhausted, miserable.

That's what happened in our house this week. But we spent the whole day like two little slugs, watching Gilmore Girls (the ultimate sick day TV programming. Penelope would back me up on this one), manually removing snot from a baby's nose, and comforting said child from the agony of her first head cold.

Sometimes, however, you put your child down for a nap just to get a break from her cranky, teething attitude. And after deciding you are slightly less exasperated, you might peek in to see her peeking right back at you.

And then you immediately take a photo to document her beautiful, raw silliness.

No matter what, it truly is the beginning to a new day (or afternoon, or two hours until the next nap).

NOW FOR SOMETHING ENTIRELY DIFFERENT

husband: What is that?

me: It's the Halloween costume I got for Penelope.

husband: Yeah, but what IS it?

me: It's a peacock.

husband: That's NOT a peacock.

me: Why not?

husband: When have you ever seen a peacock with a human face peeking out of its neck? It's terrifying!!!

Conclusion: Our difference of opinion wasn't resolved. However, we did agree on a new costume for the baby. Pictured peacock costume has been returned to the store. (But I still claim it is awesome.)

Before the opportunity slips through my fingers

Jesse has started school again. That means he is now MORE than half-way through his doctorate of pharmacy program. Let's each take a minute to reflect on that accomplishment.

I'm trying to stay positive about this back-to-school business because this means that I now hardly see Jesse. Even worse, I mean ALMOST as bad, I never get to see the computer. Since my computer is still patiently waiting to be exhumed from its box out in the garage, we have been sharing Jesse's laptop since our move to Boise. But with Jesse taking his computer to school all the time, "sharing" might be an overstatement of my relationship with the computer.

Except for tonight. Tonight Jesse is at work. And the baby decided to be a little beast and barely nap this afternoon, so she was down by 7:30.

So, it was either blog or watch "America's Got Talent." Come on, who wouldn't choose blogging?

Want a more interesting post? Pray that the bank accepts our counteroffer on a little home so I can unpack the femputer and keep my blogging skills fresh. You know you want to.

Half Birthdays *or* Carrying on the Tradition

Each February 17, I would get excited to remind everyone that it was my HALF BIRTHDAY! Well, Penelope was this close to being born on my half birthday. Luckily, she had the decency to come a early and save the day for me.

Well, today is Penelope's HALF BIRTHDAY. If you can believe it. I don't want to drone on and on about everything she does (because I know that I'm just about the only one that cares), but in six short months, she has become one of my best friends. And the best thing I've ever done.

We love you, Littles.

Collecting no moss (I hope)

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

That's all little Penelope is doing these days. First she learned how to roll from her belly, onto her left side, onto her back. Then she learned how to roll from her back, onto her right side, onto her belly again.

Folks, this is what we call a log roll. And this is what my daughter does all.day.long. Until she would get in situations like this.

We thought things were under control. She would get caught under a chair, against the wall, etc., and then she would scream. But then she started getting curious. And then her fingers were all over everything.

We soon realized that our current abode is NOT baby-proofed, and we fear we are eerily close to the little one sticking her fingers in something hazardous. (But we may just be every bit the part of paranoid, first-time parents my older siblings try to explain we are.) Instead of buying the $5 plastic things you stick in outlets that save your child from electrocution, this was just the needle on boo's back that convinced me: We need our own place.

It's not that we aren't over-the-moon-grateful for the current space. With my parents' generosity, the price for staying in their condo is more than right. But we hate the idea of getting too comfortable. Of overstaying our welcome. Of never breaking out the crib we bought for our baby about a year ago. Of having our new couch stay wrapped in plastic in the garage forever. Of spending half of my child's early years driving in the car between our home, my sister's home, and jesse's and my respective places of work.

So we hope to roll on. We've put in an offer to buy (yes, BUY) a home. But it's a short-sale, and the pace seems to be slower than the crawl Penelope is now working on. So we may end up renting after all. Until then, I am learning more every day that home is where my heart is. And even though all of my things are in a combination of storage units, garages, and boxes around the house; I'm happy to be making our memories here.

But a girl can dream...

Right?

jersey shore takes boise

why not? i've heard rumor that the new season is in miami.

(à la melissa, the video is but 6 seconds)

in short

any idea why i sound like shakira when i sing along to this?

probably for the same reason i am terrible at this blogging thing: too much time in the car.

i get to spend about six solid hours in transport tomorrow, but it will all be worth it: time with the auntie, time with the besties and a potential stop at ikea. oh utah, here we come!

capital punishment

i learned this month that it drives jesse crazy when people don't capitalize things. he hinted at it when he mentioned my blog the other day. "there seems to be a wave of girls who don't capitalize things or punctuate as a 'style,'" he said disdainfully.

don't get me wrong, there is certainly an important function that capitalization serves. and at work, i am impeccable about capitalizing things.

I swear I know how to do it.

i could pretend that i don't do it here because of some sort of rebellious spirit, but i'm really just lazy. and really, if it bothers the husband that much, perhaps i will start writing properly on this-here forum.

now, i don't mention this because i think you are all-consumed with whether or not i should capitalize. in fact, the great question ("to capitalize, or not to capitalize") doesn't phase me.

what i find interesting is that i thought we had reached a point where i understood everything about my husband. but for three-and-a-half years of our marriage and this blog, i had never heard of this pet-peeve.

and i kind of like that i learned something new about him. So honey, I promise I will try.

working overtime

it's been a lot of hard work around here.

learning how to play by ourselves.

holding back the excitement at a bestie's wedding.

filling out endless paperwork to finally start a new job. (hooray, husband!)

growing up to be of average height (around 50th percentile), slightly above average weight (97th percentile) and stellar intelligence (demonstrated by head circumference that is just off the charts) at just four months.

gearing up to (hopefully) move for the seventh time during our three-and-a-half years of wedded bliss.

trying to roll over.

and finally doing it for the first time.

holding back the urge to post that picture of the baby's plumber's crack for almost two weeks.

and learning how to get rid of our old blog template that is apparently hardwired to this blog. you will notice that i need to do a lot more hard work around here to finish that one. ideas?!?

until then, we'll just keep chipping away at the important things. like getting dressed in the morning.

for father's day: reflections a day or so late

the summer after i graduated from high school, i dated a boy for about half a minute. he was handsome, funny, crazy smart and completely inspiring. one night we sat on my parents' trampoline and he told me all about the happenings at his job -- working at the movie theater.

a little boy got lost and couldn't find his parents. he approached the strapping at-the-moment boyfriend and asked him for help. said hunk proceeded to take the chap up on his shoulders and walk him around the theater while they searched for his parents. he kept the kid laughing until the parents were located. all was well. and he described all the events like they were truly blissful.

so things didn't work out between us at the time, but we stayed friends. and he kept on being wonderful with children. he gave my nephews the best birthday presents and piggy back rides. they adored him and so did i. and i knew i wanted to marry someone like that. someone who, like my daddy, understood the importance and honor of being a good father.

luckily for me, i did. i really think my husband is one of those men that was born to be a father.

don't you? happy father's day to you men out there.

(p.s. in case you didn't catch it, jesse was aforementioned summer boyfriend. clear now?)

snapshots (sort of)

i blame the rain

thank goodness we have a holiday tomorrow.

i know, i know

i'm not a great blogger. the posts are becoming increasingly less frequent and interesting.

you just have to accept that.

but i feel you might take pity on me for some of the following reasons:

• i am working full time these days. and it is awful. luckily, i have a very attractive live-in nanny. (i don't want to get too descriptive, but i think he might kiss me if i play my cards right.)
• penelope is getting over her first sickness. this is terrible in itself, but even worse knowing that jesse is the one taking care of her all day while i am at work. at the height of the illness, i came home at lunch for some hardcore snuggling. she cried until i gave her back to jesse. i might have cried a little on my way back to work.
• we are moving to boise next weekend (hooray!)
• we are moving next weekend (ugh... packing...)
• i am throwing a bridal shower for the sweetest libby in the whole wide world (hooray!)
• i am throwing a bridal shower the same weekend i am moving (ugh... what was i thinking? last time i checked, i do make my own social schedule.)
• i am changing my work location (see boise note) and cutting my hours, but still retaining about the same work load. i will be overwhelmed, but now i will only overwhelmed for five hours a day at work, and the rest of the time at home with the little one.

isn't this just how life seems to go? busy, busy, busy. i am seriously craving a nap. and some downtime with emily dickinson.

p.s. did i mention it has been snowing here? SNOWING in late may. at this rate, this little girl is going to outgrow all her summer clothes before the sun comes out.

mothering through the generations

i am learning how to be a mother. unfortunately, there was no specialized training to prepare me for this venture (though aunthood certainly helped). this is unfortunate, because sometimes i think i make a better student than functioning adult.

yesterday, i was reminded that i come from a line of wonderful mothers. and not to be too biased, but i really think i am learning from the best.

(can you believe that my sweet mother is my age in this picture? what lovely young beauty! and how precious is little cameron?!?)

and sure, i may have accidentally dropped the remote on my baby's head while nursing her. or maybe i did call her a poo face angrily and (kind of ) meant it because she wouldn't stop crying. the good news is that while i am learning on the job, i get to learn on the best.

happy mothers' day to mothers (and aunts and sisters and friends and inspiring women) past, present and future.

captain's log

sad today that the baby is officially a size bigger than she used to be. car seat straps, jacket, jammies, everything.

even sadder that i am still at least two sizes bigger than i used to be.

on a much more important matter, i am finding at least twice as much snuggle time in my daily life.

it's totally worth it.

evensong

we have started whispering all the time to each other when the baby is asleep. even when we are in a completely different part of the house where she couldn't possibly hear us.

i am even typing this quietly.

you see, when your two-month-old daughter no longer fits into her 0-3 months clothes and is in the 96th percentile weight range for her age, you fear what happens when you wake a sleeping (though admittedly adorable) mini-giant.

(no, honey, this isn't the same photo i promised you i wouldn't put on my blog. she looks really terrifying/hilarious in that one, but i picked this much more tame version. i promise.)

will the real penelope please spit up?

let's clear the air

there has been some recent speculation that this lovely lady

(penelope A)

was named after this lovely lady.

(penelope B)

and while i can't deny that i utterly adore both of them, the fact is that they are both named after this lovely lady.

(penelope classic)

think about it -- she faithfully waits for odysseus AND she's a pretty awesome weaver. in fact, penelope means weaver (according to some weird baby name sites, it also means duck. which i guess is also awesome).

the weaving thing might seem silly, but did you know that there is a long, long literary history behind the use of weaving as a metaphor for poetry? it's true. i actually wrote a 20-page essay about it in graduate school (wordsworth was quite the fan of this metaphor). in short, the weaver is the first poet -- weaving individual strands/words together to craft a beautiful final product.

and my own little penelope is the result of weaving together so many of my own tender life experiences. she is the product of so many prayers, hopes, agonizing workouts to keep my blood sugars in line, tears, negative pregnancy tests, tears, prayers, all-night talks with jesse, and (did i mention this already?) more prayers. and she's more beautiful and precious than i could have ever imagined. and i can't wait to see how her individual life experiences weave together and create a beautiful woman.

now that we have cleared that up, onto some adorable displays of babiness from the littlest penelope (mostly so i have something to watch at work tomorrow when i am missing her terribly.)

and p.s. my first day back at work today was fine, as any sane person would have guessed. the crazy woman writing this post is ridiculously relieved.

and p.p.s. how awesome was last week's episode of LOST? i have been dying to say something on here about it. let's just say that penelope and desmond melt my heart. and i can't wait for tonight's episode.

you'll be relieved to know

my body has been slowly bouncing back. don't get me wrong, i still have quite a bit of pregnancy weight to go, but my feet and face have returned to normal size. i'm quite glad as i had nearly forgotten what my ankles looked like.

the easter bunny did, in fact, visit our home. sure, we don't have space for anything in this house, but he somehow managed to squeeze his fluffy behind into the house to deliver penny's goods. however, the easter bunny was much lazier this year than i remember, because he brought the whole family's goodies in one basket. (i guess he didn't want to go digging through boxes in the basement to find everyone's basket...)

but don't worry. the little one was quite content to just play with her own bunny on easter morning.

we even got a photo of penelope enjoying easter ham in her easter dress with her easter papa.

should you need to take nail polish out of your mom's carpet after you indulge yourself with a home-grown pedicure during general conference, i have the answer: shaving cream. i kid you not. it worked like a charm. however, perhaps the best way to ensure your carpets are nail-polish-free is to check the lid of the bottle before moving it, thereby preventing spills in the first place. you know, the best defense is a good offense.

(see above foot photo for reference on the color of aforementioned nail polish)

penelope was blessed in church last week. i have tried to write about seven posts about that wonderful experience, but they have all been a bit too personal/emotional. i mean, with a little face and spirit this beautiful in our home, can you really blame me for getting choked up? so, i will try to keep the wonderful feelings from that day in a more private place and share a photo instead.

i am going back to work in eight days. if you are, in fact, relieved to know this, please let me know how we can somehow swap our emotions. at first, i was thrilled to have something to do every day and a reason to shower regularly. but now that i have considered the fact that penelope will be going somewhere else, and i will be missing every detail of her life, i am terrified and anxiety-ridden at the thought of work. how does one cope with this?

until i figure it out, i'll be relieved that i have such a blissful life for today.