Snowy gaze

Yep. The weather changed alright.

It was...70

And therefore, she was a bit overdressed for this wagon ride.

(But the bare feeties do give away the temp.)

Our wagon our wagon! How I missed our wagon.

It felt and smelled and tasted just like spring this weekend. Definitely a tease, as my iPhone weather thing tells me it will be 10 and snowing within a couple days. I'll pass.

This weekend zipped past much too quickly. But it didn't zip past before cc could re-upholester our dining room chairs with delicious new yellow-with-red-cherry-blossoms fabric picked out by our little family-of-3 at the Evil Empire of Joannz Fabric.

I'll take some pics soon. HGTV is calling us soon to host our own show, natch.

Snowy gaze

Milk manz

It's just so dern cute!

When you go for a walk in my 'hood, you'll notice every other house or so has these little boxes on their side or front porches. Took me awhile to figure out they were for actual milk delivery from a local dairy -- and not just some strange nod-to-the-past people were doing together.

It took me a few months, but with Harper finally drinking real milk (begone, formula, begone!), I decided I'd check it out. And holy do I lurve this service. Once a week, before bedtime, I tuck my order sheet into the cooler-on-my-porch and when I wake up? A box full of this:

It's magic!

Duh-licious, all-natch milk (24-48 hours from cow-to-me!) and their own sour cream, cottage cheese, half-n-half, etc. Plus! You can order soymilk, eggs, bread, orange juice -- etc etc etc! 
It's 1955!
(Maybe minus the soymilk.)
Swoon!
It's lovely how these little things in life, these throwback rituals and comforts, can make things feel pretty alright. 

I have a genuine question about babies-almost-toddlers

Is it normal that:

1) My child is fearless? (Okay, she doesn't love all dogs. Or when cc wears hats. Or when my mom's hair got wet in the shower.) But I mean, like...lives her life on her tiptoes, trying to reach everything and anything. Trying to climb up onto our bed, trying to get inside/live inside the dishwasher (usually to great success), get inside/live inside the stove (I'm laidback, but I'm not that laidback), climb the stairs without a backward glance, will hang over the side of the couch upside down to reach the pepper shaker. (Her new favorite snack?)
She WORKS, hard, all day long to get stuff done. Naughty stuff mostly. But she's literally breathing heavy and sweating she's working so hard with all that fearlessness and impness. Just like me and cc....(no).

2) Has a teenage 'tude already? As in...she runs away from me with glee, finds an open door, looks at me, waves and then slams it in my face? Over and over again, giggling and slamming, giggling and slamming. I'm having terrifying and haunting flash-forwards.

3) Will make THE MOST IRRITATING WHINING NOISE OF ALL EARTH'S TIME until she gets exactly what she wants. (Pinto beans, my glasses, Glee blasting.) And it's not a ohhhh the bebe is saaaad noise. It's a: I am baby monster and I will wield this powerful sword of whine. Like that.

4) She already does this to boys (yes, there's a real life two-year-old lost under there somewhere):

I'm sorry, Naveen. It won't happen again?

5) Her cheeks taste like lollipops and fresh cut grass.

Prepare your eyes

The first pair of shoes she's let me apply without a total squirmfest. 
Those stripey pants have been a mainstay favorite. And now...they're flood pants. I'm frowning hard.
The inbetween layer is a pair of purple tights. Comedy gold = watching her try and pull them off, thinking they be socks. Muahaha. Ha.
(I don't know how to string sentences together anymore I think?)

My medicine

Apparently I look younger in hospitals

Okay, so first off -- WE'RE HOME!

Lala. Laaaaalalalallaa. La!

The dude is doing great. I keep telling him I haven't seen color in his face for months, but it's there today. Insane.

He's a little afraid of me because I'm on a crazy get-this-household-insanely-healthy-at-a-whole-different-level kick. I'm talking no plastic food containers, no fake sugar in any corner, all water will be filtered, we'll be drinking out of glass mason jars, not to mention the organic mostly vegetarian food/sunlight/exercise/meditation regimens I'm about to start for us all. Don't get near this bungalow unless you wanna get your heal on, yo.

But anyways -- just a couple funny things that happened at the hospital that have me scratching my ponytail still.

1) A new nurse comes in for the night shift. Visitors should leave at 8, but I never do, I always spent the night. So she looks over at me (in my baggy knit hat, knitting, ignoring her) and asks, kind of annoyed: "So...who's this?" Then was genuinely surprised when I looked up and said "His wife." Pretty sure she thought I was a sister? Street person? I don't know.

2) Another afternoon, I was walking through the hallways, pushing Harps in her stroller. A middle-aged nurse lady hustles by, giving us the up-and-down. Then: "Awwww. Aren't you such a good helper!" To me! To me! Her mom! Yes, ma'am. Yes, I AM a good helper. I'm looking for extra hours -- let me know your schedule! (Was it the pigtails?)

Ah yes, that's a little better

I knit in bed while...




The patient gets "comfy" on the futon.

The nurses gave me the mcstinkeye, but *shrug* ...seems fair to me!

Popsiclez

WHY DO MY PHONE PICS COME OUT BAD LATELY?!
(p.s. My hair's down????)

My mom came by the hospeetal with Harps yesterday and took me up on my Popsicle offer. (My current version of hostess with the mostess.)

O' course H wouldn't let her enjoy the grapey goodness. She grabbed that two-pronged sucker and made it hers. Pretty impressive for her first attempt.

I'm not seeing her as much these past few days as usual (5 or 6 hours instead of...lots and lots more?) so her head and neck and shoulders and ears and toes and breath all smell and taste even more delicious-er than usual. She's our very very sunny spot of sunshine in an otherwise stormy week.

Thank you again for all your well wishes and happy thoughts and Iloveyous. They mean the world. And to the people who are our angelhelpers -- babysitting, legit and speedy medical advice, available-for-quick-fly-outs, lovey emails, treat buying, airport pickingup, talking-it-out, flowering, meal-making, etc -- I get teary just thinking about you. It really is impossible to get through life without real friends and awesome family.

Clay is in the hospital and still recovering from surgery. We're fingers crossed he's outta here in the next few days. Because? Hospitals suck, yo.

But. They took that motherf*%#ing blockage out (I picture it this evil trollgoblinvampiretedbundy), his stitches look good and he's even eating sorbet tonight after the most awful of awful awfulest nose/throat tubes was removed this afternoon. We're settling in for another cozy sleepover at the hospital together -- I knit and sip my cranberry juice and listen to podcasts, he surfs the interwebs and watches football and makes fun of me for tripping over cords and making a mess. Same same as home, pretty much.

We've got some stuff ahead of us, mostly to make sure none of those motherf*&$#ing blockages come back. So pow pow POW. I summon you gone foreva. 

(Sidenote: cc mcbuddy is just the best. The best of the best of the best. He's my heart song and my best friend and my warrior dude. POW!)

Oh hello.

It's past midnight and I just got back from the hosp-ee-tal, so I'll keep this short -- but probably still confusing:

1) Thank you, from the bottom of my fatigue-riddled mind, for all your sweet comments and well wishes and get betters aimed at my dude. He's read them all and it really does help to know peeps are out there pullin for ya.

2) He's got a few more days left in the slammer. Hopefully home around Tuesdayish? Fingers crossed for earlier, of course. We'll know a lot more about what's-to-come (hopefully nothing but lying in bed with popsicles and car magazines!) in the next few days.

3) Harperbug is doing well. My lovelylovely friend Manj has helped enORmously the past few days -- taking her for 2 overnights, babysitting, etc. And my mom is flying in tomorrow to take over primary kiddo duty. Hallelujah!!! But yeah -- I tried today (to good success, methinks) to make it as "normal" of a day as possible. Weird singing/dancing shows to musicals, bath, lots of nakie time, the Barefoot Contessa over a yummy milk sippy cup. She's such a buttercup.

4) Apparently, when one of my small family unit bubble is sick, my mama bear/tiger/lion comes out full force. So I'm stating this as a disclaimer right now: I'm not exactly myself these days. Or is it that I'm more myself than usual?

[[Insert thoughtful pause]]

In that, I'm not nodding and smiling anymore through stuff that's bothered me a long time. In that, I won't/don't put up with bullshit. In that, I will call people-who-deserve-it out on their bullshit. And I'll probably enjoy it. And I'll definitely mean it. (I'm not kidding. I'm fierce right now.) Kthxbai!

5) Dude. It's even clearer to me now how sick cc really was. I just found an unopened box of peanut butter Puffins. This has...never happened in the history of history. Sorry, buddy, but CRUNCH!

6) Seriously, thank you again for all your thoughtful comments. Muah!

Crazy effin what the what

That's as coherent of a title as I can swing. When I'm not on a phone keyboard I'll write more, but wanted to let peeps know cc is in the hospital, recovering from emergency intestinal (terrible word no?) surgery.

It's a big deal. But he's hanging tough and stable and already superirritated with overly spunky/spastic nurses -- so he's very much himself.

The tale of our last 36 hours is a good one and I'll get to it, but for now -- thanks for any and all well wishes aimed at my best friend.

Quick naptime!

So this writing class thing

Just my green beanie. And pink poncho. On the bathroom floor. What?

So one would think one would be inspired to get-some-writing-finished if one didn't have a job (yes yes we can all agree raising-the-H is a job, but you know what I meaaaaan). But it doesn't work that way with me. I need someone to be staring at me to perform, I need deadlines,  I need the hot pursuit of shame for not finishing or stepping up. And therefore!

I found this supergreat writing community in my mountaintown that offers classes and workshops. Mine is for the short story and last night was the first class.

It meets in a completely random (to me) part of town in an old Victorian living room. So right away I'm charmed. The teacher's a legit published writer/former prof from Cornell and the students appear to be not TOO annoying tho just annoying to give me good anecdote material. Which is important.

It's meeting for 8 weeks and I've got lots of reading assignments on my plate as well as writing homeworks and, of course, an actual story to git dun. Writing personal stuff or expository stuff makes me zero nervous, but writing fiction? For a crowd? To take home copies of and mark up with red/purple/angry pens? Um help. But it's good for me. So it's happening.

I told myself before walking in, I wouldn't be a Talker in this class. I'd just coyly and mysteriously sit back and make judgments/learn some stuff. I failed within 5 minutes. Hopelesss = me.

Snowy gaze

Yep. The weather changed alright.

Successaramaaa

Y'all.

Tonight we left our baby alone with a sitter, while she was still awake. (Sorry, copyeditor friends, for the confusing pronoun placement. Both Harper and the sitter were awake. I hope.) And I didn't have a nervous breakdown. I even relaxed/enjoyed myself/thought about something else!

!!!

And she did well, too! I mean, uh I think she cried most of the time she was awake? But it was only an hour until bed and then she went to sleep!

And the play the play the plaaaaaaaaay. Was awesomesauce. Even cc gave it a "that was good" which, you should know, is high praise. Sure, the subject matter wasn't ideal for a first-night-away-from-your-babe (mental illness/death-of-an-infant AH), but hey! Much better than my night out with Black Swan.


Two other things:

1) I cooked fish last night for the first time for us/friends. And it wasn't a failure! (We're sort of not-eating-meat this month. Just to see how it goes. So far, I LOVE not cooking chicken/turkey/beef. But very slightly miss eating it.)

2) Tomorrow night's my first short story writing class. I'm basically terrified. And also: Why do I suddenly have a life this week? I'm confused.

Berry massacre

Not sure why these pics are such turrible quality? But I posted them from my fone, which has an almost-completely-blackened display screen, so...who knows at this point. (Note to people-who-text-me: I can't read them. Ktxhbai!)

Hbutt loves berries hard, but the mess the mess the messssssssss. It's definitely a not-everyday treat.

(Plus, smushed blackberries look exactly like the stuff that comes out in that yummy postpartum period. TMI? Woops!)

Happy weekend peepuls! I'll be cooking from my new Ina cookbook and dancing with my bloodied toe. Oh and a musical! I'll be going to a musical. (One of a bunch I get to see this year. cc seriously s-p-o-i-l-e-d me for Christmas with season tix to Broadway-touring-shows-coming-to-Denver.)

Bam bam yes!

Some Thursday thoughts

1) Upon making toast-with-pb-and-j for myself for breakfast, I suddenly remembered a really sad thing: At summer camp, age 9 or 10, one of our "treats" was to have "Dinner on the Water" aka -- paddle out, on the lake, in the evening, on our kickboards and...eat a peanut butter and jelly?! In the freezing cold water?! While the warming sun set behind us and we slowly froze to almost-death? I...don't even know how this happened.

2) Last night, Manj and I saw Black Swan. I'm still processing the whole thing, but needless to say -- it scared the s&*t out of us. I think it was good? But I honestly don't know yet. I might need therapy before I decide.

3) An old (in a couple different ways) acting professor passed away this week, and among all the sadness and 'oh noes!' of old classmates, I felt, well, nothing. (Pretty certain getting to sing that in real life would complete me.)

4) After a long holiday/travel hiatus, I'm back on the cloth dipe train. I forgot how enormous H's butt looks in those suckers. And how much a poo-filled dipe depresses me.

5) I continue to hunt for the perfect I-can-wear-this-everyday dress. Because I hate pants. Any ideas? Any dress lurve out there? I'm lost.

6) Just Dance 2 is the greatest game of all time. (Even if it gave me a bloody toe.)

On her 11th month-day

Sure, my hair's mostly in the back.

But I look goooooood!
(Thanks to Gill and Dave who sent me these cute jamz!)

My heart's sort of breaking over here, realizing how close we are to year numero uno. 11 months?! 11? One one? This last chunk of time has flown by super sonic speed style. Similar to her crawl when you catch her doing something naughty.

(First: She shakes her head "no", anticipating our response. Then she waves real friendly-like "heeeeey!" to distract you from the mischief'ing. Then she takes off, insanely fast, butt a'wiggling, dust a'flying. Rinse repeat all-day-long.)

But hey! Fear not. We've still got a whole month of baby left. *fake brave smile*

I owe you a cute foto after yesterday's downer post

Oh hello, Buttercupbaby!
(taken by cuzzo, Christie)
(check out the cracker crumbs in the collar)

Harps and k

One of the best parts of going home was watching Harper meet our blackcat, Ringo. (That's her official name, picked by me circa 1994, mid complete Beatles obsession -- but we usually called her Black Kitty or The Black One because, well, she was black? And?)

Harps took to her right away. It was kind of insane, really. Her eyes would light up, her legs kick, her hands grabby grab. But the nuttiest thing was how instantly she understood how to talk about her. Meaning? She'd point and say "kkkkkkkk" (as in kitty). I didn't believe my mom at first when she said H was doing it, but as the week went on and the pointing/kkkkk'ng continued I was a believer.

She'd wake up in the morning with a string of "mamamama dadadadaaa kkkkkkkkk" and so we'd take her down to k's little bed and let HJ get her fill.

The whole thing was just scrumptious and gave me a little sneakpeak into how awesome it will be to see her interact with a sister/brother one day. Momswoon!

But after we left Maine, the black one went downhill fast. My mom took her to the vet who found little tumors and a heart that wasn't working right. She wasn't in pain yet, but she would be soon. My poor mom made the hard (but right) decision to put her down before she could suffer. The little bug was 16 and sweet as a pea until the very end.

I'm usually kind of a coldheart when it comes to pet stuff. I love the ones near to me, but no one's going to label me an animal girl. But damn this hit me hard, guys.

Sooo...thanks for letting me write it out a bit.

I sometimes feel like talking-about-animals is the same as talking-about-dreams. No one wants to hear about them? Or again -- maybe that's just my coldheart speaking. Lalala!

Anywho. Sad day, but I've got this really happy video from Ringo's last week. This was an hour into H being gleefully up in her grill and she was just sighing and purring and rolling with it. (Please excuse my grating voice. I swear I don't sound that awful in real life. *hopes*)