So the Story Goes

First day of preschool art class

2011-09-13T10:16:00.000-07:00

Nolan and I are always looking for something different to do, or something new to try, so when I found out about a mini session of preschool art class being held at the community center this fall, I decided to give it a try. Today was our first of four classes, and even though Nolan is the youngest in the class at 2.5, he was able to hang with the big kids and have fun.

He made a beeline for the easel at the beginning of class, and was soon joined by two little girls.

Drawing with a new friend.

By the end of class he'd created this masterpiece (with almost no help from me -- I just wrote his name at the bottom of the paper).

Time for a little playground time after class!

Multitasking

2011-06-15T18:51:00.000-07:00

Or, as I like to call this picture,"Giddy up and mow the lawn, Thomas!"

And for all of you Thomas the Train fans out there, I will be posting about our "Day Out with Thomas" trip in the mountains last week. Besides going a little nuts taking pictures, someone (and I'm not naming names here) hasn't been napping well this week, leaving me little time to do a whole lot. More to come...

Beating the heat!

2011-06-06T10:17:00.000-07:00

Summer is already here in the South, which means high temperatures and even higher humidity, a combination that melts you even in the shade. Nolan and I welcomed the hot season last week by reacquainting ourselves with an old friend, the swirly fire hydrant sprinkler.

I got some fun action shots of him playing spray. If you click through them fast you'll get more of the effect of him running back and forth. To get a closer look at his expressions, click the link
below the viewer.

Click here to view these pictures larger

Stay cool, peeps!

A Walk in the Woods

2011-06-02T19:08:00.000-07:00

Bill Bryson did it, so we can't we?

Okay, it wasn't exactly the Appalachian Trail, but not long ago the boy and I spent a lovely morning walking on the nature trails in one of our local parks. We listened for the birds and other critters, threw little sticks into the lake, looked for animal tracks, and picked up interesting stones and leaves.

Choosing the right walking stick was of utmost importance.

Yup, this one will do.

Not long into our journey he decided to test out his trail running legs. I think he's got a future on the cross country team.

You just never know who you're going to meet out in the woods. We happened upon this strange fellow in a clearing with some wooden benches, a podium and a fire pit. Nolan noticed him first, giving him a cheery "Hi there!" and wave from the trail. It took me a minute to figure out who had caught his attention.

Say, "aaaaaahhhh!" So much more fun than "cheese."

We had such a good time that I think my little explorer and I will be taking many more "hikes"in different parks throughout the summer and fall.

Backyard Shenanigans

2011-05-27T16:45:00.000-07:00

As if the mini van, the house on a cul-de-sac street and the fenced yard weren't enough to label us as suburbanites, we put up a wooden play set in our yard a couple of weeks ago.

Now, we do have a lovely park just two miles down the road, there are no continuous sidewalks leading to the park in our rapidly changing rural-to-suburban Southern town, and sometimes I've just had enough of schlepping my child in and out of the car just to do something as simple and enjoyable as catching some air on a swing. And although there is a covered picnic area at the park, the play area itself has no shade, which means come summer time the children are scorching their little bums on the sizzling metal and plastic playthings like a rack of ribs on a barbecue.

But enough of my rationalizing and justifying. Time for a picture and video tour of how it all went down.

It started out with a bunch of guys coming to take down five trees in our back yard. (I hate taking down trees, by the way. It makes my inner tree hugger sad. But a few of these weren't in great shape to begin with, so....)

This guy here, way up in the tree, was making me particularly nervous with that chainsaw dangling from a rope at his waist.

I'd like to add that that these guys, who were very polite, told me they would be there "sometime this week" but "definitely not on Monday." When did they show up? Monday. About 12 seconds after I put Nolan down for a nap. When I mentioned my sleeping two year-old, whose windows face the backyard, one of the guys said, "So...you want us to use the quiet chainsaw?"

Har, har, har.

Surprisingly, Nolan slept through the ENTIRE tree removal -- from chainsaws to shouting to trees falling to stump grinding. I was shocked, and a little disappointed. I think he would have gotten a kick out of some of the action.

I ended up tweeting about the tree removal as it was happening, and I received a hilarious haiku back from someone I follow (who only tweets in haiku form) and who also follows me: "One time a tree guy /yelled down to my staring son, / "Hey! Stay in school, kid!" #goodadvice"

About a week later, the play set arrived, as did the guy who put it up. (As much as we like the do-it-yourself projects, Bill and I decided that given the time it would take to build and put something like this up ourselves, this time it was worth paying someone else to do.) Not nearly as exciting as the tree removal, but at least this time I had something to show Nolan when he woke up from his nap besides an empty space where trees used to be.

As you can see, he approves.

We've been having some fun on it as well, given that the swings, fort and climbing rope can hold adults. I think the dogs were a little jealous of how much fun we were having, especially when Nolan started calling out to them from up in the fort.

Good girl, Murph! from Kathleen on Vimeo.

After awhile, Murphy decided she'd had enough and was going to get in on some of this play set action.

Circus Dog from Kathleen on Vimeo.

The next time she irritates me, I may just sell her to the circus. (Note: After I realized she was on the third rung, I stopped the camera and helped her get down. She was fine, totally unharmed, and she hasn't attempted it again -- nor will I let her try again!)

Happy Birthday, May May.

2011-05-25T11:03:00.000-07:00

Today is my sister Mary's birthday.

And she's awesome.

At Christmas time, Nolan wasn't able to say her name yet, so he just called her "May May." He's able to say something that sounds a lot more like "Mary" now, but I'll never forget the first time he tried to say her name.

"May May."

I took this shot a few weeks after Nolan's second birthday, when Mary and her husband came for a visit and we went down to the beach. It's one of my favorite pictures I've taken so far this year.

Happy birthday, Mar. May the coming year be filled with happiness and love. Because you deserve them and so much more.

Trembling Tracks!

2011-05-20T07:50:00.000-07:00

If you don't recognize the reference in the post title, then -- fizzling fireboxes! -- you don't watch enough Thomas the Train.

We gave Nolan and small wooden train set last Christmas, and it was love. Ever since then he's had trains on the brain, and so for his birthday last month we made him a train table. We downloaded some free train table plans from Squirrel Trains, and since my eighth grade wood shop teacher forever made me afraid of sawing off my finger with any sort of electric blade, Bill did all the wood working. I did a little bit of searching on Flickr for do-it-yourself train table painting ideas, borrowed some paint and brushes from my wonderfully crafty (as in arts-and-crafts) mother-in-law, and got to work. Now, my painting and art skills are simple at best, but hey, I'm not Michelangelo and this wasn't the Sistine Chapel. I went for "abstract but whimsical" with the trees, and I think the water features turned out pretty nice.

We put the initial layout together using Nolan's existing track plus some new track and a few very cool "destinations" -- the crane, quarry mine, grain loader and pig shed -- given to him by my parents. And, bubbling boilers! We had a train table! I think we make the hobby woodworkers and train aficionados on both sides of the family proud.

We decided not to glue or nail the tracks in place like we've seen done on other train tables because Nolan has fun taking the tracks apart and trying to put them back together. I figure that activity is probably helping him develop his fine motor skills, along with rudimentary math, puzzle and problem solving skills, so who am I to mess with that?

We're also having a lot of fun seeing and hearing Nolan play with his trains at the table. He's started to talk out loud about what the trains are doing as he's playing, giving us a glimpse into his developing imagination -- apparently Thomas & friends are pretty clumsy and crash into each other a lot, and often get dirty and then have to go to the car wash. The engines also really like to go to the "doe doe" (doughnut shop) and order chocolate doughnuts.

As we predicted, the train table is a hit. But not just with our kid. Just about every adult who has visited our house since we built the table has pushed at least one engine along the tracks.

Shake it!

2011-04-03T18:24:00.000-07:00

Your maracas and your bells, that is.

Once a month, our local MOMS Club organizes a music class for any of the kids and moms who'd like to participate. I took these videos of Nolan during last month's class -- I'd completely forgotten I had them on my phone until I was flipping through my photos and videos today. I just had to share.

Music Class (Part I) from Kathleen on Vimeo.

Who doesn't love maracas?! He definitely gets an A+ for enthusiasm.

Music Class (Part II) from Kathleen on Vimeo.

And for those of you who might be wondering, no, that is not me singing in the background. Although the song could have been written for me -- it was called "Where are the car keys?" and had to do with (you guessed it) losing the car keys.

Virginia is for Runners

2011-03-29T10:22:00.000-07:00

Road trip!

A couple of weeks ago we went up to Virginia Beach so Bill could run the Shamrock 1/2 marathon. Roughly 24,000 runners participated in the weekend's events (an 8K, a 1/2 marathon and a full marathon), and most of them cheerfully wore some kind of cloverleaf kitsch and/or or green, which helped make it one of the most fun and festive races we've ever been to.

We arrived the day before the race, and spent most of our time on the beach enjoying some unseasonably warm temperatures.

We scoped out the ocean (Nolan got close to the water's edge but stopped just shy of dipping his toes), played in the sand, and chased some sea gulls. The next day (and the day after that, and the day after that) Nolan woke up asking for "ocean." He now loves to point out "ocean" whenever he sees a picture of a large body of water, the seashore, or any kind of swimming animal. I've got a feeling we'll be taking some day trips to the beach this year.

The morning of the race, Nolan and I went out to cheer for the marathoners until it was time to cross the street to the boardwalk try and catch Bill at the finish line.

I had the camera out. I was ready to get the action shot of Bill approaching the finish line. Then Nolan started fussing to be picked up. So I held him in my right arm, and I was adjusting the camera for my left hand, I see Bill running by. With no time to look through the lens or focus, I took a Hail Mary shot....

and got this. (Nice legs, babe.)

When we got back to our hotel, we were able to sit out on the balcony and watch as the full marathoners run by. We cheered for them, sipping some hot chocolate and all the while thinking, "Glad that's not us!"

Oh, and what's that outside our window? A playset? Right there on the beach?!

I'm not sure who was more excited!

Toddler Unplugged

2011-03-14T15:18:00.000-07:00

I always wonder what is going through my toddler's head.

It turns out he thinks a lot about baseball.

I had a rare, Jane Goodall-esque moment last week to observe Nolan playing in his natural habitat (the backyard) before he really noticed I was filming him with my IPhone. While stomping bubbles with his feet and dragging his mower all around, he gives some insightful, unfettered commentary on the America's favorite pastime, including "hit the ball," "hit home run," "bat the ball," and "swing!"

Nolan mows the lawn (and thinks about baseball).

Confessions of a Runner

2011-03-07T19:13:00.001-08:00

Thanks to my awesome in-laws, I had a couple of kid free hours today and was able to take a nice, relaxing run. While I was out enjoying the crisp, early spring afternoon, I thought of a conversation Twitter earlier this week called, "Confessions of a Runner." It was started by the folks at Runner's World, and had me laughing well into the next day because some of people's confessions are just so true.

Here are a few of my favorites, and the ones I am absolutely, 100%, shamelessly guilty of:

* I run faster when I see someone coming.

* I like running hills because I can pass cyclists grunting up a hill (Sidebar: Okay, I don't really like running hills at all -- who does? -- but it is rather satisfying to breeze past someone on a bike chugging it up like the Little Train That Could).

* I run faster and tidy up my form when I run past a crowd.

* I check myself out -- I mean I assess my stride -- when I run past a window.

* I wave at cars when I pass them at a red light.

* I think if someone behind me is going to catch me, I speed up.

* I like the crazy looks I get when I tell people how far I ran.

* I run with the sun on my right or left so I can admire how skinny and fit I look in my side shadow.

* I love passing people, pets, children, even squirrels on a long run.

* Running in the rain makes me feel hard core.

*When no one is looking, I sniff inside my running shoes. (Note to my husband: Although I admit to this, I still refuse to smell inside your running shoes, so don't ask! I'm more than happy to let you be the default winner of "whose running shoes are stinkier," forever and ever.)

And what was my confession to all the runners on Twitter?

* Sometimes when I get to the top of a really tough hill I raise my arms up in the air like Rocky on the stairs.

And in sports news...

2011-02-27T04:38:00.000-08:00

It almost makes him waking us before 7 a.m. on a Sunday bearable.

I'm baaack

2011-02-26T17:00:00.000-08:00

I had lunch with two good friends today, (two of the first friends I made when I moved to this slice of the South, actually) and they basically browbeat me into posting again in the way that only old friends can.

Whenever I have a long lapse in posting, I always feel super guilty about it. But then when I think about posting again, I always feel this need to catch up on everything that happened since my last post, and that's just too overwhelming. So I adopt a super go getter strategy and...do nothing at all. Until one day someone comes and tells me that they've been checking the blog and are disappointed when nothing new is there. And I'm like, "Really?" I had no idea. I've got analytics that tell me about traffic to the blog, but it is so different getting real, live feedback.

"But how is my mother supposed to keep with the boy?!" asked one of my friends.

Wait, what? Your mother?

I started this blog just as a way to keep up with family and friends and as a means to document some of our life and our kid growing up. In no way do I consider myself any kind of serious Mommy blogger or anything, so to know that someone's mother or friend is not only reading what I dump out of my brain into cyberspace, but actively looks to see if there are any new brain dumpings on a regular basis kind of blows me away. I mean, when I look at the analytics report sometimes I can guess who is logging in from where, and when I see hits from places like Texas or the United Kingdom I figure folks just stumbled on here for a minute during a google keyword search gone bad.

(Quick aside to Alicia's mother: For the longest time I had no idea who the visitor was from the Bay area -- mystery solved! I'm touched. ::Big hug!::)

I like posting. But sometimes life gets crazy, and I don't make the time for it. So maybe this is shameless, but I'm going to mention it anyway. The comment function. Don't be afraid to use it to ask questions, make an observation, or tell your own story. Because it helps me (and people who blog everywhere, however infrequently, ::ahem::) feel like we're not spewing our thoughts into a completely black hole.

And since I've got that compulsive catch up need thing going on, here is our story (in a nutshell) since my last post: December was that lovely flavor of enjoyable holiday chaos minus the sick and feverish child between Dec. 26 and New Years Day, January was marked by the Ear Infection From Hell That Wouldn't Go Away and multiple visits to the pediatrician, and in February we took a much needed little family vacation.

There.

Done.

For now.

Surprise! An Ice Sculpture

2010-12-16T10:22:00.000-08:00

I'm not a big fan of winter weather unless there is skiing, sledding, or maybe ice skating involved, but none of those things are in store for me today despite the wintry weather here in the South. I did get a nice surprise this afternoon though as I went out to the mailbox to stick in the last of our Christmas cards. We've got a rosebush that grows up around our mailbox, and I noticed that some leaves had fallen away and nature had left us this nice little ice sculpture.

Racing toward the holiday season

2010-12-08T19:21:00.000-08:00

I've been a blog slacker.

I know.

It's not like I'm known for my punctuality in real life, so is it really a surprise?

Anyway, by the end of October found the three of us juggling shorter days and the longer miles required during my last few weeks of training for my third 1/2 marathon. I was also battling some pretty bad race regret at that point, which is pretty bad considering the race was still 3 weeks away. For those of you not familiar with race regret, there are two types:

Type 1 happens before the race has even begun, usually when you've got only a few weeks until the race but still have some of the longest weekly miles ahead of you. You start feeling resentful of the time suck that is your training, wishing the race was here already because you're done, done, done, while simultaneously wishing you were right now somewhere else (usually somewhere warm) while you're running in the chilly dark and hoping those approaching headlights see you huffing it out there on the side of the road and are kind enough not to leave you as road kill. And to the blue hair in the white Lexus who almost took me out one night while turning the wrong way into that intersection, and then had the audacity to honk in combination with a nasty look and a "what the hell?" gesture, I am still not sorry for hollering at you like I caught you stealing from me. Because you deserved it. Side note: For those of you who have me on your Christmas list, a Road ID would be good idea.

Type 2 happens during the race. I'll get to that later.

Anyway, back to racing. The life part, not the running part. A couple weeks before Halloween I discovered that apparently every other parent in the universe plans their child's Halloween costume at least a month in advance, because a month earlier I'd seen some really cute costumes online, but I figured, "who buys a Halloween costume in the middle of September?" A rookie mistake, because two weeks before Halloween all of those cute costumes were gone. I got lucky on Craigslist and found an adorable puppy costume for the wee one.

We attended our neighborhood's annual Halloween parade, and Nolan even walked most of the way. As always, the costumes were great, the kids excited, and the snacks tasty. This year we even had games and prizes at the end of the parade route, although I think Nolan most enjoyed simply taking the little plastic duckies in and out of the duck pond.

Here are some more pictures from the parade. Our 'hood definitely has some of the cutest kids around.

Click here to view these pictures larger

Fast forward a couple of weeks. Race weekend is finally here and we're pulling up in front of our rental house on the Outer Banks after having to make a hasty exit from the race expo and packet pick up because someone had a massive poopy diaper emergency. Seriously, I was standing several feet away in the aisle when I caught wind of that unmistakable odor and realized it was coming my child. I could only imagine the horror Bill must have felt (literally) holding Nolan in his arms.

Race morning was pretty uneventful, and all started out well. I was able to keep a good pace and hang with my runner buddies for quite awhile, convenient for Bill and the other husbands who were driving from point to point on the course to meet us. At one point they were actually driving along right next to us, and Bill snapped some pictures from the car.

I conquered the only one true hill of the race, the causeway at mile 10, but my victory was short lived because around mile 11.5 that Type 2 race regret started to kick in. You start wondering why in the world you willingly subjected yourself to this, and with each footfall your thoughts get more and more crazy-like and the idea of veering of the course to punch the next spectator who screams, "Looking good guys! You're almost there! Just around the corner!" increasingly seems like a good one.

I managed to make it across the finish line without assaulting anyone, and even better I shaved 10 minutes off of my previous PR (personal record) so I was pretty proud of myself. In fact, I had the following conversation with myself in my head: "That's right 28-year old pre-pregnancy self, the 31-year old me just kicked your ass! I grew a person and then came back better and faster than you, ha! Take that!"

In addition to my PR, I also took away a few other souvenirs, including a nifty finisher medal, two black toenails, and some fun pictures.

Click here to view these pictures larger

Thanksgiving was a quiet affair, with Bill running one of the local turkey trots with about 3,000 other people. Now that it's December we're racing around getting things ready for Christmas, and all the while Nolan's speech and language skills are getting faster and faster when it comes to keeping up with his brain. He's saying something new every day, trying out new words and sounds that constantly surprise me. It's also a good reminder for me to look up and enjoy the sounds and scenery along this holiday race route before it all passes by.

18 months old & photo fun

2010-10-19T09:34:00.000-07:00

I like to take pictures. And, of course, my favorite subject is my kid. He turned 18 months old this month, and in the last few days I've had a chance to get some great photos of him just being him.

Click here to view these pictures larger

Most of these photos were taken at an area park where I got together with some other ladies who also like to take pictures. We had a good time -- the kids played while the Moms chased them around with cameras. (I took a lot of the pictures in the slideshow above, but not all of them.) I took the photo of Nolan with the dogs in my own yard, and the rest of the pictures I shot at a recent visit to a fire station with my local Mom's group.

You'll notice that there are a couple of cool pictures of fire trucks, but none of my usually brave little boy on a fire truck. Why? Because whenever I tried to take his picture with one of the trucks, this is what happened:

He loves big, noisy trucks at a distance, but I guess up close they're a little intimidating when you're not quite 3 feet tall.

Swing, batter, batter; swing!

2010-09-30T10:39:00.000-07:00

What to do when you're stuck in the house with a toddler on a rainy day? Play baseball, of course.

Baseball in the House from Kathleen on Vimeo.

Nolan has discovered baseball, and I daresay he's got a crush. Bad. He can't walk by a television -- off or on-- without stopping, pointing to it, and saying, "ball? ball?" and looking at me with a pleading expression to please, please make the guys with the bats and balls appear on the screen.

I blame my husband and my parents for this. Bill took him to a minor league game this summer, where the child not only sat and watched most of the game but probably would've gotten the phone number of the cute five-year-old girl sitting in front of him if only he could talk, what for all the eyelashes, head ducks and grins he was giving her. Fast forward a few weeks later, and he's standing eyes wide and slack-jawed in my in front of my parents' television as they watch the Yankee game, occasionally coming out of his pod-person coma to point to the screen, look at me, and say, "ball? ball?"

Therefore, I guess it's no surprise that when he put two different words together for the first time last weekend, those words were, "no ball." He was standing in front of his little Fisher Price musical house thing where you put the ball in this gutter, and as it clicks down the chute it sings, "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Not seeing the ball, he looked at me and said, "ball?" Before I could respond, he quickly glanced back at the toy, looked at me again, threw up his hands and said, "No ball."

Needless to say, I was tickled. But if he continues to be interested in playing baseball as he grows up, we'll have to teach him to add on a little something to those words. Say it with me. "No ball...in the house."

Sweet Dreams

2010-09-23T10:48:00.000-07:00

Two tickets to Sleepytown, please.

Finger food is so 16 months old.

2010-09-15T09:31:00.000-07:00

Apparently when you turn 17 months old, utensils are in and eating with your hands is out.

Our toddler schooled us on this latest trend when we all sat down to a steak dinner the other night. No sooner had we cut the first pieces and had our forks in mid-air when Nolan started fussing and pointing at me, saying, "Dat! Dat!" He wasn't making any of his usual dinner time signs, like "milk," or "more," or "eat." Just a finger pointed straight at me, "Dat! Dat!" and a lot of frustrated head shaking.

It took us a few minutes, but we finally got it. A fork. The kid wanted a fork for his meat. Okay, sure, no problem. We didn't realize finger food had became passe. I handed Nolan his little baby orange spork, which he promptly threw on the ground. "No, No, No!" "DAAAAAT!"

Oh. The master would like a real fork.

So sorry.

After that he was quite happy to stab at his steak with a real fork while we ate ours. He couldn't quite get the meat on the fork, however, so we helped with that part. But getting the fork to his mouth? That was all him.

Let Him Eat Steak from Kathleen on Vimeo.

High fives and kisses for his fans!

16/17 month letter

2010-09-07T10:50:00.001-07:00

Dear Nolan,

Has it really been nearly five months since your birthday? It's hard to imagine, but when I look back at how much you've developed since then, it's not so unbelievable. At your last doctor's visit (15 months) you were 32+ inches tall and weighed 27.2lbs, a sturdy kid for sure.

At a year old you were walking pretty well, but by now you walk and run with much more confidence, and you've learned a new skill -- climbing.

You love climbing. You like the challenge of it, I can tell. I keep an eye on you as best I can, but some days you move faster than I can blink. You live to climb stairs, chairs, couches, piles of cushions on the floor, playground equipment, the balance beam and wedge mats at the Little Gym -- we've even caught you trying to climb on the dog's back and try to ride her like a pony. Lame, safety conscious parents we are, we always swoop in and put an end to your cowboy routine. Maggie is grateful, even if you sometimes throw a fit.

Ah, the fits. People told me the terrible twos started around 15 months, but I didn't believe them. Now they're having the last laugh. As is typical of kids your age, you're starting to test your boundaries and have little control over your emotions and frustration when you don't get what you want. I get it. That's not to say that it isn't really, really annoying when I'm trying to cook dinner and you carry on with big crocodile tears like I've just burned all your toys on the front lawn, all the while shoving yourself between my legs and the counter and trying to push me away. All because you want my attention RIGHT NOW, and would like to go upstairs to play, even though you've had my attention ALL DAY and ten minutes ago you insisted on coming DOWNSTAIRS.

Really though, your fits and tantrums aren't all that bad. I've seen (and heard) much worse in the aisles of the grocery store or Target. And while I'm sure our day will come with the dreaded "public tantrum," in the meantime we just move quickly to the other side of the store or outside so you don't get any ideas.

All that aside, you've got a very sweet nature. You're a bright, fun, inquisitive, and loving little boy. You give the most adorable toddler kisses, putting your little face close to mine or your Dad's and smacking your little lips. And you're a hugger, for sure. You especially love to hug people or objects your own size. It's darling, and I'm glad you're not a hitter or a biter, but you definitely don't know your own strength. You'll hug your stuffed animals into a tackle, which is cute when it's a stuffed animal, but not so much when you hugged a little girl to the ground at playgroup the other week and she was so startled she started to cry. Luckily, she's got an older brother so she's used to being shoved to the ground (so her mother says), but I think this was her first experience with a take-down hugging.

I also love that you understand when we ask for a hug or a kiss. Most of the time you're happy to oblige, but sometimes you'll shake your head from side to side and say, "No," and move on to whatever it is you'd like to be doing at the time. The fact that you understand much of what we say to you now is one of the most amazing milestones of your second year. Another one is your developing communication skills, and what you can do just blows me away.

These days you can say, "Mama/Mommy," "Dada/Daddy," "dog," "hat," "bubble," "no," "belly," "hi," "bye," "key," "duck," "booo" (for blueberry), "broom" (which sounds more like "boom"), "vrroom" when you see a car, and "naaaneee" when you want a banana. And just yesterday you started trying to say, "cracker" and "cake," or "caca" and "cuk."

We've also been teaching you baby sign language as you learn to speak. I have to admit, there have been times when I've wondered if the signing is sinking in, and then all of a sudden you'll surprise me. One day in the car you decided you were hungry and started shouting "Naaaneee! Nanneee!" and making your version of the sign for banana. Another day you were in the tub and you pointed to the rubber ducky fireman protector thing we've got over the tub nozzle and you started saying, "du, du," and were looking back and forth between me and the duck and making the sign for duck. I was thrilled, and I clapped and cheered for you and made the sign back to you. Signing has definitely helped both of us better understand each other.

In addition to "duck" and "banana," the other signs you know right now are, "eat," "milk," "more," "dog," "hat," "all gone" and we're working on "cat." You've made the sign before and pointed to one, but you classify most things with four legs and a tail in your world as "dog." And who can blame you? You're around dogs all the time and it's a fun sign to make, what with the wagging your hand and panting and all.

We've had a fun summer, me and you. I'm home with you full-time now, and I love it. I think you like it too. We've had some great times and travels this summer (which I'll chronicle in another post), and I look forward to whatever adventures the fall and winter will bring.

Love,

Mom

Swim. Bike. Run. Done!

2010-07-01T08:43:00.000-07:00

The observant among you may have noticed that I made some changes to the right hand side of the blog awhile back, and if you were able to tear your eyes away from the picture of the world's most adorable little boy with his stunningly gorgeous mother and made it to the end of the description you may be wondering when it was exactly that I lost my mind.

I wish I could tell you, but I don't really know myself. I think it is sort of like when I decided to do my first half marathon several years ago. I just woke up one day and decided I wanted to do it. There were the requisite few weeks of hemming and hawing, tossing the idea around in my head, chewing on it with my husband and my friends. And then I just decided, what the hell? Let's do a triathlon. Because, as one friend pointed out, chasing a toddler around just wasn't enough exercise for me.

I finished the triathlon on 6/19, (click for more pictures) and I have to say that it was an amazing experience. I can see how people become addicted to this sport. There's a lot of variety and challenge, and it's just FUN. That's what I tell people when they ask me how it went -- I had a lot of fun!

I didn't blog much about my 8-week training experience because, quite frankly, I didn't have time. Between finishing up work (I am now a stay-at-home-mom, or "SAHM" for those of you savvy with Internet message board acronyms, but that's another post for another time), running after my now-walking toddler, and fitting in four or five training workouts a week, I was just a wee bit exhausted this spring and didn't feel much like writing about it when it was all over at night.

I'm going to come clean here and say that the triathlon I did last weekend was a sprint distance (250m swim, 14 mile bike ride, 3.1 mile run), which I know is not even a blip on the badass meter of true athletes. Hence my description as a wannabe triathlete. And never have I felt like such a newb as when I walked into a swanky tri sports store to pick up some gear.

Actually, I ended up in a bike specialty store first. I wandered around clueless for 20 minutes looking at a gazillion black bike shorts before asking for help. I'd googled around and knew I was looking for tri shorts, something specifically made for swimming, running and biking, something that dried quickly and had a chamois. Now, let me pause a moment here and say that I took five years of French. During my online research, when I first read the word, "chamois," in my head I pronounced it "SH-ah-moi."Again, five years of French okay? When I asked the guy at bike store about tri shorts, he told me they didn't have them and spent 10 minutes telling me why I specifically wanted tri shorts, saying something about a "sha-mē," and I didn't hear any of what he said because I was stuck on "sha-mē." Sha-mē, sha-mē, sha-mē. It took me a minute. Ohhhh. Chamois. *Duh.*

I don't mind airing my stupidity here, because each time I've told this story in real life the last few weeks, the listener has always responded with something he or she misinterpreted, and it makes me feel better. Take, for example, one of my friends, who rolled up to a local yoga studio advertising "Bikram Hot Yoga." She thought, "okay, hot, trendy, that's cool." So she went in for a class. Yeah, wasn't she surprised?

But I digress.

I eventually found my way to the tri store, aka "Lycra Wonderland." The only way I can describe this experience is that it was a horrible hybrid of shopping for jeans and shopping for a bathing suit. Lyrca hides nothing and squeezes in all the wrong places. It was punishing, really, because tri stuff is supposed to fit snugly, but for someone new to the sport, the line between "snug" and "are you kidding me?!" is fuzzy at best. So I pulled on my first pair of shorts, and if they could have talked, I think they'd have said, "You've clearly given birth and have a lifelong, passionate devotion to frozen yogurt. Please try again."

And it just got worse from there.

I'm a little broader in the shoulders than the average gal of my height, and at one point I actually got myself stuck inside one of the tri tops as I was trying to pull the damn thing off over my head. Seriously, my face was stuck in the bra compartment as I hopped around with my arms over my head trying to claw the thing up off my back. It may have only been a few minutes, but I actually worked up a sweat, partly because I was so afraid someone was going accidentally pull back the dressing room curtain at that exact moment (because of course there are only two dressing rooms in the whole place) and I would have spontaneously combusted from embarrassment. And of course all of that made it even more difficult to pry myself out of that Lycra death trap, forcing me to pause and talk myself down for a minute.

To make what is already a long story short(er), after dozens of combinations of tri tops and bottoms, and a lot of intentional jumping around to see what and/or how much was jiggling where I hoped it wouldn't, I eventually decided on some stuff that didn't make me look quite like a sporty Michelin man in drag and was on my way.

Fast forward a few weeks, and it is race day. Race day! I love race days. I arrived at 6:30 a.m., even though I was scheduled to start my swim until at least 8:45. I got all inked up with my body numbers, managed to get a coveted spot on the end of one of the bike racks in the transition area, then started chatting up people nearby to find out if I indeed needed to worry about coming in last. It turns out I did not. There were people of all ages and all abilities at this thing, and I saw bikes that ranged from serious, $4K and $5K tri bikes to rusted out Huffys. Next to me on the bike rack was a 67-year-old woman with a fat tired cruiser looking thing, just beyond her was a 70-something-year-old man with and Ironman tattoo on his bicep and a fancy pants looking road bike, and scattered throughout the rest of the rack were some young guys and a few women about my age with nice but not super fancy-looking bikes. I figured the 70-something guy had the Ironman tattoo for a reason, and that he'd probably beat me (I was right), but I was pretty sure I at least had it all over the 67-year-old woman, so I wasn't going to come in dead last (also right). Yay for me.

I started my swim out way too fast, mostly because I started feeling a little jittery and ready to get this thing going. When my lungs felt like they were going to burst out of my chest I backed off my pace a bit, then picked it back up towards the end.

I was a little pokey during my first transition, but managed to get onto the bike course. It was actually a pleasant course, mostly lonely, bucolic country roads. I actually had to remind myself a few times that I wasn't out for an easy Sunday ride, and I should perhaps focus more on speeding up than taking in all of the scenery. At one point, while going downhill, I stopped peddling for about 1/2 a second, and a woman in yellow whizzed by me and shouted, "Come on! You can do it, girl!" Uh, okay. And later, around mile 10, I took another 1/2 second peddle break, and a big, muscly guy shot past me and yelled, "Keep peddling! Don't give up now! You can do it!"

All I could think was, "I know." I mean, I knew I could do it, I was doing it, wasn't I? I was just stopping to take it all in for a moment. Like Ferris Bueller said,"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Take down the encouragement a notch, people. I was doing just fine.

Until I got to the end of the bike ride. Let me just stop and say that I was under the impression that one is supposed to hustle in the transition areas. No time to waste, seconds on the clock, that sort of thing. So as I cruised into the second transition area and hopped off my bike, I started jogging with it a little bit as I made my way toward the big blow up entry tube chute thingy. The entry thing had plenty of room for two people, and the woman ahead of me -- mid-life, larger person -- was moving rather slowly. Walking is too fast to describe her pace, really. It was more of an amble. So I move over to the left and start to pass her, again under the impression that this was a race and people were supposed to hustle, okay? I guess she didn't like that very much because she angled her bike tire and cut me off as we were going through the entry chute thingy, pushing me over so that the front wheel of my bike snagged the chute and because I was already had some momentum going and all of a sudden I am dragging the chute with me into the transition area. Holy crap, talk about embarrassing. Not to mention that I thought for sure this little incident had disqualified me. To that woman I say, Karma is a Bitch. And, I looked up your time and I beat you in the end. So there.Moments before the "incident."

I spent the entire running portion of the tri thinking I might be disqualified, and I'd better hurry it up and get to the finish line so I could find out. (I wasn't.) The trail wasn't quite as breathtaking as the bike route, but it was shaded by trees the entire way and there were plenty of water stops, so I can't complain. I will say that it felt like a pretty long 5K, but I suppose that's to be expected because I'd done a bit of work beforehand, no? I crossed the finish line feeling pretty pleased with myself, and after some water, Gatorade, and a hug and kiss from my most adorable baby, I already found myself thinking about maybe, possibly, sometime soon doing another one of these things sometime soon.

Official finishing time: 1:35:29

There's another local race in August, and I plan to sign up. Besides, I need to stay in training. Bill promised me that if I do a 1/2 Ironman before I'm 40, we can go back to Hawaii. You better belive I'm holding him to it.

Note what my hat says. That's right, keeping my eye on the prize...

Swimming Lessons

2010-06-18T18:52:00.000-07:00

It wouldn't be summer if we didn't spend some time in the pool, and Nolan is becoming quite the swimmer. I'm a big believer that swimming is one of those life safety skills that you need to have so ingrained on your brain that it becomes a reflex, sort of like looking both ways before you cross the street. So I want to make sure my kid is comfortable in the water from a very early age. Watch out, Michael Phelps!

Nolan's First Swimming Lessons from Kathleen on Vimeo.

This is how we read our books and put on our shoes

2010-06-06T08:59:00.000-07:00

Not that there was every really much doubt, since I was there when he was born and remember it all very vividly, but during the last couple of weeks Nolan has once again demonstrated that he is my son.

I've mentioned before that he loves to "read" or, in his case, flip through one of his little books and look at the pictures or have someone read to him. We FINALLY got it on tape, thanks to the stealth of one amazing Christine, who came to visit us at the end of last month. Seriously, this kid has become such a ham that usually when the video camera comes out he drops everything and heads right toward it for his close up.

Cue the "Reading Rainbow" theme song from Kathleen on Vimeo.

I've loved books for as long as I can remember. I loved browsing through the library as a kid and taking out stacks of books, and more than once I got in trouble in school for reading my book below my desk when I was supposed to be doing something else. As an adult, I belong to book club that meets every month, and the profile picture for our Facebook group is a pair of glasses and the words "Book Nerd," if that tells you anything. I am very much looking forward to the day when Nolan and I can discuss books, or at the very least he can say the words below the pictures of his favorite books, currently a book about trucks, "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus," "Handy Lamb," and "Time For Bed."

Chris also was able to catch Nolan trying to put on his shoes by himself for the first time.

This is how we put on our shoes from Kathleen on Vimeo.

I've always had an appreciation for cute shoes, so much so that when we were kids my sister once asked Chris during a shopping trip if we could please cross the street because there was a shoe store coming up with some funky shoes and she knew I'd want them. I don't know if Nolan will have quite the same passion for shoes as I do, but he does seem to enjoy going into my closet and pulling my shoes off the shoe rack and tossing them to the floor. I'm quite sure one day he'll likely try on a pair of my shoes (much to his father's dismay, I'm sure), because I think all kids -- girls or boys -- like to try putting on grown-up shoes at some point before the age of six. And really, when it comes to women's shoes vs. men's shoes, there is no real comparison. We've got it all over men's shoes when it come to color, style, variety, and the sound factor -- it's so much more fun to clompity-clomp across a hardwood floor in a pair of heals than in Daddy's stinky sneakers or boring work oxfords. I can only hope I have the video camera nearby, and that Nolan has the foresight to choose a pair of kitten heels for a nice combo of sound and walkability.

But is it art?

2010-05-07T13:22:00.000-07:00

I introduced Nolan to crayons and these toddler paint things called "Tadoodles" the other day, and this was the result. I admit to helping with a good bit of the scribbling (and the writing of his name), but he did get the hang of it and did some of the scribbling and "painting" himself. Of course, after awhile he wanted to eat the crayons and throw the Tadoodles because they're shaped like balls.

And then he noticed an actual ball nearby and art time was over.

Birthday Cake FAIL

2010-04-15T10:21:00.000-07:00

I'd like to start this post with a picture of my child happy on his birthday. Here he is cuddling with his new birthday bear. Awww.

Because the rest of the story is all downhill from here.

Those of you who know me know that I'm pretty particular when it comes to what my kid eats. I prefer to give him fresh food, I try to avoid a lot of processed stuff, and I give him organics when possible. I'm perversely proud that white bread has yet to pass his lips.

Last week I did a test run of a "healthy" carrot birthday cake recipe that involved using raisins and applesauce and such instead of sugar. Yep, it sounds about as tasty as it was. No one in our household was impressed. Even Murphy, our canine garbage disposal, took a few extra seconds sniffing up the suspectness of it all before gulping down a bite. She didn't stick around to see if there was more, which is how I knew my "good for you" cake was really just good for the garbage can.

So on Tuesday, Nolan's birthday, the memories of my culinary failure must have pushed me over the edge and forced me to wake up with someone else's brain because I decided I was going to have him try some real birthday cake that night. I was going to let him indulge in some refined sugary tastiness, because if I didn't surely someone else would down the line, and then he'll be all, MOTHER, WHY DID YOU DEPRIVE ME?!

So I had Bill pick up a cake on his way home. After dinner, we lit the candle, sang Happy Birthday, and decided to let him just go for it.

He put his fingers in it...

but much to our surprise he didn't really seem all that impressed. He played with it a little bit, but didn't try to put his fingers to his mouth. We gave him a little slice to play with instead, and after a few minutes we realized we'd made a mistake.

A big mistake. A big, big mistake. Epic, really.

Hey, it's his party, and he'll cry if he wants to.

Happy Birthday, Nolan!

2010-04-13T05:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Nolan,

Happy Birthday! You are one year old today! And guess what. You're still alive! I'm still alive! And your Dad is still alive! Hooray!

There were days this past year when I couldn't for the life of me figure out how we were all going to get from one bleary-eyed, fuzzy-headed, sleep-deprived, exhausting day to the next, much less picture our lives at your first birthday. But we're here, and look at how far we've come! I could wax all sentimental about how you've grown and changed, but I think I've already covered much of your development in my letters to you this year. Instead, I'll show you how much you've grown and changed.

Nolan's first year from Kathleen on Vimeo.

If there weren't the pictures to prove it, I'm not sure I'd believe you were ever that small. But you were, and watching you grow has been the most amazing experience of my life. You continue to grow in leaps and bounds, Puppy. You're officially a toddler now, both in age and mobility. You are up and walking whenever you get the chance, and you can make it clear across the room on your own now with your hands out in front of you and those adorable, herky-jerky frankenbaby steps. Your Dad and I love to play "I'm going to get you!" which basically is me or your Dad "chasing" you while you toddle over to the other one of us, laughing, and hide your face in our knees.

We purchased your first real pair of walking shoes this month, cute little brown, blue and orange ones from Stride Rite. When we took them out of the box, you picked one of them up, looked at it, and then tried to lick the sole. I told you that "shoes are for walking, not licking," but even weeks later you still don't seem to believe me. Really, it's kind of cute now, but a little word of advice -- you don't want to be that kid in kindergarten, okay?

Your first real pair of shoes also means we can do more outside with you, and you love to be outside. Now that the weather is warmer, we take a walk with you and the dogs after dinner almost every evening, and I'm pretty sure you'd swing for hours in the baby swings at the park if we kept pushing you. Your Dad and I have taken you down the slides at the park already, and from the look of pure delight on your face I know that once you're able to climb up and go down the slides yourself it is going to be tough to get you off of the playground.

You love to play with balls, and you'll push and chase one around the room for several minutes. , Lately you've been raising a ball above your head and dropping it forward a little bit, almost as if you're trying to throw it. I throw balls up in the air for you, so maybe you're trying to imitate me? Another thing you've started doing is rolling the ball back and forth to me while we sit facing each other on the ground. This entertains both of us for quite awhile some days. And, as of this week, you seem to be channeling some sort of inner David Beckham and are making little kicking motions when you encounter a ball on the ground. Just a guess, but this may have something to do with the fact that sometimes I'll lift you up by your trunk a and swing your legs forward like a little fooz ball man to "kick" across the room. I think it's hilarious, mostly because it makes you grin and giggle.

You've also become much more chatty in the last few weeks, and on April 8 you said, "mama" for the first time! My heart melted like butter, even though you were looking off in the distance at the coffee table, or the dog, or whatever happened to be in front of you at the time. You've had the "mmmm" sound down for awhile, and even the "aaahhh" sound, but it wasn't until last week that you put them together to make that wonderful combination, "mama." You've also mastered "gaga" and "baba," and you frequently string together your sounds as if you're trying to tell me something. "Mama mama, gaga mama bbbbaaababapffft!" Sometimes I speak similar nonsense back to you, other times I just pretend we're having a conversation and talk to you in full sentences. "You're right, peas ARE delicious!"

We're having a little party for you on Saturday, and I'm really excited about it. I promised myself I wouldn't go overboard for a party you wouldn't remember, but I'm just so excited to celebrate how much joy you've brought to our lives and so many others. I may be inching my toe into the overboard realm on Saturday, but hey, a little overboard can be a lot of fun!

You are such a happy, healthy and inquisitive child, Nolan. We are so blessed to have you in our lives. As always, I look forward to what tomorrow will bring for us. And no matter how tall, big, and strong you grow, you'll always be my baby. Happy Birthday, sweetheart.

Love,
Mom

The Great Easter Egg Hunt

2010-04-02T17:12:00.000-07:00

Nolan and his little friend Parker attended their first Easter egg hunt this morning at the nearby park. Really it wasn't so much of a "hunt" as it was an Easter egg free-for-all, given that the Easter eggs were scattered on several baseball fields in plain sight. And whoever decided to have the parents and children stand behind imaginary lines on the fields while making 10 minutes of town announcements really needs to spend an afternoon or 12 with a toddler to remember that these are creatures of immediate gratification and don't really understand why they have to wait when THE EGGS ARE RIGHT OVER THERE!

Overall, the Egg free-for-all went as well as could be expected with a child who is just starting to master his land legs. I had a Mommy FAIL moment when we first got to the park and realized that I didn't bring a basket to collect eggs, but luckily that turned out not to be a problem.

The Great Easter Egg Hunt from Kathleen on Vimeo.

Yes, that's right -- thousands of eggs littered those fields, and we left with ONE.

Just one.

A basket would have been overkill.

11 month letter

2010-03-25T18:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Nolan,

4,897.

Give or take.

That's how many long-distance miles you've logged by car and/or plane since your birth. That number doesn't count daily car trips and such, just the faraway distances we've traveled together. That's some pretty impressive mobility for someone who is just beginning to master walking!

I started thinking about it the other night during the wee hours of the morning as we drove back from a weekend in New York. In the last 11 months you've visited four different states (South Carolina, New York, Maine and Massachusetts). And if we're counting "drive through" states, you can add Virgina, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey and New Hampshire to your list.

I'm glad you're already a well-traveled kid, and I hope you catch the travel bug from me. There is so much to see and experience in this world, so many people to meet and so much to do, and I want you to have a sense of discovery and wonder about it all. You seemed to enjoy all the new faces and places last weekend, and although I could tell you were overwhelmed, you did remarkably well during your aunt and uncle's party on Saturday and our visit to Nana and Grandpa's home on Sunday. When it all got to be too much, you just crawled up on my or your Dad's lap, then looked out at everyone You took in the crowds and eased into the experiences at your own pace, and even made some friends, like this little guy, Chase.

The two of you seemed pretty excited to meet someone else your size, and you were both fumbling around like you were trying to give each other a hug. It was adorable!

Traveling can be such an adventure and so much fun, and I'm looking forward to exploring different places with you as you grow up. One day I hope to receive postcards and letters you've written from exciting places telling me and your Dad all about where you've been and the people you've met.

Just as an aside, in case you're reading this sometime in the future, do you know what is really fun? When your mother comes to visit you when you're traveling or studying abroad in some really cool place. Because she'll buy you and your friends dinner, then stock up your fridge. She'll catch a show with you, or visit landmarks and other interesting places with you that maybe you haven't had a chance to see yet, but her visit provides you with the perfect opportunity. And she won't be in your way. Nope, she'll let you go about doing your thing in whatever wonderful, exciting, foreign locale you find yourself in, while she does her own thing. Just do me a favor and keep that in mind sometime for the future, okay?

While I hope to instill a love for travel in you, I also hope I can give you some strong roots as well. Because as much fun as traveling is, there's a lot to be said for having a sense of home. Rather than tying you down, a sense of home actually gives you more freedom, I think. You can and want to leave to explore because you know you can always come back.

Speaking of exploring, any day now you're going to be fully mobile. You took your first two independent steps on March 6, then tumbled into my lap. You did it before you even realized you were doing it, and I cheered and clapped for you like crazy. In the weeks that followed you continued to cruise the furniture, and transfer from the couch to the coffee table, one kitchen chair to another, but always with one hand securely resting on one piece of furniture before grabbing the other. It is only in the last few days that you've taken a few more little steps on your own, but now you definitely know what you're doing. Your Dad and I still cheer and clap each time, and your face just beams in delight as you fall into our arms.

I hope you never lose the natural curiosity you have for exploration, or your confidence and determination to do so. Your Dad and I will always be here for you to come home to.

Love,

Mom

10 month letter

2010-02-23T05:05:00.001-08:00

Dear Nolan,

Last week you turned 10 months old -- we've entered double digits! An exciting milestone to be sure. This month has been full of milestones for you, Puppy. Most of them are very exciting, but at least one that gave me a moment of heart failure.

You've already mastered pulling yourself up and cruising, but this month you figured out you could also do so on the rails of your crib. The first time you did this you shook the rail and caused such a racket that I came flying into your room because I was certain the crib had fallen apart. But you were just standing there, grinning at your latest discovery and ready to get up from your nap.

Another new move you've learned this month is waving "hello," much to my delight and everyone around you. It started out with you just sticking your arm into the air with your hand semi-closed and cocked forward, almost as if you'd just shot a basket and were lingering with the follow through. This little move, along with your accompanying smile, captivated a group of people in the frozen food aisle at the grocery store one afternoon, and I figured soon you'd actually be waving. Just five days later, you very distinctly waved hello to the instructor at our Friday Mommy & Me class, and we both just about fell over from the adorableness of it all.

You've also started raising both hands over your head, and the first time you did it you were so proud of yourself that you kept doing it over and over again. And we kept cheering you on each time. I'm not sure if you picked it up from the "So big!" game, or the Hawaiian rainbow song I sing to you, but one day while I was putting away clothes and humming "Hawaiian rainbow," I looked over to where you were playing with your toys and you had both hands up over your smiling face!

Shortly after you discovered waving and raising up your hands, you figured out clapping, which is hilarious. Your claps are always accompanied by a lot of body wiggling back and forth and a mile-wide grin that lights up your eyes and the faces of anyone nearby. I feel blessed to have such a happy kid!

Of course, you're not happy all the time, and there were a few days this month when you were very unhappy due to your first ever real illness. We had 9+ months without you being sick, but this month you developed an ear infection that made you pretty miserable for a few days. You were running a fever and just feeling rather blah, and all you wanted to do was rest on my chest. I spent the better part of a weekend just sitting on the couch and snuggling with you, while you either slept or looked out on the living room with wide, forlorn eyes.

You were sick the weekend we had our first real snowstorm of the season, so we didn't really get a chance to play with you in the snow. We brought you out into the front yard for a few minutes, but I think you just felt so miserable that you weren't at all impressed with the white stuff covering the ground. In retrospect, you also may have been annoyed at the dozens of layers I put you in, making you like a baby Michelin man. Sorry about that.

Your appetite came back once you started to feel better, and along with it came more of a desire to feed yourself and eat crunchier, more solid foods that you can sink your gums into. I was so excited the first day you fed yourself a Cheerio, and then continued to feed yourself a Cheerio, that I tweeted about it to the world. You're becoming quite adept at using your fingers and hands to grasp and eat food now, and you eat best when you're sitting at the table with us while we eat.

By the way, it turns out that all the baby books that tell me to keep offering you foods that you initially reject are right. Often you'll reject something several times before you decide you actually like it. Much to my surprise, the other day you finally decided that you liked cheddar and monterey cheeses, and you ate several small cubes right up, then banged your high chair tray to ask for more. You also love bread, and once again it is clear that you are my child -- give me some good cheese, a hunk of good bread, and some good wine, and I'm a happy camper for dinner. (Don't get any ideas about the wine just yet...)

For the Love of Bread from Kathleen on Vimeo.

We love you so much, Nolan. You make every day of our lives so much sweeter.

Love,

Mom

Opportunist

2010-01-25T19:04:00.000-08:00

Nolan is becoming more independent about feeding himself, which means more of a mess at mealtime. Thankfully, Murphy has volunteered to be on clean up duty.

Color us flattered!

2010-01-14T18:40:00.000-08:00

I just saw a post on Facebook from Nicole Faby Photography about a photo contest Nicole is having for her pictures from 2009, and she selected this 3 month photo of Nolan as one of her entries!

This is my blog, and I can blog whatever I want to, so today I'm going to use it as a platform to shamelessly solicit votes for Nolan's picture in this contest. Click on this link to vote. Scroll down to the "What was your favorite 2009 photo?!" link under the last picture and click on it. It will take you to the voting site.

I've written about how wonderful Nicole is before, and I would highly recommend her to folks in Raleigh looking for a down-to-earth, fun and talented photographer. Please check out her Web site and her contest site because, while it would be fun for us to win this contest, I like to spread the word about great local businesses and send traffic their way whenever I can. Now, go vote!

9 month letter

2010-01-13T18:13:00.001-08:00

Dear Nolan,

Congratulations! As of today, you've now been outside as long as you were on the inside!

I know I've said it over and over again, but you are getting so big. We won't get your official stats from the pediatrician until your appointment on Friday, but I estimate you're at least 21 pounds and 27 inches long. The other night your Dad asked me, "Could you imagine carrying him now, at his current size?" I think I actually felt my uterus shriek in protest.

I decided to do your 9 month p ictures myself with my fancy pants SLR camera, and as I was editing the pictures I happened to click on the folder containing the images from your newborn photo shoot. I teared up remembering how teeny tiny you were just nine short months ago, and how all you seemed to want to do was sleep on my chest curled up in a tiny ball with my arms around you. Back then I was afraid you'd never sleep anywhere else, but I'm glad I let myself relax and enjoy the closeness of those moments because now you thrash about in your crib at night and sleep spread out like a starfish. Sometimes you'll still fall asleep on me when I'm holding you and rocking you in the glider, and I love those moments, too. It takes everything in me to let you go and put you in your crib.

As I mentioned in my last letter, you're very much enjoying your newfound mobility. Now that you've mastered pulling up you want to do it all the time and on everything -- furniture, stairs, toys, my pant legs, it doesn't matter.

Even if something is only slightly elevated, you give it a try. The other day I caught you balancing yourself on your little toy piano in a downward dog stance, your legs perfectly straight and baby booty high up in the air. (And where exactly did you think you were going once you were in that position?) When you're upright, you also have no fear of letting go of one thing to reach for another, and you don't seem to mind when you miss and fall on your bottom. You just get up and try again.

And, now that you're in motion, of course you want to stay in motion. I told your father the other day that if we ever needed some extra income I could always do a little bit of alligator wrestling on the side, because it can't be any more difficult than getting diaper on your behind these days.

You're such a happy, curious child, and like any individual you have your own opinions on things. We've noticed in the last month or so that you've really started finding ways to express those opinions, especially about food. Rather than try to explain what I mean with words, I decided it would be more fun to show you:

Nolan the Gourmet from Kathleen on Vimeo.

I even gave it a title: Nolan the Gourmet.

You make our lives so much more fun and interesting, Puppy. Your curiosity fuels our creativity, and reminds us that even the simplest things in this world can be wondrous. I love you.

Love, Mom

Mayor of Toyville

2010-01-09T19:30:00.000-08:00

She rules with an iron paw.

The Song That Never Ends

2010-01-04T06:02:00.000-08:00

You know how annoying it is when you get a song stuck in your head and it won't go away? How it rattles around in your brain for hours, or maybe even a day or so, and just won't quit? Yeah, as bad as I used to think it was when a pop song or a commercial jingle took up temporary residence in my cranium, I've discovered that having a kid song stuck up in there is worse. They're simple, cute, and easy to remember -- a surefire recipe for annoying persistence.

Actually, of the two of us, Bill was the first one to discover this side effect of parenthood. A few months ago he was busted in the break room by one of his co-workers for unconsciously whistling the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." And now, it seems, my day has come.

Nolan doesn't watch television, but occasionally I will pull up a Sesame Street video on the Internet and we'll watch a few minutes of it together. He seems to enjoy it, doing his little baby dance shake in my lap. But really it started as more for me than for him. My repertoire of kid songs is somewhat limited, so I figured checking out the occasional video clip on Sesame Street might be a good way to learn some new ones.

Apparently my plan worked a little too well, because for the last three days Adam Sandler's "This is the Song About Elmo" has been playing over, and over, and over, and OVER again in my head. It's cute. It's catchy. But I swear it's viral. You've been warned. Click at your own risk.

8 month letter

2009-12-31T07:45:00.001-08:00

Dear Nolan,

You've been all about the milestones this holiday season! On Nov. 27 you took your first few little hops forward on your knees, and a week later, on Dec. 4, you put it all together for the first time and started crawling forward. By Dec. 8 you were making your way across a room, and by Christmas you were a pro.

You didn't stop there, though. The day after Christmas you pulled yourself up to a standing position at the back storm door. Once up, you turned your head to look at me with an adorable open-mouthed grin and eyes shining with delight -- "Look what I can do, Mom!!!" The next day, you discovered the bottom step on our staircase, pulled yourself up on it, and cruised two steps on your own! And tonight you actually walked two steps behind the walker lion toy Grandma and Grandpa gave you for Christmas. I figured once you started crawling it wouldn't be long until you were trying to walk, but I didn't expect it all to happen within the same month!

There is no stopping you now. You are all about pulling up and trying to cruise these days. And when you really want to get somewhere, you just get down on all fours and go after it. A whole new world has opened up to you. Things you could only look at before are now within your reach. And your curiosity abounds. "Ooh! The dogs' toys! The dogs' bowls! The dogs' water dish!" Are you picking up on a pattern, here?

Maggie and Murphy don't seem as concerned about your new found mobility as I thought they'd be. Your Great Aunt Christine and I, however, quickly installed a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs, and there is a stack of baby-proofing items and another baby gate in the garage waiting to be installed. I want to let you explore the world, Puppy, but I also want you to be safe. Still, I think it is hilarious when you pull yourself up on the bars of the baby gate and start shaking it. "What is this injustice?! Let me be free to climb the stairs!"

I think the dogs were a big motivation for you when it came to crawling and pulling up. After all, you've been watching them saunter around on all fours since the day we brought you home from the hospital. It must have been maddening for you, really. The day you put it all together and started crawling, you headed straight for your fellow quadrupeds. Luckily Mags and Murph are very tolerant of you, and we're trying to teach you to be gentle with them -- no grabbing fur, or tails, or ears. I only let you touch them if you're sitting in my lap so I can hold your hand flat out to stroke their heads or their bodies. Maggie usually just sits there giving us the "Really, this is what my life has come to?" side eye, but Murphy likes to show her appreciation by licking your head. You absolutely love this, giggling and smiling when she comes after you with that super tongue of hers.

In addition to the amazing strides you've made with crawling and cruising (sorry, I couldn't resist -- get it, strides?) you also had your other bottom middle incisor tooth pop through on Nov. 26. And this afternoon on the changing table I noticed that you're cutting both of your upper middle incisor teeth!

We're slowly introducing finger foods to you, and you're getting better and better at gumming small morsels now, such as a puff or a Cheerio. But you don't seem to have all that much interest in feeding yourself just yet. No matter what I offer you, you usually just grab it, play with it, then drop it back on your highchair tray, your lap or the floor. All that playing is helping to develop your pincer grip though, and at times you've been able to get a puff in your hand and bring it to your mouth, but getting food from your hand into your mouth is still a bit of a conundrum for you. Like crawling and pulling up, I know it will all come together for you in time, and probably much faster than I expect.

I so enjoy watching all of your little neurons firing away as you make connections about the world and how to do things each and every day. You made 2009 such an amazing year for us, Nolan. And as I sit here on the eve of 2010, I find myself more excited than I've ever been to start a new year because you are a part of our lives. We love you so much!

Love,

Mom

Much to be thankful for

2009-12-03T05:23:00.001-08:00

So my Thanksgiving post is a week late. So what? Let's just be thankful that it's not more than a week late. Family + Work + Regular Life x Holidays = Really Freaking Busy. But I did take some time last weekend to reflect on what I am truly thankful for, namely our continued health and happiness and that of our wonderful family and friends. We love all of you, and are so happy that you are part of our lives.

We had a very enjoyable Thanksgiving weekend, one that didn't involve driving anywhere more than a few miles away. [Insert deep sigh of relief here.] As much as we missed out families up north and would have loved to have seen everyone, doing Thanksgiving Lite this year was nice -- I ran a local Turkey Trot in the morning with some friends, then Bill, Nolan and I went home and all took a nap. Later we had a quiet dinner with Bill's parents. Nolan had his first taste of turkey over the weekend, but didn't seem overly impressed. I can't blame him -- I doubt pureed turkey would do it for me either. Close to 3,000 people attended the Turkey Trot. Obviously we were the most attractive people there.

Bill and Nolan played photographer throughout most of the race. That is until Nolan started having a meltdown just few minutes before I was about to cross the finish line. Have I mentioned this kid has great timing?

Who? Me? Meltdown? You must be joking. I would do no such thing.

Kids decorated the straightaway with sidewalk chalk while the race was in progress.

Turkey meets baby bear. I think the baby bear weighs more.

The rest of the weekend was spent puttering around the house, occasionally throwing up a Christmas decoration here or there when the mood struck. We've decided to stick with what works and do Christmas Lite as well. There will still be a Christmas tree, some outside lights, stockings and a few other Christmas-y things around the house, but I don't feel the need to pull out every single holiday decoration we own this year (see equation above).

7 month letter

2009-11-24T07:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Nolan,

You are seven months and 11 days old, and as your mother I'm telling you to stop growing up so quickly! Every day you look just a little more like a little boy instead of a baby. Some mornings I'm almost afraid to look in your crib for fear of finding a teenager in there.

You've pretty much outgrown most of your 9 month clothes, and have moved on to 12 month sizes. Everyone tells me that your growth should start leveling off soon, but I'll believe it when I see it. In the meantime, I am developing some killer arm muscles, because you don't realize how big you are at 20 pounds and 2.5 ounces, and you still love to be carried by me, especially if we've been apart for the day.

Thankfully, one thing that still fits you is your bear suit, which is a warm and snuggly one-piece winter suit that looks like (you guessed it) a bear costume. You may want to die of embarrassment later in your life as you look back at pictures from your childhood, but lately we've been dressing you in the bear suit for weekend races because it is one of the warmest things you own. We put you in it last Saturday when your Dad ran a local 5K (he'd want me to mention that it was his fastest time 5K time since college, 18:56) and people kept coming over to tell me what an adorable little teddy bear you were.

Speaking of specialty suits and potentially embarrassing childhood photos, you rocked a beautiful white suit at your baptism two weeks ago, thanks to Nana and Aunt Sue. They picked it out for you special and had it sent to us. Not many people can pull off white -- and you looked a little like the Pope with your white suit, white overcoat, white hat and your white slippers that kept falling off -- all that was missing was a baby-sized Pope-mobile -- but you looked so precious.

And although you were the youngest child being baptized that day, you were one of the very best behaved. You watched everyone and everything during the first part of ceremony very carefully with your big, wondering eyes, occasionally kicking your chubby legs out so that one or both of your shoes would fall to the ground, amusing you and keeping things interesting for me.

When it came time for the priest to put water on your head, you took it in stride, as if it were just an ordinary old bath time. Except with fancy clothes, a lot more people, a strange guy in a robe and minus the rubber ducky. I think you were getting a little bored towards the end of the ceremony though, because you stuck your hand in your mouth and started “talking” to and grinning at everyone around you.

When we got you home after the ceremony, you were the life of the party.

Several of your aunts and uncles made it for the baptism, as did both sets of grandparents, and they all had a wonderful time playing with you that weekend. They are all actually taking bets on when you’re going to crawl. I know I’ve been saying it for months, but you really are thisclose to crawling! The last couple of weeks you’ve been pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees and rocking back and forth, almost like you’re at the starting line of a race, but you’re just kind of hanging out at the “set” part of “Ready, set…GO!” honing your skills and planning for the moment of your breakaway stride. Just this morning Daddy found you on your hands and knees in your crib, rocking backing forth. I guess you wanted to get in some practice time before breakfast?

In addition to your starting line pose, you are now actively moving yourself from a sitting position to your belly or your hands and knees. You like to practice this move over and over, and should you make it to your belly or knees and get bored, you just roll over so you’re face up.

Your grip is becoming more refined as you rake your hand for an object, and you can now hold two different objects in each hand or transfer something from one hand to another. You’ve also discovered grabbing and tearing at paper, an activity that absolutely delights you. When you first pick up a piece of paper, you gaze intently at it at first, then smoosh it in your hands to hear and feel it crinkle. When you pull your hands apart and the paper tears your face just lights up, and you look up at Dad or me with a big smile and start to babble about your wonderful discovery.

You are definitely one curious explorer, Puppy. These days you really like to experiment with gravity, especially with your sippy cup when you’re in your high chair. You know what to do with the sippy cup and will put it up to your mouth to take a drink a few times when I first hand it to you, but merely drinking out if it so pedestrian! Throwing it on the floor to hear it clatter and watch the dogs run for cover is so much more interesting!

You’ve got a second tooth coming in, but it doesn’t seem to bother you all that much as long as you have something nearby to shove in your mouth and bite down on. Some of your favorite teething objects include your wooden blocks, your fingers (a classic), and my shoulder.

The eighth month mark is coming up fast, and we’ve got so much to look forward to, including Thanksgiving and the Christmas season. You make our lives so much sweeter, brighter and fun, Nolan. We love you so much.

Love,

Mom

Barnyard 101

2009-11-04T17:43:00.001-08:00

Earlier this evening, Bill announced he read the Moooo! entry today and that he had a bone to pick with me. Our conversation went like this:

Bill: "He had horns!"
Me: "What the hell are you talking about?"

Apparently I mistakenly told everyone that Nolan dressed up as a dairy cow for Halloween, when in fact he was a dairy bull. And then I proceeded to get schooled in Barnyard 101.

A dairy cow. Note her udders and lack of horns.

A dairy bull. Note his nubby little horns and lack of udders.

Oh, well, excuse me. I grew up in Queens, remember? The closest thing I ever saw to cattle were fat dogs. Regardless, now I finally understand why people find these signs to be funny.

Mooooo!

2009-10-28T05:19:00.000-07:00

For me, Halloween definitely ranks up there as one of those holidays that is more fun now that I have a kid. Last Saturday our neighborhood held its annual children's Halloween parade, and this year Bill and I actually got to participate instead of just cheering from the sidelines and snarfing cupcakes at the end of the parade route. And what did our 18 pound chunk-a-baby dress up as? A dairy cow! I thought it appropriate because Nolan really, really likes milk (not cow's milk, obviously, but being a breastfeeding Mom I occasionally feel like a dairy cow, so it all kind of comes full circle, no?) and because he's able to make the "mmmm" sound, which is pretty close to "Moo" when you're six months old.

As if dressing up our child as a farm animal once in a weekend wasn't enough, we put the costume on him again on Sunday for the 2009 Raleigh Monster Dash. I ran with Nolan in the jogging stroller for the mile dash, and Bill did the 5K. (And I'd just like to say that running uphill for even just a half mile pushing an 18 pound baby in a 20 pound jogging stroller is really, really hard. But the downhill was fun!) Nolan was a sport and "talked" the entire time he was on the course. I like to think he was cheering for the other runners and their kids. Or maybe he was just babbling and grunting "Faster! Faster! Mush! Mush!" at me. Bill won his age group in the 5K, and even legged out someone dressed as the Flash on the straightaway.

With Halloween this Saturday, we get to dress up Nolan at least once more in his costume. Too bad it probably won't fit the next time Chik-Fil-A runs one of their "Moo for a sandwich" promotions!

Halloween Parade

Cow meets monkey. "Hey man, I love your costume!"

The monkey even brought along some bananas!

You mean I get to wear this costume again next weekend? Gee, promise?

2009 Monster Dash

Do you think anyone would notice if I just hopped a ride on the back of this thing during the downhill section of the course?

Hanging out with Jay, Heather and Luke before the race.

Amy ran 12 miles earlier that morning and then came out to support us!

Nolan and Luke await the 5K finishers. With great anticipation, obviously.

Bill puts his game face on and darts past the Flash.

Nolan helped him accept his prize.

Families that run together sweat together.

Fall fun

2009-10-18T18:11:00.000-07:00

One of the many great things about having a kid is that you get to do a lot of stuff that maybe you talk about doing as an adult, but you never actually go out and do. Because, let's face it, the activity sounds more fun than it probably really is in reality. Take hay rides and pumpkin picking, for example. Sure, these activities sound fun as an adult, but there isn't the same kind of excitement to them as when they are seen through the eyes of a child.

Last weekend we took Nolan out to a local family farm and market, and we took a hayride out to their pumpkin patch. In addition to picking out some pumpkins, I took the opportunity to get some photos of Nolan at six months old. (Because is there a more adorable location than a pumpkin patch for a bald-headed, roly-poly, chubby-cheeked baby?) Along with his first hay ride and pumpkin picking experience, Nolan also got test out a tractor, ride a pony, and make friends with a donkey. Not bad for an afternoon on the farm!

Hanging with Mom during the hayride

Dad helping me set up a shot. "Uh, Dad? I don't think I'm supposed to sit on the pumpkin."

I call this one, "Indecision."

Maybe this one...

Yes, this is the one!

This is most definitely the one!

As my friend Katie T. said, "He skipped the tricycle and went straight to heavy farm equipment -- impressive!"

Look! Mom! They let me drive the tractor!

The owner of the farm was nice enough to give him a ride on her miniature pony.

And she introduced him to the pony's buddy, a donkey named Beaufort.

Nolan wasn't so sure what to make of the donkey!

Six month letter

2009-10-13T05:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Nolan,

You are six months old today -- six months! Half of a year! And we've all survived! Well, Maggie continues to remain questionable. She still gets very anxious whenever you cry, and when she comes to get us she gives us this pleading look like, "Again? You haven't figured out how to keep this kid quiet yet? You know, the neighbors next door seem to really like him, maybe he could go hang out there for awhile? You know, like, forever?"

You don't cry a lot, Puppy. In fact, for the most part you're a smiley, mellow kid. When we're out and about people often remark on how alert and goodnatured you are. Earlier this month on our way to Maine, you charmed everyone on the airplane and in the airports. You kept staring and smiling at the guy sitting next to us on the flight out. At one point he said to me, "He looks smart." And right after he said that, as if on cue, you grinned this big, silly grin, and ducked your head shyly into my shoulder. Not only are you adorable and smart, you've got great timing, kid.

Speaking of great timing, you've finally started sleeping better and thank goodness, because your Dad and I were about to lose it. You sleep 9+ hour stretches now at night, which is good for us and even better for you because the State Fair is in town and for awhile there in my half-crazed, sleep deprived haze I kept threatening to sell you to the carnies so you could run the rides all night long.

In addition to sleeping better, you've achieved a few other milestones worthy of your baby book. Let's start at the top of your adorable self and work our way down, shall we?

You've actually started growing hair! Your Dad and I were pretty convinced you'd sport the Telly Savalas look for awhile, but in the last four weeks you've definitely sprouted some serious fuzz on top of that perfectly round cue ball you have for a head. Even strangers have commented on the roundness of your head since the day you were born. That comes from me, by the way. One of your Dad's nicknames for me is "Pumpkin Head," so I've started calling you "Junior Pumpkin Head." The only downside to life with a perfectly proportioned head is that hat shopping can be a bit of a pain later in life.

Working our way down, you cut your first tooth on Sept. 29! Your Dad was the first to notice the little razor-like bump poking through lower left gum. You'd been chewing on your hands for quite awhile and drooling enough to fill a small swimming pool, so I'm glad to see that all of your intense effort was for something. However, I'm sorry to say that the tooth fairy doesn't come and leave something under your pillow until you lose that tooth later on in life. Seems kind of like a raw deal, doesn't it?

You still like to try and put everything in your mouth, and this month we've actually encouraged you to put foreign substances in there -- solid food! Well, as "solid" as a puree can be. I tried to hold out until six months, as recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics for breastfed babies, but you had other ideas. You've always been a good eater, but shortly after you turned five months old you started to eat a lot more -- and more, and more and more. And more. I figured it was a growth spurt, and good God how you've grown this past month, but when you repeatedly tried to snatch food from our plates, your eyes wide and on the prize with delicious anticipation, we figured you might be ready for some variety.

We started with rice cereal, which you gobbled down as if you'd been waiting for it your whole short life and then continued gumming and mmming for more. Four days later we introduced oatmeal cereal, and since then you've tried avocado, sweet potato, green beans and pears. You've taken to all of them happily except green beans, which you spit out almost as soon as the spoon touched your lips. Your eyes crinkled in utter disgust, and you gave me this sideways, pleading look as if to say, "Why Mommy? Why are you trying to poison me? Haven't I been a good baby? Haven't I?! Okay, okay, I'll sleep better, I promise! Just no more green beans, please!"

Still, I offered you a second spoonful, so you changed your tactic. You then turned your head to the other side, away from me, and averted your eyes to the ceiling. "Maybe if I don't make eye contact she'll forget I'm here. Humdeedumdeedum..." Sorry kid, no dice. I didn't force you to eat more green beans that day, but I will continue to offer them, perhaps mixed in with another food later on. One thing you should know about your mother -- I'm not above a little deception when it comes to something that's good for you.

I'm happy to report that you enjoy avocados and sweet potatoes, and you absolutely love pears. In between spoonfuls you like to bang your hand on the arm of the high chair, happily grunting and leaning forward with your mouth wide open in a perfect "O." I take it that this is your way of saying, "More, Mommy! More! More, please!"

So far, except for the cereals, I've made all of your baby food myself. I enjoy making it for you, partly because I love any excuse to play with the food processor, and mostly because I want you to have a taste for fresh fruits and vegetables early in life. Tonight you get to try butternut squash, and a next up are bananas!

Moving along your gastrointestinal tract, two unpleasant side effects of you eating solid foods are your toots and poops. Gone is the non-offensive, slightly sweet and buttermilky odor. Now they smell like, well, poop. Quite frankly, when you let one rip it clears a room. Even Mags and Murph, two rather stinky tooters themselves, tuck their tails between their legs and slink off somewhere where the air is cleaner. Let's just say if I entered you into a fart contest against a team of frat boys hopped up on bean burritos and beer, I'd put my money on you.

Although the odor is impressive in its way, that's nothing compared to what you actually put in a diaper. And wow, do you know how to fill a diaper. I should mention that since starting solids you will occasionally go a few days without pooping. This concerns your Dad, who frets over the health of your tiny bowels. I figure your bowels are just fine, but I find myself worrying about their carrying capacity and wondering when you're going to blow. When you finally do decide to give yourself and your father some relief, the product is usually grandiose in nature, creeping up your back and slipping out the legs of your diaper. And whenever you let loose one of these atomic poops, you always laugh and squirm with delight as we try to clean you up -- along with any casualties, like your clothes, the changing table, or in one instance the rug -- while holding our breath.

Your legs are getting stronger now, and you love it when we hold you in a standing position so you can bear some weight on them. You seem to have gone from enjoying tummy time to tolerating it, however. I suspect this is because you're pretty close to crawling and you're getting frustrated. You can push yourself way up on your hands now, practically lifting your belly up off the ground. And you can get your feet up under you so that your bottom pushes up in the air. Yesterday I swear you were up on your hands and knees for about a second and you rocked back and forth, only to collapse back onto your belly. I still try to put you on your tummy regularly, but at shorter and more frequent intervals so you don't get too frustrated or upset.

Finally, your feet. Your adorable, perfect, cute little feet! You love to grab both of them now while you're on your back or lying on the changing table. You figured out they were there around four months, but this month you seem to be adopting them as playthings, grabbing at them, holding on and wiggling all about with a big dopey grins and belly laughs. You continue to reach and grab for things, sometimes with both hands now. And I think you're starting to put together that you can shift an object from one hand to another. I could watch your face all day long, because it's like I can see your brain working.

The last six months have been amazing, Puppy. I can't believe how fast they've gone by and how much you've grown. Thinking about how you'll grow and change in the next six months blows my mind. So, for now, we'll just continue to enjoy one day at a time. I love you.

Love,

Mom

No sunscreen required

2009-10-08T05:06:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, Nolan and I took a trip to Maine to visit my family. Immediately after crossing the state line it began to rain, and the overcast skies hung around until it was time to leave on Monday. Despite the dreary weather we did make it to the beach one day to watch the waves and check out the seagulls. We also smelled the seaweed. Not by choice, mind you.

Take a Child Outside Week

2009-09-29T09:44:00.000-07:00

Speaking of fun before 8 p.m., this week is Take a Child Outside Week. I meant to post this earlier this week, but I think it's always a good idea to take a child outside any time of year.

Bill and I have taken Nolan outside since the day we brought him home. He's still little, so most of our outside time is spent wandering our backyard, looking at trees and plants, peering at different bugs, and watching the dogs chase squirrels, rabbits or, in most cases, each other. Even at five months old, Nolan is definitely a kid who is soothed by being outside. Often when he gets fussy or cranky, I just bring him outside to sit in the rockers on the back or front porch to watch the world go by, and it settles him right down.

Last Friday I was looking for something different to do with Nolan outside, and I became reacquainted with the simple pleasure of blowing bubbles. The two of us sat outside on the front porch together blowing bubbles and watching Maggie and Murphy skitter around the porch snap at them. I actually managed to get a few pictures of this little scene, which I'll post later.

Already the days are getting shorter, so find a kid, go outside, and see what there is to outside in your area.

A different kind of fun

2009-09-23T08:50:00.000-07:00

Apparently the bits about gray static and flaming daggers in my last letter to Nolan freaked out my parents. They actually called me last week about it, my mother suggesting I see an eye doctor, stat, and my father wanting to know why I knew so much about what a hangover felt like.

And, because lately I have the attention span of a slightly inbred and batty chihuahua, I got to thinking about the last time I had a hangover, which was obviously pre-pregnancy and quite awhile ago. I believe it was the last time I went up to New York to spend some time with my sister-in-laws. The evening began with some very talented dancing transvestites, there was a rousing game of beer pong at an Irish bar somewhere in the middle, and it ended with a fresh slice at 5:30 a.m. (Or did the beer pong incident happen the second to last time I was up there? I can't remember. It's all a little fuzzy.) Regardless, one of the things I miss most about living in New York is that you can find a hot slice of pizza at 5:30 a.m. And a cannoli, if you are so inclined. And I am always inclined for a good cannoli.

On Monday night my sister e-mailed me the following picture from the U2 concert in Boston.

Look at all those people having fun. I swear I used to be fun. But looking at this picture on Tuesday morning just made me tired. This post isn't intended to be a pity party though, because life with a young kid is definitely still fun. It's just a different sort of fun. Mostly the before 8 p.m. kind of fun. Because by 8:30 I'm ready for the type of sleeping fun that is usually reserved for the comatose or heavily medicated. Good times!

ETA: Looking at this picture again, is it just me or does it look like a giant tarantula is hovering over all the wee musicians and concert goers?

Modelin' His Noggin

2009-09-19T07:09:00.001-07:00

There are few things in life more adorable than a baby in a hat.

Recently, Jamie -- friend, blogger and knitter extraordinaire -- made a beautiful hat for Nolan. Her only request was that I take a picture of it and send it to her for a project she's working on. You mean you want me to spend a gorgeous fall afternoon taking pictures of my baby with my nifty new Canon Rebel? Well, okay, TWIST MY ARM, I'll do it. And since he was already in hat modeling mode, I also had him sport the hat Aunt Betty made for him. It was only after I heard from Jamie this morning that I learned I had her hat on Nolan backwards the entire time. Oops! I thought the extra material in the back was supposed to cover his ears and neck -- something I thought was mighty considerate, I'd like to add. But it's actually the brim of the hat! Sorry, kid. Sometimes Mom isn't so bright.

Mother, you do realize it is 72 degrees out this afternoon, right? And I'm wearing a knit hat? Okay, just checking.

I'll wear it but I won't smile.

Another one? Really?

Wait, what? You're going inside to get my snowsuit?!

Five Months

2009-09-16T05:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Nolan,

You turned five months old on Sunday, and I'm not going to lie -- the last month has been a tough one, both for you and for us. You've been going through one hell of a growth spurt, having gone from waking up one or two times at night to three or four times each night. You've gained two pounds in the last month and at least a 1/2 an inch in length, maybe more. I'm not sure about your length because getting you to lie still with your legs extended next to a tape measure for even a second is on my mental list of "Things Not Impossible but Not Worth the Aggravation."

This nighttime wakefulness seems to leave you no worse for the wear, but Dad and I are in pretty bad shape. There is a constant, buzzing static that now lives in my head and periodically shoots flaming daggers into the back of my eyeballs throughout the day. I described it to some friends as sort of like having a hangover minus the nausea and a fun time the night before. Each night when we put you to bed, I hope that tonight, TONIGHT my sweet baby that slept pretty well at night will come back. I'm trying to be an optimist here. Help a Mommy out?

During the daytime you continue to babble, coo, squeal and grin with gusto, especially now that you're catching some air in that jumperoo. You're still a good sport about tummy time, and during the last month you've become confident enough to reach out your hand, grab something in front of you and bring it toward yourself while on your belly. You've also managed to get one or both of your knees under you at the same time and curl your toes so they grip the ground, but you're still working on your strength and the coordination of your hands to actually push up and move forward. You want to move forward though. I can tell by the frustration on your face -- your little eyes curl up, your face turns a darling shade of red, and you start sputtering these little cries of "eeeh...eeeeh....EEEHHH!!" Sometimes you'll grip the play blanket, lay your head down on one side and start shimmying forward with such determination that I'm reminded I need to pick up outlet covers and child-proof cabinet locks very soon.

Another notable achievement is that you're sitting up unassisted for a few seconds at a time, a skill that absolutely delights you. You did the tripod thing with your hands for maybe a couple of days, but you cruised right into sitting up. Each day you're able to stay up a few seconds longer before you fall off balance and gently topple over into my nearby arms.

You're growing up so fast, Puppy. Pretty soon you won't need me to catch you anymore. But it is so much fun to watch you explore the world around you and learn new things. I love you.

Love,

Mom

Tête-à-tête with Mr. Bear

2009-09-03T05:25:00.000-07:00

Not long ago, my son encountered a Nolan-sized teddy bear. No words were spoken, but their exchange went like this:

Bananaramalicious

2009-09-01T06:10:00.001-07:00

Sorry, 1980s pop music fans. This post has nothing to do with the band.

I hate wasting food. I really hate it. I always finish the milk at the bottom of my cereal bowl, no matter how nastily flavored it is with soggy cereal particles. I view the expiration date on milk, eggs and cheese as more of a suggestion rather than than a hard and fast rule. I believe in the sniff test more than is probably good for me. All of this drives my husband crazy, this man I married who will toss something in the trash at 12:02 a.m. because it is now two whole minutes past its hot date.

So naturally when I came down to the kitchen on Friday morning and saw four mushy, brown-spotted bananas mocking me from my kitchen counter it drove me, well...bananas. (I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. It was just right there. Right. There.)

I decided to make banana bread, and miracle of all miracles I actually had all the ingredients I needed in my pantry closet. (This never happens.) I wondered if maybe I was pushing my luck though, because although I enjoyed cooking, baking and trying new recipes pre-baby, post-baby I haven't prepared a meal (or any kind of food item for that matter) that takes longer than 10 minutes and/or doesn't involve simply boiling some water or punching a few numbers on the microwave. (We eat a lot of spaghetti in my house these days.) I hope my enthusiasm for cooking returns at some point, but right now I just don't have the energy to throw that ball into my life's new juggling act yet.

But the miracles just kept coming on Friday. Nolan actually napped long enough so that I could put all the ingredients together for the banana bread and get it in the oven. I used the following recipe from Simply Recipes:

Ingredients

3 or 4 ripe bananas, smashed
1/3 cup melted butter
1 cup sugar (can easily reduce to 3/4 cup)
1 egg, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt
1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour

Method

No need for a mixer for this recipe. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). With a wooden spoon, mix butter into the mashed bananas in a large mixing bowl. Mix in the sugar, egg, and vanilla. Sprinkle the baking soda and salt over the mixture and mix in. Add the flour last, mix. Pour mixture into a buttered 4x8 inch loaf pan. Bake for 1 hour. Cool on a rack. Remove from pan and slice to serve.

Delicious. We polished off the entire loaf before the weekend was out. I also threw in a 1/4 cup of walnuts, because I knew when Bill put the first bite in his mouth and didn't taste walnuts he'd say, "What, no walnuts?"

Sort of related to this post: Pregnancy must have channeled my inner squirrel, because when I was carrying Nolan I shoved walnuts into my mouth like crazy. Normally I'm kind of on the fence about walnuts, but when pregnant I put them on top of or in just about anything -- salads, oatmeal, ice cream, pancakes, you get the picture. I just seemed to have a taste for them, and I figured that since they are considered one of those pregnancy superfoods with a bunch of Omega 3s, it wasn't going to hurt anything except maybe my expanding thighs.

Now I know every parent thinks their kid is a genius, but whenever Nolan hits one of his milestones or does something that points to his extraordinary baby intellect (cough, cough), I get all excited and say to Bill, "It's the walnuts! The walnuts! It's all the walnuts that I ate!" And Bill turns around so I can't see him and rolls his eyes. I'm sure of it. But the walnuts once again entered our conversation last night when, while sitting in his high chair at the dinner table, Nolan very deliberately stuck out his tongue in response to Bill, who was sticking out his tongue and making frog noises as part of an impromptu dinner theater routine about barnyard animals. (Yup, we're all about table etiquette in our household.) Nolan pushed his little tongue out three separate times in response to his Dad. Three times! I'm telling you, it was the walnuts. I'm sure I'll still be shouting about the walnuts at his college graduation, too.

Caption Quest 2009

2009-08-27T05:16:00.000-07:00

My Dad was so taken with this picture of Nolan that he's been trying to find the perfect caption for it. So committed to the endeavor, he actually solicited outside opinions and sent the picture to several friends, including his former boss at the AP, asking for suggestions. (Do we think someone loves his grandson much?)

Here's what they came up with:

I didn't ask if you could do it. I said, do it now.
Think whatever you like, but I am definitely the one in charge here!
I'm going to keep staring at that blonde over there until she notices me.
Hold on there, just a minute!
Gramps and I use the same barber.
Grandpa, YOU want ME to follow in YOUR footsteps?
Cellphones? They'll be obsolete.
Twitter! Use proper English.
There's a fire at 228 Main St, get over there!

And here's what I've come up with:

Dude, where's my car?

Tweetuldeedum

2009-08-25T06:09:00.001-07:00

Confession: I've been tweeting. I'm a twitter-er. Or tweeter. Or whatever it is called.

And I like it.

I know some people don't "get" twitter, some people think it is the same as Facebook, and still others think such abbreviated forms of communication just makes us all even more distracted and unfocused than we already are. I mean, who really cares what's on my mind or what I'm doing right now? (I'd like to pause here and point out that clearly you care, dear reader, since you are spending precious minutes of your life reading this blog. Right now. Really? You don't care what I'm doing right now? Stop reading. Go ahead. Stop. I dare you. Still reading, aren't you? Yes, that's what I thought. Carry on.)

I view twitter as micro-blogging, a way to dabble in the blogosphere without the commitment. At 140 characters, Twitter is the perfect receptacle for the random thoughts that pass through my head during the day that don't merit a blog post and don't fit anywhere else. (Really, what was I supposed to do with the new intern yesterday?) And I like the little peeks Twitter gives me into other people's heads and lives. How else would I know that my brother was heading to Copenhagen via Atlanta last Sunday? He's certainly not going to call and tell me that, but it's nice to know.

I think Twitter is to e-mail and blogging what texting is to phone calls. For a long time people didn't really "get" texting either, arguing that if you have something to tell someone why not just call them? I counter that texting is faster and more efficient, especially when you want to relay information quickly and don't have a lot of time for the "hello, how are you?" pleasantries and social pressures often involved with a telephone call. Does it mean that people won't call each other to talk anymore or replace face-to-face communication? Not likely. I think texting, twittering, facebooking (I'm just making up verbs now) helps increasingly busy people share snippets of their lives with others so they can still feel connected during those periods between a meaningful phone call or conversation. And for those "friends" that are really just interesting acquaintances , it provides a way to keep in touch and leaves the door open for getting to know someone better.

I know there have to be more people out there that tweet besides Jamie, Alethea, my brother and some of my Internet peeps. (Yes, I just used the word "peeps." It's fun to say AND it is a delicious Easter-time treat full of marshmellowy, sugary goodness. Great word.) Come out, come out, wherever you are and join the party.

So sweet it makes your teeth ache

2009-08-17T05:37:00.001-07:00

I'm very lucky to be part of a great network of Moms where we live, and yesterday afternoon a bunch of us got together with our kids for some playtime and conversation. Many thanks to J. Hughes for being brave enough to be our host and for documenting the event.

Caution: If you have children, want children or just like kids, all of the adorableness in these pictures will make your heart all melty and squishy. If you're not a kid person, all of these little people in one place will likely cause you to run screaming to the nearest pharmacy for some extra strength contraception.

Letter to Nolan (Four Months)

2009-08-13T05:03:00.000-07:00

Hello, have you met our little tree sloth?

Dear Nolan,

You turn four months old today, and you've grown so much even since the last letter I wrote just three weeks ago. This morning you grabbed your foot for the first time while I was changing your diaper, and you gave me a look of such pride and wonderment. It was as if you were saying, "Hey Mom, look! Look! Look at this thing! It's a foot, is it? Well, it's attached to my body! My BODY! And I can grab it! With my hand! See?! See?! How cool is this?!

At least once a day I try to stop, tune out the world, and just take you all in. Your growth each day is so subtle, so gradual, but the cumulative effect is stunning. Today I couldn't get over how big your hands have become. Your tiny fingers and fingernails were so perfect when you were born (they still are) but they've become longer and fuller. And your grip, always strong, has become even more sturdy. You love to explore the world with your hands and your mouth, and any stuffed animal or toy you can get into your grip goes immediately to your lips to taste and feel. You have a thing for blankets, especially soft ones, and you are constantly rubbing them all over your face. It seems to calm you.

You babble regularly now throughout the day, and your repertoire is quite impressive -- usually variations of "ah-goo," "eeeehhh," "aaaaahhh," and "eeeehhhrrr." You also are a champion drooler and raspberry blower. Your hands appear to be an adequate substitute if the pacifier has fallen out of your mouth. You can usually get three to four fingers into your little pie hole at once, and it is pretty amusing to watch you try and get your entire fist in there.

You gave us your first real smile at four weeks old, but now your smiles are wider and more frequent, and your eyes light up with such delight when you grin that my heart just sings and does tiny little flip-flop dance. Your Dad and I will do just about anything to see you smile -- pride, dignity, all that be damned. If smashing my cheeks together and blowing my lips at you while I make crazy eyes gets me one of those adorable, smiling, ah-goo laughs, then I don't care if those people in the park think I should be put on meds.

Last night as I was rocking you to sleep, I tried to stop time for a few minutes and memorize the shape of your face against my shoulder, your round cheeks and perfect little lips relaxed with sleep, the sweet smell and evenness of your breath, and the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks when you give one of those dreamland sighs. I want to burn these memories into my brain so that when I call them up weeks, months and years from now they'll remain as vivid as they are today.

Yet as much as I want to remember you during each of your baby stages, I am equally excited for you to grow and learn new things. I love daydreaming about what comes next for you -- when you'll learn how to crawl and walk, what your first word will be, what your voice will sound like, what foods you'll like or dislike, what your favorite toys will be, and the list goes on and on. So keep exploring and growing, Puppy. Your Dad and I will be right here, loving you and cheering for you. Please just don't grow up too fast, okay?

Love,

Mom

Roll with it, baby.

2009-08-11T07:45:00.001-07:00

This morning was one of those rushed, stressful mornings that I'm sure most working parents of small children can identify with -- your kid woke up multiple times the night before; the resulting exhaustion causes you to miss the morning alarm [oh wait, you FORGOT to set the alarm the night before because you live in a constant state of fatigue]; you can't find your shoes or your keys ANYWHERE, making you wonder if you could get away with hot-wiring the car AND going to work barefoot; and when you finally load your purse, diaper bag, breast pump, milk for the baby and lunch bag onto your Sherpa-like shoulders to hoof out to the car, your child spits up all over himself as Dad tries to put him in his car seat. Swell. The only thing that would have made this morning even more perfect was if one of the dogs barfed on the carpet. Seriously.

So I did what any tired, irritated Mom who was late for work might do. I took it out on my husband. I snapped at him for helping -- you know, because he was being slow about changing the baby. Because that makes sense.

A few minutes ago, Bill called and chirpily told me that he is taking a couple hours off today to spend some time with Nolan and so I can go to the gym to get in a run on the treadmill (because it has been 1000 degrees here since Sunday). Today is one of those days when I am reminded how lucky I am to have such a kind, thoughtful, forgiving husband who manages to just roll with my crazy. Lord knows I didn't do anything to deserve him doing something nice like this for me today.

Click to view a video of two guys secure enough in their masculinity to sit around giggling and hanging out with a ducky blanket.

Sisterly Love

2009-08-06T07:14:00.000-07:00

Mary Angione from Improv Asylum on Vimeo.

In addition to two weddings, my sister also had two bachelorette parties -- one after her bridal shower in early June and another one thrown by some of her work friends just a two weeks before her Massachusetts wedding. They took her to Improv Asylum, a comedy place in Boston that messes with the audience and does sketch theater. And, of course, because Mary was a bachelorette-of-honor that evening, she got to wear a super cool fake lei and be part of the show.

The 11-minute interview with her and the resulting "this must be your life" skit is pretty entertaining, and the actress who plays Mary did a great job capturing her mannerisms and speech patterns. During the interview segment Mary was asked to describe me, her maid of honor, in one word. She chose "loyal." To which the host replied, "Oh, okay, so she's not going around pretending to be anyone else's sister? Got it."

Now, before you start getting all these mushy, gushy, warm and fuzzy feelings about our beautiful sisterly love, I should point out that the word "loyal" isn't reflective of our entire siblinghood. Truth be told, growing up I would have happily sold my sister out for a Snickers bar and handful of Skittles. But Mary was an infuriatingly obedient child, so it was rare that I had anything on her that would work to my personal advantage. That's not to say we didn't fight -- we often got into it, and usually pretty loudly. And, since I'm being honest, most of the time it was me who did the provoking. It was fun to get under her skin, needling at her until what started as a verbal squabble over a Barbie or stuffed animal morphed into a melee of high-pitched girly screaming, hair pulling and scratching. (Oh, the scratching!) It was sport, really.

I think she chose the word "loyal" to describe me partly because as adults we're actually friends, and mostly because I've channeled all that energy I spent during my childhood trying to get a rise out of her into holding massive grudges against all of her ex-boyfriends. (Every. Single. One.) Whenever one of Mary's relationships ended, badly or amicably, I took great pleasure in concocting and presenting her with different scenarios that usually resulted in the ex suffering public humiliation and embarrassing bodily harm. I'm tempted to expand on some of them, but my mother reads this blog. Just think dark parking lots, wild animals, sharp objects, billboards, heavy twine -- you'll start to get the picture.

Are you paying attention, Clemens?

Whatever works

2009-08-04T04:47:00.000-07:00

Nolan is a pretty good sleeper, sometimes sleeping four or five hours at a stretch on a good night, but he must have had a conversation with Grandma and Grandpa last month and agreed to give me hell at night for awhile as payback for my steadfast resistance to bedtime as a child. He's been pretty wakeful the last few nights, so to try and help soothe him back to sleep we've been putting him to bed with a "lovey," the technical term for a cross between a stuffed animal and a security blanket.

His lovey is a little blue blanket with an elephant head attached that we've nicknamed "Harry Elephante" (You know, like Harry Belafonte. Day-O. Daaaay O. Because we're dorks like that). So last night when Nolan started fussing shortly after he had been fed and went down for the night, I gave him Harry. Nolan fussed a little for about five minutes while mashing Harry all around his face with his cute little hands, and then all of a sudden his hands fell to his sides and I heard baby snores.

I was sitting across the room in the glider, and when I peaked over the crib I started shaking with silent laughter because I saw this

Apparently he takes after his maternal grandfather who likes to sleep with a pillow across his face. Needless to say I gently lifted Harry off Nolan's face before child services showed up at my door. I'm learning what I'm sure my parents and parents around the world learned a long time ago -- when it comes to your kid and sleep, you do whatever works. Which is why I'm quite sure my parents didn't argue when I insisted on some strange bedfellows as a child.

That housefly was out to get me. What else was I supposed to do?!

National Angione's European Vacation

2009-07-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

My sister is the only person I know who got to wear her wedding dress twice. And I'm not talking about the wearing your dress on Halloween to give out candy to trick-or-treater's kind of twice either. I'm talking two full-on nuptials in two different countries within the span of two weeks.

Schwester and Clemens (my new bruder-in-law) were first married on July 11 in Stow, Mass. on what was perhaps the only sunny day in New England this summer. There was music, dancing, liquor -- such a good time was had by all that I've forgiven her for making me wear a bridesmaid dress with a butt bow. (That's love.)

About a week later Mary and Clem got on a plane to Germany to get married all over again in Kiel, where Clemens is from. With a new baby and no vacation left after three months of maternity leave, Bill, Nolan and I were unable to make wedding part deux. Instead, my mother, father and two of our aunts went over to represent.

Amazingly my father and mother made it from Hamburg to Kiel in their standard shift rental car on the autoban (in 5th gear "almost all of the way!") without causing an international incident. This is remarkable because my parents are in their 60s and drive like it, and because my father probably hasn't driven a standard car in, oh, about 30 years. Aside: Mom and Dad rented a Porsche for this trip -- I'd like to take this moment to point out that when Dad came to visit me in June his rental car was a HYUNDAI ELANTRA. But I digress.

When they finally arrived in Kiel, my grammar loving, punctuation obsessed, newspaper-editor-turned lawyer father sought out an Internet cafe to send me an e-mail, only to be flummoxed by the European keyboard:

"Thez kezboards on these terminals are driving me crayz, with the waz that y is where z should be, and z is where y should be. And it took a zoung fellow here in the cafe a minute ago to show me how to generate the @ sign. It shows on the Q kez, but CTRL, which seems to be marked Strg, didn't zield the @, and I wasn't sharp enough to check out the ALT combination. I watched the Frost-Nixon movie directed bz Ron Howard on the plane last night. Fascinating look into how he got Nixon to come to at least a partial recognition of what he did."

And still relations between Germany and the United States remain amicable. Let's take a moment and breathe a sigh of relief. ::aaaaah:: Oh, and way to somehow work Nixon into the conversation, Dad. Were you reaching for a teachable moment?

Later I get an e-mail from one of my aunts:

"Hi, we are all at the party at the beer garten and will bring your greetings. Your Dad is standing behind me and is telling me to watch my y's and z's and I am tellinvhim to watch his p's and q's."

She doesn't drink, but maybe she decided to start?

I'm told the German wedding was, shockingly, said mostly in German. In a subsequent e-mail my father noted, "...but those of us who had practice with Latin Masses took it pretty much in stride." You know, German and Latin, same thing.

Mary and Clem are off enjoying a honeymoon in Italy now, and as of yesterday my parents, who must have been feeling lucky, decided to cross the border to test Danish and American relations in Copenhagen, "where y is y and z is z," I am told.

I can't wait to hear about the trip home.

Born to be in pictures

2009-07-27T05:27:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how much babies change during the first year of their lives. And I don't want to miss a minute of Nolan growing up. Last week we met up with the lovely and talented Nicole Faby for Nolan's three month photos. Once again, Nicole did a fantastic job capturing Nolan and his developing personality! Here are some preview pictures Nicole posted on her blog from the session. I'll post more photos from the session to our share site soon.

Who is that pretty lady taking my picture? Hello, pretty lady!

Being beautiful is hard. I just need a quick nap.

Check this out! I have a voice! And I'm learning how to use it!

Hello! I'm having a good time. How about you?

I've got a secret...

And...it's nap time again.

Dear Nolan...

2009-07-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

Dear Nolan,

You are three months, one week and two days old today. Your father and I can hardly believe it. Just weeks ago you were an adorable little lump with chicken legs and arms whose only concern was eating, sleeping and pooping. Today, you actually look like we've been feeding you, and you smile and coo and giggle and your cuteness makes me smile so much my face hurts.

I wanted to start these letters to you when you were a month old, but when I've had any "free" time these last few months -- meaning that you were sleeping or being entertained by someone else -- I chose to either sleep or shower. Every time.

It has only been in the last two weeks that you're regularly sleeping six hour stretches at night, which some pediatrician quack somewhere who clearly can live on much less sleep than your father and I can decided would be the definition of "Sleeping Through the Night." I am here to tell you that while you sleeping from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. is a wonderful development, one that has resulted in me being able to string together at least a few coherent sentences during the day, I will seriously consider giving you a pony when you can sleep an uninterrupted 10 to 12 hours a night.

Despite the perpetual foggy haze clouding our brains since your birth, your father and I are completely in love with you and are amazed at how much you grow and develop each day. When we saw you smile for the first time at the age of four weeks, a real smile and not your "ah, I've passed gas" twitching of your mouth, we were practically falling over ourselves in delight. You open up our eyes to the world in a way we never could have imagined.

For example, I finally get the appeal of drive through lanes. I used to think drive throughs at fast food places, banks and pharmacies were for lazy people. Not so. I am now convinced the drive through concept was invented by parents with children in car seats. (Bless the genius at Starbucks who pushed the ideas of drive throughs at their stores). These days my criteria for choosing a lunch or coffee establishment now often depends on whether or not I have to get out of the car because that usually means I have to check my pockets for my keys six times while I come around to your door so as not to accidentally lock you helpless in the car, wrestle you and your infant carrier out of the backseat, and then debate with myself whether the amount of walking or standing ahead of me necessitates pulling out the stroller and the diaper bag as well.

I also have a new appreciation for what handicapped people go through in public places. Because on those days when I decide lifting your monster truck stroller out of the backseat is indeed worth it, in order to move about I'm at the mercy of handicapped ramps, access doors and elevators. Related: I wish you could remember the look of slight panic and disbelief on the face of the front desk guy at the Colonial Inn, built in 1776, where we stayed for Aunt Mary's wedding last month when you, me, Dad, your stroller and our two giant suitcases showed up and I asked, "So, where's the elevator?" Apparently if you were physically challenged during the time of our founding fathers it was your own problem if you couldn't reach the fourth floor.

I love you so much puppy, and so does your Dad. I think Maggie and Murphy are still on the fence about you, but they'll come around, most likely when you start eating solid foods and experimenting with gravity from your high chair. The dogs have started sleeping in your room next to your crib at night, and while I originally thought it was because they knew your Dad or I would eventually end up there in the middle of night so they may as well save themselves a trip, your father thinks it is because they want to protect you. I like his explanation better.

Much love,

Mom

Nolan at age two weeks

Nolan at age three months

"Mom, I'm really not too sure how I feel about the ocean. Okay, I'll try it, but I'm only going to dip in my toe."

"Aaah! It's cold! I don't like it! I don't like it at all, you crazy woman!"

Nolan's newborn photo shoot

2009-05-13T16:28:00.000-07:00

When Nolan was two weeks old I had the very talented Nicole Faby of Nicole Faby Photographycome to the house to take some pictures. I knew Nolan would grow fast, and I wanted to make sure to capture some of these moments when he still so tiny.

Nolan turns one month old today, and just from looking at Nicole's pictures I can see how much he's grown in the last two weeks alone. He has almost outgrown some of his little newborn outfits already. Also, he started smiling real smiles for the first time on Monday!

Here is a peek at a few of Nolan's newborn pictures. If you'd like to see more, visit our Share site where I've posted my favorites.

Nolan William is here!

2009-05-01T11:17:00.000-07:00

Well, he's been here more than two weeks now. But Bill and I have been so busy and sleep deprived that this is my first opportunity to update our blog. I love you all, but lately I've been taking the age old advice about "sleeping when the baby sleeps" to heart. Which means I've been getting random blocks of two to three hours of sleep at a time. Since Nolan's birth, time seems to have run together into an indecipherable clump of night and day.

But it is all worth it. Besides the fact Bill and I love being parents, Nolan had his two week appointment with the pediatrician today and let's just say our kid has inherited an overachiever gene. When
Nolan was born he weighed 7 pounds, 11 ounces, and when we left the hospital he had dropped down to 7 pounds, 3 ounces. Today he weighed in at 8 pounds, 4 ounces! He also grew a half an inch, and is now 21.5 inches long! My breasts are magical! (We've been breastfeeding, and news like this makes those exhausting feedings in the wee hours of the morning all worth it.)

But back to our originally scheduled broadcast.

PICTURES

First things first: pictures. Posting a lot of pictures to this blog is time-consuming and a pain in the rear. So here is a link to our Shutterfly Share site where you can view pictures from Nolan's first two weeks. I will make this a permanent link on the blog shortly, so check back often. Also, I had a talented young photographer come to the house a couple of days ago to take some newborn photos of Nolan, and I will be posting a link to those photos as soon as she notifies me they are ready for viewing.

BIRTH STORY

We arrived at the hospital on Easter Sunday around 9 p.m. Doctor H began the induction process about 10 p.m. We quickly learned that Nolan disliked Pitocin. His heart rate often dropped when a contraction hit its peak, so we spent about 15 hours of labor turning the Pitocin on and off, while Dr. H and/or my L&D nurse kept coming into the room to make me switch positions. They broke my water at 4 a.m. By 8:30 a.m. I still hadn’t dilated past 3 cm and I was ready for an epidural. (And yes, it was h.e.a.v.en. Loved it. That big ol’ needle didn’t hurt at all!) Dr. H really wanted me to be able to deliver the natural way, but warned me that if things didn’t start to progress soon and the heart rate issue continued, we’d have to think about “other options.” (Read: C-section).

By noon on 4/13 I hadn’t dilated any further past 3 cm, and we were still dealing with the constant on/off of Pitocin and the heart rate issue. Finally, around 1:30 p.m., Dr. H came into my room, checked me, looked at my chart, slammed it shut and said, “Aw, screw it!” and stormed out of the room. At which point my super sweet L&D nurse Ginny cheerily said, “Okay! Let’s get you ready for a c-section!”

Me: “Wait, that’s his big motivational, ‘it’s going to be okay!’ speech? ‘Aw, screw it?!’ “)

But that’s just Dr. H and I trusted him. Having never had surgery before, I was scared out of my mind. The combo of fear and exhaustion caused the tears to flow. (Apparently, I was so pitiful that Nurse Ginny came to see me in the Pediatric After Care Unit afterwards and told me that she started to cry when she handed me off to the folks in the operating room!)

Everyone at Rex was wonderful though, especially Ginny, Dr. H. and all of the nurses and doctors in the operating room. At 2:10 p.m. all of the fear and anxiety I had about surgery just melted away as soon as I heard Nolan’s first squeak and then his beautiful cry! I may have been lying on a table with nothing but a thin blue sheet separating me from my exposed guts, but all was right with the world. All of a sudden my future as a mother became very clear to me, and it was the most amazing, joyful feeling I’ve ever experienced.

They showed me Nolan’s sweet face before bringing him back to be weighed and measured, and then they let DH bring him back to me in the OR for a few minutes so I could see him for a little while longer. I finally got to hold him for a bit in the PACU where I was visited by our neighbor, Brandi, who is a nurse in the special care nursery. It was so nice and comforting to see a friendly face! Thank you, Brandi!

Well, Smalls is waking up from a nap, and pretty soon his little “meh” and “eh” rumblings will erupt into a full-fledged volcanic wail, which is his way of saying, “Yo Mom, do we have anything to eat up in this joint?” I’ll do my best to post again soon.

Fishing for Data

2009-03-24T08:21:00.000-07:00

This is obviously a personal blog that we use to keep in touch with family and friends, so normally I don't post about work. But I feel special today, so I figured I'd share.

An article I wrote for Coastwatch about experimenting with text messaging as a method to gather recreational fishing data made the science blogosphere. Snips were posted last night on "A Blog Around the Clock," written by one of the organizers of the annual NC Science Blogging Conference. If you're interested in science, his blog is great. Check it out.

Nursery pictures!

2009-03-13T10:25:00.001-07:00

As promised, here are some pictures of our nearly completed nursery. I decided the other day that the wall above the bookcase needs a clock, and once we've named our son I will hang some very cool wall letters in his monogram above his crib. Oh, and one more caveat about the pictures: they make the room look darker than it really is because the morning I took the photos it was overcast. It totally messed with the lighting for good pictures.

Anyway, we had fun putting together this nursery, and we're looking forward to spending time in it with our son. Only three weeks until his due date!

Walking into the room

Crib to your left

Dresser, changer and shelves to your right

Close up of the alphabet flashcards we strung up with ribbon around the top of the room

Wall opposite the owls. A clock will go above the bookcase. The door to your left is the entrance to the room, the door on the right is the closet.

Showers and Sprinkles

2009-03-05T07:36:00.001-08:00

Baby A is almost done cooking (I'll be 36 weeks tomorrow) and while we're obviously excited to meet him, our friends and family seem equally eager! Last month our friends Amy, Heather and Allyson threw us a wonderful baby shower. It made me feel very special, and both Bill and I feel so lucky to have such fantastic friends and family. Many thanks to everyone who came to the shower, as well as to those who couldn't attend but I know would have loved to have been there. I'll post pictures of the nursery, complete with many of the items we received at the shower, once we've put the final touches on things in the room.

Two days ago the ladies in my book club "sprinkled" me and another member (due to have a baby girl the day after me) with several children's books -- thank you! For many of us in book club, it was a trip down memory lane as we flipped through books like Charlotte's Web, The Poky Little Puppy, and A Pocket for Corduroy. We were introduced to some new sure-to-be classics as well, such as Henry Hikes to Fitchburg and I'll Love You Forever. Reading to Baby A is one of the things Bill and I are very much looking forward to and I am sure all of these books will soon become well-loved by our little one!

For those of you wondering whether we've chosen a name yet, the answer is: "sort of." We're down to two finalists but we'll most likely be making a game day decision. Sorry to keep you in suspense!

One of my favorite people

2009-03-05T07:23:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite people was recently in the news again -- Rich Ognibene.

In 2008 he was named New York State Teacher of the Year, and last month he was honored at the National Education Association Foundation’s “Salute to Excellence in Education” gala in Washington, D.C., where he received the national Horace Mann Award for Teaching Excellence. Yay, Rich!

Richard is one of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure to know, and my only regret is that I never got to be one of his chemistry or physics students. (None of my chemistry or physics teachers ever laid down on a bed of nails to teach us about weight distribution, or wrote his or her name on the blackboard in ethanol and then lit it on fire. Note to my high school teachers: I feel a little cheated.)

I've known Rich and his family my entire life, so rather than read my potentially biased opinions about his teaching skills, I'll let you read what his students have to say about him in this article from the Perinton Post News.

Brian vs. The Angry Vending Machine

2009-02-03T05:54:00.000-08:00

I have no idea who Brian is, but I'm pretty sure he's screwed.

There is a vending machine in the building next to where I work that I've dubbed the "angry vending machine" because people often attach angry sticky notes to it complaining that the machine ate their money and didn't deliver their soda. Yesterday, I saw the following exchange:

*Note: For those of you who live out of state, Erskine Bowles is president of the University of North Carolina system and Beverly Perdue is our newly elected governor.

Kathleen vs. The Lying Dog Poop Kid

2009-01-26T11:38:00.000-08:00

Do you know what is more disgusting than picking up dog poop? Seeing it on the side of the road in your neighborhood or park. Or stepping in it. Or having your dog or child step in it. Or, if you want to get really gross about it, having stray dog poop wash down into storm drains and drainage ditches that flow into local waterways that we fish from, swim in and that feed our drinking water resources.

Let me be clear: I don't blame dogs. As Orphan Annie once so wisely stated, "When you've got to go, you've got to go." (And never have these words been so true to me as the are now, at seven months pregnant. But I digress.) I get hot under the collar when irresponsible dog owners are too lazy to pick up their dog's poop, especially some of the slack dog owners who live in our neighborhood.

Unfortunately, it is rare to catch a non-poop-picker-upper in the act, but last week I called out a neighborhood teenager for letting his dog poo in the middle of the road and not picking it up. And I don’t feel bad for being a tad b!tchy about it either.

Here’s what went down.

The morning after Mother Nature decided to have a giggle and dump six inches of snow on North Carolina, I slowly pull up to a snowy, icy intersection in our neighborhood and stop. Kid # 1 is talking to Kid # 2. Kid # 1 is not watching his dog, which has stopped behind him. The dog assumes that universal hunched over canine position, locks eyes with me, and proceeds to take a dump worthy of a racehorse in the middle of the road. Kid #2 walks around the corner. Kid # 1 takes a few steps forward, as if to move on. I roll down my window.

Me: Excuse me, do you have a bag to pick that up?
Kid: Huh?
Me: A bag. To pick up your dog’s poop.
Kid: Wha? He didn’t poop.
Me: Yes, he did. I just saw him poop in the middle of the road. Do you need a bag? I have an extra bag in my car. I’d be happy to give it to you. (Note: I keep extra bags in my car for the dog park.)
Kid: He didn’t poop.

At this point, I get out of my car with a plastic bag and walk over to the kid. I point out the fresh pile of steaming dog poo that is burning a hole in the snow.

Kid: He didn’t do that.
Me: Yes, he did. I saw him do it while you were talking to your friend. Now, since you don’t have a bag with you today, and I do, I’ll pick this up for you. But please, in the future bring a bag and pick up after your dog.

I guess the sight of a pregnant woman with no winter coat on bending down in the middle of an icy road to pick up his dog’s poop finally shamed this kid a little bit for lying straight to my face. I stand up, bag of poop in hand, and he says to me:

“Uh, I can take that for you.”

Me: Thank you. That would be wonderful.

I hand him the bag of poo and get back in my car. I then drive around the block so I can pass by my house and make sure he hasn't lit the bag of poop on fire and thrown it on my doorstep.

Do you know what I may find more irritating than stray dog poop? People that lie to your face.

Snow Day!

2009-01-20T14:18:00.000-08:00

We don't usually get the white stuff in North Carolina, much less 3 to 6 inches of it, so I felt it was worth documenting the event. I stayed home today, so I took the dogs out to play in the snow.

What? Rolling in the snow is fun!

View of our backyard from the upper deck.

Few birds made an appearance in our yard today.

View of the lower deck.

View from the front yard.

Maggie patiently poses for a picture before taking off to tackle Murphy.

Can you tell the white fur from the snow?

They finally got tired! Afterward, we curled up with some hot coca (for me) and some Milkbones (for them) and watched the inauguration.

Blog slacker update

And, because I still have yet to post about the holidays, here are some pictures from Christmas morning at our place.

Merry Christmas!

Time to pose for a few pictures before opening presents.

Murphy patiently awaits her gifts.

Mom browses a photo album I made for Bill while Dad tests out a new fashion statement: neck ribbons.

In the middle of opening gifts.

Maggie loves to "help" unwrap things.

"Whatever could this be?"

Dad and Christine with a framed picture of a copy of a special advertisement. Apparently, when Dad found out he was going to have a sister, he gave this advertisement to his mother and requested the baby in this picture.

Maggie gives up on the wrapping paper and plays with her new toy.

Clem passes out amidst the Christmas gift aftermath.

So sue me.

2008-12-22T09:34:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, I've been a blogging slacker. I could come up with many excuses for my slackness, but I'm sure you're not interested in hearing them. Here's a recap, starting with the last event first, of what we've been up to since I fell off the face of the cyber-planet.

December 2008

The Raleigh Jingle Bell Run (and more)

Bill and many of the regular running crew ran the annual Raleigh Jingle Bell Run (5K) the first weekend in December. (Here's the "And More" part.) Being that my girl parts are in the process of growing another human life, I didn't participate in any of the fall and winter races this year. I probably could have run a few of them, but I wouldn't have been able to really push myself and race, so I opted to hone my skills as a cheerer and sideline crap holder instead. Thankfully, I was able to continue running regularly up until about 20 weeks (5ish months). I stopped normal running in November when I started to experience some pain in my abdominal region while chugging along at my slower pregnancy pace. In an effort to continue logging my weekday and weekend miles, I've been hitting up the elliptical machines at the gym.

Left to right: Bill, Amy, Heather, Jackie, Jamie, Callie and Sarah

Bill passes the fat man in the red suit on the way out. (Let's hope Santa doesn't hold a grudge.)

Jackie blazes ahead running at a sub 9 minute mile.

Heather heads for the finish line. She always so smiley when she runs!

November 2008

Inside Outside Sports Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot

Several members of Bill's family came down to NC to celebrate Thanksgiving, so Bill, Renee, John, Mike and Bill's Dad started off the morning at the Inside Outside Sports Thanksgiving Day Turkey Trot (8K) with our friend Amy. (Being that Mike and Bill's Dad were there to help me cheer and hold crap, I got to be the picture taker this time.)

At the starting line

Left to Right: John, Amy and Renee peek through the crowd. Bill took off for a last minute bathroom break so we missed him in the starting line crowd.

John showboats for the camera as the crazy lady in purple shorts tries to catch him. (She didn't.) Bill came in shortly after John, but Bill was working his way through a knot of people and by the time I saw him it was too late. Picture Taker: FAIL.

Renee came in next, apparently also auditioning for the next Nike-Ipod "Just Do It" commercial.

Amy finishes the race strong, not letting anyone pass her in the home stretch.

A quick picture stop before hoping in the car for bagels and doughnuts.

The Outer Banks Half Marathon Weekend
In early November we took a road trip to the Outer Banks with several of our friends for the annual Outer Banks Half and Full Marathons. I originally planned on running this race at the beginning of the season (see above why I didn't) and so did Bill. Unfortunately, Bill hurt his hip pretty badly about two weeks prior to the race and had to drop out. We still had a very enjoyable and fun weekend though.

Happy Birthday, Bill and Jamie! These two had birthdays that weekend, so after stuffing ourselves with spaghetti and meatballs the night before the race we made room for cake.

The "regular" Raleigh runners and a visitor from Philly. Allyson and I did not participate in the race, but the competitors graciously allowed us to pose with them anyway. :) Left to right: Allyson, Heather, Jackie, Philly Visitor, Amy, Kathleen (with a baby, not a beer gut) and Jamie.

Bill, Amy's husband Matt and I make new friends while we go get coffee the morning of the race. While we were getting lattes, the runners were probably at mile 4 or 5.

Post race victory shot! Well done, ladies!

While we were there we took in some sights, including the NC Aquarium on Roanoke Island. Bill and Elizabeth bonded while they dug for fossils in the museum's outdoor fossil pit.

I love this picture of Allyson, Elizabeth and John. Don't they look like a celebrity family caught on the street by paparazzi cameras?

Update on Team Blue

2008-11-06T10:35:00.000-08:00

North Carolina goes blue! They called the race today.

Go Team Blue!

2008-11-04T09:38:00.001-08:00

Clearly the above picture has a dual meaning. Please, let me explain.

----------

First things first -- it's a boy! Bill's intuition was correct. We had our 18 week ultrasound yesterday afternoon, and there is no doubt it is a little boy. Go Team Blue! Our little one was very cooperative for the ultrasound technician, and we were able to see all kinds of cool things, including the four chambers of his heart (beating at 151 beats per minute), two amazing shots of his perfect little spine, and even a wonderful shot of his face when the tech turned on the 3D images. All of his organs seem to be developing very well, and overall he looks wonderfully healthy. We're so happy! I'll post some new ultrasound pictures as soon as I have a chance to scan them.

So congratulations to all of you boy voters out there. As for you girl supporters, who knows? Maybe your candidate will have a shot closer to 2012. :)

----------

In other "Team Blue" news, there is a good chance that our great state of North Carolina may go blue during tonight's election. So far more close to two million people have voted early, many of them Democrats and unaffiliated voters, and the polls have Obama and McCain tied here, making it a true toss up state. (Fun Fact: North Carolina hasn't voted blue since Jimmy Carter in 1976). So, will "Team Blue" have another victory tonight? It's possible, and many are hopeful, such as my friend Jamie, who is clearly as passionate about politics as she is about baking. (Check out her McBlog.) Food with a message. I love it.

Someone else very special to us was baking up a blue storm last night, but unfortunately I don't have a picture to share at the moment. Bill's Mom made a bunch of chocolate cupcakes yesterday morning, icing half of them with pink frosting and the other half with blue frosting. She presented us with the blue frosted cupcakes late yesterday in celebration of our big news. They were delicious, and I saved some for tonight to celebrate another possible blue victory.

Go Team Blue!

The best response to our poll so far...

2008-10-23T13:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I received the following e-mail about our Baby A poll from my favorite German and soon-to-be brother-in-law. It made me laugh, and it was just too funny to keep to myself.

"Being neither a citizen nor a family member, do you think it's appropriate for me to vote...? With less than two weeks left in the campaign, I see a tough uphill battle for the dog, and I must say the dog deserves better. The dog is probably being discriminated against - these discriminatory practices should be investigated, eliminated and eradicated so that democracy as we know it may not be undermined.

This has been a two-gender system for too long and people deserve a REAL third option. What ARE the options now? Just look at the statistics: 'the candidate' sided with the father in being blue in 51% of all cases!! The other 49% of all times 'the candidate' just FLIP-FLOPPED to go with the mother!!! That is not democracy.... we need real change, redistribution of chance, fixing the near 50%-bias of a broken two-gender system. We need a maverick who doesn't just say 'pink' or 'blue' to satisfy the masses but a true outsider who can give real hope even to the dog.

ok, I think that's enough BS from me..... ;) "

Note to Clem: We love your B.S. It smells like roses. Keep it coming!

In other news, I will be 17 weeks tomorrow, which means Baby A has grown from the size of an avocado to that of an onion. :) Because I know you were all just wondering. .

Q: What is more exciting than election day?

2008-10-20T12:37:00.000-07:00

A: The day before election day. That's because we find out if Baby A is a boy or a girl on Nov. 3!

I had my usual monthly appointment with my doctor last week, and we ended up scheduling the "big" ultrasound for next month. This ultrasound is really more to monitor the health of the baby rather than find out the sex, but let's face it -- we think learning if we're having a son or a daughter is a huge bonus!

As Bill and I were walking the dogs the other night, I confessed that my gut is telling me it's a girl. He laughed and said his gut is telling him it's a boy. Let me just be clear and say that whatever it is, we will both be excited either way. But we think it is pretty funny that our "guts" are in disagreement. So I decided it would be fun to poll the readers' guts: Is Baby A a boy or a girl? (See the poll at the top right!)

Vegas, baby!

2008-10-17T09:07:00.000-07:00

Our mystery vacation destination was Las Vegas! (I know, I've been a huge blog slacker the last two weeks. My apologies.)

Bill did a great job of planning this trip and keeping it a secret from me until the very last minute. We left on a Friday morning and returned late on a Monday night. Vegas was so much fun! There is so much to do there besides drinking and gambling, which is what first came to my mind when I heard "Vegas." The shows, the food and the sights along the strip were amazing! Here are some photos from our trip.

The entrance to the Luxor, where we stayed.

The building is shaped like a pyramid, and all the elevators, known as "inclinators" go up on an angle.

I stopped to play the nickel slots before going out to explore the strip. I'm such a big spender.

Off to check out the strip!

One of the lions outside of the MGM Grand, which was across the street.

The real lions were inside the MGM Grand.

The famous Tropicana hotel

The Excalibur, which is next door to the Luxor

New York, New York

We went to the top of the Eiffel Tower replica at the Paris hotel. (Christine, the tower was impressive, but not quite the same as the real thing. ;) )

Looking down at the Paris hotel from the top of the Eiffel Tower replica

More views from the top

Hello, Caesar's palace! Tell Cher we said hello.

While at the top of the tower we got to see one of the fountain shows at the Bellagio. The shows are set to music and run every half an hour. Very cool!

The next day we ventured further down the strip and visited the Venetian and Treasure Island (in the background)

We like to make friends wherever we go

We also took some time to explore the desert mountains. This is on the way out to the Hoover Dam.

Stopping to enjoy the scenery of Lake Mead

Damn...

that's a lot of concrete.

We took a tour below the dam

On top of the dam, looking down

Lake Mead on the other side

Until next time, Vegas!

Rachel for president!

2008-10-08T10:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, if you're not willing to write her name in on Nov. 4, the least you can do is check out her submission to a t-shirt design contest on threadless.com.

Rachel, known in some circles as Phoenix, is an incredibly talented illustrator and super cool chick who just moved to San Francisco. (She's also my relative, which I know earns her extra super cool points. I'm just saying...) You can see some of her previous work on snowboards at www.phoenixzoellick.com.

Anyhoo, Rachel is trying to launch a t-shirt line in her new place of residence, and threadless.com puts new designs up for a vote. If her design gets enough votes, threadless will produce the shirts and she gets free advertising and visibility.

Her design is called "Have Your Cake..." and features some of her unique characters called the Pixie Birds. Voting doesn't involve buying anything -- just your opinion. The voting scale is from 1-5, 5 = you like it a lot, 1= it's not your style.

So, go practice exercising your right to vote by logging on to threadless.com to check out and weigh in on her design. (P.S. If you vote anything less than a 5, I will find you.)

In case you missed all of the embedded links to her design, click here to vote!

The Next Chapter

2008-10-01T12:28:00.001-07:00

It's a Rorschach test. What do you see in this picture? This time there is actually a right answer. If you guessed, "baby," ding, ding, ding, you're correct!

Not too terribly long ago Bill and I decided that it was time to move on to the next chapter in our lives together -- expanding our family. Our first child is due in early April, and we couldn't be more excited! We've made it safely through the first trimester, and have started sharing our good news with family and friends. :)

Run, Bill, Run!

2008-10-01T12:09:00.000-07:00

Bill has been tearing up the track this fall! (Note: He's too modest to tell all of you this, so I've decided it is my job to brag about his athletic achievements.) He is training for the Outer Banks Half Marathon, held on Nov. 9 (his birthday!). It's going to be a great race -- we're heading out there with a bunch of our running friends to spend a few days enjoying the area.

Bill started incorporating some speed training into his runs this summer, and it is definitely paying off. He ran his first race of the season, a 5K (3.1 miles) for the March of Dimes, in only 20 minutes. He placed second in his age group and seventh overall at his next race, an 8K (4.97 miles), with a time of 33 minutes and change. And last weekend he ran a 10 mile race in 73 minutes!

At the 10-miler Bill beat a regular on the local race circuit known among our friends as "stroller dude," a person in his 30s who almost always races while pushing his toddler in a jogging stroller. We have nothing against stroller dude at all. In fact, we find his times quite impressive. Bill has even spoken with stroller dude on various occasions and says he is a very nice guy. However, Bill's victory over stroller dude was particularly sweet for our friend Amy, who almost got lapped by this guy in her very first 5K last fall! :)

We won't be attending any races this coming weekend -- we're on vacation! Where are we going, you may ask? That is an excellent question. And I wish I knew what to tell you. Bill decided a few months ago that we needed a vacation, so he went ahead and booked one but wouldn't tell me where we planned to go or what we planned to do. I'm very excited about this vacation, and I will be surely texting some of you when we arrive at the airport on Friday morning and I figure it out.

Bill's next race in his fall "series" is a 5K on Oct. 11. He hopes to beat his 5K time from Sept., so stay tuned!

I'm in love with French toast waffles

2008-09-14T14:13:00.000-07:00

Confession: I love playing with our waffle maker. (A quick shout out here to Sara and Keith for such an awesome wedding gift!) It's right up there next to playing with the Kitchenaid Mixer and the blender. Needless to say that when we invited Bill's parents to our place for brunch this afternoon the waffle maker had "opportunity" written all over it.

I found the following recipe for French toast waffles online, originally from Cooking Light magazine. (French toast? Good. Waffles? Good. French toast waffles? Gooood!) They turned out delicious, especially when served with fresh berries and whipped cream. Yum!

Note: The only things I did differently were a) use fresh French bread, as I couldn't find day-old French bread at the grocery store, and b) instead of pouring the milk mixture over the slices and letting it sit for five minutes, I just dipped bread slices in the mixture like you normally would. I did let the slices sit on the counter for a little while beforehand in the hopes that they would toughen up a bit. But because I dipped the slices instead of soaking them, they didn't get too soggy and I probably didn't need to leave them on the counter.

Yield

4 servings (serving size: 4 waffles)

Ingredients

Cooking spray
1 cup fat-free milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 large eggs
16 (1/2-inch-thick) slices day-old French bread (about 7 ounces)

Preparation

Coat waffle iron with cooking spray, and preheat.

Combine milk and the next 5 ingredients (milk through eggs), stirring well with a whisk. Place bread in a 13 x 9-inch baking dish; pour milk mixture over bread, turning to coat. Let stand 5 minutes.

Place 4 bread slices on hot waffle iron. Cook 3 to 5 minutes or until done; repeat the procedure with the remaining bread.

Nutritional Information

Calories: 236 (27% from fat)
Fat: 7g (sat 3g,mono 2.4g,poly 0.8g)
Protein: 9.6g
Carbohydrate: 32.5g
Fiber: 1.6g
Cholesterol: 115mg
Iron: 1.7mg
Sodium: 395mg
Calcium: 129mg

Pensacola meets Panama

2008-09-11T06:25:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to our friends Katie and Norman! They were married on August 30 in the historic district of Pensacola, Fla. Katie is a native of Pensacola, and Norman hails from Panama.

It was a beautiful wedding, and we had so much fun catching up with Katie and Norman and meeting their families. Luckily, the winds and rain from Hurricane Gustav didn't arrive in the Gulf until the next day. Unfortunately, the storm canceled the couple's plans to honeymoon in New Orleans, but they took it in stride!

While we were in Pensacola, Bill and I had a chance to explore the Gulf Breeze National Seashore, which was amazing. Even more amazing were some of the enormous spiders we cam across on one particular trail, but I will save that for another post. Icky, giant spiders and beautiful weddings do not go together. It's just one of those laws of the universe.

Norman and Katie were married at Old Christ Church, one of the most historic chapels in Pensacola. Among its long and colorful history, the chapel was used as an infirmary for Union soldiers during the Civil War.

The happy couple! You can't see it, but just a step in front of them is a white marble memorial plaque in honor of the church's first three rectors who are buried beneath the church. Until the late 1980s the graves were just legends, but an archeology study conducted during renovations in the 1990s revealed that the rumors were true.

Look to the left - a bagpiper! He was awesome.

Heading off to their reception in style.

The Eckerd College contingency. (L to R) Chandra, Katie and Kathleen

Me and Chandra! :)

Katie says, "Heck yes I'm going to eat at my own wedding!"

Mmmm...cake!

Katie gets a little emotional after a heartwarming speech from Chandra, her maid of honor.

Lightening the mood. Katie and Norman get a little crazy on the dance floor!

Their enthusiasm was catching, and pretty soon everyone was up on the dance floor, including the DJ (the guy in the kilt!) Notice the Scottish theme happening here?

Just married! There was no way Katie and Norman's bridal party were going to let them drive through town unnoticed.

Congratulations again!

Congratulations to Jill and Nick!

2008-08-12T12:32:00.000-07:00

Yay! Jill and Nick were married on 8.9.08 at the beautiful Water's Edge Resort in Westbrook, Conn. Bill and I were in the wedding, so we don't have many pictures of the ceremony at this point. Most of the pictures we did take before and after the ceremony were with John and Renee's kickarse Nikon, so a link to those photos will come later. In the meantime, here are some photos from our little point-and-shoot digital camera. A good time was had by all!

You can always count on us for a good time!

At some point during the middle of the reception, Renee and I decided it would be just a super idea to do a human pyramid and take a Polaroid photo for the couple's photo guest book. We roped John and Bill (and their bad backs) into being the base. Sam (middle) was supposed to be the top of the pyramid, but she refused to climb on our backs. (At least one of us had some sense at that point.) My chest has been black barred in an attempt to preserve my dignity.

John shows us all how it is done on the dance floor.

Aww, don't laugh at him!

Bill sweeps Ally off of her feet.

Renee and her Dad.

Bill cuts in for a dance with Jill.

So we switched partners.

And then switched again.

Dancing with Sam.

Sneak attack by Bill!

Taking a breather.

"It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes..."
Sammy G (now Sammy L) takes a breather with one of the program fans.

A little make-up touch up from Renee in the bathroom.

And it is time to cut the cake (it was delicious, by the way).

July Updates

2008-07-23T06:30:00.000-07:00

It has been a busy summer for us already, and I can hardly believe we're almost at the end of July. So what have we been up to?

The Greater Raleigh Road Race

On July 4, Bill ran the Greater Raleigh Road Race downtown . I decided to sit this one out, so I was in charge of picture taking and crap holding (extra clothes, race swag, etc.).

Always the planner, Bill examines the course before the race.

Ready, get set, go! (Go get a latte, if your name is Kathleen!)

Heading to the finish line! Now let's go eat some burgers.

July 4 BBQ

Later that day we had some friends and neighbors over for a casual barbecue.

Some of us had grown up quite a bit from last year! Miss Elizabeth enjoyed hanging out with Mr. Jay, as always.

Check out Lizza on July 4th last year!

Family Fun

Every summer our nieces come to visit with their grandparents and us for about two weeks. Sam and Ally arrived last week and have been keeping us busy going to the pool, playing Guitar Hero, and all sorts of other fun things. Last Sunday, we split up into teams and had a pizza making contest in grandma's kitchen.

Grandma and Sam took their pizza making very seriously. Bill, not so much.

Grandpa, Ally and I made a pizza and a work of art. How many pizzas have you seen with smiley faces made out of pepperoni, sausage and peppers?

Good-bye, my love (for now)

2008-07-09T06:24:00.001-07:00

I love coffee. I love it in all forms, from lattes to mochas to ice cream. Coffee and I had a good thing going for a long time. We had our ups and downs of course. There were times when I was a little too dependent. And other times when I was distant. During the last several years we've finally managed to reach a healthy, satisfying relationship.

But that's all over now.

Today is day # 2 of no morning coffee. I am trying to see if I can break myself of my one-cup-in- the-morning habit. I've come a long way from my multiple cups-of-coffee-and-Diet-Cokes-per-day habit in college, and I've been a one-cup-in-the-morning drinker for a couple years now (with the occasional Diet Coke in the afternoon if needed).

But now I want to see if I can give up my one-cup-a-day habit along with my afternoon dalliances with Diet Coke. Why? I don't have a really good reason why.

Here is what I suspect happened. Sometime, probably several weeks or months ago, I must have read something in a magazine or online about how much healthier people would be if they broke their caffeine addictions. Even though I probably just glanced at this information, something got stuck in my head, grew in my subconscious, and now it has sprouted into this slightly crazy and a little punishing experiment. Things like this have happened before (the City of Oaks half marathon, anyone?) and I've learned to just ride these things out and see where they take me.

Sometimes these little challenges I impose on myself result in lasting life changes. Nearly a year after I woke up one day and decided to run a half marathon for no real reason, I am now a regular runner. (I was out there at 6 a.m. this morning, thankyouverymuch.) And other times these oddball ideas just sort of lose steam and give me something to look back on and laugh about.

Yesterday was day # 1 without coffee. It wasn't terrible, but I wasn't exactly Pollyanna Sunshine either. I felt slightly sluggish early in the morning, but by mid-morning my resolve was waning. I was weak. I gave in and had a decaf latte. Is that cheating? Maybe. If it was, I paid for it by the time I got home from work. I had a persistent, dull ache in my head and I ended up going to bed early. I never go to bed early.

Today is day # 2. It is a little better then yesterday. I think running early this morning helped a little bit, although I still felt a bit drowsy when I arrived at work. It didn't help that when I walked in the door my nose was immediately filled with the sweet smell of a mocha latte, courtesy of my boss two offices down. Mmmmmmmm.....mocha latte. In order to keep from storming into her office and ripping it from her hands, I made a deal with myself. I'll try this no-coffee thing for at least a week and then re-evaluate from there. I'm going to let myself have decaf if I want to though. I'm see no need to try and be a hero.

Reason # 1,642 why I hate Newark airport

2008-06-26T10:00:00.000-07:00

They make you go through security twice if your connecting flight is in another terminal.

Now, before you go telling me that we live in a post 9/11 world and that I should be grateful for the added security, I ask you – have you seen some of the people that work for the TSA? The 8-year-old behind me with the Batman backpack was a more imposing crime fighter.

For those of you who aren’t already aware, I was stuck in Newark airport for more than seven hours on Monday because of weather delays, turning what should have been a five and a half hour trip, door to door, into a nearly 14 hour ordeal. (I was coming back from a 65th birthday celebration for my aunt in upstate New York, but that will have to be a different post. I don’t want to drag that happy occasion through this cynical rant.) Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad to be home safe and not dead due to bad weather. But I also had a long time to think about all the reasons why I hate Newark airport and air travel in general. Listing them all would be the equivalent of re-living the entire experience, and that might make head explode. So here is a brief sampling:

# 851 – There is only one wall outlet throughout all of Terminal C. I was the first to find it, and after a few minutes of sitting with my mobile phone plugged in, people started swarming nearby to try and get a juice fix for their mobiles and laptops. Back. Off! Or I will send the Batman kid after you.

#489 – A taco should not cost $8. Anywhere.

# 63 – They have those annoying people transporter carts with the beeping sounds. Note to the drivers: Your vehicle has a steering wheel. Try it some time. You can move it left and right! You can actually steer around traffic, instead of just driving in a straight line and waiting for clusters of people to just part in front of you like Moses and the Red sea.

# 92 – It’s in New Jersey.

And for air travel in general:

#397 – Men, notably hairy men, should not be allowed to wear wife beater shirts in public, especially if they are planning on reaching up into the overhead compartment of a crowded plane. Eeeew.

# 56 – No, I do not want to sign up for your rewards program and earn valuable miles on my next flight. I have a suggestion about where you could put those “valuable miles” and your rewards program, but that is probably against FAA regulations.

# 1,412 – There is a special place in hell for the first class passengers who felt that their special status gave them a right to take up all the room in my peasant-class overhead compartment. I was forced to gate check my bag, impeccably packed, weighed and measured to comply with all carry-on baggage regulations. Normally I don’t mind gate checking, but this time they refused to bring back to the gate once the plane had landed, and I had to wait at the regular baggage carousel for an extra 20 minutes, which, after almost 14 hours, seemed like an eternity.

# 743 – I am always shocked at what some people decide to wear out in public, much less to the airport. I give you “Exhibit A.”

Race for the Cure!

2008-06-17T07:23:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday I ran the 2008 Komen NC Triangle Race for the Cure with a few of my local running buddies and our friend Melora who drove in from Greenville. (From L to R: Jamie, Jackie, Melora, Amy and me.) The Komen Race is the largest road race in North Carolina. More than 23,700 people attended the races and events on Saturday, and the foundation raised a couple million dollars to continue researching a cure for breast cancer.

Melora says she came because we promised her pancakes after the race, which has become a popular (and tasty) post-race tradition lately. We all ran a great race, despite a lot of dodging and weaving around other runners. I've never run in a race this big. We were surrounded by packs of runners throughout almost the entire course. On the one hand it was very motivating, but on the other hand it was difficult to keep up a consistent stride when every few steps you had to move left or right to avoid smashing into someone. I still managed to beat my personal record by 11 seconds (according to my official chip time), so I was pretty pleased. (Although I do wonder if I could have beat my PR by more if I hadn't also been doing an aerobics class on the course. Oh well!)

Bill opted out of this race, but even when he doesn't participate he usually attends to cheer everyone on, hold all of our pre-race crap, and eat pancakes later. Unfortunately, he was suffering from a nasty head cold and sore throat on Saturday, so Sleeping Beauty stayed snuggled in bed that morning as I left the house around 5:30 a.m. to make a 7 a.m. gun time.

I'm not sure when our next race will be as we are entering the hottest part of the year here in the Old North State. It may not be until closer to the fall, which usually has a good line up of fun races. There is a 5-mile race in downtown Raleigh on July 4, but when I get a weekday off from work I usually like to take advantage of it to catch up on some sleep. Besides, the 4th of July race starts at 8 a.m., and by that time of the morning in July there is a chance we could cook our post-race pancakes on the sidewalk.

Boat, meet car. Car, meet boat.

2008-06-10T11:38:00.000-07:00

This meeting has been a long time coming.

I'd been out of my beloved Romany far too long, but last week I finally fitted the Matrix with a proper rack and took my boat down to our old home on Bogue Banks for a visit with my friend, former employer, kickass paddler, and all around nice guy Lamar Hudgens of Barrier Island Kayaks. Lamar was hosting his annual Southern Outer Banks Sea Kayak Symposium, which brings in the best BCU-certified sea kayak coaches from all across the nation and the world. I missed it last year, and I wasn't going to let it happen again.

Isn't this a beautiful sight? (I don't have a lot of pictures from the event because I spent most of it on the water. In my experience, digital camera + water = disaster, so I decided go with being safe instead of sorry.)

Lamar was gracious enough to let me crash at his place, along with his family and about a half dozen of the coaches. Throughout the weekend I was able to catch up with some folks from my paddling past, and I was reminded of how much I love and miss experiencing the water from a sea kayak. To me, paddling a kayak is the closest you can be to the water without actually being in the water. It is a completely different perspective. Sometimes it feels like the boat has become an extension of you. The slightest bit of downward pressure from your leg and hip, or the angle of your paddle placed just so in the water, can make you turn and move as fluidly as any sea creature. I love it, and I can't believe I've let myself be away from that experience for so long.

I spent nearly eight hours on the water Saturday under the tutelage of Russell Farrow, another amazing paddler and all around nice guy. Russell is part owner of Sweetwater Kayaks in Tampa Bay, an old haunt from my latter years at Eckerd College. He also is an experienced expedition paddler. Later this summer, Russell plans to paddle the Arctic in a voyage that he and his team are calling "Vacation to Hell." I will definitely be following his blog.

Prior to arriving at the symposium, I learned from Lamar that the British Canoe Union recently restructured their 1-5 star rating system for paddling skills. Under this new system I am stripped of the three star rating that I earned so many years ago in the San Juan Islands. Luckily, I care more about having and playing with the skills than a star ranking. (And besides, I still have the little patch thingy and award -- they can't take that away from me!) I took Russell's two star class last Saturday, which was similar to the old three star level in terms of material and skills but with some new open canoe stuff for extra flavor. I had a blast, and I was pleased that I hadn't completely lost my touch. I remembered and could perform most of the strokes and rescues pretty well, and I was happy to receive instruction on how to tweak and refine them from Russell and his assistant coaches.

I also met some new friends last weekend, including Amy's brother and his wife. They were so much fun, and it was nice to have a couple people in the class who were closer to my age (most of the people were quite a bit older). Amy's brother and his wife live in the Triangle as well, and we talked about getting together sometime soon with our boats at Falls Lake. I really hope we do that. Paddling with other people is so much more fun!

I also discovered that there is a network of flatwater (read: lakes) paddlers here in the Raleigh area that communicate via meet-up message boards. I'll need to explore that more as well. And now that I have a proper rack on my car, I have no excuse for not getting out there.