Crunchy home birther

Yesterday as my screen saver was flipping through random pictures from our lives, this picture popped up. As I looked at it, I realized, for the first time, just how bizarre and unreasonable this picture must seem to anyone who believes giving birth in a hospital is the right way to do it, and who thinks home birth is dangerous, crazy and just plain stupid.

So a brief explanation. Turner will be one year old this Saturday, the 21st, and I have his full birth story available here and pictures here. He was born, very peacefully and beautifully, at home, in our farm house in Missouri. His birth was attended by 3 amazing midwives, Rachel, Cheryl and Lisa.

The picture shows me still on the floor holding my minutes-old baby son, and my very-pregnant (she gave birth just 2 days later, although I don't believe she was due for 3 more weeks) midwife starting to clean up, as well as the environment in which I gave birth. Yes, I gave birth on our living room floor, which was how and where I wanted to be. You look around, you see a space heater on the floor to warm the room for the baby (it was a warm spring day, but got chilly at night, and we wanted to have it nice and warm for the baby's arrival). You see a toy box full of Guthrie's toys against one wall. You see a futon right there, a nice comfy soft place where I could have given birth had I chosen.

Our society firmly believes that babies need to be born in hospitals, attended by specialists, with all the bells and whistles and the machine that goes "ping." I won't go into the politics surrounding birth, and how bogus this whole idea is for the vast majority of women, and how it is the hospital environment itself which causes so many of the complications which now occur in birth and especially the shamefully high c-section rate, because there's just not enough room here, and I doubt it would accomplish much anyway.

Giving birth at home, in my own space, with access to all of my own belongings, my own bathroom, my own food, was an absolutely incredible experience. My first child was born in a hospital, nearly 12 years ago, and my second was born in a freestanding birth center (a home birth in someone else's home, in many ways). If we have any more children, which is still a distinct possibility, they will be born in whatever home we are in at the time.

It now seems as bizarre to me - as strange as this image must seem to most of the American population - to think of going into labor and immediately packing things up to go to a hospital. To imagine being tethered to a bed, to not be able to go into the kitchen and eat a bowl of Frosted Flakes (as I did at 3 a.m. when I realized a baby would be coming soon), to not be able to turn up the iPod and belly dance through contractions to the Culture Club and Duran Duran and Prince and The Cure, and to not be able to leave your sleeping children asleep in their own beds as long as possible, seems so unnatural, so inconvenient, and just so wrong. To be poked and prodded, and on someone else's time frame for delivery, and to be surrounded by rotating shifts of strangers is not something I can imagine anyone ever choosing, if they knew the options available.

Within minutes of Turner's birth, I was drinking a cup of coffee, eating a pb&j, and having some of the cookies Eric made while I was in labor. Turner was only separated from me for brief moments while I used the bathroom. He nursed immediately, we lay together in our own comfy bed, and we had visitors come to our house to see the new arrival. Turner was welcomed by his family - his parents, siblings, and his grandmother - and later we all lay together in bed and napped peacefully together, and life was just life, as it should be, as it has been. Bizarre only in a society that sees birth as a medical event, as a disaster waiting to happen, as something women are not capable of doing on their own.

Time-Out

I've been on a bit of a self-imposed internet vacation, or time-out.

Why? you ask. Well, I get a little sucked in to the whole virtual world, and lose sight of the actual real world around me. It's not awful, and since we don't have a TV, it is my one real vice, but I do have a tendency to get too involved in things that just don't really matter, and neglect things that do. You know, like the stack of books I've recently bought from Amazon or all the recipes I've been wanting to try out. And other things, like fresh air and sunlight.

And so, I cut myself off, temporarily. I deleted shortcuts so I wouldn't be tempted, and just generally stayed away. (And since Eric had pointed out that I read too much news - I guess that's another vice - I was just telling myself this morning that I would stay away from the news sites for awhile, too, when I heard of the shooting in Virginia, and can't stay away. I won't comment on that - there just aren't words - except to say how offended and disgusted I am by the pro-gun lobby and the way they are already using it as another reason everyone should own, and carry, a gun.)

In the meantime, after saying I needed to cut back a bit, our internet connection went down to slower-than-dialup speeds, and then my computer (which just recently celebrated its first birthday) needed to be fixed - again. And so I suffered the pain and terror of disconnecting my computer, driving it to the computer doctor, and hoping for its safe return. (Still not quite fixed - may have to take it back.)

And, while all of this was happening, Turner has not only decided that sleep is against his religion but wailing at the top of his lungs is his form of worship, but I got sick-ish. I say sick-ish, because I haven't been exactly sick, but not well either. I've had this sort of general icky feeling, for a couple weeks now, with headaches popping up out of nowhere, a sort of queasiness that fades in and out, and an abnormal fatigue. Oh, yes, I've had that terror - "Am I pregnant?!??!" - but I am, in fact, not pregnant. I'm certain. With all 3 of my babies, I've known almost immediately, and I am quite definitely not pregnant. Well, that and the fact that I would CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY if I were, because I am so not ready to be pregnant again.

But the fact that I was sick-ish but not really sick had me ridiculously worried and wondering what was wrong, and driving Eric generally insane. West Nile? - there have been lots of mosquitoes here. Hepatitis A? - we're in a high-risk area and there was the recent Whataburger incident. On one particularly sleep-less and slightly crazy night I was convinced momentarily it was ovarian cancer or something equally horrible, but snapped out of it by morning.

(I'm not generally a hypochondriac, and am generally rather healthy. I think the internet withdrawal was getting to me. I'm feeling much better now.)

So if I haven't returned your e-mails, commented on your blog, or debated you on whether Barilla Plus or Multi-Grain is better, that is why. I haven't stopped loving you and I'm not cheating on you, promise. It's just that darn ebola virus.

Finished!

And because blogger never lets me embed video (I'm just copy/pasting from Photobucket), scroll all the way down for the video.

Guthrie LOVES it, Turner likes the slide, and Eric likes that it's all done. 18-ish hours total, we think, although we weren't looking at the clock at the end. And this weekend we're set to have record cold (um, 60 degrees), so we probably won't be using it much until Monday.

Why do babies have such good skin?

It's the avocado facial they get regularly:

And what happens when you give a 3 year old the camera:

(Did I just post a picture of my husband's butt on the internet?)

Day Three

It's starting to look like something. Really.

9 Hours down, and we seem to be about halfway there - on "Phase 11" of 20.

What you can't tell in this picture is that I'm *right* at the edge of the shot, waiting to grab Turner the second I need to. He likes it too.

Day Two

This is the progress so far. How is it different than yesterday? Well, it has a ladder. It has rails around the "fort."And it has been moved. 6 Hours so far, and this is it.

We were bound and determined to have it set between the two oak trees we planted, but the ground was just not level there, and it wasn't going to work. So, now, it's been moved 90 degrees to the right, near the fence next to one of our neighbors. Probably better this way, anyway, so the boys don't stand on the fort and throw stuff out onto the street. Not that boys like to do that kind of thing ...

Today it has been rainy, and Eric had to work all day (yes, on a Saturday), so no work on the swing set. Hopefully tomorrow the weather will allow for us to finish it, or at least get close.

Day One

We bought a swing set for the boys on Wednesday. We knew it was not going to be easy putting it together, but let's not talk about the time it's actually going to take.

The first step - sorting all the parts and pieces - took an hour or so on its own. We also discovered we had the wrong instructions, and had to e-mail the company to get a .pdf of the correct instructions. And then we got started. And only had one major screw-up (two different pieces looked very similar, had almost the same measurements, and we used the wrong ones, and had to redo).

Then of course we had the minor injury - one of the sides had been put together, leaning against our fence, waiting for Eric to get the tool he needed to put the two sides together, and I was holding the other side up, when the side against the fence was blown over by the wind - right onto my head. OUCH! I'm okay, though, I think. Hopefully any brain cells permanently damaged were unnecessary and not doing anything important anyway. But that might explain my headache for the day.

3 hours into the project, and this is what we have so far:

Anyone want to come to south Texas to help put this thing together? No?

Guthrie doesn't quite understand why it's not all done, and why we can't work on it, RIGHT NOW! This pesky little thing called Eric's job is all. Jobs - what a bother.

Miscellaneous

The boys have decided 4:30 a.m. is a good wake up time. I do not agree, and am trying to figure out how to correct that. The obvious solution is keep Guthrie awake later, but then I have to do bedtime twice, or get Eric to take over for one of them. I don't like those ideas any more than I like seeing 4:30 in the morning.

Yesterday in the bath Guthrie told me he wants to be a professor when he grows up. I asked what he wants to teach, and he said, "Loud noises." Okay.

Turner is officially walking. He gets up and walks across the room sometimes, and sometimes he stumbles a few feet then falls on his butt. Try as I may to get a video of this, every time I pull out the video camera he refuses to walk. He also found a strawberry on the floor yesterday, that Guthrie had dropped, and thought it was the greatest thing ever. I think we're going to go broke just keeping the boys in strawberries.

Speaking of which, our strawberry plants are growing, but we have thieves. Oh, yes, the birds eat all the strawberries. I suppose we could get chicken wire or something to put over them, but it might be too late now. Now Guthrie wants to eat the bird to eat the strawberries that way.

My toe is better, I think.

I must remember I cannot eat most pizza. My body is apparently used to "real food," and pizza more than anything upsets my stomach. Beans, peppers, garlic - great - but pizza from a chain? No way. And I LOVE pizza. :(

Guthrie yesterday was talking about the dog we used to have, Lily, and "called" her on a pretend phone. She is happy with her new family, apparently, but misses us. He's a cutie.

My brain is not functioning well. Something about the 4:30 a.m., and the fact that Turner is not sleeping well even up until 4:30. I'd like to reboot. *sigh* More coffee appears to be in my future.

Oooowwww!!! Ouch! Pain!!!

I seem to have, to the best I can figure out, an ingrown toenail. A while back (can't remember how long - weeks, maybe a couple months) I injured my toe (somehow, I really do this all the time) and broke off part of the top layer of the nail. Didn't seem like a terribly big deal at the time. Now, however, OH MY FREAKING GOODNESS it hurts.

Started this morning, but wasn't too bad. Got steadily worse, and both boys managed to step, sit or otherwise bump it multiple times today. I've read home treatments (soak in warm water, then try to pull the nail back from the skin), and am trying them. Also just took some ibuprofen. But I just now, sitting at my desk, barely bumped the toe against a book sitting by my desk, and AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! It was all I could do not to scream out like a baby. The pain is currently shooting all the way from my toe up to the middle of my thigh.

I feel like a total wuss. I usually have a fairly high tolerance for pain, too - 3 unmedicated childbirths included - so being this crippled by a freakin' toenail is unsettling, to say the least. Add in the fact that Turner somehow injured my right nipple last night, and then he woke up at 5:15 in the morning, and I'm having a cranky day.

Any home remedies would be greatly appreciated, as would heavy painkillers.

We're, uh, home

yeah, so we got home late Thursday night. It's just taking me for-freakin'-ever to get caught back up and settled into being home again. How is it taking so long to recover from being gone? Laundry alone is a task I haven't gotten finished - I keep getting it all washed, but no chance to put it away, and by then there's more dirty! Aargh!!!

We had a good visit, overall. But we are of course glad to be home. Guthrie keeps saying we must go back to Missouri, so grandma won't be lonely, and I'm telling him that we will in a few months.

We've bought and had installed a new dishwasher. We also got and planted more trees - a peach, a plum, a magnolia and two oaks. And after I casually mentioned that I was thinking of starting a garden, or at least getting some hanging strawberry plants, Eric bought me a bunch of strawberry plants and committed me to the idea of having a garden. Our yard is slowly but surely turning into a food source.

The weather is beautiful - low 80s since we've been back - and as soon as we think it's relatively safe and free of spring-breakers, we're going out to the Island.

Guthrie had a great birthday - the celebration stretched out over 3 days. He loved his train ride to and from Kansas City, and I think he fell in love with the conductor. I'll try to post some pics later.

Samantha did very well at her math contest - 9th place in both of the tests. Her best friend got first place in one event, and qualified for state!!!

Guthrie woke up at about 5 this morning, and saw that he was all alone on the futon. He crawled over onto the other futon, where Eric, Turner and I were all asleep, and snuggled up to me saying, "I want to be with my family." How do you say no to that?

And for now, a picture we just got developed. I think it's from Thanksgiving, but I just love love love it.

Where Have I Been?

To answer the question -

Missouri. (aka Misery)

Things were too crazy, and the dates were still not set in stone, so I never got a chance to blog about it before we left. And now that I'm here, my mom's computer is very, um, cranky, and can be very slow, or just freeze up in the middle of something, so I hadn't really attempted to blog about being here. Well, that, and I've been running all over west-central Missouri visiting people, eating junk food, and amusing my small children and mother.

Here I am, though, sitting in 50 degree weather rather than the beautiful 80 degrees back in Texas. *sigh*

We are having a good time, in spite of the lack of fruit and veggies, overconsumption of high fructose corn syrup, and whatever illness Guthrie was struck with yesterday. (We decided to go to Ryan's, a nice "homestyle" buffet, where he might actually eat some fruit and veggies. We got up to the counter to order our drinks when his breakfast and previous night's dinner decided to emerge from his stomach. GROSS! And then, after his nap, whatever else might have been contained inside his tiny body exploded from the other end, overflowing his diaper and going up the front of his onesies - he was lying on his stomach - and all the way up to his chest. GROSSER!!)

Eric has/had business trips - Atlanta Wednesday-Saturday of last week, NYC Thursday to Saturday morning this week - and then his school's spring break, so I figured it would be a good chance to visit my family. It was perfect timing - Samantha's singing group had a performance this morning I got to see, tomorrow is the gifted program open house, and this weekend is her math contest, where I'll be able to attend the awards ceremony. Then Sunday we'll do cake and ice cream for Guthrie's birthday, and if all goes right, we're going to try on Monday to take him for a train ride to and from Kansas City as his birthday present (the kid is obsessed with trains) and to Fritz's train restaurant in Crown Center.

It is hard being away from home for this long, and I miss my husband - this is the longest we've been apart. I could cause a scandal by mentioning that I'm going out to dinner with a single man tonight, but Eric not only knows about it, I think he asked our friend if he'd do it.

Nothing terribly interesting to report just yet. Turner is on the verge of walking, bbut we're hoping he waits until Daddy gets back. Guthrie is getting used to the idea of turning 3 in a few days, and he's having a blast with his sister and his cousins and grandma. We're all getting enough TV and restaurant food to last us the rest of the year, and Guthrie has learned the words to the "Wonder Pets" theme song, while I keep catching myself singing the theme to the Backyardigans.

And tonight I'm eating kimchi. Yum!

Why Am I Here?

I've been meaning to address this for awhile, so I'll give it a go now.

Not too long ago, I found out that I had, apparently, offended someone in my family by some of my comments here. That was certainly not my intention, and I did send a long e-mail trying to explain things. I feel the need to do so here a bit too.

I started this little blog here solely as a means to communicate with my friends and family after our move. After we arrived in our new home, I sent a mass e-mail to just about everyone I knew with all of our new contact info, and this site address. In response, my niece and a few friends got back to me to let me know they'd other stopped by or to say hello, glad we got here okay. I knew my mom was reading, because we talk on the phone. The rest of my family, except for one aunt (who unfortunately was the offended party), never got back to me. No e-mail, no phone call, no nothing. Oh, sorry, received one of those totally un-personal Christmas card/newsletters from one cousin.

In the meantime, I started making more imaginary friends - other bloggers whose sites I stopped by to read, and who would return the favor and read what I had to say. I have had more contact with many of these people who I have never met (and, for the most part, probably never will meet) than with most of my actual real extended "family" in the last, oh, 5 years. I know more about these people's lives, and they probably know more about mine, than most of my family. Abby, Karrie, Alison, the Stuntmother, Thordora, Amanda, Amanda, Jill, Ann, April ... and whoever I'm probably forgetting have felt like more of a family to me in the past year than most of my real family.

(And rather than list off the exclusions to the generalization about my family, because I'm afraid I'd forget someone, just know that if I believe you to be reading this, you're not included in that generalization. K?)

So, at some point, when I really didn't feel like the family was reading this at all, or that most of them even gave a crap about what I was doing or whether or not we made it to Texas safely, I figured it was time to say what I wanted, and not worry about who I offended. Because if they're not even going to read it, not going to return my e-mails or phone calls, not going to invite me - when I still lived close enough - to Thanksgiving or Christmas or birthdays - then really, why should I care?

Then I realized that there are members of my family who I do still care about, and who do still care about me. Maybe in the past they didn't show it well, didn't understand what was really going on and therefore judged my actions too severely, or have never been able to adequately express their feeligns about things, but they do care, and I do too.

I know, to some of that family, some of this will have been offensive, and for that I apologize, but at the same time, this needed to be said. This is my little piece of the Internet, and I have used it to say what I feel about things, and to be honest I needed to say what I said here. However, this is also my opportunity to say that in the future, I will not use this as my forum to say what I feel about everything. I am not the kind of person who can say half-truths, or hedge my words to avoid offense when it is something I feel strongly about, so if it is something I feel may be offensive to someone I care about, I'll refrain from saying it here. And if we are all honest, everything is offensive to someone.

Judy's Journeys was the title of a book I had as a little girl, and why I chose the name of this blog. This blog is part of my journey, but for now it might get a little less controversial (as if it ever was, really) and slightly more boring (if that is possible). Keep coming back for updates on the family, on the beauty of South Texas, on the wild ride of being married to a writer, but I'll keep my harsher opinions to myself, or at least away from here.

Moving On Up

I finally had to upgrade to the new blogger. I resisted for so long because I knew I wouldn't have time to play around with it and get it just right. And I was right. I've spent the morning with Guthrie in the chair with me, while Turner was napping, trying to get everything just right, and I don't like it. The new blogger is okay, but I don't like my template, so I'll probably change it later. But for now, this works. If anything looks weird or isn't working right, let me know. If I lost a link to you in the switch, let me know that too.

V-Day

What did I get for Valentine's Day?

A heart-shaped tray of sushi, wine, Roquefort cheese, and an apple. (Eric gave it to me and said, "Because you're the apple of my eye." He's a writer. He could have done better than that. ;)

It was perfect. Although, honestly, not a big fan of white wine, but it did go well with the sushi.

Guthrie and I made no-bake cookies (they're all gone already), and I tried to put on something nice so I wouldn't feel like a total bum. And the kids slept well for the early part of the night so we could actually have some time together.

All in all, a great V-Day. Darn near perfect. 5 years, and life is beautiful, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Guthrie sneaking into the sushi:

I didn't know he was taking my picture.

5 years ago today

Ah, yes, Eric and I were legally married on Valentine's Day, 2002. 5 years ago today.

The short-but-sweet backstory? We wanted both of our girls to be in the ceremony, but couldn't make it work out to have everybody together in Missouri at the same time. So we decided to have our ceremony in Texas, but then couldn't work out the logistics of getting the marriage license, and all the other details. The solution: get legally married in Missouri, then go to Texas and we could have our ceremony however we wanted it without worrying about the legal parts. And if we were going to do it, well, why not go full cheese and do it on V-Day?

It was a Thursday morning. We both had to work. We got to the court house bright and early, with my mom as my witness and a philosophy professor and friend, Joseph Lewandwoski, as Eric's witness. Susan Steinberg, an English professor and writer, took the pictures. Afterward, we both went to work - I at the Revenue office at CMSU, and Eric to teach his classes there. My co-workers had brought in a cake and decorated my desk with hearts and cupids - it was very sweet. We both wore what we had worn on our first date. Maybe I'll have that dress on when Eric gets home from work, or would that be lame? I still love the dress.

And our "honeymoon" was a weekend in .... Omaha. Hey, what can we say, when you live in mid-Missouri, there just aren't that many places to drive for a short weekend. Omaha was nice though, and I'd like to go back.

Pictures:


Saying our vows

Happy Newlyweds

Outside the Johnson County Courthouse, where we got married. (Also where I got divorced, but hey, who's counting?)

On top of Old Drum, a local legend, the statue of the famous dog by the Courthouse

The rings

The kiss. This is one of my favorite pictures ever

Anna Nicole

I've found myself more upset by the passing of Anna Nicole Smith than I ever would have thought I would be. I haven't been able to put it into words, or figure out exactly why.

I think Alimum has said a lot of what I wanted to say, and said it much better than I probably could have. Go read what she has to say on the subject.

And remember that regardless of what you thought of her, she left behind a precious little 5 month old baby girl. Let's hope she gets some semblance of a normal, healthy life.

Oh, the 80s

What's your score?

A Day in the Life

Totally stolen from Karrie.

5:50 a.m. : Guthrie is awake next to me, and reaching around my stomach to try to play with my mole. Try to stop him. Try to tell him to go back to sleep. Finally wake Eric up, ask him to get up with Guthrie for a little while. Eric asks how long, I beg for half an hour. Roll over, get comfy, realize I have to pee. Get up, pee, come back to find Turner awake.

6:06 a.m. : Open bedroom door, ask Eric to take Turner, and to please get me up at 6:45. Roll onto stomach, pull covers over head, sleep.

6:48 a.m. : Awaken to the sound of Turner wailing in the living room. Get up, go to Turner, he wants to nurse. Sit half awake and nurse Turner.

6:55 a.m.: Use bathroom, brush teeth.

7:00 a.m.: Go to kitchen. See pile of dishes in sink, since dishwasher is broken. Try to start making hot cereal, realize pans are all dirty. Start washing dishes. Get distracted by Guthrie trying to help. Turn off water, sit on futon, "read" newspaper.

7:20 a.m.: Remember laundry in washing machine from Friday night which never got put in dryer. Start washing machine to re-wash load.

7:27 a.m.: Guthrie starts asking for "may I please have some ice cream." Say no, repeatedly. While changing Turner's diaper, hear Guthrie pulling his stool into kitchen and see him come running into living room with ice cream carton and spoon. Throw hands into the air and give up.

7:40 a.m.: Second attempt at washing dishes. Eat two giant bites of ice cream, then go to garage to put carton in deep freeze. Guthrie follows. While locking deep freeze, ignore Guthrie's cries for his ice cream back.

7:43 a.m.: More dishes, with more help. Pan is now clean - put water on for hot cereal. Fight with Guthrie for control of water. Turner standing holding onto pants leg.

7:55 a.m.: Hot cereal is finished. Sit down and try to eat. Share with Turner and Guthrie. Stick bowl in sink with hot water.

8:00 a.m.: Eric asks, "Did you sleep in your clothes?" Realize I did, in fact, sleep in the jeans and tank top I was wearing last night. Give him a look.

8:10 a.m.: Decide to finally make the beans I've had sitting and waiting for a week. Ask Eric for tips on how to make beans in crock pot. Start beans. Crumble in some bacon. Cut and saute onions, while intermittently bouncing Turner and making funny faces at him.

8:30 a.m.: Remember to throw laundry in dryer, and put more in washer.

8:40 a.m.: Eric leaves for work.

8:50 a.m.: Check e-mail, check Babycenter, leave pointless comments.

9:00 a.m.: Change diapers. Nurse Turner. He doesn't want to take his nap.

9:10 a.m.: Wash more dishes, glare at broken dishwasher.

9:13 a.m.: Threaten to take away Guthrie's kitchen toys if he doesn't pick them up. Threat almost works - he starts. Finish picking up toys. Find clothes for boys.

9:20 a.m.: Use bathroom, with assistance from two small boys. Stop fights. Repeatedly state, "Don't knock over your brother. Leave the door open."

9:30 a.m.: Check weather forecast for what to wear. Dress. Try to put on makeup. Comfort Turner, who was scared by the baby in the mirror. Nurse again. Still doesn't want a nap.

9:42 a.m.: Check e-mail, blogs. Remind Guthrie not to knock over his brother. Take away three trains which Guthrie is using as weapons. Get boys dressed for library.

10:13 a.m.: Leave for library and story hour. Realize I'm still starved. Grab handful of almonds and water bottle.

10:20 a.m.: arrive at library, let Guthrie go play, start picking out books.

10:30-11:10 a.m.: Story hour. Today, this consisted of Guthrie sitting quietly with the other kids and listening to the stories (and not participating the in the "active parts" like jumping up and down) and me sitting and holding Turner and trying to keep him occupied with my keys. Then, the craft - making necklaces. Guthrie scribbled a few lines on the "charms" (a duck and a frog) and then started stringing the cut straws. Turner started crying. He wanted to nurse, but then he didn't. Latch on, latch off. I'm trying to help Guthrie. Trying to tie the ribbon while not losing beads while not dropping Turner while not letting Turner start wailing to the heavens. We only finished one necklace, and brought the other home.

11:25 a.m.: Home. Lie down with Turner to nurse him back to sleep, then get up, fix Guthrie some lunch (cut turkey, bowl of yogurt, and a plum) and nuke me a quesadilla (spicy refried beans, tomatoes, cheese, turkey, bacon, jalapenos, and yogurt). Change out the laundry, start new load. Eat lunch with Guthrie. Take vitamins. Begin washing dishes. Finish half of what's in the sink.

12:00 p.m.: Turner crawls into living room, crying. Nurse for 2 minutes. Then, boys play, I check e-mail. Look longingly at bottle of wine. Mailman rings bell - two boxes from a friend of Eric's.

12:17 p.m.: Trying to finish dishes. Turner starts screaming uncontrollably, for no apparent reason. Must be held.

1:02 p.m.: Back in the van, on the way to the park.

1:15-2:00 p.m.: Park. Guthrie chases a couple older kids. They all seem to be having fun, until Guthrie comes running to me, near tears. He says, "Mommy, I'm not dead. I'm not dead, Mommy." I go with him to where the other kids are, and reassure him that he is not dead. The older boy says, "Why can't you go away? Go play somewhere else. We don't want to play with you." I use every bit of restraint I have not to knock the little boy out with my thermos, and then tell Guthrie the other kids are being mean, and we can go play somewhere else. Guthrie still insists on playing with those kids, so I tell him we have to go. The mean boy says, "I'm not being mean." I tell him he was little once, and wanted to play with the older kids, too, and that's all Guthrie wants. The boys assures me he didn't want to play with older kids. I have to practically drag Guthrie away, screaming.

2:15 p.m.: At Target, with screaming Guthrie. Return pants that didn't fit, get a few groceries, and Guthrie a train to make up for the mean kids. (What can I say? I'm weak) Turner screams through the half of the store that Guthrie doesn't.

3:15 p.m.: Home. Nurse Turner to sleep. I think I hear my name being called. Oh, I do. It's the bottle of Cabernet. I tell it to wait patiently.

3:30 p.m. Guthrie playing with trains, mom checking on beans and eating yogurt. I must call my mom.

3:40 p.m.: Begin making cornbread to go with beans. Guthrie wants to help. Spill cornmeal on floor. Guthrie cracks the eggs - most goes into the bowl. Eric walks in the door, announces "Mitch (his brother) will be at your mom's (to pick up Eric's VW) in about 20 minutes - call her." Frustration starts to set in.

3:50 p.m.: Cornbread goes in the oven. Throw garlic, tomatoes and cilantro in beans.

3:52 p.m.: Call Mom.

3:54 p.m.: Turner crying. Pick him up, while balancing phone against shoulder.

3:58 p.m.: Mitch arrives at Mom's, hang up phone.

4:15 p.m.: Take out cornbread, turn off beans. Pour in bowls and serve. Give Turner his first beans. Realize that giving our Turner, who can't seem to sleep through farting, beans is probably a very, very bad idea.

4:40 p.m.: Call Mom back, check on situation. All is well.

5:00 p.m.: Stare at growing stack of dirty dishes. Cuss at broken dishwasher. Nurse Turner. Play with boys. Check e-mail.

6:15 p.m.: As Eric is walking out the door, get a request to call friends back home to assist Mitch in moving the Bug. Make note. Guthrie begs for ice cream. Ice cream. Ice cream. Ice cream. Ice cream. I remember why I don't keep ice cream in the house. Give in, and give it back to him. He eats half the carton. I plan to finish it after he's in bed.

6:45 p.m.: Wrestle boys into clean diapers, PJs, and into bedroom. Read stories. Comfort Guthrie and find solution to "the Lorax," which breaks his heart. Show him the beginning of the story, when the trees were still there. Nurse Turner. Repeatedly.

8:15 p.m.: Boys sleeping. Caress wine bottle. Finish ice cream.

8:30 p.m.: Turner awake - nurse. Sit in front of computer.

9:52 p.m.: Eric home. Put Turner back in bed, open wine bottle, pour glass. Aaaah!

10:35 p.m: Get IM from Samantha. Talk to her. She made the math contest again. AWESOME!!!! And - I'll be there on that day, hopefully. Oh - Turner's awake. He must fart. Stays awake. *sigh*

11:00 p.m.: Samantha goes to bed, Turner is still awake.

12:00 a.m.: Turner finally sleeping, go to bed.



And of course, that's only what I remembered to write down. Add in about a dozen diaper changes, snacks given, a few more times nursing, lots of train track building, saving the littler one from big brother's "help," and hair generally being pulled out. Because we Stay-At-Home-Moms sit around watching TV and eating bon bons all day. :P

More sad news

We received word this morning that our friend, writer, veterinarian, and one of the all around best men either of us has ever known, Donn Irving Blevins has passed away. He will be greatly missed. I can not imagine Warrensburg without him.

He did not live to see his book, ESCAPE INTO THE SEA And Other Stories, in print. I think this is what has made me more sad than anything.

The world just lost one of its great men.

Leave a comment

I've discovered that I have, apparently, upset someone with some of my comments. I'm going to say more about this later (and probably send an e-mail explaining), but in the meantime (and since I missed de-lurking week) is it so much to ask that if you are reading this, and haven't commented before, could you maybe do so now?

Just click down there underneath the post where it says 0 (or however many) comments. Then, type something ("Hi - it's me - John Doe from Middle of Nowhere, America" would be suffficient), enter as "other" or "anonymous" and type the word verification letters (had to have them, since I've been spammed here before), and click "Login and Publish."

Pretty easy. Might help me know who's actually looking at this thing, and censor myself (or not) accordingly.

Not so much effort involved. All the cool people are doing it. Fall victim to the peer pressure!!!!!

Doctors, doctors everywhere

Turner had his 9 month check-up today. (It was supposed to be last Tuesday, but our van wasn't running, so we had to cancel. The van runs again.)

The stats:

21 lbs., 12 oz., 29 inches long

Compared to his brother (why do we feel compelled to do this?): 2 ounces lighter, 2 inches shorter.

And perfect.

I did manage to shock the heck out of the ped, when she asked how long I planned to breastfeed. I responded with, "I nursed his brother until he was 2 1/2." She asked if that "got painful" especially when they have tantrums. ? Why would it be painful? And it's an amazing HELP with tantrums, and calms kids down. It would be SO nice if peds would actually be more informed about breastfeeding. Really, really, really nice.

I did have the confidence to just answer, straight up, without any hesitation. Very proud of myself for that - it took me awhile to overcome it. Now, though, I'm completely open and honest and will answer any questions. A few weeks ago we (me and two other mothers) were discussing breastfeeding, and I told them how long I nursed Guthrie, and about tandem nursing. One of the moms had a lot of questions, but I think it opened her eyes a lot. I don't look like the stereotypical crunchy granola earth mama, and so I think it makes people actually think about their preconceived notions of things.

In other, equally important news, Eric had a physical this morning, too. The first one he's ever had, at the age fo 45. And the news? He's healthy as a horse. (Um, not Barbaro) Blood pressure was 103/60 (!), everything else was great. He won't get the numbers back on the blood tests for another week, but he said the doctor was amazed at how healthy he is (no allergies, no chronic conditions). Especially since he smokes too much, has a drink (or two ... or ten) almost every night, and drinks coffee like water. The doc does want him to come back for a lung x-ray, which I want him to do too, but Eric still says he's going to quit smoking ... soon... and wants to wait until then for the x-ray. If he hasn't done it by his birthday, then I'm going to start nagging. : )

And, I have an appointment in two weeks, for a general physical and to discuss treatment for my ridiculous PMS. I may have to give up the IUD and go back on the pill (which I don't want to do because it's almost guaranteed to cut my milk supply, and force Turner into an early weaning). We'll see.

Ah, having health insurance - finally - is a great thing.

Our annual family photo

Never got around to posting this. It's our family photo, taken New Year's Day. We finally figured out how to use the timer on our camera.

Blogging Baby Image of the Day

Samantha and Guthrie are Image of the Day over on Blogging Baby! Click the headline to see.

The wine rack is full

It looks like some strange form of punishment, doesn't it?

My uncle Bill, my mom's brother, passed away last night.

He was a good man, who had lived hard, but had, from what I could tell, a huge heart. When I was going through a hard time in my life - during my divorce, when I felt like everyone was against me - he made a small gesture that stood out to me so much, and made me feel like there was someone on my side, someone who still cared about me.

Right after my grandma died, everyone present was hugging and consoling each other, and I was standing off to the side by myself. I wasn't a part of the family then, I didn't feel, and haven't felt that way since. Bill saw me standing off all alone, and came up and put his arm around me to see if I was okay. He was the only one to acknowledge that I had feelings too, and that I was sad to see my grandma go. I couldn't allow myself to cry - the black sheep has a reputation to uphold - but at least he knew I wanted to.

That small gesture meant the world to me. I have a picture of the two of us at my wedding reception, which I treasure.

I'm sorry I'll be unable to attend the services, but will be there in spirit.

You're (not) getting sleepy ...

Can I just say it is currently almost 11 at night and both boys are WIDE AWAKE!!!!!! I don't know how they do it. I need more sleep. Nothing is working, and I've given up. They'll eventually pass out, right?

(And I wanted to add that I noticed I've been stealing all kinds of things from Alison lately. My version of cyber-stalking, I guess, and that I have nothing interesting of my own to say)

Personality Test, stolen from Alimum

My Personality

Neuroticism	28
Extraversion	38
Openness To Experience	71
Agreeableness	11
Conscientiousness	40

You are neither a subdued loner nor a jovial chatterbox. You enjoy time with others but also time alone. You are generally calm and composed, reacting moderately well to situations that most people would describe as stressful. Novelty, variety, and change spice up your life and make you a curious, imaginative, and creative person. People see you as tough, critical, and uncompromising and you have less concern with others' needs than with your own. You are reasonably reliable, organized, and self-controlled.

Test Yourself Compare Yourself View Full Report Ugg Boots, Cheap Ugg Boots and MySpace Surveys by Pulseware MySpace Layouts This actually fits about right. I'd like to think I'm more concerned with others' welfare than it says, but I don't know - I know I don't do enough to help others, so it's probably right. Am I "tough, critical and uncompromising?" Yes, I guess, at least in some ways. Boring? Maybe.

Yeah, I'm boring

We've all been entirely too boring lately, and I've had nothing of note to add to the blogosphere. Sad, really, I know. I mean, I could tell you all about the 16-bean soup and ham I have in the crock pot, or the strangely refreshing cool weather, or the great new black skirt I got at Target, but who cares, really?

The only interesting thing? I finally set up a MySpace page, and through it have found some old friends. Very, very cool! I located a couple of my old roommates who I haven't seen in a good 5+ years, cyber-stalked at least one ex-boyfriend (gourds if he has a sitemeter and locates me!!!!!) (Eric does know about it - we looked up some of his exes too, but couldn't find any), and am generally wasting way too much time sucked into the MySpace universe.

I could go on and on about how great it is, but at the same time how really scary, but most of you have btdt, so I won't. But it is, still, very very cool.

Guthrie said:

In response to Daddy's statement to "be careful with Turner, he is little and fragile:"
"Soon he will be big and it will be better to knock him over."

Links

I've added two new links over at the side of the page, over there--------------->

One is to my T-Mobile photo album, with pictures taken from my phone. (Camera phone was my Christmas present, thankyouverymuch) The pictures are, as such, not great, but since sometimes they're taken when a regular camera is otherwise unavailable, they're kind of cute.

The other link is to my Fit Day Journal. I signed up for this not because I need to lose weight (I don't - I stepped on the scale a few days ago to see I was officially back to my pre-pregnancy weight), but because I need to a) eat healthier, and b) get more exercise. I thought keeping track of my food and activity, and being responsible to anyone who wants to read about it on the internet, might help me stay on targe.

So, for the first part (eat healthy): Over Christmas break, with all the traveling, having the girls, and everything, my overall diet went downhill. And now, I'm trying to get it back under control. Now, I realize that my "junk food diet" is still better than the "SAD" (Standard American Diet), but with the whole family history of diet-related health problems, I feel it's got to be even better than that.

And going to the El Pollo Loco website, and seeing that the (very yummy) burrito I had yesterday for lunch (which also cost like $5!) had 1,100 calories!!! did put things in perspective. But man, was it yummy.

And we'll ignore the fact that Guthrie and I shared a Snickers bar for breakfast. Eric bought it yesterday, and we had to get rid of it, right? (Where's the blushing emoticon when you need it?)

For the second part? More exercise? Well, I went to Curves for Women last week, to try out their free 3 day trial. I actually really like it there, and for someone so totally out of shape like me (I may be a healthy weight, but trust me, I'm out of shape) I think it will be perfect. Except - I'm so out of shape I injured myself already. I went in on Thursday and Friday, and my calf muscle in my right leg has hurt - really hurt - all weekend. It's getting better, finally, and I think I'll try going back on Thursday.

If I join, my goal is to go in on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, as those are times Eric's schedule will definitely let me go. And my goal, aside from being fit? I want to wear a bikini this summer. Yep, that's right. Hold me to that goal, please?

My only real concern about Curves (I've read some criticisms online, but think they don't apply because I'm in the group Curves might benefit the most, and because you can get what you want out of any work out plan, if you try) is that both times I've gone most of the other women there have been Winter Texans. Which is not a bad thing, except that these ladies 40 years older than me are in much better shape, and I don't know how much of a motivator it will be. Actually, probably a huge motivator not to let a 70 yo woman kick my butt!

I've also been trying to get back into the habit of taking the boys to the park every day. We've been doing well, but we hadn't been walking there, which I'd like to start doing again. Except that it got cold, and so for a few days we're staying home!

So wish me luck. Tell me to lay off the candy and cheese. And get off my butt.

South Park Williamsons

Stolen from Alimum. What Eric and Judy would look like in South Park.

(And forgive the bad photo editing - I can't seem to get it to work right)

I look too much like Anna Nicole Smith, but Eric seems about right. If only I'd been able to put a beer in the other hand. Don't you want an English prof who looks like this?

Snow? Ice? COLD?

Look over there ------------------------>
at the little Weather Pixie. (Okay, you have to scroll down too) See what she's wearing? See the temperature?

Uh-huh. It's cold here. Yes, I said that - COLD! Right now, as I type, it's 35F.

Now, I know to those of you stuck back in Missouri, who are dealing with single digits and negative wind chills, it's not that cold. But here - it was 80F yesterday. We were at the park in shorts and sandals. It NEVER snows here (I don't think it's going to, but there is a chance of sleet or flurries), and people are seriously bundled up in parkas, gloves, and all-out winter gear.

We even had to turn our heat on! (Which sucks, because the heater makes everything dry and feel nasty, and we don't have a humidifier anymore)

I'm not complaining. My tree is still blooming in the front yard, our banana tree has gotten huge (no fruit yet). I am a little concerned about the orange trees, though. And that people were looking at US like we wre crazy because we didn't have coats and hats on the babies at the bookstore.

So, feel for us people. I'm wearing sweats instead of capris! The palm trees need jackets! It's COLD!

6 Weird Things

I've been tagged by Alimum for this meme. 6 Weird Things about me (That I feel comfortable posting for the whole world to see)

And I don't think I "know" six more bloggers to tag. :( I'll try though.

So ...

1. I have a strange ability to name the year a piece of popular music came out. This only seems to be applicable to the last 30ish years, but it's very good. Eric will sometimes even play me music I've never heard, by some obscure band only he and one some guy in Vancouver listen to, and I'll look at him and go, "1982," at which point he'll check the date on the record, and sure enough, I'm right. Sometimes, all I have to do is look at the album art, and I can guess it that way.

2. I take a ridiculous pleasure in some of the most mundane tasks, which other people despise. Filling out forms, for example, or taking surveys. At the doctor's office, I actually look forward to the part where you get there early so you can update all of your patient information forms. I'll take surveys all day, just for fun, and will fill out every one I get in the mail, even if I don't send it in. If it has bubbles and needs a Number Two Pencil, even better.

3. I can remember useless numbers forever, and will never forget a birthdate once I've learned it. I can tell you my best friend's phone number from 6th grade. (Last 4 digits, 5876). The birthdate of every ex-boyfriend I've ever had (whose birthdate I knew). Every family member's birthdate. Even my husband's ex-wives' birthdays. And, more uselessly, (unless I'm ever on Debt, the game show), the birthday of every member of the New Kids On The Block.

4. I feel much more comfortable when I am wearing a bra. So much so that I often sleep in one.

5. I love tomatoes. I mean, I really love tomatoes. Salsa is probably my favorite food. A treat is one of those little containers of grape tomatoes. When my husband wants to do something sweet for me, he'll slice a tomato, drizzle a little olive oil, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, maybe some garlic or other spice. I'd take a big bowl of tomatoes over most candy, most of the time. But I despise ketchup.

6. In elementary school, for a program, we learned a song where we sang the 50 states in alphabetical order. I can still do it.

Okay, so I'm not that weird.

And I'm tagging ... Abby, April, and, uh, those might be the only untagged bloggers I know. :(

Peyton Manning

Sucks!

Playoffs

I was excited to see that the Chiefs had indeed managed to sneak into the playoff picture. I was getting all ready to listen to the game today. I'm even wearing my new, pink Chiefs t-shirt my mom got me for Christmas.

Then I decided to actually look it up and see how they are playing.

Colts. Peyton Manning.

Yeah, forget it. Final score? 45-6, Colts. Or something like that.

*sigh*

The football gods hate Kansas City. (So do the baseball gods, but that's a different story)

Pointless Coincidence

While napping with the boys a little while ago, I had a dream I was reading a softcore porn magazine featuring nothing but Kirstie Alley. The mag was called "Thighs." Thought it was strange.

Then I looked at my blog stats, and discovered that someone, while we were napping, found me here through a link from Karrie's blog post about Kirstie Alley's Oprah appearance, and the controversy afterward.

Pointless? Yes. But very very strange.

Profiling

Eric has spent the last 36-ish hours driving both girls back to other family members, for them to go home. He left here yesterday morning, drove to north of Dallas to meet Samantha's grandmother, and then headed south to Houston to take Rosalind home. He spent the night west of Houston, and now he's on his way home.

He is a white male, driving alone, in a white Ford pickup with Missouri plates.

And he says he's been followed by a Border Patrol agent for quite some time now, even through a stop to get gas and a stop to relieve himself at a rest stop (the BP stopped at both places too). He was about to go through the Checkpoint, and was feeling rather sure he'd be stopped soon. He said he got pulled over yesterday and received a warning "fix it ticket" for a light being out, except it wasn't. Out, that is.

I do see that he fits a profile, of, what, some kind of smuggler. Don't know if he seems more likely to be smuggling drugs or people. But this is kind of ridiculous. And what would he be smuggling into the Valley?

When he drove to San Antonio, alone, to fly out of that airport, he was detained for quite some time at the Checkpoint. It was 4 a.m., and I could see how that looked suspicious.

Of course the really funny part, at least to me, is that this always happens to him. In Missouri, he drove an old, beat-up 1970 VW Beetle, and got pulled over countless times, because with his long hair and beard he looks (apparently) like an old hippie, and they assumed he had some pot with him. In all his times of being pulled over (a dozen or more, at least, in about 3 years time) I think he only got one ticket.

He's never been pulled over driving our van, driving my old Cougar, or when the kids and I were with him.

I guess that what he gets for being a redneck Ph.D. Get a haircut, and get a real job ...

Miracles do happen

Guthrie is currently sleeping. In his own bed. By himself. In his room. In his bed. By himself. Alone. Sleeping.

I'd take a picture, but the flash would wake him up.

How'd he get that way? (Asleep. Alone. In his own bed.)

His amazing, incredible, miraculous, wonderful, super big sister, Samantha. Yep.

Okay, that combined with the threat that Daddy was going to pick him up and take him to bed. He closed his eyes to pretend he was going to sleep, and really did!

If only it would last.

We're home

We're unpacked. The floor, which less than 24 hours ago was spotless, looks like the Christmas gift Grandma (thank you!) train derailed on it. We have all our little ones with us. We are (or at least I am) exhausted. And so no news for now. I leave you with pics, and will tell tales of travels, toddlers, and testosterone later.

My husband announced

that the women he drools over are, not necessarily in this order,Julie Adrews and Ingrid Bergman. That, if given the choice, he would take Julie Andrews over Lauren Bacall.

Prompted, I'm sure, by watching the last two nights, Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music.

Since all of these women, now, are either old or dead, I'm not too worried. I'm still not sure how I feel about it though.

Julie Andrews?

"Ouch," cried Turner.

The title is a quote from Guthrie last night. He "pushed" Turner down (it was a rather gentle push, more of a "helping him into a sitting position"), and then made the above statement.

Made me wonder if he doesn't hear a few TOO many stories. I know that's not really possible, but the kid has suddenly been speaking as if the entire world is a giant storybook to be narrated.

Could quite likely be his newfound obsession with all things Thomas, and the way the Thomas movies (which we so kindly - or crazily - bought him to get him through his illness) are narrated, the characters themselves not speaking the words but instead George or Ringo (or whoever it is who does it on the videos we have) altering their voices and reading the storybook.

Anyway, it's cute as all hell, and had me cracking up for hours afterward - I just kept looking at Eric and saying " 'Ouch,' cried Turner" - but I don't know if it's really a good thing. He plays with his little trains and toys, and instead of just making them speak, he does the, " 'Hello,' said James, 'What are you doing Percy?'"

Cute kid. Weird kid.

"What do I do with him?" said his mother.

Oh, and I might add, that with this newfound Thomas obsession, not only is Eric's friend officially "George the Steamroller," and his friend Gordon a "talking train," but I am Mama the Tank Engine. We're all trains. I'm a steamie, Daddy and Guthrie are diesels. But Turner is just a boy. Shows what he thinks is important.

HO! HO! HO!

Why do we feel the need to subject our children, our beautiful babies, who we got fat and ugly while pregnant with, and nourished with only the milk from our own bodies for goodness knows how long, to this sort of strange torture? Especially when we know that, decades from now, they will turn crimson in embarassment when we show these pictures to their girlfriends, college roommates, and future spouses?

But ain't he cute? It's a naked elf eating Eeyore.

Those Crazy Vegetarians

This news story didn't surprise me in the least. The higher a kid's IQ, the more likely they are to become vegetarian as young adults. A new idea for why higher intelligence is related to better health.

Totally is supported by my experience, too. I can't say I've ever known a dumb vegetarian. Usually, it is the stupidest people, too, who are most appalled at the idea of giving up meat, and who can't fathom how could possibly get everything you need without eating a dead animal.

(Realize I'm making this argument as someone who is NOT a vegetarian. I have, at times, gone a month or more without meat, but am, by my own admission, too weak and lazy to go all the way. And could never, never, never go vegan. I love cheese. I mean I LOVE cheese. As in, a world without cheese makes me very, very sad. Gruyere. Bleu. Hell, sharp cheddar - I don't care. I freakin' love cheese.)

And even among the people I know who do eat meat, the more educated and intelligent the person is, the less meat they eat, the more open they are to eating meat-less meals, and the more they care, in general, about food issues.

Ha! Although we are going to the grocery store soon, where we'll be buying our "road trip" food - lots of soda, juice, Cheetos for GusGus, I want me some guacamole Doritos, and probably some lunch meat and cheese for sandwiches. Another veggie issue: how do you eat meat-less, and healthy, on road trips? Fairly certain we're not going to find a "great little vegetarian restaurant" in Guthrie, Oklahoma, or off the Kansas Turnpike. (Or we could take the Turner Turnpike north of Guthrie, to complete the namesake-filled trip. Ah, but we'll already be passing through the Turner Falls region of Oklahoma)

Curious about other people I know. Vegetarian now? Ever been? Open to meat-free meals? How does that relate to your IQ? (Yeah, I know, trusting self-assessment of IQ can be a bad idea: "I've never been tested, but my mom told me I was a genius!" does not cut it.) For myself: I'd actually have to dig up my score, which I'm not going to do, since I can't remember the exact number. I looked up a chart, though, and I fall firmly in the "gifted" range, and am heading further down the meatless path everyday. Eric is the same, although his number is higher than mine, and might be right up in the genius area.

Beta?

I think I'm finally going to attempt to upgrade to Beta. I've been having problems posting comments to other people's blogs, and wonder if this is part of the reason why. And I hate being behind the curve. :P Bare with me if this get weird. Wish me luck.

And, I finaly got around to coming into this decade and setting up a Myspace profile. It's lame and I need to add more, but Eric and I were browsing MySpace last night looking for people (we found mine, but not his), and I figured I should make it easy for people to find me too. Although the ease with which you can find your old people was a little bizarre, and I must admit I'm having a bit of a strange MySpace hangover this morning, having dsicovered the pictures and profiles of various people I haven't seen or talked to in nearly a decade. I knew I would have MySpace dreams all night last night, but instead it was X-Files dreams: I was Scully. And I wasn't doing what I wanted to be with Mulder. *sigh*

Still sick

There is an advantage to having sick kids. You suddenly have very cuddly kids.

This was how I spent my evening yesterday. Turner was asleep, and Guthrie fell asleep rather quickly. Excuse my exposed belly - at home I nurse and half the time I forget to cover myself back up.

Somehow, I've managed not to get sick. Eric came down with the stomach bug in the middle of the night last night, but is starting to feel better now - and managed to go into work today! Guthrie never got the stomach ickies. He was running a 103 degree fever off and on, had a runny nose, and just generally was tired and feeling bad, but no major symptoms. He's had this happen once before - high fever, no other real symptoms, over it in a few days.

He spent most of the day on the couch today, watching the Thomas and Friends movies Daddy bought him yesterday at the store.

He's feeling better now, I think. His fever seems to be gone, and he got off the couch to play with his toys for the first time today. The adventure will be getting him to sleep.

At least we got sick before our trip. And maybe I can get some sleep before we leave - with two sick kids, I haven't gotten much at all.

Sick

I've had fantasies of Guthrie some day just crawling into a comfy position and laying down to fall asleep. He's almost 3, and he's never really done it. Until today:

Unfortunately, it's because he's sick.

Poor things. Turner started throwing up last night about 9 o'clock, and kept it up off and on for most of the night. This morning it switched ends, and he had a fever. This afternoon, I was sitting in a chair holding a sleeping Turner when Guthrie climbed up next to me, and I noticed I was surrounded by little hot men - Guthrie had a fever too. Shortly after Eric got home from work, GusGus (he doesn't like being called Gus, but GusGus is okay) lay down on the floor, and when I checked on him he was asleep. I'm guessing he'll wake us up shortly with the pukies, too.

But in today's good news, we got our health insurance cards in the mail today. Yep, that's right, we're now insured! Isn't that the most amazing, incredible thing ever? And what timing - the boys get sick on the day we get our insurance cards!

We'll be taking off for Missouri in a week. So much to do to get ready - groceries, wrap gifts, laundry - I have 4 differents lists going! But we can't wait to see everybody.

No other news, really. Eric's friend George came to visit last week. In the Thomas the Tank Engine books, George is the steamroller. Guthrie was unable to say the name "George" without following it up with "the steamroller." George is getting a silly Christmas present from us soon because of that.

Turner sitting on a slide

Guthrie at the park

OH, and I might add that I'm still having a hard time with the fact that we finally put up Christmas lights and little miniature trees while our tree is still blooming and we had to turn the a/c back on today.

Heifer International

Click the link in the title to check out this organization.

I'd never heard of this group before this holiday season, but apparently they got my name through some of my crazy liberal associations. I've been looking for ways to donate and try to do more than give some toys or a Christmas dinner, and this looks like it might be it. I can't do so much as to give a heifer this year, but maybe something smaller.

I was trying to explain this to Guthrie earlier, too. I've been trying to think of something to do for the wonderful lady who does story hour at the library, who used to be a teacher and I'm certain has entirely too many cheesy knick-knacks and thank you plaques sitting around her house. We were thinking of making a gift of a beehive, or some chicks, or maybe a trio of rabbits in her name, along with a tray of cookies. She strikes me as the type who would appreciate that more than another apple paperweight.

If you haven't decided on your holiday giving yet, go check it out. It really struck home with me.

Yes, it is okay

To whoever found me through a search for "is it okay not to have a large family, homeschool and grind wheat," yes, yes it is okay. And if you're doing a google search to find the answer to that question, I say it's probably best if you don't. Just my opinion though.

Thanks for putting a smile on my face, and leaving me a little confused.

Holiday Meme

Got this in an e-mail from my friend Tonya. Now everyone knows I'm a big old scrooge around the holidays, and get annoyed hearing holiday music starting in October and seeing lights up before Thanksgiving, but I do like the holidays. Really I do. So here goes.

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Hot Chocolate. I hate egg nog. Barf.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? As a kid I think ours were wrapped. Eric and I leave the gifts from Santa out under the tree.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? Colored. If we do lights this year.

4. Do you hang mistletoe? Yeah, usually. Who doesn't want another excuse for a kiss.

5. When do you put your decorations up? Not until after Thanksgiving, but generally when we get around to it. Hopefully before the 25th. :P

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Pumpkin Pie Cake

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child: Getting my John Deere combine as a present.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I was 7. My parents told me, because they thought we were going to be poor that year and I wouldn't have presents and would figure it all out, so they told me first, in the summer. There's actually more to this, and the fact that this was one of the more traumatic moments of my life, but that needs its own post someday.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Christmas morning.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? With whatever we have - no theme. Handmade construction paper ornaments, glass balls, whatever.

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? Eh ... I'd like one snow and that's it. Not going to happen in South Texas, though.

12. Can you ice skate? Yeah, right!

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? I'll have to think about it. I got my engagement ring from Eric around Christmas time, I guess that counts.

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you? Spiked cider.

15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert? fudge is good

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Driving around looking at lights.

17. What tops your tree? a star

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving? Giving, especially to the kids

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song? "God Rest Ye merry Gentlemen," and the tune of "What Child is This." I'll Be ome for Christmas always makes me cry, even if I am "home."

20. Candy Canes: Yuck or Yum? okay

21. Favorite Christmas movie? It's a Wonderful Life - need to buy it on DVD.

These are the moments ...

Yesterday, I had one of those moments when I just knew what it was all about, what I was doing this all for.

The boys were playing (!) together (!) in their bedroom (!) in their little playhut school bus. I was on the floor next to them, watching. Suddenly, Guthrie just reached over, grabbed Turner and held him close, and said "I love you." Oh, yeah, it definitely did bring tears to my eyes. Eric walked in right after, and I was a bumbling mess.

I have to remember that moment when Guthrie is trying to drag Turner around and away from his toys. Or screaming at us because he doesn't want to go to bed.

In other, completely unrelated news, dishwasher cleaner rocks! We have the cleanest, sparklingest dishwasher ever right now. We also have a sink full of dirty dishes which I'm not going to bother with until tomorrow, but you should see our dishwasher! Totally worth the $5 (or however much it cost) for that stuff. And I think it finally got rid of the fish oil smell too!

Turkey Day

Our little Thanksgiving getaway was great.

Living nowhere near family, and not close enough to drive, we're working on starting our own new traditions. We're planning on trying to do a Thanksgiving at the beach every year. This year we were kind of poor, so instead of going to one of the restaurants serving a full Turkey Day buffet - I just couldn't see paying $60 or more to eat a bunch of food we don't really like that well anyway - this is what our feast looked like:

Notice the biggest part of the meal seems to be the apple pie! We had turkey and ham (lunch meat), whole grain (store bought) bread, two kinds of (pre-sliced) cheese, chicken strips, Cheetos, a bag of fruit, and that weird thing on the left is a potato wedge. Oh, yeah, and some beer and wine!

(Forgive the Wal-Mart. Not many options on South Padre, and we needed non-grocery things too, that could only be found at Evil Central)

I have to admit, I enjoyed this much, much more than a traditional turkey, ham, veggies-covered-with-fat and fruit-covered-with-sugar family dinner. And there was NO STRESS!!! Slap some meat, cheese and mayo (and mustard for Max), between some bread, grab an orange and some apple pie, and down it with some beer, and there you go!

I think I'm going to like Thanksgiving from now on.

We went to the sea turtle rescue center on the Island too. This was really amazing for me. As we were walking around, waiting for it to be feeding time, Eric was talking about how sad it was, and how disturbing it is. I mentioned that with all the reports about seafood lately - both the mercury content and, even moreso, the overfishing problem, I was having a hard time eating any fish at all lately, and didn't think I could anymore. Eric looked at me and said something about what difference does one person make, which felt really discouraging to me.

As we were listening to the presentation, the man mentioned that one of the species of sea turtles had been down to a population of about 300 on the Island, but now is up to over 9,000. The organization is almost entirely volunteer, and consists of very few people. I looked at him and said, "What was that about one person not making a difference?"

Here's our little sea turtle:

And with Jerry, a famous old sea turtle. I love the way Guthrie is looking up at him, like, "Dude, you're kind of big. Don't eat me."

Guthrie running to the beach:





How's this for a way to spend the fourth Thursday in November?



And, my cute little boys, together. Guthrie grabbed Turner and said, "Take a picture!"

Good news

Eric's book was named one of the top 100 books of the year by the Kansas City Star. Not bad. Not bad company to keep either - Cormac McCarthy, Pynchon, Richard Powers. Congrats, also, to Wayne Miller, whose book of poetry was on the list, as well as the list of the top 10 books. Not bad for a first book of poetry.

The other, better news though - Eric doesn't have cancer.

What? you ask. Well, see, Eric has had a mole on his back for, well, ever. In the last week or so, he noticed it seemed to have gotten bigger. We were both freaking out - he worked for years in construction, going shirtless in sun and heat, making him a prime candidate for skin cancer.

After calling every dermatologist in the Valley, and being told repeatedly that they couldn't get anyone in until January, sometimes March, we finally found someone who, by chance, had an opening yesterday, and Eric got right in.

Fortunately, no cancer. Doctor did a thorough check of the mole, and Eric's entire upper body, and he's fine. But that was very, very scary. Strangely, while Eric was at the doctor, I dealt with my fear and nervousness by cleaning. Don't know where that came from.

And, so, when he came home, he asked if I'd like to spend Thanksgiving on the beach. That might be one of the dumber questions I've ever been asked. I'd like to spend every day on the beach, so yes, of course I'll spend Thanksgiving there. I'm getting ready to reserve us a room, for Wednesday and Thursday nights.

The funny part of that, is knowing our little Guthrie, who has been begging since we got back from Victoria to "go to 5 hotels," we have to stay in a lesser hotel (we'd thought of the Holiday Inn resort that's right on the beach), because what he wants is the continental breakfast. Yep, he wants sugary cereal and little cups of yogurt, and a full restaurant breakfast would likely disappoint him. Funny kid.

A weekly recap

Haven't been on much this week. Oh, I've been online, just not on here. The boys have both this week been rather, well, difficult. I think Turner is about to cut his first tooth, and Guthrie is going through some weird stage I don't know what to do with. He's been waking up with nightmares at 3 a.m., screaming about ladybugs and not wanting to be flushed down the toilet and begging for glasses of soy milk. I've been exhausted.

On top of this, we had our friend, poet Kevin Prufer here visiting since Wednesday. It's been a lot of fun, and I guess Kevin did amazingly on his various lectures and readings around campus and town, but it was strangely hard on Guthrie. He had a good time with Kevin, but Guthrie can be unpredictable and will react to some things in the exact opposite way you'd expect. So, for example, when Kevin was showing him magic tricks and pretending to eat one of Guthrie's toys, Guthrie freaked out. Total meltdown. He was upset about it for the whole day, telling me, "Kevin will not eat my tree. Kevin must eat food," with tears streaming down his face. *sigh*

Oh, yeah, and Kevin got in Wednesday night. I was informed of his visit on ... Monday evening. Yep. Somehow, I didn't get that memo. I vaguely remember Eric asking me if those days would be okay, but I don't remember any confirmation that he was indeed coming. Words of wisdom: If you have company coming, tell your spouse/partner/roommates in advance, and 2 days does not count as in advance.

The weather here lately has been perfect. Absolutely what you would order if you would ask for your perfect day (well, at least I would). 80 degrees during the day, 50s at night. Bee-you-tee-full.

So, now that we've been having this great weather, I've been making a point of trying to talk a walk with the boys to the park every day. The park is a little under a mile from our house, so the walk to and from is at least a mile and a half, pushing 50 pounds of kid in a stroller. When we get there, if it's not busy (most of the time during the day we're the only ones there), Guthrie gets out and plays on the playground while I push Turner, who usually falls asleep, around in laps on the sidewalk around the playground. I can see Guthrie the whole time, I'm never really any further from him than if I was sitting on the benches by the playground, and this way I can get some additional exercise. I even bought a digital pedometer, so I can keep track of myself. It tells me my total steps, aerobic steps, time spent in aerobic exercise, and how far I went. I'm getting a solid half hour or more of aerobic exercise every day now, and have gotten as much as an hour and a half. I feel great, too.

We also paid a whopping $15 and bought an exercise machine from our neighbor's garage sale. I don't know exactly what to call it - an Airstride or something. I figure for $15, if I only use it a little bit, it won't be a huge waste of money. We're leaving it in a corner of the living room so I can sneak on it while the boys are playing. Well, that was my plan, but every time I try to step on it, Guthrie does too, and that doesn't work. So it might have been a waste after all.

It's only 5:45, but I'm already starting to nod off at the computer. I'll try to give a little more tomorrow, as it has been an interesting week. For now, though, I need coffee. I'll sign off with pictures:

Wild parrots, less than a block from our house. I could hear them out our window. They're beautiful.





The tree in front of our house is flowering. It's a butterfly magnet, and this morning I lay on the floor of the boys' room and watched dozens of butterflies flutter around they tree while they played. I've also seen hummingbirds on it. The butterflies are very pretty, and come in all colors. Eric almost cut this tree down to put up an oak, but I'm glad he didn't. Now I won't let him. ;)





And blogger still won't let me embed video, so click here to see a video of Guthrie singing his ABCs.

Guthrie is not a word

He's a cute kid. Smart kid. Loving, sweet, great kid.

But he's about to drive me bonkers.

It's the same thing, every night, when we're reading.

I'll be going along, reading his bedtime stories (all 5 thousand of them), when I have to look over to see how Turner is doing if he's not yet asleep, or look at Guthrie to see his reaction, or ... whatever. You know, you can read a sentence and then reading it out loud takes longer, and so you look around while you're reading? Yeah. But then Guthrie's reaction, if I'm looking at him:

"I'm not a word."

Looking at Turner: "Turner's not a word."

Or sometimes he quotes the exact words: "Turner is not the Ugly Duckling." (See, he could be telling me Turner is the ugly duckling, so it could be worse.)

"The clock is not the big, big bridge."

You get the picture.

At first it was kind of cute. And it's a good sign of pre-reading skills, too, I think, on at least some level.

But it makes reading time rather difficult for me, and I want to pull my hair out. Sometimes Turner takes off crawling, and Guthrie is constantly giving me, "Turner is not a word. Turner is not Topham Hatt. I am not Celeste."

To the point where it takes forever to read one story, and neither one of us can concentrate.

I don't think he's old enough to understand how it works. I've tried. I'm at a loss.