The Leather Sack of the Universe

2009-04-18T13:50:00.003-06:00

So. I'm in the library writing a paper, feeling all my undergrad classes in Constitutional Law come crawling slowly back into my brain. It's really going pretty well. I'm considering not double-spacing so that I don't go over the page limit (I may have gotten a little carried away talking about cases, but that stuff is so ridiculously interesting...I'm a nerd, I know.). But I had to stop for a minute.

The part of me that has no self-esteem (which, to be honest, is most of me), constantly questions who exactly I think I am, to be going back to school after a few years out, to be in a DOCTORAL program of all things. Like I can hang intellectually with these people. I got pwned when I tried to lead discussion in my PhD class last week, and my little self-esteem plant that I had managed to grow got pulled up by the roots. I'm just a stressed-out, medicated, overweight, frumpy, chick who is about to cost her family a LOT of money for a dream. Then I think about the sadness of turning in a paper that Dad hasn't read, and I'm overcome with tears and a need to have hashbrowns.

I try to kick my backside mentally. I'm not very good at it yet. I can tell myself that obviously someone in the department thinks I can hang, because they accepted me. And then they gave me funding, even if it at a level where I'm pretty sure I'd qualify for food stamps and Medicaid. And they're trusting me with undergrads come Spring or Fall semester next year. And well, the physical stuff, I'm doing what I can. I actually wear makeup. I straighten my hair from time to time. I miss it being long.

I went a few days ago and spent money that we really don't have buying hippie dresses. Because I was always happiest when I was dressed like that. And I bought sandals. And painted my toenails red. And realized that it's 74 business days until I swap my uniforms, pantyhose, and high heels for my hippie dresses, sandals, and other things I LOVE wearing.

Because I've signed the contract. I'm committed to doing this. I HAVE to jump. Let's face it, this is Noah's college savings account. And I've always been told to play to my strengths. I'm a nerd. I'm a geek. Whatever. I even have the glasses for it and everything.

74 days. Then it's summer vacation forever. And maybe Ramen noodles for me for the next four years. But if you happen to be on OU's campus and see a slightly...erm...curvy, really pale chick be-bopping along wearing a hippie dress and sandals, stop me and we'll get coffee.

2009-03-10T09:15:00.001-06:00

I seem to be inventing new (to me) ways to go crazy. I wonder what's next? Whatever it is, I think it would be better faced after having cheesecake.

2009-02-20T12:11:00.002-06:00

A lot has happened in the last few weeks. Kyle accepted a new job, we told our kids we were leaving (sucked.big.time. Excuse the non-genteel language, but I am rather attached to my non-biological children), I got in a rollover wreck after I hit some black ice and totalled Kyle's beloved SUV, we moved, we replaced the SUV with a minivan, and we have two Sundays and one Wednesday left at the church that's been home to me since my junior year of high school.

My brain and my body, faulty as they are, have chosen this time to short out on me. It's harder than ever to make it through my readings, just when I need to really be able to concentrate since I'm taking a P.h.D class this semester. I'm having bizarre nightmares that I apparently talk during, because at least a couple of times a week, Kyle wakes me up from trying to kill an imaginary spider the size of a labrador retriever or trying to pull off my face. I, who try to never know how much I weigh for obvious reasons, noticed that in the space of a couple of weeks clothes that had fit fine were suddenly snug...then that they didn't fit at all. I went to the doctor and found out that I had gained...well...more than would have been acceptable even if I was preggers, which I'm not. Apparently it's a side effect of one of my meds that she has seen in a LOT of people. So now I'm stuck with lots of extra me. And my eating disordered brain just goes pfffffft because it can't compute the extra weight or any sane way to get rid of it.

I had to go buy big clothes. I weigh more than I weighed when I was nine months pregnant. I CAN'T EVEN READ A BOOK ANYMORE. Can I just say that's really, really frustrating for a geek?

Sucks.

So I'm trying to stumble into a healthy way to do this thing we call life. I've made lists. I've made schedules. And my brain sits in the corner of my head, crossing its arms and saying "Make me."

Stupid brain.

So I'm going to take my lists and my schedules and give myself a freaking gold star every time I do the smallest thing on any of them. And try to hate myself a little bit less tomorrow than I do today.

2009-01-16T14:24:00.002-06:00

Today I am doing good to be moving. I'm not really functional, more just an automaton that sits in Brie's usual spot. I'm kinda just keeping the chair warm, and not really doing well at that, since I've been freezing since I got here. I had three pathetic goals for the day, and had broken two of them by 7:30 this morning. My head is killing me, I want a nap, and I just want everything to stop for a while.

Can anyone manage to stop the earth from rotating on its axis for a few hours? Anybody? ::waits:: No? Well, then I'll stop whining then. Ugh.

2008-12-28T04:22:00.003-06:00

Happy birthday, dear Noah, happy birthday to you!

People told us before Noah was born, when I was roughly the size of a whale, that babies change your lives in ways you can't imagine. "Yeah, no kidding." I thought to myself. "Such deep and profound advice. I'll be able to see my feet again for starters. I remember my feet. I assume they're still there, because it doesn't FEEL like I'm walking around with no feet." Turns out that it kinda was deeper advice than I thought it was. It started with his birth. Most of you know of the years and years of body image issues/eating disorder/depression I have been dealt. I did not purge while I was pregnant, and loved my body. Mostly. I could have passed on the stretch marks, but at least it was for something worthwhile and not because I ate a few too many burritos. At any rate, I have never felt more powerful than when I gave birth. It shot from my head all the way down to my toes, and for once I understood why some ancient cultures thought of a goddess as the powerful giver of life. I WAS powerful. I WAS strong. And we made a beautiful little boy.

Who grew. Whose every coo and smile and word we made a huge deal over. A year ago, he had just learned to walk and had about 20 words in his vocabulary. Now, he tells me that "I runnin'." and has six and seven word SENTENCES. When he was born, there was lots of snuggling, and I loved that, but somehow it's even cooler when he says "Mama? I hug you, I give you kiss." and then he does. What don't I love about this kid? Well, he is two now. And "acts two" now from time to time, but by and large he is a laid back, cool kid. I love him more than I knew it was possible to love someone, and look forward to watching him grow up even more, at the same time wishing that I had my baby back in my arms just for an hour.

I could go for volumes about this child, but I won't subject you to that. Unless you come over and ply me with hot tea for stories, because although I thought that having a 72 degree day was awesome, my allergies have disagreed vehemently and I am quite miserable. I am glad we are not doing the party until the third. Instead, I give you what he has become today: Noah, the dinosaur wrangler.

FYI: These were presents from Grams and Sam for Christmas, and this was Christmas night. And Noah was yelling "I a cowboy! Yeeeeeee ha! Giddyup dinosaur!" It. was. adorable.

2008-12-08T04:37:00.004-06:00

Hooray, it's the post of the cute Noah stories! Because it's 4:30 in the morning, I am awake, and of course if I can't sleep I SHOULD be working on papers, but I would much rather tell you about my adorable kid.

Story #1:
Kyle is in the living room, Noah is playing in his room. We've actually reached the point where Noah will play by himself sometimes, and it is marvelous. Of course, he's just as likely to walk up to you and say, "C'mere! Play!" and who could turn THAT down, but I digress. Noah in his room, Kyle in the living room. The next thing Kyle hears is Noah asking, "I get in water?"

"No, son, you don't need in the water right now." Still from the living room.

"I not in trouble." Which is pretty much a guarantee that he IS, so off Kyle goes to Noah's room. He took the top off of his humidifier and dropped part of the filter into the reservoir. Hence the "I get in water?" I'm a little concerned that we're already getting the "I'm innocent!!!" speech and we're still three weeks shy of two years old.

Holy crow. He's going to be two years old in three weeks. Ack. Well, on to story number two.

Story #2:

We put up the Christmas tree. This process took several days, because every time we added something new to the tree, it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. First there was just the tree. We didn't turn the lights on, even though it was prelit. Noah tried to throw himself under the tree. In his defense, if I was two years old, I would think it was a great hidey-hole. Then came the lights and the tree skirt. That's when we got this conversation, with Kyle holding on to Noah's legs so that he couldn't make good on his request: "Mama, I go under? I go under?"

"Nope, the tree is just to look at. Isn't it pretty? Look, you can touch if you just use one finger." (I thought I was sooooooo smart. Unbreakables only on everything he could reach. I didn't know he'd poke every single one. Over and over.)

"Mama, I go under? Tree share blankeck (blanket, for those of you who don't speak Noah.). Tree SHARE BLANKECK!"

He has yet to make it under the tree but has started unwrapping presents. None of them have been his yet, and apparently I was way worse at his age, so I am grateful for his restraint.

On to story number three.

Story #3:

Kyle is in the living room, Noah is in the kitchen. Pretty much our whole house is kidproof, so no biggie. Kyle hears Noah saying, "Apples? Apples?" Noah LOVES fruit. Loves it. Will eat it when he will not even eat chicken and fries, which are one of his favorite things since I went through a McDonalds drive through in a moment of parental weakness a few months ago. So to hear him talking about apples is nothing new. Kyle thinks to himself, "Well, we do have apples, but they're in that bowl way up on the counter, so he's probably pointing to the apples."

Silence ensues. Kyle goes to investigate.

Noah has moved his highchair over to the counter, climbed INTO the chair, grabbed the bowl of apples, and proceeded to help himself to ONE BITE out of every apple in the bowl. All 11 of them. He was quite pleased with himself, and probably would have been in a bit of trouble if Kyle could have stopped giggling long enough to get on to him.

So, there you have it. Three super-cute Noah stories on the almost eve of his second birthday. I was looking at some pictures of him when he was tiny, and it really makes my uterus argue with me. "You grow such pretty babies! Look at that!" while my brain goes "P.h.D. P.h.D. At least have the common sense to shoot for the summer, which means you are out for this go round, chick. Oh, and should probably consider getting your head on straight before getting preggers again, and if you wanted to clean your house out to the point where you would have a PLACE for a baby besides a dresser drawer someplace that would be good too." Sigh. The debates between heart (or uterus, as the case may be), and head.

2008-12-06T09:02:00.003-06:00

Noah REALLY gets into playing the piano at Granny's house. This is him, Abbey, and Sam. Notice how Noah's rocking out and Abbey is delicately playing one key at a time.

2008-12-01T13:07:00.001-06:00

As Grams asks, so I provide. She wanted this pic of Noah from Burton and Annette's...ta da!

I have to have the cutest kid in the known universe. Look at that smile!!!!!!

2008-11-19T06:40:00.002-06:00

Here we have additional photographic evidence that I may have the cutest kid in the world, even though he is getting perilously close to the notoriously cranky age. I bought this toy box from a super-nice lady on Craigslist. I brought it home, Noah helped me put his books and his blocks up on the shelves, and we had a rather idyllic moment. Then he climbed into the toy box, said "Cave, mama!" and started pulling all of his books in with him. I just laughed and laughed- I used to drag my books under the bed and read under there in MY cave. Of course, it was such a made for picture-taking moment that I grabbed the camera, and then Noah wouldn't let me STOP taking pictures. He kept saying "Picture, mama. Cheese!!!!" So there you have it. And now, the pictures.

Oh, and Noah really liked the cake at Abbey's party, probably because my sister made a really good cake with homemade frosting. We have high hopes that he will actually eat HIS cake at his birthday party this year, rather than just crying about the fact that he has icing on his hands.

2008-11-10T12:13:00.002-06:00

For Julie, who I know comes by for the cute Noah stories:

There are glow in the dark stars on the ceiling of Noah's room. I haven't had time to put them up as proper constellations yet (what? He's only almost two years old. HOLY CROW. HE IS ALMOST TWO. Who the heck approved that?!!!!), but he does love looking at them. He is now at a point where the bedtime routine goes something like this:

Me: Noah, are you ready to go to bed?
Noah (as he walks down the hall toward his room): Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Me: You want to sit in the chair?
Noah (as he climbs into the chair): CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIR! Door, mama.

Then he starts walking across the room. In the dark. And singing. It sounds something like this: "Winkle, winkle....star. Wonder....are."

Yes. He is singing Twinkle, twinkle little star. And it is adorable. The rest of the conversation goes like this, as I stumble across the room and try not to trip over the aforementioned adorable child.

Noah: Mama? Blankeck (translation: blanket), mik (translation:milk) please.
Me: Which song do you want, Noah?
Noah: Horsie!
Me: (Sings "All the Pretty Little Horses", thank you to Junior's Bedtime Songs for teaching me this one.) Do you want another one?
Noah (as he is drinking his milk): mmmmm!
Me: Do you want Lullaby?
Noah: MMMMMM! (That was a happy one, like 'Oh, Mama realized that I want the same song I have wanted for the last three weeks. Smart Mama. I'll get her trained yet.')
Me: (Sings Brahm's Lullaby. Thanks to Junior's Bedtime Songs again.)

Then I get him his pillow, lay him down, and leave him to fall asleep. I wish I could bottle the happy feeling that comes when he sings Winkle Winkle. No one would need anti-depressants! I don't think I could get it through the FDA, though.

2008-11-03T12:31:00.005-06:00

See, you're already smiling. Aren't you glad you came by today? This is the first installment of Halloween pictures. Enjoy cute Noah, semi-adorable me and Kyle, a few cool graveyard pictures, and thena picture of Sam, the Ukrainian supermodel. Dragon pictures of Noah will be forthcoming (a.k.a the third day of Halloween).

Oooooh, a creepy graveyard. Ooooooooooooh!

On the first day of Halloween, my sweatheart gave to me a tiger standing byyyyyyy a tree.

On the second day of Halloween my sweetheart gave to me a son wired from eating candy.

My husband is a kilt-wearin' fairy. An ominous kilt-wearin' fairy. Grrrrrrr. So tough!

Noah really likes playing with blocks. He got to play with THREE kinds of blocks when we went to Del City. He was in toddler boy heaven.

This isn't technically Halloween. This was Daddy and Noah watching Sunday afternoon football after church. A grand time was had by all.

I love, love, love this picture of Sam. My little brother is so handsome!

2008-10-29T13:03:00.003-06:00

I found the perfect car for me.

I want it more than is entirely reasonable. It is a car that calls out to me to be named, and its siren song has made me call my husband three times in the last ten minutes to tell him about different features that this temptress of a car has.

And I am such a mom now. Is it a a cute little sporty car? Noooooooo. It's a 1998 Volvo Station Wagon. It's black. It has a tan leather interior. It's only got 74K miles on it. I drive 100+ miles a day for work and school, and as a result the 2006 vehicle that I've had for two years has 71K miles on it. And I bet the Volvo has cruise control. My car (yes, that I drive for 100+ miles a day. That one.) does not have cruise control.

It's $4000. If I could get rid of my car today and get this thing, I would. I e-mailed my Mom to ask her if I told Santa I was very, very, very good this year she thought that I could convince him to give me this car for Christmas. I wouldn't mind going to many malls and talking to Santa many times. You know, kinda be like the woman in the Bible that just kept nagging and nagging until she finally got what she wanted? I could nag Santa.

I just think that if I'm going to be spending more than two hours a day in a car, I should do it in one that supports me with leather-covered comfort, a vrooooomy engine, and cruise control. Oooooh, I wonder if it has the heated seats. Must check on heated seats.

So, if anyone knows a good way to get in touch with Santa, let me know. Because I have been pretty darn good, and a little spoiling never hurt anybody. Just ask Noah.

2008-10-20T16:37:00.003-06:00

I just had to share this, even though I was still getting used to my new camera and not paying attention, hence the fact that it's 90 degrees from where it should be. No matter, it's cute enough that it's worth tilting your head for 20 seconds. Noah was at the farm, and was very impressed with the kitty.

2008-10-13T17:06:00.006-06:00

Since I've been a Brie-eee downer lately, who wants to see some adorable Noah pictures? I knew you would. One pre-haircut, the rest post first haircut at the farm where he was spoiled shamelessly by Granny and Pappy this weekend. I don't know which of them had more fun-Pappy, Granny, or Noah. Noah got to pet horses, and ride the four wheeler, and help drive the tractor...but Pappy and Granny got to watch their great grandbaby doing all that stuff. It was probably a draw. Oh, and I've thrown in some bonus pictures with Miss Abigail. Enjoy!

2008-10-07T10:34:00.002-06:00

Next week is depression awareness week, so in honor of that, allow me to give you a glimpse inside the dark and cobwebby recesses of my brain in a probably vain attempt to explain what it feels like from the inside out.

This weekend, I wound up comparing my brain to a swimming pool.

Story: Sam came and spent the weekend with us. He's my little brother, and he just turned 10 years old. We were riding in the car when Sam decided that it was "Serious Conversation Time." He turned to me and led off with the big one: "Why did my Dad have to die when I was so young?" I answered, hoping that I wasn't sowing the seeds of something that would someday put him in therapy, "I don't know, honey. I don't understand it, either." He asked a few more Dad questions, then asked about me going in the hospital. Hospitals, understandably so, freak him out quite a bit. I told him I went to the hospital so that the doctors could work on my head and made some joke about it. He asked what was wrong, and I told him I was depressed. He asked what THAT was, and I tried to explain it as best I could. I told him that I had been very, very sad for a very, very long time, and the doctor called that depression. He asked why I was sad. I got to try to explain brain chemistry. Which led me to the pool, since Sam helps Mom do the pH testing on her pool and then pours the stuff in to correct the balance. That seemed to satisfy him.

So, my brain is a pool. A stagnant, algae filled pool at the moment, apparently. Depression is something that runs in my family- it practically gallops. (Props to you if you just caught the Arsenic and Old Lace reference.) My Dad had it. My grandma had it. My great-grandma was put in the hospital for it. So it really shouldn't have come as a surprise when the psychiatrist who did my assessment in the hospital told me that I was depressed. He said that depression is like wearing really dark glasses that magnify everything- everything seems dark, and at the same time seems so huge that it is completely overwhelming. Simple things aren't simple anymore, and even the most mundane tasks take so much effort that they just don't seem to be worth the expenditure of energy.

I wish that I could explain how pathetic I feel being sick like this. Depression is suffocating, and real, and not something that I can "just shake off" or "get over", no matter how much I wish that I could. It's like a huge, heavy, immobile lead comforter. It doesn't cover you up in a nice, snuggly, cozy way. It swallows you up in a not so comforting, completely isolating way. After all, who would want to snuggle with you if you're under a 300 pound comforter made of metal? It's not exactly a scene set for romance and camaraderie.

I am 27 years old. I am a wife, and a mom, and a grad student. I remember when I was motivated to do all kinds of things all by myself. Work? No problem! 70 page paper? Who needs sleep! Cooking and cleaning and being relatively healthy? Just one more thing to check off the list.

Now it's like I'm a pitiful six year old. Kyle prods me to get out of bed, to take a shower, to use soap, and to go to work. He reminds me to take my medicine. He basically takes care of the house since all of my energy is used up on crazy things like personal hygeine and making myself get out of bed. I have to read things for class over and over to try to get my brain to retain at least SOME of the material I'm supposed to be able to discuss, which is never something I had to do before.

Even though the logical side of me KNOWS that this isn't something that I can will myself out of, or just work harder and suddenly snap out of it...the rest of me feels terribly weak, and I blame myself for not being able to "just suck it up and get on with my life." I feel completely inept. Accompanying the depression for me is not just a lack of self-esteem but an abundance of self-loathing. It sounds melodramatic and overly angst-ridden, but I literally cannot think of things that I don't screw up. I wish with everything I have in me that I could snap my fingers and make it stop. My brain is not a pleasant place to be. Along with the weakness, the apathy, the anger, the sadness....comes a loss of control. It's like I'm watching someone else just sit there...and not do things.

I know that my life is not bad. I have a great husband and an adorable baby. I have a job. I have the ability to go to see doctors and to get the medicine that I need. We can buy groceries and diapers and even have a little left over . Depression isn't the result of a "woe is me" attitude where if I could just compare myself to the starving children in Africa or the people who are trying to escape militias in Rwanda I would be OK. It is a brain storm of the non-creative kind.

I am doing therapy. I am taking medicine. I am trying to get better. But it is so, so hard. It is exhausting beyond words, and there are many days where I can't seem to make myself think that it is worth the energy that it will take to fight to do so.

Erm. So. Yes.

I guess I said all that because I can't explain out loud what it is like. Because I'm angry and isolated and blame myself for so many things that are going on...but the monster in my head says that it's just further proof of how absolutely worthless I am. Working on that. One of my girlfriends sent me this WONDERFUL book that I completely adore, and it has an affirmation in it that I really like: You have enough. You do enough. You are enough. I don't believe it all yet, but maybe if I say it enough I will.

So, I guess I'll finish up by yoinking some lyrics from one of my favorite bands, Blue October. The lead singer has dealt with mental illness and drug addiction, and is very forthright about that in their songs. They have a song called Overweight, which is about recovery. Here's a few lines that are particularly pertinent:

ever carried the weight of another?

for how long?

or walk as far as they need to recover?

for how long?

when you're sick you seem to think you failed eternally

and that the people you let in are only crumbling

i’m effing sick of faking life and this recovery

when my decisions paved the road that lies in front of me

so to the friends that even call that i don’t call back

i hold you deep inside my heart upon a hill

it seems to hide sometimes to run away and wonder

i’m really sick of saying sorry but i will

i wanna learn to walk with others as an equal

i wanna treat the ones who love me with respect

i wanna tell the world i’ll give them all a piggy back

and try to take away my negative affect

i'm floating far away....

***

So, thanks to the ones that carry me when I can't carry myself. My family, Pam, and my Julie especially have been my posse. I'm working on it. I am broken but Kyle tells me that I am still in here somewhere. Here's to coming back soon.

If you have someone in your life who is fighting mental illness, or if you are, please know that it is real. It can be debilitating, and it sucks. I really don't think it has to last forever, though. I catch glimpses sometimes of myself in here. It's like the sun popping through the clouds. It's reassuring and frustrating all at the same time. Reassuring because it lets me know that there still is something here of the woman that I was (and I suppose, still am), but frustrating because it doesn't stay. Maybe one day it will.

2008-09-25T22:51:00.002-06:00

Dear USC-

Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really appreciate you completely sucking tonight and losing to Oregon State, even if it meant that I nearly gave myself a hernia by NOT screaming when Oregon State got that last minute interception that made my heart go pitter-patter. My son is asleep, you see, and so he doesn't know yet that the team that was number 1 before tonight isn't going to number 1 any more. We'll tell him in the morning, right after we sing the good morning song and tell him how much we love him. We'll tell him it's an even better day because you lost last night. To an unranked team.

Thank you for sacrificing yourselves and your coach to bring such joy to the heart of a 22 month old boy.

Assuming that we don't pull a you tomorrow when we play TCU, I think we have a nice little stretch coming up.

And even if we do lose, you lost first.

Ahhhhhhhh. I love college football.

Sleep well.

Love,

2008-09-19T11:09:00.002-06:00

Today...

Today I actually got to work on time, with my lunch packed, and a bottle of water in my purse.

Three points for me!

I did not, however, do yoga this morning, quit drinking soda today, or resist picking up a few (actually a few!) of the cinnamon sugar chips that were leftover at work from Ted's catering yesterday.

So I lose three points there.

I think today is, so far, a no-score win.

2008-09-17T10:51:00.002-06:00

Dear Kyle-
Thank you for taking such good care of me today. I needed a posse, and you were a very good one.

Love,
me

2008-09-16T13:23:00.003-06:00

Oh, and here are some Noah pictures. Because everyone needs to see Noah pictures. :)

Despite the adorableness that I usually post, he's not ALWAYS smiling. Shocking, I know. Pitiful, too.

He usually smiles, though. See exhibit A: Daddy has gotten better at doing zerberts.

FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
He's not getting disembowled, he's just running around with a bucket on his head.

2008-09-16T13:18:00.002-06:00

Mom told me to drink more water and exercise four or five times a week.

Do you think that walking up and down the library stairs (my hidey-hole to study in is on the 4th floor) counts?

Water, water...the irony of my Mom telling me to drink water is terribly amusing. She has Diet Coke in her veins. If she's having a bad day, people keep bringing her 44 oz. cokes until it looks like she has spent the day doing really big shots of something.

But she's probably right.

So. Water. And yoga. And walking.

And sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.......................

2008-09-15T14:31:00.003-06:00

WARNING! WARNING! WHINING WILL COMMENCE IN 5.......4.......3......2......1!

I am so stinking tired. And it's not because I'm out (or in) playing around doing fun stuff and not sleeping. It's more like, after sleeping for eight or nine hours, I can hardly keep awake on the way to work. I was hoping that something would show up in the huge battery of bloodwork that my new doctor just ordered, but no dice. So now I'm left sitting here KNOWING that something is wrong but having no idea what it is. Getting to work on time? Psh. Staying coherent for class? Not so much. I almost had a panic attack last week because I couldn't get the words to come out of my mouth right and I felt like an idiot. I'm sitting there KNOWING that I have to do well (I'm on academic probation due to my undergrad record) and KNOWING that I can't seem to quite get things right. I practically transcribed my reading for my Tuesday night class and I still couldn't tell you what I read. It's so frustrating.

And also, did I mention that I'm tired? It feels like a huge, whiny cop-out to say, "Well, the doctor says that I'm depressed, and so I guess that's why I'm tired." After I take medicine. And see a therapist. And a psychiatrist. And a medical doctor. And spend two weeks in a hospital, for crying out loud.

Maybe I need to do yoga. Or something. I have great admiration for people who stick with recovery for any period of time, because I am melting and my brains may be coming out of my ears and I think I would just like to cry and sleep and then cry and then sleep for a few days. Weeks. Months. Whatever. I'll come out for Christmas, because I bought a new tree. On clearance, in late January, and it is perfect for those families whose boys are EXTREMELY allergic to real Christmas trees. As both of mine are. And we may actually do icicles this year, and hope that Noah doesn't eat too many of them. I'm pretty sure they are non-toxic.

*End of Whining*

Not too sound too bipolar, but it's worth noting that my son is adorable. And a genius. He's an adorable genius. Sunday we went to church with Kyle's family, and Noah wore khakis, a polo shirt, and an argyle knit sweater vest. He didn't LEAVE worship wearing all of those clothes, but he was wearing them when we started. And he was absolutely adorable. I couldn't get over the adorable.

Then we were home in the afternoon, and a couple of our friends were over. Noah was running around, then plopped down with Mr. Bear in the living room. Since we are inordinately proud of his speaking abilities (you know, all those that they have at almost 21 months old), Kyle was trying to get Noah to answer a question. "Noah, who is your favorite baseball player?" Noah: blank stare. "Come on, Noah, who is your favorite baseball player." Noah: blank stare, wrestle with Mr. Bear. "I was trying to get him to say Pujols again, but I guess it won't work." One of our friends chimed in with, "Yeah, Dad, I'm not a trained monkey."

At which point Noah burst into monkey noises. Complete with scratching.

Awesome.

2008-09-04T12:52:00.008-06:00

In the interests of me refraining from entering the political fray, I offer new Noah pictures instead. Oh, and big hugs for Kyle for getting me an iPod shuffle for my birthday. I never would have thought of asking for one, but it's perfect- it'll be great for hanging out studying in the library AND for distracting myself while I'm sweating at the Y. And it's purple, so bonus points for him. I was very surprised and very excited. I'm building playlists now. Happy. :) Oh, and how cute are my boys?

Noah getting Mommy snuggles. He could not escape, but didn't seem to mind too much.

This will be great for when he runs for president someday. Future vetters take note: he is NOT nude. He is wearing a diaper.

Just in case you ever happen to babysit Noah, take note: sometimes "Color?" apparently means, "Mom, I just want to carry all my chalk around at once and not draw anything at all."

2008-08-29T09:21:00.002-06:00

Whooooooooooooooooo! I won't vote for someone just because they have a uterus, but if they have a uterus and I agree with them I will vote for them. I applaud John McCain for nominating Gov. Sarah Palin. I know she's younger, but she has got such a good head on her shoulders. I would rather have someone with common sense in office than someone who'd been in Washington for 20 years. More later. Yippee!

2008-08-13T08:51:00.004-06:00

Quick update on me, for those of you who for inexplicable reasons keep returning to the blog: I have read Breaking Dawn (I think) three whole times and have also read good sized chunks of it four or five more times. I am contemplating buying a magnet I saw online that says "My heart belongs to my husband, but Edward can have my neck." Kyle is taking all of this in good humor. I start school in two weeks. I have bought most of my books, courtesy of half.com, but have a couple left to get. I am also contemplating investing in a laptop. It's a lot of money (although I have found a WONDERFUL deal), but I figure if I use it for the whole time I'm in school it wouldn't be so bad. I know from experience how much easier it is to write in a quiet library than it is to write in a noisy house, so I know I would get a lot of use out of it. And, although I am slightly ashamed to admit it, the fact that I could get one in dark purple (and the fact that it comes with biometric security features standard, which is way cool) is a selling point. I. am. such. a. girl. sometimes. At least I don't want the pink one anymore. I'm pretty sure that would have been worse.

In medical news, I am still trying to find a psychiatrist to help me with my meds. I am exhausted- I'm sleeping 9 or 10 hours a night most nights and am still so exhausted that my brain doesn't work very well. I have to call people to talk to on the way into work most mornings so that I can stay awake. It is decidedly uncool, and I'm not sure that it will get better when school starts, considering the fact that I've been going to bed by 9:00 most nights...but that my classes won't even get out until 10:00, and then I have an hour or so drive to get home. Blech. Still kinda but not really looking for another job. My psychiatrist told me that I needed to be working somewhere else- somewhere that I don't have so much down time, somewhere that doesn't require such a commute. The down time should take care of itself when school starts, and the commute is kinda of a necessity for now since our free child care is 15 minutes away from here. That doesn't make it any easier, though. The bills have started rolling in, and every time I check the mail I panic a little bit. Rationally, I know that I HAD to go to the hospital. It's just that if you are already stressed about money, the fact that $10,000.00 worth of claims for your hospital stay are processing isn't really something that calms you down. I have bizarre dreams almost every night (I never remembered my dreams before), but as of yet have had nothing that I could turn into a series of best selling novels. Keeping my fingers crossed on that one.

In very cool news, Noah now says "I love you" to me and Kyle on occassion. Grandma got Noah's first one a few weeks ago, and now Kyle and I each have a couple on our records. We actually caught him saying it on camera, which makes me very happy. I desperately need to get the footage we have taken of him edited and on real DVDs- we don't use the camera that often, so I think I have fewer than 10 discs of video- but it's such precious stuff!!! Noah trying to roll over for the first time, Noah running through leaves with Daddy, Noah playing with Abbey and Sam...anyway, I need to get that stuff transferred and copies made and such. I am seriously considering getting a safe deposit box just so I can keep copies of our memory DVDs out of the house. Stuff like our wedding, Noah's ultrasound and birth videos, and the stuff that we've taken since we got here. I am a sap, what can I say? Noah's also started helping pick out his clothes. His favorite pair of pajamas has a fuzzy pair of puppies on the front, so when he's about ready to get out of the bath, he'll start saying "Puppies? Puppies?" It is worth noting that NO other pajamas are acceptable once the puppies have been requested. Today he wanted to wear his new elephant shirt. He can't SAY elephant, but he can pretend to be one. So the elephant shirt it was. His vocabulary seems to get bigger every day. Unfortunately, so do the fits that he is starting to throw when he doesn't get his way. They don't last for very long, but the frequency has kicked up quite a bit. Maybe he'll get through it quickly........

Hey. It could happen.

Since you've made it this far, here's a cute picture. SOOOOO much better than a gold star, huh?

2008-08-04T07:40:00.007-06:00

I haven't posted in ages. I haven't dumped my camera to have new pictures to share in ages. I moved everything yesterday, though, so here is the infamous baby wipes battle that my little sister took pictures of. The adorable little girl is my neice, Abigail. She's six weeks older than Noah.
That last one is Kung Fu Abbey. She's moving so fast the wipes are blurry. Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiya!

We've been trying to do some cleaning lately. Noah likes to help dust- I pull out the Swiffer and he starts saying "Brush?? Brush??" So I gave it to him and he helped. And then posed in the middle of the kitchen floor. He started saying "Cheeeeeeeeeeeeese!" and wouldn't move until I took a picture. Ha.

We've been thinning the herd of baby things, and so I pulled Noah's bouncer down from the attic to get it on Craigslist. He hadn't been able to sit in it since we was about 6 months old, because that's when he figured out that he could tip it over if he wanted to get out. He was suddenly very interested in it again when he saw it sitting in the study.

Just for reference, here's Noah sleeping in the same bouncer when he was a month old......
OK, I know those were a ton of pictures, but here's just a couple more shots of cuteness to leave you with. One of Noah sleeping as only a little guy can, and one of him looking out the door. With pretty lighting, courtesy of the sun.

2008-07-12T14:06:00.002-06:00

I AM HOME!

Obviously, I can't fix ten years worth of stuff in two weeks, but I have a good start and am actually optimistic. The boys made it without me and I made it without them, but you'd better believe that there's going to be some catch up family time happening for the Parkers.

I met some awesome people. My posse (Alexis and Julie), my psychiatrist, and a couple of the techs theere were wonderful.

More later, I'm sure. I get to go pack for camp now. :) Thanks to all for your positive thoughts, prayers, and cards. I appreciate every one of them.

2008-06-27T14:30:00.003-06:00

I leave tomorrow morning to start intensive outpatient therapy for bulimia and depression at a hospital in Tulsa.

I. am. leaving.

My brain just cannot go there. The idea of leaving Noah (I will miss Kyle, too, but he's a big boy and took care of himself for a long time before I came on the scene.) for two weeks just makes me want to bawl.

I am packed. Maps are printed, reservations made, and work arrangements taken care of (mostly).

Nothing to do now but go.

Talk to you all in a couple of weeks...

2008-06-15T09:20:00.000-06:00

Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

I miss you.

Love, me.

2008-06-06T12:07:00.009-06:00

Oh, lots of pictures coming. This is what happens when someone who is already addicted to taking pictures gets a new camera. But first, a story.

Noah is smart. I know, I know...I'm his mama, so I don't count. But he is one very, very observant little man, and a few days ago I got a glimpse of my future. I think I may be in trouble.

My wonderful, wonderful parents-in-law watch Noah for me a couple of days during the week. They are masters at raising children, having raised four of their own, so I watch and learn. I am learning, for example, the value of diversion as a parenting tool. If they want Noah to go somewhere, say, the living room, but he doesn't want to go (and so lets loose with a shriek that would peel the paint from the walls), they start saying "One, two! One, two!" and walking him along. He gets so caught up in "One, two!" that he forgets that he was upset in the first place.

Last Thursday, I was trying to get Noah out the door to run a few errands. He wanted to go to the backyard. So, what did he two? He got behind me, started pushing on my backside as hard as he could, and began chanting "Oooooone! Twwwwwwooo!" in his little baby voice.

Adorable, but I think I'm in trouble.

He has sentences now- "Where'd he go?" "Whatcha got?" "Whatisit?" are the three distinguishable ones so far. His "Hi!" and "Bye!" are extremely cute. Except when he's closing the door on you so that you can't get him, or running the other way when you're already late. Eh. It's still cute then, I suppose. Just inconvenient. He's growing so fast...

Look for a post later this week on Sam, my little brother. I'm sure that most of you read Patrick Mead's blog (and if you don't, you should), but a few days ago he had a post about standing in the gap. My Mom and Dad LEPT into the gap almost 8 years ago and adopted my little brother from Ukraine. You will not believe the story. You will have to forgive lots of rambling, sentiment, and pictures, but Sam's story really is an amazing one.

OK. So. Noah pictures. Here we go.

Kyle took these first few, and did a lovely job. Noah loves to be outside- so Kyle took him outside, filled up a one-ring pool, and let Noah jump right in. Wearing the hat, of course, although it looks like Noah was spared getting Mommy's "burn-if-you-look-at-the-sun-Irish-skin" which is good.

Coming up for air from sticking his face in the water. I think the hat is wet, too....back to Mommy-taken pictures now. I think Noah is going to think the camera is part of my hand. Go, go, gadget camerahand!

Kyle leads worship every Sunday morning. We were wandering around the building early one morning when he discovered Daddy's microphone lying untended on the pew. How cute is this?

My goal is to be this happy in church one of these days. Look at that face! Oh, you have so much to teach me, little man. I can teach you the Amendments and the Preamble, and about kinematics and the laws of motion and why the sky is blue, but you can teach me about joy and love and living in the moment. There's no other way to live when you're a year and a half old!

Aunt Em gave Noah this pushcar when he was learning to walk. We had some friends over, and after Gracie pushed Noah around for a while, he decided to return the favor. This will SO be in her Senior slideshow someday....

Possibly the most gorgeous baby in the whole world. No bias here at all. Working on getting the picture less blurry.......

The joy of a bounce and spin zebra. Thanks, Auntie K!

2008-05-19T14:20:00.005-06:00

No great wisdom today, just a bunch of really cute pictures of Noah. He doesn't really take any other kind, but at least these are cute and properly exposed. Enjoy!

This one is for my Mom. Noah has the same habit as a great-grandmother that I never met, and she wanted a picture of him walking around with his hands behind his back. Ta-da!

This is the face that Noah makes after dunking his Nerf basketball. I think that getting that little basketball net may be the best $3.99 I've spent in recent memory. He LOVES it!

We got to spend quite a bit of time with Grandma and Grandpa this weekend. This is in their backyard (which is GORGEOUS), and taken just before Noah licked the rose. I think he thinks that anything that smells so good must taste good, too.

For Papa Bear.

2008-05-13T08:48:00.008-06:00

Today is Kyle and mine's third anniversary. Our relationship has been tried by fire a bit more than some others have been at such an early point, and we're doing OK. Since we've known each other, he has stuck by me through emergency surgery, a few ER visits, and brain surgery. He has been with me through the deaths of two of my grandmas. He was the person I could cry on when I knew someplace deep inside that my Dad was NOT going to get better, even if the doctor hadn't told Dad that yet. He was with me through the hardest week of my life, when we took care of Dad while he was dying and didn't know who we were any more. There were so many times that he could have left. But he didn't. We got married a few months later, went on a wonderful honeymoon to our special treehouse, and came back and went to church camp. Since then, we have had a few challenges come up, but the one thing I have never, ever had to worry about is whether he loved me. He's a sap, and I love him for it. A little over a year into our marriage, we found out that we were going to have a baby. Now we have Noah and I get to watch Kyle with him, and it is the greatest gift I could ever, ever receive.

This isn't to say it's been all roses. We are both very independent, very strong-willed (read: stubborn and pig-headed), and very, well, stereotypically Irish in some ways. Dad always told me that we would have the most spectacular fights. I remember very clearly being at a youth group area wide the weekend before our wedding. It was held at the state capitol building, so of course I went. We got into one of those "so-mad-I'm-walking-away-from-you" fights. ABOUT EDUCATION POLICY. Seriously. Then I went to the bathroom and came back and told him that the toilets were made by the "Church Toilet company" and shouldn't we argue about the "separation of church and state" instead and we laughed and made up. Then we laughed about the fact that we got into an argument over something so silly.

Now if we have a spat, we play with the munchkin (who can be annoyed when you're doing THAT?), watch an episode of House Hunters, or grab some caffeine and kill pixelated mobs together. It seems to work pretty well. Although Kyle says that gardening is his therapy, and my yard looks absolutely gorgeous. Maybe I'm missing something...

I am so blessed to have a husband that I know is a man of honor, who will protect me, encourage me, and help me to be a better woman.

Staying in the mushy vein, here are a few wedding pictures to share. Love and hugs to all of the friends and family who have been such a source of support to get us through the first few years of marriage. Y'all might want to stick around for a while- we need all the help we can get!

2008-05-09T10:18:00.004-06:00

We had a fantastic day yesterday. I have to share some pictures. He is so adorable when he gets focused on something. He loves to play with blocks and build things...and roar and knock over the towers as if he were some toddler human Godzilla.

How cute is this face? Kyle is doing some editing to get it more focused (and I'm getting a new camera so we don't have this problem any more, and courtesy of my employee discount and selling the old one, I'm only going to be out of pocket about $125 for a really, really good camera.... WHOOOOOOOOO!)

We had LOTS of rain over the last few days, which made Noah very happy when he found Daddy's firebowl while we were out in the yard. He is never happier than when he was outside- I think he gets it from his grandpa and from Daddy. He wanted to share the charcoal with me...this is BEFORE he decided to see what burnt cedar tasted like. For the record, he was not a fan. And yes, he is completely soaked.

2008-04-28T22:23:00.004-06:00

Noah had his first Oreo experience when he was home with Daddy, and contrary to the seeming evidence of the photograph, he really did enjoy the whole thing. He's had a rough couple of weeks. He's been sick off and on, more off than on, and you can tell that he was feeling REALLY pitiful because when we went outside the other night, all he wanted to do was sit on Daddy's lap in the swing. It did make for an adorable picture of my boys, though.

Well, that's it for now. I just uploaded those and couldn't wait to post them. I have got to get some sleep. Wow. Two updates in one day...that's some kind of record...

2008-04-28T13:08:00.006-06:00

My husband made a funny this weekend while we were working our second official job. One of the other guys that we work with and his wife were at the chapel between weddings and they bought their five month old with them. I was making a complete goose of myself, making funny faces and talking (although I don't do the baby talk thing. Just never could get around to saying "What a cute widdle fing you are!") when they asked when I was going to have another one.

That's kind of a delicate subject at the present moment, what with us finally deciding that we are ready for another munchkin but the whole economy messing with us along with other life things. We had been hoping to start working on our next addition this September so that our next one would conveniently arrive during summer break, but since I'm on a job hunt it looks like that is being pushed back by at least a year. Silly not wanting to be one of those people who gets hired just to go, "Oh, by the way, I'm about to start my second trimester. How much maternity leave do I get again?"

So I gave my standard response, which is that my uterus would like one now, but I'm not listening to it at present. I'm sticking my fingers in my ears and going "La la la la la la!"

Kyle was walking by as I answered. He piped up without missing a beat, "The problem is she put it on vibrate."

Ha!

So for now until things are settled, and for a while afterwards, we will be saved from having to balance taking care of a toddler and a newborn at the same time. Just to give all of you who happen to be reading a bit of flashback, this is how far Noah's come in 16 short months....

I'd never seen this picture before but found it in some of Kyle's things. This is from the night Noah was born. Look at the hair! Look at the lips! Look at the cuteness!

To this! His baby face is going away and he has the most gorgeous smile. I am completely, totally, head-over-heels in love with this guy. Who could resist that face? And those sweet chocolate brown eyes?

2008-04-14T18:45:00.004-06:00

This is the reason that I can drag myself out of bed in the morning. I dare you to be in a bad mood after watching this.

2008-04-12T19:21:00.009-06:00

OK, so today I went to the cemetary and took some pictures. I really like the way they turned out. The one of Jesus with the kids makes me cry- it was put up by a family that lost three kids over a very short period of time. It's easy to forget that 100 years ago kids did not have the survival rate they have today. I love it anyway- I love the trust that they have looking up at him. I love that the baby's pudgy little hand is grabbing the neckline of his robe. Maybe someday I will have that kind of trust, too. Anyway, enjoy the pictures.

2008-04-07T21:36:00.009-06:00

There is a lot of catching up to do, here. First, photographic evidence that Noah may actually be my son:He's not sick- he just woke up. We are NOT morning people. It seemed like he was, but apparently that isn't always the case. This next shots are from Tulsa and the biggest playpen ever:

The shower in our room was huge! The bathroom was bigger than Noah's whole room, and he had a LOT of fun playing in the shower (when the water wasn't running). The fact that he was wearing his Curious George outfit is a happy coincidence.

Kyle loves to play in the dirt. Noah loves to play in the dirt. I love watching them play in the dirt together. Here's exhibit A:

And, in the last ones for now, are a couple of pictures that I took because I was playing with the color settings on my camera and Noah looked adorable. As per usual.

2008-04-03T08:20:00.003-06:00

OK, so I know I said today would be back to normal, but I lied. Time for a brief political discussion. Well, not so brief, definitely not PC, but here you go.

I firmly believe in the idea that every person of eligible voting age should exercise their right to vote. I also believe that with that power comes the responsibility for educating yourself about all of your options. I may completely disagree with your choice of candidate for any given race, but if you have a well-reasoned argument to support your position, I can respect that. Every person should decide what issues are most important to them and what issues are deal breakers. Me?

I am a woman. I am a woman who has carried a baby through an unexpected pregnancy that required me to put my dreams on hold for a while. I am a woman who thinks that abortion should be banned in the United States.

I will never, ever, ever vote for a candidate who supports abortion in any form. I believe that a woman has the right to choose- the right to choose to use contraception or not. Once a pregnancy starts, the woman is no longer the only factor in the equation, and the worst case scenario is that she's going to have to handle the consequences for nine months. Pregnancies resulting from rape are a hard thing to contemplate- but they are also extremely rare. Speaking as a mom, I can't imagine penalizing that little thing inside for the actions of an awful person. If I became pregnant as the result of rape, it would be a great comfort to know that something good came out of an unimaginably horrible experience- a baby that would be raised by an adoptive family that desperately wanted a child. I know that many women who get abortions are scared, have inadequate support systems, and do not know what else to do. There are SO many resources that are available. There are homes in which you can live, agencies and adoptive parents who are lined up to pay for your medical bills and expenses, and safe places for your baby to go after you give birth if you aren't in a place where you can take care of a little one. We have done such a poor job of taking care of these moms. It is no wonder that many feel they have no option but to "get rid" of an unwanted pregnancy. So, there's something to work on.

This is one of the things that worries me about Barack Obama. He is a wonderful speaker. He is very charismatic. He speaks of things that are appealing- who doesn't want hope and an improved future? However, he also is a supporter of partial-birth abortion. This is a procedure were a baby is delivered feet first, then when the back of the head is showing the skull is punctured and the baby's brain's are vacummed out to kill it. If that baby made it four more inches into the world and the same procedure was performed, the law would call it murder. Any person who supports such a procedure cannot possibly have respect for human life. I do not know how you can call yourself "Christian" and think that this is OK.

I know that different people have different issues that are their focus. The economy obviously looms large in many people's minds. $100 at the grocery store gets you 75% of the groceries it would have bought you a year ago. Gas has gone up like crazy. The job market is shaky, house values are decreasing...I worry about all of these things too. It's just that the fact that this last year was the first year since Roe v. Wade that fewer than one million abortions were performed in the U.S. For those who aren't Constitution nerds, Roe was decided in 1973. So, for the last 35 years, at least one million abortions per year have happened. In high school, we were told that Hitler was responsible for the deaths of 6 million Jews and 5 million others in the Holocaust, not to mention war casualties. So we've got Hitler beat over 3 to 1, and it's all legal. This bothers me a lot more than paying $3.25 a gallon for gas or the probabilty that I will be unemployed in a few months.

2008-04-02T18:34:00.002-06:00

Keep me in your thoughts, pretty please.

Recovery has not been going very well. I'm pretty sure that most of you know, but just in case you don't, I've had an eating disorder for the last ten years. First it was anorexia, then it was bulimia. My pregnancy acted as a motivator for me to stop my behavior for a while, as did breastfeeding after Noah got here. In the months since Noah weaned himself, things have gotten worse. The stress from not being able to do what I want to do (stay home) compounded with my job has made things hard on me. So a couple of weeks ago I came out and told three of my good friends what was going on.

Now I'm telling you guys. We've reached the point of scary, and I need to tell people what's going on so I don't have the comfort of it being in secret.

I have talked to our girls about the trap of bad relationships/eating disorders/negative self-esteem and body image for a long time. I have talked about the importance (especially in the church) of transparency about our struggles. I do think it still threw people when I went in front of the congregation and said "Hey, I have bulimia. I'm hurting myself. Please pray for me." instead of saying "I have struggles in my life." Being real is hard, but if the alternative is a skin-deep facade...well, I've done that and there is no benefit to be found in a superficial existance. I will not, at this point, get on my soap box about THAT particular issue. At least not any more than I just did. :)

I am starting tomorrow on a balanced and structured eating plan. I have been dysfunctional for so long that I have no concept of healthy eating, so we are hoping that this plan will help. Please pray that I will be able to adjust my paradigm to be a healthy one. I no longer know what "normal" is or feels like because it has been so long since I was there.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. Eating disorders are a strange and powerful addiction. Chances are that you know someone who struggles with this, or maybe it's something that you have to fight yourself. Just be compassionate. Listen. And don't be afraid to kick someone's butt if it needs to be done.

So. That was a ramble. Tomorrow we will return to our regularly scheduled programming and I will have some adorable pictures of my sweeties.

2008-03-22T00:51:00.003-06:00

I am tired. And a bit lonely. And I think I may just be losing my mind.

Or it could be the fact that I'm whining on my blog at 1:50 in the morning instead of being asleep, knowing full well that I'm working an 11 hour shift tomorrow. Be still my heart.

On the upside, the consignment sale seems to be going well. After buying several pairs of shoes, a diaper bag, and a shirt for Abbey in addition to the few things that I picked up for Noah, it looks like I stand to...break even. Sigh. I am secretly hoping that some of Noah's things that I put in don't sell. I really want them back at this point. Kinda silly to try to sell them once you take that into account, huh?

That is all.

2008-03-13T12:48:00.007-06:00

Just a quickie post to say that I'm going to grad school (whoooooooo!) and to pass along a few pictures of my favorite little guy. I have no idea how the heck we're going to work out school full-time + work full-time + hopefully getting to see my husband and my son sometime before Noah finishes kindergarten, so you might be praying about that. I have to stay full-time so that we will have insurance, so I'm hoping that a way appears before me. :) Without further stalling, here's what you're really here for: the cute little guy!

I want to ride my bicycle.....thanks, Grams! He loves it. At least he's on carpet....

He also loves his blanket, which is apparently good for snuggling AND for eating AND for wearing like a cape. So many uses for a humble piece of material...

This is what I saw when I got home from work on Monday- Noah looking mischievious through the screen door. Cute, huh?

This is the loooooooooong little boy enjoying some quality Elmo time with Mr. Bear. Life is good.

Daddy learned valuble lessons in the prompt pre-treating of stains after this experience, but I'll admit I probably would have gone for the camera instead of the stain stick too. Of course, he probably would have been eating his spaghetti shirtless if I was there, too. Daddy's nicer than me in a lot of ways. :)

2008-02-19T20:28:00.005-06:00

Just a quick post to put up a couple of new Noah pictures from the farm excursion this weekend. The weather was too bad for us to be outside, but we had fun playing inside.

This is a picture of the Little Professor before we headed to church Sunday morning. I knew that Pappy and Granny would want to show him off, so he needed to be even cuter than usual.

This work is entitled "Fun with Carrots" and is one of his early performance art pieces.

Pappy not only read "Where is Baby's Belly Button?" but he did silly voices. MY Pappy did silly voices. And Noah loved it- almost as much as Pappy did.

2008-02-12T09:38:00.000-06:00

So, I have been remiss in my picture posting responsibilities. Suffice it to say that things have been crazy. We hope that they will be settling down soon. The doctor is trying yet another thing for my headaches (ah, migraines. Blech.) but it seems to be helping. And hey, I'm losing weight, which is awesome. Some of the changes that my pregnancy produced (i.e. Noah) were quite welcome, while others (i.e. bigger EVERYTHING) were not. So here's to getting that taken care of before school starts. Without further ado, the cuteness that is Noah and Daddy.

Noah was entranced watching the goldfish in our pond, and Daddy was entranced with watching Noah. I think Kyle got the better deal on this one.

Kyle bought him the shirt, so I don't think it's toooooo egotistical to post this. It doesn't say what Mom looks like, just that the munchkin himself is cute. And who would argue that point?

Noah's current favorite toy is this huge soft blanket that my Mom bought for me a few years ago- he will wrestle with it and roll around in for half an hour. He stopped for a breather here.

Noah likes shoes. He especially likes Daddy's shoes, or anybody's shoes that he probably shouldn't be playing with.

Mom got Noah this peacoat for Christmas. Kyle already had one, so when they both wore them to church one morning I HAD to get a picture. I'm not sure why Noah went all solemn, but don't they look adorable? (Except for you, honey. You look very manly.)

2008-02-10T13:38:00.000-06:00

So, what do you do?

I should preface this by saying that I'm not used to dealing with neighbors that live 10 feet away from my house. I spent most of my childhood on 80 acres while my parents ran a youth camp and the rest of it on 5 acres. Our house sits on a city lot, with other houses around it on a city lot.

On one side, we have a nice lady who we swap desserts and casseroles with every now and then. On the other side is this family that I simulatneously feel sorry for and really angry at. Here's the problem: they are loud and they are vulgar and they have no compunctions about sharing either of those two things with the entire neighborhood. The mom cusses at her kids constantly, which is something that we can often hear if we are outside in our yard and sometime hear if we are inside our house. It is so incredibly sad. I know I have no idea what they have going on, but it's impossible for me to imagine a scenario where cussing out an 8 year old would be an appropriate response. This makes the kids angry, so they either blare their music (you can hear it through our entire house), fight in their yard (or the street, or the yards around here, or inside their house...I've had to break up fights before where there was serious harm going on), or scream profanities at the top of their lungs at the five and six year old who live two doors down.

I feel awful for being so frustrated- but I just want peace. I don't even like taking Noah outside anymore because you never know what's going to be screaming or blasting or seen from next door. Kyle made this beautiful garden in the back and we love being outside, but the stuff that they do completely ruins it. Among other things, I just don't think that it's good for any kid to be hearing #%$^, *&$!, and #@*@ every other time they walk out the door. We've talked to them, try to be nice to the kids and mom when she's home, and our kids collected money and toys for them and we left the Christmas presents on their doorstep for all of the kids and for their mom (anonymously, at least until another neighbor snitched us off).

Now I find myself wishing that they would move while feeling ashamed that I'm not being more compassionate about what is obviously an awful situation for the kids to be in. I find myself being selfish and wanting to take care of MY family and OUR peace and not caring so much whether they find theirs.

Blech.

2008-01-17T15:13:00.000-06:00

I thought it might be nice to have something a little cheerier to look at, so here you go: Noah and Daddy at the park, including my favorite picture I've taken in recent memory...

2008-01-16T15:20:00.000-06:00

I miss my Dad today.

I was frantically trying to convince my final letter-writer that he could, in fact, write a letter of recommendation for a chick he had in one class four years ago, and so was digging through some old files looking for a paper I'd written way back in the day to send to him in the hopes it would refresh his memory.

The first CD I tried said "Papers and Dad stuff", and when it opened, there were all of the thumbnails of the pictures from his funeral looking right back at me. Dad when he was goofy (which was a good portion of the time), Dad when he was being sweet (also a good portion of the time), Dad doing Christmas stuff, Dad hanging out with family, even little Dad in the head-to-toe 1950's cowboy look.

So of course, I cried like a little girl, got mad at God, Dad, the universe, and everything, and have walked around periodically tearing up all day.

His goal after his diagnosis and initial stage of giving life the proverbial finger was to make it long enough for Sam to remember him. He made it. Sam was in his second month of kindergarten when Dad died, and can tell Dad stories of his own, not just the ones that we tell him. Is it too terribly selfish to wish that he could have lived long enough for Noah and Abbey to remember him, too? I can read statistics as well as anybody else- I know what the survival rate for Stage IV cancer of any kind is, I know he fought for much longer than expected, and I wouldn't have wanted him to stick around like he was just to make me happy.

But dang it, there are days when I want to make a cup of tea and talk politics and play poker. Or have breakfast while he reads the latest draft of one of my papers, or watch him hug Mom or make Sam (or Noah or Abs) laugh. Nevermind that it's been over three years now since we lost him.

Blech. Apparently today is a mauldlin sort of day. It must be the weather. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm sick enough that I really should be in bed, but I'm not.

I'm really not sure what the point of all this was, except to say that I am sad. I'm going to go get my sweet baby now and do some snuggle therapy.

Be well.

2008-01-07T00:04:00.000-06:00

So, I've got a bit of catching up to do. We had a huge ice storm here in lovely Oklahoma, which knocked our power out by way of ripping the electrical lines out of our house courtesy of a tree in the backyard that couldn't take the pressure. I never did like that tree much, anyway. This meant that we joined the 600,000 other people who were also without power. We rescued some of our groceries, and moved in with my very accomodating in-laws for what we thought would be a few days...then maybe a week...

We lived with them from December 10th to December 23rd. They were very sweet, and Noah left even more spoiled than he was when he got there. Kyle was on his way to be in his college roomate's wedding on the 15th when he hit a patch of ice on a particularly nasty bridge and totalled his truck. Nuwanda the Wonder Truck selflessly gave her life in the saving of his. The right side of his truck was terribly messed up. I was supposed to be riding with him but stayed behind because I wasn't ready to go when he was. Good thing. He's OK, but has some residual soreness and really terrible headaches. Medical investigation is pending.

When I got to come home, I found out that we hadn't been out of power the entire time. The power came back on four days before I walked into my house...and discovered that my fantastic in-laws had given me an equally fantastic kitchen remodel for Christmas. I love the kitchen. I cried like a little girl, which all of my family appreciated seeing after they jumped out and yelled "Surprise!" (Just a side note: Noah doesn't do "surprise." He cried even harder than I did, because it scared him half out of his britches).

So that's why I didn't write for those two weeks. Then there was the Christmas insanity that I am sure most of you took part in, i.e. "OK, which house now? Huh?" There was the joy of it being Noah's first external Christmas and getting to see him enjoying things (lots of pictures to follow the ramble here...) and getting to see everybody enjoying him. Kyle and I were convinced that he would come on Christmas Eve 2006, since any kid of ours has to have an innate sense of dramatic timing and Christmas Eve was his Papa's birthday, but he decided to be different and came on the 28th. We've also celebrated a 1st birthday now, which is just nuts.

For those of you who are parents, you will understand this next bit. For those of you who aren't parents yet, you'll understand this when you are.

I am constantly amazed at the evolution of love. Just when you think you couldn't possibly love them any more, you do. There's a new smile, or a new hug, or a new impish look as they get into something which they know they shouldn't be getting in to...and you're in love all over again. First there was just this abstract idea of "baby." This was the phase right after the pregnancy test came back positive. We thought it was going to take much, much longer for us to get pregnant, but there it was. There was a plus sign. We named the baby Thor pending a gender check, and we loved Thor. Then there was the first ultrasound, where Thor obligingly turned on its side and looked straight into the camera (he still does this. Constantly.) and at 12 weeks we could see its face. Not in a "there are faces on the surface of Mars" sort of way, but in a "there are the eyes, nose, and mouth" sort of way. And it was amazing. And we loved Thor. Then there was the day when we found out that Thor was a Noah, not a Thor or a Zoe. And then we loved Noah. And then he got here, and we loved that snuggly, crying, orange little lima bean. And then he smiled. And then he snuggled. And then he laughed. And then he rolled, and crawled, and walked. And now he'll walk right up to you, and put his arms up, and inform you that he is ready for snuggles. And I don't know how my heart could get any bigger, but he just keeps on stretching it out. Children are the most amazing little creatures. You worry every worry for them and dream every dream, and in the end they will leave your worries and dreams and have their own. And then we will watch, and love him even more. It's amazing.

OK. Enough emotional rambling. (Maybe no more late night posts for me, huh?) In other news, I've applied to grad school, and today I giggled like crazy because one of the professors that I have asked to write a recommendation complimented my test scores, which I think is rather promising. Today I went and looked at the course schedule for this fall and found three classes that I would like to take that are still open. We still have no idea how we are going to work this- if I am going to stay full time (don't wanna, may have to anyway), find a different job, or do what I really want to do and just be a student and a mom. I'd have class two days a week, which would still be Burton and Annette's Noah days, but then would have the other days to just be home and enjoy my family. Kyle loves this idea, but it would probably require us hitting the lottery. Which would require us playing the lottery. We wouldn't even need the big flashy jackpot, just enough to get everything we have paid off and a few years' worth of salary to live on while I do school. Seems reasonable enough, no?

And now, if you have survived this long, you deserve what is about to follow: the extravaganza of pictures!

This was the first time Noah saw Christmas lights. You may or may not be able to tell, but he was very, very, very excited. These did survive to be placed on the tree.

Just one picture of my pretty, pretty kitchen. I know a cabinet man if you are looking for one...

Quick shot of Noah and Uncle Sam on Christmas morning. The boys had a good time.

And the final picture for now: skateboarding Noah at his first birthday party. (Thanks, Sam!)

2007-11-24T22:51:00.000-06:00

So, I'm blaming the fact that I haven't posted in a really long time on the fact that I spent nearly all of my free time over the last three weeks getting ready for the GRE. I took it the day before Thanksgiving, and it went really well. Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I'll pass along a few pictures of my cute kid:

I'm not sure when exactly Noah decided to get this big, but he did. And then he snuggled with Daddy, which was adorable and needed to be preserved on film for posterity.

Just in case you weren't aware of this, allow me to let you in on a little secret: Noah and Grandpa are buddies. Noah lights up for him in a way that is different from the way he lights up for anybody else. It is one of the coolest things that I have ever seen. It really makes me wish that Dad were here to get to spoil Noah too. Ever wish you could turn back time a few years and pass along a message? Something along the lines of "Hey! Go to the doctor, you dork! Or you have no idea what you will be missing out on in a few years!" Ah, dang. Now the screen is all blurry for some reason. Stupid screen. Anyway, here's Grandpa playing with Noah, and if you look closely you can see Grandma in the background. She thinks Noah's OK, too.

Well, more pictures later. Gone for now...

2007-10-26T08:10:00.000-06:00

Excuse me for a moment while I rant about stupidity.

Noah has a Bumbo. For those of you who don't have munchkins around, a Bumbo is a high-backed, sealed sort of foam seat that helps babies sit up by themselves before they would normally be able to and then provides a comfy seat for them after they can sit up on their own. It's got a little saddlehorn sort of thing that comes up between their legs for support, and a high back. Grams got Noah his, and we love it.

Now the maker has issued a recall of sorts, to give people stickers to put on their seats saying never to leave a baby alone in one. There have been 24 reports of babies being injured falling out of Bumbos, three of whom received skull fractures when they fell out of Bumbos that parents left SITTING ON TOP OF TABLES. For crying out loud. You can't have the sense God gave a goose if you leave a baby sitting unsecured in an unsecured seat, especially if you put the aformementioned unsecured seat sitting on top of other furniture. These people should be embarrassed to report how their kids were injured, but they aren't. Instead of blaming themselves for a complete and utter lack of common sense, they blame the maker of the seat for not telling them that it would be incredibly stupid to leave the baby in a precarious place and then not watch them.

The most frustrating part of my life, my job, everything, is the death of common sense and personal accountabilty. Everything is somebody else's fault. Here's my tidbit of wisdom for the day, borrowed from demotivators.com: "The only consistent feature of all your dissatisfying relationships is you." If you notice that your business dealings fall apart, that you bank account is screwed up, your insurance is screwed up, your bills are screwed up, none of your friends want to talk to you, and you're overweight, then you shouldn't try to put all the blame on the stores, the bank, your insurance agent, your friends, the fast food chains and advertisers, the economy, the government at large, or the president. You shouldn't throw a fit, scream, cuss, or sue. You should, instead, start by looking to see what your responsibility is in whatever is going on. Crap happens, true enough. But some of it may just be YOUR fault. Momentous words, to be sure, and an enormous paradigm shift for many.

Sometimes it's easier to blame other people than it is to take accountability for one's own actions. I've been guilty of it myself from time to time. I'm just saying...don't live there. It's ridiculous.

So, let's bring back common sense, shall we? Think before you speak- and before you sue.

2007-10-15T11:41:00.001-06:00

So, I've decided to skip the obligatory melancholy entry in favor of a massive political conspiracy theory post. Just drink the kool-aid and come along with me for a moment.

So, the Congress passed a non-binding resolution about the genocide/mass killings that took place in Turkey. Leaving aside for a moment the rather troubling question of where you draw the line between the two designations, what is the point of the passage of this resolution at this particular point in time? I've heard commentators say that the sponsor of the bill has a large Armenian-American community in his home district, and that the Speaker has a similarly substantial Armenian-American community in HER home district, both of which are true. But here's the question to muddle through in your mind, again, after you've had the kool-aid.

Democrats (and some Republicans) want us to be out of Iraq, and out of Iraq yesterday. There have been attempts to pass bills with set dates for pulling out. Those attempts weren't successful. Now, all of sudden there is a pressing need to call this genocide a genocide. I'm fine with the terminology, just curious about the timing.

This non-binding resolution has Turkey in a tizzy. Remember, this is a country where denouncing "Turkishness" is a prosecutable offense, and saying that there was a genocide when the government doesn't want it called a genocide isn't the best way to keep a friendship alive. Again, let me make it clear that I'm fine with them saying that it's a genocide. No problem at all with that. I just am not convinced that they are being genuine about their motivation.

What happens if you tick off a very, very important ally in a war? Turkey's willingness to let us pass through their airspace and use a military base there is, after all, a pretty essential part of our operations in the Middle East. They've already pulled back their ambassador. What happens if they pull back their permission for us to use their space? Suddenly, the war becomes a much more difficult thing to wage. Wouldn't that be convenient?

Just a few thoughts. I'm going to go have some caffeine now. Be well, and we will return to regularly scheduled programming of cuteness later.

2007-10-10T14:04:00.000-06:00

October 11th, 2007, is National Depression Screening Day.

It's also the third anniversary of Dad's death.

The irony is not lost on me.

Expect a melancholic post tomorrow.

2007-10-05T19:40:00.001-06:00

So I know this isn't the highest quality in the world (it was taken with the digital camera), but you can still get an idea that might make you smile. Uncle Sam is REALLY good with Noah. He was actually in a cranky mood before Sam came over...

That is all.

2007-09-21T21:07:00.001-06:00

Just a quick one, because I'm sleepy, but this may be my favorite picture I've taken of Noah to date. (Yes, I realize that my "favorite picture" of Noah is kind of like Kyle's "favorite band" thing. But when a kid is this cute, well, there aren't many bad pictures.)

There. Now aren't you glad you came and looked?

And now for something completely different.

I am planning on going trying to go to grad school next fall. You might think that with all the changes and uncertainty (my job, not Kyle's) going on at the moment that this isn't the best time. What can I say? We're gluttons for punishment. Actually, it's a need to be roaming through the stacks again, smelling the old books and contraband coffee, reading and learning and writing things just for the joy of reading and learning and writing them. It's about reclaiming myself a bit, too. I love my boys. I absolutely adore them. But I can't argue constitutional theory with Noah. Although Kyle gets geeked up about politics, he's not really interested in the whole "procedural vs. substantive due process" arguement. At least not all the time. And I LIKED who I was when I was in those classes. I liked picking arguments apart and coming up with ideas that, if not new to the academic world, were at least new to me. I miss it. I want to do it forever.

I am excited about doing something that I love so much. I am scared that I'll go through the program and be in the same place I am now: in a job that doesn't utilize (or in my current case, even require that I have) my degree. I am completely freaked out that my brain will somehow no longer work, or that the courses will be too hard, or that I will forget how to write in complete sentences. I am not looking forward to taking out loans or grants or whatever it is you do to fund school- I was lucky for undergrad and didn't have to worry about that stuff. (Thank you, bubble test!) I think it would be awesome to have the kind of schedule you can have when you're a professor. I think it would be fantastic for someone to PAY me to read about stuff I find interesting and then write about it. I love the idea of having summer vacation forever, unless I want to teach Summer or Intersession. I love the idea of being able to teach a three week class and make a nice chunk of change. My husband loves the idea of me being geeked up about something again. He thinks it's adorable.

So. Yep. That's the plan. I really am going to give the whole "becoming a professor" thing a shot. If everything times out right, I should be finishing up my P.h.D about the time the kids (no, there aren't anymore on the way yet, no, it won't be anytime soon, yes, we do want more one of these days) hit school. We can do homework together. I am just naive enough to think that it will be fun.

So, if you're around me often, hit me every now and then and ask how things are going. I have to get all my paperwork done by January 1st, which means I need to take the GRE about 6-8 weeks from now, get letters, write purpose statement, etc.

Wish me luck. Pray really hard that I don't talk myself out of it.

And keep coming here for the cute pictures of Noah, because I am definitely going to keep taking those.

2007-09-13T20:46:00.000-06:00

I forgot that I promised Gram pictures. She certainly deserves at least one, but I'll post several. Here's my favorite: it's Noah and Abbey together. You can't tell from the picture, but we're playing peek-a-boo. I'm bouncing up and down behind the ottoman that they're holding on to. For some reason, they found this to be a very, very amusing game.

Here's one of Noah meeting Chloe, Ashleigh's new pug puppy, for the first time. He was not sure quite what to make of her. In his experience, "puppies" are big black dogs. Not whatever this thing is. All he knew was that he wanted to poke her eyes. We did manage to avert that particular encounter.

Finally, here's a picture of my boys. It's hard to tell, but this is them. Noah was very, very asleep at the time.

2007-09-13T20:24:00.000-06:00

So I was standing in line at Target today when I started comparing myself and my purchases to the woman standing in front of me and her purchases.

She was very fit and wasn't shy about showing off her body- not that I'm a denim miniskirt kinda gal myself, but I must admit that I might be more tempted if I looked like that instead of what I looked like now.

I looked at myself, with my post-baby self in which everything was bigger than what she was showing off, and not necessarily in what you would think of as a good way.

I looked at her purchases- over $350 of pretty things for her house. Some nice art, some new bed linens, candleholders, pillows...

and then I looked at mine.

Formula, contact solution for Kyle, that sexiest of all hosiery items the knee-high, and a toothbrush. The formula is the generic kind because it's cheaper, the contact solution isn't because that's the kind he has to have for his contacts, the knee-highs were the ones on clearance. The toothbrush is just there cause I needed a toothbrush.

And for a minute I am jealous. Jealous of the way she looks, the home decorating things she's getting, the fact that she can afford to spend that much money on ANYTHING when I'm crying about having to buy generic formula.

But then I realize: hey-I'm buying formula because I have the most adorable son in the world who does, on occasion, enjoy a warm bottle. (Not too cool. Not too hot. Just right.) My body looks the way it does in large part because of bringing said adorable son into the world. I don't have to wear a miniskirt and heels, because Kyle and Noah love me even in my jammies.

There is something about love and home and just the everyday domesticity of it all that is just the most wonderful thing in the world. She looked good, got pretty things, and left in a nice car. I looked like I was about to fall over, got what we needed, and left in my nice reliable car.

And went home to a husband that loves me and a baby that I can make laugh sometimes.

I don't think I would trade her places. I'll admit that when Noah wouldn't stop crying tonight and I felt woefully inept and inadequate because I couldn't fix whatever it was that was upsetting him, the idea of some peace and quiet (or just 10 minutes all for myself) was pretty appealing. But then he ruined it all when I picked him up out of his carrier and he snuggled with me. I was a goner.

Pictures of the aforementioned adorable baby coming soon. I just felt talky tonight for some reason. Peace be with you.

2007-09-02T14:02:00.001-06:00

There are two purposes of this post. The first is to brag on my husband, whose incredibly perfect birthday gift for me was having pictures made of him and Noah. The second is to share the incredibly adorable pictures that came from their photo session. Enjoy!

2007-08-21T20:59:00.000-06:00

As Julie requests, so I provide...eventually. I present to you exhibit A, Noah having his first piece of watermelon on the 4th of July.

I would have updated earlier, but my computer died and I was hesitant about putting my new pictures on Kyle's computer until I found out how dead mine was. It's in computer rehab right now, but there are so many good Noah pictures to share, which will doubtlessly show up all funky spaced and such. So, since the end of June, we've had camp, he's gotten teeth (two and working on two more, all on the bottom), he's crawling and pulling up on things, and wants to walk really, really badly.

Enough talking, on with more pictures!

Noah was trying to eat the camera, but I was too quick. He is a total ham, it's really pretty funny how much he perks up when you get a camera out...

This is Noah and Mr. Bear, his huge stuffed bear chair ($7 at Walls. Yay!) that he likes to wallow on. It's a little blurry, but still absolutely adorable to this mommy.

And finally (for now), a picture of me and my baby, the cutest little boy in the world. I'm not biased at all, of course.

2007-06-30T18:05:00.000-06:00

Ladies, you may have been searching for him for a long time. You may have searched high and low, hither and yon, and other assorted places. But here he is, in the flesh....

2007-06-28T21:11:00.001-06:00

We've had a bit of rain here in Oklahoma as of late. As a matter of fact, we just broke the "Consecutive-days-of-rain-in-Oklahoma-City" record with 16 in a row. That record dated from 1937. So, we have a lot of water. Which Kyle decided to introduce Noah to this afternoon, with noticably cute results. See exhibits A and B.

Noah is 6 months old today, and a very soggy half-birthday it is. The ground is so saturated that every little shower leaves standing water, all the better for those cute little feet to stand in, although this particular bit was running down the road.

What is that is so very cute about baby feet? He wasn't sure about it all at the beginning, but he got to the point where he was quite indignant that Daddy took him OUT of the water.

May I just say I really hate the way Blogger is formatting things now? And that I am annoyed that I am not smart enough to make it look better? Please ignore the misaligned text and the pictures stuck in odd places. I promise that it was all justified and aligned before I published. Just look at the cuteness that is the baby.

This is Noah, working on eating one of his stacky rings, which apparently have, if not nutritional value, then teething value. There's also a picture of Noah taking his first bubble bath. (Thank you, Mr. Bubble!)

2007-06-10T11:41:00.000-06:00

I just had to post this picture. Noah and I decided that he should make Kyle's first Father's Day present. My sweet husband was kind enough to let me move when we celebrated Father's Day, due to my impending bouts of crying at commercials, cards, sermons, ugly ties, and ridiculous t-shirts. So, Noah and I went outside and Noah made his first fingerpainting. He painted the mat for this picture, then I took the picture of Noah post-paint, framed the whole thing, and gave it to Kyle, who seemed to like it. Overall it turned out much better than I had hoped and was very well-received. Don't we have a precious baby?

2007-06-06T10:49:00.000-06:00

Well, I now have a sister in the other hemisphere. Karissa left yesterday afternoon for field work in Australia. We are all very proud, but very sniffly. This is everyone at the airport (except Bob, who was kind enough to take the picture so that we could all be in it) trying to keep from crying for long enough to take a snapshot. None of us are pretty criers.

Kris decided when she was in High School that she was supposed to do mission work. She talked to Dad about it, and he thought it was a great fit for her. She has done a short-term mission (6 weeks) in Moscow with the Let's Start Talking program and a week long mission trip to an orphanage in Leon, Mexico. Now she is going to be working with a church in Gosford, Australia for the next 14 months or so. I'm glad she's brave enough to do it, because I'm certainly not. We are all incredibly proud of her. She's sacrificing a lot of things to get to go, and people in her life (hello again, Bob!) are sacrificing too. We'll be posting lots of baby videos for Auntie K to watch, and having weekly web vists via webcam.

So, long and short of it is: K, we love you and we miss you and are so, so proud of you. Hang in there sweetheart. Once you get settled and busy things will be easier. Take in the gorgeous landscape, try not to get eaten by spiders, and we'll see you when you get home. Blog often (send me the link again!), send lots of pictures, and have a fantastic time. Promise that you'll go snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef at least once, and take an underwater camera. Just give us some notice if we need to get dresses before you come home.

Everyone else: please keep Kris and her mission team in your prayers. I will link to her blog as soon as she e-mails me the link. If you know any rich people, or just mission-minded people, her team does still need some additional support. Just get in touch with me via e-mail or comment.

Peace be with you!

2007-05-28T22:28:00.001-06:00

Noah has had a rough time as of late. He's teething (I think...), and caught a bit of a respiratory virus, so he's not always his usual good-natured self. Despite that, we've had lots of snuggle time. He's still cute even when he's feeling punk, so here's a few shots to demonstrate the ongoing cuteness...

This is one I took after the poor baby finally fell asleep after a particularly pitiful crying jag. I wound up getting him down to his diaper and rubbing his back until he fell asleep. He slept hard, and for about an hour and a half I was stuck (ha!) holding my sleeping angel. There are worse ways to spend your day, I promise you that. It's amazing how much things that mattered before simply don't matter any more. My favorite thing to do in the whole world isn't to go see a show, or play games, or anything like that. It's just to spend the afternoon snuggling my baby and hanging out with my husband. One look at a sweet picture like this, and you'll know why. I don't need some fancy job or title, although a big paycheck would be nice. I'd be happy right now if my only job title was "Momma." I always thought that I would do these amazing things in my career, get an academic title (that may still happen, but later), and go on to a high-recognition, high-paying job. Now I know that this little guy in the picture is the best thing I could possibly create, and more important than any thesis or vacation. Sounds trite, maybe, but I didn't realize how important I thought those things were until Noah snuggled with me for the first time and gave me some much needed perspective. Now, that's enough of the rambling, take a look at some more cute pictures!

Kyle and I are working most Saturdays helping his brother and sister-in-law with their catering business. They work weddings, so now we work weddings. It's a necessary thing for the moment, but having to spend yet another day away from Noah really wears on both of us. Luckily, Grandma and Grandpa usually babysit, so at least we know he's being spoiled. There was a Del City wedding on Saturday, so they came with Noah. I wanted to get a picture with the cool gardens in the background, but he was so enamoured with the water that he wouldn't turn his back to it. I settled for a picture of Daddy and the baby admiring the water together. I have pretty adorable boys, huh?

Noah really likes his feet, and has since before he was an external baby. During his first ultrasound, the tech took a picture of him sticking his toes by his nose. He loves to play with his feet (and has managed to fit them in his mouth a time or two), so it seemed like a good picture to take. The hand belongs to Grams, as we were at her house today for Auntie K's going-away party. She leaves next week for Australia for an as of yet undetermined period of time to do mission work. All the more reason for me to keep throwing pics up here...

2007-05-14T21:24:00.000-06:00

Is it just me, or does Noah seem sublimely unimpressed with the culinary wonder that is Sweet Potatoes? He stared solids a couple of weeks ago, and these are his favorite vegetable so far. He loves bananas, hates peas, and seems to like green beans. Burton and Annette use a feeder with him, which is kind of a modified bottle- not the gerbil feeder that Kyle loves to envision.

This weekend was a big weekend. It was my first Mother's Day with an external baby, and Mother's Day happened to fall on our wedding anniversary. Kind of a two-fer. We spent Saturday with my Mom, celebrating her a little bit, and then drove to surprise Annette at church on Sunday morning. (I'm skipping completely over the huge and beautiful bouquet of flowers that Kyle got for me for our anniversary. You just haven't gotten all sniffly over flowers and a card until you've done it at 4:00 in the morning with a breast pump in one hand and the card in the other. I'm just saying.)

You would be amazed at how hard it is for a youth minister to take off on Sunday.

At any rate, the day didn't go exactly as planned, but here are a couple of photographic highlights:

This is a great shot that we took for Annette- Gary doesn't have shades because the only ones he had were the ones he stole from Noah...cute little sucker, isn't he? Then there's the popular Daddy and Noah shot...and some good pictures with Grandpa. It's hard to tell who's happier in those.

2007-05-03T05:39:00.000-06:00

Just a quick post to share a really, really adorable picture of my exceptionally cute son and his beautiful cousin, Abigail. We took this at the house the other day- Noah is four months old and Abbey is five and a half months old. She's much more tactile than he is, but at least he smiles at her when she grabs his face.

2007-05-01T10:18:00.000-06:00

This is a rarity, gentle reader- a post without a picture of my adorable son. Despite his continued cuteness, I had a couple of thoughts to share that don't require photographic evidence. One is something that annoys me slightly, and the second is something that you just have to shake your head at.

Kyle and I were walking through Wal-Mart when I left him unattended with the stroller for a couple of minutes while I went to rescue Noah from an imminent Huggies failure. When I came back out, he handed me a surprise- a little package from the photo studio that said it was a thank you to mothers in honor of Mother's Day. Since this will be my first Mother's Day with an external baby, I immediately awwwww-ed and opened the bag. Aside from the obligatory "Come to our studio and buy pictures of you with your cute baby" flier, there were the two goody bag samples. One was a small container of pure fruit juice for babies. Apparently it's supposed to be better for their teeth, which is something that I'll remember when Noah starts drinking juice in 8 or 9 months. The second was something that any mother would cherish: a disposable toilet scrubber.

Nice, huh? Note to Wal-Mart, because I'm sure you care about my opinion: if you want to make a goody bag for mommies, you shouldn't include household cleaning items. A nice foot scrub sample would be well-received. So would 8 straight hours of sleep.

The second thing is something that I heard on the radio this morning. I listen to the Morning Animals on my drive- they're local sports people. I used to listen to NPR, but have stopped for several reasons: they take themselves too seriously, it's too depressing, and I wake Noah up when I argue with the radio.

At any rate, someone wrote to them about a wedding they attended this weekend at which the mother of the bride was escorted down the aisle wearing this season's must-have fashion accessory: a bluetooth earpiece. Seriously. She was wearing an expensive dress and nice jewelry...and her bluetooth. Apparently an important family member was late to the wedding, and she was afraid that she would miss their call when they called for directions. Isn't there a point at which you hand the thing off? What's she going to do, answer it during their vows? So today's salute goes out to all of those people who insist on wearing their earpieces at all times, even when you really get or make about three calls a day. You're not as cool as you think you are.

And neither is giving a new mom a free toilet scrubbing utensil.

2007-04-26T21:32:00.000-06:00

I got unintentional arty today while taking pictures of Noah...Kyle liked the way that this one turned out. He's not smiling, so I could go for a different one, but he does still look cute...

He is smiling in this one, perhaps from the sheer joy of trying to fit his entire fist in his mouth. I don't know if he's teething or not...he is just a drool baby who likes to chew on things at this point. Mom told me that I cut four teeth at once when I was four months old. Noah turns four months old in two days. I am afraid.

Mommies can be teethers, too. Noah seems to like the taste, texture, or something of my finger. He's quite emphatic about it being time to eat me.

2007-04-25T11:30:00.000-06:00

Noah seems to be almost as enamoured of Kyle as Kyle is of him (but not quite, because Kyle is one very good, very smitted Daddy). I'm actually surprised that Noah is smiling in this one- he had a pretty rough day. You'll notice that he is, once again, wearing the emergency outfit composed of an old camp t-shirt. I've got to start stashing some of his clothes in Kyle's office, or we're going to start running out of shirts.

Just a close up of the adorableness of Noah and
Daddy talking...

2007-04-14T19:25:00.000-06:00

This is Noah, from a baby-eye view. He had a big day today- he rolled over from his stomach onto his back. He looked so cute when he was playing down on the floor that I couldn't help myself and ran for the camera.

It was very important that Noah have Opening Day clothes. Kyle wears a particular tie every year (although he couldn't find it this year, and I must track down another tie with a baseball theme) so it somehow seemed appropriate that Noah have some baseball clothes. He was less than thrilled with ANOTHER photo op, but we eventually got a good picture. It was a little early in the morning for us, so his eyes were closed in most of the other ones.

Just a quick picture of Noah and Kyle being cute at the same time. I have special boys.

2007-04-03T19:08:00.000-06:00

Just a quick shot of my boys as Noah gets ready to go to his first Med Fair....

2007-03-31T06:47:00.000-06:00

I am not a fan of Charles Dickens. He reads like a man who got paid by the word, and I think he may actually have been. Most people have heard the opening line to A Tale of Two Cities- "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." They don't know that the opening line lasts for a paragraph's worth of space or that it compares about 20 things to each other. Nonetheless, that whole "best of times, worst of times" thing is about how I felt last night.

We've had a bit of rain here in Oklahoma. OK, we've had a LOT of rain. Yesterday cars were getting stuck, fire trucks were flooded, and interstates were damaged...all by rain. Last night Mom called at about 8:00. She was crying, which is something that she just doesn't do. She had come home to her house, opened the front door, and stepped into standing water. Since Dad died, it's just her and Sam out at the house, and all of us live about 45 minutes away. It looks like the people that we hired to build the addition on to the house when Dad got sick didn't do it properly, which we already knew. When we got so much rain, it came in over the wall that they built along the outside of the addition. There was at least an inch of water covering all the floors on the entire downstairs level. The carpet that she had installed just two months ago was completely saturated. There was red mud in the den. The bottom inch or two of the sheetrock is ruined on all the walls. I called the insurance company to get a claim started- they don't have anyone who works on the weekend, so they'll call on Monday. Nice.

That's the worst of times bit. Her house is trashed. The sheetrock will need to be replaced, which also means it will need to be re-textured and painted. The wainscotting in the front hall is done for, and at least the pad of the carpet is done as well. There was one good thing, though- and that's the people that came to help.

We got off the phone with Mom, grabbed our cell phones, and started calling people. Keep in mind that it is 8:00 on a Friday night, and time is a precious, precious commodity today. Kyle called his brother Bruce and explained what was going on. Bruce simply said, "Where do you need me?" He loaded up a wet-vac and his teenage son Jake and went to the house of a lady that he'd met just once. I called James and Debra to mooch a wet-vac off of them, and James said that he was going, too. Kyle called Danny, one of our elders, and all he said was "Let me change my clothes." and then he came too. Those guys vaccuumed several hundred gallons of water out of the house, moved all the furniture, ripped up the carpet, and hauled out the carpet pad. We just would not have been able to take care of things without them. I told Bruce thank you, and what he said made me extremely glad (AGAIN!) to have married into such a fantastic family. He just said "That's what we do." I love my family, both the legal one and the church one. I don't think that there are many places where you could call people and have them be there within the hour, but Lakeview is one of them.

So it's awful that Mom's house is so messed up. She has been trying to get things fixed up so that she can sell it and get something that's a little smaller and easier to maintain, and this is a pretty substantial setback. Right now we are hoping that the insurance folks will move quickly and be fair, and get her the money that she needs to fix things. We'll have to see what happens.

But what a blessing it was to have friends and family that were able to come and help and make her feel a little bit less alone.

2007-03-29T10:33:00.000-06:00

Noah had a big weekend last weekend. We decided to make the trek up to Tulsa for the Soul-Winning Workshop, mostly because Auntie K was going to be there participating in the flag ceremony for AIM. She's coming home on April 10th and doesn't head out to Australia until June 5th, so there will be some baby-snuggling photo ops for her...but we took this one at Tulsa and it came out rather well. She's got the touch for babies- Noah is OUT. He also looks even bigger in this picture than he is. Don't get me wrong- he's a big boy. Just not a toddler yet.

It was an up and down weekend- we were trying to buy a car (which we wound up doing. Tip for anyone trying to negotiate with me: it is NOT a good idea to open with the line "Don't you think you should call your husband?" I definitely won that one.), thinking about church stuff, thinking about Karissa leaving (we're proud of her, obviously, but it's also Australia. Where they have spiders and toads that are the size of small dogs.), and such. So in the interests of things, I'll just post a few more pictures. This is one Kyle took while we were in Tulsa...he thinks it's cute, so I'll stick it up just for him.

We had a garage sale a couple of weeks ago, and Noah was hanging out with me until he fell asleep. It was still a little chilly, so of course he had to wear a hat...

Another shot from the garage sale- Noah with Aunt Ash. She was my posse for the day, and a big help. And one final parting shot, just Noah being amused...

2007-03-21T08:08:00.000-06:00

This has been a good week. Any week in which your kiddo smiles at you like this HAS to be a good week, regardless of what else is going on. This week, Noah discovered that he really can fit almost all of his hand in his mouth, that holding a rattle is fun because they make noise, and that Daddy throwing Noah's clothes on Mommy's head is a source of almost endless amusement (actually got a giggle out of that one, though not a full-blown laugh). Just thought I'd take a minute to share a picture that you can't help but smile at. Take care, all!

2007-03-12T05:57:00.000-06:00

I have come to the conclusion that any parent whose child is less than 6 months old should get a pass on "springing forward." It's insult enough to have to start a 10 hour long workday after getting only four hours of sleep, but to try to do it when your body knows good and well that it is an earlier than the clock says it is is just cruel. Think how much more productive we'd be with an extra hour of sleep...

Someday I will get more than four and a half hours of sleep a night. I know it's possible, because I did it on Thursday. I mean that I'll get more than four and a half hours of sleep a night on a regular basis. I'm not quite sure that I'll know what to do with myself if I'm not spending half of the day yawning. It's not that Noah is a bad baby- far from it. He's usually very sweet and goes right back to sleep after nursing at night. It's just that his stomach is a bit too small to keep him from starving half to death if he doesn't fill it every few hours.

Good thing he's so cute.

We had a traumatic experience last night at Kmart. I just needed to run in for a few things and he was being a little fussy. I attributed it to being tired until he started screaming. I unclipped him from his car seat and noticed that he was, to put it politely, very dirty. He hates that, so I thought that was why he was screaming- until I got him changed and he started screaming even more loudly. He was shaking and red and I was rocking him and trying to be soothing as I'm freaking out because he sounds like he's in some excruciating pain. It took probably five minutes to get him chilled out, but it felt like forever. Kyle came and met me in the store and took over pushing him around in the stroller while I tried to keep from feeling sick. He was so pitiful, and I just could not figure out what was making him upset. Talk about feeling helpless.

At any rate, we both survived, he even snuggled a little bit before dropping off to sleep. I'd rather not repeat that anytime soon.

I'd better run- must get to work and get things taken care of for the day.

2007-03-10T04:25:00.000-06:00

This post goes out to my Uncle Timmy, who is a hoss among men. Yesterday, he graduated as a member of class 06-02 from the Oklahoma City Fire Department training. 1300 men applied in December of 2005. In November of 2006, the 25 of them who were selected started a 16 week training course. They were challenged mentally and physically. 200 situps, 200 pushups, miles of running, 40 pull-ups...that's all in ONE day's PFT workout. Even the day of graduation they had PFT. If he looks tired in these pictures, it's because their last run was two miles. He said wasn't a big deal- he finished the training able to run that in under 10 minutes. The kicker was that they had to run those two miles in a creek. They also learned how to put out fires (obviously), break down doors, tear apart cars, drag people from burning buildings, do CPR, climb ladders, get OUT of burning buildings...the training video was very impressive. My uncle is 43 years old- he made it in right under the age cut-off. He was hanging with guys 20 years younger, some former Marines and police officers. He was a bank vice-president until he decided that he wanted to do something different, something where he would be serving. So he sold the shiny silver SUV and bought a 1995 teal Saturn that required you to travel everywhere with quarts of oil in the backseat. It was a huge risk and a huge leap of faith- and he did it! We are all so, so very proud of him. It takes a certain kind of intestinal fortitude to leave something that's secure when you realize that you want something better. He now has his first duty assignment and will start on Tuesday.

It was exciting to get to see all the things that they had accomplished. We had a good family turn-out, especially for 3:00 in the afternoon. Granny and Pappy were there (Pappy pinned Uncle Timmy's badge on), as were Mom and Sam, Ash and Abbey, and Kyle and me. Noah was at Grandma and Grandpa's house, but he came for the after-party. All in all, a very cool and special day. Congratulations again, Uncle Timmy!

2007-03-08T22:40:00.000-06:00

Noah did not start out in this outfit on Sunday. He started out in jeans and a onesie that said "Mommy's little monster" and had a picture of a dinosaur on it.

By the time we got to morning worship, he had already had one wardrobe change. Another one came halfway through services, and a third after services when Noah proved that he has a truly dramatic sense of timing and made his presence known while we were waiting for one of our girls to be baptized. We had small groups Sunday so couldn't go home for backups. After change number four, Mommy ran out of more clothes. The result is the outfit you see here, also known as plan E. Leftover camp shirt: check. Socks that matched outfit number one: check. One really tired baby: also check. Still awfully cute though, isn't he?

Noah and Daddy got to go play outside today. You can't really tell, but he's having quite a lot of fun. We had mid-70's today. It was fantastic.

Uncle Timmy graduates from the Firefighter's Academy tomorrow. I think it's just one of the coolest things ever that he's officially a fireman. It's something he really wanted to do and he went for it...and now he's doing it. I admire that so much. I'm going to attempt to get off work to get over there- graduation is, quite randomly, scheduled for 3:00 in the afternoon. Pictures will be forthcoming.

Athena had puppies today. We didn't even know that she was pregnant. Three black, two brown, and we'll see how they look once she gets settled in and won't eat us when we go in the pen.

2007-03-02T04:48:00.000-06:00

Not that I'm proud of my kid or think that he's going to be very smart or anything, but take a look at these two pictures:

They may not share hair, or quantum theories (yet), but they do both have a feel for a photo op.

Noah had to get his shots yesterday, and his Daddy was sweet enough to take him. Apparently he was pretty pitiful (Noah, not Kyle), but tolerated it well. He hasn't run much of a fever, and he still smiles at us so I don't think that we're in too much trouble.

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's almost 5:00 A.M. and I have to get some work done before the baby is up again. Be well!

2007-02-28T06:49:00.000-06:00

Happy two months, Noah!

Noah is two months old today! Boy, time flies when you're having fun...which we have been, with the possible exception of the middle of the night feedings since he's still waking up at least once during the night. Those- not so fun. Everything else, especially all the smiling that he now does- super fun. He has started reaching for things, seems to recognize family, and gurgles a LOT. The above pictures are Noah and Grams showing cuteness for the camera, and the little man in his Spiderman jammies. Kyle is a biiiiiiig Spiderman fan, so when Sam and I were at the Dollar Tree on Abbey's birthday picking out a present for his new neice and saw these jammies, I knew that Noah needed them. Coming soon: a picture of Daddy and Noah BOTH wearing their Spiderman stuff.

Annette brought over some of Kyle's baby pictures when she and Burton came over for lunch the other day. I know that taking a picture of a picture isn't exactly the most technologically advanced way to transfer data, but take a look at this:

See any resemblance there at all? Scary, isn't it?

We took a few family pictures for Mom- her birthday was the 22nd and she wanted a picture of her with the babies. So we took that one and then took one with Noah, Kyle, and me. Despite appearances, we're sitting on a loveseat, not a ginormous chair.

I just wanted to share a few new pictures. And point out that Noah looks like he dwarfs Abigail, which I suppose is OK. It's fine for girls to be petite, but it'd be hard for Noah to be president if he was short (seriously- tall candidate do much better in elections. Odd, but true).

2007-02-19T13:20:00.000-06:00

This is our nerdy little family in our NASA get-ups. We enjoyed our little family portrait- it's the first one since we got out of the hospital...kinda fitting considering that the only pictures that Kyle and I had together in between our wedding and Noah's arrival involved us in costume. I wasn't sure how we were going to explain to Noah that his Daddy didn't always dress up as Puck, complete with face paint. Now he'll think Daddy is an astronaut.

The sweet lady over to the right is Kyle's Aunt Minnie, snuggling Noah at her 83rd birthday party last week. Minnie had been in rehab after a hip fracture, so this was the first time she and Noah got to meet. We took her roses, too- we needn't have done that. She was so enamored with Noah that her birthday cake almost wound up completely coated in wax. She just wasn't interested in blowing out the candles when there was a such a sweet baby to talk to. Can't say that I blame her.

This is Mom with BOTH of her grandbabies. Noah has caught up to Abigail in weight, even though she had a six week head start. Of course, he did weigh a pound more when he was born than she did when she made her appearance, but it's still pretty impressive.

2007-02-17T16:49:00.000-06:00

This is a great picture of Noah and his Uncle Sam (I tried to convince him to dress up as Uncle Sam for Halloween last year, but when I couldn't come up with a cooler superpower than finger-waggling, he didn't go for it.) Sam does a great job with both his neice and his nephew. He's very sweet and gentle, and calls Noah "my Noah." As you can see, the boys have quite a lot of fun together.

Grams was singing Amazing Grace to Noah and he went out like a light. Exhibit A: limp arm. Exhibit B: happy, non-gas related smile. I have tried to duplicate this effect at 2:00 AM, so far without success.

We dressed up Wednesday night to serve the Valentine's Banquet at church. Noah went as the littlest astronaut. The littlest, very red-headed looking astronaut. I'll put a picture up later of the three of us together, as we were quite the nerdy family. Me in my flight suit, Kyle in his flight jacket, and Noah in his onesie.

There were a lot of things that went on last week. It was a long week in a lot of ways, but there were some good things. I'll get a post up later about one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time, which is the effect of little babies on people who need to smile.

2007-02-12T20:20:00.000-06:00

This is just a quick note to drop a couple of pictures in. I realized that it had been a while since I posted new pictures, and it seems like he's changing every single day. He's six and a half weeks old now. I know this for several reasons: first, I can look at a calendar. Second, I've been back at work for three working days now. It's not ideal, but it's OK. I still can't shake the feeling that I'm going to miss something momentous. Noah has grandparents and his Daddy taking care of him on the days when I'm not there, so to them I make this plea: if I miss something important, lie to me. It can even be a lie of omission. Just don't tell me that he walked without me there. Or giggled for the first time. Or said "Mama" (or, I suppose "Dada" or, quite possibly "Dude"). Let me think that I didn't miss it. At any rate, the picture above is a self-portrait that we made a couple of days before I had to go back. The picture at the right is Noah playing with Sam and discovering that he, Noah, has a tongue that can be used for all sorts of spit bubble making joy.

Just thought I'd share the cuteness that is Noah. Someday he will sleep through the night. And there will be much rejoicing. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

2007-01-30T09:52:00.000-06:00

No pictures today, just three random things that amuse me, each for entirely different reasons.

1. I was at Ross yesterday when I saw what may well be the weirdest CD ever. The title? "Gregorian Chants." That's not the weird part, though, it's the subtitle, which was "inspired by the Music of Celine Dion." You really want to listen to a chant version of "My Heart Will Go On?" I can't imagine why it was priced at $2.99.

2. There's a new commercial on for Aquafresh toothpaste. Except the tube doesn't say toothpaste. It says "Whitening Mint Experience." Experience? IT'S TOOTHPASTE!

3. It is about 10:00 in the morning and I consider the day a success already because I have had a shower and actually eaten breakfast, and Noah is chilled out. Ah, how our definitions change after the entrance into motherhood.

So, yes. Two things that make me laugh, albeit while rolling my eyes, and one changed perspective. What's amusing you today?

2007-01-28T02:19:00.000-06:00

I love this picture of the boys. Kyle's not quite as good as I am at blowing zerbets, but he's learning...and Noah seems to have quite a lot of fun with it. Noah's obviously born to play the role of adorable first born son, and Kyle's settling into being Daddy so well that it seems that he was born to play THAT particular role.

Crazy as it seems, Noah is a month old today. It's one of those spans of time where it somehow manages to seem like forever and no time at all simultaneously. He's seen two bunches of grandparents this weekend, Grandma and Grandpa and Granny and Pappy (technically, they're great-grandparents, but go with it), and both of them were amazed at how much he's changed. I know that he's heavier- about 11.5 pounds now, up from a birthweight of 8 pounds 10 ounces- and I assume longer, since he doesn't fit on my chest quite the same way. It's harder to see the changes when you're with them every day. I've only got two more weeks before I have to go back to work (sidenote to feminists in the United States: this is what campaigning to be treated exactly like men gets you. Do you know how long maternity leave is in Europe?!), but we are very excited about the fact that it looks like my company is going to let me office from home two days a week. I was definitely doing a happy dance after that meeting was over. Being able to do that accomplishes several things: we can keep health insurance AND buy food AND not have to put Noah in daycare. Daddy has one day off during the week, and Noah will get quality grandparent time the other two days, since Burton and Annette have volunteered and are quite conveniently located. Added bonus: this particular mommy won't have to go nuts for those particular reasons. It's super and amazing and unusual that my company is so flexible, but it's something that I am infinitely grateful for. I'm not sure what we would have been doing otherwise, but now we don't have to worry about it. This is one time when technology makes me a very happy girl.

In other news, we mourned a precious soul today. Willie (of Monroe and Willie) passed away. He was a sweet old man with a sweet spirit and an onery streak that we got to hear about from family. My favorite memory of Willie was him showing up at church after we got to do Christmas for them, in one of his new shirts. He sat in a comfy chair in the foyer and held court while Monroe snagged every person that walked through the door and told them "That's my brother, Willie!" and Willie tried to steal away a few of Monroe's girls. He had a great smile. Requisat in pace.

Noah is wearing his white t-shirt and overalls tomorrow in support of Monroe. We'll have to get a picture of that one.

2007-01-23T23:55:00.000-06:00

This smile is brought to you by Sixth Meal, that afternoon delight between Fifths and Sevensies. Sharing this picture is pretty much the only reason for an update today. Time does such strange things when you're a new parent. Any time I'm asleep for more than 15 minutes, I wonder if it's AM or PM when I wake up. One day Kyle asked how our day went, and I explained it this way: "Honey, life with a newborn is kinda lather, rinse, repeat." And it is. And the day goes by incredibly slowly and incredibly quickly all at once because I'm trying to hold on to all of these precious moments that we get to be together...hope they don't slip through my fingers. But at any rate, here's one of those precious moments for you to enjoy.

2007-01-21T22:30:00.000-06:00

So, since I have a digital camera and am ecstatic at the wonder of my son...here's lots of pictures (especially for you, Tara!).

Exhibit A: Noah at three weeks, wondering what the heck Mommy is doing with her other hand while holding him up and trying to convince him to smile, even if it is "just gas." (And even if it is, he does have a beautiful smile.)

Sorry in advance for all the white space. I am not technologically proficient and am trying to do this while Noah is having 7th meal.

And here are the proud grandparents! On the left are Burton and Annette- Kyle's parents, getting their second meeting with the little man on the first day of his existance. Burton definitely got over his initial unwillingness to hold Noah- one of the many joys of antibacterial soap. Annette came and stayed with us after Mom went home, which is how she got an initial advantage over Grandpa in cuddle time. Burton's catching up, though.

On the right is my Mom- she came and stayed with us for the first few days and was a huge help. She gave Noah his first bath at home, which he wasn't really a fan of. It's hard to tell, but that towel is a hippo.

Then there are a few pictures of my favorite boys getting some quality bonding time that first week: Noah was jaundiced when he came home, and more jaundiced when he went back for his checkup three days after he was discharged. After I finished freaking out (his bilirubin levels were comparable to the ones that Dad had right before he crashed) and getting reassurance that, despite what the lactation lady said, I wasn't starving my child and exacerbating the problem (turns out that 11 feedings of more than 30 minutes each are plenty)- we went home and started phototherapy courtesy of a home unit. It took a few days, but he is much better now. It no longer makes me twitch when Kyle calls him "Pumpkin."

I just love this picture of the boys. This was the day after Noah was born, and I think the look and Kyle's face pretty much says it all.

They're so little! He certainly didn't FEEL little, and if you look at him, he looks pretty substantial for a newborn, but still...tiny.

This last picture is just so my husband won't give me a bad time about not putting any pictures with me in them up. See? I really have been here, I promise.

2007-01-21T22:08:00.000-06:00

Hooray! I've learned how to put in pictures! (Oddly enough, you hit the little button that looks like a picture. Huh.)

At any rate, meet Noah, everyone! It's taken me longer than anticipated to get these up, but here you go. This picture is from his birthday. He arrived December 28th just after 4:00 in the afternoon, after about an hour and fifteen minutes of pushing. He would have made it BEFORE the Aggies started playing if I hadn't had to wait for 15 minutes for the doctor to get there to catch. All things considered, labor and delivery went really well. The nurses were super, and the whole thing went just the way we wanted. It was an induction, so there was plenty of time to hang out with the different family members before things got too serious (Grandpa was adamant about not coming in the room since he had a bit of a cold...that changed shortly after Noah made his appearance- the kid is just irrestistible), and then we asked everyone for our space and Mom and Kyle helped me while I pushed. A lot. All 8 lbs. 10 oz. and 21 1/2 inches of him was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

His Daddy is very smitten, I am very smitten, and I don't think I have ever seen Kyle's parents so happy. Burton in particular is enamored with the little guy- Kyle and I went out two weeks after Noah got here and they volunteered to babysit for us. Burton took him out of the carseat when we dropped Noah off, and I don't think he put him down until we came back to pick him up four hours later. Mom is similarly in love- she got two new munchkins within six weeks of each other, so she is in Grandma heaven. We were very lucky to have a lot of family come by the hospital to meet the newest Parker- I think he'd met most of his aunts, uncles, and cousins by the time he was just a few hours old. There were also a bunch of folks from his church family that came by, so he got to meet them too.

We're learning and loving every minute of it (well, ALMOST every minute. The crying for hours in the wee small hours of the morning isn't my favorite part of new mommy-dom)- and there seem to be a lot of things that we can learn from this little guy.

You look into a baby's eyes and it's so easy to get lost in them. They've never seen anything bad, they just know that they're happy when they're warm and fed and taken care of. They do everything with their whole body- Noah stretches with his whole body, yawns with his whole body, sneezes with his whole body. And they love to be loved. Noah's happy with anyone who snuggles him, really. That's not to say he doesn't like his bouncer time, but still.

At any rate, I know this was rambly (and I'm about to do another post of pretty much just pictures, so whoo hoo), but I wanted to at least get it out there. I'll try to keep updating on a fairly regular basis, if just for those who are out of town and don't get to be around as much as we would like them to be.

2006-12-08T13:04:00.000-06:00

They threw a party and nobody came.

So, this is a cyber-rant because I know that pretty much nobody reads this, but writing helps. And holding a pen hurts at this point, so I'll type instead.

Yesterday I experienced the most awkward, embarrassing "baby shower" I could have imagined. They threw it for me at work and made a big deal out of throwing one even though I insisted that it wasn't necessary.

I really wished they'd skipped it. Instead of scheduling it for after work, it was a come-and-go shower from 11:00-3:30. The only problem was that only one person came.

I felt like an idiot. I had gotten up early, put on makeup (!) and tried to look nice...I just sat at my desk for four and a half hours waiting for someone to show up. I didn't leave to get lunch because I was afraid someone might come and I would miss them. One of my old co-workers did come and we had a nice visit for a bit...but that was it. They were giving away food to members at the end of the day because no one came to eat it. There were five presents- two from the two other people in insurance, one from another branch, one from one of the girls in the phone center, and a sack of random stuff from a few people at work. No one visited and asked random questions about Noah. Everyone pretty much just ignored me and enjoyed the goodness that was a chocolate fountain. I felt isolated and ignored and weird.

I didn't even want the presents- our church shower more than took care of Noah's immediate needs. It was the whole "Wow, I've worked here for over a year and I thought I had some friends here." thing that got me. It was like a flash-back to junior high, when I was a decidedly unpopular person outside of geek circles and kids made fun of me all the time. Except this time I'm nine months pregnant and way too emotional. I had to call Kyle crying when one of the members asked a teller that I've worked with for the whole time I've been there what the balloons were for...and she said "Oh, it's a shower for whats-her-face. I can't remember her name."

Blech.

Just needed to vent. Yesterday was a sucky emotional day, over something I know I shouldn't really get that emotional about.

Good things: Noah will be here no later than three weeks from yesterday. My maternity leave starts nine working days from today. This is good. Someday my emotions will go back to a(relatively) normal state. My husband can't WAIT.

2006-11-17T12:35:00.000-06:00

She's here!!!! Abigail arrived last night at about 7:20. Ash was able to do a regular delivery, she was a complete hoss and example to all of us prego people through the whole thing, and at the end of it all there was an exhausted but happy mommy, an anxious but smitten daddy, and a smooshed but beautiful little girl.

Pictures will be forthcoming when I am not at work.

Her birth experience taught me several things: first, be very careful about who you call and who is allowed into the room, and stick with your wishes. You would think that simply EXPLAINING this to people would be enough, but sometimes it isn't. Find a tough and reliable person who is willing to be a bouncer when people, as well-intentioned (or just plain selfish) as they may be, try to violate the aforementioned rules set down by the parents. Barring that, sic a labor and delivery nurse on them. They're very protective. Second, as Ash put it "I love the epidural and I love the guy that put it in!" You don't have to go all granola to be a Mom. Heck, I may wind up having to have a c-section, and that won't make me an less of a Mom. I grew the little (?) guy for nine months, it counts. Three, calling people to tell them about a new baby is FUN. Fourth, pregnant people without filters do not make good bouncers. We just get mad. Grrrrrrrrrr.

Picture if you will the scenario: the rooms at Norman are huge. You labor, deliver, and recover all in the same place. There are hardwood floors, a table and chairs, a big entertainment center with a TV and a DVD player, and a hide-a-bed for the daddy. Ash was in there at midnight, getting all ramped up. She had the pitocin. And had the pitocin. And had the pitocin some more. And after about 6 hours, she was at a 2. Then came the epidural and calm. Then, about 5 and a half hours later came Abbey.

She really is adorable. We watched at the nursery window as the nurse got her all cleaned up, did all the annoy-the-baby things that they have to do, and put a little pink bow in her hair. She wasn't happy, but Brad is already learning how to soothe her very effectively.

I wonder if the people in there feel like they're in a zoo. Probably, especially when somone who shall remain nameless thinks it's a good idea to bang on the window and ask the nurse to turn the baby. Or hold up the baby. Or ask for numbers about length and head circumference and the like. I really wanted a sign or something.

So, my sister is a hoss (her post-delivery care took about an hour and a half), my brother-in-law is one very enamored Daddy, and my neice is absolutely precious. And with a set of lungs that lets you know she's a Cahill.

Hooray for babies!

2006-11-13T15:26:00.000-06:00

It's a countdown to Abigail week. Babies are like gases- they expand to take up all availible space...in the minds of their parents and grandparents and relatives, and in the house. They have loot. An insane amount, if you consider that what you really need is probably pretty much limited to clothes, diapers, wipes, and something to feed the munchkin with. Although mothers of colicky children would probably add "Something that will get them to sleep" to the list.

Ash is being induced Thursday if she hasn't delivered by then, so there's a definite deadline. Ash has spent her last weekend in the kingdom of non-external mommydom. She's excited/nervous/scared. Who wouldn't be a bit nervous? Personally, I'm hoping that I'll get to spend enough time holding Abbey that I'll be over my irrational fear of babies by the time Noah makes an appearance.

Babies are floppy! They can't talk! And wet ones are slippery!

I've been told that all mothers go through a period of "Holy cow. They're sending me home with THAT?" It seems like if we have screening programs and require licenses for things that there should be a little more to getting to take home a baby than, "Yep. This is the one that you popped out. Good luck!" Then they give you a freebie basket with a lot of advertising and a couple of diapers and you're out.

We're at t-minus 46 days with Noah unless he decides to come before the induction. I'm kinda hoping that he does. I'm also hoping that he assumes the launch position without me having to be mauled by the doctor. Apparently, Cahill-Parker hybrids take the stubborness from both sides of the family, so here he is, weeks after he should have flipped...with his head stuck snugly under my ribs.

Ow.

So. Yes. It is a week of arrivals. Abigail will be here by Thursday night, Karissa will be home for Thanksgiving either Thursday or Friday, and my brain may be returning at some point. Not holding my breath so much.

Keep Ash and Brad in your prayers (and whoever may need to catch Brad in Labor and Delivery), and I'll have someone computer literate show me how to post pictures of the little angel after she gets here.

Be well!

2006-11-06T15:10:00.000-06:00

I'm an ark.

Seriously. I've got Noah in here, and there's enough movement that there may be several dozen animals, albeit quite small ones.

When people say that being pregnant is like being on a roller coaster, they aren't kidding. You're up, you're down, and quite frequently you think that some bit of you must have been left behind after a particularly sharp turn (i.e. feet. I still see them sometimes if I take really big steps. Or gracefulness. There wasn't much there to start with!).

I've had a really easy pregnancy so far, and we're heading into the home stretch with about 7 weeks to go. Some things are incredibly annoying, like waking up every two hours at night or the ever lovely stretch marks. Stretch marks, in case you don't know, do interesting things in the light. If you're turned at a particular angle, they are visible. If you're past that angle, they fade into your skin. It was a sad, sad day on Saturday when I realized that I do, in fact, have stretch marks all the way around my abdomen. I'm also not a fun of living on Tums. I didn't like SweetTarts anyway, and now that they're chalky I like them even less. I'm also losing brain cells or connections or something...I can't remember where I put things, am even more random than I was pre-prego, and can't seem to focus on much of anything. It's very disconcerting.

But even on weepy, cranky, very pregnant pregnant days when I have no idea how I'm going to be a Mom (aaaaaaahhhhhhh!) it makes me smile when Noah moves. Sometimes you have to sugar the kid up for this to happen, or eat something spicy, but he still moves. Usually a lot. I have no idea how he still has enough room in there to be doing flips, but he does.

And I'm lucky. I have a wonderful and supportive hubby and a house and a squishy rocking chair that I will be getting very well acquainted with after Noah gets here. Not everyone is that fortunate.

My girls are throwing a baby shower for a young Mom around here. She's got no church family and basically no support at home. She does have heart problems, low income, and they told her two weeks ago that she may have cervical cancer. (And then they promptly scheduled her next appointment for three weeks from then. Don't get me on THAT soapbox.) But she's working full time AND going to school full time AND obviously being pregnant full time. She's trying to improve where she's at. Yesterday at church we did a fundraiser- the girls made cookies, I brought up a ton of cookbooks, and we let people make donations. The cookies were good, a lot of the cookbooks went away, and we got far beyond what we thought we would be able to get for funds. There are some very generous and kind-hearted people at our church.

I'm so proud of these girls. They're taking care of this Mom (THE fundamental ministry is taking care of people), and it was entirely their idea. They're coordinating the shower, they're doing invitations, all of that technical stuff. It's amazing. We sell young people short so many times. They have more of a capacity and willingness to reach out than a lot of "grownups" but aren't given the chance.

This shower is on December 2nd. I plan on taking pictures and showing people what our kids are capable of doing. Maybe they'll change their mind about what this generation is like.

2006-10-26T14:18:00.000-06:00

I will be the first to admit that I am a political junkie. I have a really interesting Con Law class to thank for that...and the 18 subsequent hours of Constitutional therory, etc.

Having admitted that, though, I must admit that the current political season leaves me feeling like I don't even want to vote.

Republicans are evil and scandal-ridden! Look at their e-mails!

Democrats are evil and scandal-ridden! Check their freezer!

Oy. One side says something about the other side, and we get grown men and women saying, "I know you are, but what am I?" There's more spin, but it's the same idea. People on one side are saying it will be a bloodbath and that Republicans need to be very afraid. People on the other side are saying that it'll be close but Republicans will keep the majority. When the parties look so much alike, who cares?

Two things today. Random comments on some races, then a couple of soapbox rants.

Locally, we're sitting here in Oklahoma with a Congressman who gave up a safe seat and a senior position on an important committee to make a run against an incumbent governor with a 70% approval rating. He blew all his money making it out of the primary, and so he's broke. I think he's run maybe one television spot so far, and that aired LAST WEEK. Not exactly an agressive campaign strategy. Yes, there are a couple more weeks. It's probably helpful if you've found an issue by this point, though.

There's an open seat in Congress because of the aforementioned race, and so that was a bit of a crazy run through the primaries. There were about a bajillion people running. Mary Fallin is more than likely going to win. The Democratic opponent is a doctor- he's very articulate and has some interesting (if possibly unfundable) ideas about healthcare. What he didn't have going in is a lot of name recognition.

Um. We're electing a new lieutenant governor because the old one quit to get a seat in Congress. Both candidates seem pretty much underwhelming.

And here, for the possibly two of you reading (like you don't know them already) are my top five pet peeves about American politics right now:

1. There's this thing called the Constitution. It's kind of important. And you should have read it at least once. Sidebar: "the pursuit of happiness" is NOT in the Constitution. Just so you know.

2. Re: the war in Iraq. You can't remake a government in 30 minutes or less. Planning is a good thing, giving out a departure date is a bad thing. Letting the Iraqi government come up with goals and deadlines for themselves to accomplish those goals is a good thing. Supporting them until they can support themselves is also a good thing. Are people dying? Yes. Does that suck? Yes. But our soldiers are volunteers and they are doing something fantastic by protecting us and these other people. This isn't a made-for-TV drama that wraps up in an hour, minus commercials.

3. If I hear one more Senator or Congressman say "And I strongly support having investigational hearings on that"....oy. They have to keep having these hearings, you see, because the other side is doing things that are so very bad! Congress is hardly in session in an election year as it is, maybe they could spend some time on things like tax reform, or immigration legislation, or cow emission studies. Seriously. Haven't they got something slightly more important to worry about?

4. So, I'm a Republican, but have come to accept social support legislation. (Don't ask whether it could use some reform or not- different thing altogether). There's yet another area that I didn't think about until my impending due date started to loom larger...Random factoid: 163 countries in the world have paid maternity leave. The United States is not one of them. It's ok- neither are Swaziland or Lesotho. So we're not alone. Just close to it. Instead, what do we do? FMLA- 12 weeks of UNPAID leave. How many people can afford three months without pay? So I may well be looking for daycare for Noah when he's six weeks old. Legislate on THAT, and cut somebody's afternoon hearing, would you please?

5. Why should I vote for you, besides the fact that you have an elephant or a donkey by your name on the ballot? Sorry, I can think and would like to know something besides your party affilitation. A trunk doesn't get you my vote, and the big pointy ears don't necessarily lose it for you. Make a case, please. We're smart enough to understand one. (And "I'm not that other guy" doesn't count.)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's about all the rant I've got in me for the day.

2006-10-13T12:20:00.000-06:00

It's official. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

This is unfortunate, considering the fact that I'm 25 years old and two and a half months away from being a Mom.

When I was in first grade, I wanted to be a paleontologist. Seriously. The teacher went around the room asking us what we wanted to be, and I listened as my classmates said things like "Fireman!" "Doctor!" "Policeman!" "Trash collector!" (Don't laugh- those guys make good money.) And then there's me, the geek that says, "Paleontologist." First my teacher asked me to spell it, then she asked me what it was.

When I got older (roughly 3rd grade-senior year), I went back and forth between archaeologist and astronaut. I figured that I liked mummies and I liked space. Oh, for a real Stargate. My senior year, I wanted to go to Bryn Mawr and get my degree in Classical and Near Eastern Archaeology. Instead, I found out that Mom and Dad were getting a munchkin and so decided to stay home and go to OU. They theoretically have an archaeology department. Unfortunately, all 12 of the classes they have are about the Western hemisphere, and 10 of them are about North America. Apparently they overlooked the other half of the world.

So, here I sit with a degree in Political Science, a minor in Classical Culture, and a job where people yell at me for the dumb mistakes they made on their insurance. I have a second job as a youth minister's wife, and will soon be welcoming Noah into the world. Part of me wants to be a stay-at-home Mom, part of me realizes that we'd have to live on government cheese to do that, and part of me is afraid that if I stay at home I'll turn into one of those weirdly neurotic people that you hear about that are home with their kids so often that they forget how to hang out with grown-ups. Part of me also wants to go back to school and get a doctorate. Probably in Poli Sci, just so I can have letters behind my name and make students actually learn about that one thingee...you know...the Constitution.

No idea. Divine inspiration or at least a well-written memo would be nice at this point. I promise from now on to attempt to do less rambling, but I'm pregnant and I'm random and I'm bored. I'll probably just snark people in the news and make fun of election stuff. For the record: North Korea=crazy.

So, what do you want to be when you grow up?

2006-10-11T14:04:00.000-06:00

In memento mori...

Today is the anniversary of my Dad's death. The last one, anyway, as there were others that came along the way where he lost different parts of himself. His energy, his bodily control, eventually his mind...and only finally his breath. At one point, he completely lost himself, but he came back and we had a little more time with him. It wasn't long enough, but it was something. For a long time I could only remember him as that husk that we spent the last week taking care of. There was the jaundice. There was the smell. There were the tremors. There...was NOT my Dad.

Then little bits started coming back. The way he would throw his head back and laugh when something really amused him, or the way he could tell a fantastic story and keep all of us rolling, or the way I used to sit on the bed when I was little while he played "Puff, the Magic Dragon." It wasn't even the easy one, with just chords. There was fingerpicking involved. Then I remembered the nights of stargazing- he always HAD to wear his flightsuit and jacket that I got him one year- ostensibly so that he would have enough pockets to hold things, but mostly because he was a huge nerd. We spent hours picking out nebulas, planets, star clusters...and, on nights when we couldn't seem to find anything else, the moon. Reassuring, nice big target. Hard to miss, even when we were stinking it up. There were poker games, late night conversations over tea, tooooooo many nights of him helping me with homework...and a lot of love.

There's not a way to get around it. His last few years really sucked. For him much more than for us, although it certainly wasn't a picnic on our end either. I've come to some hard conclusions about free will and death (which I will happily share, although it's rather a late night conversation). He's missing a lot of things. He's missing anniversaries with Mom and Sam's Kindergarten graduation. He missed our wedding. He's missing the arrival of two grandbabies here in a few months...they will undoubtedly be less geeky in his absence, although Kyle and I will attempt to serve as substitute geekiness nurturers. Mom says he's still watching, and sometimes I think that.

The thing that I, and a lot of other people, try to take from Dad is this: that even as he was dying, he still wanted to teach people about God. He was slowly being burned down to his most fundamental being, and what was left still believed in God. What was left still wanted to share that with other people. We should all be so focused.

So, today, have a cup of tea (Lipton most assuredly does NOT count), look at the stars, and remember a really, really funny guy who left us all too soon.

2006-09-22T09:59:00.000-06:00

First thing- how did I have to go through four bajillion names to get one? Seriously. Someone already had SpaceChicken. Crazy.

Mostly, I'm starting this so that I can have a blog. And post to Todd. Someday I may do this for real, since Kyle and I want to share the glory that is Noah.

Eh, what the heck. I can write something.

Kyle is good. Noah is good. I am good. The dogs are escape artists, the youth group has skewed geek (whoooooo!), and we are in the middle of trying to find time to fix up our house in between the insanity that is youth ministry in the fall.

I wish I could say something profound about how amazing it is to be pregnant. The week we thought something might be wrong with Noah was probably the most tense week I've had since we lost Dad. Getting to spend 45 minutes watching the little man on a big plasma screen, watching as he sucked his thumb, rested his head on his arms, smiled for the camera- that was incredible. Watching my belly move as he does gymnastics every night- also amazing. A few nights ago, he punched me and I went to poke him back....and felt his hand. This tiny, tiny little hand.

So, he's not here yet but he's already held his Mommy's hand. I kinda like that.

The most amazing thing? How we can love someone this much without ever seeing them. I'm scared out of my mind and worry about everything, but still can't wait for him to get here.

Everything is different. I look different, I feel different, our focus is different...

Church is different. Work is different. I'm even trying to go back to school this fall- and that is WAY different.

Anyway. This is just a ramble. Maybe we'll put some pictures of Noah (and my ever-expanding belly) up one of these days.