Like Capturing Sasquatch or The Loch Ness Monster

A while back I wrote about my desire to capture “The Poo Face”. The wonderful, hilarious expression of serious concentration that I just love to death. (You can read the original post here.) I think I finally got it.

It is very elusive, this “Poo Face”. Every time KC was “in the process” so to speak, I’d be nowhere near my camera. Or, if I did happen to have the camera, she would be facing the wrong way, walking around, she’d move her head down quickly, it would be a false alarm…whatever. Bottom line (pardon the pun) it was much more difficult than I thought it would be to get that amazing expression on film. Below is about as close as I’m ever going to come.

Does it really need a caption?

My Dad (KC’s Grandpa) likes to say, “Wherever there is talk of babies and toddlers, the conversation always turns to shit.” Or something very similar. He’s absolutely right. It’s kind of amazing how many different “poo-related” conversations I’ve had in the last year. With the doctor, my husband and/or my MIL regarding, size, color, consistency and frequency. It seems to be of the utmost importance to know where it all stands.

Last night I think I crossed over to the real world of Motherhood. If there was a right of passage that gave you your “Mom Wings” this has got to be it. I actually took a poo-poo diaper into the bathroom (for better light) and inspected it thoroughly. Not just by sight. I actually touched it. On purpose. Picked through it with my fingers to feel what the hell it was made of.

Oh, are you eating? Am I making you physically ill? Gosh, I’m so sorry. You should probably stop reading.

This poo was a color I don’t believe I’ve seen come out of KC before. Not even in early newborn days, when some very strange stuff appeared. It was dark green, almost black. And it looked like a combo of beans and balloon pieces. (Kind of scary because we’ve got some balloons hanging around from the Birthday party.) Upon picking some of it out and rinsing in the sink, I was relieved to see it was blueberries. Seems she swallowed some almost whole and what we had were the skins. It also explained the extreme, dark color.

So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Boogers, pee, puke and drool are nothing in comparison to this. If I can pick through somebody’s poop and not lose my lunch I have definitely earned my place in the club. Welcome to the “Parent Hood”. When do I get my membership card?

Who Needs Expensive Toys?

I’m drinking a glass of red wine (What? I know it’s Wednesday. Be quiet.) and I’m uploading the latest batch of ten-gazillion photos to my Kodak Gallery. I am seeing a theme. KC loves to play with pretty much anything. So I give you some of the good ones to make you smile.

Who needs expensive toys when you have stuff like this…

Balloons.

Piiiiigs iiiiiiin spaaaaaaaace!

Weeds and sticks.

You'll put your eye out!

A drawer full of nipples and bottles that Mommy tirelessly cleans up again and again, so I can pull it all out. Again and again.

...243...244... Be quiet, mom! Damn. 1...2...3...

A very patient cat. Patient, because I am currently the only one who pays him any attention.

No, really. You've got something right there.

Ok, one expensive toy. A cool new car from Daddy.

Babies only. All others park on the street.

Hey! Two in one day. I guess my previous post doesn’t apply to every day. Cheers!

Momentum

When I started this blog it was so fun and exciting I wanted to post everyday. Sometimes I even got the urge twice a day, but I stopped myself. No need to go crazy. Now my momentum is slowing, and I am starting to worry that I will eventually treat this online diary like I used to treat my written one. Ok, not exactly like the written one. A blog wouldn’t make a good paperweight, but you get my drift.

Life keeps moving, and shiny, new toys become ordinary. I will do my best to keep it up. The payoff down the line will be well worth it. Hell, the comments and compliments I get from you, my dear readers, are worth it. Yes, all 4 or 5 of you. Those who I know come regularly. I love you, man. Sniff.

Yes, life happens and there is just too much “food on the plate”, too many “hats” that want to be worn. I did something I may live to regret. I picked up more freelance design again. I only say “regret” because I quit doing this kind of extra work due to the fact that all the evening/weekend “homework” was taking away from my time with KC. And stressing me out some days too. I quit for, like, a whole 3 months. Yeah, I am not as strong as I figured myself to be on that front. Work = money and money = good. Yum.

Another good thing, now I don’t have as many clients as I did. Taking back one (who also happens to be a good friend) should be much easier this time around. Her company misses me and my work. (Quite flattering, actually!)  Plus, they want to pay me more. Yippee! I was cheap. Too cheap for what I have to offer. Anyone with half a brain knew that, including me. I just never had the balls to raise my rates to what they should be. As a result, the work didn’t quite pay off like it could have.

I am hopeful it will work out for everyone in the end. Me, my client, even KC. More cute outfits and toys, right?? Ok, bills. Damn. So, there’s one more thing that will probably keep me from blogging every day. I promise I’ll try to keep it fairly regular though.

Who are you, and what have you done with my free time?

I read a lot of blogs. In my reading this weekend, I came across mention of a virtual baby shower for two bloggers whom I happen to read (Kristen of Motherhood Uncensored and Rebecca of Girl’s Gone Child!). Click the cute baby over there to find out more about it. Apparently anyone can participate so I figured, “Heck, why not!” Not only is this an opportunity to recognize the kind of blog sites that inspired me to start one of my own, it’s also a chance to add a memory to this (very new) online journal of mine. And, ok I admit it, the idea of maybe getting a few new people to “check me out” was sort of a factor too. I have delusions of grandeur. Sue me. Congrats, ladies, on your soon-to-arrive bundles of joy! And congrats to any other expecting/new moms who find this post!

*****

I was always very apprehensive about having a baby. I had NO illusions about how hard it might be. I coveted my independence and just KNEW free time would be a thing of the past in large part. I was right. But, the funny thing is, now that I’m here, one year later, I don’t mind at all. It seems like the most natural thing in the world to be KC’s mom. I love it. I admit that I miss the mass amounts of leisure time I used to take for granted, but I still get some moments for myself. And I appreciate them. A lot.

My clearest memory about bringing KC home was that weird feeling of “What the hell do we do now?”. My husband and I sitting in the living room, exhausted from two nights of no sleep in a hospital room (not to mention childbirth), realizing the true scope of what we were embarking on. It was wonderful, it was exciting and it was damn scary. I desperately missed the nurses who kept checking on us.

KC was (still is) a really good baby. But even good babies are tough. I just remember sitting near my bed with her in my arms, looking at my big soft pillow and the clock that showed 1 am…3 am…5 am…wishing so hard that I could just SLEEEEP. Sleep like I used to know before I got pregnant. No interruptions, no little cries calling me to duty.

We spent many nights with her in a bassinet nearby. I think Daddy was able to doze off sometimes, but I was hardly able to sleep at all because of my intense need to watch her and check on her all the time.

“Is she breathing? Is she ok?”

It was a bit of a relief when we felt confident enough to put her in the crib, in her own room, and rely on the monitor to tell us if she was awake.

But, most babies sleep on and off all day long, so of course they are going to wake up at crazy hours. Wouldn’t you? For me, those days in the first month or so were really hard because of that factor. But, they were really awesome for many other reasons. My husband and I would look at her, and then at each other, and just be amazed that we made this little person. Watching her grow and change so much over the past year has been incredible. I’m not sure how ready I am to give her a little brother or sister just yet, but perhaps someday. I think Ted and I are still getting over the shock of having one.

I imagine it’s both easier and harder to take care of a new baby when you’ve got more than one child. You learned so much in round one. Surely that must make it a little easier, right? Or, maybe not, since you probably have a toddler (or two, or three) to chase around as well. But, that freaked out feeling that screams: OH GOD, I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA WHAT I’M DOING! and SHE’S SO LITTLE ARE YOU SURE I WON’T BREAK HER IF I HOLD HER THIS WAY? Surely, that must be gone by child #2. I guess someday I might find out.

A weird confession: Part of me wants to have a bunch more just to see what they come out like! Seriously. KC is so damn cute that I often think how fun it would be to see what other kind of cuteness we can create. I’m not sure how many kids I will have just yet. Two probably. Three…mmmmm…maybe. Not likely though. I tip my hat to those who do it and who do it well. You ladies (and gents! Dads shouldn’t be forgotten here.) are amazing. Here’s to you!

KC's First Day at Home

T.G.I.F.

Not much going on here. Just the same ol’ shit. Workin’, workin’, and workin’ some more. For me it’s Friday and I get to go home and rest for two days. (Well, as much rest as you can get as the Mother of a one year old.) Ted’s in full “crappy work season” swing with his job. It means late nights and weekends a lot of the time. Good money, but very, VERY cranky tired Husband/Daddy. I wanted to post something silly today that I think a lot of us can relate to. This is the feeling at our house right now…

Create your own funny pic. Click the image.

Here’s hoping you got a vacation this summer, are on one now, taking one soon, or at least get the weekend off! Cheers.

True Art Should Not Be Eaten Anyway

You’ve heard it said that a true artist suffers for her work. This is true. I spent most of Sunday morning baking, frosting and decorating a cake and 12 cupcakes for KC’s first Birthday party. It meant a lot to me to bake the cake myself rather than just buying one. However, I knew, I JUST KNEW that it wasn’t going to work out in the end. The chances of my doing something to ruin it were so good. Here’s a photo:

Mommy's Pretty Cake

Pretty nice, right? A bit unconventional, but it’s a “Mom Original” and I was very proud. Notice the very dark icing “zig zag” around the edge? And the very orange gel in the sun? According to the box, those were supposed to be somewhat pastel shades of pink and green. It wasn’t until I noticed how darkly those colors had stained my fingers that it hit me. This is not normal icing. So I looked at the box again and guess what? I was right. It was DYE. Food coloring dye meant to color much larger quantities of icing. NOT, in fact, meant to be squeezed “straight up” on the cake as I had done.

Lucky for me this all came to light just before noon, and since the party started at 2 we had time to get a new cake. Dad went to the Giant and got a large sheet cake that was blank except for a very colorful border. We proceeded to decorate it ourselves like this:

Tacky Store-Bought Cake

Apparently my daughter’s party theme was “Scary Acid Flashback”. Ok, it’s not that bad, but it’s not great either. We were in a rush. Don’t laugh. At least this time the icing was a bit more diluted. I know it doesn’t really look diluted, but it is. I swear.

Seriously though, can you imagine? If I hadn’t noticed the error on the other cake until I started serving it? People would have gone to work today with green and red mouths. KC would’ve had spots like permanent marker all over her face and hands for a week! Ugh. Not cool. Although it could have made for some funny photos.

Cake issues aside, the party was a big success. KC was a doll. She never cried once and seemed to truly enjoy all the attention. She didn’t disappoint with the cake either. She ate some and smeared the rest. I’ve inserted a video of it below. It’s a bit long, so apologies in advance. I even got to bust out a little dress I bought months ago and wasn’t sure she would ever wear. It fit perfectly and looks lovely in the photos! Here’s a shot of the Birthday Girl.

Birthday Girl

Here’s that video …enjoy.

PS: I removed all the “bad” icing off the top of that first cake and Ted and I ate some tonight. Why let it all go to waste? Even without the pretty part, it’s a damn good cake!

PPS: It’s now Tuesday morning and upon re-reading this post I had a revelation. I should have just scraped off the icing and re-decorated it for the party. Good grief. I guess that’s the problem with being stressed out and rushed. You just don’t see the simple solution staring you in the face. Oh, well. The 2nd Birthday cake will surely be a success.

One Year Old Today

Funny story about the cake. I’ll tell you about it later with some pictures.
For now, a letter to my daughter…

Even before we met, I knew you.
I felt you growing for 9 months.
Every kick, every turn, every hiccup.

The day you were born, the world smiled.
Daddy was proud, handing out cigars.
I was happy and very tired.
Your beauty gave me strength.
Grandpas smiled and Grandmas cried.
A little cousin gained a new playmate.

Yes, even before we met, I knew you.
Now the bond is closer than before.
The intimate dance between you and I.
A closeness only mother and child know.
I cherish each moment, each nuzzle, each kiss.
Your tiny hands grasp, and reach, and tickle.
Your sweet breath warms as you sleep in my arms.

As time passes you will get big and then bigger still.
Mature and beautiful, independent and free.
One day those little kisses and cuddles will be less.
A girl grows up and doesn’t need it as much.
I will miss it, I’m sure, but it’s the way of the world.
Be happy, my baby. Be happy and be loved.

Yes, even before we met, I knew you.
One year later, I know you all the better.
The girl and the woman you will become,
are yet strangers, but know this…
I am always here to love and support.
I cannot wait to meet you.

Don’t Forget

For just a little while I did forget that it is the 11th so I just had to write a 2nd post. Today is the 7th anniversary of one of the saddest and scariest days I can remember in my lifetime. I feel very blessed that I did not lose anyone that day, but I will say a prayer for those who did. Those who cannot forget. Even if they want to.

What reminded me today? I popped over to a friend’s blog to see what she was up to and found a really beautiful post about her experience that day and remembering those who were lost. You can read it here.

She and I have a lot in common in our experience. I too was working in the DC/Virginia area. We are very close to the Pentagon at my office. I could actually see the smoke rising and witnessed a lot of people walking South on route 1 to get further from the scene. It was extremely surreal. Ted and I were dating at the time, but not quite as serious as we’d become later. Still, I worried for him. His job sometimes took him into DC. He wasn’t there that day. My brother, Scott, was still with us. He was in Maryland at the time. Also safe. My parents had long since moved to Delaware so they too, were out of harm’s way. We were all lucky. As scary as it was for me to witness it on TV and outside my office window, I cannot imagine being family or friend to someone who worked in the Pentagon or the World Trade Center; to anyone taking a flight that morning; or to any of the brave people who went in fearlessly to try and rescue them.

Take a moment to give thanks to those you have in your life today. Take a moment to appreciate the people whose jobs put them in harm’s way to protect us. Take a moment to reflect on those lost and the people still feeling that loss.

Let Them Eat [Store-Bought] Cake

I have mentioned that I am gearing up for KC’s Birthday on Sunday. I’ve already ordered two party platters. I make no secret of being the ANTI-Domestic Goddess. I hate to cook. I don’t know why. I just do. It seems like just as much of a chore as cleaning up after. More so. The only kind of cooking that I enjoy even a little is baking. I always loved to help my Mom lick the bowl make cakes, or help my Aunt Judy eat gobs of dough make cookies. So why, WHY am I considering buying a stupid, ordinary sheet cake from Giant Food?? Why?

I will tell you why. Because, I’m not F***ing Betty Crocker, that’s why. Oh, and then there is the fact that I work every day, AND Ted is working on Saturday, AND I will be watching Kelly, AND shopping for whatever else we need, AND cleaning the house. (Another activity I hate, by the way, so that means it’s all the worse when I do finally get to it.) Ok, now I’m whining. Ted will actually help me clean when he’s home on Sunday morning, but you get the point.

Despite all this, I feel very torn between buying the sheet cake and buying boxed mix and canned frosting and going for it. It’s not that hard. It’s not like I’m going to make it from scratch. My Mom was no Domestic Goddess either. She’ll be the first to admit it. But, she always made us special cakes. ALWAYS. Ok, maybe when we got older she started leaning on Sarah Lee a bit more, but that’s ok. It’s different with adult kids. We don’t need cakes shaped like dolls in big dresses. (She actually did that once.)

I really want to make this cake for KC special. Not because she will notice, but because it’s her 1st Birthday. And, what are 1st Birthdays all about? Cake! Cake all over the hands and face, and pictures of it all to laugh at later. I will think on it some more. Maybe I will try. Maybe I will wuss out in the end. My big fear is that I will burn and mangle the cake, and at noon on Sunday have to run to the Giant anyway. We shall see.

Sidebar:
The phrase “F***ing Betty Crocker” has a back-story and is a big inside joke in our house. Ted likes to cook and bake sometimes. It’s actually really nice. We share the cooking responsibility. When we were newly married he mentioned wanting to bake a pie or something like that for a party, or holiday gathering. I can’t really remember exactly. We were in the grocery store when he mentioned it. I looked at him and said, “What are you F***ing Betty Crocker?” I was joking, of course, but he’s never let me live it down.

The truth is, I love that he has that semi-girly side. He makes the most amazing chocolate chip cookies flavored with almond extract. Who knew? He uses no recipe to decide what flavors to add. He’s not afraid to try things and it usually pays off. His Mom is kind of a Domestic Diva. Maybe KC has some of those genes.

Baby’s Got A New Pair of Shoes

Just thought it would be neat to capture KC’s very first “real” pair.
Already a bit worn after just one day…

Taken by Mom on 9/8/08