Hello!

Remember me? I didn't think so.

Let's give this thing another shot ...

www.motherhoodillustrated.blogspot.com

relief is ...

When your kid finally eats a waffle after not eating anything solid for almost three days. No matter if she smears it into the ottoman.

nummy nummy

Ok, a little lag time after the last post, but nevertheless, I am still here and will now post. The conference last week was good. It's actually kind of a wild time at night, so me and my liver were pretty ready for a weekend of taking it easy. It was awesome to see Ains, of course, and she had a ball with grandma and grandpa, not that there was ever a doubt. It's pretty funny, my mom keeps admitting things she let Ainsley eat that she feels guilty about. "We-ell, we might have given her a little burrito at the Mexican restaurant ... we-ell, I might have let her have a little ice cream." Just like feeding hot dogs to the dog, even though the vet put him on a diet (no mother, I don't believe you have stopped). That's what grandparents do, I suppose. If I have to trade some junk food for an in town baby-and-dog-sitter, I'll do what I have to do.

So we were actually getting back into a pretty normal routine, until we woke this morning and there was throw up all over the crib. So weird, I don't remember hearing crying or fussing or anything, so I don't know if she just didn't wake totally up. She did have the good sense to move to the other side of the crib, however. Poor baby. I kind of thought we were fine this morning after we got everything cleaned up, but I stayed home just in case. Good thing - I learned something about babies and puking. They act pretty fine, maybe just a little cranky, and all of a sudden there's sour milk puke all over the living room floor and the baby and you, and all she wants to do is hug you, but you can't because there's throw up EVERYWHERE and the dog would like nothing more than to eat it. And the baby's saying "nummy nummy" over and over again threw her tears because that's what she says when she eats and it's probably really confusing that it's coming out not going in ... and it's all just a pretty hot mess.

But now Mike is home and the baby ate a little supper and calm has returned, for the most part. And tomorrow is Friday. I love Fridays. Thank god.

heave ho hum

So we shipped the baby off to my parents' house tonight. Mike and I actually have to go to the same conference tomorrow through Friday, and we have to leave by 6am, so we thought it would be best to do the baby handover tonight. It felt yucky, actually. It's one thing to stay overnight somewhere else without her, but it's just weird to be here at home by ourselves. Melancholy. I'm not sure what we do with our time now, but I really don't know what we did with it before. Could happy hour and spending all out money on frivolous things like eyebrow waxes really have taken up that much of our time before?? I guess so. Because now we're just zombies without the baby here, losering at our laptops, biding our time before bed, because we're not used to getting any sleep anyway, so what's the use in trying before 11?

I suppose this is good for us. Ains will have a ball at gma and gpa's - as long as my mom doesn't feed her old hot dogs from their convenience store like she does to the dog.

OH! One spectacular thing!! Guess who the keynote speaker is at this conference we're going to?? Matt. Roloff. Matt Effin Roloff from Little People Big World!! "Think Big, Dream Big" is the topic. It will be wonderful. I only watched that show FIVE MILLION TIMES while I was on maternity leave. So all is not lost.

So lullabye little one. Maybe your hump days be happy and the downhill slide to the weekend be swift. Peace out.

Bill and Barb

So this weekend, Grandma Number Two (dad's mom) moved to Spearfish. (Grandma Number One already lives here, in the nursing home, since she had a stroke about a year and a half ago.) My Grandma T, the one that moved this weekend, is much more mobile and actually in good health. The problem is, she has a bit of dimentia, so living on her own is becoming more of a problem. She was in an apartment building for older people before, so they had some organized activities and meals, but she still had to be pretty independent. Unfortunately, there was a scummy 40-something caretaker guy that took advantage of that. He was asking her for money, never huge amounts because my aunt watches it pretty closely, but still. And always hanging out in her apartment, chain smoking. And the managers of the building didn't seem to care. So, needless to say, everyone decided it was best that she move here, where there's more family and more people to look out for her. There's a wonderful facility, actually just like two blocks from our house, that has three meals a day, lots of activities (painting classes, Wii tournaments, wine and cheese nights - jeez, I might move in!), and residents still get to have their own small apartments.

So we were helping move her stuff in all day Saturday while she was out exploring the hills with my cousin and aunt (the home said it's best for patients with dimentia to come only after everything is moved in, because it can be understandingly overwhelming). My job was to organize her whole closet and her eight or nine jewelry boxes. It was pretty cool, actually. There wasn't anything that valuable, just sentimental - old costume jewelry, my grandpa's cuff links and pocket watch, some rings my great aunt hand painted. I found a silver pendant with my baby picture in it, and the shell casing from my grandpa's military funeral. I also got to look through lots of old photos. I found the above one of my grandma and grandpa when they were young, and I think it's lovely. My grandpa was always my kindred spirit in a way (bookish, creative, traditional, stubborn, particular) and I still can't look at pictures of him, 14 years after he died, without heart pangs. My grandma still has the same spirit as in that picture, dry-witted and playful. And I hope to see her a lot now that she's closer.

a holiday retrospective

Phew. I think we made it. A little poorer, a few more pounds, but we're all intact. The first holiday with a little one was simultaneously wonderful and exhausting. We hosted a Christmas Eve Pasta & Presents party for my family, so that was a big part of the exhausting part. I have the utmost respect for all the holidays my parents have hosted over the years. We just hit the ground running at 6am and didn't stop until midnight. But it was a good time. I think it was a breath of fresh air for my whole extended family to have something new about Christmas. I mean, it's really a holiday for kids, so it was nice to have one around again. Pretty soon Ains will understand about Santa and all that, so it'll be even more fun. The last couple years have just been a lot of, you know, drinking and eating and fighting about politics. So a little glimmer of wonderment was refreshing. Also, a red Christmas tutu. How can you argue the merits and lunacy of Sarah Palin when there's a baby in a red Christmas tutu in the room?!

The holidays did get me thinking about some things I've been trying to ignore for the last nine months (maybe 10 years)? Like religion. I mean, growing up we weren't the most religious family, but we were definitely holiday Catholics at least, and had phases of being a lot more regular. We all went through CCD and First Communion and Confirmation, as did Mike and his sister in the Lutheran Church. And there was something special about Christmas because of that - the story, the advent candles, midnight mass. Just the smell of church at Christmas, incense and grandma perfume and candle smoke. That night, of all the nights, you could FEEL faith ... and family.

But I just can't see us being a really regular part of a church. So how do you convey Christmas as anything except present-palooza if God isn't part of it? How do you justify celebrating something based on nothing but consumerism? I mean, I know lots of people do, or they just base it on family togetherness, but I have a hard time reconciling it in my head to the point where I can feel great about it. But I suppose all the baby Jesus stuff is just an excuse for a lot of people anyway. So I'm not sure what we'll do. I know Mike wouldn't mind if Ainsley grew up with a little church in her life - at least for the moral grounding and fostering tradition and community support aspects. I don't necessarily disagree with him, but it just feels a little off to me. Like, what if she questions it too? I don't want my answer to be "because that's just what people do." Which is hypocritical. Which is kind of my beef with organized religion in the first place.

But maybe it's ok ... to afford her an education in Christianity so she can make an informed decision about her own faith someday. Like, so she's not so starving for faith that she runs off and joins a cult or ends up not believing in ANYTHING. I don't know. I have this idea of doing some kind of blessing/baptism this summer, something outside by the creek, something for family. It's partially to appease all the grandparents, of course, but also so she knows we definitely believe in something, that we're not alone. I mean, we aren't godless heathens. We do have faith, but we (I) just don't think it has to fit into a business model built on stale, out-of-touch rules that foster more judgement from peers than God. Maybe I can just ignore it until next Christmas?? Maybe not.

resolute

I am miserable at New Year's resolutions. So I guess a vow to return to posting regularly will have to coincide with another holiday. Today's (January 8th's) options include:

National Joygerm Day

Saint Gudula Feast Day (Christian)

Show & Tell Day at Work

Birthday - Elvis Presley Birthday (singer)

Midwife's Day/Women's Day (Greece)

So .... not a lot to choose from. Maybe Show & Tell Day is the most appropriate? Not really at work, but whatevs. Hmm, Saint Gudula Feast Day. I always like a feast. Midwife's/Women's Day? Totally appropriate, but I'm neither in Greece or Greek. Plus, all talk of midwives makes me feel guilty because of Ainsley's drug-riddled, western-medicine-stoked birth.

So this is what a joygerm is:

"The joygerm finds its origin in happy people and spreads with verbal or physical contact with another person. You might have the joygerm if you have symptoms of delight, high spirits, joie de vivre, and a smile on your face, or something worse…the ability to laugh and feel/express glee. A person can affect another in the following ways: a hug, kiss, love letter, compliment, or any unexpected act of compassion."

Maybe spreading the joygerm could be my secondary Show-&-Tell-Saint-Gudula-Elvis-Greek Midwife's Day Resolution.

Gaaaah! So anyway, we're back.