I'm Turning Into My Mother

Or at least, I seem to be trying to.

My cousin Rachel's baby shower is coming up, and I thought it'd be fun to try my hand at making a diaper cake. I recently saw one, and my first thought was "I could make one of those". And strangely, the thought came to me in my mom's voice. Kinda like how when someone asks me how to spell something, or the meaning of a word, I hear my mom's voice say "Sound it out" or "Look it up" a split second before I usually find myself saying those same words aloud.

So I did a little research to find out if there was a special technique or some secret I needed to know (there's not) and voila, ended up with this:


And since I'm shamelessly tooting my own horn here, I will also share that I made that "I love my dog" pacifier holder. Oh that's right. Made it. I'd gotten the green one with the bones & paws on it off of Etsy, and then was in JoAnn Fabrics and saw the "I love my dog" ribbon. Again, the thought came to me in my mom's voice "you could make another pacifer holder for Rachel out of that ribbon"...



The good news is that I'm not talking back to my mom's voice in my head (yet).

It was bound to happen.

Warning: spoiler alert. If you haven't read the Twilight series, and if you want to read it, and if you care about not having the ending spoiled, then stop reading now.

I mean it. Stop. Resist the urge, no matter how witty and droll you know I'm going to be. (ha)

And yes, I did just look up droll on dictionary.com to confirm my usage of it.


Anyway -

Shortly after Gabe was born, I started re-reading the Twilight series while I pumped breastmilk to distract myself from feeling oddly akin to a dairy cow.

I just finished reading Breaking Dawn, and so it was bound to happen that between the fresh memory of the little vampire spawn that grew at an accelerated rate, and my new parent of-course-my-child-is-brilliant-and-advanced-why-wouldn't-he-be mentality, I had this dream last night:

We were at a park, and I was in the restroom washing my hands before fixing lunch. I had Gabe with me and was chatting it up with him in the way that I've found I often do now (side note - having a baby was the best thing I could ever do for covering up my tendency to talk to myself...now I just address the comments to Gabe and instead of looking like 'that crazy lady talking to herself', I just look like 'that crazy lady talking to her baby like he can actually understand her' - brilliant!).

So in the dream I say to Gabe: "...and we wouldn't want to have dirty hands now, would we?"

And Gabe sassily answers back: "I would."

I distinctly remember my dream self taking a half second to shove aside the thought that I needed to capitalize on this teaching moment and discuss with Gabe why wanting dirty hands is not appropriate. After that, I ran outside with Gabe in my arms yelling "He talked! He talked!" I ran up to Bret and, talking fast and out of breath, told him what happened and then tried to get Gabe to talk again all the while thinking "No! You can't let him know that you want him to talk again, because then he won't do it!" (which I'm pretty sure comes from Gabe rolling over on New Year's Eve but then refusing to demonstrate this skill on demand ever since). And the last part of the dream I remember is both Bret and Gabe looking at me in total confusion because I was talking so fast I wasn't making sense, and feeling really frustrated that they couldn't just read my mind.

Gotta love your subconscious.

Sunday, January 24, 2010 - 5:32 pm

...the precise moment my baby showed signs of turning into a little boy.

Evidence:

Is it the polo shirt collar? Is it the hair that's grown out to look like what I imagine future haircuts will look like?

I don't know.

But I do know that after these photos were taken, I changed Gabe into a fuzzy sleeper so he'd look like my baby again.

(note the spit-up streak down his shirt, which happened approximately three seconds after I sat him up for pictures. point taken, Gabriel...point taken)

Three Months

Gabe turned 3 months old on Monday.

3 months already! Craziness.

My grandmother gave us these boots for Gabe at his baby shower. I had them on a little shelf waiting for his feet to get big enough, and I almost waited too long!

Kickin' it with Daddy.

Ready for the ten-step.

"Um, Mom? You didn't put any pants on me. I feel a little silly wearing cowboy boots without pants."

"Alright then, since I'm not dressed up I guess I'll just relax."

But godliness with contentment is great gain.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about going back to work. I don't go back until the end of March, but in true worrier fashion, I started thinking about it as soon as the calendar turned to 2010. As long as it was still 2009, the end of March seemed a long way away. Now it doesn't.

At the very beginning of January it was "but I still have more time off left ahead of me than behind me". And then a few days later when I hit the halfway point, it was "but I still have 2 months left" and soon it will be "but I still have 1 month left" and then I will be counting days.

Can you tell my glass is half empty on this topic, even though I'm trying to think in terms of half full?

I think about winning the lottery. I think about my dream job: getting paid to interview people and write their stories. I think about discovering oil in our backyard.

A few days ago, a whisper in the back of my mind started:

Contentment. Godliness.

They were breezy thoughts that would float by.

And they've gotten stronger. This morning it was a reader board scrolling red words in my head: But godliness with contentment is great gain. But godliness with contentment is great gain.

And then the words would come up one at a time.

Godliness.

Contentment.

Great gain.

And then they would come up and start flashing.

Godliness. Godliness. Godliness.

Contentment. Contentment. Contentment. CONTENTMENT.

1 Timothy 6:6-10 But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.

Hm. That stings.

Truth be told, it's not only because we have Gabriel that I don't want to go back. It's because I just don't want to work. Even before Gabriel I didn't want to work. I think it's been a good three years since I was actually excited about going to work. Sure, some of it is the job and questioning whether it matters, whether there's value in it, whether it's fulfilling. But a healthy portion of it is just laziness.

I would really like for that to change. I really hope that I want it to change enough for it to change. I am tired of not being content.

This is what happens when...

...you try to take pictures of a 3 month old boy who is developing his stomach muscles:

"Um, Mom? A little help here, please?"

Recent Pictures I Love (of Gabe, of course)

Happy little boy!

Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?

Got time for a chat with the Church Lady?

Oh yeah, Mr. Glo-Worm? Well I can do funny big blue eyes TOO!

There are just not words to accurately describe how happy this picture makes me!

Pardon?

Handsome? Who, me?

Aw, shucks!

Sneeze Heard 'Round the World

Poor Gabe had a crying fit tonight because a sneeze of Bret's startled him while he was eating. I can't remember the last time I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time...laugh because I could totally picture it (Bret sneezes with gusto, and I mean GUSTO) and cry because Gabe was crying SO hard with such a scared cry - heartbreaking!

Right now Gabe is watching Bret run on the treadmill. After we got him calmed down, Bret went downstairs to run. I brought Gabe down and he just started staring at Bret...so I put him in his chair and he's been there for a good 15 minutes now, no noises...just staring at Bret.

Bret took these pictures from the treadmill:





I have to wonder if Gabe is thinking: "Oh that's right - you'd better run, mister...because if I ever catch you..."

Secret Blog Reader

Here's my latest confession:

I regularly read the blog of someone I don't know.

I'm not talking about someone like the Pioneer Woman, who is a "famous" blogger and has a huge following.

I'm talking about someone normal. Regular. Just like you and me.

Is that weird?

I blame it on curiosity. So for that matter, I can blame it on my mother, who fostered a keen sense of curiosity in me. But I should probably just blame it on the boogie (that one was for you, Laura).

It started because my friend Annie has a TON of people on her blog list. And she's got it set up so cute little pictures show up next to the name of every person's blog. So one day, I clicked on this normal person's blog, and read it. And now, when I go to read Annie's blog, I check this other person's blog too for new posts.

So really, is that weird?

Because typing it out suddenly makes me feel like it might be just a bit weird.

It's just that she seems so normal, and she has a cute little 5 month old daughter, and she seems to post just about as many pictures of her daughter as I do of Gabe...

Ok, maybe those are just excuses and it really is weird.

But isn't that what the blogging world is all about? Because really, if we weren't aware and prepared for the fact that someone we don't know might read our blog, then we would just keep a journal instead, right?

So I just decided that it's not weird.

And if by some chance someone I don't know is reading this post, I want you to know that I don't think you're weird.

OOOOH! Wouldn't it be weird if the person whose blog I read also reads mine??

(Paul, I want you to know that I spelled "weird" right the first time in this post because of you. Many thanks.)

Monkey Suit

Man, I could post pictures of my kid all day...

The Key of G

Musical prodigy?


Quite possibly.

Shout out

A few weeks ago Jane said "you should give me a shout out on your blog".

Because of course, my blog is almost exactly the same thing as being in the audience of TRL with Carson Daly and being given the opportunity to say hi to your friends back at home. Yeah, pretty much exactly like that. (Is TRL even still on MTV? Or is MTV just all about the reality shows these days?)

So Jane, because Sunday is your 36th birthday, here is your shout out.
*********************

I have known Jane for 30 years. We were in Mrs. Johnson's first grade class together. Mrs. Johnson was British and would say "bloody" a lot. As in: "pick up your bloody books!" and "you kids are bloody loud!" One time, we were playing on the big concrete tunnel at the far end of the playground and didn't hear the bell, so when we finally realized that the playground was empty we went back in to class, and we were sure that Mrs. Johnson would yell at us. But she didn't.

Not a very exciting story, sorry.

Jill was also in first grade with Jane and me, and Jill and I used to fight over who got to sit with Jane at lunch. I thought I had a picture of Jane from the first grade but I can't find it.

However, I did find these:

Pictures of my 10th birthday party. Jane is the one peeking slyly out from behind the arm of the couch in the first picture and peeking slyly at my mom on the left side of the second picture. Apparently, peeking slyly was Jane's shtick at my 10th birthday party. [side note: that's mint chocolate chip ice cream my mom is scooping...my favorite type, which she made with my grandma's ice cream maker. my mom is so cool.]

Jane had two (TWO!!) cabbage patch kid dolls and would generously let me play with one when I came over. I remember one was named Ollie. Also, Jane's room had funky wallpaper that looked like yellow, green, pink and white quilt squares. Jane has two older sisters so we were able to raid their Sweet Dreams romance books. I think the one we always talked about was "P.S. I Love You" about a 15 year old girl that falls in love (true love, of course) one summer. Of course, now that I think about it, most of the books were about 15 year old girls that fall in love (true love, of course) over a summer.

In the sixth grade I invited Jane to come with my family on a vacation to Crescent Bar.

Hmm. I guess the peeking slyly thing lasted through sixth grade, too. [side note: the baby backside in the terry cloth summerwear is my sister Laura's.]

In the 7th grade, we went Christmas shopping and decided to get our picture taken with Santa.

Looks like peeking slyly was handed off to Santa that year.

Later in the seventh grade, during a sleepover night, Jane and I decided to venture out into the cold and dressed appropriately for the weather in my dad's coats.
I don't really know when it started, but Jane would/does talk in funny voices and ALWAYS made/makes me laugh.

In junior high I had a crush on Josh Smith. Jane was in a class with him and he corrected her paper (you know how teachers would do the 'hand your paper to the person behind you for correction' thing). Jane ripped the corner out of her paper where he'd written "corrected by Josh Smith" and gave it to me. Now that's a good friend. Of course, Jane also - to this day - makes fun of me for wearing my girl scout uniform to school in the sixth grade, when I TOTALLY didn't, because I wasn't in girl scouts past the fourth grade...but that's not the point of this post.

In the 9th grade, we were all sad the last day of school because half the kids were going to a different high school.
[right about now I'm guessing that Jane is thinking of the old adage "be careful what you wish for" as she reads this shout out post]

Jane and I went to the same high school, but hardly had any classes together. Sophomore year we had Band together, where she met Bon - but I'm getting ahead of myself. Senior year we had Health together. Even though Jane and I didn't have a lot of contact at school and spent much of our time with different groups of friends, I always appreciated that we could pick up easily where we left off.

Right after I turned 19, a group of us went up to Canada to go dancing (ok, let's be honest...we went up to Canada because the drinking age there was 19, and we thought we were being sooooo rebellious!).
After graduating from college, Jane and I got an apartment together. It had a vaulted ceiling in the living room and the first Christmas we decided to go to a u-cut farm and get a really tall tree. Little did we know that really tall trees are correspondingly really expensive. I think it was around $70. For a Christmas tree! A tree that you cut down and then spend three weeks vacuuming up after!

Anyway, this is a picture of us getting in to the spirit of cutting our own tree:
I think we must have just seen Austin Powers, thus the explanation for the pose.

As previously mentioned Jane met Bon in highschool and they began dating. But not until after Jane went to Homecoming our Sophomore year with Jim, who wore green and navy plaid pants. That really has nothing to do with anything, I just wanted to remember Jim's plaid pants for a minute because it makes me smile.

I think this is Jane & Bon's engagement picture.

I have no idea why this picture makes me want to laugh out loud. Is it the oh-so-casually posed arm Bon has around Jane? Is it the "hey, let's try a senior portrait pose for this picture" feel of the shot? I have no idea. But, the only engagement photos Bret and I have are taken by my mom in my parent's kitchen with her cupboards in the background. So I probably shouldn't give in to the out loud laughter when I look at this picture.

Jane asked me to be the Maid of Honor for her St Patrick's Day/2001: A Space Odyssey wedding. It was definitely an honor! These are pictures from her bachelorette party:
I got her practical underwear.

And a not so practical nightgown. [side note: that must be the guy who Santa passed on the peeking slyly gig to.]

Jane ended the evening with solo karaoke. I think a few margaritas may have contributed to the occasion.

This is a picture from Jane's wedding day:
I doubt we had just seen Austin Powers before her wedding so I really don't know what our excuse was for this pose. [side note: would you look at the size of my arms?? and worse, compare them to Jane's arms??]

Bon's into photography and took wonderful pictures at our wedding! This is one of my top 5 favorite pictures from the whole day:

After we had Gabe, Jane offered up Bon's photography talents for baby pics. We met at my parent's house and had a REAL photo shoot: big camera, light umbrella flash thingies, and all!

This is Jane with her adorable young 'uns, Jack and Emma (and of course, Gabe...because you can never have too many pictures of Gabriel, I always say).

Bon got awesome pictures of Gabe - here's a link to his blog: http://regalaphotography.bigfolioblog.com/

These are a couple of my favorites:


I think I will soon be making the above picture the new header art of this blog. But I digress (as I often do when I get started looking at pictures of my kid!).

As a summary of my shout out to Jane, I will recite a poem I wrote many many moons ago:

Fishies swim, birdies fly

Janey's weird and so am I.

Happy Birthday, Jane!

Ah-ha!

Caught in the act!