nap post

why is it that, when I decide to nap, Sam only sleeps for 20 minutes. But when I have boring crap to do, like move the carseat back to my car, steam carrots, and laundry...he sleeps for an hour and a half?! ***grumble, grumble....yawn***

Well, at least I have some time to sit down and think about Christmas presents. As usual, I'm at a lost for most of the people on my list. I'm in a bit of a crunch because we are headed down to J's folks next weekend to celebrate early. Luckily, J usually takes the reigns and buys for his family. J's sis, Amy, has taken a pledge to only give Handmade presents and requests that others do the same for her. Super cool idea, but then there is so much "taste" involved...what if what I think is cool, she thinks is hideous. Well, I guess that's the gamble you take. I think I may do the same next year! It sure makes shopping more fun. Etsy hasn't seen so much of me since I was looking for felted baby blocks. Which there weren't any...so hey! don't steal my idea. I'm going to sew them out of old sweaters. Um,well, maybe after I finish screen printing my tshirt ideas and tweaking my children's book plots.

So, basically, never.

It's all a blur

I've gotten some nice comments on the pictures I take of Sam. While I appreciate the compliments, I must admit that it's not too hard to end up with a few nice ones when you take as many pictures as I do. Whenever he's being especially cute or the light is nice, I whip out the camera and click away. The continuous photo shoot taking place in my family room is not only out of motherly adoration, but neccessity. If it weren't for volume, I wonder if I would ever get a clear photo...especially at the age he is now. Getting a focused picture of this kid is no easy task and seems to be getting harder. He does not enjoy being still. The vast majority of our pictures look something like this.







Actually, if you look closely at the "keepers" you'll see there is always a reason Sam is still, or at least not jetting across the room like usual.

Stuck behind something...



Stuck in something...



Only Sam is more stationary on a swing...



And my favorite, pausing to scream.

Cheers!

It's been a while (how many posts do I start with some version of that statement?) I've been busy prepping for the onslaught of Winter. Planting the garlic, unpacking the sweaters, raking leaves ect. I'm behind on all these tasks because of my visit down to DC. But, man, it was worth it. Not only did Sam get to hang out with his biggest fan, but I got to see my ladies (and the new little lady too!). Something that doesn't happen often enough...and no one was pregnant! So the wine was flowin and we rocked it old school...in between diaper changes.

Miss you guys...

A little whining...

Things have been a little crazy in these parts. Let's see if I can pry my eyes open and turn my brain on long enough to get a decent post out before Sam wakes up from nap #2. I've probably started 5 blog posts in the last week or so, only to have it cut short by a darling 10 month old. Or, more likely, I've been too busy trying to keep the house from turning into a disaster...unsuccessfully, i might add. Then there is the furniture stripping project I started. Oh, and loading compost into the new vegetable beds. All while I'm trying to get ready to fly down to DC on Saturday...whew!

Now, I find myself waiting for Jet Blue to get their shit together.

I've called 3 times, and each time I get a recording telling me to "call back at a later time" because THEY are too busy. Whatever. And even worse? They end with "this call ends now." What? You mean I can't even sit on hold for an hour if I choose to? Come on.

Why am I calling Jet Blue? Well, J and I had this trip planned to go to DC and then down to Blacksburg for the Florida State game next weekend. Unfortunately, our baby sitter broke her leg. (Hi Mom! oh, that's right, she doesn't read this). Anyway, so now Sam and I are going down solo and I'm trying to cancel J's reservation and move mine so he doesn't have to be away from his son for 10 days. AND, quite honestly, so I don't have to wait on my mom hand and foot for 10 days.

Oh, it's all such a bummer. It was all planned out. It was going to be my first night away from the Ding Dong...perhaps a full nights sleep? And drinking and tailgating and Hokie-ness....and...boo.

And to those of you who say..."Just bring Sam with you." Let me tell you, for those of you not familar with Hokie Football, Lane Stadium is no place for a 11 month old. And it's not just the drunk frat boys and cannons. I think it's safe to say that if Sam didn't already shit in his pants, this would do the trick...



Enter Sandman...always brings a tear to my eye. sniff.

Sam, the Circus Strong Man!

Drawing on a 10 month olds face? Um, not so easy. And I was afraid it might be hard to get him to carry his dumbell, but he ended up loving it.



He loved it so much, he tried to eat it.



So mama took it away. This did not go over very well.



Even strong men have feelings.

Hope everyone had a Happy Halloween!

How ya like them apples?

I could make a Firkin of cider 5 Hands tall...

I know it's been forever. And there is a lot to talk about. My mom broke her leg. My sister is pregnant! But...

I've been buried in apples upto my armpits.

Saturday we headed out to a local orchard to pick some apples. Seemed like a very "Vermont-y" thing to do, and I had plans for homemade baby food and perhaps some pies. And the orchard is located at a very nice spot. Even the port-a-potty had a pretty view. As we pulled into the parking lot we were greated by a young girl asking how many bags we wanted. We shrugged. "Two?" and she handed two folded paper bags. Seemed appropriate. Well, each bag ended up being a half a bushel. And yes, it said so on the bag, but who knows how much a half a bushel is? Oh, 2 pecks. How silly of me.

Consequently, we ended up with a lot of apples. (I should have taken a picture of all our apples..oh well)

But we had fun. It was a nice day, though a bit cloudy. Sam seemed to enjoy the jaunt around the orchard.





So feel free to leave your favorite apple recipe in the comments. I've already made the babyfood and some muffins. Baking is always a little dangerous. I always gain weight whenever I make a pie. Go figure.

I wish I had more time to blather on about all that is going on.

In the meantime...

Go Sox!

6 Years ago today...

Happy Anniversary Babe...What a ride it's been.

Love you.

After much patting and singing and listening to screaming child, the Ding Dong is down for his morning nap. If things continue the way they've been, he should be awake in....oh, about 4 minutes. Yesterday he skipped his afternoon nap all together. And consequently last night was not so good.

Things had gotten better in the sleep department, but we have taken a big step backwards. Usually, naps aren't that much of a problem, but lately Sam's been kinda manic and hyper. Also, a little clingy and anxious. He wants to nurse ALL THE TIME. I wonder what's going on with him?

I've looked at our routine, and not much has changed. The only thing I can think of is that last week, I watched a friends baby for the day. It was a rough day. None of us were too happy. But we survived and there were even moments of giggles and play. Actually, there wasn't all that much turmoil, but when you have 2 babies screaming and doing that pleading with their eyes thing at the same time...a minute is an hour. Pick one up, the other freaks. Put baby down to console other, we now have a full blown tantrum. They seemed to be having a contest on who could make me have a nervous breakdown the fastest. Luckily, they would suddenly be destracted by the dog or my jumping up and down, flapping my arms...hey, it works. It's like Cirque Du Soleil for 9 month olds.



I do it again tomorrow. I expect it to go better.

But it's not all stress and tears around here. Sam has begun to make interesting noises that have us in stitches. His new one is kinda like a yodle. And he loves it when you mimic it back. He is starting to share with us, which is sweet. I'll give him a pile of Cheerios and he'll start munching. Then he grabs a handful and puts his fist in my face. If I open my hand he'll place them inside, but he prefers to shove them directly in my mouth....which can be a little messy. I've actually been trying to get him to share with me for a while, but to no avail until recently. It was a mission because he's been sharing with someone else for weeks...



I don't know whether to declare Sam as "walking." I mean, he walks, sorta. But no more than 4 steps in a row. And the last 2 steps are usually more of a propelled fall. He prefers a crawl for long distances, but succesfully navigates short gaps without holding on to anything. But I can say he has mastered the STAND...



We are looking forward to some friends coming this weekend. I just hope Sam's sleep improves or I'll end up being a zombie. Perhaps this afternoon I'll hunker down in the Baby Corral with Sam and nap while he tries to get through the blanket and eat grass.

More evidence that being an asshole gets you what you want.

To deviate from my usual subject matter (DING DONG!), I would like to express my utter annoyance and disappointment with the outcome of Big Brother last night.

SPOILER ALERT! for any of you DVR/Tivo people...

I will be the first to admit that TV, Reality TV in general and perhaps Big Brother in particular, is not the most enriching way to spend ones time. But I like me some crap. And it will probably all go by the wayside as Sam gets older. But for now, he is tucked snuggly in bed while the debauchery plays out, so I will endulge my need for manufactured, semi-real, in no way representative of actual life, drama.

Last night Dick won Big Brother. And Dick is...well, a Dick. Now many people may argue that his Dickness was strategy. That it is what let him win the game. Now, I understand that these shows are, in their basest form, just a game. And I am the first one to get annoyed at players who take things personally as people get voted out or alliances shift. However, Dick was not just lying or manipulating game aspects. He was calling people names, making fun of other players religions, backgrounds and physical appearance. And it was obvious, OBVIOUS, this was not always in the realm of "game." He was intimidating because he IS intimidating. That appears to be the way he deals with people. He is the kind of person I don't tolerate. And now, he is judged to be the winner...once again reinforcing that in our selfish, get-what's-yours society, that the end justifies the means...

I am disgusted.

Survivor on Thursday. Yippee!
(I am waiting to pass judgement on "Chicken." I know he is from Virginia. CBS has regularly picked some questionable contestants from my home state (um, Johnny Fairplay...ugh) and if I am to stereotype people with names like "Chicken" this guy might just be another reinforcement of southern stereotypes. I hope I'm wrong...)

Hand towels are handy!

First, for a little cuteness...



Sam is chillin' under the coffee table. We put a blanket over it so it became a little fort. He thought it was pretty cool. I was relieved to get a break from the vigil, making sure the kid doesn't knock his teeth out as he cruises around. This morning he got the Godfather of all dings. Biggest, scariest to date. It was purple. He was walking around the table like he usually does. And I was watching, I swear. And when he got to the far side, he just let go. Why does he do that?! Anyway, he took a step, went down and smacked his cheek on the leg before I could grab him. It's the second time the table leg has caused some trauma, so now?



I'm sure J is going to be totally psyched about this interior design descision when he comes home.

He only left this morning and it already sucks. We look so forward to him coming home at the end of the day, it seems so strange to just put the Ding Dong to bed. And Sam is at an age that he gets totally stoked when J walks through the door. And not just because he does this "Rocket Blast Off" thingy that makes Sam go bonkers with glee. He's definetly a Papas boy. And Sam watches everything Daddy does. Like the other day, when there was a touch of fall in the air. What do you do when the temperature drops 5 degrees?

You tune up the snowboard!



I don't even want to know what that kid is thinking.

**YAAAAAWWWWWWWN**

I just dropped of J at the airport. He's gone to San Diego for a week for a tradeshow. So it's just me and the Ding Dong (oh, and Tubbs) holding down the fort. Should be exhausting.

Not to bore people with more talk of Sam's inability to sleep...but Sam can't seem to sleep. Last night was pretty bad.

7pm Asleep
7:15 Awake and crying
7:30 Back asleep (after a cajillion Old MacDonalds and some back patting)
7:45 Awake and crying
8:15 Back asleep (after a half hour!! of crying while I pat and sing...argh)
11pm Awake and crying
11:06 Back asleep with Daddy magic
2:15 Awake and crying

3:30 Back asleep.That's right, and HOUR AND 15minutes later. This stretch was punctuated with a few psychs. He would be asleep, but wake up screaming just as I am pulling back the covers to get back in bed. There was lots of nursing, lots of singing, lots of back patting.

4:30 Awake, nursed back to sleep pretty quick
5:45 Good Morning!

Yay! I'm a crabby, tired mess! And the Daddy Magic just got on a plane to the west coast. Last night was pretty crappy, even for Sam. He's usually not that hard to get back to sleep...and the little 15 minute naps were weird. I'm pretty sure we have some molars moving around. There was quite a bit of finger sucking. He wasn't completely wailing like he did with the last teeth, but I think it's safe to say he was uncomfortable. At least I hope that's it. It's always nice when there's a "reason."

Good TV

Tomorrow is going to be a big day. I already have butterflies thinking about it. Tomorrow ESPN Gameday broadcasts from Blacksburg and the Hokies take the field for the first time since...

Well, since a lot of things. Since the events in April when a madman took so many dreams, and a nation associated the idea of "Virginia Tech" with "massacre." Since Michael Vick, someone who has done so much for the university and held a special place in so many Hokie hearts, was exposed participating and encouraging the cruelest of endeavors.

Due to these reasons I have mixed feelings about the Gameday coverage. When I first heard about it I was happy. It's always fun when Corso and Herbie are in Blacksburg. But now, I think the chatter is going to drive me crazy. There will be lots of talk of that day in April, of Micheal Vick and lots of references to "healing" and how the university "needs" this. How Hokie Nation can come together over....over what? Football? The truth is we came together long before that. They are portraying it like we have been a community in waiting. Waiting for football.

Hokies know that the healing begun long ago. That we have banded together in love and support, and are ready to move forward. That we have moved forward. Perhaps they will portray this tommorrow, but most likely they will bill the game as baptism. As a day of renewal.

Though I think that is oversimplyfying the matter, I must admit there is some truth. Especially for the Hokies so far removed from Blacksburg. Putting on the maroon and orange, cheering, drinking beer, high fives...it's about time we get to think of our school with laughter and smiles, with unadulterated joy.

But it won't be unadulterated, will it? The media won't allow it to be. It will be like April all over again, seeing a place I love tied to such horror and cruelty, and talking heads theorizing with sympathetic nods and bottled compassion. I'm sure there will be many tear jerking montages and profiles of victims and portraits of Hokie Spirit. But I'm afraid it will seem invasive. A private matter displayed for the nation to gawk at. Hokies will be poked and proded, tears will be induced, and emotional scenes will play out for a hungry public.

And the cameras will be there to capture it all.



(And I will be watching. GO HOKIES!)

Keep it in park...

The past week Sam has been taking his new mobility for a test drive. Sometimes I wish he would just keep it in the garage. Because with any new vehicle, as you embark into the world...there will be dings. And he's gotten a few.

We've drawn first blood. Tooth and lip have met, and they aren't friends. It wasn't all that traumatic, but I realize it's the first of many. Especially since this kid cannot sit still...even for a second. He is cruising around, pulling up and taking steps he has no business taking.

He just lets go. Oh, he can't walk or anything, but he doesn't seem to know that. He turns, sees something and goes for it...and BAM! Thank god we have a new rug to cushion the repeated tumbles and trips. And he gets himself into the most precarious positions. He doesn't quite have the strength to balance, but I guess it's all a building process.

Sam's will has made an appearance too. He's starting to get touchy when you take something away, or don't let him go where he wants to go. And I know people always say this, but it's the things that he can't have that he wants the most. Like the remote...

No baby, the remote isn't a toy...

Yikes! That really isn't much of an issue anymore since one of our remotes broke. We took out the batteries and now he sits, content, gumming...oh wait, excuse me, biting the buttons. I was hoping that once he got it, he would lose interest, but no. The fancy, colorful soft toys cannot compare. And a close second?

my flip flop.

To the dogs...

As I've gotten older I've enjoyed watching friends go through many life changes. I've been amazed at how often these changes seem to happen all at once. There was the 2005/2006 wedding extravaganza when it seemed everyone I know was getting married. Then the great baby explosion of 2006/2007. Now, there is a much sadder, more difficult cycle that has begun.

The "college dogs" are dying.

A few days ago I got the news that Forbin was being put to sleep. Forbin was a spirited little dachsund mutt J and his roommate adopted from the pound our Sophmore year at Tech. Though they both took him home, it was quickly established that Forbin's trust and allegiance was to Johnny. And Johnny, in turn, became Forbin's true Dad.

Forbin was a staple in our college lives, and for many years after. Forbin was my roommate and my pal as we all shared the house on Lee street. When Tubbs came into the picture, Forbin, like so many little dogs, showed no fear of the looming big brown spaz. Forbin was happy to show him the ropes and let him know who was boss and thought nonthing of it when Tubbs quickly doubled, tripled, quadrupled his size. Until the day Tubbs bit him that is...sorry about that Forbe. (Bones. There is no sharing amongst friends. Lesson learned.)

Now, after a good 17 years, Colonel Forbin was put to rest.

And today, I got the news that Naya, Tubbs littermate, will be put down today. I knew she had been ill, but it's just so sad. I look at Tubbs and realize it may not be far off for him. And Mrs. T's sweetheart of a dog, Tabby, is now deaf and getting a little rickety. I always knew they wouldn't be around forever, but it takes you by surprise when you see your once energetic and active companion become slow and aged.

As many of us are caring for our first children, we are saying goodbye to our first babies. The ones that showed us what unconditional love and companionship can be. Teaching us that responsiblity and trust are not a burden, but a blessing.

I know it's been said, but the love of a dog makes you a better person. Even as we say goodbye, they teach us about love and loss. It's too bad the final lesson has to be so hard.

Good-bye Forbin.



I wish I could give Johnny a hug.

Guilt tripping at TJ Maxx

I spent the morning rearranging the furniture and now I am eagerly awaiting J to come for lunch and check it out. He can be very particular about such things. I think I have an ok sense of design and style, however since Sam arrived, I'm a little more function over fashion these days. Moving the table has opened up a large area for Sam to play. I know J is going to say it's crowded and cluttered in the area I moved it to, but that space was just dead space anyway so...I hope he likes it. I'd really like to keep it the way it is now.

Perhaps I am feeling a little over confident that this new arrangement will fly after my victory yesterday? We got a new rug! I've been whining pretty consistantly about how we needed a rug in the family room to cushion Sams noggin when he topples over and takes a header. And like I said, J can be very particular about these kinda things. He doesn't just dislike something, he "HATES" it. He's the king of hyperbole when it comes to getting what he wants. "That is the most henious thing I've ever seen!"...um, no I don't think that blue carpet is the "most henious thing" you've ever seen...you worked at WalMart in High School remember?

But J likes what he likes, and don't we all. It's just that his tastes tend to run extremely specific, and expensive. So yesterday I nearly broke down in tears when we argued about buying a $130 rug. 8x5 for $130 is pretty good. AND it was super cush. And after looking at a bajillion rugs online, J still hadn't found any he liked and the few that were ok were $600...which is just crazy. I knew this was our best chance so I explained how "Sam needs it", you know, so he doesn't knock out those new teeth or before he gets brain damage. So J conceded to get the rug that was lowest on the list of most henious things he's ever seen.

Mama and Sam's teeth are happy!

And my Dad thinks I'm spoiling him by picking him up when he cries...

Last week Sam and I headed down to DC to visit my parents. It was a nice little break. Sam had an expanse of carpet on which to crawl and a large stash of toys to ignore while chewing on my flip flops. Now that we are home Sam no longer wants anything to do with any sort of containment. He has tasted unincumbered freedom and there is no going back.

And there was also one of these!



oh, and one of these!





Sam is doing his best to adjust to a world without large plastic bouncy things and his own private pool. I guess he's doing as well as one can expect. He doesn't seem to mind lack of plush carpeting as the floor seems to be the only place he wants to be.

I just feel bad that the floor is so hard and hairy. Ugh the dog hair. It's really a problem. I do the best I can with sweeping. I would vacuum more often, but Sam's surprised wide eyes quickly devolve into the scared cry. You know, the high pitch, face squinched, eyebrow furrowed, pleading to make it stop cry. And I don't have the stomach for it.

And our floor space is pretty small. That's really the trouble. At my parents he could crawl and crawl and get pretty far before there was any trouble. Here he has about 3 feet before hitting chairs and tables and TV stands. And I don't know if I've mentioned it before, he is not really a sit on the floor kinda baby. He is not content to plop down in one place and play. So we are spending much of our days hunched over, redirecting Sams exploration and removing dog hair from his pants.

Of course...he's not always wearing pants.

Just call me wallflower...

I've been feeling a little down lately. My lack of friends around here has me bummed. I know a few girls, but the time it takes to really get to know someone seems daunting. The fact that I look at it that way reinforces the feeling that I haven't really clicked with anyone. And the activities we do tend to be overplanned and contrived. Not that I don't enjoy the excursions, but we are so busying doing stuff that we hardly connect. And I think my need for connection has done a number on my personal filter.

I'm spewing thoughts and feelings without really stopping to think.

I've always been pretty opinionated. However, I'd like to think that over the past few years I've managed to keep the idea that I could quite possibly, even probably, be mistaken about many of my beliefs. Or, at very least, I try to understand why someone may feel differently. I enjoy debating topics such as politics, religion and ethics. I KNOW. Never a good idea. Unless you know people really well. And, like I said, I don't. And like I also said, I lake to debate. Which probably comes across as judgemental. Or even worse, has me saying things for the sake of making a point, not because I honestly think it.

With my close friends, I feel comfortable diving into taboo territory...because I know they really get me. I want people to question me about my beliefs. It helps me to know myself better. And let's me realize when I'm not really thinking things through. I so miss the ability to freely discuss and be wrong. And disagree. And hash out the differences and respect those differences. These are not things you should do with people who don't already know you well. Who won't hold it against you or judge you...or at least, just a little. And I can't expect that from everybody. I suppose that's what makes true friends, friends. They are willing to listen to your bullshit, call you out on it, throw in some of their own and you still end up repsecting and loving each other in spite of all the self righteousness.

Oh, and this is all compounded due to my lame need for people to like me.

It's a problem.

So I'm going to start shutting up a bit.

Sorry Honey, Wii're broke

I just finished setting up our home finances in a nice freeware program. Things are a little out of control around here. The move and subsequent "Home Improvement" led to a frenzy of purchases. For a couple months we were living as though our income is about 3 times what it is. We've gotten so used to whippin out the debit card and buying crap.

Well, we ain't no millionares and if we don't want the rest of our savings to disappear we need to get back to reality. The line between what we want and what we need has become blurred. Looking at how much we have spent at a certain big box store is making me break out in hives. Of course J doesn't really look at the money and he has been loving his Saturday morning trips to the sprawl. It's going to be a hard recovery having him go cold turkey. I think it's beginning to warp his senses...

Me: Ugh, I should go to Kmart and buy a bathmat. I hate Kmart.

J: You should go buy a Wii!

Me: Yeah. I'm not going anywhere. I think you should go...

No one ended up going, but the next day, J said I agreed to get a Wii. I don't think so.

It's hot.

I feel like a big wussy complaining about the heat, because relatively, it's not really that hot. Diddy in Vegas has no sympathy for me, I'm sure. But my year in Vermont has allowed me to become accustomed to a certain chill, and when the heat rolls in, my new hardy disposition begins to melt.

Sleep, which I have already stated is shotty at best, is no fun in the hotness. And The Ding Dong, currently fending off attacks from killer incisors, is not tolerating the sweaty stick with much grace. Our nights have gone something like this:

Sam wakes up in pain and begins to cry.

The effort of crying causes him to sweat.

I pick him up and the compounded body heat causes the flood gates of our pores to open.

Sam's cries escalate.

I hug and bounce and pat causing me to sweat even more.

Which, in turn, causes Sam to sweat even more.

I put Sam back down to provide relief from all the hotness.

Sam goes completely ape shit.

The fever he has only compounded the ugh of it all. I have been gathering up the sticky tacky, slimy little one and carrying him into the bedroom where the AC unit is humming and cooling. I feel so selfish having set it up in there instead of Sam's room. Of course when we set it up, our room was Sam's room so I guess I can ease off the mama guilt a little bit. And honestly, it's only needed a total of perhaps 8 days a year. But having it makes those 8 days way more tolerable.

Another side effect of the heat besides all the sweating, or rather, a side effect of all the sweating, is my lack of slinging. Sam enjoys being in the sling. I enjoy having him in it. It has been my "comfort crying baby" weapon since the beginning, and has proven indespensible during teething. Sling and stoller...rarely is there ever a crying baby in either. But when it's hot? Baby pressed snuggly against the torso? Yuck. And add a fever to the mix? It's like having a hot water bottle strapped to your belly. I think he still enjoys the closeness, but after a few minutes, we're both a big slimy mess. And the fact that he cries while in it is a signal that it's not providing the comfort is usually does. So there is a lack of baby wearing going on. A state of affairs I do not like.

So in the meantime, we're laying low, avoiding the sun and taking periodic trips to the bedroom for relief...



and going sans pants.