Monday, December 29, 2008

She just keeps piling sticks in a circle

Oh hello there, I must have forgotten to write. The mountains were fun, but cold. The boy has declared himself a skiing maniac. I went shopping. The eating of food was wonderful. Baby girl got to sled and tried on some practice skis. The Manny slept. The husband walked the snow dog for me. All was right in the world. We came home and had a blissful Christmas. Santa dropped off too many toys, yet again. So did the grandparents, and the Manny, and everyone else who knows our spoiled children so we were left with a huge mound of toys and no place to put them.

Plus I am pretty sure the baby dropped. This has never happened to me before. Third pregnancy will do it I guess. Anyway round ligament pain and peeing 95 times a day is not fun. Either is a fussy husband. So to handle his freaking out that THE BABY WILL BE HERE SOON HOLY CRAP attitude I made him nest. And boy did he ever. The entire family room/ gigantic FAO Schwartz store that is our family room is organized! It is wonderful. All the toys have a special place, there are cubbies, and shelves and buckets. There are centers. It is wonderful. While he was at it he organized the office "area" too. Once again everything has its place. And! to top it off Christmas has left the building. (I can't stand the tree up past Christmas day.) Oh I am a happy girl.

I still have not nested as far as the baby is concerned. Oops. With the first the nursery was put together four months in advance. Washed clothes and everything. The second go round it was put together about a month in advance, I didn't know baby girl was indeed a girl so the yellow items were washed. I have got about two weeks left and at least the stuff is in the house now. Until yesterday it was in the garage. The crib is up. I bought some diapers. But that is about all. I have no special baby detergent so NOTHING is washed. No overnight bag is packed. The bassinet is still not put together. They are just in a big heap in the baby's room with the door shut. And the crazy thing is this pregnancy is acting different. There are sensations going on in there that I weren't there with the last two. I need to get my shit together. People tell me oh you will KNOW when you are in labor (I have never *really* been in labor before) but I beg to differ. Not that I am in labor right now, just that it may begin sooner rather than later. The first delivery went something like this:

Three weeks to go my old OB decided I needed another ultrasound because the first one showed that I had placenta previa and they wanted to make sure good old placenta had moved out of the way. Then the tech told me I was looking at a ten pound kid. Because someone's mother just happens to be an OB and while I was visiting a few months before and had gotten a freebie ultrasound she had told me all this already so I was not too surprised. The old OB in Vegas declared that kid isn't going to fit in your pelvis. You are small. You are having a c-section. Now because I was already at the point of "someone has got to get this kid out of here and I don't care how" mood I said sure. Mr. Fussy likes everything scheduled doesn't not handle the unexpected well husband was thrilled. The c-section was scheduled. Everything was already done at home. He just had to wait. No freaking out for him. So on the blessed day in December there were no blizzards to contend with it was Vegas, just the flu. I woke up are realized I was sick. And not just cold sick, but sick. So I snuck a Tylenol and went to hospital. Because I was pretty sure they wouldn't have done the c-section that day had they known what my real temperature was and I was at the point of craziness with getting him out of me. While I was waiting for my surgery they hooked me up to monitors and declared I was having contractions. Regular ones too. Now I am not sure if Tylenol is strong enough to dull the pain or what but I was quite surprised since I couldn't feel them at all. Not a thing. So this is my dilemma now. I think the kid has dropped. Crazy things are occasionally happing in there (like someone every so often stabs my cervix with a knife among crampy feelings.) But since I have no idea what labor feels like because when I was in labor for that brief two hours before my surgery I couldn't feel it, I really have no idea what is going on in there. My cervix has never dilated before. I have never dropped. I expressed all this to the husband who freaked out a bit more and turned his attention back to his nesting.

So any of you out there who have had babies and been in labor to remove them from you...please give me some advice on this.

Friday, December 19, 2008

I must've drank me about 15 Dr. Peppers

John Muir said, "The mountains are calling and I must go." A few weeks ago my phone rang and it was the touristy town of Breckenridge saying, "hey Jennie the economy is in the pooper and have I got some deals for you. Why don't you home hang out in one of my condos for as cheap as you will ever see in your lifetime, we are talking May rates here lady. Your family can all go skiing while you and baby girl watch too much t.v. and wander around in shops that are filled with useless crap. But we've got hot chocolate and muffins so you should be OK." I looked over at the husband who was wagging his tail and panting, giving me the puppy dog look...please can we go? can we? can we?

I pouted for a while about the fact that I can't ski this season so why should I have to subject myself to hanging out in some non-kid friendly place with baby girl while EVERYONE (parental figures, husbands, the boy, friends of husbands, kids of friends of husbands, girlfriends, DOGS, hell even the Manny) can ski and then enjoy apres ski. (note: happy hour is called snooty apres ski in ski towns.) I am taking one for the Gipper. I am roughly three and a half weeks from giving birth and my bitch level is at an all time high. So, dear reader, I am picking the restaurants for this adventure. Why? Because it is the only thing that I have on this earth that I enjoy right now. Food. Since we are staying in a condo, I will be torturing the family with "we are not eating out for breakfast and lunch for four days. You'll eat your oatmeal and you'll like it!" (Food prices apparently don't go on sale in a down turned economy.) But for dinner I am choosing. Does anyone know this yet? Nope. OK I fore warned them that we will be eating in a certain restaurant based on a movie one night because that place just amuses me so. The food is not so hot, but I DON"T CARE! I have eaten at some places in Frisco that were mighty tasty but are not kid friendly in anyway and since I am not shelling out cash for babysitting on the, ahem "family vacation" we won't be dining there this trip. So while everyone else is out skiing and my mom and the husband are bossing the Manny around, because I will not be there to boss around, baby girl and I will be scouring Breckenridge and Frisco for perfect dinner spots.

For those of you familiar with Breck or Frisco...any suggestions? Now back to packing...

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez


A long long time ago some Frenchies got kicked out of Nova Scotia and wandered on down to Louisiana. They started eating things that required a LOT of cayenne pepper to choke down. Eventually enough breeding happened that my husband was produced. Now my family is all descended from Northern Europe and somehow on our boats over the ocean we lost the Scandinavian recipes, the German recipes, and I can't say much for British cooking anyway. I have NO family recipes. (And Dad Pennsylvania Dutch potato soup does not count because we are neither Dutch nor from Pennsylvania!) So unless you count roast beef I have no food connection to the previous generation. No sauces. No special holiday treat. OK I take that back my Grandma makes pffernusse cookies, I tried, it didn't work out so well. And on my mom's side...you can hear crickets chirping it is so quiet in the kitchen. 

So when I went to meet the husband's family almost a decade ago they do what they always do in the spring...had a crawfish boil. Now living in St. Louis I was aware of people eating these things around Mardi Gras. I had gone to a Fat Tuesday parade once. Except the little crustaceans are called crayfish in Missouri. I even held one once. But never had I been to a crawfish boil, eaten jambalaya, etouffee, boudain, beignets, or had my nose run from eating corn and potatoes.  

In the spring of 2000, pounds of crawfish were ordered, boiled, seasoned, and had their little tails pulled off of their bodies and mutilated in order to obtain a itty bit of meat. There may have been some head sucking. This meat tastes very similar to shrimp but not as oceany if you've never had one. Eating them takes time and is an all afternoon or evening affair. It is not fancy, pretentious, or clean. (DO NOT touch your eyes for the love of Pete!) It is relaxing. It is surrounded by family and friends. (And most likely beer and if enough beer is around then there is a washboard involved too.) When my husband's family has people over they cook two things: brisket and crawfish.  And then they relax. This just doesn't happen in my family. Oh sure we bar b que but it simply another way to cook dinner. It is not an affair. It is not a day long event. We have one day long event pertaining to food in my family...Thanksgiving. 

Since being married to the husband we have boiled crawfish more than once. We tried to order them in Las Vegas, but had to settle for a shrimp boil. I have tried other Cajun food as well, including jambalaya, gumbo, etouffee, and let's not forget boudain.  I love beignets (especially at Cafe du Monde). I keep an eye out for King Cake in February (only found one here once.)  And last spring when Mardi Gras rolled around the husband and I surprised the boy with crawfish. He IS Cajun. In Texas at the Grandparents house he requests crawfish. He is spoiled so he gets crawfish.  Baby girl is a totally different story. She cries when faced with the idea of eating fish of any sort. She just will not do it. But the boy?  He knows what a fais do do is.  So while I may not have recipes or ethnic traditions to hang my hat on it no longer matters...I co-opted my husband's.  

and while I could link you to some zydeco music, I am going for a more southern flair...





or perhaps the creme de la creme...

Friday, December 12, 2008

Happy Birthday

Today you turned five. It seems like only yesterday I was seeing you for the first time. You were HUGE, we were so excited to meet you. I watched you grow and change from a helpless newborn to a happy easy going baby. You crawled happily on the floor, played with your toys, never fussed in the car. You were in my eyes the perfect baby. (Just don't tell your sister.) You learned to walk at nine months and instantly became a dare devil. At one time you were the silent type. Now you pepper me with questions from the moment you wake up at 6 am to the time you go to bed at 8:30. Despite my honest efforts to change you, you are a morning person. You are all boy, nothing terrifies you, except for maybe the thought of having to put lotion on. You are funny, smart and as your teacher put it this year "a gentle giant."  You are my first. You will always have that special place in my heart. Mommy doesn't always knows how to be a Mommy, but you show me everyday what love is. Your spirit is so kind and forgiving it amazes me. I love you more than these words here could ever express. 

Happy Birthday!

Love, 

Mommy 

Thursday, December 11, 2008

oy, my aching back...

I have entered the final stage of the pregnancy...the one in which basic movements have become extremely difficult. It began Tuesday evening while dining with the husband at the Cheesecake Factory (shrimp and bacon club...what is not to love about shrimp AND bacon?). I ate entirely too much food and then was unable to sleep. Yesterday I had an extremely long day on my feet, volunteered to make fondue with a bunch of preschoolers, cooked lasagna for 60, marched the herd all over Costco...by 8:30 I was in bed, yelping in pain. Of course being this large and now full of lasagna I could not sleep. Just whimper. So this morning, needless to say, I moved at a snail's pace. This is just not the time of year to be pregnant. With the boy I was almost done at this point but had the flu. With baby girl I was in throws of morning sickness. While I don't have the flu (knock on wood) and am way past morning sickness, I would like to know who decided that the holiday's have to be so busy? There's the shopping, the cooking, the gifting, the birthday parties, the eating out constantly, the messy house, the husband's antics with the new job (more on that later this month), the decorating, the cookie baking, the cookie indulging...it just goes on and on. Now I must say that if these are my biggest concerns in life than I have a pretty damn good life and should just quit my bitching. But I honest to God feel like I was assaulted and am all bruised. Never mind the tantrum throwing over stimulated children I am desperately trying ignore because you can only use the "I am going to call Santa RIGHT NOW! so many times before it wears off." I need a pregnancy safe Valium that I can just take until January and then the real fun begins.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,
I want an SR-71 Blackbird fastest plane in the world for Christmas and I want it to land on our roof! 
~the boy

To which Santa replied: Yeah, that is a sweet plane.  

(So, DOD do you think you could recommission the stinkin' plane and have it land on our roof, although I am not sure the roof would hold it? Thanks, Jennie.)


Dear Santa,
I want a PINK! fastest plane in the world. That's all. 
~baby girl

(and while you're busy recommissioning a plane and landing it on our roof would please paint one pink and deliver that as well. XOXO, Jennie)

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Bratz dolls

"Just in time for the holidays, a federal judge has granted giant toymaker Mattel one of its big wishes. The judge ordered a rival company to stop selling Bratz dolls, which have undercut sales of Mattel's own Barbie. Wednesday's ruling follows a jury's finding that Bratz doll designer Carter Bryant came up with the pouty-lipped dolls while working for Mattel. The judge said the Bratz dolls may remain on store shelves until after the holidays." from NPR Morning Edition

Thankfully baby girl is still to young to be attracted to the little hoochies. Because these are the type of dolls I want my daughter to emulate, let me tell ya'. She's having her breasts "enhanced" at seven too....sheesh.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

while watching the news in southern colorado both jennie and the husband began crying upon hearing the news that croup is back in town...

Where did we leave off? Ah yes, Thanksgiving: It was good the husband was at home all week, we got the baby's room together, ate too much turkey, visited with family, got the tree up. The house is now a disaster, I can't imagine that eating turkey day leftovers is even safe anymore so I desperately need to get to the grocery store, five loads into the laundry and I have finally made a dent, Santa Claus is done shopping (all time record) need to finish other family members' gifts, husband is completely anxious and infecting me with his vibe over his super secret mission to DC that I am NOT supposed to be discussing here I am sure, but oh look I am. I am overwhelmed. I need a wife of my own to pick up this mess. But to top it off baby girl completely outdid herself this time. To the point that I am ready to light a cigarette and take a shot of tequila...that is a joke (sort of.)

Baby girl cut her hair. Oh and she was so proud of herself too.


Yesterday I took her to some fancy schmancy little girl salon for her first haircut to see if they could do anything about her do. There was not much that could be done. So I basically just shortened all of her hair a few inches and made it all one length (minus the fuzz at the top) so she doesn't look like a blond Joan Jett in a month.



But since she was getting all kinds of attention with this little shenanigan and was completely enjoying herself she decided to go for a twofer and began barking at 2 am last night. That's right folks effing croup for the fourth time in 10 months. This is becoming a chronic problem. Last night I actually got the steam/cold air trick to work. I was an hour into it and was halfway to the ER when she started clearing up. So we turned around went home and all slept together. This morning I took her to the doctor and finally I have my very own stash of steroids to give her when these little episodes begin. Two out of the four have resulted in ambulance rides and all kinds of oxygen and other medical devices. Two have not. So my next step, if this happens yet again, is to schedule an appointment with the boy's beloved ENT doc for further evaluation of her larynx and adenoids. I have read and been told that there is some link between reflux and chronic croup and also asthma and croup. I would be surprised if it was either of those, well I guess I could understand the reflux, but she doesn't ever seem asthmatic. Either way giving steroids to a two year old makes her VERY wide awake so that fact that we were up most of the night has no effect on her, but mommy needs an IV of caffeine inserted, but since I already guzzled my allotted 1/2 cup I suppose I will continue to ignore the state of my house and watch cartoons with the kids all afternoon.