PostHaste

10.31.11

2011-10-31T08:50:00.000-07:00

Georgetown

2011-09-24T17:18:00.000-07:00

My Heart

2011-09-04T20:24:00.001-07:00

Handsome

2011-06-23T18:38:00.001-07:00

Breakfast In Bed

2011-06-04T18:43:00.000-07:00

Crayons!

2011-05-28T08:49:00.000-07:00

These were one of the many birthday gifts Cohen received. So far, I think I've enjoyed them for their intended use more than my son, who has no interest besides chewing the crayons to sad misshapen nubs of color.

CAKE!

2011-05-02T18:54:00.000-07:00

On Cohen's official day of birth, I nipped to the bakery across the street and got him his very own cupcake. This was the result. Not too shabby for a newbie to the likes of cake and frosting.

Epic Awesome

2011-04-27T18:56:00.001-07:00

As a rule I don't post other people's designs, photographs, or creativity but this was just too good not to share. The design team behind this campaign is BRILLIANT and if you happen to be a nerd, like me, that loves the magic that can be created with technology, you will share my appreciation:

"Eggs"cellent

2011-04-24T03:07:00.000-07:00

Cohen's First Birthday

2011-04-21T06:01:00.000-07:00

I had all kinds of grand plans for Cohen's first birthday, mostly gleaned and snipped from Martha Stewart Living, that I had been hoping to bring together without the help of her assistants, planners, coordinators, and designers, at noon on Saturday, April 16. Well, it turns out Martha Stewart I am NOT, but in true creative "I'm An Artist" fashion I didn't go down without a fight. Originally, it would have been a garden party with Kris at the grill and our dear friends and family frolicking in our backyard. Except we don't have a backyard, much less a garden, just a barren plot of earth that spits forth an inordinate amount of prickly weeds. So, frolicking was definitely out. After issuing invitations, I discovered that my original restaurant of choice was going to be closed that particular Saturday, this realization was immediately followed by furious internet trolling for an equally, hip, kid-friendly, affordable, and yummy place to crash.

Success! Pasquini's on Broadway fit the bill to perfection and the best part, they were willing to house our group of loud, fun-loving friends and a one-year old with a penchant for total and utter destruction.

Now, to figure out the cake. It had to be special but not tacky, delicious but not boring, and I had the design all drawn out. Of course, I know nothing when it comes to pricing a cake and after visiting several well-known bakeries I'm still none the wiser. Why exactly is a square cake more expensive than a round one? Is fresh fruit really that difficult to work with to warrant such a price hike? Fortunately, I stumbled across a little bakery off of Sante Fe called Frills and talked to the baker himself. The guy was so gracious and even offered to let me take of giant slice of cake from the fridge, for FREE!, so I could get a sense of their flavors, textures, and general deliciousness. An offer that hadn't even been suggested or uttered at any of the other shops, just a non-committal shrug toward their $8 cake pops if I "wanted to try something".

Next item on the list: Party Favors! I was really looking forward to these I just wasn't happy with the garish plastic options provided at my local Target and then I stumbled across a simple pattern for goodie bags you could fashion out of the fabrics of your choice. Great! Except our current sewing machine crapped out on the last project we tried to coax from it's needle. Not that it was such a tragedy, the only thing I'd ever attempted to sew in the past was a curtain that looks like something Ray Charles cranked out one night after one too many drinks. After spending a whole evening hand sewing one shaky seam, my dear husband took pity on me and purchased a new sewing machine (a la Martha Stewart!). I then spent the following evening getting acquainted with aforementioned sewing machine and after several less-than-stellar attempts I could sew a goodie bag in 6 minutes flat, skewed seams and all!

I was feeling pretty good about my plans thus far when I ran across this party...a party for a cat. A CAT. Not that I don't think cats aren't awesome, I was just having a little bit of anxiety that this feline was obviously having a MUCH more posh party than my human son, the apple of my eye, was about to have. To top it off, the whole thing looks like it was photographed by a professional and all guests look like they just stepped out of a J. Crew catalog. What I did love about this particular party was the little moustache on a stick that several party goers are sporting in some of the photos. It turns out I already possessed all the necessary craft supplies to whip out my own "funny face" creations for guests to use for their own little photo ops. Score!

All that was left were the balloons. I figured the Party City down the street would be more than happy to inflate a dozen or so party balloons while I ran around getting the odds and ends I was going to toss in my newly sewn goodie bags. Did you know that Party City needs a week in advance for balloon orders? Neither did I. I found two frazzled employees furiously inflating balloon after balloon who were quick to point out their balloon policy. I was okay with not having balloons, disappointed but okay, after all, it was my fault for not going through the proper balloon-ordering channels. Did you know that having a good attitude in the face of disappointment can get you what you want? Neither did I. Because after I said I would just make my purchase sans balloons the manager offered to inflate the balloons of my choice, right then and there. Blessings on thee, Party City manager! You MADE my son's birthday as is evident from this face:

All of these photos were taken before the guests arrived and before Cohen decided sitting in his high chair was just not what birthday boys do. I didn't have a moment or spare hand to take pictures of our guests, gift openings, candle blowing, but I was able to spend every minute enjoying our friend's company, the food, and most importantly, celebrating Cohen, which is all I really wanted. A true success, indeed!

Crabapple

2011-04-20T17:55:00.001-07:00

This is one of my favorite times of year, when all the flowering trees in Denver start to bloom and we are lucky enough to have a giant crabapple tree at the end of our driveway. Right now it is covered in a million delicate pink blossoms and I couldn't help but slip out the other morning, just after a spring rain, snap a few photos, and appreciate it's beauty and magnificence.

April Wedding

2011-04-17T18:03:00.000-07:00

David and Linette

04.10.2011

Porch

2011-04-15T05:21:00.000-07:00

We spent last weekend in Orlando, Florida for my dear brother's wedding and in the bustle of our return and getting details organized for Master Cohen's birthday party this weekend I haven't had a chance to post about it...in the meantime, I leave you with this image, a porch where I would be happy to spend all of my lazy afternoons.

Journal: 12 Months

2011-04-05T15:14:00.000-07:00

Dearest Bean:

We survived the FIRST year! Thanks for letting me tag along, little bean!

Love Forever:

Mama

The Passing Of Time

2011-03-31T18:04:00.000-07:00

My Ideal Girl Friend

What is she like? She is everything I wish I were. She has a wonderful sense of humor, which is very important, and she has a good disposition. I have never seen her angry all the time I have known her. She is smart and not lazy or afraid to work. She is a wonderful athlete and is friendly with every one. When I say friendly, I don't mean with just the people she knows, but she goes out of her way to help others and make them feel as if they are not as ignorant as is sometimes implied by others.

She dresses nicely, wearing clothes that suit her, and she is very pretty. Pretty is a rather common word but it carries so much meaning that I think it is the word to use.

She was my best friend in grammar school. We called her Corky, which is a nickname for Corrinne, and is not a very common nickname. She is thin like me, and I always felt better when I was with her. She is the only child in the family, but that does not mean she is spoiled; in fact, she is just the opposite. She was raised better, and is as unspoiled as some children in a large family are spoiled. I haven't seen her for some time, but I hope to see her soon.

*****

My Ideal Boy Friend

At this particular time, I am rather glad to say, I do not have a boy friend, but I know what I would want him to be like. For one thing he would have to be mannerly.

These boys that you see going around talking loudly and, in many ways considering the girl as another boy, are rather out of line. It doesn't matter whether the boy has a lot of money, whether he can take you to the high spots or just to a show. If he is a nice boy, that is all that counts.

A sense of humor means a lot and most boys have it but not all, so if a boy expects to become an ideal boy friend that is one quality worth having. He should dress well and be neat. He doesn't have to wear expensive clothes to be nice and neat, but clean clothes, carefully kept.

This will give an idea of how my ideal boy friend has to be like. As I read it over, it strikes me as rather wishful thinking, but then every girl does a lot of wishful thinking, especially where boys are concerned.

*****

My Summers

Almost every summer since 1929 our family has spent its vacation at Chain-o-Lakes, Indiana. It's about eight miles this side of South Bend. Each summer I'd get acquainted with some people, and the next summer they'd be gone. There was always more to take their place.

There are two girls though, whom I see every summer. They are Louise Larson and Ruth Neilson. Louise lives out there, and Ruth goes out every summer the same as I do.

One summer we decided to take a hike around the lake. The lake isn't very big, but there isn't any kind of path at all leading around it so we did just what the big and famous explorers do. We broke trail. We not only broke the trail but ourselves as well. Between climbing over the bob-wire fences, rolling down hills, and being chased by cows (or so we thought, but the poor cows were just looking for more grass) we decided we had a very uneventful hike.

My brother and sister always went too, but they graduated last year so I took my cousin, Shirley Urquhart, with me. We had so much fun that we didn't want to go home. We went swimming every day, took a long walk, and we went down to the Stand (Mr. Larson runs a candy, pop, and ice cream stand) and had a lot of fun with the other girls and boys. Sometimes we went into South Bend.

This year we might not be able to go out there on account of gas rationing, but I hope we will.

Luck O' The Irish

2011-03-17T17:36:00.000-07:00

Diner

2011-03-13T10:15:00.001-07:00

Journal: Tenth and Eleventh Month

2011-03-08T19:14:00.000-08:00

Dearest Bean,

How the last two months have flown and, now, we are less than four weeks away from your first birthday! Incredible! Back in January I mentioned that I was going back to work full time and just two weeks later your Dada started his new job and he was no longer home to help get you ready in the mornings. I didn't really anticipate the change and so for the first week your mama was late to work every single day. Oops.

The following week was the coldest on record for something like 75 years and the snow didn't melt for ages. This was also the week you got a mysterious bumpy red rash ALL over your back. Two days later when I picked you up from Janice's you were sporting a temperature of 102. Your first temperature EVER. I was a teeny bit concerned but I know I can't keep the viruses and bacteria away from you forever so we stocked up on children's tylenol and tried to get you to bed as early as possible. Not two hours after you had been tucked in you woke up, a most uncommon occurrence nowadays, and so I went to check on you and that's when I realized you were a roasting little inferno. So, I took your temperature which was not nearly as easy as it sounds considering we had to put the thermometer in your armpit and hold it there for an eternity before we heard the wretched little finishing "beep" and that's when we realized your fever had spiked to 103. In less than 4 seconds I had Children's Hospital on the phone while surfing the Internet about fever's in babies because I didn't have A CLUE what to do or if this was normal. It turns out your temperature can reach 104 before we needed to take you into the ER but seeing as we were just one tiny infinitesimal degree away from that number I was prepared to keep the midnight oil aflame and hold you until you were able to fall asleep.

Except you never fell asleep for more than 39 seconds at a time and then you'd wake up in a burst of tears and I had to carry you around while you struggled to get comfortable, drooling and dribbling all over my shoulders, face, and hair. It was a long night, I didn't get to bed until 5 am when you had finally crashed out of sheer exhaustion. You were up again at 7 am and so was I. We scheduled an appointment with Dr. Stein and went in around 9:30. And after you were poked, prodded, and swabbed we found out that you had THE FLU and it turns out there's nothing other than "rest and fluids" when it comes to flu treatment in a baby. So, that's what we did. You were a real trooper though, after that terrible, terrible night, your fever continued to drop and after a few days and lots of extra naps you were back to your old self. I, however, was no so fortunate and suffered through the flu the following weekend. I didn't have the luxury of being carried around and held all night but the liberal doses of Nyquil and Theraflu made up for it.

It turns out that the same time the flue was working it's way through your system 4 teeth were attempting to make their presence known. You are now the proud owner of two dainty little bottom teeth, and two razor sharp top teeth, one of which came in much more quickly then the other and you have a bit of Quasimodo thing going on and it looks like you've inherited the Cachares "gap". Yes, I think you're in for some serious orthodontia work in the future but for now your the most charming toothy baby that ever was.

Your vocabulary is a whopping 4 words now: Mama, Dada, Baba, Ba (Ball) with a few random words thrown in the mix like Mon-Mon for Bonnie. You've started giving hugs, we call 'em squeezes, and you get SO excited by this, you hug everything, your ball, Henry, the furniture, , a head of lettuce. There have been a few attempts at kisses but it's more of an open-mouth slobbery mess and your always aiming for the chin. You still have a lot to learn in that area.

I have a feeling you'll be walking on or before you first birthday. You hardly hold on to us when we hold your hands and have you step around the house (there's was one evening where you goose-stepped everywhere, these high, straight-leg kicks, it was rather hilarious) and you've got the cruising thing down. The other morning we were all in the family room, spending a lazy Sunday morning together, when all of a sudden you hoisted your blue ball up over your head and you stood up all on your own and then casually attempted to toss your ball across the room! Your Dada and I were amazed! We had no idea you had it in you, we just sat their with our eyes like saucers, jaws gaping. Meanwhile you were as nonchalant as ever, like, "Geez, people, ever seen a baby before?! Sheesh." I swear, if you could have rolled your eyes, you would have.

Your fascination with the cats has grown and with it their aversion to you. I think it's your volume and the fact that you haven't mastered "gentle hands" yet but still have a bone-crushing grip when it comes to grabbing their fur, ears, or tails. Bonnie will at least let you pet her with my close supervision while Amelia bolts for the nearest exit just at the idea that you might be sharing the same room. In spite of their lack of enthusiasm you are always excited to see them and continue your efforts at catching them, never getting frustrated or upset no matter how often they run away.

I'm amazed by you every single day. You've changed from a poopy, fussy, slug-baby, into the most charming little boy, full of personality and light. You shine, little bean! People notice you wherever we go! At the Cherry Creek play area you'll crawl up to total strangers and give them your 1,000 watt smile and you're willing to try anything, crawling through a tunnel, going down a slide, flying on a swing, anything goes! I can't wait to see where that sense of adventure takes you and I'll be there, cheering you on!

Love Forever:

Mama

Date Night

2011-03-07T10:14:00.000-08:00

Kris and I had the opportunity to enjoy our SECOND date night since Cohen was born. Of course, we jumped at the opportunity to spend several hours away from the house sans bebe and to make the night even more memorable we tried a new restaurant, Ted's Montana Grill. Honestly, we could have dined just about anywhere and I would have given the meal 5 stars simply because I was able to use both hands to eat and not pick Cheerios out of my water glass. I took photographs throughout the meal to commemorate such a monumental achievement and after we overcame the nagging feeling that we had indeed forgotten something we had a fantastic time. Like all good things, they must eventually come to an end, and even though we had no curfew we returned home just before nine, because we're boring old people who find it difficult to keep our eyes open without the aid of toothpicks after about 8 pm.

Photos taken with the Retro Camera App for Droid

The Passing Of Time

2011-02-25T08:07:00.000-08:00

Easter 1943 (April 25)

This year Easter was a great disappointment. For one thing, it was dark and damp. Nobody want to go parading in her best clothes when it's raining. Then, the war prevented many of the gay things that usually go with Easter. There was none of the gaily colored Easter eggs, great big chocolate eggs or rabbits, or baskets filled with eggs. Cookies and cake made a poor substitute for young children. It's too common. They can have it everyday. Easter is a special day, and they should have special food.

The first thing we did on Easter morning was to go to church. My little cousin, who is only four months old, was baptized. My uncle was carrying him because it is customary for the father to carry the baby. All the fathers, mothers, and babies were lined up in front when my cousin decided he wanted to cry. My uncle did everything he could to make him stop crying, but Harry cried until just before he reached the minister. Jean, who is about five, got excited because her brother was crying that she got up and tried her best to see up to the front.

After church it was too damp to go out so I stayed at home and finished a library book that was due the next day. This Easter was so different from other Easters, since my brother wasn't at home, that it seems as if Easter is still to come. I suppose our boys feel the same way. They'll do a lot of celebrating when they come home to make up for the celebrating they've missed.

*****

My Greatest Ambition

All my life I have had but one great desire, and that is to travel all over the world. The places i have the greatest urge to visit are: India, Africa, China, and Tibet. I will give my reasons for wanting to visit these places in particular.

India always made me think of Maharajhas or of the different classes of people refusing to mingle or intermarry. Not only the people but the country itself draws my attention. Forest, or rather jungles, wild animals, and the cities.

Africa makes me think of deserts, unexplored country, and heat--definitely heat. I'd love to go into unexplored country and discovery new things and see beautiful animals and scenery.

China, the oriental section of the world, always makes me think of silks, and incense. The weird buildings and the superstitions. The long pig-tails the Chinamen wear have always held a special attraction for me, but only the people who live further inland wear them nowadays.

Tibet, that land of mystery holds a great fascination for me. I have read stories about men going into the unexplored mountains and never coming back. It is said that some of the high priests are over a hundred years old. They put great store in the proverb that the older you grow the wiser you get. It is all this mystery and unexplored regions that attracts me.

Those are the places I would like to visit first if I could ever travel.

*****

My Faults According To My Family

To my family I am one big fault, although there are times when they are glad I'm around, that is, when I do something for them. Maybe, though, it isn't s bad as it seems to me.

For one thing, I make too much noise. No matter what I do, it sees as if I can always find some way to make it noisy. If I do the dishes, I make an awful racket; when I do housework, I make a terrible din; even when I sing, I make an ear-rending sound, not heart-rending, although in some ways it could be very heart-rending. the harder I try the more noise I make.

For another thing, I always seem to be getting in to way or doing things wrong. in the kitchen I'm more of a hindrance than a help. When I walk I always seem to bump into something or someone or find something to trip over.

I sincerely hope that my family will, in some way, come to appreciate me for what I am. they always laugh when I say that. I wonder why?

Orchid

2011-02-23T05:36:00.000-08:00

This was my Valentine Gift, presented to me at work, last Monday, and I just wanted to show, for the record, that this stunning and delicate plant has not yet died in protest knowing it has me for an owner, and the black thumb that I possess. In fact, out of spite, three more blooms burst open, and several more are on the way. I'm keeping it at work for the time being, I feel its chances for survival are greater outside our home where tiny little baby hands and sharp little kitty teeth have a tendency to crush and nibble all things that cross their paths.

Carried Away By Love

2011-02-14T12:16:00.000-08:00

The Passing of Time

2011-02-11T18:10:00.000-08:00

December 7, 1942

"December 7, 1941! Flash! Pearl Harbor attacked by Japanese."

America was dazed. Pearl Harbor bombed? Impossible! But it was true. Shockingly true. Men, women, and children practically murdered in cold blood while resting on the Sabbath. A horrible, cold blooded killing which could be accomplished only by ruthless people. That was how America entered the war one year ago today.

The only effect that the war has really had on our family is: one of my older brother's being drafted, the gas rationing, and my younger brother, George, being eligible for the draft. Sugar rationing has had no effect on us because we get more sugar than we usually use. Coffee rationing isn't so bad because we get enough of that each week too. The gas rationing, though, really hit us in a vital spot. I believe my father will still be able to ride to and from work, but he will not be able to take my mother and her friends to meetings and he will not be able to go out to Indiana on the week-ends to the cottage as he has been doing all summer. All in all, we have not been affected by the war, but other people have suffered severely by losing loved ones.

I have not been affected at all by the war. It seems that the same people are being hurt all the time. The people on the coast and those within reach of the enemy planes are the ones who suffer most. The people in the Middle West are not being touched and may never know what war really is if our borders are always so well guarded.

Looking back on the things the Japs have done since the war started, I sometimes wonder what made us send so much war material over to them. It ought to be a lesson to us not to put too much faith in people we know are liable to stab us in the back.

*****

Christmas 1942

Christmas Eve was the night my father picked to finish his shopping, and since my mother was fixing the turkey, my sister at work, and my brother sick in bed, I was the one elected to go along with him. Now to be candid, I didn't want to go, but did I say so? You can bet your sweet life I didn't. I didn't want my father angry with me at Christmas, so I went along peacefully. Since most of the stores were closed we didn't get much shopping done. When we got home I had to help wrap packages, so to make a long story short, I got to bed at 11:00 P.M.

Christmas morning dawned but our house was quiet. Why? Because we were all so tired we didn't want to get up - a great difference between this Christmas and last Christmas. We finally dragged ourselves out of bed and gathered around the tree, oh yes, and the presents. Did I say presents? And how! But maybe there seemed to be a lot because some of them were so big. Well, it took us a while to get them all opened, and then, of course, we had to sit and talk for a while before getting breakfast.

After we had cleaned up, my sister went downtown to meet a sailor whom she had a date with. I sat and listened to records and my brother went over to his girl friend's house.

I didn't mention the turkey did I? Well that's something worth mentioning. I guess everyone will agree that an eighteen pound turkey is worth mentioning. It was 2:00 P.M. before it was ready and then three of us sat down to dinner; my mother, father, and I. My brother doesn't count since he couldn't eat much. After dinner we lay down for a rest. There's an old saying that only pigs lie down after they eat. Well, I must admit that I made a hog of myself that day. I couldn't look turkey in the face for a week after that, but maybe that's because we had it almost every night for a week after that.

After washing the dinner dishes, it was about 4:30 P.M., my mother, father, and I sat dow to play pinochle, and I must say we ended our Christmas quietly.

Fragments

2011-02-08T18:52:00.000-08:00

I was lucky enough to find this under the Christmas Tree and read it, cover to cover, within 48 hours. It's extraordinary and riveting. The depth and sincerity in Marilyn Monroe's writing is amazing and reveals a complex woman that was very human and was never truly given the credit for being more than a bubble-headed pin up. And in spite of that she persisted with her reading, tackling books that I have yet to crack a cover on due to their cerebral and academic content. Just one more quality that makes her fascinating and endearing, even after all these years.

The Passing Of Time

2011-01-14T18:50:00.000-08:00

Chapter IV

View Points And Opinions

Thanksgiving, 1942

On Thursday morning November 26, 1942, I woke up and wondered why I hadn't put my hair up the night before. I thought, "Well, I'll just have to fix it so I'll at least be presentable in school today." Then it came on me in a flash. There is no school today! I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Later I was awakened by the rattle of dishes in the kitchen and my mother calling to everybody to get up. With a curious feeling in the pit of my stomach I sat down at the table with the rest of the family. I sat there looking around. This was the first time since Christmas, I think, that the whole family had been at the breakfast table together.

After breakfast I rushed around getting ready for the game. I mean, of course, the Thanksgiving game between Pullman Tech and Fenger. I had to be at school early, because I was going to sell meghophones(sic); so I left all the cleaning up to my mother and sister.

When the girl who was going to sell the meghophones(sic) with me came, we gathered them up and went out to the field. We were only out about ten minutes before our toes and fingers began to get numb. We stood there yelling to the people that if they had any school spirit they would buy a meghophone(sic) and help cheer our team to victory. We even accosted some of the Fenger cheerleaders, but, no soap. Oh, we sold some, but not as many as we had hoped. Why even my brother and his boy friend wouldn't buy one.

Just before the game started, however, we gave up trying to sell them and went to get a place to watch the game. Gosh! How we hoped our team would give Fenger a tough time. According to us, we were going to slaughter Fenger, but you can have an awful lot of spirit and optimism and still not have the size and power to do a thing. That is Pullman all over. Siprit (sic) and optimism? Oh, we have plenty, size and power? Oh, we wish we had plenty.

Even so, we gave Fenger a scare in the second half when the score was 13-7. They thought we were going to get another touhdown, in fact so did we, so they started putting in fresh men and pushig our team back to our own goal line. Numb feet or no numb feet, I jumped up and down yelling my lungs out to "Hold that line." They did. Talk about spirit! Boy, oh boy! We showed it that time. Then our hearts dropped to our boots, even though we couldn't feel them we knew that's where our hearts dropped, because Fenger was shoving us back. Back, back and further back we went. We thought we were going to hold them. We were jumping and screaming to "Hold that line." Fenger made another play; there was a pile up; we thought they hadn't made it; the referees gathered around; we were yelling "They didn't make it;" and then--the referee held up his arms. A touchdown! The score--19-7. They didn't make the kick but, so what! they made a touchdown, that's all that mattered. Who cared about the kick? They were still winning. But! we were still cheering our team on. Even though we had been hoping with all our hearts that we would win, we had known that our team wasn't quite up to par. Down deep we had known Fenger would win but we were hoping they would have a tough time doing it, and they did. They were scared out of their wits for a minute, thinking we might tie the score or even beat them. Can we help it if the lion is stronger than the cub? The cub could have the spirit and the will but still be defeated because of the lion's greater strength.

The game over, I trudged home. My feet seemed like blocks of ice riveted to my ankles. When I reached home the smell of turkey and other food that makes up Thanksgiving dinner soon made me forget my feet.

As we sat down to a bountiful meal, my mother remarked, "Sitting down to this big meal makes me feel selfish when I think of the poor folk over in Europe who will be eating whatever they can get and be glad to get it." That made me stop to think. Over here in America we had turkey, sweet potatoes, white potatoes, cranberry sauce, two vegetables, milk, cake, cookies, and a dessert, while over in Europe the people would be glad to get what they could and be grateful for it. It suddenly made me realize how this war is wrecking the lives of people all over the world, not only by killing thousands but ruining the health of thousands through inadequate and improper food.

After dinner we did the dishes and went to a show. The picture was all right, but the stage show was awful. We got out of the show early and came right home, had a cup of tea, and played pinochle for the rest of the evening.

Taking all things into consideration, I think I spent a very pleasant Thanksgiving.

Journal: Nine Months

2011-01-08T05:19:00.000-08:00

Dearest Bean,

This last month was the month of "The Great Crib Debacle of 2010" where all of a sudden you no longer were content to just sleep soundly and quietly in your crib. After heeding the advice of several baby safety articles I removed your bumper from the crib since you are at the point where you can easily pull yourself to a standing position and hurl your toys across the room. Not wanting you to use the bumper as a hoisting device to then hurl yourself directly to the wood floor below, the bumper was removed and retired to the closet. This, apparently, was a huge mistake because the moment we did that the moment you stopped sleeping well in your crib what with all the legs and arms getting stuck between the bars and bumping your noggin on the exposed slats. For five days your naps and nights were completely disturbed and finally, in desperation, I set up your Pack 'n' Play in the hopes that it's flexible, slat-free sides would help get you a full nights sleep and it worked! Hallelujah. We still haven't moved you back to your crib, we aren't quite ready to risk the disturbance in sleep.

In other giant news, I went back to work full time this January. I'll tell you all about the politics and reasons behind it when you get a little older but understand that it seems to have been a lot harder on me then you. Your Nana agreed to watch you full time and she's even agreed to watch another little bebe so you'll have a playmate. Your social skills have just exploded this last month, you are so demonstrative and curious. You love to watch other children and show the utmost patience when other little boys or girls invade your space or touch your face. Adults are delighted by you and you get compliments everywhere we go on what a charming and cute baby we have. You are definitely that.

You began waving. Not a beauty pageant wave but a whole-arm, frankenstein wave. You wave good bye and hello and sometimes you will just wave at the room in general or at your "Finding Nemo" Ball. You are also quite proficient at tearing your playroom apart in a matter of seconds. The other day I had to vacuum the rug in the living room and I wasn't quite sure how you would react, considering I haven't vacuumed in an embarrassingly long time. So, we fired it up and you got so excited! You charged across the room, crawling at top speed, laughing and went right up to that roaring vacuum and smacked the top of it, as if to say, "I'm the boss around here!" You are such a funny little nut!

We finally made it to story time several weeks ago and it wasn't as cool as I thought it would be. You did great, chewing on our book of songs and playing with the instruments but I was hoping it would be a good social environment for mama's as well. Obviously, I have a lot to learn because not one other mama seemed interested in chatting it up and comparing poop stories. However, I was informed by a woman that I simply HAD to buy a certain children's music CD, one that happened to by playing in the room at the time, and that before long I would know the words to each and every song. Honestly, I was a bit horrified by this since the current CD playing sounded like a middle-aged man plucking away at his guitar that he hadn't quite learned how to play properly. I failed to mention that your music tastes at the moment resemble mine, with a heavy helping of hard rock and alternative music with a dash of Spanish guitar and you wouldn't know a nursery rhyme if it came up and poked you in the ear. Maybe it's a generational thing or maybe I just don't want you stuck in a world that is TOO kid-centric or maybe I can't stand the idea of listening to "Old McDonald" sung by a group of children handpicked by the Mickey Mouse Club. In the meantime, I'll just crank up the Metallica and hope for the best.

At your Nine Month check up we found out that your growth is back on track after taking a break between month six and seven. Apart from that there's nothing much to report. Dr. Stein said you have a pretty boring and uneventful medical history and that's alright by us. We don't mind postponing the serious stomach viruses and whopping fevers until you're a bit older.

Christmas was a whirlwind. The tree held the biggest fascination for you and we spent a lot of our time putting up a wall of toss pillows to keep you from taking it apart ornament by ornament. We also got a good exercise of the word, "No" as well. We kept presents pretty simple this year, your wardrobe is impressive to say the least, so we focused more on interactive and developmental toys. Not that it made a bit of difference, for you it was all about the wrapping and ribbon and shoving it in your mouth. Through some bizarre oversight that I am going to write off as being overwhelmed by the holidays I forgot to buy the necessary ingredients for our Christmas dinner. For the past eight Christmas' we always do a lovely homemade dinner with a "from-scratch" apple pie but this year there wasn't an apple or a potato to be found in the kitchen and I had forgotten that everyone, EVERYONE, is closed on Christmas day. So, instead of pouring ourselves a festive bowl of cereal we struck out at 4:30 Christmas afternoon to see what we could see in the way of a holiday meal. It turns out, within a 15 miles radius of our house, the only food establishments that were open at all were Chinese, Vietnamese, and Thai. We were at the point of trying to decide which was the least likely that would give us diarrhea when we drove past a Mexican restaurant that had a cheery string of Christmas lights and an "Open" sign blazing. Let Heaven and Nature sing! We'd much rather hedge our bets with a taco dish than a mysterious bowl of Pho. And that's exactly what we did. Happy First Christmas, Little Bean! It was definitely a holiday to remember! We'll do better next year!

Love Forever:

Mama

Made For Walking

2011-01-07T09:03:00.000-08:00

The Passing of Time

2011-01-01T06:43:00.000-08:00

Chapter III

Grammar School And High School Days

There isn't anything about my grammar school days that is very outstanding or in the least bit unusual. The only thing that was different was our graduation exercises. We had an operatta(sic) of Cinderella. Norma Rudnay was Cinderella, and Howard Burke was the Prince. I sang in the chorus. I'd have died of fright if I'd had to get up on the stage and sing in front of a lot of people.

I got my first permanent for graduation, and I was as proud as a peacock.

In high school I went around with Annette Sittema, Lorraine Odziomek, and Eleanore Wisniowski, in the first year. In the second year I hung around with the same group. In my third year Lorraine Dykstra was added to the group. Every time grades have come out I have made the honor roll. I hope I can keep it up.

In my first year I joined Girl's Club and the Drum Corps. In my second year I was secretary of Girl's Club, and I joined the tumbling club. I was secretary of the Drum Corps also. In my third year I joined the Weld Scientific Club, and I was vice-president of that. Also, in my third year I was on the decorating committee for the Prom.

Every year the girls of Pullman Tech. put on a show. In my freshie year I was in a drill; in my sophomore year, I was in a drill, an Indian dance, and tumbling; this year I was in an Irish dance, tumbling, and a football number.

The night that is the most exciting of the whole school year is the night of Open House. It's a lot of fun to sit and do your work, and then look up to see a sea of admiring faces.

I'm getting along pretty well in typing and shorthand. In typing I've passed my sixty-five's and in shorthand I've passed my one hundred and sixty's.

*****

Now That I Am A Junior

In coming back to school as a junior I felt quite grown up as I watched the freshmen wandering around the school. When I thought of my new subjects, thought, I didn't feel so superior.

Bookkeeping is my only new subject. I hope to get along with it, but there are always doubts about new subjects. I also have only one new instructor, but I feel that I will get along fine with her.

In looking ahead I hope to make new friends among the seniors and sophomores as well as among the freshmen. I also hope to get down to brass tacks and really study and get some enjoyment out of my classes.

My main ambition is to make the honor roll every time and also to become more popular. To sum it up, I hope for a pleasant and profitable year.

*****

I Am Proud Of My Decision

I was beginning to feel very grown up in the latter part of my last year in grammar school, for I had a great problem to solve. Should I go to Pullman Tech. or Fenger? I was frightened of both places, but I had to go to one of them. After much worrying and making up my mind and changing it again, I decided on Pullman. Then I had to to the thing I dreaded most. Go to Pullman Tech., get an application, and fill it out. That day I got a glimpse of some of the girls in their smocks. From that time on I pictured myself wearing a smock.

I was accepted at Pullman, and in September, 1940, I was launched into a very wonderful four years at Pullman Tech. or I should say, three years since I'm only in my third year. I'm positive, though, that my fourth year will be just as enjoyable as the first three. I've had so much fun that I don't want to graduate, and that's really something because in grammar school I just hated school.

I'm proud to tell people I'm a student at Pullman Tech. and tell them about the wonderful stenographers Pullman turns out. I love to watch their jaws drop and their eyes widen when I tell them of the highest speeds. Proud? I should say so. When Pullman Tech. is complimented, I feel complimented. I wouldn't change my school for anything in the world!

Cohen Meets St. Nick

2010-12-24T14:11:00.000-08:00

The Passing of Time

2010-12-24T12:30:00.000-08:00

Chapter II

CHILDHOOD

From Infancy

I was born on July 5, 1926, in Chicago, Illinois. When I was still small I took convulsions every time I had a fever. Once when my mother was carrying me upstairs to bed I stiffened out right in the middle of the stairway. My mother could neither go forward or backward, so she tilted me up to a standing position and got me back downstairs. I had measles, chicken pox, and hives. When I had the hives, my mother and the doctor were worried about me because they thought the hives might get into my throat and choke me. But I fooled them. I got better. After I'd had those diseases and didn't run a temperature anymore, I stopped having convulsions. The doctor said I'd grow out of them, and I did.

From what has been said I must have been a rather noisy child. I was what you might call "The Problem Child." To top it off I was stubborn. My cousin called me a noisy brat. Now she has a baby that's noisier than I ever was, and my mother feels like going over to her house and calling it a noisy brat.

When I was six years old, I was giving out handbills one day on the Avenue. My brother was too, and I insisted on standing in the same doorways as he did. Finally he got mad and went a couple of doorways down. My father was near so I felt quite safe. I had given out practically all my handbills when I decided I wanted to have a look at my father and brother. I looked all over for them and couldn't find (sic). Well, all my sense of security left me. I just opened my mouth and howled. All the women who were passing stopped to see what was the matter. I wouldn't talk. I just howled. Finally the policeman came over and asked me what was wrong. Well, that was different. I told him. He took me down to the police station. They asked me my name and address. They called in a police car, and I rode home in style in it. When I reached home my mother and father hadn't come in yet so I stayed with the people next door. The woman made me angry because she laughed at me for getting lost and coming home in a police car. When my mother and father came home, I was sitting on our back porch. It seems my father forgot all about me and walked off without me.

At the age of five, I started school. I remember that I was very peaceful while my mother was there, but that was while my mother was there. When I discovered she was gone, I threw a tantrum. If I ever got stubborn and sulky, I wouldn't do anything I was told to do. Once all the children were playing a game. We were supposed to stand around in a circle and one child would be in the center. He bounced the ball and whoever the ball went to that person was supposed to go in the middle. Well, I didn't want to play the game, so when the ball came to me I refused to go in the middle. The teacher thought maybe I was sick so she asked if I was. Right away I got the idea that I was sick. I said yes I was sick. I was sent into the lunchroom to lie down on the daybed. I didn't lie down very long. The cook was making the lunch and I could smell it, on top of it I was hungry. I went into the kitchen to see what there was to eat. Five minutes later I was contentedly munching a banana.

When I was seven years old, I went to the hospital for the first time in my life. I made sure that I stayed there for one day only. I had my tonsils taken out. I got an awful scare that day. When the nurses were wheeling me out of the room on the table, a nurse came in. She had a pair of scissors in her hand. She grabbed hold of my nose, ordered me to open my mouth, and prepared to put the scissors down my throat. The end was at hand; I was sure of it. I gathered myself together and made up my mind that I would not scream, pain or no pain. I was in earnest. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes. You can imagine the feeling that went through me when I heard the nurses laughing. It was an awful letdown. In fact, I felt as thought I had been cheated. There I was, prepared to be brave and what happens? I get laughed at.

When it came to the real McCoy, I didn't pretend. I screamed my lungs out. I tried to break the straps that held me down to the table, but the doctors and nurses didn't play fair. They clapped the ether over my face, and soon I was dead to the world. I was still fighting when they untied the straps. I was unconscious, but swinging my fists around very well. I socked the nurse in the stomach and nearly hit my mother on the chin. When I came to , I wouldn't let my mother out of my sight, in fact, I still don't know how she got home for supper. Anyhow, I went home that night.

When I was eight years old, I was hit by a car. Two people proclaimed me dead. My cousin, who is younger than I, and my girl friend. I was taken to the doctor's office and nearly raised the dead with my yells. I had a slight concussion, both my eyes were swelled up and were black and blue, and my knees, ankles, elbows, and face, were cut and bleeding. It took me about two or three weeks to recuperate.

Nothing much happened to me after that accept(sic) the time when I got a deep gash in my knee. The girls and boys on our block had a fued(sic) with the girls and boys on the next block. Naturally I was a ring leader. I lead our gang down the alley to meet the foe. The conquering heroine, that was me. I soon had my cockiness knocked out of me. The opposing army came thundering down on us and in an effort to get out of their way, I slipped in the gravel and fell on the jagged edge of a broken milk bottle. The battle ended in a deluge of rain. My tears. Everybody had to help me home. I still carry the scar of that heroic battle.

Business Card

2010-12-18T13:56:00.000-08:00

The Passing of Time

2010-12-17T13:25:00.000-08:00

My Mother

My mother was born in Airdrie, Lanarkshire, Scotland, in 1899. When she was nine months old the family moved to Glasgow. She lived there until she came to America in 1921.

When she was fourteen she graduated from grammar school. her brother wanted her to go to high school and learn to be a teacher, but she didn't want to. She wanted to go to work. The first day she went looking for a job she took her lunch, being quite confident that she'd get a job. She got a job at the place where her sister worked. After she'd been working a week she went to the boss and asked for a raise, and she got it. Her sister was boiling mad because my mother had been working there for only a week and already earned more that she did. My m other quit that job after a while and got another one.

During the World War she got a job as (a) street car conductor. One night it was so foggy that she was forced to stop the street car. When the fog cleared she found that she had stopped the car a few inches behind a truck.

Once when she was still in school she cut her foot and, since she went barefoot, she always got the cut dirty. One day her mother put a poultice on it, tied her to the bed post, and went out. There was a wedding down the street that she wanted to see so her older brother, Jim, crawled in the window, untied her, and they both crawled out again. Before she was halfway down the block the poultice was off and her foot was black. When her mother came home, my mother was still tied to the bed post, but she couldn't for the life of her say how her foot had gotten so dirty and the poultice just stuck on top.

There was another time when my mother and some of her girl friends were locked in the school yard. While climbing over the fence my mother got her pants caught and ripped them. When she got home, she slid them into the clothes hamper so her mother wouldn't see them. It didn't occur to her that her mother would see them when they were washed.

My mother has two sisters. Both are married and have families. She also had two brothers, Jim and George, but Jim was killed in the war and George was thrown by a bull and he died a year later. He and his boy friends were playing marbles. A woman was taking her bull to the home pasture and it started after the boys. The other boys ran but my uncle stopped to pick up his marbles, and the bull caught him and threw him into the air twice. He was never well after that.

In 1921 she came to America to live. She met my father at her cousin's house, and in 1922 she was married to him. My sister was born in 1923, my brother in 1924, and I was born in 1926. For the last few years my mother has been under a doctor's care, but her health is almost perfect now.

*****

My Father

My Father, John C. Watt, was born in Kilwinning, Scotland, on July 12, 1880. He went to school there, and in his youth he was very athletic. He played football; soccer, and entered into many bicycle races. While playing soccer, he had his knee knocked out of joint, and he hasn't been able to play much soccer since. He still carries the scars on his body from bicycle racing.

My father was a shoemaker by trade, and he owned a shoe store and a fruit and vegetable store. In the year 1908 he came to America and got a job in Pullman Shope(sic). He has worked there ever since. He is now the president of the Pullman Twenty-years Service Club, and he, also, runs the shoe stores down at Pullman.

*****

My Brother and Sister

My sister is the oldest of us three children. She was born on October 6, 1923. She went to Kohn Grammar School until she was about eleven years old, than(sic), she transferred to the Van Vilissengen Grammar School. She graduated from there in 1938 and went to Fenger High School. She graduated from Fenger in 1942, and she is now working at the First National Bank.

My brother is next to the oldest. He was born on September 18, 1924. He graduated from Kohn Grammar School in 1938 and then went to Pullman Tech. He graduated from Pullman in 1938 and went to work for the Goodman Manufacturing Company. He worked for Goodman until January 16, 1943. On January 23, 1943, he took the train to San Diego, California and a life with the United States Marines. He is now stationed in Jacksonville, Florida. We haven't seen him since he left. I am always proud to say I have a brother in the Marines.

Holiday Card 2010

2010-12-15T11:09:00.000-08:00

Journal: Eight Months

2010-12-14T12:39:00.000-08:00

Dearest Bean,

This is the latest I have ever been with your newsletter. Life seems to have gotten caught in a whirlwind of activity and between the holidays and your papa being out of town for days on end, this is the soonest chance I've had to get you caught up on the last month.

Crawling, crawling, and more crawling! You haven't quite mastered the coordination but the skills are there. Sometimes you look a bit like a drunk, other times your back end seems to be moving too quickly for your front end, and then there are these moments where you'll just be too thrilled to move at all and you just stay on all fours and squeal. And what is it with you making a bee line for the one electrical cord in our living room?! It's not even very noticeable, hidden behind a chair, off in the corner. Nevertheless, there you were, little fingers reaching, stretching for that cord and then shoving it into your mouth as quickly as possible. Even though I've hid the cord you still look for it, waiting for ol' mama to slip up so you can gleefully suck and gnaw the electric wiring to your hearts content or jam your tiny little baby fingers into the wall outlets. Here I'd thought I'd baby proofed the room. Apparently I was only fooling myself.

Gone are the days of plopping you in the center of the bed to get your bath ready, or leaving you in the middle of the rug in the living room to amuse yourself with the toys only within reach. You are ALL OVER the place, kiddo! And it seems with this new found talent you are much more independent. As soon as you got the basics of crawling down you were like, "See ya, mama, you old hag." Now you are content to play by yourself for hours, not that we would ever leave you alone for hours, what with all the running around keeping the shoes, ornaments, rugs, and dust bunnies out of your mouth. And you WANT to be moving, all the time. You will hardly sit still long enough for me to snap a picture.

One afternoon in particular, I went to lunch with a girlfriend and her 10-month old daughter sat serenely in her high chair, playing quietly, eating daintily, and generally being quite lovely. I, on the other hand, had a raucous ape attached to my head, that spit up on my leg, chewed my face, tried to grab my food, drink, silverware, and napkin without diversion, and I struggled to eat my meal with my single available hand let alone have a coherent conversation. What a fiasco! Ha! I've come to realize this is the way of boys. Even at this young tender age the difference between you and little girls is apparent. Your personality, demeanor, activity level, EVERYTHING screams "boy"!

We made our first trip to Reno, since you've been born and there were so many new people showering you with love and attention, it was wonderful. We did our best to keep you on some sort of schedule and we did get a few good naps in. Despite our best efforts there was one night when you were so exhausted you fell asleep drinking your bottle. This has never happened before! You stopped eating and everything. When I picked you up to put you in bed you didn't budge, not when I set you down, not even when I kissed your head. You slept for almost 13 hours straight!

We brought back a lot of wonderful memories and a cold that no member of the family escaped including yourself. It was the first time we've had to use the nasal aspirator (aka enema bulb) on you and you did not like it one bit. No Sireee! After all the efforts, the whining, tears, howling, and whatnot, we finally stopped trying, occasionally swiping a Puffs Plus across your dripping nose while you were looking the other way. We were all in the throes of recovering from aforementioned illness when Thanksgiving came around and we decided to go to our friend's house after all (aren't we considerate friends?! ha). We ate a lovely dinner while you sat on the floor and chewed an unsoiled diaper and painstakingly took apart the contents of your diaper bag. When you got bored with that we passed you around the table so everyone got a chance to hold the cutest baby with a dribbly nose. Definitely a Thanksgiving to remember.

Your fine motor skills are really starting to show, you can pick a cheerio up with just your thumb and pointer finger and convey it successfully to you mouth. Of course you still put your whole fist in there, cheerio and all, on the off-chance that, just maybe, you might miss the cheerio. Chicken was a huge hit, not that flesh-colored paste that comes in a jar, but REAL chicken, from the deli, torn into little bite-sized bits. Your interest in toys has grown by leaps and bounds. Right now, tupperware and balls (of the inflatable variety) are your favorites. You have started to show a dislike for certain textures, like when you shoved that bit of faux fur on my winter coat in your mouth and showed your immediate disdain. Cat hair warranted a similar reaction.

I had grand plans to take you to see Santa this Christmas and as of yet those plans have not been realized. Your papa got a driving job that has him out of town 6 days a week until after the holidays and between errands, work, laundry, and life in general there just hasn't been a minute to get you to the mall and see ol' St. Nick. I'm not so sure you could spend hours waiting in line just to yank an old man's whiskers right out of his face. Maybe next year. In spite of the hustle and bustle I still try to appreciate all the little moments I get to spend with you. And those little moments are what truly count.

Love Forever: Mama

The Passing of Time

2010-12-10T15:00:00.000-08:00

Chapter 1

Ancestry

Mother's Grandparents

Janet Cowan was born in Airdrie, Lanarkshire, Scotland. She married James Black when she was very young. He was born in Airdrie, Lanarkshire, Scotland. Janet and James Black had fourteen children. James was a weaver, and one day, at the mill, he fell into the dam. He was stone deaf after that. He was a very good-looking man, but he was, also, very vain. He was very clean, sometimes when he was up in the middle of the night, he'd wash his feet because he said walking around made the soles of his feet dirty. He lived with my grandmother for about three years before he died. He favored my aunt, and he didn't like my mother. He'd send her to the store to get something, and when she brought it, he'd send her back saying she had gotten the wrong thing. He was an old man then and very crabby. He was an educated man too. He could sit and read books day and night. Another one of his, shall I say virtues, was that he knew everybody. No matter who a person would talk about, he knew their parents, even if it was somebody in Australia. He got all of his teeth pulled out at once, and the shock of that brought on his death. He died in January 1912.

*Mother's Parents

Janet Black was one of the daughters of Janet and James Black. She was born in 1868 in Airdrie, Lanarkshire, Scotland. She was a weaver before she married George Gilmour.

George Gilmour was born in 1870 in Airdrie, Lanarkshire, Scotland. He was the son of Barbara Nisbet Gilmour, who was born at Hart Hill, Lanarkshire, Scotland. When he was small he had a bad habit of running away. George and Janet Gilmorur had five children, Jim, George, Janet, Barbara, and Margaret. My brother is named after my grandfather.

Father's Parents

Rebecca Gough was born in Kilwinning, Scotland. Before she married, she took care of her grandmother. She married James Watt who was born in Gilford, County Down,Ireland. He was a shoemaker, and he taught his sons that trade. Rebecca and James had six children, Rebecca, Mary, Anne, James, John, and Andrew.

*My mother's father died in 1942 and her mother died in 1939.

Sunrise

2010-12-10T08:27:00.000-08:00

The Passing of Time : Introduction

2010-12-03T13:55:00.000-08:00

{Cover}

The Passing of Time

Like a gently flowing stream, Time never pauses.

Like a lonely desert sentinal(sic), The World watches.

Like the rising and setting of the sun,

People live and die.

They overcome the obstacles in their path,

As they overcome mountains leading to newer

And richer lands.

*****

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my mother and father. It is through their love and wisdom that I have achieved the goals I have reached today.

*****

Introducing Myself

At the moment I can definitely say that my feeling for this autobiography is not what it should be. I suppose I should be rather glad that I am having such a wonderful opportunity to write it, but all the emotion it arouses is indifference and slight fear. The fear arises because I am afraid I shall be unable to acquire all the necessary material, and the indifference, because it seems foolish to start a thing so much ahead of time. I suppose, though, that it is the wisest move.

My appearance is not all that spectacular. The color of my hair is an ordinary brown, and so are my eyes. I am five feet six inches tall; I weigh one hundred and ten pounds, and I'm very thin. I dress according to the fad of the day. When the styles change, I change along with them. I have a fearful temper when aroused. Sometimes I am good natured, at other times very bad. My conduct at all times depends on how I feel, and my disposition, I guess, is average.

Some of my traits of character are inherited from my father, some from my mother, although my mother (says) I inherit all the bad ones from my father. Oh yes, I was born on July 5, 1926.

The above is a brief description of myself to give you an idea of what I'm like.

*****

Between the covers of an unassuming folder with bent corners and water damage is my Grandma Ruth's autobiography, a history up until 1943, carefully typed on what once were white pages. I never met my Grandma Ruth, she passed away in 1950 just 5 days after giving birth to my dad. I was always curious about the woman I was named after and when I started reading this I felt like she was writing it just for me, her candid and honest writer's voice, indicative of her time and age. The beauty of it and it's connection to my ancestry is priceless. I am sharing this here more for posterity and for my small but significant tie to this woman that makes us family. Her history is a part of mine.

Disguise

2010-12-03T09:39:00.000-08:00

Chico in November

2010-11-21T07:37:00.000-08:00

Exclusive

2010-11-20T06:44:00.000-08:00

While I was standing in line at Target trying to convince Cohen that playing with his crackle book would be just as much fun as chewing on the economy size bag of cat food I noticed this among all the smut rags. For those of you who don't know, I am a HUGE fan of classic films and their players. I collect biographies on Marilyn Monroe, Clark Gable, Jean Harlow, Betty Grable, Sidney Poitier, just to name a few. I have yet to come across someone who shares this passion, or at least someone who doesn't also remember the Great Depression or the signing of the Declaration of Independence. While most kids my age had a crush on Jesse from Full House or Devon Sawa I preferred Cary Grant and Gene Kelly who seemed much more sophisticated albeit dead.

I purchased this Vanity Fair without hesitation.

I love how over 45 years after her death Marilyn can grace the cover of a coveted fashion periodical and still hold her own among the new, younger, and more current faces of today. Even in her films Marilyn had a way of inadvertently drawing the audience to her, even when other actresses, equally dazzling on their own shared a scene with her, they always seemed less graceful, less vibrant, almost dowdy. I have over a dozen books on Ms. Monroe and her story, all varieties of it, never ceases to fascinate me. Although I have a tendency to lean more toward the idea that she was less of a selfish, drug-addled, mental case and more of an innocent, dreamy, individual who struggled to leave a painful and abusive past behind her. This article is based on the release of a new book, Fragments by Stanley Buchthal and Bernard Comment, which includes exerts from Marilyn's personal diaries and journals.

This book currently tops my Christmas Wish List.

Journal: Seven Months

2010-11-09T18:41:00.000-08:00

Dearest Bean,

Another month down and, at the risk of sounding like a repetitive bore, you just keep getting more and more wonderful! This past month you have fallen into a REAL schedule, no more wondering if and when you were going to cry through that afternoon nap or if you'd wake up at 4 am or 8 am and it was WORK, boy. Several people told me about getting you on a schedule, people who are parents themselves, decent parents at that, and I thought that was something I could do around, oh, week TWO. HA! What a silly, brainless mama I was. So, months went by, and there was a lot of weeping and gnashing of teeth, mostly mine, and it seemed like we would never make progress, or you'd have one good day out of a dozen and I would just start feel the tension give a little and then you'd be back at it, just being an ornery baby that couldn't be bothered with something as simple as a schedule. Now we've finally turned a corner and I am SO utterly relieved. Phew!

I fully expected your first teeth to come in this past month but they've been MIA, which doesn't do anything to explain all the drool and gnawing on any and every surface within an inch of your face. And size is no deterrent, be it a cheerio or a couch, you show no prejudice when it comes to chewable objects. I started making your food a little more "texture-y" just to coax those little incisors to push their way through. We're still waiting.

When I picked you up from your Nana's a few days ago you were sporting a rather impressive black eye and it turns out you had a run-in with a very hard, plastic, toy. Why do they do that, those toy companies, make a baby's toy out of the hardest surface on the planet? So, of course, while you were sitting there minding your own business and your head just got a little too heavy and pitched you forward, you smacked it. I was horrified at first, my precious babe, swollen and bruised but then I figured, "That's life" and it didn't even require a trip to the ER. Two bonus points for you! It only took about 3 days for the bruising to go away just in time for you to beam yourself in the face with your musical maraca. Oh, the wonder of boys!

You've started having these massive poops and I know it must have to do with the change in your diet, all those solid foods and whatnot. It wouldn't be so bad, really, if you didn't have them at the most inconvenient times. I went to visit a friend who owns a lovely card shop and the moment we parked I knew something was amiss. So, I thought I'd do a quick change in the back seat until I noticed that your bowel movement had blown up your back into your hair. Being prepared, like a good mama, I had a spare change of clothes and fresh diapers but I've never had to do a full "Clark Kent to Superman" on you in the back seat of a Passat and since you've gotten so mobile it's more like dressing a giant squid covered in vaseline. You are THAT squirmy, rolling over, refusing to bend arms, legs, or torso, grabbing my face, chewing my shoulder, throwing your head back to look at what?! the sky? the ceiling upholstery? the historic bungalow being renovated? etc. I was finally able to strip you down to just the skin you were born in, gave you a quick "wipe" bath, attach a dry, poop-free diaper to you're person, and get you dressed like a proper baby! I was so proud, sure it took a half hour, but we did it. I felt like Super Mama. So we went for our visit and you chewed on paper and were charming in every way possible and it wasn't until we were headed back to the car that I noticed you still had a bit of poo dried to your forehead. Minus four points for me.

You are on the VERGE of crawling. You've got the "Rocking on All Fours" down and you occasionally get very zealous in your rocking and you'll pitch forward onto your face and lay there for a few seconds before pushing yourself up and doing it all over again. I started taking you the play area at Cherry Creek Mall because the flooring is wonderful, like walking on marshmallows and I figured it would be a great place to practice your mobility. Except, it's always packed with a million screaming kids. And in spite of the height restriction there's always a group of prepubescent Neanderthals lurching around without any consideration for the tiny baby's underfoot. So, I hover around you at all times, creating a little bubble of safety for you to pick at the loops in the carpet in peace.

Lincoln, the other baby who kept you company at Nana's, moved back to Kentucky with his parents and I've been trying to think of ways to keep you socialized. I discovered our local library has a Story Time just for babies but unfortunately we have yet to make it since it's at a rather inconvenient time, smack in the middle of your morning nap. I certainly am not about to wake you up. I know you love all the activity and noise at the Cherry Creek play area and there is just so much to look at but it's a bit of drive. Hopefully, your Nana finds another little baby to keep you company. A baby smaller than Lincoln, preferrably, that kid was GIANT and he was only a few weeks older than you. That couldn't have been good for your self esteem.

We celebrated your first Halloween last month and you went as the most adorable three-eyed monster there ever was. We paraded you around the mall and took you to my company costume BBQ but we didn't feel right about banging on people's doors and demanding candy for a baby that doesn't have a tooth and eats food pureed to a paste. We'll save that for next year. You were very interested in the pumpkins we carved and kept reaching for all knives and saw-like utensils. You even stayed up an hour past your bedtime to share in all the festivity. Of course we paid for it dearly the next day but it was worth it. I'm always fascinated when I see baby's out and about any time past 7 pm just because I don't think you are physically capable of being awake that long. EVER. I don't mind so much that you sleep more than a cat because I'd rather have you awake for 2 hours, bouncing, bubbly, and squealing then the alternative, which is you turning into a gremlin that tries to claw out my eyes. I know it won't last forever and it's just one of many adjustments I have had to make since you came into our lives.

You have recently become very aware and curious of the world around you and I love watching you take in everything for the first time. Like when I set you down in the leaves and you picked them up one by one, crunching them between your fingers, tasting them, waving them high, then low. You spent the better part of a half hour mesmerized with all the colors, textures, smells, and sounds around you and I thought my heart would burst with love. There is nothing in this world that can prepare you for the trials and challenges of being a parent but there is also nothing that can prepare you for the joy and love either. Thanks for making every day so extra special.

Love Forever:

Mama

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T13:50:00.000-07:00

Jack 'O

2010-10-29T19:32:00.000-07:00

Went to my first Pumpkin Carving Party...this is the result. The Sistine Chapel it is not but you can't go wrong with a classic single-toothed grin. I spent more time setting up this shot then actually carving. I am delighted with both.

Flame

2010-10-28T10:23:00.000-07:00

5 Best Baby Items...

2010-10-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

I meant to post this ages ago, along with the first edition of the "5 Worst Baby Items..." and I have only just now gotten around to it. Seeing as it's only fair to give credit where credit is due and these, by far, were the items that we got the most mileage out of since bringing Master Cohen home from the hospital:

Burp Clothes/Diapers. We started using this IMMEDIATELY, what with all the poop, pee, spit up, and general dribbling taking place. They can hold gallons of liquid but they're soft enough to use when wiping the bean's chin for the thousandth time. We have them in every room of the house and when the time comes we just pop them in the wash and they come out as good as new.

Miracle Blanket. After about the first month Cohen was able to burst from any swaddling attempts we made which resulted in him waking himself up after sleeping for about 25 seconds. We had purchased another "swaddle blanket" with velcro straps but the Miracle Blanket, hands down, was the clear winner. It was the only way we could get the bean to sleep longer than 45 minutes at night and to take a true nap during the day. We got by with just using one but the next time around (HA!) I'll definitely make sure we have several of these on hand.

Aveeno Baby Moisture Lotion. After our run in with Johnson & Johnson's Rash Inducing Bed Time Lotion we were pretty leery about putting products on Cohen's skin and after a few trial and error attempts we started using the Aveeno products. They worked wonders with his dry skin and now he boasts a soft and perfectly kissable complexion, which he clearly did NOT inherit from his mama.

Candleloo Lamps. Okay, so these aren't necessarily a baby item but they were invaluable when it came to nighttime feedings. We had originally outfitted Cohen's room with a nightlight but it started proving a major distraction early on with Cohen staring at it when he should have been eating or sleeping. So we tossed the plug-in and started using these Candleloo Lamps instead. They have just enough light to see what needs to be seen for feedings/diaper changes/cleanups but not enough to completely suck Cohen in and keep his attention. The great thing about them is you can take them where you need them, changing table, dresser, nightstand etc., they have a power switch on the bottom, and they don't scream BABY DECOR.

The Arc Thrift Stores. Apart from what we were gifted all of Cohen's clothes, blankets, bibs, hats etc. were secondhand. When you love to shop, as I DO, learning to appreciate and love thrift stores is a must. Otherwise we would be poor. Very, very poor. So, thanks to all those lovely people out there donating their slightly used, sometimes brand new, with the tags, clothes, linens, furniture, books, you name it and I've probably bought it. We were able to put together quite an impressive layette for less then $50 when it was all said and done. Who says the average nursery costs a whopping $5000?! Ridiculous. All you have to do is spend a few weekend afternoons rummaging through the racks and bins at the Arc on Colfax. And every Saturday, practically the entire store is 50%. Wahoo!

Evinrude

2010-10-27T09:56:00.000-07:00

Business Card

2010-10-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

Bonnie

2010-10-08T17:24:00.000-07:00

Journal: Sixth Month

2010-10-07T18:45:00.000-07:00

Dearest Bean,

We did it! We have survived to make it to this HALF YEAR milestone! I can hardly believe it. Where's the fireworks? Where's the cake? Where's the parade? It certainly feels like there should be some sort of celebration besides another round of booster shots. In the past two weeks you have really started to change and I understand when people talk about the Babymoon phase. It may have taken us a bit longer to get there but, man oh man, it was worth it.

You kicked off this past month by deciding naps were a terrible nagging inconvenience and the only reason I keep harping on your obvious disdain for sleeping during daylight hours is because I hope some poor, frazzled mama in her search for solidarity will stumble across this blog, and breathe a sigh of relief because, THANK GOD, they are not the only person on the planet who has a baby that treats naps like a chance encounter with amoebic dysentery. However, at this most current writing your naps are getting better, much better, and that's all I'm going to say before the universe decides to totally screw me over on that.

We had been mixing rice cereal into your bottle and that went well until one week the rice cereal decided staying in your belly was simply out of the question and came spewing out of your face with a shocking amount of force, I was waiting for your head to start spinning. At first we thought it was just a fluke but several dozen loads of laundry later we finally (FINALLY) stopped giving you the rice cereal and you have not been Exorcist baby since. I did try spoon feeding the rice cereal but that was a no go as well, so the rice cereal is out. The sweet potatoes and applesauce are a huge hit and I've spent the better part of my weekends baking, stewing, and steaming vegetables, then blending them to mush and freezing them for your meals. Next up, zucchini and peas. Feel free to resent and loathe peas. Your papa and I do so it's probably wired into your DNA. I tried mixing formula into your breast milk and your very finicky palate was appalled. There wasn't any amount of coaxing to get you to take that bottle. I even had your papa try and you weren't fooled for a minute. You just want the good stuff and I can't blame you. I got one whiff of that crap and gagged, you'd think they would have done something to the smell and the taste to make it more appealing. Barf.

We took you to the zoo except I'm not really sure you knew you were surrounded by exotic and some not-so-exotic animals. I got to use your new stroller and I only managed to "stroll" you into a curb and fence on one occasion. Then there was the time I failed to set the brake and you ended up taking a brief trip all on your own, completely unaware there was no one at the wheel. It would appear your mama needs to pay better attention meanwhile you were perfectly well behaved.

Just last week we purchased your very first Halloween costume and I am so excited for the 31st to get here. I have always looked forward to having my own children to share holidays with, especially the holidays that I wasn't allowed to participate in. Halloween, specifically, has always been fascinating to me and what can be better than dressing up and filling a pillowcase full of "fun size" candy and shouting "trick or treat" at the top of your lungs?! I can hardly wait until you're old enough to enjoy this incredibly fun and spooky day, to choose your costume and pick a pumpkin from the patch, and to see that just because you may not fully understand a holiday doesn't make it wrong, sinful, occultic, or something to be feared but, rather, an opportunity to have a laugh and make some memories.

Because of a crashed network and schedules that couldn't be re-worked on such short notice I ended up missing your sixth month appointment and I will try my very hardest to never let that happen again but your Papa took you and everything was right as rain. Not much changed regarding your height, weight, and head size and I can honestly say I'm a little relieved. It seemed like you were growing WAY too fast and all of a sudden, the time is whizzing by, and I'm trying to hold onto all these special wonderful moments each day. I've been keeping a calendar and filling out your baby books in the hope that I can capture the joy and wonder of this time. I'm certain you're going to grow up thinking your mama's face has been replaced with a Nikon D50. There is just so much going on and I don't want to miss a moment of it. These past few weeks have been a whirlwind of firsts. First reach, first hair grab, first babble that sounded like "ma-ma", first spit bubbles, first raspberries, first unassisted sit up, first thumb suck, first foot in your mouth. I know there are many more firsts to come and I'm on the edge of my seat!

Love Forever:

Mama

Gerbera

2010-09-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

Journal: Fifth Month

2010-09-07T17:44:00.001-07:00

Dearest Bean,

This last month was a doozie and it really wasn't your fault at all. To start things off we made our first trip to Children's Hospital after we went to the local ER. You had officially "slept through" the night on Friday and both your Papa and I were amazed! We even got up before you at around 7:15 am and as we were quietly getting ready for the day your Papa checked in to see if you were close to waking up and there you were, silently rolling around your bed. So he picked you up and changed your soaked and soiled diaper without turning on the lights. Then he passed you along to me for your first meal of the day and that's when I noticed you weren't your usual chipper self. You were still acting tired and not just tired but completely exhausted. You had NO interest in food, none, it just seemed like a huge inconvenience to have to eat breakfast and after about 5 minutes you just stopped all together. So I picked you up and you buried your head into my shoulder and just laid there, like a rag doll. It was dreadful. You didn't respond to anything and then you threw up, all over me. At that point I went to lay you on your changing table and I noticed some of your diaper had leaked onto the pad. I flipped on the light and got a new cover and when I went to remove the dirty one I saw that there was blood mixed in with your stool. And then I freaked out!

Within minutes we were off to the hospital only 5 days after we had to take your Papa there for stitches. Luckily for us they weren't very busy so early on a Saturday morning and they were able to get you right in. It was so heartbreaking to see the teeny tiny heart monitor hooked up to your big toe that's still the size of a small chickpea. You hardly fussed at all, you were too busy being an indifferent limp noodle which is NOT a good thing. They took samples from your diaper, they drew blood, and they hooked you up to an IV. The nurses weren't very experienced with wee babies and your IV became a bit of an ordeal and that was the first time all morning you showed your displeasure with the current state of affairs. On one hand it was wonderful to see you show some kind of emotion on the other it was heart wrenching to see you so miserable. The doctor assigned to you told us that it was possible you had an intussusception, which is where the small intestine telescopes into the large intestine and left untreated can LEAD TO DEATH. God knows what she was thinking telling brand new, first-time parents something as terrible as that! I'm already anxious about what is going on in your tiny body and she has go throwing around things like DEATH. This ramped up my anxiety to scared out of my wits and what the HELL are we going to do?! She explained that you needed to have an xray to confirm her suspicions and after waiting 45 minutes for her to coordinate aforementioned xray she tells us that the hospital isn't equipped to handle this particular kind of xray and we need to go to Children's Hospital which is 45 minutes away. I couldn't believe it, one minute she's talking about your impending demise then next there is absolutely NO sense of urgency to get you the medical attention that can possibly save your life. Can someone please get us out of this rabbit hole we stumbled into?

During the 2 hours we were at the ER you kept having dirty diapers and this was most concerning because they were just this wretched bloody mucus. I may have minimal knowledge about the specific workings of the intestines and colon but I do know that bloody diapers are NOT normal. After they told us we needed to go to Children's we got you in the car, stopped by the house to pick up a bottle, took a small detour so your Papa and I had something to eat and jumped on the freeway ready with the excuse that our 4 month old son was possibly DYING in the back seat should we get pulled over for speeding. We checked in with the nurse on duty and fed you your second meal of the day which you threw up after 2 minutes. Finally, FINALLY, we got taken to your room, and several nurses and doctors trooped in and checked your vitals, your diaper, pressed on your belly and soft spot, looked in your ears and then all mentioned how it was possible you had intussusception. We were taken to a giant xray room where we had to strip you down to just the skin you were born in and your Papa and I had to hold you in position for the three different xrays they needed. I was holding back the tears, you looked so small and vulnerable. You weren't happy about it at all. So you peed all over that awful, awful machine.

We then went back to your room to wait for the results and you were so tired of it all. You hadn't gotten a decent nap in 5 hours, you weren't able to keep food down, and on top of it all we were in this strange and sterile environment that offered zero comfort and every time I was able to get you to fall asleep in my arms someone would come in to check your temperature or make a great deal of noise for absolutely NO reason and wake you up. The results of your xray turned out to be "inconclusive" which means they couldn't tell "for SURE" whether or not you had intussusception or not. So they decided to do an "air enema" just in case. Because nothing says fun like having air blown up your ass.

Around this time you started to act more like your usual self even though your diapers were still far from normal and you were able to keep your third meal down. All very good signs but that still didn't give you a free pass out of your "air enema". Your Papa and I weren't able to stay in the room with you when they did that particular procedure and that was fine with me, I was already traumatized from the previous 6 hours and was perfectly content leaving you in the capable hands of the medical personnel and going in the adjoining waiting room and watching all the tropical fish swim around their tank and refusing to let my mind wander to what was taking place in the next room.

They brought you back to us all in one piece and I wish I could have gotten a picture of your face. It was priceless. Something along the lines of "What the @&!%! Do you guys have ANY idea what they just did to me?!" And I am sorry about that but at the time we were really given only two options: A) your son, the shining light of your life, could DIE or B) you can let us blow air up his ass and everything will be just fine. Option B seemed like the lesser of two evils.

After it was all said and done they told us that you probably just had some Stomach Virus but at least we'd ruled out all the serious things, like DEATH. At 3:30 in the afternoon we were cleared to take you home and we left completely exhausted but SO unbelievably thankful that you were okay. We gave you a bath and a proper meal and had you in bed by 6:30 pm and you didn't budge until 7:30 the next morning. Of course, I was in and out of your room every 90 minutes just to make sure you were okay, still breathing. The next morning you were back to your regular self, grinning from ear to ear and squealing with joy.

Two weeks later someone who has spent a great deal of time with you mentioned that you showed signs of being Autistic...and I freaked out for the second time this month.

There is a bit of back story to this. You were coming off 5 days of terrible, awful naps, and when you get tired you become a cranky inconsolable troll. Despite our best efforts you had refused to sleep longer than 20 minutes and the result was spending the days with the howling banshee you had become. At the end of these 5 days you happened to spend some time with this person when they made this God awful suggestion. At the time I was run ragged from such a long stretch of you being a grouch and I was not in the proper mindset to even know what to say to that. WHAT do you say to something like that? I was HORRIFIED. So I'm driving you home, crying, my mind scrambling to recall any and all facts regarding autism, which amounted to about three, none of them good. I continued blubbering while getting you ready for bed, as you gnawed on my shoulder, happily oblivious. I spent the next 6 hours scouring the Internet for information, googling things like "symptoms of autism in infants". This is when the Internet can be a very VERY bad resource because you get tossed an extreme mixed salad, between links to "gluten-free" diets and vaccine theories to the four hundred "symptoms" that could potentially, maybe, kinda, be indicative of autism in an infant but then again, probably not. I spent the next day sitting there, assessing every tiny thing you did, rather than play and enjoy my time with you I was making mental checklists. Without any prompting from me, you babbled incessantly, you made frequent eye contact, you turned toward sounds, you watched the cats, you were engaging, bright-eyed and responsive. In other words you showed no signs of autism and after talking to someone who actually KNEW and DIAGNOSED children with autism I felt much MUCH better. I should have given myself more credit as your mama to know that the source of the suggestion had no education or experience with autistic children and that your behavior for the previous four and a half months was nothing but normal. I just wish this person would have taken two seconds to THINK about making a comment like that and realize one should not suggest to a new mama that their son has any form of a disability without being certain, for sure, and absolutely positive with lots of clinical evidence to back it up and even then, get a second opinion. Otherwise, shut the hell up.

It is important for me to tell you that even if you had/have autism, that doesn't change how I feel about you. I am still crazy about you, filled with love to the brim for you, still wildly proud and protective. I just hadn't even let my mind drift to that possibility and it would be OK if that was the case and in all my Internet searching I did find that there are amazing programs in place for children with disabilities, specialists that are eager to help, and a huge network of friends and families to support you. I knew that, no matter, I had an infinite amount of resources and I would do whatever it took to get you the help and support you needed. No matter what the cost. As it turns out, I don't need to take advantage of these resources at the moment but I am so grateful they are there. Just in case.

As far as your development is going, you are a regular pro at reaching and grabbing, like you've been doing it for the past 5 months, and that grip...holy moly. You're a regular Hercules. A few things have fallen into your grasp like my hair, earrings, lip, nose, Amelia, Bonnie, your Papa's goatee, etc. that have caused more than a little discomfort and there was the one time you tried to squeeze my Adam's apple into juice but you have responded very well to having the above items pried from you grasp. You just reach for the next available object and shove it in your mouth.

We go for walks everyday in the stroller. You are very mellow on these adventures, and we have yet to come across something that you dislike, not the barking dogs, the Harley spluttering by, or the lawn mowers. You just look around, very curious, but never ruffled. We've met lots of friendly people on our walks and everyone always makes such a fuss over you and I can't blame them. We always take Henry with us, your bunny. Before you were born I was very keen on the name Henry, I've always thought it was a very strong, very masculine name, with a hint of kindness. But your Papa didn't care for the name at all. So when your Auntie Em gifted you this precious bunny I named him Henry, because it seemed to just fit perfectly. So the name has stuck and whenever we go anywhere, out and about or to bed, Henry's always there. We did have a scare when Henry fell out of the stroller and I didn't notice until we got back from our walk but Grama C ran the route and found him, safe and sound, partially hidden under a bush and brought him back home. Now we have a ribbon to keep him from taking any more tumbles.

We tried giving you rice cereal on a spoon but that ended badly, with you vomiting the contents of your stomach all over me, so we are going to wait another week or two before giving it another shot. My guess is that your little system isn't quite ready for it and another month on breast milk isn't such a bad thing at all. You've started holding the bottle all on your own. It seemed like you got the hang of it in an instant, one day you were content just having the bottle held in your mouth, the next, you used your bone-crushing grip to hold that bottle, as if to say, "I don't need you, woman! Check out this opposable thumb action!" Before I know it, you'll be tying your own shoes, graduating high school, moving out, getting married, and visiting your "old" mother who will always remember the day you were born and remember how it changed her life and made it remarkable.

Love Forever:

Mama

Bunny Bird

2010-09-06T06:20:00.000-07:00

Sea Legs

2010-08-13T08:51:00.001-07:00

Journal: Fourth Month

2010-08-09T10:25:00.001-07:00

Dearest Bean,

I would have had this posted sooner but for the unexpected trip to the ER that resulted in your father getting 16 stitches in his arm and wrist but that's another story...

...Is it really 4 months already? It wasn't until someone asked me how old you were the other day and I had to stop and do the math and I realized that, yes, indeed, you had reached 4 months! And what a transformation! All those baby books said that fussiness peaks at 6 weeks and usually between weeks 12 and 16 a wonderful, cheery, bouncy baby emerges. As soon as week 12 hit I was waiting for the transformation, watching eagerly for the signs and...nothing. You stayed just as ornery as before, with a fussiness that made me want to chuck you in your room until you decided to be a somewhat tolerable part of the family. So the weeks rolled by and I started to wonder if you were going to be an anomaly. A rare form of baby that just stayed fussy and wretched well into adulthood and I wouldn't be able to take you anywhere EVER or if we did we would have to offer excuses about your permanent case of the Grumples while we hung our heads in shame.

So I didn't have very high hopes when week 16 rolled around, I simply expected things to continue as usual but that Monday, exactly 112 days since you came into this world you changed, miraculously into the most wonderful glorious babe! For whatever reason, you just needed to hang on to those newborn days until the very last instant and then POOF! You were ready to face each day with the biggest grin! And that was just the beginning...you have sprouted into this ever growing and changing little person. Even while I'm typing this I'm sure you're learning something new.

Your love of music was the first thing that started to emerge. We have this toy hanging from your car seat that plays several different tunes and one day, out of nowhere, you starting "singing" along. Not just random baby sounds, you actually followed the tune. It was so amazing I just kept pressing that button playing those little snippets of song over and over again and each time you obligingly gave a performance. You even did it while family was visiting! It wasn't just my imagination after all. You had skills! Awesome, musical skills!

You're rolling over all of a sudden. There wasn't any hint that you even had the coordination to do something so paramount but there you were on your stomach wedged in the corner of your crib sleeping as peaceful as could be. And there's absolutely no point in trying to flip you back over since you will immediately shift your hips and flip to your belly. Tummy time has ceased to exist since you know how to get out of it now and it really isn't an issue since you hold your head high and proud, better than some adults I've noticed. You definitely prefer to be upright rather than lying down so you spend a great deal of time in your Bumbo or Bouncy Seat watching the cats or chewing on whatever is handy. You have reached the point where all things must be investigated with your mouth, burp clothes, diapers, blankets, toys, fingers, shoulders, and, on one unfortunate occasion, Amelia's tail all ended up smothered in your dribbles.

We started giving you rice cereal in your bottle just before bed and you haven't seemed to notice one way or the other but it's a start. In a few weeks we can start feeding you with a proper spoon. You're first encounter with those rubbery little utensils went very well, you chewed if for several minutes then proceeded to wave it around, smacking yourself in the head several times. You didn't seem phased one bit. I'm sure it's just sneak preview for things to come, food particles EVERYWHERE! That's okay, though, because all of my clothes have milk or spit up stains already so what's a bit of color from some squash or carrots?

I had a glimpse of what it would be like as a single parent when your Papa went to Aspen for a week on a job. It was exhausting and I find it sad that the they aren't given more credit for what they do, their struggle and determination. They are true warriors and I have the most respect for them. Each night I would collapse into bed and fall asleep instantly. You were the only member of this family getting a square meal, while I grabbed at anything that required zero preparation. A LOT of cereal was eaten on my part. We managed though but I was so relieved when your Papa came home! First, because I missed him like crazy and second, please HELP me with this babe!

I know in the last journal entry I mentioned your distinct dislike of naps and I must report that your naps have GREATLY improved. You take about 3 a day, the morning and afternoon are about 2 hours and that evening nap is a half hour to an hour depending on how your day went. IT IS WONDERFUL! You still have off days every now and then but it pales in comparison to the first 3 months of your wailing and howling life. You are a pretty predictable little bean and I know as soon as you start rubbing your wee little eyes and yawning so big all the oxygen is sucked from the room, it's time to get you in that crib. STAT! And putting you down for your naps has never been so easy, if I get the timing right, you'll grab onto your blanket, stuff both hands in your mouth, roll to your side and babble to your bumper for five or ten minutes and then, simply, fall asleep.

Your 4 month check up was a fantastic success, weighing in at a healthy 13 lbs. 9 oz. Your head is still miniscule by baby standards but it can't be all bad since you've gotten several comments about looking just like the Gerber baby. Your Papa and I were fully expecting another meltdown when it came time to get your boosters, so I held your little hands, and waited for the tears and screeching to begin. The first shot was a surprise, your eyes grew wide and before you even had time to form a single tear, the nurse jabbed that second needle in there and your face turned scarlet and you opened your mouth and CRIED...for about 10 seconds and then you were done, back to normal! We were so proud, we talked about it for the rest of the day and told anyone who cared to listen. Yes, we have turned into those annoying parents who exclaim over every trivial thing that you did. Who cares that we can't sleep in. Who cares that all my clothes have spit up stains on them. Who cares we have to plan each outing down to the last detail lest your routine suffer. We have the most charming, singing, small-headed babe and we couldn't be more happy about it.

Love Forever:

Mama

15 Weeks

2010-07-19T15:14:00.000-07:00

Inspiration

2010-07-18T11:24:00.001-07:00

This was my anniversary gift from Kris. For almost a year now, whenever we made a trip to the bookstore, I would immediately go to the Arts/Photography section, pluck this book from the shelf, and read as much as I could, doing my best not to drool on the pages. Annie Leibovitz's photography is truly inspired and I can't help but pick up my own camera and make a humble and inexperienced attempt at taking photos of the same caliber. Of course she's had decades of experience, of trial and error, and I love her attitude toward photography, there's no pretention or ego. The following passage is taken from her book and is, quite possibly, the sole reason I loved this book so much...

...There are not many smiling people in my pictures. I've never asked anyone to smile. Almost never. Maybe a few times I felt I had to, when people looked really depressed, but I apologized for asking. You can almost hear the sigh of relief when you tell someone they don't have to smile...

...It took me years to understand that I equated asking someone to smile with asking them to do something false...

I've always loathed "smile for the camera". Being shoved into a picture that I didn't want to be in and then commanded to look happy about it. Not that I'm an unhappy person, some moments are full of smiles, ready to be captured, and some are not. I rarely ask people to smile simply because I prefer to take spontaneous pictures, not staged photos, with everyone looking like a wax work. Some of the best photo I've taken were the ones where all the occupants are unaware that a camera is even present, the slight blur in focus, the closed eyes, the genuine quality of these moments make them so memorable. These are the photographs I love the most.

5,280 feet

2010-07-16T09:50:00.000-07:00

Bavaria

2010-07-10T17:00:00.000-07:00

Journal: Third Month

2010-07-09T08:39:00.001-07:00

Dearest Bean,

You took your first plane ride at the ripe old age of 9 weeks and I can't tell you how many gray hairs I gave myself worrying about that flight. We were going to Cleveland, just the two of us, and the flight was a whole 3 hours, NON-STOP, the idea of being trapped in a fusel lodge at 36,000 feet made me feel ill. What if you had a GIANT crap?(which I'd heard was totally normal) What if you had a major meltdown and CRIED for 3 hours straight? What if you spit up down my shirt 10 minutes after takeoff and I had to smell SOUR breastmilk the entire flight? It didn't help that I ended up in a window seat on a completely booked flight. The list goes on but when the time came we boarded that plane, you fussed for two minutes until I got you your bottle, you ate, and you slept for 3 hours. It couldn't have gone better. Of course, as soon as the plane landed, you had one of the biggest bowel movements of your life. So, I'm hurrying through the Cleveland airport trying to find a bathroom and you're crying because you have 30 lbs. of poop in your diaper and I'd decided it would save time not to check any luggage so I'm carrying 50 lbs of luggage in addition to your total weight of 42 lbs. and I thought my arms would simply fall off and my legs would just give out and then we finally get to a bathroon and a cleaning woman has the nerve to tell me that, maybe, just maybe, you're hungry. So, I ignored her but that didn't stop her from repeating it several hundred times and I finally just couldn't take it any more and I snapped, he's NOT hungry! Babies CRY that's what they DO!

I must say it was so worth it to have that week in Cleveland, surrounded by love and an infinite amount of generosity and willingness to help. Everyone was so kind and not for one second did anyone ever act like you were anything other than a perfectly normal and charming baby even when you were being a Holy Terror. I so appreciated that. More than I can say.

Whoever said it takes a village to raise a baby, they weren't kidding! And your Papa and I, we've been in the trenches, utterly alone, when it comes to raising you. We don't have any family nearby to give us a hand and I now understand why people actually MOVE to where there family is because doing it on your own...well, it's BRUTAL. We looked into finding a sitter for you, someone close by that wouldn't mind watching you for a few hours and we thought we'd found a really nice young woman, who was a mama herself, with two younger children. We interviewed her and spent two hours at her house trying to decide whether or not she was worthy enough to watch you and she seemed fine, very capable. So we dropped you off for a "test run" just a 4 hour play date and after 2 and half she called me up and said she just "didn't think it was going to work out" that you wouldn't sleep and she'd "tried everything" and could I pick you up NOW. I flew out of the house and came close to breaking the sound barrier on my way to get you and when I'd gotten there you'd fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion. It turns out that her years of baby sitting "experience" was watching older kids. Kids that she can simply drop in front of the tv and leave for a couple hours. She just didn't have the time or experience to handle a newborn. Believe me, I now know that if a person offers to watch a newborn for 4 hours they should be prepared to spend every second of those 4 hours attending to the needs of that newborn, which are CONSTANT.

Luckily, we did find a woman, who has over 20 years of experience just with new babies, to watch you on Tuesdays and Thursdays when I am at work. I'm not even going to get into how hard that was for me, even though it was just for two days a week. On one hand it was great to have adult conversations and not wonder how I was going to entertain an infant for 90 minutes before your next nap but on the other I missed your little baby head and those big GRINS when you are just to thrilled you don't know what else to do. We are both still adjusting to this change and I am eager for you to start really enjoying your time at your Nana's house.

You really started noticing the cats this past month, especially Amelia, who is always rubbing against your head and your feet and sniffing your hands. You are fascinated by her tail and the other day she jumped up right next to you on the chair we were sitting in and instead of being startled you let out this huge belly laugh. It was one of your most charming moments yet. You are getting more mobile. The other day I left you facing one direction in your crib for a nap and when I went to get you, you had turned completely around. You looked just as surprised as I did. I've started reading to you before your naps and bedtime and right now our favorite book is The Giving Tree. The more I read that book the more I want to sit that boy down and have a stern word with him about taking advantage of those that love him and being a selfish douche bag and don't even get me started on the photograph of Shel Silverstein on the back cover. Yikes. But I think the reason I love that book so much is because it's such a touching story about how far our love can go, how, when you truly love someone, you'll give them everything you have to offer. No matter what the cost is to yourself.

Probably the best and most significant change that has taken place this last month is your night sleeping. I think it's safe to say that you are sleeping through the night and when I say this I mean that you are sleeping 12 hours with only one feed at around 2 or 3. The first several nights it happened I kept waking up every two hours and listening for those telltale hunger cries and then I was waking up because I needed to pump because my boobs had turned into these two uncomfortable boulders. So I'm not as rested as I should be but I'm getting there. Your naps on the other hand have recently become shorter and less frequent. I can't figure out a way to keep you sleeping longer than 40 minutes and there were a couple weeks where you were waking up after only 10 minutes and for those weeks you were a regular Grumplestiltskin. I loathed the afternoons and evenings with you for all the crying, yours and mine, and there was one day I put you to bed at 4:30 in the afternoon because we'd both HAD IT and that was the first night you slept 9 straight glorious hours. Hallelujah! Our eardrums thank you.

In June, you had your Second Month Checkup and you passed with flying colors. Your head is apparently smaller than average, only in the 10th percentile while your length was off the charts, peaking in the 90th percentile. This can only mean that you'll make a fine living as a beanpole or perhaps a light post. You were much less thrilled with your first set of vaccinations. We'd never heard you SCREAM like that before and I don't blame you one bit, I couldn't believe how BIG those needles where, I thought they'd go right through your little thigh into the table, they were that big. But you survived and only had a teeny temperature which prompted your first dose of Children's Tylenol. It did feel wonderful, though, to be able to hold you, wipe away the tears, and whisper that everything was going to be okay and see you calm down and bury your head in my shoulder. In other words, I truly felt like a mama capable of moving mountains, or the Earth, even, in that moment.

Love Forever:

Mama

Milestone

2010-06-30T11:54:00.000-07:00

Mr. Nibbles

2010-06-30T09:34:00.000-07:00

Cohen has recently discovered his hands and we have been encouraging him in his efforts. He prefers the right to the left and enjoys attempting to fit the ENTIRE thing in his mouth, something he has not been completely successful at just yet. Not for lack of trying.

06.20.10

2010-06-20T18:26:00.000-07:00

mon petite enfant

2010-06-10T09:04:00.000-07:00

Journal: Second Month

2010-06-05T18:13:00.000-07:00

Dearest Bean,

Oh Gosh, I don't even know where to begin. These last two months have been such a crazy ride and you're the one in charge which is pretty scary since you still don't have control over your arms and legs yet. There was nothing that could have prepared me for being a parent. I had so many expectations for you and for me and I've really had to let all those go. Which isn't such a bad thing. I got so many mixed messages from dear well-intentioned friends, family, and books. I don't think people realize that no matter how gracious they are in their suggestions and recommendations, to a new mama, it just sounds like criticism. I was told that my anxiety was what was making you fidgety during your night feeds. The last thing anyone should tell a new mama is that her anxiety is what's making her baby behave a certain way! I hadn't realized that I even felt anxious but you can bet, once I read that email that I was a complete wreck when I would go into your room at night and no amount of calming breathing exercises or images of sandy beaches and palm fronds was going to make it better. Despite my hyperventilating you ended up moving out of that phase all on your own and now your night feeds are a breeze. You wake up just enough to know it's food time and then slip right back into your baby slumber.

Around week 6 you started to get more fussy especially around the evening hours and when your Papa volunteered to watch you for an hour so I could go to the gym you spent the entire time screaming and nothing he did would calm you. We figured it was because you needed an earlier bedtime because up until that point we were putting you in bed between 9-11. Now you go to bed somewhere between 6-8. I know that's a pretty big window but it all depends on how your days been. Some days are wonderful, perfect baby days with hardly any crying and fussing, those days are the days when your naps are long and frequent. Other days you turn into the most wretched wretch, screaming and carrying on. On several occasions I've expected you to spew pee soup while your head spins as you crawl across the ceiling.

I've spent the better part of four weeks trying to get you on a schedule during the day and you have no idea how hard you've been fighting it. You've been such a trooper, patiently putting up with all our crazy antics trying to figure you out and sometimes it works, just like magic and other times you just scream, most likely out of frustration because we just aren't getting it. We're trying, little bean! We're trying so hard. I've given up putting you on a formal schedule and both of us seem to be doing much better for it. We'll give it a shot in another month or two.

Around week 8 we discovered that you need a LOT of sleep and less awake time, a lot less than the books say. Sometimes you'll need another nap after only being awake for a half an hour and that's okay. Because when we do make sure you get your sleep you are the most charming baby, you laugh and smile, and talk up a storm, especially on your changing table. But when you don't get that sleep you turn into a screaming, writhing, wretch and it takes a serious amount of soothing, done in the most specific way to calm you down. You absolutely love to be swaddled and in the past couple weeks it's the only way you'll get more than 20 minutes of sleep. However, with your Herculean strength it's getting harder and harder to keep those little arms down by your sides. Most often then not when I go to get you from a nap those arm are FREE waving above your head and you always look so proud of yourself. You're our little Houdini!

It's amazing how much you've grown and changed. You've started smiling at us which is so worth those stitches Mama got. You chuckle and squeal with absolute glee when you get your diaper changed. Your movements are getting more controlled and your eyes will follow me around the room as I go to your dresser to get your clothes for the day. You've certainly become much more aware of your surroundings and because of this we've had to black out your windows otherwise you'd never sleep a wink. If I place my finger on the palm of your hand your little fingers will curl around it and the strength you have is AMAZING. I'm surprised you haven't crushed the bones in my hand.

A lot of people have asked if you're sleeping through the night yet. I now know, as a parent, that I will never ask another parent this question no matter how old their child is because no matter the age if the answer isn't yes, you feel like you've failed somehow. I know the time will come when you'll sleep through the night but right now, you just don't have it in you and I'm so used to those little mid-night visits I know I'll miss them when they've gone. When it's just the two of us curled up in the glider and you snuggle into the crook of my arm when you're done eating and start doing that whistling snore. Those moments are so precious and I try so hard to appreciate them, to pull myself out of my exhaustion for just a minute and smell your little baby head and kiss your nebulous hairs and whisper how much your Papa and Mama love you, would do anything for you! Those are the moments that make all the shit, spit up, and screaming, SO worth it.

Love Forever:

Mama

5 Worst Baby Items...

2010-06-05T17:27:00.000-07:00

...in my short and humble experience.

When we were preparing for the arrival of the bean, there was an infinite amount of suggestions for must-haves that I collected from friends, families, blogs, and online reviews. So I put together a list of sorts and then proceeded to register and purchase some of these essential items. Now, over 8 weeks in, I have found that some of these items just don't work for me like:

1. The Wretched, Horrid, No Good Boppy! I can't tell you how many people swore by this thing, that if I had to take a single item to a desert island with me it would be this. Well, I'm here to say that I loathe and despise it. It doesn't fit well around my body AT ALL. More often then not Cohen manages to slip between the curve of the Boppy and my body so he's folded up in this weird valley about 6 inches lower than he should be. I'm constantly washing the slip covers which would be fine if I had several million dollars to keep a stack of clean fresh ones lying around. There have been days when I've had to use a burp cloth for a cover because all of the REAL covers are dirty. Lastly, and most importantly, it has become as squishy and misshapen as a marshmallow, all firmness and shape have all but vanished and no amount of time spent in the dryer with tennis balls is going to bring it back. I still use the darn thing but I don't enjoy it AT ALL.

2. Huggies Diapers and Wipes. We bought a HUGE tub of wipes, sensitive wipes, for when we brought Cohen home from the hospital and within 24 hours he had a bleeding rash on his bum and because we're new parents WITHOUT A CLUE it took us almost a week to figure out it was the wipes. We inadvertently discovered it on a day trip when we were using the ULTRA CHEAP-O no-name wipes we bought at the grocery store and VOILA! No more bleeding bum! The diapers leaked and left these weird silicone-type beads all over his man parts so we nixed the Huggies and we've been more than happy with Pampers. YAHOO!

3. BabyHawk Carrier. I so wanted this to be awesome but although it may LOOK really cool, it's not very functional for several very significant reasons. The straps are impossibly long, like drag on the bathroom floor long, and I'm not really excited about wrapping straps that have just slid across a public lavatory floor around my baby AND body. Their website says you can use it as early as newborn, which we proudly did during a trip to the mall, and I was idly window shopping when I noticed I was getting some weird looks and I look down to find Cohen, who was fast asleep, falling out the side. His body was more than HALF WAY out of the carrier, his head flopping like a cooked noodle. I thought it was because I wasn't tying it tight enough but no matter how I snugly I configured the straps after walking for about 15 minutes it would loosen up and start to sag so I would end up having to hoist him up and carry him anyway, which is not the most ideal feature of a baby carrier that advertises it's wonderful HANDS FREE design.

4. I never purchased a diaper bag. I thought I could just use what I had lying around. Except it turns out I have a suitcase and a handbag, nothing in the middle, so we've been using Kris' relic Jansport backpack which is as old as the hills and looks it. I don't really mind that it's the most unattractive tote on the face of the earth but the overall design of a backpack is so NOT conducive for using it as a diaper bag because everything ends up just getting piled on top of everything else, there isn't any form of organization, no compartments for bottles, no changing pad, just a mishmash of clothes, mixed with diapers, mixed with wipes, etc. I've been on the lookout for something decent and affordable and haven't found anything yet but I have high hopes.

5. Johnson and Johnson Bedtime Bath Soap & Lotion. I love the way this stuff smells, it wonderful and soothing and makes me want to gobble Cohen up, except that it irritates his skin beyond belief. He gets a bath every other night because we live in the DRIEST state ever and we don't want to rob his teeny baby body of all it's moisture. We started using the Bedtime Bath and Lotion right out of the gate and almost immediately Cohen developed this hive-lookin' rash all over his face and once we stopped using it everything has been fine, he still has dry skin (we're STILL working on getting that resolved) but at least it doesn't look like leprosy anymore.

7 weeks

2010-05-24T15:01:00.000-07:00

Bleeding Heart

2010-05-17T14:04:00.000-07:00

Birth Story: Part Three

2010-05-10T17:35:00.000-07:00

The Fentanyl made my entire body feel like it was full of sand which was quite an achievement at 41 weeks pregnant. I felt deliciously heavy and the contractions weren't as intense. Amanda was able to catch a few z's while a drowsy Kris took the chair next to the bed and kept me company. After about an hour I noticed the effects wearing off and I was still feeling more exhausted then rested and I opted for another dose. Which brought me another hour of dozing in and out, grasping the rail on the side of the bed whenever I felt another wave of pain.

At around 4 am, I was officially drug-free, and I was beginning to squirm a bit. Each time a contraction hit I would shuffle my feet and rock back and forth, gripping the side rail until my knuckles turned white. Tricia mentioned that it would be better if I tried to hold as still as possible and focus, really FOCUS, on my breathing. This sounded exactly like what I didn't want to be doing. Writhing was the only thing getting me through this, how could she take that away from me?! I didn't have to wait long before I got to test her theory and guess what? She was totally right. At first I was able to just close my eyes and focus on my breathing but after a while that just wasn't enough. Amanda woke up just in time to have Tricia show her how to apply pressure to my lower back to relieve some of the pain. It was the most brilliant recommendation she made the whole night. I had one hand wrapped around the side rail and the other was holding Kris' hand, who would obligingly return the bone-crushing pressure of my grip. The contractions were coming much more quickly now and lasting an eternity. The only comfortable position for me was on my side and moving was becoming more and more difficult.

My water still hadn't broken and my cervix was taking it's sweet time and was only at about 6cm. The good news was that the baby was in the right position and my labor was progressing as well as it could. Tricia mentioned that I was doing as well as could be expected for someone who wanted a drug-free (well, almost drug-free) birth. I was the poster child for pain management. HA! I felt more like the poster child for unabashed writhing and moaning. However, I was still stubbornly holding to my guns that I didn't want an epidural. So for the next several hours this was how things continued, Amanda rubbing my lower back with each contraction and Kris holding my hand, my eyes squeezed shut.

Around this time I became overly concerned that I was whimpering too loud and I totally blame this absurd apprehension on an episode of MTV's "Sixteen and Pregnant", the one with the girl SHRIEKING in agony and she was only at 1cm. And I SO didn't want to be that girl, causing everyone else in the Labor and Delivery ward to silently pray for someone to shove a sock in that girl's mouth because people are trying to have a civilized AND quiet labor over here. Amanda and Kris assured me that my moaning was barely audible much less something that would echo down the halls. Thank God I still had that tiny shard of dignity left.

About 6:30 am Tricia introduced me to her replacement, Angie, who would be my nurse for the duration of my labor. Before the shift change at 7 am I had Tricia give me one more shot of Fentanyl, the pain was beyond anything I'd experienced and I needed just one more hour of relief. That last shot lasted about 15 minutes when I was hit with a contraction so strong, so intense that no amount of massaging or focused breathing was going to alleviate this pain. My eyes flew open and I was grasping and clawing at Kris' shirt, vision blurred, my whole body contorted in pain and in that moment I asked for that epidural, begged for it. I wanted that damn epidural. Give it to me NOW! Except when Angie came in and checked my cervix she said that I was already at 9.5cm and there wasn't much point in having the epidural because by the time the anesthesiologist arrived, paperwork was signed, and the drug hooked up, the baby would be here. Gaah! I really didn't think I could make it through another contraction like that but at this point I didn't have a choice. I was having this baby without any form of pain-relief whether I wanted to or not.

And in the midst of everything I noticed the soft gray light of sunrise filling my room and it was beautiful.

I don't remember having another contraction like that again, they were still intense, still coming every minute and lasting for three but I had hit a wall and things just couldn't get worse, with Amanda and Kris coaching me, and a renewed focus on my breathing, I was doing it and there was a teeny tiny bit of me that was proud of myself for that.

Out of nowhere around 8:15 am I was suddenly filled with the urge to push. I had Amanda call Angie in because I couldn't fight the impulse, my body was taking over. Angie appeared, did the ol' check the cervix and, glory hallelujah, I was finally a full 10 cm. My water broke, with a little help, and Angie told me that I could start pushing and the most amazing thing happened. The pain and delirium of the contractions was counteracted by the pushing. Each time a contraction hit, I would bear down and their was no pain or discomfort. Until Angie got this terrible idea that I should move to my back and try and bend my legs. I really wasn't ready to be on my back at all. Each time she would try and reposition me the pain and pressure in my lower back was excruciating. I just wanted to stay curled up on my side because that's what felt best and after several failed attempts to do it her way, Angie gave up and let me do it my way.

Unbeknownst to me, there was a bit of a predicament taking place outside of my room. There was no doctor to deliver my baby. My own obgyn had taken that Monday off so she was unavailable and nobody seemed to have a clue who would be available for the birth. So phone calls were made and someone mentioned that my doctor, Dr. Hoch, was actually going to be coming in. And then someone told me she wasn't. Then she was. It was finally determined that she wasn't actually coming in and the Dr. on call, Dr. Gallagher, would be doing the delivery. Except no one seemed to know exactly where she was or when she would arrive. During all of this Angie is checking how things are progressing and in spite of the fact that there was no one to deliver my baby he was making his way into the world. The good news was that Dr. Gallagher was on her way.

The moment Angie informed the staff that I was ready to deliver our room filled with a crowd of people, nurse, techs, and assistants. These two giant spotlights were turned on, my bed fixed into a sitting position, drapes were secured, and Dr. Gallagher was fully outfitted in her scrubs and protective eye gear and everyone was saying PUSH! Someone politely asked if I wanted a mirror and, dear Lord Jesus, I so did NOT want to see what was going on. I was pretty sure I would change my mind about this whole giving birth thing if I did. So I said no and continued to push, but then it turned out that I wasn't pushing the right way, so it was explained to me just exactly what they meant when they said PUSH! So I gave it another shot, and everyone's talking, telling me that the next push is it, just one more. I'm holding onto the bed above my head for dear life, my face resembling a beet and I'm pushing. C'mon, you can do it...PUSH! PUSH!

And at 9:02 am, with sun streaming in the room, I felt the most bizarre sensation and after an incredible release of pressure someone plopped a baby on my chest! A little shrieking purple baby boy with a head full of hair. And everything went from a hundred miles an hour to zero in an instant. Here he was! After 41 weeks of waiting and anticipating and 12 hours of hard labor he was actually here! And he was perfect.

Dubious

2010-04-29T16:22:00.000-07:00

Sweet Dreams

2010-04-29T16:17:00.000-07:00

Birth Story: Part Two

2010-04-27T16:11:00.000-07:00

The drive to the hospital went by in a blur, with me squeezing a pillow during contractions and bracing my legs against the floorboard. There was no traffic so late on a Sunday night so we made excellent time and arrived at the emergency room at around 8:45 pm. Of course, there was no one at the front desk to check us in and the several disheveled patrons milling around the waiting room acted like they had never seen a pregnant woman before in their lives.

The nurse on duty finally arrived and buzzed us in, informing us that we would have to check in before I could be officially admitted. I was prepared for this, with all my paper work filled out, signed, and a copy of my insurance card. I wasn't about to sit around trying to remember my social security number while contractions were wracking my body. A very nice orderly showed up in minutes with a wheelchair (hospital protocol) and I gratefully took a seat still clutching my pillow. He wheeled me down the hall to the elevators, Kris is tow, carrying the hospital bag and an ever-calm demeanor.

I arrived at Labor and Delivery and was shown to my room (#3) where the night nurse, Tricia, hooked me up to a variety of machines and asked me several thousand questions about my health, like had I happened to do crack, cocaine, meth, or heroine at any point in my life. I felt like telling her I was seriously thinking about doing all four at that moment and could we just get this show on the road thankyouverymuch. After she confirmed that I was in labor, FOR REAL, as opposed to just pretending, she put in the IV, got my antibiotics flowing, informed me I was in for a long night and to just let her know when I was ready for pain medication. Then she left. Left me in the room with my very tired husband and my dear friend, Amanda, and a Ben Stiller movie on TV. That last bit wasn't in the birth plan.

At this point I was only dilated to 3cm. Let me tell you just how disappointed I was to hear that. I was hoping for at least 6cm but at 3cm I knew that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better and they were going to take their sweet time doing it.

For the most part I could still carry on a conversation during my contractions and once a contraction passed I was able to feel relatively normal and rested. Tricia came in several times and shared some information that wasn't a part of any pregnancy book I had read, like how I was going to "bleed like a garden hose", then she got me set up with these awesome mesh underpants, something that you might find in the Geriatric Fredrick's of Hollywood. Add that to the awesome hospital gown I was wearing and I was the perfect picture of FRUMP. That's another thing they don't tell you about labor, how you are stripped of any shred of dignity or modesty and your inability to control any part of your body. It was a humbling experience and one that I was completely unprepared for.

After about two hours, Tricia told me that it would be good for me and my labor if I got up and walked around. The first time out, Kris accompanied us but the second time around Amanda and I left an exhausted Kris on the hide-a-bed and hit the hallways which some forward-thinking genius had outfitted with railings. Let me just say I got to know those railings really really well. Each time a contraction hit I would stagger over to one of those mahogany-colored dowels and hold on to it for dear life while rocking back and forth. I was focusing on my breathing, deep breaths in through the nose and out the mouth. It seemed to be working fairly well and Amanda was doing a stellar job coaching me and keeping up a steady stream of chatter which was a most welcome distraction.

I was still only at about 5 cm at 1 am and the contractions had definitely started to get a bit more intense. I was unable to talk through them and they seemed to be lasting longer with less time to rest in between. I was so exhausted. I hadn't gotten any sleep since the previous night and I was kicking myself for making banana bread instead of taking a nap the day before. I was still managing without any pain medication at this point but it was getting so much more difficult. I knew that if I was going to have any chance of making it to the PUSH part of labor I needed some rest. So, I buzzed in Tricia and asked her what my options were other than an epidural and she mentioned Fentanyl, a fast-acting but temporary pain relief, it would last about an hour and I could have up to 6 doses. I was really starting to feel like I was at the end of my tether so I agreed and was given my first dose at around 2am.

It was totally worth it. It didn't take away the pain completely but dulled it to about 60% which was enough so I was able to get a few precious minutes of sleep. Amanda made a coffee run for herself and Kris and the waiting continued.

Tootsie

2010-04-21T14:06:00.001-07:00

2 Weeks

2010-04-21T13:41:00.000-07:00

Last week Cohen graduated to his crib for beddy-bye time. He's been doing remarkably well and now he won't because I just tempted fate by putting that in writing. oh well.

His schedule is becoming more defined and we are getting better at reading his cues. I've changed approximately 7,392 diapers, have spent the better part of the last 14 days shirtless, and have taken 3 showers. I'm sure his first words are going to be, "hey, mama, you stink". To which I will reply, "I gave up personal hygiene to feed, bounce, bathe, and carry you and you WILL appreciate it."

Our washing machine is holding up well considering we've used it at least once EVERY SINGLE DAY since we got home from the hospital, including the time we popped a load in at 3 am because Cohen thought it would be hilarious to spit up 3 times (maybe to mark the hour) each episode just far enough apart that I had cleaned him, myself, the rocking chair, the changing pad, etc. by the time the next round of spew appeared. After frantically emailing several experts we were assured this is normal. Both the spit up AND the laundry.

He passed his two week Dr. appointment with flying colors. In the words of Dr. (Franken) Stein, "He's perfect." We would have to agree.

Bright Eyes

2010-04-14T18:10:00.001-07:00

Flowers From Work

2010-04-14T18:08:00.001-07:00

Birth Story: Part One

2010-04-12T18:06:00.000-07:00

I didn't give much thought to the whole "labor" part of pregnancy during the first 8 months of expecting. It was the vague and hazy moment in the future that I couldn't really anticipate so I kept it vague and hazy. I knew that I wanted to try and have an all natural birth, no epidural, no drugs, and I was adamant that there was to be no snipping of the perineum. I wanted nature to just run it's course. Usually when I told someone that I was planning on not having an epidural they were skeptical and some insisted that I would want it, be begging for it because labor is "just that bad". Others were supportive. I had never been through labor before. All my research on contractions used words like "intense" and "discomfort" not "you will be writhing in your hospital bed, while clawing at your husband's shirt".

I was anxious when my original due date passed, March 28. I hadn't felt any "discomfort" apart from struggling to put socks on in the morning and I felt like I'd been pregnant for 18 or 19 months. So when I felt some odd sporadic cramping at around 10 o'clock in the morning on Easter Sunday I didn't pay much attention. In fact, I thought it would be an excellent idea to make use of the nasty bananas taking up space on our counter and make some banana bread sans nuts. I threw a load of washing in and set to work mashing bananas, music blaring from the computer. If this was labor I was going to have NO problem. Look, I'm baking!

In the sheaf of paperwork I had brought home from my obgyn, it gave strict instructions NOT to call the hospital until a) my water broke or b) I had contractions consistently 5 minutes apart for two hours straight. I was also under the impression that when my contractions had reached this rate I would probably give birth within an hour or two. HA! Right around the time the laundry was done and the banana bread was cooling I noticed that the discomfort level was raising the bar a little bit and thought it best to keep a pad and pen handy to note the time of each cramp/contraction. I focused on my breathing and felt that I was handling this whole pain of labor thing quite well. I wanted to stay home as long as possible because once I checked into the hospital I would be pretty restricted, no eating, and only a limited amount of movement/walking. So I flipped on the Food Network and watched as a crew of chefs put together cakes that defied the laws of physics and design. Right around the time Family Guy was about to start, my contractions had been coming every 5 minutes for two hours. This was it! I called the hospital and the dr. on call said that it was time I made my way over and check myself in. I told Kris that we needed to go. We were about to have a baby!

We left the house about 8:15 pm.

Just Born

2010-04-07T16:50:00.001-07:00

Will write the Birth Story soon! Thanks to all our friends and family for your thoughts, prayers and well wishes. We are so grateful for them!

Proud to Announce...

2010-04-07T16:43:00.000-07:00

The Arrival of the Bean:

COHEN RILEY BARSTOW

on April 5, 2010

at 9:02 am

7 lbs. 5 oz. / 20 inches

A Little Princess

2010-04-04T15:36:00.000-07:00

This is the original serialized novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett, published in 1888. Burnett was asked by her publisher to revise and expand the novel which then became the well-known, A Little Princess, published in 1904. We found this at Goodwill for $20. The illustrations are beautifully done and in the back are several pages of advertisements for dozens of books put out by the publisher, Charles Scribner's Sons. It definitely shows signs of wear, the binding is fragile and there's some discoloration on the cover but all the pages are intact, although yellow from age. Inside the front cover the owner of the book pencilled in her name: Bulah M. Hunt, in the most graceful script. It's beautiful.

French Dry Cleaner

2010-04-04T15:24:00.000-07:00

Kris found this in one of the dilapidated sheds out back. A dilapidated shed that is now being used as a chicken coop by our neighbors. After doing some research our best guess is that it's from around 1945. It's in near perfect condition, no rust and only one minor scratch. I LOVE stuff like this, package design was so much cooler 50 years ago. Now we just need to figure out where to put Aunt Sue, she's spent the better part of her existence in a grotty shed, she deserves a place in the sun.

41 weeks

2010-04-02T17:48:00.000-07:00

There it is folks, the 32 lb. BUN in the oven. My due date has come and gone and the bean seems perfectly content where he's at. I haven't had a single hint of a contraction, there's a possibility I passed my mucus plug but apparently that doesn't mean very much. At my last appointment I was hooked up to the fetal heart monitor and some other device that measured contractions. Sadly, the only thing it ended up registering was my laughing fit. I've walked miles, heaved myself up and down our basement stairs countless times, and attempted squats and done just about everything a girl can do to get labor started. This is just one stubborn bean.

We met our pediatrician, a Dr. Stein, who's first name is Hal and not Franken, which is a real shame. He's wonderful, experienced, and he patiently sat through all our questions regarding vaccinations, circumcision, and rectal thermometers (is the rectal part really necessary?).

Here's hoping we'll have bigger news to report next time...

37 Weeks

2010-03-12T14:29:00.000-08:00

So, here it is! Finally, an updated picture of the bump, quite a bit of growth since the last one. You'll have to excuse my missing head. Kris and I set this up with exactly 3 minutes of daylight left and our options were a bit limited when we went to look at all the shots we'd hurriedly snapped and this one, the one without my head, happened to be the only one in focus.

At my last appointment I was 50% effaced which apparently means I've been having contractions although I haven't felt a thing besides a few sharp jabs to the ribs.

I managed to catch a cold that has been "The Worst Cold in the History of Colds" since I can't take anything but I am on the mend and will do my best to remain as healthy as possible in these upcoming weeks.

Kris painted the nursery and the furniture will be painted by the middle of next week. We're hoping to have the room set up and ready to go by next weekend. I have a feeling the moment we get those sheets stretched over the mattress my water's going to break.

I feel like we are definitely ready to go, we have most of the essentials, just a few small things to pick up, like a diaper bag...something that doesn't scream "I'm carrying Diaper Rash Cream RIGHT HERE, people" or is a nauseating collection of pastels and cartoon characters.

I can't believe we're going to be parents.

34 Weeks

2010-02-19T13:26:00.000-08:00

The bean gets hiccups all the time...several times a day, everyday. This just started within the last week.

His movement has become much more robust and my organs seems to be dealing with the abuse admirably. Although, he did manage to punch my right ovary with such gusto I felt it was necessary to let him know that behavior will be unacceptable OUTSIDE the womb.

I had a prenatal massage not too long ago at the most charming spa and, let me just say, it wasn't nearly long enough and I didn't want to ever bathe again because the products they used were divine. My sad and tired skin has never been so hydrated and lovely smelling.

Kris and I went on our Hospital Tour and we now know the in's and out's of the North Suburban Medical Center's Maternity Ward. I'm sure I won't care one wit about their room service menu while in the throes of labor.

We are still, as of yet, undecided on a name. Who knew this would be the most challenging part of bringing a wee babe into this world?

At my last appointment I'd gained a total of 28 lbs. but my obgyn insists the bean is probably going to be about 6.5 - 7 lbs. I see a lot of brisk walks in my future. He's in the "head down" position which is good but it doesn't look like he'll be "heading out" sooner than expected, which is also good.

My Baby Shower was beautiful and wonderful and I can't express enough how ovewhelmed I was by everyone's graciousness and generosity. Kris and I are profoundly blessed to have such a fantastic circle of friends and family, near and far. The bean received a superfluous amount of gifts and I now have a stunning collection of beads, a charming reminder of all the people who care and support our family. I am so looking forward to having this precious keepsake when the time comes for the bean to make his big debut.

While we are feverishly preparing the nursery the majority of our time has been getting the Nursery-To-Be cleared of all my crap...like birthday cards from 1987 or a decade-old keychain from Six Flags. Then we (I use the word "we" loosely) have to move all the furniture downstairs to the newly constructed guest room, prep the nursery, paint the walls, furniture, etc., assemble said furniture, wash the 400 million onesies we now own, organize the 2 diapers I have received via mail for FREE, and slipcover the glider cushions because nothing shall be upholstered in DENIM in my house. It's like the Everest of projects but without the frostbite and oxygen tanks, although hair loss is a definite possibility.

Since I don't have a recent picture of me, the one, capturing for posterity, my legs that now resemble tree trunks, I will leave you with the color palette for the nursery, which is much easier on the eyes! Trust me!

Registry Update

2010-02-10T13:37:00.000-08:00

So far, we are the proud owners of:

A Graco Bumper Jumper

A Zooper Flamenco Stroller in Black

A Baby Bathtub

A Million Onesies

8 Halo SleepSacks

Hats, Hats, and more Hats

2 Crib Sheets

4 Swaddling Blankets

A Receiving Blanket

A Variety of Stuffed Animals

A Balboa Baby Sling

5 Baby Memory Books/Albums/Calendars

2 Nightlights

A Rocker/Glider

Crib sans Mattress

Changing Table sans Pad

A Changing Pad Cover

AND

2 Huggies Newborn Diapers delivered to us by the US Post Office

Baubles

2010-01-09T14:34:00.001-08:00

Frosty

2010-01-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

Kris and Rose put together a mighty fine lookin' Snowman

New Year's Eve 2009

Registration

2010-01-03T17:10:00.000-08:00

I DID it! I registered! Just pop on over to www.babiesrus.com and voila! Just make sure to enter Lakewood as the location. Now I feel slightly better about this wee bean and his inevitable appearance in less than three short months.

There were a few items that weren't available at babiesrus that I have been eyeballing for a while, they aren't exactly essential, but they are so lovely/practical/awesome/etc and everyone should be allowed a wishlist of sorts. I will, of course, be modifying/adding to this as suggestions and new discoveries make their way onto my radar.

Mama Mio Tummy Rub

I had a prenatal massage and they used these products, I figure my skin couldn't get any softer.

Zooper Flamenco in Rich Coral

Love the color, style and that it can be used from infant to toddler.

Britax Marathon Car Seat Cover in Onyx

A smart cart seat cover for the little bean.

Hooter Hider

Why not cover your boobs with style, right?

Portable High Chair

Easy to clean, use, travel with, etc.

Baby Hawk Custom His and Hers Carriers

Just click on Gift Registry and enter Barstow. You'll have no problem spotting Kris' choice.

Serena & Lily Gypsy Tote and Sling

Almost anything from this site would make me swoon but those two are my top picks!

Graco Bumper Jumper

We're all set with furniture and clothes and I tried my darndest to keep it simple because I figure that will make things easier on everyone involved. It's not too far to go now...the end of March is fast approaching!

Frost

2009-12-20T19:54:00.001-08:00

Sterling Moon

2009-12-20T19:50:00.000-08:00

Baby Barstow's first official present

Third Trimester

2009-12-17T11:02:00.000-08:00

So, it's been ages, and I haven't been posting every week about the baby bean because there wasn't anything super NEW to discuss except my swollen ankles. Generally, everything is going perfectly. This little guy moves all the time and it still hasn't become painful jabs or punches to the spleen or bladder, more of an "excuse me while I roll around in this amniotic fluid and find a more comfortable fetal position".

I should post a picture of the bump because it is definitely a BUMP, but apparently not too bumpy because the only word I keep hearing to describe my current prenatal state is "tiny". I'm not a fan of that word, I much more prefer "small" if some sort of adjective has to be tossed out there. For some reason, the word tiny just feels "too small" for me, like I'm an undersized gnome or a shelled peanut, something that could easily be trod underfoot. The statment, "Oh, you're so tiny!" is inevitablly followed by "Just wait...you're gonna get HUGE." People like to play it fast and loose with the hyperboles, I've noticed.*

I am hungry all the time but I can't eat as much in one sitting because my stomach is the size of a grape. I have definitely been getting my money's worth out of the single pair of maternity pants I invested in. I've only had a few people touch my belly without asking, some weird universal notion exists somewhere that this is okay when it TOTALLY isn't.

I have stopped trying to find tasteful AND affordable crib bedding. It simply doesn't exist . So, we're not quite sure what the baby is going to be sleeping on yet but it certainly won't be covered with syndicated cartoon characters named after bowel movements.

My doctor told me that I can have eggnog so if you can't find any it's all in my fridge.

*I've also noticed that this whole post could be considered a hyperbole but in my defense at least I'm referring to inanimate objects as opposed to saying incredibly thoughtless and insensitive things about someone's swelling body to their FACE.

PhotoShoot

2009-11-19T15:41:00.001-08:00

FEET!

(these are what's responsible for all the thumping and bumping)
MAN PARTS!
(may need to enlarge. HA)

BABY FACE!

(it helps if you tilt your head to the left)

20 Weeks

2009-11-11T09:18:00.001-08:00

We had our 20 Week ultrasound yesterday and the verdict is in. The baby bean is definitely a baby boy! The ultrasound was fascinating. Everything looks a-okay and on course for the due date, March 31. We couldn't be more overwhelmed with awe and excitement.

I purchased my first pair of maternity pants which are considerably more comfortable than the jeans I was bumping out of. My bladder has shrunk to the size of thimble so I am often seen walking briskly to the ladies room and while I haven't had any food cravings I have been listening to A LOT of Metallica. There is a lot to think about when it comes to baby necessities and not A CLUE where to begin, although I know for sure I'm not going to be buying a "used" breast pump. Does that strike anyone else as being completely revolting?

Week 18

2009-11-02T10:17:00.001-08:00

click to ENLARGE

So, here is the first of a few, possibly several, BUMP pictures. I know this picture is totally contrived (which makes me a hypocritcal ass. See Week 17) but that's what happens when you're born with the brain of an artist/designer and refuse to use anything other than natural light. I'd like to just clear the air here and say out loud that I don't enjoy having my picture taken. I might feel differently if Annie Leibovitz was behind the camera and I'd just spent 3 hours in hair and makeup but for the most part I consider myself strictly NOT photogenic. So please, bear with me as I try to figure out what works best when it comes to this sort of thing. I can already tell you that our dead yard and car will not be gracing any backgrounds in the future.

Evergreen

2009-10-29T08:24:00.001-07:00

17 Weeks

2009-10-26T11:59:00.000-07:00

I started to feel movement this week. At least I hope it's movement otherwise I spent the better part of 15 minutes having a conversation with my bowels. I have yet to purchase a stitch of maternity clothing. A jerry-rigged rubberband is the only thing keeping my trousers up. A bump is slowly starting to emerge like I swallowed an entire cantaloupe. I'm still undecided about "belly" pictures. I'm leaning more toward the NO bare belly pictures because I have this small tendency to find them revolting and contrived. But it's early days yet and who knows what uncharted territories this pregnancy is going to take me.

16 Weeks

2009-10-19T11:49:00.000-07:00

My sixteenth week of pregnancy has come and gone and it was by far the WORST week EVER since I managed to catch swine flu. Fortunately my prenatal appointment gave my doc the opportunity to prescribe an antibiotic so my suffering was only slightly less dreadful than it might have been otherwise. In spite my rib-splitting cough, a diet of broth, and agonizing muscle aches the baby bean is a-okay with a heartbeat zooming along at about 160.

Bun In The Oven

2009-09-25T14:19:00.000-07:00

Strawberries:Favorite

2009-09-23T08:09:00.000-07:00

Sea Monkey

2009-09-21T07:36:00.000-07:00

Bebe Barstow's First Photo

Slymans Deli, Cleveland

2009-09-19T07:31:00.000-07:00

People were lined up around this place just to get in and for good reason. This is quite possibly the most scrumptous Corned Beef sandwich I have ever tasted. Not to mention the size! I didn't have to eat for 3 days after this meal.