Posts Tagged 'family'



merry christmas!

I know not everyone celebrates Christmas…but we do…so in honor of today – also known as Christmas – I wanted to wish all of you a happy day filled with lots of fun and joy and laughter.

This is our Christmas card.

And now I’m sharing it with you.

Because you are awesome.

I am so thankful that you are here, reading this.

Merry Christmas 2012 (B&W) Holiday Reindeer 2

PS: I’m the reindeer on the left. Tim is the right. Kellan the middle. Obviously.

just be

Happy Christmas Eve! It’s supposed to snow for Christmas this year.

I’m very excited.

We baked cookies yesterday.

Baked and baked and baked.

And baked.

We still have one more batch to bake, but only because the dough requires overnight refrigeration. I saw a recipe for the best chocolate chip cookies from an old NY Times article and decided that now is as good a time as any to try them.

The recipe still scares me.

Just check out the first sentence on the step where us *normal* people would just drop a rounded teaspoon on a pan and call it a day.

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We’ll see how they turn out.

After, of course, I turn all of the vertical chips to a more eye pleasing horizontal position.

Between all of the baking, I dealt with an on-the-mend-clingy-sick baby and Tim dropped off/picked up the dogs off from getting groomed.

Everybody is going to be clean for Christmas. Every. Body.

Why so much baking?

Because I decided we had to make cookies (plain, easy chocolate chip and peanut butter) for the Post Office and Police Department as part of our random acts of kindness.
20121223-173900.jpgThey better like them, is all I’m saying.

I have no idea what is wrong with me, either.

We also made *our* cookies — Hazelnut-but-really-pecan balls and Jammies. And the dough for the crazy ingredient chocolate chip cookies.

20121223-173505.jpgThe powdered sugar on the Jammies got a little out of control. I blame sleep deprivation.

20121223-173616.jpgFive Four batches. All baked.

Lucky number six five tomorrow.

Obviously I can’t count.

Oh, and we wrapped Kellan’s gifts. I think we are done wrapping, now, wrapping and baking and cleaning.

Tomorrow should be way chill, minus the aforementioned cookie delivery and the rolling of sausage balls for Christmas morning. We do it classy here, people — cookies and sausage balls and OJ.

And it’s awesome.

Also? To anyone and everyone who has family nearby?

Thank them. Appreciate them. Roll your eyes one less time at them.

It is really, really hard to raise and care for a child on your own AND do evvvvvverrythiiiinnng else all by yourself. And by “yourself” I mean our little family of three

It’s really hard.

I currently dangling at my wits end. Just so you’re in the loop as to my current state. Too much. There is too much going on. I’ll be glad when it’s over and I can have a minute to myself to just BE.

our first ER experience

Our #26Acts of kindness has been delayed, slightly, due to one baby who woke up at 3am yesterday morning. SICK.

It started the night before with an episode of projectile vomit. The vomit story would have ended there, except when it happened, Tim happened to be holding him and I was patting his back (he was crying…and coughing…following a mostly failed attempt at a dose of Tylenol).

Kellan burped once. Twice. Three times annnnd BAM.

Projectile vomit.

ALL OVER TIM.

He stood there, staring at me in silence, while his eyes were screaming, “THE. F. THERE IS PUKE ALL OVER ME. OMG. ALL. OVER. MY. PERSON. PUKE. O.M.G.”

It took me a few seconds to react, and when I finally did, I went into the kitchen, brought back a paper towel, realized that was like trying to stem the dam with a toothpick, and was all, “Give him to me.”

And I tossed the paper towel on the floor.

Tim immediately went upstairs to change and toss his soiled clothes in the wash.

I’m not even exaggerating, you guys. It was EVERYWHERE.

After Kellan went to bed, Tim was like, “Smell my neck. Sour, isn’t it?”

Niiiiiice, honey.

Anyway, fast forward to 3am.

Wide awake Kellan, who had been moaning in his sleep. He felt super hot and I knew - I knew – something was amiss.

We got up, took his temperature and, yay. 102.6.

This child has never had a fever that high. His normal temperature is low, too.

He was miserable. He wouldn’t stop crying. He couldn’t go back to sleep.

Finally, I called the nurse hotline and based on his symptoms, the nurse I was speaking with was like, “You need to go ahead and take him to the ER.”

Stomach. Drop.

I went back into the bedroom and told Tim what we had to do. I barely got the words out. I almost completely broke down in tears. Somehow, I held it together and we gathered our things and headed out.

Did we brush our teeth? Put on normal clothes? Do anything to look presentable?

Nope.

Tim handed me a listerine breath strip on the way.

Kellan almost fell asleep on the short (thank goodness) drive to Children’s.

He woke up when we stopped the car and didn’t stop crying until after triage, being admitted into a room, initial check by a nurse, lots of waiting, another check by a nurse, a visit from another nirse who brought toys and then, finally, maybe fifteen minutes after he was given some ibuprofen. And that went down with a fight and lots of tears.

He was calm by the time the doctor came in, thankfully.

She checked him out and we waited, again, to see of his heart rate and breathing rate would come down – and they did. I had no idea that those two things were a big deal with babies. Now I know.

So, we went home with a “wait and see” directive, since his ears and throat looked good, his abdomen looked good and his lungs weren’t showing signs of pneumonia.

Probably a virus, they said.

Go back to the doctor if his fever isn’t gone in three days, they said.

All of this…for a virus. Or something.

Do we feel silly for going to the ER?

Absolutely not.

When the nurse says go, you go.

However, Tim and I have learned that this child does not do fevers well. The kid with a 103 temp who is playing happily and still has an appetite?

Not ours.

Fingers crossed he gets better soon and isn’t sick for his first Christmas. How sad would that be?

I’m actually having a difficult, time at the moment, even caring about what I got Tim or Kellan or anyone else or what anyone else got me, for that matter. I just want Kellan to feel better. That’s pretty much all I’m thinking about and focused on right now.

20121223-065243.jpg

#26Acts continued…

More of our random acts of kindness. Spreading the joy…one small moment at a time.

$5.00 Starbucks gift cards…

20121221-125733.jpg

Given to random cars in a thrift store parking lot.

20121221-125838.jpg

A sweet treat for our mail person.

20121221-125926.jpg

For our pizza delivery guy…

20121221-162830.jpg

He was only a kid — no older than twenty. I hope that small bit of joy helps him in some way…

Also? I love the saying on the front of the cards. It is so true. And it is something we all should strive to do, I think, even if it is just a simple “hello” and a smile to a person who looks like they need it.

20121221-163019.jpg

I have to remind myself to find the joy in doing these random acts of kindness. I think, sometimes, well, probably most of the time, I get too wrapped up in the task itself – in executing and completing it – that I don’t stop and think about what I’m actually doing.

Helping someone.

Making another person smile.

Being kind.

nine weeks

This happened today.

IMG_8936

Well, the actual mailing of these first birthday invitations to (mostly) fictional characters, anyway.

(and yes, those a receipts that Tim needs and a piece of our the trunk of our Christmas tree that, at some point, I plan to make an ornament out of, since it is Kellan’s first Christmas tree…all in my abundant spare time, obviously)

Can you believe that we are basically NINE WEEKS away from Kellan’s first birthday?

OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG.

I remember counting nine weeks last year. I remember Christmas last year. I remember thinking that Kellan would be here soon.

I remember looking like this (and this post was written almost exactly a year ago).

And now, he’s here.

And he’s almost one.

How did this year go by so quickly?

Have I started planning his party?

Um.

Yes?

Only…not really?

I’ve gotten as far as the guest list. Theme? Location? Time? Date?

NO CLUE.

I think I’ll start by ordering invitations because, honestly, the number of things I want to get done for his birthday?

Overwhelming.

Invitations are important, right?

The overachiever in me thinks I’ll get it ALL done but the realist knows it probably won’t ALL happen.

I still haven’t even finished Christmas stuff yet.

So, instead of freaking out, because I can feel it coming the more I think about everything I’m not doing, let’s just take a moment and look at this cute face, instead.

DSCN2203

all about poo

So……I feel like I start a lot of posts like this…but…it’s like I’m sheepishly asking you a question that isn’t exactly the most comfortable to, um, discuss.

So……did you know that you can hire people to clean the dog poo out of your yard?

Yah.

Me either.

Until it had to happen and said person who decided that would be his business plan is out in the backyard as I write, cleaning up poo.

Maddie, our golden, is getting older and more crotchety and has the most finicky stomach in the history of ever. EVER.

Nervous?

Diarrhea.

Eats anything other than her food and special treats?

Diarrhea.

Heartworm medicine?

Diarrhea.

Doggie daycare?

You guessed it.

Diarrhea.

The backyard is pretty much no man’s land because GROSS. What exactly are you supposed to do with¬†that which cannot be scooped?

Answer?

Hire someone else to deal with it.

And you guys! The dude is super nice and was trying to help me with suggestions for Maddie and awwww man! Now he’s outside cleaning up her grossness.

Yes, I actually showed my face to the person who will be getting up close and personal with our yard poo. Shameful…on my part. Not his.

I mean, I know he’s getting paid and everything and it was his idea to start the business in the first place but…it’s poo.

In our next house, we are separating out part of the lawn for the dogs and the rest will be livable space. Thank you, invisible fence.

That’s my day, people. It’s crazy exciting over here, obviously.

Also?

Happy 12-12-12!

I’m so taking a Kellan picture to celebrate this date.

i made that

For anyone who is a parent…have you ever had a moment where you sat back and looked at your child like, “Wow. I MADE THAT.”

Especially us women.

Because, really, we actually made that.

I’ll never forget the first time I looked at Kellan and thought, “So that’s you.”

The you who kicked me at 3am or who stuck their little bum up in my ribs or who got the hiccups all the time and I’d put my hand on my belly, hoping to pacify you, if only just a little bit.

You.

It is kind of an otherworldly experience, really, because that tiny person started out as two cells – TWO CELLS – and now, look at him.

Mr. Personality.

Mind blowing.

This little person who I knew last year as – literally – a bump that moved and punched and hiccuped and gave me heartburn. One year later, he’s a lively baby boy who does all of that, still, minus the heartburn.

They are born…and then they grow…it’s a little person. A teeny, tiny human.

I made a teeny tiny human.

MADE ONE.

From basically nothing.

That’s like, crazy alien type stuff right there.

I legit grew another person.

Until this actually happens to you, you really have no idea how crazy weird that it all really is. I think seeing the end result – a la baby – is where it finally hits you like WHOA.

TEENY TINY PERSON.

I did that.

Obviously, I am failing miserably to find an eloquent way to say this. You know, I don’t think there is an eloquent way to explain the feeling and the reality behind tiny person creation. If you find any, it was probably written by a man who has no idea what he’s talking about.

Their “part” in the creation process is all of two seconds…or five seconds…minutes…whatever.

They don’t…they can’t know.

Well, until the baby is actually here, in the flesh, and then their eyes get all big and they’re like, WHOA.

YOU MADE THAT.


this is where you ask those burning questions

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