That title may be a teensy bit misleading, but rest assured, I am NOT PREGNANT, nor have we made any decisions about whether I will ever be pregnant again.
However, the baby in question will be related to me, and today we find out, hopefully, about the baby's health and sex, as it's Big Ultrasound day for my brother and sister-in-law. I now understand how my sister felt when I was pregnant. I am so excited I can hardly stand it. Technically, I am already an aunt, as Aaron's brother has two girls, but this is different. My baby brother is going to have a baby!
And so, it's April
Posted in 1 Year Old, 3-year-old, Family Ties, Gabbalicious, Getting It Together, Peanut on by
The other day Gabbie and I were doing a kid's yoga routine, and we were doing child's pose. Sophie had been playing on the other side of the room, but chose that moment to come over and sit on my head. I couldn't stop laughing for about ten minutes after that.
Then, this past weekend, I was explaining something to Gabbie, and when I was done, she responded, "Okay. Gotcha." It was just so grown up, and it caught me off guard, and I was off to chuckling once again.
The story continues on as it has, work is crazy, and I'm now convinced that the slow period following the craziness that I used to get has disappeared forever. I took on this role, not quite realizing the scope and the national recognition and that I now had to be much more careful, serious, and political. I don't mind it so much, but I'm also not quite sure how I got here. I went into my Masters program because it was kinda sorta related to what I liked in undergrad, and then I got an internship at my company, and now, nearly 9 years later, I have a career. Not a job, but an honest-to-God career. It feels pretty amazing to be here, but I wouldn't mind slowing down sometime.
Most days, though, I leave the work at the office, and shed that skin through a chat with my mom (hands free, of course) on the drive from work to school, and arrive, refreshed and simultaneously exhausted, with a smile on my face to greet my girls. The last three hours at work are spent missing them like crazy, and I can't hide the glee when they run up and hug my legs. They are, of course, the reason that I put up with the work craziness, so I can give them the best life possible.
Yesterday Sophie had to stay home for some gross, illness related issues, of which I'll spare you the details. I gave Gabbie the choice of whether or not to go to school, and she chose to stay home with us. We ate breakfast, played, ran errands, ate lunch, played, napped, planted some wheat grass for Easter decorating, ran another errand, and played some more. It was the kind of day where I could pretend that I was nobody other than a mom to these sweet girls, and it was rejuvinating and fantastic, and something that I desperately want to do more often.
Then, this past weekend, I was explaining something to Gabbie, and when I was done, she responded, "Okay. Gotcha." It was just so grown up, and it caught me off guard, and I was off to chuckling once again.
The story continues on as it has, work is crazy, and I'm now convinced that the slow period following the craziness that I used to get has disappeared forever. I took on this role, not quite realizing the scope and the national recognition and that I now had to be much more careful, serious, and political. I don't mind it so much, but I'm also not quite sure how I got here. I went into my Masters program because it was kinda sorta related to what I liked in undergrad, and then I got an internship at my company, and now, nearly 9 years later, I have a career. Not a job, but an honest-to-God career. It feels pretty amazing to be here, but I wouldn't mind slowing down sometime.
Most days, though, I leave the work at the office, and shed that skin through a chat with my mom (hands free, of course) on the drive from work to school, and arrive, refreshed and simultaneously exhausted, with a smile on my face to greet my girls. The last three hours at work are spent missing them like crazy, and I can't hide the glee when they run up and hug my legs. They are, of course, the reason that I put up with the work craziness, so I can give them the best life possible.
Yesterday Sophie had to stay home for some gross, illness related issues, of which I'll spare you the details. I gave Gabbie the choice of whether or not to go to school, and she chose to stay home with us. We ate breakfast, played, ran errands, ate lunch, played, napped, planted some wheat grass for Easter decorating, ran another errand, and played some more. It was the kind of day where I could pretend that I was nobody other than a mom to these sweet girls, and it was rejuvinating and fantastic, and something that I desperately want to do more often.
Bits and Pieces
Posted in 1 Year Old, 3-year-old, Gabbalicious, Pure Silliness on by
This is what happens when I ask each of my girls to smile for the camera:
I think goofy is the default setting for 3.5 year olds.
***
You know how you go along in life thinking this one thing, and then find out you're actually wrong, and it's all kinds of embarrassing? Yeah. That. So.
Some examples:
The Secretary of Defense has a name, and it's not Lee Onpanetta. It's Leon Panetta. Where you put the break in those two words does, in fact, make a big difference, and will also probably cause your partner to laugh at you when you say something about what you heard Onpanetta say on NPR, and he's all confused, and then you clarify.
Also: my mom had a hearty laugh at my expense one day when I was much younger (I believe I was in high school at the time), and I said something about Nat King Cole's daughter, Carole King. (His daughter is actually Natalie Cole - at least I knew his daughter was also a famous singer, right?)
My favorite one of these is not mine, but my sister's. One day when she was being an annoying little kid, my brother and I told her that if you ring the doorbell too many times the basement would flood. See, she was ringing the doorbell repeatedly, and my parents had just had a very stressful time dealing with a flooded basement, so this made an impression. So much so that she still believed this to be true until one day, when she was about 15, she panicked when her friend started ringing the doorbell repeatedly. She started to tell her why she shouldn't do it, when halfway through her sentence, it clicked that we were full of crap, and had tricked her.
Ahhh, good times.
***
Gabbie had a tough day yesterday, starting with excitement due to preschool happenings (it was green day, our snack day, show and tell day, and I was coming in to read a book to her class), and then went into a nose dive when she realized I was going to leave her at school when I left after reading the book. She starting hysterically sobbing, and was crying on and off for the next three hours, upsetting her friends and disturbing some other kids' nap time. I feel horrible about it all - about having to go back to work and leaving her there, about the teachers having to deal with the crying, about how sensitive she is (and that's all my fault, I was the same way). When she gets like this I can feel it in my heart, because I have so been there.
I explained that I have to work so that we can have a house, and clothes, and toys, and food, and I know she gets it, but she still wants me, and that doesn't change. So, Friday, because she's feeling attention-starved and because she got an awesome report card last night, I'm taking the day off and we're having a day to ourselves. We're thinking about going to the zoo, meeting up with Aaron for lunch, and perhaps some shopping. It should be fabulous.
And now I should go back to working so that I can get everything done and can actually take the day off.
I think goofy is the default setting for 3.5 year olds.
***
You know how you go along in life thinking this one thing, and then find out you're actually wrong, and it's all kinds of embarrassing? Yeah. That. So.
Some examples:
The Secretary of Defense has a name, and it's not Lee Onpanetta. It's Leon Panetta. Where you put the break in those two words does, in fact, make a big difference, and will also probably cause your partner to laugh at you when you say something about what you heard Onpanetta say on NPR, and he's all confused, and then you clarify.
Also: my mom had a hearty laugh at my expense one day when I was much younger (I believe I was in high school at the time), and I said something about Nat King Cole's daughter, Carole King. (His daughter is actually Natalie Cole - at least I knew his daughter was also a famous singer, right?)
My favorite one of these is not mine, but my sister's. One day when she was being an annoying little kid, my brother and I told her that if you ring the doorbell too many times the basement would flood. See, she was ringing the doorbell repeatedly, and my parents had just had a very stressful time dealing with a flooded basement, so this made an impression. So much so that she still believed this to be true until one day, when she was about 15, she panicked when her friend started ringing the doorbell repeatedly. She started to tell her why she shouldn't do it, when halfway through her sentence, it clicked that we were full of crap, and had tricked her.
Ahhh, good times.
***
Gabbie had a tough day yesterday, starting with excitement due to preschool happenings (it was green day, our snack day, show and tell day, and I was coming in to read a book to her class), and then went into a nose dive when she realized I was going to leave her at school when I left after reading the book. She starting hysterically sobbing, and was crying on and off for the next three hours, upsetting her friends and disturbing some other kids' nap time. I feel horrible about it all - about having to go back to work and leaving her there, about the teachers having to deal with the crying, about how sensitive she is (and that's all my fault, I was the same way). When she gets like this I can feel it in my heart, because I have so been there.
I explained that I have to work so that we can have a house, and clothes, and toys, and food, and I know she gets it, but she still wants me, and that doesn't change. So, Friday, because she's feeling attention-starved and because she got an awesome report card last night, I'm taking the day off and we're having a day to ourselves. We're thinking about going to the zoo, meeting up with Aaron for lunch, and perhaps some shopping. It should be fabulous.
And now I should go back to working so that I can get everything done and can actually take the day off.
February Details
Posted in Cheese with my Whine on by
Here's what ate my February (and most of why I'm so glad it's March):
Sicknesses (diagnosed by doctors): 4 sinus infections (3 for Aaron, 1 for Sophie), 4 ear infections (all Sophie), pink eye (Sophie again)
Sicknesses (not diagnosed by doctors): stomach flu (me and Sophie), random 2-day cold (Gabbie)
Prescriptions: 6 antibiotics (3 each, Aaron and Sophie), eye drops, ear drops, a steroid inhaler and spacer (Aaron)
Number of sick days left, cumulative, entire family (including daycare sick coupons): A Big Fat Zero
It has now been decreed: No one is allowed to get sick for an entire two months at least!
Also, 2 birthday parties (out of four invitations: two overlapped, so we had to choose, and one was at Chuck E. Cheese, and with our run of illnesses, no way was I taking my one healthy child at the time into that house of germs), an impromptu trip up to my parents' house (because we were sick of our four walls), and all the other things that go into making a 4-week month seem like it lasts a year.
I'm not going to comment on how everyone is doing now, because I don't want to jinx anything. However, I will comment that I'm going home for lunch today because I feel like I've been punched in the face, so I've scheduled a lunch date with my neti pot. (Dammit.)
Sicknesses (diagnosed by doctors): 4 sinus infections (3 for Aaron, 1 for Sophie), 4 ear infections (all Sophie), pink eye (Sophie again)
Sicknesses (not diagnosed by doctors): stomach flu (me and Sophie), random 2-day cold (Gabbie)
Prescriptions: 6 antibiotics (3 each, Aaron and Sophie), eye drops, ear drops, a steroid inhaler and spacer (Aaron)
Number of sick days left, cumulative, entire family (including daycare sick coupons): A Big Fat Zero
It has now been decreed: No one is allowed to get sick for an entire two months at least!
Also, 2 birthday parties (out of four invitations: two overlapped, so we had to choose, and one was at Chuck E. Cheese, and with our run of illnesses, no way was I taking my one healthy child at the time into that house of germs), an impromptu trip up to my parents' house (because we were sick of our four walls), and all the other things that go into making a 4-week month seem like it lasts a year.
I'm not going to comment on how everyone is doing now, because I don't want to jinx anything. However, I will comment that I'm going home for lunch today because I feel like I've been punched in the face, so I've scheduled a lunch date with my neti pot. (Dammit.)
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