And Now, a Little Levity

The last few weeks have been intense. This made ME laugh, so hopefully it'll do the same for you even if you've seen it before ... I took the liberty to bold my personal faves.

WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?

BARACK OBAMA : The chicken crossed the road because it was time for change ! The chicken wanted change ! And he wanted to share the eggs with those that have no eggs of their own... eggs for everyone!! The rich people will pay for them.... we will spread them.

JOHN MC CAIN: My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.

SARAH PALIN : Where's my gun?

JOE BIDEN : [silence]

HILLARY CLINTON : When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure right from Day One that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about me.

GEORGE W. BUSH : We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.

COLIN POWELL : Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road.

BILL CLINTON : I did not cross the road with that chicken. What is your definition of chicken?

AL GORE: I invented the chicken.

JOHN KERRY : Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.

AL SHARPTON : Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens.

DR. PHIL : The problem we have here is that this chicken won 't realize that he must first deal with the problem on this side of the road before it goes after the problem on the other side of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his current problems before adding new problems.

OPRAH: Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.

ANDERSON COOPER, CNN: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.

NANCY GRACE : That chicken crossed the road because he's guilty ! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks .

PAT BUCHANAN : To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

MARTHA STEWART : No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.

DR SEUSS : Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY : To die in the rain, alone.

GRANDPA: In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.

BARBARA WALTERS : Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.

ARISTOTLE : It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.

BILL GATES : I have just released eChicken2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken2008. This new platform is much more stable and will never reboot.

ALBERT EINSTEIN : Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?

COLONEL SANDERS : Did I miss one?

YESSSS!

I am thrilled, I am proud, I am excited.

I am also nervous and not convinced the world's now perfect. There is a tremendous if not unmanagable need for Obama (would have been the same for McCain) to perform, lead, at such a high level, in such a time of unrest, concerns, fears and yes, I guess, crisis, in our country.

I believe he is up for the task, truly. But I know he can't "fix it all." And who can imagine in today's world of terrorism and economic turbalence, how the next 4 months, much less 4 years, will really unfold? What his administration will have to respond to? How they will really juggle all those balls at once, as he famously told McCain during the campaign suspension? How he can really live up to all those campaign promises? (Side note to Pres Elect: At least focus on healthcare and education, and I'll let ya off the hook on taxes and clean energy for a while...)

But regardless. Regardless. Something amazing ... truly, amazing and historic as historic GETS ... has occurred. Juan Williams said on FOX, this isn't just FOR the history books, it might be the COVER of the history books. He may be right. (By the way, his comments after the announcement were very emotional, sincere and touching. Glad I've braved FOX lately to catch them.)

Like many, it brought tears to my eyes. It made me truly joyous and optimistic. And, most powerfully, it previewed how different the world will look when my kids can vote. What will and won't be "normal" for them is so vastly different than what our parents and even we have grown up with, I am hoping they almost will not believe us when we tell them about it.

We've crossed a line that I believe we will never go back over. (Next up: the ladies!!!) It wasn't the reason for my vote. But it is the reason my vote meant so much. And the reason for which I was so proud to have my 10 week old daughter with me, in her Daddy's arms, as we was able to vote for someone we both feel very good about. Who also is black.

Side note: I was also very proud that I brought her home from the hospital on the day the second woman in history was nominated for VP. No matter how violently I did not support her as a candidate, I respect that Sarah Palin too will go down in history for this election - and who knows what others to come. And, that she stepped boldly up to the plate, took the hits, and worked her ass off to take another step forward on behalf of not just women but our country.

Congratulations, President Obama. God bless you and keep you and yours safe. And please do the kick ass job that I think you will.

My Other Boys

Because we mostly spend more time with our St. Louis friends, and our closest family is O'Fallon (and we don't even see them much - the rest are Warrensburg, MO, Chi town, Colorado and Arkansas), I don't post as many photos of them as I should.

But these are my OTHER boys - Connor, 7, and Logan, newly 9, my "little brother" Bryan's boys. They live in Warrensburg and my parents, who live there too, took this during what I hear was a lovely fall walk.

These kids are a preview of what I expect my still soft skinned, chubby and semi-controllable toddler boy will become someday: wild, loud, skinny/muscled, with skinned knees...but also super smart, funny, kind hearted, and just plain fun to be around.

Can't wait to see them at Thanksgiving and watch Matthew follow them around like Gods.

What a Beautiful Sight

Obama speaking in St. Louis on Saturday.

Wish we could have gone but combination of my eyesight and back row and two kids probably equals, CNN viewing was better ...

Fall Fun, Take 1

We hit Rombach's pumpkin patch this weekend with all the girls ...

From 2008 October

Kim, Amelia, Erin, Bridget, Rachel and moi.

All the guys ...

From 2008 October

Mark, with no kid (HAHAHA), Tim, Shane, Mike and Matthew

And all the yellow school buses.

From 2008 October

Defying gravity are Rachel, Shane, Amelia, Bridget and Matthew

Nice photo shopping, EEJ. It seriously does look like our children are prodigies able to sit/stand by themselves and even drive the bus. Even Rachel looks like she can hold her head up, hooray!

Doesn't it look like we had fun?

From 2008 October

Actually, we did. A ton.

Sure, these outings are now very different than they used to be. They are no longer beer soaked, smoking and darts and Golden Tee 3 a.m. nightmares. Instead, we're doing bottle and spit up and tantrum and sticky hand laden afternoon kidfests. But I have to say, having these five kids hang out is fantastic. Loving every minute of this next step of our lives.

And of course this post wouldn't be complete without a pumpkin pic.

From 2008 October

(Thanks EEJ. That was a LOT easier than uploading and digging through my own!)

Possibilities

Sunday will be Mike's and my seventh anniversary. SEVEN!!! We'll celebrate the occassion by taking two probably grumpy babies to my work picnic and carting them around in crowds and heat.

Ha ha, just kidding. Well, we WILL do that. But first we'll celebrate for real. Because Libby is a saint on earth, she agreed to babysit Saturday night so we could go out. WITHOUT KIDS. WITHOUT PREGNANT BELLY. And, so help me, WITHOUT GUILT.

Erin and Tim had done this for us just before Rachel was born, and that was great. But there's one thing this date night will have that was missing before. Just one little detail...ALCOHOL.

So, internet friends, what should we DOOOO??

Because we don't go out and because if we do it involves the worlds "sports" and "bar", I don't know where we should eat or what cute little place we should go for drinks after?

Or, if we go the more high brow route, what good movies are out now? You know, that you would go see, if you could, if you weren't at home caring for one or two babies (my readership is as housebound as I am, I fear).

Or if you don't have comments, at least vote in my poll. Need all the help I can get after seven years.

Here We Got Again

I am excited for tonight's third election 2008 debate, although I don't know why. I've decided when any of these 4 open their mouths, it means hours of work for me to fact check any damn thing they say.

On a REALLY GOOD day I might spend one. And that's ONLY because I'm on maternity leave and have access to my laptop every few hours when I'm stuck on the couch for an hour feeding baby Rachel. During my "normal" life, if I spent an hour or two a week tackling this stuff, it's a good week.

So here's why this post is labeled "annoying": Why can't politicians not vacillate between talking in empty hyperbole, and then borderline (or in some cases flat out) lying? Can't they talk straight, in specifics, without bending the truth?

The American people just don't have time for this. People are busy raising the kids that the healthcare debate's out, and working the jobs that the economic debate's about. It sucks that we can't just tune in and listen and know who our preferred candidates based on our meshing with their politics.

Not who's whipped up the most inspirational speech or worse, the biggest tall tales.

And everyone, one last request. Please let's drop the affected accents when you're talking to us "regular folks." Obama's got his and I know for damn sure Palin's got hers. Maybe Biden should debate McCain because at least I could focus on their words not whether they're dropping their g's.

P.S. Okay NOW I'm Stalling

But you have to watch this oldie but goodie from the Daily Show (thanks Kate!).

The spirit of American civil disobedience at its best. Or at its most pot-smoking-ist.

Yes I AM Super Busy Over Here

Which is why I just spent 20 minutes on and off taking this cool memory test. I did pretty well and now feel smart for the day. So it WAS productive and DEFINITELY not a stall tactic as I contemplate how to avoid putting away laundry, feed infant, shower ...

Mood Swings

This pretty much sums up life lately. One minute even our trains can't make us happy.


The next minute, we're loving life.


And by "we" I mean Matthew and me. Well, and baby Rachel.

I'm pretty sure Mike and the dogs are holding their own providing meals and sleep keep occurring in some way shape or form.

p.s. To prove I haven't off'd either kid or myself yet, check out our latest photos. And yes, there ARE way too many, so don't feel guilty about clicking past the six exact same shots of her starting off into space.

John McCain is a Major Buzzkill

To me, it's a weird, uber political and kinda weenie move for McCain to talk about cancelling the presidential debate Friday.

But mainly, I'm just disappointed. Because I have been looking forward to this for weeks, pretty much ever since Rachel came home and I've been watching more CNN than I thought humanly possible.

I was all excited for a big Friday night complete with ordering Domino's pizza and ranting aloud at the TV. But mainly with having 2-3 glasses of wine and feeling like a normal adult person enjoying some alcohol and feeling pleasantly, err, "relaxed" for one of the first times in ten months.

And now he has threatened that. C'mon, JM...even if I forget Palin and your positions...I can't forgive you for killing my potential buzz!

Palin Post

I am dying to capture some of my thoughts around this VP choice. But in my post-partum emotional and sleep deprived roller coaster, I'm not sure I've got it all clearly outlined and buttoned up enough to express yet.

For now I will just say that she needs to stop the finger pointing. I don't mean the Obama criticism - go for it. It'll keep flinging back and forth.

I mean, the literal finger pointing and air stab gesticulating - when she talks. SO annoying.

She also must be a robot/alien combo. Which honestly is perhaps a reason TO vote for her? Because I cannot imagine how one can physically return one's self to work 3 days after birth. I could barely physically return myself from the couch to the bed. Or I should say, I could, but not without tears, which I assume wasn't part of her first day back.

As for her record and qualifications, I am not nearly up to speed enough yet to really comment. But I do wish she'd stop repeatedly reminding me how she used to be "just a hockey mom from Alaska." Not really the "take over as head of state in a pinch" quality I'm looking for. Please, GOP campaign peeps - more about her time as governor, and less about hockey and moose wrestling.

Bye Bye, Olympics, We Hardly Knew Ye...

So last night I'm ironing and thinking, okay, I can have the closing ceremonies on in the background. But NO, that was not enough. I quickly realized the giant human flame tower, the 8,748,994 costumed dancers and, yes, the many MANY flying people they whipped out for the closing, required much more of my attention than I could split with ironing.

I hate to think what it cost and how many people that could feed or clothe or do something else more productive with. But G.D., China had some STYLE. They were preparing that for nine months. THAT IS HOW LONG IT TAKES TO COOK A HUMAN! Their ceremony was probably more refined/elegant, though, I betcha. No offense, kiddo.

I also can't believe it's over. Kind of relieved - last few days of track, diving, BMX didn't have the same hold over me as swimming and gymnastics and volleyball. But it was comforting knowing that it was always on, and since it is so limited and special, well, it was just kind of this "thing" going in our household at all times for the last two weeks, probably like everyone else.

It is also very mentally tied in my mind to the arrival of this kiddo. So now that it's over, I SUPPOSE SOMEONE WILL TAKE THE HINT and come on out.

Unless, God help me, I hope she's not timing her delivery to the wrap of the Dem convention.

One of My Faves

There are SO many mommy bloggers out there, but somehow Alexa of Flotsam has captured me lately and more than most.

First, she is hilar. WISH I could write like this. Second, she is honest. But third, it's not just that she's honest, it's that she just nails it.

Warning, this one's kind of sad, part of a string of posts that are VERY sad, reflecting on the loss of her second twin before birth. But it's also captures WHY mommy blogs matter and WHY we should all feel free to post what the hell we damn please so say:

I think sometimes we try too hard to fit our lives into the shapes of the
stories we know. I doubt we’ll ever really stop doing that, so I believe the
best we can do is to make sure there are as many stories out there as
possible. The women who have written honestly about motherhood—the
good and the bad—helped me through moments of my pregnancy when I wonderd if I’d be too anxious and overwhelmed to be a good mother. Whatever I felt, I knew that it would be ok, that others had felt it too, and had sent their reassuring lighthouse beams out into the murky waters for me. After I brought Simone home, I almost felt guilty posting about how much I adored motherhood (this is VERY ADVANCED GUILT—don’t try it at home), because I didn’t want someone who enjoyed it less to feel bad. Obviously, I was missing the point. In elementary school we had a program called U R UNIQUE, a sort of cork-board precursor to a blog. Each week a new classmate would festoon the appointed corner of the room with artifacts of herself: pictures, favorite toys, trophies. They would give a presentation of everything Them, and the display would remain up for the rest of us to look at, to see all the little ways we were the same
and different.I like French fries dipped in blue cheese dressing. My house? Is
FILTHY. Having a baby was the best thing that ever happened to my sex life. I’m
a morning person. I wish I didn’t wish I were thinner. I drink my coffee black.
My daughter was a twin. I’m sad about her brother sometimes, but not as much as
you’d think. Right now, I am happier than I have ever been.

I just love that I can sit here on an early morning before anyone's up (can't sleep - late preggo mom stuff - that I'm sure 100 other people are blogging about now). And drink my coffee and read awesome stuff connects me to other women this smart.

THIS is why Dooce was so right on the Today show, and why Kathy Lee needs to learn how to use a &$^%'ing computer.

What NOT to See

Stepbrothers. It's as dumb as you'd think but worse.

Even if you have a babysitter and you have planned on seeing a movie forever, and Dark Knight it what you really want to see, but it's not remotely at any sort of time that works. But you really want to see a movie, out , with adults, and popcorn and sodas and NO Steve from Blues Clues. And your heart is just SET on it.

And Stepbrothers is there, like a beacon, starting 10 minutes after you get to the theater.

Even then. Just. Don't. See it.

Hot Topics in the Muldrow Household This Week

Bernie Mac passed away. We really liked him. We got into his Bernie Mac show reruns for a while. Did you ever watch them? "America, I tell you ..." this is a loss, and he was only 50, geez.

The Olympics. I love that they're on now ... if baby girl hurries up, they officially will mark her birth, but either way, I'll connect the two. Also, clearly Mike and I both love flopping down to watch TV after kiddo #1 goes to bed, but usually it's a fight on choices or sadly, we may retire to separate areas. Suddenly we're not only -

OKAY PHELPS JUST GOT HIS WORLD RECORD AND THE GREATEST OLYMPIC RECORD OF ALL TIME. HOLY CRAP!!!

Ok, back to it ... now we automatically agree on what to watch - volleyball, gymnastics, swimming, whatever! I have to say I'm loving it all - and God knows this is not an athlete typing. I just find it really inspirational and just, cool. I scheduled my night around women's gymnastic finals. I am teaching Matthew the difference between Kerry Walsh and Misty May. We are passing out in bed at night to medal ceremonies, and waking up to all this great, positive coverage on the Today show (such a nice change from war coverage and gas hike stories, isn't it?). What a positive, cool thing we get to witness every four years. (Yes, definitely biased for Summer over Winter games, sorry ski bums.)

The baby flipped! Guess my sad little homegrown baby flipping stretches worked. Either that or she really is a good baby after all. I was shocked when two seconds into the ultrasound, the tech said, "Okay, the head is ... DOWN." Well I'll be. I don't think my womanly senses are honed because I had no clue when she flipped, either way. Are there people that know this? Perhaps you also know how to do your hair and pluck your eyebrows properly. I must have missed a few How to Be a Lady classes along the way.

A lovely white vinyl fence now exists around our yard. Dogs are contained, toddler contained, yard looks good, neighbors happy with fencelines, all is well on West Old Watson. Except for my checking account after I write yet another giganto check associated with our move/this house. But if this ends our constant dog walking/dog in the yard monitoring, it is worth like 20 gabillion dollars more than we're paying. The idea of opening the door and letting dogs out to run around aimlessly for an HOUR if I want ... oh, I am just giddy at the thought.

And none too soon ... because our final family topic is our induction date, August 26th at midnight, we jumpstart the process to bring about the newest Muldrow. I'm certainly hoping it could happen spontaneously sooner, but if not, I am totally fine. Because now, there's an end in sight, and if it goes as smoothly as Matthew's did (KNOCKKKKK ON WOOD) it shouldn't be too bad going through an induction again.

Basically, we're doing it because I'm dying to be done and my doc is happy to let me, once I cross 39 weeks and since she's so healthy and it's my second and blah blah. I know some people aren't into induction, but I'm loving this plan. It gives us two weeks to mentally prepare, get in all our "last time" events with just us and Matthew, take advantage of a KICK ASS babysitting offer from TPD and EEJ this Sat. night, wrap up work (for me) and start the school year (for Mike). Oh and choose the name ... though I think we already did; they certainly are returnable, but we DID purchase some initials to hang on her wall. OOOH THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING YOU, I know, I know.

Da Duh DUH

How many Law and Order reruns can one person watch while beached whaling it on the couch in late summer, late pregnancy?

Answer: A LOTTTTTTTTTTT.

To be clear, this is a step up from what my husband would select if allowed (he's not). Which on Tuesday nights, are all the new (and probably not long past this summer rerun season) Japanese game show related shows.

I suppose he considers them a cultural version of America's Funniest Home videos (his fave, YES, I know) given there's lots of falling down. I am not a huge physical comedy person myself, and could do without.

Though Matthew is pretty funny pointing out every 30 seconds, "He fewl down! He fewl down, Mama!" Yep, they all do, honey, it's in the contract.

I Thought I Grew Up When I Stopped Watching the Real World

But I realize I have not because I am still addicted to bad reality TV. As evidenced by the fact that I just got up, left the room where my husband's watching TV, so I could come into the bedroom to watch the second episode of the night of Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood.

It's odd how simple demographics can make you feel like this (crossing my two fingers together, ala we are tight) with B list celebs you have never met. They have a toddler son and are expecting (well, now have, as of June I guess) a new daughter just like us. Also they were moving in the middle of her third trimester.

Thought interspersed with discussions about Tori's jewelry sales on QVC and what color to choose for their real silk tailored curtains and how many millions they can afford for the new house...well, the rest of the discussions could be right out of house.

When you're pregnant no matter who you are or what hot sh*t life you lead, there's a lot of boring and leveling talk about contractions, doctor visits, eating too much, gaining too much weight, and, if you're pregnant with #2, how are you gonna manage it all. Former 90210 mogul daughters are no exception apparently and I find some odd comfort in that.

Though I do know, oh yes, that it's so wrong to watch it and especially to justify it and philosophize about it.

Why You Need a Flat Screen

Because even the scary awful shark show looks so cool I'm forced to watch it and learn stuff.

So far I've learned how to not buy a bathing suit with a pattern that tempts sharks to eat me.

On My Mind

I wanted to tell you guys something I've been thinking about a lot lately, that I've come to realize is actually really very important to me. I don't know if you'll agree or not, but I feel I have to share.

Here goes:

SUMMER TV BLOWS AND IF I SEE ONE MORE MADE UP "WATCH PEOPLE EAT KETCHUP THROUGH THEIR NOSE" REALITY SHOW OR THE SAME G.D. CSI WE'VE SHOWN YOU 8 TIMES OR ANOTHER UPDATE ON HEIDI AND SPENCER, I'M GOING TO SMASH MY FANCY NEW TV THAT I SWEAR TO GOD, HASN'T VIEWED ONE GOOD PROGRAM SINCE WE BOUGHT IT LAST MONTH.

I hope you are with me, but if you are not, well, we will just have to agree to disagree. I feel very strongly on this important matter to myself and my family. Thank you for listening.

And if it's a help to you and yours, my husband and I find comfort knowing that, with September and the blessed arrival of my daughter, the just as blessed arrival of new fall TV will shortly be upon us, praise be to NBC, Tina Fey and Steve Carrell.

I Rock and So Does Snapfish

So according to my scientific poll, you're all as delinquent as I am at actually printing photos on actual paper for actual frames or God forbid, actual albums. It's a virtual world and we are virtual girls. But allow me to inspire you: tonight I ordered real live photos - a disgusting 186 of them - from Jan. 1 through my last July download.

So NOW when my computer crashes or I spill coffee on it, I won't have to throw myself off the nearest bridge. Because I will have my child and family and friends captured on PAPER not just megabytes. At least, the last six months. We won't talk about the lion's share of Matthew's first two years of life, just right now.

First, let me point out that at $.o9 a photo, vs. $.19 a photo, Snapfish beats the pants of Shutterfly. EEJ, I know you already are a fan...

Second, let me note that I love Picasa enough to marry it. Was SO easy to run through hundreds of photos, tray the ones I liked, connect to Snapfish and one short Visa order later, have our last 6 months of existence be put in the mail within 3 to 5 business days.

Third, do I have any takers on how long I'll procrastinate to actually PUT them into an album? I say if I can do this pre-baby, I'm a hero. Realistically, if I do this within 2008, I could die happy.

Either way, that's hardly the point, people. I can at least take 2-3 and put them in frames. Because judging by what you see displayed around our house, Matthew is still a newborn and Mike and I are still appily engaged to be married.

Okay, to wrap it up with a bow on top ... in my photo search/queue/order process, I ran across some kiddo shots too adorable not to share:

Matthew and Bridget, Superbowl, acting like goofy little kids (not babies) for one of the first times that I noticed.

Matthew and Max, our frienda Steve and Renae's son, during their last visit to us in June. Acting like the sweet angels they always are. Uh huh.

And the entire Steve/Renae clan - Anna, Aidan and Max - on an earlier visit this spring, at their old favorite haunt (before they became Little Rockians), Kirkwood Park.
The utter boredom of meeting Baby Shane at the hospital forced both kids into the closet, apparently?

Oh come on, you kids don't know from fun. Just LOOK AT HIM!

Naturally, I finally post a newborn photo right about the time he's turning 1. Ok, two and a half months, but might as well be 1, this kiddo has already grown more than I care to think about. Stay small, little guy, stay small ... you break mommy's and aunties' hearts when you grow too fast.

Miss Amelia, that all goes for you too.

I have to say, Matthew appears a little more lively visiting you. Guess he just likes the pretty ladies, and who can blame him. Though I certainly did not take a close enough picture of this baby girl, and I will be rectifying that when I can. Trust me, she is gorgeous.

Grama Shout Out

I feel it's time I dipped my toe into the video posting pond. Especially since my kid and his sweet little voice are so g.d. cute I can hardly stand it. Documentation must commence.

Enjoy, gramas!

Guess What You Can Do for An Hour?

When you are two, apparently for an hour, you can happily and silently look through the science and learning toy catalog leftover by our prior house owners. Carefully, painstakingly, page by page, back and forth.

But then sometimes you do have questions and comments. "Car? Cars. CARRRR!!!" "Trains, mama? Trains!!! TRAINS! Tracks? Where tracks?" "What's that mama? And that? What's THAT?"

For an hour.

Then you look through it again for another 1/2 hour that qualifies as your bed time story. And you sure can charm the pants of your mama while you're doing it.

Well, That's Just GREAT (from BabyCenter.com email today)

Only 24 percent of U.S. companies offer some form of paid family leave, according to a 2004 poll by the Society for Human Resource Management.

And why WOULD the other 76 percent offer proper family leave? Really, why? Dumb women wanting time off to raise stupid babies. Can't they just shuffle off to the break room, birth the kid and jump back on their 1pm conference call? Where did the power moms of the 80s go?

This whole topic makes me ill.

Still Here

One of my loyal readers ordered me to update my blog tonight. I was going to cheat and post pictures - you know, of my son, Matthew? The one I used to talk incessantly about and have recently abandoned talking about all together? I have very sweet photos of him.

But Blogger's being a little biyatch and it's not working, so we'll have to try something else. Since I'm feeling a little guilt for not updating various Gamas on the goings on of their boy, here goes:

Some cute things he's done: Run and hug my legs when I got home, "Mama, mama!" with a huge smile. Order me and NOT daddy to push his stroller. When presented with option of eating or going to bed, get a grin, whispter, "Eat..." and begin fake eating his yogurt. Sing Rock a Bye Baby with me - word for word - for the last few nights in a row. Three times in a row, per night. Color all over his arm with markers. Play all weekend with his cousin Danny - giggling and chasing each other taking up 90% of that time. Hug and kiss the dog and say "Sorry" after the dog knocked him over tonight. Name his cabbage patch kid "Baby Shane" (nice ring, eh EEJ?) and insist on putting it to bed, in his crib, with his trains and his blankeys. Then climbing in to cuddle him.

Other stuff he does: Have a fit if we mention food to him when he's not interested in eating. Insist on riding his "motorcycle" when we come back from walks and woe be to us if we remind him 7:30 is bedtime not motorcycle time. Have a fit if we put on brown shoes and he wanted green shoes. Hoarding all cars/trains while visiting cousin Danny, cradling them to his chest and frequently punctuating the situation with "Mine! My trains, MINE!" Have a fit about once a week where he is inconsolable. Then just as suddenly wipe his eyes and say "Matthew's HAP-PEEE!" Right in the middle of my nervous breakdown.

Hopefully I can show you evidence soon that we've actually still got him running around here somewhere. I promise I didn't trade him in for the girl model.

The Never-Ending Dilemna

Most of you know I've struggled a lot with the working FT/working PT/not working "decision." In quotes because financially, it feels more like a path (full time work to pay bills and occassionally bust a move down to Florida for a week once a year) than a decision (driving a car that works, with gas in it/not driving a car that doesn't work, without gas in it. Health insurance covering doctor visits vs. self-diagnosis or delivering this baby at home ourselves. The little things.)

I have to say, it's gotten easier. Much. Having a little man vs. a tiny baby has made me much more comfortable with the balance. I can spend time at work, and still come home to someone who remembers me, knows I'll come home each night, knows I'll tuck him in and be here to get him up (most days, at least). Someone I have jokes with, who can even start to now tell me about his day.

In short, we've got a routine, an understanding. A kick ass nanny and a daddy who's home at 4 daily. And we're all used to it. He's growing, he's talking, he's smart, but most important, he's happy. This makes me happy and more confident in my "decision."

Okay, so I'm way paraphrasing what has been two years of personal growth and back and forth deliberation ... but basically, the point is, I got it, I'm good, finally.

Now with impending you-know-who on the way (don't want to hurt her feelings, but it's the aby-girl be in the elly-be), I'm of course wrassling with it all again. And let me be clear - nothing will change. Fear and doubt are rearing their ugly heads again, but I know I will continue working full time because that's our deal and we've got it going, and we need it, and blah blah. We both work, that's our family. We'll both keep working.

But set as I am, I continue to be fascinated by the dialogue - elevated to oh-so-many new levels through the blogosphere. Today I read this post from a stay at home mom about the "dirty secret" that it's great to be home. IS this a secret?

I certainly know it's not easy to stay at home. I know it's hard. But I also have never imagined it sucked either. I think it's a gift to raise your kids, to be there for everything for them. To plan your own day (okay around naptimes), keep your home, to run errands, to be the true hub of your family.

Sure, maybe stay at home moms would trade a bad day, or several weeks from an especially noxious part of toddlerhood. Certainly there's the drag parts of it. But working moms would also trade an especially long biz trip, or missing a doctor appt to have your husband or sitter go instead. There are definitely drag parts of that, too.

Who IS the one idiot working mom who ruined it for the rest of us and apparently at some point back in the 80s said, "I couldn't stay home and eat bon bons and be lazy and watch soaps all day, I'd go cuh-RAZY!" Because duh, that is clearly and absolutely not what any sane person would assume stay at home moms do. I don't know anyone who's a working mom, who says that shit and believes it.

Working moms I know all have sisters or friends who stay home and we learn from that, and so we know it's not about being bored, its more about being constantly busy. Crazy busy.

Isn't this obvious? Why do we ALWAYS feel the need to keep challenging, comparing and badgering each other? Working at a workplace has challenges. Working with kids at your home all day, ditto. Who the hell knows if they're even steven? One day or week or year might be better/worse at the one or other. Why do we keep doing this dance?

I know this is a way cliched topic ... the Mommy Wars and all ... but I can't believe that we cannot accept there are different options. Pros and cons to working FT, working PT, working out of your home for an employer or for yourself, or working at home raising your kids/taking care of your home.

And that, oh just perhaps, each of this situations might possibly fit one human better than another. And that MAYBE IT EVEN CHANGES AS YOU GET OLDER/HAVE MORE KIDS/MAKE MORE OR LESS MONEY/OTHER LIFE CHANGES OCCUR. That one size really truly does not fit all.

That is why I was pretty tickled reading how sane most (most) of the responses to her post were. Most talked about choices, and what's right for one might not be right for all. But yes, some were fairly obnoxious and judgmental - on both sides - and so I enjoyed even more the Sundry Mourning response to the whole thing. Because really, it's just not that simple. It's just really not.

And incidentally, I apologize if I have offended anyone by using "work" to refer to my situation which is working at an employer, outside my home. It's just for brevity. It is not remotely referring to the fact that any of the other situations are not LOTS AND LOTS OF WORK and in some cases, more hours a week than I put in.

And I am ONLY even making this annoying clarification because I was sort of, err, corrected by a neighbor we met tonight on this topic. Wet met him on a walk, he had kids, we had kid/belly ... started chatting, oh, when did you move in, welcome, when are you due, where did you move from ... I mentioned yep, it's been crazy with the move, a toddler, being pregnant and working full time ... he promptly got a look, I swear to you, he straightend up taller, and then he said, "Well my wife H. works full time too (jerks thumb back toward house) right here, being a 24/7 mom to these two kids. That is a FULL TIME JOB."

I could go a lot of places with that, but it's late and I don't want to belabor this further. So I'll just end this post here. Much like we ended our brief conversation shortly thereafter, funny ...

Mindless Fun, for a Cause

Tonight, I am relaxing. That is my new thing. Old thing = stressing. New thing = ree-laxxxx-ing.

So that's why I just spent about 10 - 15 minutes playing on this site, which will supposedly donate food (grains of rice to be specific) for each vocabulary word you get right. Yep, that's right, that's what I said.

Odd combo? Yes. Addictive? Oh yeah. Just try and stop testing yourself.

Highs and Lows

That's what life's like these days.

High - I am in my third trimester! The arrival of our baby is in sight.

Low - I suddenly feel like s**t a lot of the time. Swelling has set in. Contractions happen when I bend over or lift anything. I am a hormonal crazy lady about 60 percent of the time. CRAZY. My husband might suggest that estimate is a bit low.

High - We have unboxed 80 to 90 percent of our main floor. Some pictures are on walls. Lamps are setup, with bulbs. Kitchen is functional. Matthew seems relatively unfazed. Dog 1 and 2 finally settling in.

Low - Realizing our dogs aren't the problem. That would be the neighbor's dog who was inexplicably left outside all Saturday night. Barking at 12, 1, 2 and 4 a.m., respectively.

Oh, and our CAT. Who is apparently protesting our move by relieving herself in various parts of my house that are not her litter box. Tonight it was my son's basket of baby blankies. Sweet.

High - Our buyers have stopped calling us every five minutes with some other f'ing complaint.
It's officially their house and not our problem.

Low - It's their house. Not ours.

High - Driving Saturday nighth to pick out of big flat screen LCD TV we promised ourselves for two years that we'd buy as a treat when we moved.

Low - Driving to Best Buy and Sam's, we took our old Murdoch exit. Matthew gets excited look on face and says, "Home! Mathew's house!" Oh God. He's seemed happy, but only because he thinks we were on a trip, and that now we are finally going home.

Mike and I just look at each other, and I want to cry. We force ourselves drive right on past our street, with Matthew craning his next to look down it, and us talking excitedly about "new house! new house!" But with our little hearts broken.

High - Having move behind us, which means time to blog, read blogs, surf for crib sets, think about my new baby, and just flipping relax on the couch. Mike having time to go hit golf balls. Our boy really honestly enjoying his "new house"...snuggled in his crib happily every night since we've lived here, including tonight. And me having the house/TV/computer to myself peacefully for a couple hours tonight. And not one box in my immediate eyesight.

We'll just end on that note, shall we?

WE ARE IN!

So I'm sick with a cold, and over tired from not sleeping from said cold. Surrounded by boxes, three non-working, non-cabled-up TVs and fast food wrappers.

Our living room decor is a fresh eclectic mix of "stuff the movers weren't sure where to put" - a painting by my professional artist sister in law Michelle, along side Matthew's first finger painting, next to a hideously stupid collage I made in junior high school ("no, honey, you CAN'T throw it away, I made it, it's coming with.).

My dogs are continually circling and panting, wondering when we're going home.

I've started having nostalgic flashbacks of my family room; my front stoop; my flowers; my kitchen and (sigh) new fridge we had to leave behind.

But here's why I'm still surprisingly happy: I am not longer under any deadline to wrap and stuff every piece of crap I own into one of 200 boxes to be ready for movers coming at a very certain point in time. If I choose to live in BoxWorld for the next 3 weeks, that is my choice. I am also no longer living in constant anticipation - or fear - of my realtor calling with something else I have to do/pay for to buy/sell my house.

I am a new home owner! Neighbors are dropping off banana cake. Mattew is referring to the yellow bedroom he's sleeping in right now as "My woom!" I am listening to my beautiful new full sized black and whisper quiet dishwasher washing - as opposed to my old and midget sized and banging gongs loud dishwasher.

This morning Mike and I both had room to get ready in our new bathroom with double vanities at the same time vs. the divorce inducing proceedings that usually occurred in negotiating morning routines in our old one horse number.

Tonight I bathed Matthew in his new bigger and as Libby pointed out, lower down (i.e., less back breaking) tub. Hey people, it's the little things.

Last - miracle of miracles, as I was sitting here debating do I try to get online tonight... I looked down and saw that lovely wireless icon already going. I am online! I am joyous! I am settling in.

P.S. One Thing That Doesn't Blow About Moving

When your mom drives 7 hours round trip in one day, JUST to help you clean, lend moral support with the movers because your husband had to work, because she just wanted to see your new house so badly, and mainly just because she's my mom, I'm her baby, always will be, despite being a 33 year old preggo mom myself.

Oh - AND she brings two giant boxes of Crispy Kremes with her.

Moms ... are amazing. They just love you THAT MUCH.

My House: Love it or Leave it? Both

Here I am spending the last night in my house of the last seven years. Tomorrow will be the first night in the house that will keep us for the next seven, or more. I still can't quite take it in despite sleeping on an air mattress surrounded by blank walls, no furniture, no dogs (kennel) and no husband (the poor guy is STILL out dealing with unloading the garage onto our trash heap and/or into our SUV).

I feel I should post pictures of our house filled with boxes and mess. Or maybe all empty and sad. But I have none - damn batteries died and if I even had any, they're packed on a truck a few miles away, waiting to be delivered to our new side of town. A sad yet appropriately disorganized ending to our last few months here. (Read: moving really blows.)

I can't really get into all I want to say about the move. Exciting for what it will bring - our new daughter to her new home in 3 months. Sad for what we're leaving - the house I brought my son home to, had countless nights with friends, had countless beers with friends (and apparently spills - hello, my poor carpeting that was hidden under the furniture until now!), and to kick it off, the house I moved into with a different last name, just 3 short months before we got married and began building the family of seven (yes I count the cat) we have now.

This afternoon I got emotional saying good-bye to a neighbor. Thinking I won't live on this street - my street - anymore tears me up. I am happy I'll remain part of it a bit, as we'll continue bringing Matthew to our neighbor's for our shared daycare several days a week. But also scared I'll be jealous its not me living here...

And yet I know that soon I'll probably grow to love my new neighborhood just as much. After 3 months off for maternity leave, hopefully I'll know the streets intimately from walking with TWO kidsm in beautiful fall weather. Once our basement's finished, we'll definitely feel we've gotten the step up house we've waited a long time for. Having the kids in rooms where they have space to have a crib AND turnaround without bumping into something will be neat. And, it'll just be fun to pick paint colors and rearrange furniture again - to start fresh.

But walking out of here tomorrow is gonna hurt like hell.

Not to Steal Your Thunder, Amelia...

...But there are three other babies that The Management has been remiss in welcoming.

First, miss Rosalie Pearl, born on Mommy's day to my Me a Mom? friend Cara. Beautiful Miss Rosalie arrived early also - 6 weeks, I believe - but as she did throughout her mommy's pregnancy, rallied to the occasion, showed up at 4 lbs and 11 oz and nearly 17 inches long (good girl) and is doing just great from what I hear.

She will no doubt be home giving Mommy, Daddy and big sister Lila a run for their money sooner than later. All of us are pulling for that sooner, knowing it's gotta be hard hard hard for Cara to be in two places at once these days - mentally and physically - with Rosalie spending time at the hospital for a while. Our love goes out to this sweet new girl, and we'll wish her home, soon. Welcome, Rosalie!

Second, miss Riley Jane, born last Friday to my college BFF Sarah and her husband Bryan. Again, an early riser - what is with you babies, I swear it's really comfy cozy in there comparatively - but miss Riley, much like her momma, could not be stopped. She arrived via a totally natural water birth as Sarah had planned and wished for for many months.

The downside was while Riley took in her new world - perfectly happy and healthy - Sarah had some post-partum recovery issues including what sounded (to her worried friend over email) like a scary hemorrhage. But everyone is doing well now, and the rest of us are oohing and aahing over the beautiful new arrival highlighted in her artistic daddy's birth announcement. Which of course I can't figure out how to post at 10:20 p.m. when my eyes are shutting but trust me peeps - she is a looker and will be a strong, smart, accomplished young lady just like her mommy. Welcome, Riley!

Last but not least, Cole William entered the world and his mom Sarah and dad Ryan's hearts on Sunday. He was 7.5 lbs and perfectly healthy, perfectly perfect. My ever-so-on-top-of-it friend Sarah emailed us about 1.5 hours later to give us the update. Sarah, even from labor and delivery, you are my super-mom hero (I knew there was a reason I hired ya back in the day :)

Mom has been waiting for Cole to get here safely for a long time, and we are so thrilled that he obliged. I simply can't wait to meet you, congratulate your parents, and your awesome big sis Evie. I am quite certain she's as excited as the rest of us that you're here - and I do know that girl love babies. Welcome, Cole!

It's hard for me to take in that five little miracles have arrived in just under one month. It's overwhelming actually (you can't see the tears swelling) and also still not registering that I'll be joining the ranks again in three months.

For now, I'll celebrate your little ones with you ... get your pictures up when I can ... and gladly babysit anyone of you darlins' at any time. Post-double-closing date, that is.

Welcome, Sweet Amelia

I met the newest member of my inner circle today ... beautiful miss Amelia Mabel, born earlier this morning to dear friends Mark and Kim.

This little girl was long anticipated - and yes, I KNEW SHE'D BE A GIRL AND I BEAT THE 50/50 ODDS OF BEING RIGHT AGAIN SO I AM CELEBRATING. Anyway, she must have known we were about over waiting for her because she make her appearance about 4 weeks early. But she's big and healthy and doing just great, thank you very much.

Mommy and Daddy weren't at all surprised - think this weekend she started tipping them off she might be coming. Her bluff really collapsed when Mommy's water broke last night. Then I kinda think it was, "Crap, is that what I think it is?" and once determined "YES MY WATER BROKEN", off to the hospital they went. Dilating, epiduraling and pushing ensued...Kim was a champ...and then our sweet new baby girl arrived

We could not be more excited for you guys. It's a blast, it's the best, and it's all just beginning.

Your precious girl is very lucky coming into such a loving family ... having two super fun cousins/built in BFFs in Shane and Bridget ... and having two pseudo cousins/built in BFFs over here in the Muldrow clan.

Welcome, Amelia!

It's About Damn Time

Don't know what all the fuss is about, or why it took until yesterday for CA to approve gay marriage. Two states down ... 48 to go.

Sadly, our Dem candidates don't see it the same way:

Same-sex marriage has been a highly contentious issue in presidential and Congressional elections, but it was not immediately clear what role the ruling would have this year. The Democratic and Republican candidates for president have all said they believe marriage should be between a man and a woman, but Republicans could use a surge in same-sex marriages in the most populous state to invigorate conservative voters.

Somehow, Ah-hold gets it right and they don't?

Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, a Republican, said in a statement that he respected the ruling and did not support a constitutional amendment to overturn it.

Don't mean to offend anyone who disagrees - that's your right. I just think its everyone's right to form a committed and legal union, with health and financial benefits for your family, for life. So today I'm pretty happy with those crazy liberal judges out West.

What a Difference a Day Makes

I made an executive decision tonight to skip the two fun events I had planned, send Libby home earlier than we'd arranged, and take MY SON WITH ME shopping. To let go of moving and work stress and obligation for a night and just get out in the car with my boy.

And it was great.

First we waited in line together listening to my awesome new Mother's Day mix CD from BFF (thanks, Lisa!!) Our patience in the drive through line (1/2 hour wait - what up, Steak and Shake?) was rewarded with an amazingly delicious Frisco Melt. We hadn't minded waiting - "chatted" the whole time and had moved onto singing when the food finally showed. Still, felt it was karma when turns out they forgot the fries, ran them back out and "so sorry, ma'am" supersized them AND tossed in double cheese sauce. Good night.

Then we drove to Babies R Us to pick up a shower gift. I got to park in the Stork Parking, then Matthew got a turn on the Barney train out front. Luckily he had the good sense to be terrified and that didn't last too long. Good night.

We quickly found a gift off the registry, then picked up gifts for two other new babies we know. Went on to peruse the Thomas and Cars themed baby beds - "Cars, FAST!"

Matthew had fun locating a few other necessities, too... I'd him out of the cart while I pondered gift wrap. He goes to look at some toys a few feet away. Next time I look over he is loading the SECOND of two mini-construction sets into our cart. Which is higher than his head. I can't imagine how we got it in there so fast.

I cracked up and seeing it was on clearance anyway, decided tonight was buy my sweet kid a toy night. A good night.

We drove home and sang some more. We detoured through Webster to visit the new house. When we parked at home, we looked for the moon (found it) and the stars (no such luck, cloudy). Then we talked to Daddy on the phone at his school's camp; we wrestled our way into dinosaur p.j.'s.; and we snuggled up with books, which we took turns reading as he knows lots of Dr. Seuss by heart now.

To cap it off, we stood in his room in the dark, him snuggled up on me... and I swear, helping me sing - like, along with me - his Rocky Baby song. I have never heard our two voices singing together before (he can sing?) and it was the highlight of my day, week...

To think last night I nearly chucked it all and tossed myself off my window ledge (empty threat, it's 3 ft. high) due to moving stress. Work deadlines. MIA husband (ok, he was working). And a terribly cranky two-year-old that was still awake (long story) at 10 p.m.

And tonight. I am feeling a blessed mother of one helluva sweet boy (snoring quietly in other room) and one precious little girl on the way (kicking me like crazy this whole time I'm writing). Ah, perspective - what a difference one good night makes.

Stuff I Don't Wanna Forget, v1

It's been a while since I've posted much about Matthew. You remember him, that short person that lives with Mike me and the dogs.

I haven't been doing well lately with the picture taking, the milestone recording, the documenting. But thought I'd steal one post and just list out the cutest stuff lately that I hope I don't forget.

When you ask a question and get "YeeeaaaSSSSS!" in the most excited squealy voice.
How he likes to line up cars - on shelves, along the couch, on window sills. It's his calling card, I can tell where he's been throughout the house.
Calling our dogs Murphy girwl and Bogey boy.
Wanting to buckle himself into his booster seat - "Matthew do it" - and being so careful to not pinch his hands, doing it in fact just like Mommy and Daddy do it.
Chasing the cat throughout the house, never giving up, and never getting that his screaming "COME HERE MAYA!!" is exactly what's sent her on her way.
How every time we use the phone, he yells out, "HI GRAMA!"
How he names one of our family as wanting to drive all the trucks in the truck book and all the trains in the train book. "Mama!" "Yes, Mama likes the giant excavator." "Dada!" "Yes, Dada likes the dump truck." And "us" includes him, me, Mike, Bogey, Murphy, Maya, and House.

How just today, he told me he had "echos" (excavators) on his p.j.'s (he did, they are construction themed) and how they dig and how they dig dirt. I have never had this conversation before with this kid.

God, I sure love this kid.

TomCruise.com

With my family asleep, and me for some reason piddling away online delaying it, I just spent 20 minutes on TomCruise.com.

And naturally, entirely predictably, I am now left thinking, well, shit. That's 20 minutes I can't get back.

So I'll just pay it forward by saving you the same amount of time to use for something else more useful, more meanginful, more pleasurable. Such as nosehair plucking, toenail trimming, earwax digging, or the like.

Lest you be tempted to visit, I can tell you the contents right here. Ready?
Stupid intro letter from Tom about how he loves to make movies
Stupid video clips of his movies strung together with stupid mission impossible theme song
Stupid stupid TigerBeatesque photo gallery
Link to oh-so-candid (yeah, right) Oprah interview
Complete lack of a point whatsoever

Just don't, don't, don't bother. You won't find a peep about Brooke Shields, postpartum or Scientology. You will also realize Katie and Suri don't exist, because they aren't mentioned anywhere. And you will realize Tom is for sure hetero because there's lots of clips of him kissing lots of girls.

All it took was one $200K website and some Flash and now I know I should listen to him when he says to take my vitamins. Because, you know, he's such a SERIOUS AND IMPORTANT movie star.

Travels with Aimee

In no particular order, here's what's made me chuckle from the road this week:

• Monday morning, 5 a.m. ish at Lambert. The nose-pierced girl behind me suddenly asking (in an oddly slow, not-panicked-I'm-gonna-miss-my-flight-way) if she could go ahead in the security line. Me saying, "Well, I guess..." sensing this wasn't a true emergency, which I am always happy to accommodate. And her validating me by saying, "That's OK, I don't have to. I'm just so000 tired, and I want to get on the plane." Me thinking, WTF?????????? Me snapping, "Well, aren't we all" and standing my ground.
• Multiple people at my client commenting, on seeing me in my more advanced maternity state and clothes, "Oh, I didn't know you were pregnant?" followed by "You don't look very big." Well, but remember how you just a minute ago said...so I must look...oh, never mind.
• The front desk guy at the hotel pointing me toward cocktail hour in the bar. Me snottily informing him I didn't think the baby would appreciate that. (And knowing my misdirected anger is a direct result of HOW MUCH I WANNA GO IN THAT COCKTAIL HOUR!)
• Me ordering dinner last night from a combination KFC/A&W restaurant. Ordering off both menus. Eating half on the drive home. And feeling incredible disappointment when my Lil' Bucket parfait somehow did not make it into the bag.
• Me calling the KFC to get a credit for the Lil' Bucket parfait (they agreed).
• Me ordering $10 room serve "chocolate dome" to make up for missing $1.79 Lil' Bucket.
• Driving my rental Nissan Altima out of the airport, and having to pull over several times within the first two minutes, wondering why it's driving so darn funny. Before I call the rental company's roadside assistance - from side of road, hazards on - at which point I figure out I have been driving 50 m.p.h. in first gear. Because Altima's have manual and automatic mode, and guess which one I was accidentally in? (To my defense, what genius labels a stick shift "+" and "-" instead of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5?)
• My wild little boy becoming inexplicably obsessed with me singing him "Rocky Baby" (aka Rock a Bye Baby) which I never sang at all until last weekend, and suddenly, it's his fave. So he's now requesting it by phone. Eight times tonight.
• Me, physically singing my son Rocky Baby, but in reality, watching Jason Castro butcher Bob Marley and Bob Dylan on Idol. (What the heck WAS THAT?)
• My son, requesting "Mama, home? Mama, home?" last night as I was reading him books by phone.

Okay, that one wasn't funny so much as heart wrenching. I might need to start another list...

I'd Get 5 1/2 Hours of Sleep...

...If I went to bed right now.

What in dear God's name was I thinking agreeing to a 6 a.m. flight?

I can tell you. It's like I forgot there's 3 hours of wake up, drive, get there early time. It's not 6 a.m. your alarm rings, you roll over and board.

Wish me luck on my alarm clock going off, my back-up going off, my coffee auto-brewing, and my car service showing up at 4:15 a.m.

Oddly enough, they didn't laugh or even question remotely that pick-up time. Which almost makes me suspicious, it was too easy, do they even intend to show up... "oh SURE we'll be there, and did you want donuts?"

Welcome, Shane Patrick

Bridget's Mommy become Shane's mommy yesterday at 10:08 a.m. at St John's when she delivered her new 7 lb, 9 oz baby boy!

Well, actually, she became Shane's mommy this morning, when Mom and Dad finally got off their duffs and named him after nearly a day.

Just kidding guys, believe me when I say I wouldn't be surprised to be doing the same delayed naming come August 29th.

Erin and Shane were both doing great. Well, I think Erin was - they certainly hand out the good drugs right after Mom's been through her ordeal, as they should, so hopefully she's still hanging in there today.

Shane is ADORABLE - we met him last night. He makes this awesome little squeaky noise, they said it's from breathing, but rest assured he is perfectly healthy, and in fact, seems pretty much perfect in every way. Even his sweet noise was NOT enough to distract me from how CUTE and good looking this kid is. Especially for a newborn boy. Who can of course, resemble an 80 year old shrunken up elderly man. But this kid's kinda a looker... must have gotten that from his mom's side, right TPD?

A proper post with sweet baby pictures, coming soon. But I couldn't wait any longer to say...

WELCOME TO THE WORLD, Shane Patrick! We love you already.

Motivation

Guess what I'll be doing the last weekend of May, assuming the move/moving/close 1/close 2/giant deposit checks/boxes/packing/unpacking/cleaning doesn't kill me?

Watching the Sex and the City movie - alone with my popcorn, or with whatever girlfriends will join me. I don't get to name my daughter Carrie BECAUSE of this show (Michael says it reminds him too much) so this movie better be damn good to make-up for it.

The noly thing missing will be Cosmos - oh well, I'll have double the Sno-caps instead.

Buying a House Rocks!

What a difference a weekend makes.

After lots of looking...hours of discussion amongst Mike, Kevin our rock star realtor, my mother-in-law Dale (who had the mistfortune to visit this house-a-thon weekend, poor woman) and I... two offers on two different houses on two ends of town...one counter offer on the one...and one happy phone call from our realtor...we have purchased a lovely little three bedroom, two bathroom ranch house in south Webster Groves on Old Watson Road.

We close on both houses - this one and ours - well I guess both are ours - so we'll say House 1 and House 2 - on Wed. May 28. As in next month, before June, within 30 days, just a few weeks away - and icing on cake - the day before Mike's last day of school.

"AH!!!!!" doesn't quite cover how I feel.

I am already plotting our Pod strategies to get out of the one house, store our stuff, then into the other one. And am very thankful that Memorial Day weekend gives us a leg up on packing said Pod.

I am already stressing about inspections. Worried, what if closing costs are twice as much as I'm estimating and it cuts into The Basement Fund, otherwise known as a portion of the proceeds of our current home sale that are earmarked for building a 4th bedroom and a family room/play room/recreation room (aka drinkin' room) in the currently unfinished basement.

I'm already mentally listing who we'll shamelessly recruit to help us move. I'm fretting that the Simple Moves costs - they move the heavy stuff - will be as reasonable and worthwhile as I hope they'll be.

But for one brief moment - I am also realizing it really is okay to be excited, and happy. We bought a house! We will not be homeless May 28! And, we will not be stuck here August 29 and forced to move with a screechy, crazy newborn!

Mike and I agreed on the house! Our moms agreed with us! We managed to keep our buyers, but still land a house that we didn't feel we "settled" too much for!

We don't have to keep our house clean anymore, waiting for the next showing! We found something ready to move in, but with enough projects to make it out own! That we can actually imagine staying in for five or more years! That is close to 44, the Rec Center, Walgreens, the Chinese buffet!

That we like, a lot.

Me happy, me a homeowner once more.

Househunting Sucks

Did you know Webbie Groves is filled with houses that look reasonable but then have the master bedroom on the basement or off the kitchen? Or the Brady Bunch green tile upstairs bathroom that you can't stand up all the way in for fear of poking your head through the 6o degree pitched ceiling? Or rotting wood peeking out underneath the "new siding" it looks like someone added with their arts and crafts staple gun last week? Or is located next to major construction? Or appears to have a chicken coop next door?

In other words...there is something wrong with every one of them. At least in our price range.

If there's not, you can bet it's on the wrong side of the tracks. Or adjacent to the tracks - and both trains come through every ten minutes. Making the earthquake look like a heavy door slamming.

Now that we've sold our house - oh, did I not mention, we've sold our house and have 7 more days to find one to make the deal happen? Yes. Yes yes. So, now that we've sold our house - its as though realtors throughout 63119 have gone on strike. NOTHING in our price range is even popping UP the last few days.

"This is a good problem to have" will be my mantra.

"$&"%*'ing house better come up soon" will be my reality.

Death and Taxes

We completed the second and felt like the first last night.

$1200 to the government later ... I could not be more grateful for my refund check coming to balance things out.

But also left wondering what the $&%# is going on that we owe that much money?

I don't even expect refunds anymore. But to owe? In a W presidential year? I thought he was too busy siphoning cash from our public education systems and mailing it to corporate trusts and the uber-rich, to figure out to stop and ask our middle class butts for more.

How to Have a Happy 2nd Birthday Weekend

Start it with bubbles. Lots of 'em, that shoot out of a Machine that only a Daddy would buy.

Then crash your Aunt Erin's 29th birthday party. While there, really make your mark. Just because the party's at Bridget's grama's house, and it's Bridget's ball, doesn't mean it's hers tonight. It's YOUR BIRTHDAY! Finish 'er off with a raging kegger. Or, if your square parents say no, a Gymboree party with slides, balls, cake and way too many generous presents ought to suffice. (For full documentation, see my Picasa photo account to the right.)
To my birthday boy:

You make us laugh every day now, and this weekend was no exception. It was SO fun watching you jump, climb and be adventurous with your friends. You're quite the two-year old already - demanding this, demanding that, demanding even louder NOT to do this or that ...

Pointing out planes and "tractors" (helicopters) in the sky with so much excitement. Running at top speed with your legs almost in front of your body. Kissing the dogs, cat, Daddy, me and now your babies good night. Patting the baby in my tummy - then patting your "baby" in yours ...

Saying please and thank you in your tiny little voice - often in the right context, but even sweeter when you're thanking me as YOU hand ME your used sippy cup ...

Not just giggling, but screaming with joy now when we tickle you. Just like I did when I was a little kid ...

Learning to draw, learning to count. Screaming out letters when you see them in signs. Telling me there's a triangle on Dad's shirt (when did you even LEARN THAT?) Loving your Gramas, your Daddy, your friend Jackson, Bridgey ... loving everyone around you, really.

You are my sweet, sweet boy, and I wish I could keep you this way for another few years. Well, most days, that is.

I love it all, and I love you. Happy birthday, big boy!

Yes! Double YES!

We listed our house yesterday!

We had one showing yesterday, and two today!!

Got a friend or neighbor looking for a charming two-bed, one bath in Shrewsbury? I can TOTALLY hook you up.

My Hormones or His Brain Farts?

I am SO sorry for the crass title. But that's the real question I have. Twice this week my DH has pretty much made me question whether its his judgment that's flawed ... or my ability to withstand ANY type of frustration in my 1/2-way-through-being-knocked-up-and-long-way-to-go condition.

Item #1: Wednesday night I come home to find my house full of paint fumes. Oil-based fumes. The ONE thing my doctor told me to avoid completely. Besides smoking. Turns out DH wanted to "touch up" our epoxy tile paint in the bathroom. THAT NIGHT. Before our realtor came over to take pictures to put our house on the market. Pictures centered around close-up pictures of our bathtub, of course. Oh no wait! He only took one half-assed show of our bathroom that I think maybe caught an edge of our shower stall.

Did I mention all the windows were closed and my son with his tiny baby angelic lungs was running around in this funk which was practically like a green haze from a Scooby Doo cartoon?

Item #2: Our electric dog fence broke. I don't know when. It takes the dogs (and us) a few days to figure it out, but once they do, they are Born Free on at least a once daily basis. So today we decide it is a Priority for DH to fix it. A process that usually takes between 20 and 60 minutes depending how hard it is for him to isolate where the line broke. Mr. Squirrel is usually the culprit, and once you twist in extra wire to continue the circuit and rebury it, boom you're done.

Here's what occurred, today ...

3:30 Matthew and I (REMEMBER I AM PREGNANT) lay down for a nap when DH goes outside to fix fence.

4:10 Wake up to doorbell and fervent knocking. Sweet little girl down the street informs me Murphy and Bogey are "playing at the park."

4:11 I oh so patiently inform my husband (who is outside, mind you) that the dogs are not 10 feet away and invisible as he must have suspected ... but are at the part 2 blocks away.

4:12 Back to sleep in a huff.

6:30 Wake up to find DH chatting with neighbor. Upon request for a progress update, I learn we have "isolated a break in the line" but not fixed it.

Then proudly tells me how he HAS however raked the yard and picked up the dog poop. You know, those mission critical items.

6:31 Sigh heavily, stomp around, go get Matthew up from nap.

6:40 Join Michael across the street talking to neighbor. (Break in sarcastic tone: Found out our neighbor Jackie who's been trying forever is PREGNANT and due just a couple weeks after us. Yahoo!)

7:00 Go back to irritated when Michael and Jackie recount, "Do you know where those dogs were today?" "At the park." "No! They ran up to the train tracks! I/Mike was running down the tracks after them." Stricken look from me. "My adrenaline was pumping. I just kept waiting for that train to come." I patiently take it in - because I am already mentally trying to block this information that several important members of my family could have got killed by the choo choo while I napped. And that my husband knew this, yet instead of fixing the fence to prevent it in the future, focused on scooping the poop.

7:10 DH finally goes back to work and fixes first break but then realizes there must be more than one break. Line still not working. Outside now in near dark.

7:30 Poke my head out to let DH know I've ordered takeout and will be leaving to get it and taking Matthew. Find him chatting with different neighbor. This one's a musician and is showing Mike his ukele (no comments, please) and the broken strings.

I momentarily lose it. "How's it going? FIXED YET? Just don't want those dogs on the TRAIN TRACKS AGAIN."

It gets boring after this because I go get food and RedBox movie, and come home to find he fixed the fence. Lovely family story. All's well.

But still. You see my points. You are on my side. right, girl-powered-blog-readership?

Blessings

Today we found out the news we've been waiting to hear since Dec. 25, the day we found out we were pregnant. We found out we're having a little baby girl.

And, we found out she's developing perfectly. She was wiggling around, perfect size, and appeared perfectly healthy.

So I just posted about this on my other blog. And turned the blog template pink, and posted cute pictures of Matthew wearing his special big brother t-shirt. And was just really happy and just la la la, I'm posting about having a girl, isn't this fun?

And then, as I'm cruising through my regular blog reading list ... I stumble across this post on Not That You Asked.

And now I'm sitting here in tears, barely able to talk to Michael about why I'm crying. About a stranger's story, about still more strangers - and their sweet 16 month old baby girl who's very very sick with cancer.

So here comes the cliche but my God, it makes me realize how blessed we are.

And it's not because I'm getting the girl I was so publicly hoping for. It's because I have a beautiful healthy kid sleeping peacefully in the other room, in the nursery we are able to financially provide for him. Because he was cared for today by the loving nanny we're able to hire. Because we both have steady jobs.

Mostly though, because Matthew's been perfectly healthy for these first two years of his life, minus his rvery minor little surgery. For which I had financial coverage, and good medical access.

I guess this post hit me so hard tonight - well, besides the heartbreaking photo - maybe because it reminds me how even the blessings you do have can seem like an illusion that falls apart in one second, with one doctor visit. How the world can just suck to unbelievable levels sometimes, and tends to hit the wrong people.

And how, until the day it hits you, and maybe even when it does, you have to work as hard as you can to keep yourself honest and just appreciate every single thing you have going for you.

Ignore the daily bullshit like work and deadlines and househunts and dog hair that just doesn't matter. And count your blessings, every single tiny and seemingly insignificant one. I guess it's not a cliche for nothing.

Bright Spots

So by Thursday night my peppyness was a bit done. I was tired and ready to be home, but still had a long day of work and traveling ahead Friday.

Woke up Friday and various things set me off to a bad start. So texted Mike, "Off to a bad start, better send me a good pic [meaning of Matthew] quick."

I didn't get a pic, but got an even better text message back:

A plane just flew overhead and matthew looked up and screamed hi mama hi mama

The day improved markedly as did my mood after that.