WTF???

I cannot stop thinking about this heart-wrenching tragedy in Connecticut. I can't even come up with a word awful enough to describe what happened there last Friday. The worst ones I can think of do not even begin to cover it. What a hateful, senseless, disgusting, cowardly, EVIL act.

It breaks my heart every time I think of the parents who kissed their babies goodbye for the last time ever that morning, and dropped them off in a place where they should be safe. I can't imagine what they must be feeling; I guess I hope they're not feeling anything yet.

Henry stayed with my parents last Saturday night, and even that small separation caused me endless anxiety. I couldn't fall asleep without hearing his breathing on the monitor. Every time I would finally nod off, the thought of his empty crib in the next room would jolt me awake. Even though I know he's safe at my parents' house, and that every person in it would die before letting my precious come to harm, I know that no place is completely safe. And now I also know that even 24 hours is too long to go without kissing my beautiful boy.

I bawled like a baby on Sunday night, listening to President Obama read the names of Heaven's newest angels. There were so damn many. And I held my baby tight even when he tried to squirm away, because who knows how many more hugs I'll get.

God help us.

Party on the Potty!

Oh, I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined what I'm about to write. I already mentioned - months ago - how uncomfortable I am/used to be about bodily unpleasantries. That has fallen by the wayside now, after 18 months of motherhood, and Potty Time is quickly becoming my favorite time of day.
We bought Henry a potty for his birthday, but it was clear he wasn't ready yet. We let him get it out of the box and explore it, and then waited patiently until he showed some sign of wanting to use it. At this point he's been using it for about a month, and I'd say he's batting about .500. So, since I stay at home with him during the day, I'm the one who typically sits there with him, singing and dancing to encourage him. He's already begun some most hilarious Potty Time habits, such as:
*After he does his business, he gets an M&M as a reward. He used to eat them, but now he drops them "accidentally" into the potty and then signs for another one. Cheeky little boy.
*He loves to "read" Elvis' bathroom crossword puzzle book.
*About half the time he doesn't want me to put his pull-up on him (independence!), so I'll hand it to him. He does one of two things with it. He either pretends to wipe his bottom with it, or he puts the pull-up on like a hat.
*He also enjoys a rousing game of shower-curtain peekaboo.
*He loves to sit on his little potty while I'm sitting on the big potty.
*Sometimes he'll sit on the closed potty lid and "read" a book for 5 or 10 minutes at a time.
*When he hears his potty hit the water, he makes the most hilarious Excitement Face in the universe. His eyes get enormous, his mouth shrinks to a little dot, and about half the time he squeals with delight and then falls off the potty laughing.

Every day I think to myself "There's no way I could love this little boy one iota more than I do right now." And the next day I'm always proven wrong.

 

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So Very Thankful

Ahhh. My very favorite time of year is upon us. Thanksgiving is past, and Christmas is less than a month away. There's a bit of a chill in the air, and homes and businesses are all decked out in their holiday finery. Bliss.
I had a wonderful Thanksgiving week last week. For the first time, Elvis had the opportunity to work flex days over the summer so he could be home with us all week, and it was great. He'd been working like a dog lately, and was really looking forward to the rest. Friday AND Saturday night of last week, we took a handful of his theatre students to see shows in neighboring towns, so even though his work-week ended at 4 on Friday, he wasn't done with teacher duties until the wee hours of Sunday morning. That man works so hard for his family. We are so lucky.

After the late start to the vacation, we had a great week of doing almost nothing until Wednesday, when I spent the evening baking pies. The next morning the three of us trekked down to my parents' house this year and - for the first time ever - E's parents joined us there to celebrate. It was a really small T-giving for our family this year, but that was nice. Henry had a great audience all day, and had a blast showing off for his grandmas and great-grandma. What a little ham.

I spent most of Friday decorating our house, and it looks pretty good. I decided not to put up the big tree this year to avoid the constant shouting of "Henry, NO!" and I was a bit nervous about how our house would look sans tree. But, thanks to Pinterest, I was able to come up with some good, toddler-safe ideas. Yay!

Saturday morning we got up and snuck back to town to surprise my favorite aunt & uncle who had decided to make a surprise visit (that's right, we surprised the surprisers). We met up with my mom and Aunt Bunny at the mall, and I thought everyone was going to wet their pants with delight. Bunny hadn't seen Henry in a few months, and was sad to have missed him at Thanksgiving, so I think it made her weekend to get to snuggle with him for a few hours. Then on Saturday evening a friend of mine came over for some frolicking. She decided to stay for awhile, so we pulled out one of our homemade board games, and had a super time playing and giggling and eating pizza. It was a grand time, and I was sad when it was time for her to go home.

I could not have wished for a better week or a happier Thanksgiving day, and I'm so thankful for all my many blessings. A beautiful home; a loving husband; a healthy son; supportive friends & family scattered across the country; and a breathtaking homeland where the stars at night are big and bright, and - best of all - we can enjoy 'em in our t-shirts even at Thanksgiving.

Oh, Pinterest ...

Of course I'd heard of Pinterest, I don't live under a rock.  My favorite aunt started talking about it at Christmas this past year, saying I could find hundreds of activities and such for little Henry.  It sounded interesting until I heard there was a "waiting list" to join.  Forget about it.  I wasn't into cliques in high school, and I'm certainly not into them as an adult either.  I kept on hearing about the magic of Pinterest, though, and finally one afternoon at my parents' house I got suckered into it.  Let me be clear, I was only checking it out to help my mom in her quest for window treatments.  I checked out her pins, made a few new ones of my own, and then spent the next ... I dunno ... 63 hours or so browsing.

This was totally me.

It. Is. Awesome.
Yes, it's true.  I've been on Pinterest for about 3 weeks now, and already Elvis is just sick to death of hearing about this or that new thing I've pinned.  It's a good thing I have a toddler to look after, or I don't think I'd EVER put the iPad down.  Seriously.  I'm thinking about "multitasking" with it right now.
Anyway, a few good things actually HAVE come into our lives from The Great Timesuck, I'm proud to say.  I made a great little toy for Henry out of an old coffee can and some milk lids, and we've tried some bathtime tricks and games as well.  He's playing a Pinterest sorting game as we speak, actually, sticking the handles of his baby spoons through the holes of their dishwashing basket.  What a magical site.  Ahem.  Also, my mom AND my grandmother's Christmas presents this year are already underway, inspired by some of the beautiful DIY projects.  But what I think I'm proudest of is that I have found a house-cleaning regimen that works. 
I've only been doing it for a week, but that's about 4 days longer than I've ever stuck with any sort of cleaning regimen in the past.  Ha ha.  Seriously, though, I HATE cleaning.  So last week was pretty rough, as starting a cleaning routine always is.  I had a few weeks' worth of clutter sitting around on my tables and counters, as is typically the case at my house.  But once I got started it was so easy.  I do a few major tasks each day (today was laundry and weekend damage control) as well as a few small ones (I also wiped down the walls in the kitchen, as well as the coffee and dining tables, and the kitchen trash can).  Now my house just stays clean-ish all the time, and I can make progress on the detail work, like tidying drawers, organizing Henry's closets, washing exterior windows, and dusting the louvres on my utility room doors.  It's true, I haven't actually DONE any of those things yet, but ... well, at least now I don't have a good excuse.  Maybe next week when Elvis is home from school all week. 
Also, although I don't have the patience or the steady hands to try all the awesome nail art ideas on Pinterest, I WAS inspired to paint my nails for the first time since Henry was born.  It makes me feel a little bit like Betty Draper when I'm doing my chores.  Except that I've seen every episode of Mad Men twice now, and I'm pretty sure I never see her doing any actual housework.  So there, thanks to Pinterest I know I'm at least as good a housewife as Betty Draper.  Thanks, P.  ;-)

Grandbaby Fever

Okay, so I used to tease my mom all the time that she started wanting grandkids a few days after I was born. She's never denied it, and I've never understood it. Until now, that is. I guess I couldn't think past the whole being-old-enough-to-be-a-grandmother aspect. Anyway, now that I know and love my own son, I can totally see the draw of grandmotherhood. 

First of all, grandma is everyone's favorite, isn't she? I know Henry is completely crazy for his 2 grandmas and his great-grandma. I mean, the clingy little monkey who wants me to carry him around all day will actually push my face away in his excitement to get to any of them. They love him and spoil him so much, it's no wonder he's head over heels. That's gotta be pretty gratifying. 

Also, grandmas don't discipline much do they? Of course they don't let him get away with ANYTHING, but ... well, almost. That's as it should be, I understand. But still, I feel certain my parents never let me do a lot of the things that are so charming coming from their grandson. 

And of course, the very idea of the child of my beloved child is pretty magical. Henry's so magnificent, I get excited about his pee (we're potty training, I'm not gross); I can only imagine how spectacular any child of his would be. I certainly don't want to rush through the years, but I have to admit I totally can't wait to hold each of his -hopefully many- babies in my arms. The very thought brings tears to my eyes. It must be pure joy to hold the magnum opus of your own magnum opus.

Happy weekend to me

Well, we had a super weekend. I didn't even realize how refreshing it was until just before bed last night. Friday was the first day of Hunting Season 'round these parts, and the men in my life (father, husband, brother) went out to the family's land to celebrate in style. That left me, Henry, and my mom with nothing to do, so we spent the weekend together. We did some Christmas shopping, went out for every meal, stayed up late watching Mad Men, and giggled at the hilarious antics of my adorable son. My grandmother came over  Saturday afternoon to see her favorite guy, and they had so much fun. I will not reveal her age, but it's amazing to see her crawling around on the floor and swinging that little dude around. They've always seemed younger than their age, but Henry has totally reinvigorated both Nana and Gramps. 

We went to church yesterday morning, and -as usual- it seemed like the sermon was just for me. "Big Milt" talked about living in your Big self (kind, patient, generous, etc) instead of your Small self (petty, gossipy, stingy, etc). This is something I struggle with pretty regularly, I admit. Being in the house with just a toddler for company all day sometimes leads me to feel resentful and angry, which leads me to behave in an unpleasant fashion sometimes. I just need to remember to think before I act or speak, and remember that, as difficult as our life can be, we have been so richly  blessed. Then, in Sunday School (during which my little monkey charmed all the ladies into playing peekaboo) we talked about Extravagant Generosity. The topic was talking about being financially generous, and the whole time I wanted to call out my mom (and dad). They are so generous in so many ways. Aside from all they do for my little family, they give generously to lots of causes, particularly schools and our military. A few months ago they anonymously paid for the lunches of a big group of soldiers who were eating a few tables over from them. They give freely of their time and energy as well, through church and work programs. I'm so proud of my parents for all they do for others. They are such wonderful role models in so many ways. 

After church we went home to put little Henry down for his nap, and I made a cake for Daddy's birthday. I had just frosted it when the guys got home from Place (the ranch still does not have an official name, after almost 3 years), and I was so pleased at how delighted my dad was with his cake. My mom does not cook, so his birthday treats are of the store-bought variety unless I make them myself (which I almost always do, of course. I'm not a perfect daughter, but I understand the importance of a homemade-with-love birthday cake!). It's so easy to make him happy (as though a whole weekend of hunting, whiskey, and off-color jokes with the guys didn't do that). 

Finally we loaded everything into the car and went home, but not before I acquired a new piece of furniture. My parents had this cabinet in the garage that they didn't know what to do with, so I took it off their hands. I had been racking my brain trying to figure out what to do with our overcrowded patio out back. Now it's looking great, all my gardening junk is concealed, and the cabinet is still less than half full. This thing is going to free up so much closet space! Wow, that's a lame thing to be so excited about. Ah, the joys of growing up ... ;-)

So, after all the fun and organizing, I was exhausted and ready for bed by 10:00 last night. Elvis changed the sheets (!!!) and I was out like a light.  Ahhh, what a wonderful weekend! 

What Might Have Been

October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I'm so sad that we have to have such a day, but I think it's great that there's recognition for this horror, and support for the parents who face it. Lately I've been inspired by the courage and faith of women who've had reproductive difficulties, some of whom I'm blessed to know, and some whose voices I hear through their blogs. Many of them have happy endings, and some don't. But the point is, these women have been brave enough to open up about the most painful moments of their lives. And so I think it's time to tell this story:

In 2009 I took my first positive pregnancy test. Elvis and I were on Cloud 9 and could barely contain ourselves. We told my brother and E's best friend, but decided to wait til after my initial OB/Gyn appointment to tell everyone else our joyous news.  I began a baby diet and started taking prenatal vitamins. We went out and bought a few cute non-gender-specific onesies. We planned and dreamed and talked to my belly. And then, 4 days before my appointment, I miscarried. 

I was "only" about 9 weeks along, and even though there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, I was devastated. I withdrew into myself completely for a few weeks. I ended up telling my mom and my best friend about the miscarriage, but nobody else knew. I didn't answer the phone or respond to emails. I mostly just sat around our apartment crying and feeling some wretched feelings: I was angry at myself for not being a good enough mother; I was terrified that Elvis would be mad at me (so silly. He was -as he always is - wonderful); I was worried that I'd never have a baby. I was the lowest I've ever been, and then it got worse: my oldest friend announced her pregnancy less than a week after I lost mine. I couldn't even bring myself to be happy for her. I felt petty and ugly for my jealousy, but I couldn't help it. Over the next few months more of our friends made their big announcements, and every time it felt like a slap in the face. 

Finally, one day, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Our friends Dustin & Becky announced their impending arrival in July of 2010. I still felt faintly jealous, but more importantly, I was happy for them. Elvis and I had dinner with them a few weeks later and even brought them a baby gift. They were both so excited and Becky was positively glowing. It was the first time in almost a year that I didn't want to scratch out the eyes of an expectant mother. We had a great time and I guess God was pleased that we had finally been able to deal with our grief because 2 months later He rewarded us with another little pink plus. 

We decided to tell our family and close friends right away. Elvis thought (and I agreed) that we should take all the prayers and positive thoughts we could get, right from the start. About a week later, I was going to the bathroom before bed and noticed some spotting. It was only a little bit, but given our history Elvis decided we should go to the hospital. They ran some tests and did some ultrasounds and finally, with the bedside manner of a goat, the doctor told me to go home and see what happened, and that I would likely lose the pregnancy. Clearly all the love and prayers from our family worked, because I took another positive pregnancy test a few days later. Everyone stayed positive, and Elvis and I were so thrilled and relieved to see a healthy heartbeat at my initial OB/Gyn appointment (which happened to fall on my dad's 55th birthday. It felt like a lucky day, and I'm certain that a healthy grandchild was his most fervent birthday wish). 

Medically, the pregnancy wasn't easy. At that same appointment I was tested for Gestational Diabetes, and the tests came back positive. I had to see several specialists throughout the course of my pregnancy, which - in addition to my regular OB/Gyn visits - made me feel like I was living in doctors' offices. I got to be chummy with many wonderful nurses, and grew to hate the inappropriately named non-stress test. I got sick at every one of my many ultrasound appointments. In the final weeks I battled high blood pressure, and even spent a few nights in the hospital. But I was a cheerful patient, knowing that whatever awful routines they put me through, I would come out a winner. Sure, collecting your pee in a jug for 24 hours sounds dreadful (it WAS dreadful. I had to do it 7 or 8 times. Elvis kept my spirits up by referring to the bathroom as "hittin' the jug"). But at the end of it all, I would finally hold in my arms the piece of my soul that I hadn't known was missing. My beautiful, healthy son is truly a miracle straight from God. 

Even now, 3 years and one healthy son later it still hurts to think about the loss of that first pregnancy, and the painful months afterward. I feel so grateful to have had my supportive, loving husband by my side through the ordeal. I wish nobody would ever have to go through the loss of a pregnancy or -far worse- a child. What an unimaginable nightmare. If this unspeakable horror has happened to you or someone you love, I pray that you will find the peace your soul needs, and that you will one day know the bliss of holding your new baby in your arms. Miracles happen every day. 

You Don't Own Me

So this past Sunday was the first birthday of our friends' son, and we were invited to an exclusive (well ... family only) party to celebrate. We arrived with bells on, excited to see our friends for the first time since Henry's birthday. The daddies were outside grilling while the mommies (and grandmommy) coralled the kids inside. Mr. and Mrs. P had secured their enormous living room and filled it with balloons and toys. What on earth could be better for the 18-months-and-under set (or, indeed, the 3-7 crowd once their little tummies were full of delicious treats)? Henry loves other little ones, and he quickly fell into a "conversation" with the birthday boy and his cousin. They were so cute, sharing their sippy cups and babbling, giggling and pointing at each other. Adorable. At any rate, in all the excitement the birthday boy toppled over and bonked his head on the fireplace. Being the closest person over 3, I immediately grabbed him and started to soothe him, as he was more scared than hurt. As I rubbed his little noggin (and - more importantly - he saw his mommy come running) he started to calm down. Just in time, too. Mrs. P. arrived to scoop her little guy up just as mine began to melt down. Henry did NOT like to see somebody else in his mama's arms, and he threw a royal fit to let everyone know.

Of course he cooled down after a few moments of back-rubbing and forehead kisses, but it was kind of a big deal at the time. It was the first time Henry ever had to share Mama with a "stranger", and even though I hated seeing him upset, I have to admit it was kind of ... sweet(?). He's such a sweet little guy, and usually pretty good about sharing things, but it's kind of touching that -right now at least- I'm the one thing he does not share. 

Fine. He does own me. And I'm okay with that. 

Our Favorite Time

One afternoon this summer, Elvis and I were channel surfing, and happened upon something wonderful: a TV show teaching sign language. We'd read articles about how babies can communicate with sign before they can speak, and even seen it in action. So we got a book of basic signs for baby. It's beautiful, with lovely photographs and descriptions of the motions. But E and I are both the kind who learn by watching, and so Signing Time quickly became our family's favorite time (and communication tool!). We've been watching for a few months now, and I can proudly say I'm actually learning something. 

Signing Time is on PBS and features hostess Rachel, her daughter Leah and her nephew Alex. Each episode has a theme (eg. Around the House), and words are taught in small groups (3-4 at a time) and then reinforced with songs. It's been so great to learn a new way to communicate, and I've loved the results. Henry doesn't seem inclined to speak any time soon, but he does know a handful of signs. He can ask for milk or cheese,  is working on crackers, and lets me know he's hungry without throwing a fit. 

Since school started back up, Henry and I watch it each day before nap time, and then I show Elvis that day's lesson when he gets home that evening. It's such a wonderful tool for our family: we're learning a new skill and giving Henry the power to communicate. 

Game time!

I would absolutely give this show 2 hearty thumbs way up. Check your local listings for Signing Time, or check out their segments on YouTube (I particularly enjoyed Leah and Alex's version of the Star Spangled Banner)  I hope it becomes a cherished part of your family's daily routine, too. 

What's In a Name?

I love baby names. In particular, I enjoy hearing the crazy things people name their children, or the unique spellings of more traditional names. I feel sort of sad for all the Kortnees, Neveahs, Aidans, and Braedynns out there whose parents went for the fad names. Alright, I'll just say it: I love my son's name. The more baby names I hear these days, the more I love the one we chose. Several people have asked me recently how we chose his name, and it's a story I love telling so here it is. Brace yourself, it's a bit long. 

My husband was born with baby fever. Once I caught it too, baby names became a common topic of conversation for us. In the summer of 2009 we found ourselves in the midst of this conversation, and finally chose the names we wanted for the son and daughter we wanted one day. We'd always loved Katherine for a girl, and we chose Jackson for a boy. Not 2 hours after we'd agreed, word came that Michael Jackson had died (seriously. It was eerie). That wasn't such a big deal breaker, but then my cousin gave birth to a little angel a few weeks later and -not content with all our grandmother's antiques and heirlooms - she stole my name. Back to the drawing board. 

Let me interrupt here and tell you I had some strict criteria for a name:

1. It had to be something that was neither too common nor too out-there. 

2. I wanted our child to have nickname options. I've always hated that my name can't be shortened. 

3. I wanted our child to be named after someone special to us. 

4. No awkward initials or monograms. 

When I finally got pregnant in the fall of 2010 we had to get serious about a name. Katherine had fallen by the wayside, and we needed some good candidates. Elvis suggested Heidi for a girl, which I loved immediately. I could just picture a little girl with Elvis' golden hair, hunting Easter eggs in a little princess dress (you caught me, I can still picture it). I think I was the one who suggested Henry for a boy. They both fit all my criteria, and they had a bonus: Both are German names (to honor my heritage). 

When we found out I was going to have a boy, we were over the moon. I just loved the name Henry, and still do. It's a good solid name: even the nickname we chose is a classic (Hank). I know nobody will have difficulty spelling it. And he's named after some great men: Hank Aaron, Hank Williams, King Henry VIII of England, and his Poppa (with whom he shares a middle name). And I LOVE its meaning: Ruler of the house. What could be more appropriate for a baby? 

At the end of the day, I'm just glad to be able to say that I adore my son's name more every time I hear it. Way to go, team!

What are your childrens' names, or names you love? Or, what are some of the strangest names you've heard? 

Another???

So I guess it's that time now, huh? People are delighted with their babies, and are deciding to have The Second. In the past month, 4 women I know have delightedly announced their second pregnancies, and another has announced her third. I'm excited for them of course, but as for myself, I just can't imagine having another baby right now (heck, I can't imagine having another baby in the next 2 years! People sure do love to ask though, don't they? A month after Henry was born, people started asking me about having The Second). I'm flat-out exhausted keeping up with one climbing little monkey, keeping the pets' tails out of his mouth, and trying to encourage him to talk already (to say nothing of my housewifely duties of laundry, dishes, and the like). I don't know how people do it. 

Last night Elvis and I - just in casual conversation - talked about parenting and our feelings about going through it again.  I was genuinely surprised to hear that he would like to have a daughter one day. The whole time I've known him, he's wanted a son.  At my 20-week ultrasound, when we found out we were having a Henry instead of a Heidi, (after I made an Anne Boleyn joke that made the U/S tech uncomfortable) he assured me that one healthy son was all he wanted from my uterus. I took him at his word, and the three of us have been a loving, happy family since.  

As for myself, I don't really know what I want. I'm so torn on the idea of another child. I guess there are pros and cons, huh? Ooh, let's make a list!

PROS:

1.  Henry would have a sibling.  I would kind of like for him to have a brother or sister (in theory, anyway). My brother and I were always close, and I would love for my son to know that special bond as well. Also, Elvis is the only only-child I've ever met who wasn't completely self-absorbed and weird. 

2.  Pregnancy. Mine was the happiest time of my life. I loved watching my body change and adapt to nourish the new life within. Truly miraculous. 

3. The relationship between Elvis and me grew so much deeper and more profound. I recently read a quote that I wish I could remember. I can't though, so to paraphrase it said something like this: we loved one another so fiercely that magic happened.  The love we already shared has grown and intensified through this amazing experience, and I know that another baby would have the same effect. 

4. A baby! Who doesn't love a sweet new baby? The weight of them sleeping in your arms, their delicious baby smell, their round little bellies, their toothless smiles, their sweet little fingers and toes ... Sigh. Magic. 

5. Baby clothes. This one gets a category to itself. I freaking love baby clothes. So much the better if we're talking about baby girl clothes. Squeeee!!!

CONS:

1. Birth. I know, I know. But hey, I did it once and now I know what to expect. Scary. 

2. Financial fears. Pregnancy and childbirth were expensive, but then there are costs like feeding a kid (we spend almost as much money on milk now as we used to spend on cable), finding a bigger place to live, furnishing another nursery, etc. 

3. Exhaustion. I've got enough on my plate without a brand new baby. 

4. Superstitions. I had a wonderful pregnancy that resulted in a pretty spectacular child, and our family is so happy. I guess it's silly, but I fear things wouldn't go so smoothly the second time around. 

So I guess our conversation didn't really go anywhere. I certainly don't even want to think about The Second for another year or two. I'm just content with what I have: my smart, funny, kind, handsome hubby and our glorious son, who is so much like his Poppa. 

Friday Night Football

My fantastic husband was hired for his first teaching job 2 days before he officially graduated from Texas State University in 2008.  He went to work in a small town nearby and - to our delight - it's a really wonderful community.  The people embraced Elvis for all his wonderful qualities, and then extended that embrace to me and eventually to precious Henry.  We love being a part of the community, and to that end our little family loaded up and headed out for our annual High School Football (I think that's the grammatically appropriate reverance required from a Texan) season opener last night. 
We got there in plenty of time to get good seats, up at the top of the stands near the band.  The weather was absolutely beautiful for a football game: cloudy and warm, but with a pleasant breeze. Especially as the sun went down, it was just a lovely evening.  To nobody's surprise, the band sounded fantastic.  One of Elvis' best students is a drum major this year, so it was great to see her leading the better-than-ever 2012 band.
The actual surprise of the night was the football team itself.  They had a whole new energy about them.  Nerves and excitement, of course, but also a confidence that they seem to have lacked in years past.  They went out there and got down to business, and scored their first touchdown within a few minutes.  At halftime, our guys were up 21-6.  What a great first half!
Henry freaked out a little bit at the overwhelming crowd response to that first TD, but that was the only moment of the night he didn't love.  For most of the first half, he sat happily in my lap or Elvis' and clapped along with the band, or sucked his beloved thumb and watched the game.  Around the middle of the second quarter he started to get a little squirmy, so we decided to walk around a little bit.  On our way out of the stands Elvis stopped to talk to a few people,  and we ended up standing around the fence near the entrance to the stands, greeting teachers and students as they came in or went to the concession stand.  There are a lot of new teachers and administrators this year, so it was nice to meet some of the cool new co-workers E's been talking about, and their families.  Everyone was so  nice, and so pumped for the year.  And, of course, they had such wonderful things to say to and about Elvis.  He's getting to be kind of a Big Deal there.  At the very least, he garnered rave reviews as the MC at yesterday's pep rally.  :-)  Oh, and of course everyone oohed and ahhed over each other's babies.  Henry was praised many times over for his handsome face and sweet nature, and his adorable dancing & clapping along with the crowd.  Fun times were had by all.
We got to watch both bands at halftime, and they were both good.  I myself was in the marching band (and - for one magical year - the Feature Twirler), and I still love seeing the band.  It's always cool to see what they're doing these days.  The Eagle band was, like I said, better than ever this year.  They added a dance element for some surprise showmanship, and it was really fun!  I can't wait to see the show when they're all uniformed, and not in their casual jeans-and-band-tee getup for opening night. 
As the band finished up we decided it was probably time to go.  It was already about half an hour past bedtime, and we still had a 30 minute drive home.  Rather than risk a fussy baby, we cut our losses.  Henry was still in a good mood, and stayed awake long enough to eat dinner and drink 3 glasses of milk before falling asleep. 
What a night!  Ahh, I do love Game Night!

Back to School

So Elvis goes back to school this Monday and Tuesday for some campus planning activities (I think that's just Principal Code for "More time away from your families"), and then the following Monday for real. I have to say that this summer has been WAY too short. Last summer was so bizarre time-wise, between the week in the hospital and then adjusting to life with a newborn, that it seemed to last forever. But this year, I feel like summer school JUST ended, and I've only had a few days to spend with my beloved boys. I guess that's because we've done a lot of little activities. We went to the zoo; we visited my favorite aunt in Houston; Elvis spent a weekend with my dad out at my parents' ranch; we've gone swimming at least 3 times a week. We rearranged our apartment; we've cultivated some wonderful new friendships. We've written stories, and danced, and painted, and made up an album's worth of songs. We've cooked; we've gardened; we've slept in, and we've cheered on our Olympic heroes in London. Elvis and I even got to see a movie one weekend (One of only 2 since Henry was born)! But between all that activity, I don't feel like we've had any time to hang out and be bums. Maybe our hanging-out-and-being-bums days are behind us now. Huh. What a tragic thought.
Anyway, today was the first day of Back to School practice and I just did not feel like I was ready. I did manage to get everyone to bed at a reasonable hour last night (difficult indeed with my night-owl husband), and get the coffee pot pre-loaded. So we got up at 6:15 this morning (BOOOO!) and Elvis hopped in the shower while I walked the dog, made coffee and put his lunch together. Then he left and since Henry was still asleep I had - for the first time in weeks - time to myself! I had to use it to search for my house keys so I could run to the store this afternoon, but still. I'd forgotten how nice it could be to be alone for a few minutes.
We're more than halfway through our first practice day now, and it's been excellent. I really really love being able to stay at home with Henry, and make sure that he's getting the food, attention, clean diapers, and mental stimulation he needs. It's difficult to be "alone" all day, and in charge of the running of the household, but it's also so ridiculously rewarding. And even though I miss some of the little luxuries that 2 incomes provided, I would not give up this time with my son for all the money in the world.

... In a Jam

One of the great things about being married to a teacher is that he has summers off.  Elvis almost always works summer school for a little extra money, and we've taken some pretty awesome trips in summers past.  Last year we had a baby, so we knew that this summer would have be extra-super to top that.  Word came through the grapevine of a giant family reunion in Oregon, and we hoped to take our first family road trip up to meet all our new aunts, uncles and cousins.  Sadly, things did not pan out for us and we were unable to get the trip together.  Who knew that one little baby would make things so complicated?  ;-)  Anyway, since travel and new parenting were not on our agenda this year, we had to think of some way to make this summer awesome.  After much thought, a theme was born: 2012 would be the Summer of Sauces.  We came up with a few specific recipes we wanted to try, and I took the reins.  Elvis and I both enjoy cooking, especially together.  He is a natural whiz in the kitchen, and I usually play the role of sous-chef.  Unless we're baking, and then I get to be Boss of the Kitchen.  But I thought it was high time I brought something to the table other than dessert. 
After lots of discussion (and recipe hunting) I decided strawberry jam would be a great start.  I got some delicious-looking strawberries at the grocery store yesterday, and undertook my first great culinary experiment:

I rinsed and hulled 2 lbs of strawberries (since it was my first attempt I wasn't sure how many to get).

Next, I mixed together 2/3 cup of Splenda and 2 tbsp. of instant Pectin.

Then, I mashed up the strawberries (a few at a time) with a potato masher.  My, that was fun!  I used 1 2/3 cups of this mush for jam, and put the rest aside.

 I added the strawberries to the Splenda-Pectin mixture, and stirred continuously (don't forget to scrape the sides every now and then!) for 3 minutes.

Finally, I poured it all into a jar, and let it set for 30 minutes.  The recipe didn't specify whether to let it set on the counter or in the fridge, so I did the counter.  It didn't set well, so I put it in the refrigerator where it did solidify a little bit better.

Elvis and I enjoyed our delicious jam this morning over homemade waffles.  It was sweeter than I expected (I may experiement with a teensy bit of lemon or lime juice the next time), but oh so delicious.  And the best part, of course, was that I made it all by myself!

The jam was really a success, so stay tuned over the next few weeks for more of my culinary adventures during 2012's Summer of Sauces.  And, once I get a few sauces down, I'm going to tackle canning with the awesome new pressure canner my parents got me for our wedding anniversary.

So Much Excitement ...

Well, what an exciting weekend. Henry and I experienced our first professional soccer game together on Saturday night. We were in Houston for what turned out to be a mini family reunion, and my uncle had bought tickets to the Dynamo game for everyone in his company. Since some people were unable to make it to the game, it turned into a family outing! I was a bit nervous about how little Henry would react in a stadium, but everyone agreed that we'd just leave if he started fussing. So we packed up and - after an incredibly delicious dinner at Don Carlos - made our way to the stadium.

I am not really a big fan of soccer (Baseball is the first love of my father AND my husband, so it's always been pretty much The Sport in my family), but we sure did have a blast at that game! First off, the BBVA Compass Stadium was ridiculous. I've been to a fair number of professional sports venues, and this was by far the nicest. Obviously it was new, but it was also a comfortable place to sit and enjoy a game, despite being open-air (in Houston in July). Our seats caught a nice breeze, and there was - get this! - actually a bit of space between the seats! Glorious. Even Henry enjoyed himself. There were so many lights and people for him to watch that he was constantly entertained, and (somewhat to my consternation) he even enjoyed the Dynamo Girls nearly as much as Uncle Taylor. In fact, the only problem he did have was when the Dynamo scored. The crowd and the fireworks were so loud that they just terrified my poor Lovebug, and he burst into tears each time. Lucky for me, he's so easygoing and happy that his fits never lasted long, and he would quickly move on to the next game of Peekaboo or a new lap.

After our first professional soccer game

Oh, yes. The gloves. Well, Uncle Virgil thought it would be fun if all the people from the company wore orange gloves to support the team (team colors: orange & white). So we all donned these vinyl gloves and proceeded to wave many, many spirit sprinkles toward the field. I'm pretty sure it worked, as the Dynamo beat the other guys (Montreal) 3-0. USA!

The rest of the weekend was fun but pretty uneventful. We went swimming for a little bit, but mostly we all laughed and ate all weekend, catching up with one another, laughing at Henry's adorable antics, and celebrating Grampa's 77th birthday. It was such a great weekend, and it made me feel so lucky to be a part of such a fun, sweet, loving family.

My sweet, goofy boy

Things have rocked along swimmingly this week as well, with small bursts of excitement. On Tuesday evening I was taking a quick potty break when I heard the dreaded bonk and wail from the living room, followed by a frantic flurry of motion. By the time I made my way to the nursery, things had spiraled out of control. Henry was shrieking (in panic more than pain) and thrashing about in Elvis' arms as he tried to assess the damage and contain the blood (!!!). Our little monkey had tripped and fallen, biting his tongue in the process. Combined with the excessive teething-related drooling, the blood just got dripped everywhere. We finally got the bleeding contained, but then there was another problem. Since Henry had bitten his tongue, it had swollen up considerably and any time he moved it too much (like say ... for talking or eating) it would scrape against his teeth and start bleeding again. Oh, my poor baby. Elvis gave him a bit of medicine for the pain, but it was obvious the bleeding was freaking him out. It took almost an hour to calm Henry down. He couldn't eat so I nursed and rocked him to sleep, which was very bittersweet. It's been awhile since I nursed period, and it was so very sweet to hold my son and comfort him as he nodded off to sleep. What an absolute joy he is, every minute of the day. Elvis and I checked on him every hour or so until we went to bed, to make sure he was still doing fine. Sweet Henry slept peacefully through the night with no more bleeding, and has been in fine spirits ever since. He was pretty funny on Wednesday, with that swollen tongue. It looked silly all flopped out of his mouth but it did encourage him to try making new sounds, so that's a win in my book.

And the last bit of excitement has nothing to do with my own precious family at all: a very old friend of mine joyfully announced her pregnancy yesterday. She and her husband have wanted a baby so badly, and finally - after years of tears, disappointments and prayers - she was overjoyed to share her happy news. I am so overjoyed for Sarah & her husband, and for her parents who must be beside themselves. What a lucky baby, to be coming into the world so beloved already. And what an incredible lady; her faith and her patience throught the last few painful years have been so inspiring.

And now, I hope it's not too much to ask for a few days of nice boring quiet. I just don't know how much more excitement I can take this week!

The Big 0-5

Elvis and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary on Saturday.  It was a nice weekend and we had a lovely time together reminiscing about our beautiful wedding day, and our five blissful years of marriage.  We even had a rare night of babylessness, as my parents were only-too-delighted to take Henry for the night You could say we squandered it, since we opted NOT to dress up for the fancy restaurant, but instead enjoyed some delicious fried seafood and frozen drinks.  But it was a wonderful evening with my very best friend and soul mate, and it was exactly the anniversary celebration we wanted.  And on top of all that, we got to sleep in til 10 the next morning!  Woo hoo!

In all seriousness, it was crazy to look back at our lives and see how far we've come.  You could say we came from different worlds, and a lot of people had their doubts about the two of us together.  But I'm proud to say that what we have together is The Real Thing.  It's not always a bowl of cherries, but there's nobody I'd rather have by my side through this adventure.  And now, to have added this amazing child to our harmonious home has made life that much sweeter.  I have loved every second of our marriage, and I could not be more excited for whatever the future holds.

The best part of the weekend, to me, was the review of all the fun we've had together.  So, here are a few of my favorite memories with my beloved.



One of our first photos together.  We'd been dating about 2 months.  I love this pic, and Elvis HATES it.




Every inch the blissful newlyweds





We had a blast in Philadelphia for our 2nd anniversary.  It was a perfect vacation!



We have been to 4 Major League Baseball parks together.

We had just found out I was pregnant a few weeks before, and Elvis couldn't resist pointing out where his baby was growing.  He was spectacular during my pregnancy.



The very first picture of the three of us.  That is the face of a man in love with his family.



5 years of wedding bliss!  I love this man more every day!



A Birthday Fit For a King

Poor Henry's hair was getting ridiculous.  Even without the "helpful" comments of strangers, we knew it was time to cut it.  I think Elvis & I were both pretty proud of his glorious mane of hair, and I know that I, at least, was nervous about the idea of scissors near my baby's head.  We decided that his first birthday was a great time to make a milestone moment, and waited out the weeks.  I wish MY hair would grow as fast as that kid's does!

Anyway, the night before The Big Day we decided the time had come.  The weather was nice enough that we hauled Henry's high chair out to our small patio, and I - so eager for the beautiful memories - grabbed the camera.  I had a plan of attack for the actual haircut, but before I could implement it (pun intended) those long pointy scissors caused what could only be described as "hysterical giggling" to explode out of me.  I turned my back to try to get a grip (fail: I ended up laughing til I cried) while Elvis stepped up to the job.  I was close to containing myself when my beloved put down the scissors and said:

     "You need to assess how bad this is, and either fix it or tell ME how to fix it."

Ahem.

So I was actually not quite so horrified to see this:

I wass still a little bit horrified, but to be honest I was terrified that my kid had just lost an eyebrow at the very least. I did laugh a little bit more (and cry .... a substantial amount: Hey, it was my baby's first haircut after all!), but in the end we agreed we should quit while we were ahead.  And so this silly face is what we get to see for the next ??? months.  Hopefully like, 3?

On the actual Day of Birth, the three of us and Elvis' mom made a trek to the San Antonio Zoo.  We met up with my mom there, as well as our friends and their son.  What better way could there be for a little prince to celebrate his first birthday?  None, as it happens.  A great time was had by all.  The boys had a great time seeing all their favorite animals, and the grandmas had a great time fawning over both adorable little guys.

The big Pool Party was that Saturday, and friends and family came from all over the place!  Everyone had a great time swimming, eating, and enjoying the antics of sweet Henry and his adorable friends Lili and Harley.  I made a gorgeous blue three layer cake (Were was my camera at cake time?  I didn't even think about it after all that work), Elvis grilled all day, and Henry fell in love with watermelon.  All in all, I'd say it was a pretty perfect first birthday for a pretty perfect child.

And I will end this post with a note to my son.

Precious Henry, you have made every day a joy since the moment I saw your face.  I love you so much and I always will.  Happy birthday, and many many more.  XOXOXO, Mama

The Crazy Thing I Did for Love

I recently turned 29, and I have to admit that - for weeks beforehand - I was really dreading it. 29: it just sounded SO old! Never mind that many of my friends have turned 29 (and older!) with grace and poise, I was just nervous about it. I mean, it’s only 365 days from 30 and I think we all feel a little wary of that big number, don’t we?

At any rate, as I was celebrating with my family the weekend before my big day I indulged in a bit of reflection. What was the big deal about 29? I figured out that it just sounded so much older than I feel. I definitely feel like I’m a lot wiser and more mature at 29 than I was at 28, but I’m just not ready to be quite so grown-up. So I did something I’d been thinking about since we found out we were having a Henry (as opposed to a Heidi): I got a tattoo!

If you had asked me 2 years ago, I would have told you I would NEVER get a tattoo. It’s not that I’m morally opposed or anything like that. I just couldn’t have imagined an image I would want on my body forever. I mean, I wear my wedding ring every single day, but even that comes off in the shower. But in the past 11 months I have been transformed into a new person. It’s not just that I gave birth and so I felt like I could handle the pain of the tattoo. Nope, it was more that. I feel so much love and joy on the inside that I wanted to have a physical reminder that I could look at any time. And even though it hurt (still not nearly as much as labor, obviously) and I’m certain it’ll be my only tattoo ever, I’m so glad I got it. My parents were less than delighted when they found out, but I didn’t do this for anyone but me. And maybe a little bit for Henry. So when he grows up he can see that my love for him is so overwhelming that I just couldn’t contain it in my heart. It had to spill over to my ankle.

Happy (belated) Mother's Day!

Ah, Mother’s Day. I hope yours was phenomenal. I think it goes without saying that I have a brand new respect and awe for all moms everywhere this year, now that I know what motherhood is all about. I was blessed to be able to see the most important moms in my life this year. My mother in law had to work (boo!), but she joined us for breakfast in the morning to enjoy her beloved son and grandson. Then we went to visit my parents and grandparents in the afternoon, where my dad grilled up some delicious steaks. All in all, it was a wonderful day and I was so pleased to be able to join in the fun this year. Go mommies!
In honor of Mother’s Day, I would like to present the top 10 pieces of advice I received that I would like to pass on to other new mommies. So, with no further ado:

1. Sleep when your baby sleeps. This is a common one, but it’s SO easy to disregard. I was always really tempted to do housework during naptime, but trust me: the dishes will wait. Your mind and body need sleep to function and care for your baby.
2. Babies rarely cry for no reason. The top 3 reasons are that they’re hungry, have a dirty diaper, or are otherwise hurt or uncomfortable. If a feeding, burping, and new diaper don’t help, and your baby doesn’t appear to be in pain be patient and call the doctor. Which leads to …
3. ASK FOR HELP! Whether it’s from your mom, your doc, or your boss. People are usually VERY willing to help a new mom, but nobody can read minds. As for the doctor, call as often as you need to. It’s better to be safe than sorry. And, after all, that’s why you’re paying them all that money.
4. Boob is (almost) always the answer. If you’re breastfeeding, you have 2 perfect baby calmers in your arsenal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Henry NOT calm down when presented with a nipple. I’ve read articles by moms around the world, and they all agree: a readily available breast equals a contented baby.
5. Your body WILL return to normal. Even after you get your pre-pregnancy jeans back on, there are adjustments to be made. It took me several months to figure out how to sleep with big, sometimes sore, constantly leaky boobs (sleep bra + hand towel, by the way). But eventually you’ll be you again. This is just one of those times when you have to roll with the punches and be patient.
6. It’s not forever. Even with the most pleasant baby, motherhood is NOT easy. But when you get stressed out and feel like you’d rather have a root canal than change one more diaper, just remember this: It’s not forever. Before you know it, your little one will have moved on to the next phase and you’ll have a whole new set of worries. J
7. You’re doing a great job! If you worry, plan, fret, stew, or feel concern for your baby (along with all the loving, rocking, feeding, singing, etc.), then you’re doing just fine and I hope someone tells you so every day.
8. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. This is true for you AND for baby. Of course you don’t ever want your munchkin hurt, but babies do fall. Don’t fuss too much (as long as s/he’s not serious injured!), and try to remember that babies learn by trial and error.
9. Trust yourself. Everyone will have words of wisdom for you, but it’s important to remember that this is your baby, and your instincts are usually pretty reliable. You know that little miracle better than anyone, after all, so listen to peoples’ advice, consider it, and then do what works best for you and your child.
10. This is the best job EVER! It’s very difficult, but I promise you it’s worth every moment of lost sleep when your baby falls asleep smiling in your arms, or reaches out for you, or gives you a big hug & kiss. So. Totally. Worth. It!