Deciphering Kate

What are you, baby?

2012-01-27T21:41:00.000-05:00

Do you think it means anything that every day I fight the urge to refer to our baby as "she"? If I were anyone else I'd say maybe, but considering I've never accurately guessed the sex of an unborn baby I'm inclined to say no. I'll be elated with either a girl or a boy but this daily slip up makes me think subconsciously I'm a hoping for a girl.

Okay, maybe it's a little more than subconsciously...

Thankfully, my curiosity will be answered one week from today!

Should I stay or should I go?

2012-01-26T21:38:00.001-05:00

My original plan was to do some soul searching and create an honest pros and cons list to help us decide whether we should renew our lease for another year or put ourselves back on the market for a place to live. Because despite feeling as though all I do is complain about this place, it really does have some great things going for it such as lots of space, both living and storage, and a really awesome layout. Having Owen's toy room and my office directly off the main living area has made life quite simple and enjoyable. We've also got one heck of a pool, play ground fit for a 2-year-old, gorgeous club house, and beautiful grounds to admire while walking the dog. Oh, and did I mention that when the rest of the city was trying to finish their Christmas shopping, but were really just sitting in one huge traffic jam at the shopping center parking lot, all I had to do was walk across the street? I'm pretty sure I was back home before a few of those cars found a parking space.

But before I start listing cons and run off on a tangent about The Elephant Man and the nasty laundry room and the unexpected fuzzy little visitor we had last month, I'm going to stop myself, because none of it matters.

Two weeks ago we received a letter in the mail from our leasing office stating our lease was up soon and we were required to notify them in writing if we did not wish to renew for another year. We've never rented from a big corporate establishment like this before but I assume this is pretty normal, right? Sure. The letter was dated January 9, was delivered on January 12, and thanks to many previous disagreements with our leasing office I knew to read every single line, especially the very small print at the bottom of the second page, which said we had 15 days from the date on the letter to notify them before our lease automatically renewed. Again, not so surprising. What was surprising, however, is the fact that we had until January 23rd to make a decision but our lease is not up until April 30th.

Seriously? I about died. They were requiring over three months notice or else we would be stuck here for another year. No one is going to hold a place for that amount of time which means if we leave, we leave blindly, and hope beyond hope that we find a place before April 30. Risky? Maybe. But I didn't care. If we didn't take the risk, obviously, we would be here forever. I wrote the letter stating we would be leaving and turned it in the next day.

I've never lived anywhere this short of time, but I've never lived anywhere that the negative outweighed the positive, even if there were quite a few positive attributes. Then again, I guess this was part of the plan when moving here. We didn't know the city well enough to know where we would feel most at home, and we didn't know what our lives would be like to know how much space and financial responsibility we could handle. Now, we do know the neighborhood we want to be in and we do know the type of home we want to have. Unfortunately, with another child and additional care costs on the horizon, we aren't entirely sure what the budget will look like but we have a decent idea of what we'll be working with.

So, in the battle of staying or going, we are going, and we're finding a house, and I'm really excited about that. I hate the idea of moving when I'm 9 months pregnant, but I love the idea of sleeping at night without a zoo trampling above my head, of taking a shower without the water turning freezing cold when someone in a neighboring apartment flushes the toilet, of having my own washer and dryer. I want to be in a place of comfort when this baby arrives and that can't happen here. Apartment life had a lot of potential, and I feel I was pretty optimistic about it, but this isn't the place for us. We need a home of our own.

Looks like instead of just organizing closets, I'll be packing them up.

Things you shouldn't say to your pregnant wife, part 2

2012-01-18T21:39:00.000-05:00

Me: "I think I'm finally starting to look pregnant. Can you see it?"

Jon: "Yeah, especially right here!" (gesturing to my butt)

And Jon says living here is making me mean

2012-01-18T12:20:00.002-05:00

Is it bad that 5 minutes ago, when an absurd amount of choking could be heard in the apartment upstairs, I kind of crossed my fingers and cheered it on a little bit?

Wait, don't answer that! I'm pretty sure I just confirmed my place in hell.

In case I just frightened you, please know that I could never harm a living being.

Of course, that does not mean I wouldn't have a small party should anything terrible happen to The Elephant Man.

Why you can't leave me in charge of paperwork

2012-01-14T21:51:00.000-05:00

Closet 1 of 5 = done. I wasn't cool enough to take before and after photos but you will not believe what I found: a receipt for one pregnancy test dated July 2, 2009, the same day I found out I was pregnant with Owen. I don't know how that managed to hang around this long, let alone make the move, but it was a nice trip down memory lane. Then his little brother or sister kicked me and brought me back to the present.

2012: I resolve to...

2012-01-09T23:38:00.000-05:00

1. Lay off Facebook.
While I think Facebook is a really awesome tool for keeping in touch with friends and family in other states, I also see it as a huge pain in the ass. I think part of my problem is I believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion but I don't necessarily want to know what it is and I especially don't want it thrown in my face when my opinion may be entirely different. Facebook makes that entirely too easy. If I reacted to everything that offended or annoyed me on Facebook I would have a friends list of something like 9 people. Call me soft, call me a hypocrite, call me what you will, but seeing as I don't have the guts to do a mass friend deletion I think I'll just back off a bit and update occasionally. Besides, maybe this will stop prompting me to write an entry about how Facebook killed my blog! It is way too easy to log onto Facebook and post a quick status update as opposed to starting and finishing a blog. It's time to use Facebook only as a tool to keep friends and family updated and save the meat and potatoes for this blog.

2. Visit New York City during the holidays.
We had every intention of going this past Christmas but we didn't make the time. No excuses in 2012.

3. Blog at least twice a week.
I totally stole this resolution from a fellow blogger because it is pure genius! All these years I've been resolving to "write on a regular basis" but when your regular blogging schedule is once a month it can still leave much to be desired. Hopefully putting an actual number on it will give me a little more guidance on what is a "regular basis".

4. Organize our closets.
You'd think downsizing from a house to an apartment would be a somewhat difficult task but it wasn't in our case. Our apartment is almost the size of our house only instead of a third bedroom we have 2 walk-in closets, 3 full wall length closets, a linen closet the size of a powder room, and an additional storage area elsewhere in the building. Needless to say, we didn't have to get rid of much even though we probably should have. The only frustrating thing about all of this storage space is it was all haphazardly thrown in place before I arrived and since it was all out of sight and we were having so many troubles with The Elephant Man that we didn't intend to stay for any extended period of time there wasn't much reason to truly settle in. It's still uncertain whether we will stay or go when our lease is up in April -- the pros and cons of which I intend to weigh in a separate blog -- but I'm finding that it will be a) hard to find another apartment or townhouse with nearly this much storage and therefore forcing us to really downsize our clutter and b) hard to move all of this clutter to a new place on our own. Either way, if we stay or we go, I would like to have closets that both make even a little sense and can be somewhat easily transported.

5. Continue to grow and play with Owen and the newest little Keenan due in June!
Say whaaaaat? Did she just imply she is pregnant? Why, yes, I did! And if Facebook hadn't killed my blog you would have found out 2 months ago when everyone else did. We couldn't be more happy and excited to welcome another child into our family. I don't think Owen can truly grasp the concept of what is going to happen come this summer, however, he has taken a sudden interest and curiosity in all things baby. He is going to be a wonderful big brother and Jon and I can't be more excited to see him take on that role. Owen has been such a blessing in our lives and I know his little sibling will only bring us more joy -- lots of sleepless nights and perhaps put me back on antidepressants -- but another little Keenan will be totally worth it.

Heat Wave!

2012-01-07T22:40:00.000-05:00

What do you do when it's January, 65 degrees, and extremely sunny outside? First, you take down all the Christmas decorations, then you throw on your spring jackets and shoes and make the short trek up to the playground to soak up all the rays and fun!

Climbing up the rock wall where he may have received a little help from Daddy.

He kept peeking through the holes and saying "Cheeeeeeese!" but I was never fast enough to catch the smile.

Gotta stop to steer the ship in the right direction...

Sometimes he likes the swings and I thought this might be one of those days.

I was wrong.

Slide trip #13,586. I love him.

I truly thought we'd hit the jackpot when winter arrived and we hadn't seen but 2 days below 60 degrees by the start of the new year. Unfortunately, most of the locals have told me this weather is not the norm. Either way, I'm enjoying my first winter away from lake effect snow and arctic winds. Owen just loves all the extra opportunities to hit the slides.

2011 Self-review

2012-01-05T23:58:00.002-05:00

You know what's really awesome about having so many years worth of recorded resolutions and self reviews? Having the opportunity to look back on them once a year and give yourself a pat on the back for a) writing them so well even you enjoy re-reading them, and b) having the guts to be so brutally honest. I always forget this about myself -- that I have no shame when beating myself over the head via blogging -- and damn, I can write like the best of 'em! It's just a matter of, you know, actually doing it.

2011 was one very challenging and exciting year. Jon accepted a promotion that moved our little family to Baltimore, Maryland -- 350 miles away from home -- but not before Owen and I got to endure 3 months of life without him. This year I learned to have the utmost respect for single mothers and I didn't even have to do it on one income!

We finally met Jon in Baltimore in July and found that life here is somehow more calm and more exciting at the same time. I suppose this is what happens when you reunite with the missing 1/3 of your family and find yourself living in a city with all new places to entertain yourself and with simple day trips to Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, New York City, the east coast. I lived a rather sheltered life as a kid -- I knew our block like the back of my hand but very rarely even ventured to the neighboring city -- and having new adventures and the means to explore them with Owen feels so awesome. We truly are lucky.

Yesterday I admitted to a friend that moving away from so many great friends and all of our family was really hard, and I do get extremely homesick from time to time, but given the choice, I would definitely do it all over again. While we are very much still building our lives here, I do feel very confident when I say we are where we belong. Baltimore is slowly but surely becoming home.

Anyway, in true Deciphering Kate fashion, I am incapable of posting any new resolutions before reviewing how strong the previous year's held up. Let's give it go, shall we?

1. Be more positive.
How can I even begin to compare my outlook on life last year to now? Someone turned on the lights? Pulled the scarf from my eyes? Cleared the clouds from head? Reached into the six foot grave I had buried myself in, grabbed my hand, and gently pulled me out while screaming "You don't have to live like this!"? I'm not sure any of those descriptions are really strong enough. I'm not sure how it even happened. All I know is that girl was in a very dark place and couldn't find a way out. But something or someone helped her out because she's not there anymore. She's actually quite happy.

2. Make time for myself.
This one had to come in baby steps: self pedicures while catching up with the DVR, making a break for it on the occasional Thursday evening and exploring the city by myself (sometimes with GPS, sometimes without depending on how adventurous I was feeling), ignoring the stack of junk mail on the dining room table for a week. Then some time in the last few months I caught myself watching entire seasons of One Tree Hill on Netflix on-demand. I watched 6 seasons in just over a months span. Aw crap! Did I just admit that? Well, it shows that I've learned to make time for myself, right? Don't worry, Grey's Anatomy returns tonight so I'll be able to reinstate my taste in evening soap operas momentarily.

3. Continue to play and grow with Owen.
There was a time during that 3 month period of living apart from Jon when I would have scoffed at and thrown out this resolution had I remembered it. Owen and I did not get along. In fact, Owen did not like most anyone. Owen only wanted his daddy and it broke my heart that I didn't have an immediate fix for him. The funny thing is it didn't even fix itself after moving to Baltimore and living with Jon again. Owen was still convinced his daddy was going to leave and he'd be stuck with ME, the horrible, evil Mommy who isn't half as cool as Daddy. It took another 3 months for Owen to realize neither of us were going anywhere and when he finally had that realization, I was rewarded with the most amazing hugs and kisses! He smiles at me, he yells "MAMA!" like a big, Italian man who hasn't seen his mother in years even if it's only been a few hours, he takes my hand, says "Up!" and leads me to whatever he wants to show me, and he realized that it broke my heart a little when he stopped letting me rock him to sleep and he let me rock him again. Owen is the most absolutely amazing and curious creature I have ever laid eyes on. Every day I'm dazzled by the way his mind works and the joy he finds in such little things. Every night I fight the urge to wake him up so we can play and explore more. We may have had a rocky start, and I may have had my doubts along the way, but right now, at this moment, I can tell you without doubt that I have never known love like what I have for Owen and to have that love reciprocated is the best gift any woman can ever ask for.

4. Find a confidant.
Shortly after making this resolution I realized I have many confidants. For such a quiet and reserved person I seem to put a lot of my business out there, on this blog, on Facebook, in a text message, in person or over the phone. I actually have a very hard time keeping things in and often find myself sharing it with EVERYONE. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm not entirely sure what I was looking for from this resolution and I am actually quite happy with my current means of confiding.

5. Cover my family in bubble wrap and place them in a padded room.
Seeing as my father died back in October this goes down as an EPIC FAIL but at the time of writing I could not have known I would be moving to another state therefore making it much harder to keep everyone safe. Bubble wrap and a padded room would not have helped my father anyway. For what it's worth, I always felt the new distance made my father and I closer somehow. We actually had to put serious effort into keeping in touch and he was so willing to put in the effort that it warmed my heart. I love you, Dad.

As always, this year's resolutions coming soon...hopefully before I break them all!

How we manage to eat in sit-down restaurants with an impatient toddler

2012-01-05T21:21:00.003-05:00

Set to play on constant loop and hand over the iPhone:

We may be frying brain cells but he looks so studiously cute that the other patrons have no clue:

I'll remember you fondly

2012-01-01T22:54:00.000-05:00

With the new year comes the overwhelming urge to end over two months of silence but the only way to do that is to write the words I've been trying to avoid for 2 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day:

My father passed away on October 17, 2011.

I still don't have the words to describe how I feel about the loss only that I miss him very much. One thing I do have to say is that somehow, even though the importance of a father cannot be measured, the loss of mine carries a much different feeling than any of the other losses I've experienced in recent years. The love and admiration I'd come to find in and have for my dad was astonishing, yet his death has not left me with a painful void in my chest every time I think of him. Instead, I have a soft place in my heart filled with fond memories and the feeling of being so blessed to have had as much time with him as I did.

My father's death could not have come as a surprise to any of us. He'd already survived three heart attacks, the first one being nearly 20 years ago, and even though he'd made great strides in improving his health in recent years, test results showed that much of the damage was already done and there was no turning around his own case of type 2 diabetes and congestive heart failure. He did what he could to make the best of it, finally started to treasure the time he had with us, and he didn't let anyone but my mom know just how much pain he was actually in.

What I do know is this: My dad lived a full life. He was married to the love of his life for 44 years with children, grandchildren, and even great grandchildren. No hobby of his went unstudied. He had no shortage of friends who would do anything for him. There was nothing he could look back on in regret. That, to me, is a very full life.

So like I said, I miss my father. I miss our Wednesday Skype nights, the way he played the maracas with Owen, being able to call him for moral support every time I encounter (and have to kill) an ugly, scary bug, and his comforting presence in general, but I can't say that I am overwhelmed with grief by this loss.

I loved my father and he knew it. I can't say that I have any regrets there either.

I wrote a little something to read at his funeral, and surprisingly, I managed to do so without tearing up. In fact, I may have even laughed a little. I know he appreciated that. I thought I'd copy it here for safe keeping:

My dad liked to jokingly refer to his status in the family as 'the bottom of the barrel' or sometimes, if he was feeling particularly dramatic, he'd say he was 'the scum seeping out of a crack at the bottom of the barrel'. He said all of this with a big grin hiding behind his beard. He liked to pretend he was forgotten often but we all knew he was well aware of his importance in our family -- that we all revolved around him just as much as we do our mother -- all 6 children, 17 grand children, and 3 great grand children with another on the way. There is no denying your importance when you are the co-creator of a family this large and full of genuinely good people.

When it came to raising us my parents roles were easily defined: mom was always good cop and dad was always bad cop (unless you asked for something when dad was asleep, then he simply said 'go ask your mother' which was always a given yes!) Dad was typically the enforcer and he actually managed to do it quietly, at least until you either a) talked back to him, or b) disrespected our mother in anyway. I used to think it was our mother who was there to raise us and he was there simply to protect her from us. Now that I am older with a child of my own, I know better. My father, in his own way, was raising us to become kind and respectful adults.

Despite several heart attacks -- each one leaving him a little more bony and pale than the last -- my father grew much softer with age. He left behind his enforcer uniform to reveal a man you couldn't help but adore. He was passionate about his hobbies and eager to share them. His heart, though physically weaker, kept growing bigger with interest and love for his family. He was genuinely excited to see us and he was so openly proud of us all.

One of my strongest memories of my father is on the day of my wedding. I was so excited and nervous that I was nearly running down the aisle, dragging him behind me, when he suddenly chuckled, tightened his grip on my arm and said, "Slow down, Kate, enjoy this moment while it lasts."

I took his advice that day and continued to do so for years to come. I enjoyed every last moment I had with him.

Owen and Grandpa, June 2010

Owen Speak

2011-10-12T21:57:00.000-04:00

It's true what they say, a toddler's language begins as a trickle and very quickly becomes a flood of new words. Here are some of Owen's favorites, and most recent:

Mama
Daddy
Jack
no
shoe
cheese
car
thank you
tree
bye
nana (works for both Grandma and banana)
juice
milk
more
book
nose
eye
waffle
oatmeal
ball

He may say little, but he understands SO much.

I recently discovered he's been talking to us in sign language, so much so that I had to borrow a book from the library to understand what he was saying. Turns out many rough nights could have been avoided if only I'd figured out sooner that he was telling me "more" and "sleep" with his hands. I guess this is what happens when your toddler becomes smarter than you. Believe it or not, I'm stilling trying to track down the source of the sign language.

He's also quite skilled at animal noises, most notably: monkey, dog, sheep, lion, and a very convincing "Naaaaaaaaayyyyyy" of a horse.

I'm not ignoring you, I promise

2011-10-11T22:40:00.000-04:00

October is proving to be a very busy month for us and it's been a wonderful change of pace. I've also been meeting some really nice people who I've found myself bonding with rather quickly which is equally awesome. I'm even going to see a movie tomorrow for the first time since moving here and it's NOT with my husband! More details on the friendly new people to come.

Anyway, this month we have visitors on the way, we're going home for a weekend, and we're venturing to Virginia for what should be an interesting Halloween party. Things are looking up on the social front but I'll do my best not to slip too much on the blog.

This is the sound of my heart breaking

2011-10-03T20:22:00.001-04:00

Owen just made me put him to bed WITHOUT ROCKING AND SINGING TO HIM FIRST. He waved and said "Bye" to me from his crib instead.

This must be the feeling of being unneeded that drives some mothers to think it's time for another baby. I can see how that happens. Next thing you know he'll be singing his ABCs, escorting a girl to homecoming, graduating college, and making me a grandmother.

This can't be happening.

I have three loves in my life

2011-10-02T23:42:00.000-04:00

My husband, my son, and Chipotle. And they were all around the dining room table for lunch today:

This kid can't get enough rice, black beans, and guacamole. It's so good he opted to forgo the fork (which he's perfectly capable of using) and use his fist because it can handle much larger quantities. Disgusting to most, I'm sure, but Mama is quite proud.

It could be work, it could be Facebook, or it could be Angry Birds. Whatever it is, I usually get the overwhelming urge to grab it and throw it across the room, but only while we're eating a meal. I guess I'd prefer he watch Owen and I shovel food into our mouths by the fistfuls. Then again, my iPhone must have been close enough at hand to snap these photos so who am I to complain?

It's like "Choose your own adventure" only I chose it for you...

2011-09-28T11:08:00.000-04:00

You're waiting in the drive-thru at the bank when a blue minivan suddenly whips into the parking lot next door and parks behind the building advertising batteries. A soccer mom in her late thirties jumps out of the driver's seat and runs around to the back of the van where she is entirely hidden from street view.

She doesn't realize she's actually standing right in front of you when she quickly pulls down her shorts revealing a big, cellulite covered butt. And before you can even think WTF! she squats and unleashes enough urine to drown a large army of ants.

You're shocked by what's happening less than 100 feet away so you look around to see if anyone else has noticed. You spot the little old woman in a powder blue Cadillac in the next lane over. She's having trouble fishing her jaw out of her lap while keeping an eye on the other woman. Nope, you're not the only witness to this craziness.

After taking care of business, the woman replaces first her animal print thong, then black pleated shorts remarkably fast and climbs back into the van. You take a second to wonder if she's ever considered keeping a roll of toilet paper in the glove compartment.

She starts the engine and realizes she will have to turn the van around completely in order to get out from behind the building, and in her hurry to relieve herself, she didn't leave herself a lot of room to maneuver. This results in much rocking back and forth between drive and reverse. Just when she's almost gained enough room to leave, she looks over at the bank and notices the little old lady in the blue Caddie all wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and you, with a massive grin, obviously having a hard time holding your shit together.

She suddenly realizes she had an audience all along and whips out from behind the building almost as fast as she pulled in.

I only waited 2.5 months for this

2011-09-27T23:09:00.000-04:00

Last night marked my 11th consecutive night of uninterrupted sleep. I've been hesitant to post anything about it -- and I'm still a little afraid to be typing this now -- because I don't want to jinx it. I feel like Owen is 4 weeks old again and I'm praising God on Facebook because he let us sleep through the night, only this time it isn't Owen, it's a fully grown man with insanely heavy feet and what seemed to be a terrible case of insomnia.

I know I started off saying the Elephant Man wasn't so bad considering, but at some point shortly after my original post he began to get progressively worse each night. What was he doing? Oh, you know, running laps that started just above our heads in the bedroom, progressed down the hall, through the dining room, around the living room, through the kitchen, back up the hall and then around the bedroom about 40 times. This went on ALL NIGHT LONG from 11 PM to 6:30 AM when the dude finally left for what must be a 5 hour stint at work because he'd come home at noon each day and start all over again. There were days when my computer monitor shook from the ruckus going on upstairs.

We were visiting the leasing office an average of once a week to beg for help. They weren't helping. In fact, it seemed to be making matters even worse. We were starting to break, our fuses had run out, and just when we thought it couldn't get any worse, the constant noises started waking Owen in the middle of the night too. What's worse than two grown adults not getting enough sleep? A toddler not getting enough sleep. Twelve days ago, I was pretty sure we would all kill each other.

Then it stopped. Suddenly it sounded like a herd of elephants had moved out and a perfectly normal, perhaps even respectful family moved in, complete with the little pitter patter of toddler feet. No one moved in or out of the building as far as I know, but I'll be damned if all I hear is the occasional creaking of floor boards and not a single heel falling heavily above my head. All of the crashing and door slamming has stopped during the day as well.

I've got my fingers crossed and hopes held high for this to be a permanent change. I worry the Elephant Man has only gone on vacation and could return at any moment. For mine and my family's sake, I really hope that isn't the case. It would be really super awesome to never use the Elephant Man label on another blog post for the rest of my life.

I walked down to the leasing office this afternoon and for the first time in a long time it wasn't to file a complaint. I thanked them instead for finally helping me get a full night's sleep.

His father's son

2011-09-26T17:01:00.000-04:00

I know all of the parenting gurus and "mommies who know best" say you shouldn't let a child under the age of 2 watch any television, but this is one rule we break that I have absolutely no guilt for breaking. Our television is by no means a babysitter. We still do plenty of indoor and outdoor activities together. We just also enjoy watching morning cartoons with our waffles and the occasional Saturday afternoon movie. And even though I was never a huge fan of Star Wars growing up, I'm strangely tickled pink that Owen shares a curious interest in one of his daddy's favorite past times.

How I know I've reached hermit status

2011-09-23T18:00:00.006-04:00

With 12 days left in my cell phone billing cycle:

Anytime minutes: 1 of 450 used

Night & weekend minutes: 17 of 5000 used

Rollover minutes: 0 of 740 used

Text messages: 75 of 1000 used

Days blogged in September: 10 of the last 17

Thirty six

2011-09-22T22:46:00.000-04:00

Today would have been Rick's 36th birthday and all I can think is how in just a few short years us younger siblings will begin to surpass him in age. That's just not how it's supposed to be. Women aren't supposed to be widowed in their early 30s. 13-year-old girls aren't supposed to cry themselves to sleep because they miss their father. 5-year-old boys aren't supposed to look at the sky when they talk to their Daddy. Fathers aren't supposed to feel guilty for surviving 3 heart attacks. Mothers aren't supposed to look back on a miraculous birth and feel so much pain in their heart because the life they brought in to this world was taken away unexpectedly.

It's been over a year and I still cry often, usually close to important days, but it's not usually for my loss. It's for them. As a sister I miss my brother, but as a wife, a child, and a parent, my heart is broken for everyone whose lives were effected on a whole different level from mine. My loss can never compare to what they must experience on birthdays, anniversaries, or even the first day of school.

They say time heals all wounds but losing a loved one at 34 surely leaves a few big, gaping scars.

Traveling Baltimore, Part 2: Inner Harbor & Hampden

2011-09-20T22:56:00.001-04:00

Where were we? Oh, yes! Baltimore's Inner Harbor actually took me by surprise. I guess I was expecting something similar to Downtown Cleveland -- tall buildings, lots of water, and an empty pier or two -- but I got so much more from Baltimore. The harbor is not only beautiful, but it's also very functional. They have shopping malls, restaurants, museums, fountains, Camden Yards Stadium, water taxis, paddle boats and an abundance of free attractions and street artists to gawk at. Perhaps the most memorable moment of our trip was when I started whining about my camera malfunctioning and Jon assuring me it was no big deal, we could just take pictures another time, and just when I was about to mouth off by asking how that was possible I remembered, dude, we live here and I can come down here whenever I want! That realization almost took my breath away. This is our home. Owen will grow up surrounded by this place. I kinda like that idea.

Right next door to the National Aquarium is this really cool building built as a power plant in 1900 and renovated in 2000. It now houses the awesome combination of a Barnes and Noble and a Hard Rock Cafe as well dozens of other small shops and restaurants:

Here is a view of the aquarium from across the harbor.

A view of Federal Hill and the boats docked in front. I didn't notice them at the time, but somehow I caught what appears to be a very sweet moment between two people under the light post.

Standing on the Inner Harbor looking back at Downtown Baltimore. Check out all of the people -- there is so much life here.

This is only one of the many ships and submarines permanently docked in the harbor. Some of them have even been turned into museums.

A fountain!! I've only seen these things in movies...

You know I immediately ripped off his shoes and stuck him in the water.

He wasn't sure what to make of it at first, but just after I snapped this photo a huge smile spread across his face.

Then he ran off and I couldn't ignore the adorable foot prints her left behind.

We stopped by a frozen custard stand and got ourselves some refreshments before leaving for the day.

The original plan was to head home then as it was nearly 5:00 and the closest thing Owen had to a nap was the car ride between Bob Evans and Charm City Cakes, but then I had the most wonderful idea: Hampdenfest!! Hampden is this really awesome, eclectic neighborhood not far from downtown. If you're relatively familiar with the Cleveland area think Coventry Road but spanning many blocks in each direction, without the commercial establishments of BD's Mongolian Barbecue and Chipotle, and instead of cramped apartment buildings it is street after street of attractive row houses. Basically, it's lots of cool, locally owned store fronts selling everything from soaps to pink feather boas to sports memorabilia to coffee scones and Hampdenfest is just a fun way for all of the vendors to get together and setup a sidewalk sale of sorts but with live music, hula hoops, skate board ramps, and a toilet bowl race. I also took this opportunity to have my very first crab soft pretzel. Yep, sounds questionable, but it was quite delicious.

Entering Hampdenfest:

Just in case you managed to miss the men in capes and strange hats racing down hill on toilets with wheels, the race is this way:

What was that I said in my earlier post? Oh, that's right! It isn't Baltimore without a little crab, and it's even better when mixed with football:

This photo of Cafe Hon captures two things very Baltimore: the pink flamingo and the expression "Hon". Hampden is sometimes referred to as Hontown as this term of endearment is used by everyone.

Let it be known that I hate SpongeBob and refuse to let Owen watch the show but there's something about the annoying character that attracts Owen and I couldn't refuse letting him have a balloon. Besides, the balloon bought us enough time to have another beer and catch another song or two despite the little one's lack of a nap. It's been over a week and I still can't get over how well behaved he was that whole day!

And that's it for this trip, folks! We have high expectations for this fall as we still hope to visit Washington, Philadelphia, and NYC although I'm thinking a trip to New York might be more exciting during the holidays, but we'll see. It makes me smile to remember I was 11 years old before leaving Ohio for the first time and Owen's got me beat by almost as many years.

Retail Therapy

2011-09-15T22:15:00.003-04:00

This evening I...

picked up Owen from day care...

came home and fed everyone dinner...

loaded the dish washer...

put on mascara and my coat and told Jon I was leaving...

I was going to blow. I could feel it, but I couldn't explain it. Everything Jon was doing was annoying me, and everything Owen was doing was even worse. I haven't been sleeping well and Jon has been working late every evening and Owen, well, he's doing some SERIOUS teething and boundary testing and I can't keep him happy for nothing. Add to that the fact that I rarely get out of the house for more than picking up Owen, walking the dog, or a little grocery shopping and I was feeling cornered into a never-ending bad situation. See what I mean? BAD MOOD.

So I went exploring again only this time I dared myself not to turn on the GPS...

and I found my way to Timonium...

and I found an Old Navy...

and I found a plaid pea coat in the exact fit and color I've been wanting for a very long time...

and now I have a little chunk of plaid and wool happiness.

Gift from Vegas

2011-09-14T20:40:00.001-04:00

"Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr."

If you don't follow Big Bang Theory this probably looks like a really corny t-shirt, but if you're a fellow geek, then you know just how awesome my husband is for bringing it home for me!

Because I'm feeling very juvenile

2011-09-13T21:36:00.001-04:00

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I met a new friend. Her name is Martha and she's from Minnesota. She has a very cute dog named Poppy. Poppy and Jack get along really well! We made plans to get together tonight so the dogs could have a play date. It was a lot of fun! Poppy and Jack chased each other through the yard while Martha and I got to know each other. Martha's neighbors don't keep her awake at night. Then Martha's friend Mary came out to talk to us. Mary is very nice, too. She brought her dogs Percy and Patterson. Patterson and Jack fought over a tennis ball the whole time. All of our dogs are the same colors. I think we'll be best friends 4 ever!

XOXO,
Katie

Traveling Baltimore, Part 1: The Aquarium

2011-09-12T14:31:00.002-04:00

Quoted from Baltimore's 5:30 newscast on Friday 9/9/11: "Both Washington, DC and New York City have been threatened with terrorist attacks and Baltimore is right in the middle of them! Stay tuned to see what measures have been taken to keep our city safe this weekend."

I'll be the first to admit that most Cleveland news channels are over the top dramatic in an effort to boost their ratings, but somehow Baltimore manages to take it to a whole new level. Is Baltimore between Washington and New York? Absolutely, but so are 230 miles worth of other cities including Philadelphia and the entire state of New Jersey.

Nevertheless, this newscast and the recommendation of a few friends and family made us change our plans about heading to Washington this weekend for the 10th anniversary of 9/11. I thought it would be touching to attend the memorials that are planned but as a mother it also felt a little risky. So, we opted to head out early Saturday morning and explore our own city instead. And I'm so glad we did because it was a spectacular day and a reassuring reminder of just how lucky we were to end up here because this place is just...well...it's very US. I don't even know how else to describe it.

We started off at Bob Evan's for breakfast:

Owen endlessly flirted with our waitress and kept stealing food from my plate. He said thank you or "dank du" to EVERYTHING. He was so charming, in fact, that they decided to take his meal off of the bill and give us coupons for free meals next time. With a face like this (his, not mine) and a pleasant mood, I often find it hard not to give the boy his every wish.

Next, we set out for Baltimore's Inner Harbor but first we made a slight detour at the special request of our Aunt Char and swung by Charm City Cakes, a cake shop so awesome it was worthy of 10 seasons of reality television on Ace of Cakes.

Let me apologize for the quality of this photo in advance. You can probably tell it was taken from the inside of our car, and well, that's because the area was a fun mix of row houses and small corner shops but it looked a little....rough, and I was too much of a candy ass to get out of the car alone and start snapping pictures.

Questionable neighborhood or not, these guys are rock stars when it comes to cakes. And just when I thought I'd have to start up a new savings account to one day TASTE one of their cakes I read that they've released a line of affordable cake pops! Fabulous!

Next up, the National Aquarium in the Inner Harbor and I'm here to tell you that the National Aquarium is like ten thousand gallons of awesomesauce! So much so that we opted to splurge and become members for a year as opposed to buying a one day pass. I mean, Owen isn't even 2 years old and he couldn't get enough of it. It's like the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for all things aquatic. The first exhibit you see is the giant sting ray pool which remains visible through most of the aquarium. They have everything from tiny minnows to massive whale fossils, and a rooftop rainforest. My favorite was probably the giant pink octopus. I cannot recommend it enough if you are ever in the Baltimore area, or even if you're not in the area and want to make plans to crash on our couch after a long day at the aquarium we're totally cool with that, too.

Again, I must apologize as my photos do not even begin to do this place justice. I was focused more on paying attention to and capturing Owen as opposed to the exhibits because, you know, we can go back anytime, but Owen's first impression can only happen once.

The view of the aquarium from Pratt Street:

The 35 foot waterfall that greets you at the entrance:

This was Owen's first face -to-face encounter with fish that day and it introduced his theme for the day-- lots of pointing and shouting "WOAH!":

Crossing one of the horizontal escalators and looking down on the ray pool which was by far Owen's favorite exhibit:

The rooftop rainforest which also offered great views of Downtown Baltimore and the harbor:

Owen and Jon walking through the multi-level shark tank. Owen was equally freaked out by and fascinated with sharks. He wouldn't let go of Daddy's hand:

The dolphin show! I will never forget the look on Owen's face when he heard the dolphins "speak" for the first time and realized a dolphin sounds an awful lot like the squeaky noise he makes every time he sees a monkey. Needless to say, he now makes it whenever he sees a dolphin as well:

Our last stop at the aquarium was the jellyfish exhibit which was kept dark to show off how bright a jellyfish actually is. This is the last photo I managed to take before the battery died on my camera:

And just for kicks, Owen and Jon inside the massive jaws of a shark:

And it isn't Baltimore if there isn't a little crab:

Our next destination was traveling Baltimore's Inner Harbor just outside of the aquarium, and despite having a dead camera I did manage to get some really fun photos with my iPhone. So many, in fact, that this is going to have to be a two part blog.

Stay tuned to see why it's so easy to fall in love with this city!

As long as I'm living my baby you'll be

2011-09-09T22:38:00.000-04:00

When Owen was only a few weeks old and I was desperate for even one solid hour of sleep I remember scouring every piece of new parenting literature I could find for some sure fire way to get him on a sleep schedule. I laugh at that now because I know you can't get a newborn on a schedule. You survive on shots of 5-Hour Energy and chocolate chip granola bars, but I was new to parenting and I was naive and would not learn this until much later.

I did eventually find a routine after roughly 3 months of cohabiting with my munchkin. I learned it was easiest when I started the evening with him in a warm bath, followed by changing into warm and fuzzy footy pajamas (he was a winter baby after all), and a bedtime story, usually a book called Love You Forever. I would then give him his last bottle of the evening and sing him three songs: Hush Little Baby, You are my Sunshine, and Rock-a-bye Baby while I slowly rocked him to sleep. The whole process took nearly two hours, most of which was spent on rocking him to sleep because God forbid if I were to lay him down while still even the teeny tiniest bit awake. If Mama made that mistake she was looking at another 30 or so minutes of rocking, easy.

Anyway, the routine was very time consuming but it worked and at 3 months we were ALL sleeping like a baby through the night, so I tried not to complain too much.

But then...THEN my dumb ass kept searching for parenting tips on the internet and came across this snippet of advice: Whatever bedtime routine you choose for your baby now, be prepared to follow for the next 2 years.

I freaked out. Two years? I was going to lose 2 hours of my life EVERY NIGHT for the the next TWO YEARS?! I wanted to punch myself in the face. This was just one more thing on a very long list of things that I had totally done wrong as a parent. And Owen was only 3 months old. My parenting skills = EPIC FAIL.

Or so I thought then...

Fast forward 15 months. Owen is now 1.5 years old and we still have a very solid bedtime routine to follow. We have bath time only it's not so much about getting clean as it is wearing him out with toy fishes and boats that float around him, lots of stacking cups that he uses to pour water from one to the other, and a crazy bubble machine that sings and lights up.

Bath time is followed by changing into our pajamas and giving Daddy a hug and kiss good night. I love this part because Owen doesn't hug with his arms so much as by laying his head on you and in this case, he's usually burying his face in Jon's thigh (because we're all usually standing at hug time) and then Owen very gingerly reaches out for my hand and we walk to his bedroom.

Sometimes we read a story, but I've quickly learned that life as an 18 month old must be very tiring and there can be mere minutes between sweet, tired little boy and his evil screaming twin so we read a bedtime story when we can but try not to push it.

The nighttime bottle has graduated to a sippy cup of water that he only sips occasionally while sitting in my lap all snuggled in his favorite polka dotted blanket. Owen is too big to cradle anymore. Instead, he sits in my lap with his little legs dangling over the side of the chair, lays his head against my chest and hums along with me as I sing our three favorite bedtime songs. Sometimes we talk afterward -- I tell him how much I love him, and he points to my eyes, nose, and mouth and waits for me to name them all -- but he quickly grows tired and starts pushing against me as if to say, "Yo, Mom, I'm done with this whole bedtime prep thing. Just put me in my crib already!" That's when I finally put him down for the evening. He snuggles deeper into his blanket and rolls over to his side. His eyes aren't even closed by the time I walk out, closing the door behind me, but we don't usually hear from him again until morning.

Our nighttime routine now takes less than 30 minutes and I still want to punch myself in the face....but only for ever thinking that time spent with this precious little boy is time lost. 1.5 years of mothering under my belt and I'm finally realizing just how fast he's growing up.

Deciphering Kate

2011-09-08T22:43:00.002-04:00

Thoughtful Kate wants to put life on hold, leash up the dog, and walk forever. She doesn't care where she's going or where she's been so long as she can stay lost in her head and mentally write blog entries. The dog serves as her excuse to be out, a quiet companion, and her eyes since she isn't paying much attention to her surroundings. Her feet work as a mode of transportation and a crank for her internal monologue. She is most content on cold, rainy nights without an umbrella because wet, stringy hair and feet dyed black from her flip flops make her feel all emo and emo writes good blogs.

Tired Kate wants to march up a flight of stairs, pound on the Elephant Man's door, bitch slap him a few times, knock him to floor, and then slowly and painfully claw out his eyes all while a disturbing, maniacal laugh escapes from the back of her throat. She hasn't had a solid nights sleep since moving here because the Elephant Man doesn't give a shit about waking his polite neighbors at 1:00, 2:00, even 3:00 in the morning. She has complained to the office, pounded on the ceiling, screamed at the top of her lungs in a desperate plea for sleep but the asshole must think it's funny because he only gets more obnoxious. Tired Kate doesn't know how much patience she has left and may very well be featured on the next segment of Baltimore's Most Wanted. She makes no guarantees.

Wallowing Kate has an overwhelming urge to lose herself in bags of Cool Ranch Doritos, Little Debbie's Fudge Rounds, and entire seasons of One Tree Hill. She wants to wrap herself in self pity, fill her insides with high fructose corn syrup, become grotesquely obese, and spend her evenings whining about how the kids on Tree Hill have everything she wants but can never have because she's too fat and ugly and socially awkward. No, she doesn't make a whole lot of sense, she may even lack a single rational bone in her body, but she is one extremely overwhelming pain in the ass.

Lonely Kate is always reminded of something a friend told her a long time ago: "I moved so far away because I was trying to run away from my problems, but what I didn't realize was my problems were in my head, and they followed me all the way out there." Despite this very valuable advice given long before-hand, Lonely Kate moved to Baltimore in the hopes of reinventing herself and is failing, obviously. She wants friends. She wants to meet people. She wants her own "bestie", but she can't figure out how to exchange more than pleasant hellos while out walking the dog. She stupidly thought this was one Ohio problem that could magically fix itself in Maryland, but she was wrong. She recently started trolling this website: www.succeedsocially.com and is actively seeking a babysitter.

10 Things I Love About Working From Home

2011-09-07T22:48:00.000-04:00

1. Quality time with Owen every morning watching cartoons and eating buttermilk waffles.

2. Jack sleeping at my feet while I work and then crawling out from under the desk at 11:59 and stretching in preparation for the daily lunch time walk.

3. Dress code = sweat pants, t-shirt and messy ponytail.

4. Non-stop Pandora radio.

5. The fastest, most convenient food is located IN MY KITCHEN and not some questionable and equally addictive burger joint around the corner.

6. MY OWN BATHROOM . 'Nuff said.

7. Beverly Hills 90210 re-runs on my lunch hour.

8. One tank of gas lasts nearly 2 months.

9. Dinner is often ready before one hungry little monster and his big, hungry father arrive home. This convenience alone makes for some very peaceful evenings.

10. This office space! Working in a space that is created by and for yourself makes a world of difference.

Road Trip Conversations to Remember

2011-09-07T10:13:00.000-04:00

Jon: "I could really go for a tropical drink when we get home."

Katie: "Ooooh! Like a piña colada?"

Jon: "No, no pine cones! I don't like pine cones in my drinks."

Katie: "......I think you mean coconut?"

America, meet The Elephant Man

2011-08-02T21:33:00.004-04:00

I've nicknamed our upstairs neighbor The Elephant Man a.k.a. Old Stompy. He walks through his apartment with diligent and heavy feet. Each step makes me think he must be a man on a mission only most of the time that mission seems to be pacing the floor above my head. Obviously, this is most often noticeable when I'm trying to fall asleep. He, $3.75 for a small load of laundry, and not having the choice of anything other than Comcast cable are my only gripes about reverting back to apartment life. After all, it could be worse. We could be living below us -- 2 adults with heavy feet and the tendency to talk over each other, a toddler who enjoys shrieking as much as he does eating chocolate chip cookies, and a dog who barks at everything, even flies...

Yeah, odd as it is, I think we may have lucked out here.

Anyway, I'm only telling you about the Elephant Man because I have a strange inkling he may become a dominate part of our lives here in Baltimore. After all, I've only met the man once yet he holds the answer to whether or not I'll get a decent nights rest in the soles of his feet.

Welcome to Charm City

2011-08-01T22:05:00.009-04:00

When I first announced that Jon and I would be picking up our family and moving to Baltimore, Maryland I made a promise to my friends and family. I promised I would update my blog regularly so they could still feel like a part of our everyday lives, and mostly, so they wouldn't feel as though they missed out on watching Owen grow up. Alas, we have been in Baltimore for exactly one month already and I have failed miserably at updating this poor, forgotten blog, so please bare with me as I collect my barrings and remember how to write.

Getting out here was no easy task. Owen and I lived without Jon for 3 months -- and let me tell you -- it was 3 of the worst months of my life. Kudos to all the single and military moms out there who manage to hold a full time job, keep a clean house, and raise a well-balanced child. I don't know how you do it as I was ready to throw in the towel after 2 weeks. It has never been more apparent that Owen is a Daddy's Boy. I could not keep him happy. He and I spent most evenings crying together at the dinner table. He cried because he missed his father. I cried because I missed my best friend and was forced to live with an unhappy 1 year old who didn't know how to do anything but cry. Just saying this probably makes me a crummy mother, but Owen and I, we spent so much time together in those 3 months in which we wanted to be with someone else that I think we STILL need some time apart. We love each other very much, we both just needed more Jon in our lives and less Owen or Mama.

But, it is over. We are here. We have been here since July 1st. Owen has been reunited with his daddy and I have been reunited with my husband and best friend. I think we could live in a tiny, run down shack with a leaky roof and only stale bread to eat and life would be better than ever just because we're all together again. As it is though, we live in a really awesome apartment with a wonderful yard to go cruising in the Cozy Coup, a pool, a playground, and a cool home office where I get to work in my pajamas every day. We're within walking distance to everything we need (in fact I still have Ohio gas in my car) and...wait for it...10 minutes from IKEA! That alone, my friends, should be illegal. All material things aside though, we are so truly happy. We are more of a family unit than we have been since the day Owen was born. Life seems to have slowed down enough for us to actually enjoy it. I don't feel like we're scrambling to do a million things at once anymore. I finally feel as though we're free to take a lazy Saturday and spend the day watching episodes of The Wire if we so choose, because by golly, whatever needs done can wait until tomorrow. I had very little doubt of that from the time Jon was offered the promotion, and even if there were a lot of doubt most of it would have disappeared with the freakish way things kept falling into place and making a 350 mile move so easy. But now -- now that we've been here -- I can say with absolutely no doubt whatsoever -- this is where we are supposed to be. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss little bits and pieces of Ohio, but this is where we belong. I -- the worry wort, queen of the grass is always greener, and pessimistic perfectionist -- am at peace.

Lots of wonderful things have happened in the last month and I hope to be able to fill you in on all of it as well as keep you updated on everything else as it happens, but for now, let me leave you with a few photos of my growing boy. He and I may be at odds occasionally, but he still melts my heart:

What's up, Kate?

2011-05-08T23:10:00.001-04:00

Part of me can't help but wonder what the neighbors must think. My husband disappears one day and a For Sale sign shows up in the yard the next. It reeks of divorce, doesn't it? What would you think if I told you Jon moved to Baltimore and left Owen and I behind? Still sound like marriage problems? Well, rest assured, Jon and I are still very much in love. Jon received a promotion at work and it means relocating to Baltimore, Maryland. He's already there -- has been for about a month -- and Owen and I stayed behind to handle getting the house on the market and preparing for a 350 mile move.

The original thought was that once Jon was promoted I would become a stay at home mom but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I would have been miserable without the help of a second income. I love to shop, I love vacations, I love to have money in the savings account and none of that could have happened on one income. Also, having Owen in day care has made me much more aware of just how much he loves people and other children especially. Considering neither Jon nor I are very social, I've been extremely concerned I would destroy any type of social skills Owen seems to be building already. I can sit here and tell myself about all of the trips to the zoo or library or museum we could take if I were home with him but actually doing it is an entirely different story. All of my stay at home mommy friends live in Ohio, not Maryland and I don't know that I trust myself to do these things on my own. That said, I'll continue to be a working mom, but a really amazing opportunity has stemmed from this decision. When I told my current company about my family relocating I asked if I could work out of my home in Baltimore and -- get this -- they said YES! I'll remain a working mom, but I'll be a work from home mom.

My last day at the corporate office will be June 30th. Does that date sound familiar? I lost my job on June 30, 2009. I lost my brother on June 30, 2010. I'm no longer living in fear of what devastating thing will happen on June 30, 2011. It's going to be bittersweet as I'll be remembering my brother and reflecting on the last year without him, but also reuniting with my husband after 3 months of living apart.

The last month has been strange to say the least. I'm lonely. Very, extremely lonely. I talk to Owen a lot and when he goes to bed I talk to the dog. I'm very productive since I know that if I don't do something it won't get done. The days go by so fast and yet the weeks seem to be crawling by. How is that possible? I miss Jon. He comes home every other weekend. The weekends he's home seem to go by in the blink of an eye.

Jon lives in a lovely apartment in Towson, Maryland. He has 2 bedrooms and a den, 2 baths, a bed, a dresser, a card table, some camping chairs, an old television and an Xbox 360. He uses the cardboard box from the new vacuum cleaner as a kitchen trash can and a blue Ikea bag as a laundry basket. He's bachelorin' it up again and he's even more lonely than I am. After all, I at least have Owen and the dog.

Was there an easier way to do this? Probably, but so much has already fallen into place for us that I'm absolutely positive that we chose the correct path, even if it was the harder one.

So....we're moving to Baltimore!!! Can you believe it? I can't but I'm really, really, really excited. This move opens up so many doors for us, and for Jon's career especially. We can only go up from here. The last month has sucked and I don't expect the next 2 months will be any easier but these 3 months will only be a small blip in the large scheme of our lives.

Evacuate the dance floor!

2011-02-07T23:01:00.001-05:00

Dear Internetz,

I have a new addiction. It's Dance Central for the Kinect. I just spent 1 hour and 45 minutes DANCING, doing everything I could to score 5 stars on each song, and beat the scores of my husband's Xbox Live friends. This is funny because I'm very uncoordinated, I look ridiculous doing 99% of the moves, but I'm extremely competitive and MUST BEAT EVERYONE'S SCORE! The last time this happened an obsession with Wii Fit was born and 70 pounds were lost. So, I guess I'll see you sometime next year as I will be taking up new residence in front the family room television once again.

Love,
Kate

I found an angel in my mailbox today

2011-02-03T20:22:00.001-05:00

The hall at my parents complex didn't work out for Owen's first birthday party so we'll have to cram the whole family into our house. I'll admit a few stress-induced tears were shed when I first found out, but the invitations arrived today (finally!) and made up for it:

I say finally because I was a little late in ordering them anyway and the recent "adverse weather conditions" delayed the shipment even further -- what a mess! By the time I get them addressed and mailed the family will be lucky to have a week's notice, but hey, they're super cute so it's all good!

One very loaded statement

2011-02-02T22:09:00.000-05:00

A text I sent to Jon midday Monday while I was dealing with extreme sinus pressure unlike any I've experienced before:

How do you manage to make it through the work day like this? I think I'd rather be giving birth...

And for those of you who don't know, since I've yet to finish Owen's birth story (it's coming soon!!) I did not receive an epidural. The sinus pressure...it was THAT BAD.

Communication breakdown

2011-02-01T21:32:00.000-05:00

It's happening more often now and it's usually on nights when Jon is out of town. It seems Owen likes to wait until he has me all to himself to spend a good chunk of the evening yelling at me. It's not a cry--there are no tears involved--it's clenching his fists, opening his mouth wide, and yelling as loud and as long as he can until he turns bright red in the face. I know it's only because he doesn't know how to simply tell me what he wants. I know this because I spend most of this time choking back tears and anger because I can't find a way to tell him yelling at me isn't going to help either of us. We have officially reached a communication barrier. My little boy knows what he wants but he doesn't have the words to tell me what it is.

Evenings like this kill me. Evenings like this serve as an annoying reminder that I don't know what I'm doing. The panic sets in pretty quickly. I start doubting I'll ever know what I'm doing and if I'm actually capable of raising a bright and happy child. Evenings like this make me feel like I'm slowly and miserably failing motherhood.

Then something weird happens. I miraculously snap out of the doubt that is closing around me. I say so what and keep trying to find whatever it is he's looking for. We sit down. We play with blocks. He gives me a high five every time I ask for one. We watch a little Nick Jr. I give him a bath and squirt him with the little bath time fishes. He brushes his teeth while I put on his pajamas. I read him a book and when he's heard enough he touches the page and grunts. We'll finish the book tomorrow night. I set him in his crib and he reaches over to turn on his Baby Einstein fish tank. I tuck him in and kiss him good night. We'll start over again in the morning.

I'm not failing. My child is already bright and happy. It's just that motherhood makes me feel really stupid sometimes, especially when he's yelled/I've listened for hours only to find he wanted some Cheerios, but it's all part of the process. I forget that sometimes. I forget that often. He and I are teaching each other. He's searching for words and gestures to help me understand and I'm paying very close attention. I'm telling him the name of every item I hand him so that one day, in the not so distant future, he won't have to spend another evening yelling at me for lack of a better word.

12 years ago today...

2011-01-31T07:12:00.002-05:00

my husband gave me the first of what would be many, many silly sports analogies:

"So let's say I was going for a lay up--would I make a slam dunk or would I be rejected?"

Translation: If I ask you out right now would you say yes or no?

My response:

"You never would have been rejected."

I'm not exaggerating when I say I knew long before that moment that I was going to marry him. Jon is one of the very few things in my life I saw, wanted, and pursued until I had it. Somehow I knew he was the only person who would ever truly 'get me', and 12 years later, snuggled in bed together with Owen between us and Jack at our feet, I'm pretty sure I hit a grand slam.

Why I barely slept last night

2011-01-27T07:00:00.000-05:00

I finally called my mom for the details on renting the club house at their apartment community. Step one to planning Owen's first birthday party! Can this really be happening??

I don't know that I could handle it if the rest of my years with him go by this fast.

One of those moments I don't want to forget

2011-01-25T21:38:00.000-05:00

Jon: "Part of the meeting was they asked me to draw three things that have impacted my life. I drew a ring, a little boy looking out over the bars of his crib, and a cancer ribbon. The first two are obvious--you and Owen--the third was because of all the people we've lost to cancer. I told them that I don't know anyone who has survived it."

Me: "You lied."

Jon: "No I didn't. Who?"

Me: "Think about it. Losing her may have devastated you more than anyone else."

Jon: "Oh wow!"

Me: "Your Aunt Char recovered from her breast cancer so well that you forgot she even had it!"

Jon: "That's amazing."

Me: "I know. I've got goosebumps."

Making deals with God

2011-01-08T09:51:00.000-05:00

Most people don't know this, but I donated blood the day before Rick died. I'd never donated before but I woke up that morning with the most magnificent idea. I had a deal for God: I'd donate my blood to help replace the multiple bags Rick had needed since learning of his cancer. I'd help give back what he took, and in return, God would spare his life. It felt like such the perfect plan that I may or may not have imagined myself shaking hands with God, making the deal unofficially official. I was going to save Rick's life.

I waited an hour in the traveling blood clinic. I sat patiently and watched as potential donors checked their watches repeatedly. Some just shook their heads and continued to wait, and others walked away. I watched a man faint as he climbed down from the donation table and he had to be placed in a special chair that could be laid back to help re-circulate his blood. I was a little freaked out, but I wasn't going anywhere. And when it was all said and done, after they'd interrogated me for my health record, and taken my blood, I walked out of there feeling like a rockstar with a bandage on my arm and a half eaten bag of Famous Amos cookies in my hand. I couldn't wait to walk into the hospital later sporting my "I Donated Blood Today!" sticker and whenever someone asked me about it I was going to say, "I did it for Rick."

He died 20 hours later.

Grief consumed my family after that and I didn't think much about my blood or giving it away. That is, until I received a thank you letter from The Red Cross. It said THANK YOU FOR SAVING A LIFE in bold, red letters across the top. I started crying, then sobbing, then ripping the letter into tiny pieces as I screamed, "But I saved the wrong life!"

I don't believe that anymore.

At some point along the way I put my anger aside and was able to come to my senses. I now give blood whenever I'm eligible. I situate myself on a large metal cot. I watch as the nurse swabs my arm with iodine. They prick me with a needle and I watch my blood flow into a bag at my side as I squeeze and release a therapeutic ball. All the while I think about my brother. I still do it for him and for all the kind people who donated their blood to keep him alive as long as he was. It's like a memorial for him every 56 days, and I walk away feeling like a rockstar every time, because even though my blood didn't save my own brother, it CAN save someone else's loved one.

My Heart

2011-01-05T22:16:00.000-05:00

I snapped this photo just before lunch on Monday and then I emailed it to Jon with the caption: "Why I need to be home ALL THE TIME!"

Don't worry, these are happy tears!

2011-01-04T20:52:00.003-05:00

The last time my siblings and I all posed before a camera together was the summer of 1993, maybe? All I really know for sure is I was 11-years-old, we were in Lac du Flambeau, Wisconsin for a family reunion, and there were plenty of big bangs, mullets, and teenage acne to go around. Too much information? Sorry, what I'm trying to get at is we don't have a recent picture of the 6 of us and when my brother Rick passed away last year so did our chances of getting one.

So, as a surprise Christmas gift, my brothers and sisters and I decided to do the next best thing: take a picture of the 5 of us and Photoshop Rick in there. I know it sounds a little creepy, but the final result -- framed, matted, and wrapped in shiny Christmas paper -- brought tears to our mom and dad's eyes:

(From left to right: Kristin, Rob, Kimberly, Ron, me, and Rick above.)

A special thanks to my mother-in-law, Christine, for taking time out of her busy schedule to snap some photos of us, and to my nephew-in-law for using his crazy awesome Photoshop skills to help us make the perfect gift for our parents.

Funny how we never did this before saying time and schedules wouldn't allow, but when it NEEDED done, we did it, and we had a good time!

Here are few additional shots from our "photo session":

P.S. Yes, Kristin is VERY pregnant, like due-any-minute-now pregnant. No, I am not even though it looks that way!

Top 10 reasons extended weekends float my boat

2011-01-03T11:40:00.000-05:00

1. Unlimited time with Owen and his toys and his laugh and his mad musical talents.

2. Sweatpants 'round the clock.

3.Morning nap.

4. Owen!

5. Law & Order marathons.

6. Sleeping in.

7. Blogging mid-day.

8. Owen!

9. Afternoon nap.

10. Owen!

2011 New Year Resolutions

2011-01-02T19:46:00.003-05:00

I anticipate 2011 will be a year of rediscovery and changing my frame of mind. Back in 2008 I reached a point where I really did not like the person I'd become and small step by small step I changed everything I hated to become someone I loved. I plan to do it again, and this is how:

1. Be more positive.
I wish I could understand where this abundance of negativity is coming from. I've always been a "grass is always greener" kind of gal but what I've been experiencing and exuding this last year is ugly even for me. I feel like I never have anything upbeat to say and my thoughts are very, very dark. I've convinced myself it's all a conspiracy, that the whole world is out to get me and they want me to feel like shit. I've never felt so alone in my life and I'm pretty sure it's all my own doing. This year I need to promise myself that I'll stop jumping to conclusions and thinking the worst of people. I have to look in the mirror and not out the window.

2. Make time for myself.
I played with the wording on this one for a long time. I needed a resolution that encouraged me to take care of myself, to be healthy, to read books, to get a manicure, or take a bubble bath. I needed something to remind me to look after myself too, and when I stopped to think about why I haven't done these things in the last year it's because I don't have time. That's what I told myself anyway. I've put so much time and energy in trying to be Wonder Mom and Wonder Wife that I lost my own sense of self-worth in the process, subsequently destroying all attempts at being the best ME I can be for myself and my family. This year I need to make the time. I can't be Wonder Mom or Wonder Wife when I don't like myself or who I have become. I need to be proud of who I am and appreciative of what I have and I can only do that through rediscovering my confidence and slowing down just enough to look around and enjoy my life.

3. Continue to play and grow with Owen.
My son is amazing. He's taught me patience, love, understanding, and my heart grows a little bigger every time I witness him notice something new about the world. This past Christmas -- his first Christmas -- he looked at every package, took off the decorative bow, and turned around to play contentedly with his new "toy". He didn't need what was inside because he was more than happy with the free stuff on the surface. He has an appreciation for everything no matter how big or small and I want to be there every step of the way to enjoy this time and learn everything I can from this precious little boy.

4. Find a confidant.
My husband is my best friend but I've come to realize that my husband cannot handle listening to my worries and woes -- not because he isn't a good listener -- but because it tears him apart when he can't fix whatever worry or woe I've brought to him. I need to find someone I can vent to. I need someone who can nod their head while I bitch/scream/cry, tell me it will all be okay, and then we'll be on our merry way. Constructive criticism or advice are always welcome but not required. I think this blog will have to do for the time being but it's a lot easier to vent when I don't have to worry about making sense (or sounding completely sane) to the masses.

5. Cover my family in bubble wrap and place them in a padded room.
I know, I know, I'm only setting myself up to fail with this one because there is no way anyone in their right mind would let me cover them in plastic and lock them in a room all year, but given the losses we've suffered this year it's awfully tempting. What I can do is encourage everyone to make the time to take care of themselves too. I know a few family members who have made resolutions to get back in shape and I can help motivate them by providing advice and encouragement. Now that I'm a non-smoker (exactly 1.5 years smoke-free as of today!!!) I can take a stand and help motivate the last few family members and friends to stop smoking as well. I can't forcefully protect anyone but I can offer my time and experience as means to help make the most of their health.

Why I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight

2011-01-01T22:42:00.001-05:00

"Hmm...I WAS very excited about 2010 but thus far we need a plumber, a TV repair technician, and my husband is about 5 minutes away from telling me he needs to go to the hospital to have a splinter removed from his foot. What are my chances of getting 2009 back?!" -- my January 1, 2010 Facebook status

Hence the reason I promised Jon we would ring in 2011 on a much more positive note. Unfortunately, I failed to come through on my promise. Owen and I have had a very pleasant first day of January, but Jon on the other hand, woke up this morning around 8:45, jumped out of bed, ran straight to the bathroom, and hasn't been able to remove his head from the toilet since. He's definitely not hung over so I'm left to believe he's got whatever crappy flu virus has been going around. Yuck.

The thing I don't understand is how well he's handling it. On the rare occasion when I'm vomiting uncontrollably for an entire day I can be found sobbing on the bathroom floor, begging the nearest person to put me out of my misery, but Jon is holding himself together really well. His demeanor is strangely calm, collected, and reasonable. It's almost as if he already realizes this too shall pass. He whines like a little a girl when he has a cold (or splinter), but my husband takes the flu like a MAN.

This is also the first major sickness we've had in the house since Owen was born so I'm doing everything I can to keep it from me and the baby. The last thing I want is the 10-month-old version of whatever this is. A sick baby's eyes can break a woman's heart.

Anyway, Happy New Year from the Keenan household! We weren't successful at ringing in the new year without incident but that doesn't stop me from believing this year has the potential to be a very exciting, fulfilling, and prosperous one.

2010 Self-review

2010-12-30T23:50:00.000-05:00

Hello? Is anyone there? I didn't think so. That's okay...I have no social life on or off line so I'm pretty good at talking to myself anyway. Wait...what? You're still here? Oh bless your pretty sweet soul!

It's that time of year again. The time where I go in search of my New Year's resolutions and evaluate my performance. Self reviews are the hardest, you know. And it doesn't help when last year's resolution entry makes me want to bang my head against a concrete wall. I thought 2009 was a bumpy one? I thought 2009 included some of the lowest lows of my life? Honey, it was just starting!

2010 will forever go down in the record books as the year full of love and loss. I brought LIFE into this world. I gave birth to a beautiful little boy who surprises and amazes me every second I'm around him, and yet I felt like death was following me everywhere--first when my brother died in June, again when Jon's lovely Aunt Cynthia passed away November 22 after a long, brave battle with cancer, and again on December 6 when our precious dog Macy became so horribly ill we had no choice but to have her put down. I've seen so many wonderful things this year yet I've had to watch so many wonderful lives fizzle and fade away. Every bone in my body wants to say I HATE 2010 but I can't because nearly four years of hoping and praying for a baby finally came to fruition.

I don't know what else I can say.

Fortunately I only made one resolution: "I want to be the best mommy I can be. I want to be the mother who is madly in love, attentive, interested, and active in her child's life. I can't promise to lose the baby weight, or start saving for college right away, or to keep the house immaculate at all times. All I can do is promise to do my best, and love this little miracle for all he's worth."

In my very unprofessional opinion, I only recently succeeded at this goal. I didn't write about it here because I was too embarrassed/ashamed/sad/infuriated/disgusted with myself to admit that I was suffering from a severe case of postpartum depression. I never once wanted to hurt Owen but I often thought about hurting myself. I often thought I was in over my head, that I could never love my child as much as he deserved to be loved. Only recently did I realize I can love him enough and I do love him enough and I need him just as much as he needs me. That bond I felt with the baby kicking inside of me? It's finally back and it's stronger than any bond I have ever known.

So did I succeed in being the best mommy I can be? Yes. Was I perfect? Absolutely not! I did, however, stress WAY too much about losing the baby weight (it's all still there!!), saving for college (yet there is nothing...), and keeping the house immaculate (okay, maybe I...nope, didn't pull that one off either!).

Black beans and cherry apple sauce

2010-11-28T19:57:00.001-05:00

There couldn't be a more fitting bib.

Zonked

2010-11-28T19:30:00.001-05:00

Making up for all those missed naps this holiday weekend.

Now that's what I call a workout!

2010-09-15T21:32:00.000-04:00

Face the color of beets, clothes sticking to skin, and legs can barely carry my weight. Damn, that feels good!

Now for some Jimmy Johnson and Survivor...

Walking a dog in the hood

2010-09-14T21:25:00.000-04:00

Boy on bike: "Hey lady! Don't bring your dogs this way!"

Me: "Why?"

Boy: "There's a giant black dog back there and it's not tied up!"

Me: "Dammit. Black Ugly is loose again..."

Boy: "What?"

Me: "Nothing. Thanks for the warning!"

We went the other direction and walked by the ferocious, chain-link-fence-jumping, man-eating pit bull instead.

Weekly Progess Report: Week 1

2010-09-14T21:15:00.001-04:00

(This was written and should have been posted last Friday. I must have been working out so hard that I completely forgot! Yeah, that's it...)

Current Weight: 195 lbs (-5)

Average workout duration: 60 min.

Average daily consumption: 2100 calories

Feeling: Tired, but surprisingly good considering I have to wake up by 5:00 AM to maintain some semblance of a workout routine. What's that old saying? You have to expend energy to create energy? I think that's what I've done here. There were days this week when Jon turned to me and asked, "How are you still going?" It may shock him, but it makes me proud. I haven't had extra energy for a long time, and it feels so good! Actually, I'm kind of convinced just learning I was pregnant with Owen sucked all the energy right out of me for well over a year.

That being said, I feel good now, but I hope to feel even better in the coming weeks. I have a long road ahead of me and I hope to tighten my belt (no pun intended, har har) and see even faster progress soon.

More fun with cousins

2010-09-09T22:41:00.000-04:00

Isaiah? Isaiah? Isaiah? Isaiah? Isaiah?

I'M A MONKEY!

Can I eat these?

Copy cat!

Big foot!

Is that the end, mama? Oh, okay, I'll look cute and cuddly.

No Regrets

2010-09-08T20:49:00.000-04:00

My sister in law says there is nothing she would do differently in the days leading up to my brother's death and I think that's amazing. I can't imagine the pain and heartache of losing a husband, a best friend, and the father of my children, and it's comforting to know that she has no regrets. I guess that's the least God could offer her.

I do, however, have regrets, 2 actually:

1) I would have hugged him more, and told him I loved him at least one more time had I known what was coming.

2) I would have taken a picture of him with Owen.

I don't dare compare my grief to that of his family, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't break my heart to know that Owen will never know his Uncle Rick, and the least I could have done was snap a photo to show Owen one day, to assure him that his uncle did know and love him.

Rick did hold Owen, multiple times actually, and he interacted with him even more. He held him for the first time on Easter Sunday. Owen was only 6 weeks old and unlike a lot of people with such small babies, Rick took Owen from my arms with precision and confidence. He didn't have the fear of handling something so fragile which I saw all too often. And once the tiny Owen was securely in his arms, Rick began cooing at him, and said, "So this is my new nephew! Hi there little guy!"

Another time that comes to mind when I think of Rick and Owen was a day at my parent's apartment. It was Memorial Day and Owen was laid back in his bouncer doing some people watching (and there are plenty of people to watch in our family!) when Rick walked by, spotted him and said, "Hey Owen! You're just a happy little guy, aren't you?" then he turned to me and said, "You're lucky, my kids would never sit quietly like that!" It was one of those moments that reminded me just how lucky I was to have a baby as relaxed as Owen, something I didn't let myself see all too often in those early months.

No matter how much I regret not having captured those moments in a photograph, I can't change it. I did, however, take advantage of a moment this weekend to get the next best thing:

Owen smirking with his cousin Vanessa, Rick's daughter, showing just how happy a little guy he is.

Owen and his cousin Zachary, Rick's son, stealing a glance at Great Grandma Greene with a giant Lite Brite cube between them.

What I have to remember is that while Owen will never know his Uncle Rick, he will know him through the memories I have to share, and the time he has with his cousins, because Vanessa and Zachary are proof of just how cool a person Rick was, and how he was one half of a really fantastic parental unit.

Domesticated

2010-09-07T14:37:00.000-04:00

Right this moment I'm enjoying my last day of vacation for the year 2010 while sitting at my dining room table, looking out at my quaint little cul de sac, and eating lunch of tuna salad on whole wheat pita and a fruit bowl on the side. Oh, and I'm the only person home! Jon went off to work this morning and dropped Owen off at the babysitters on his way, and I'm taking a day for myself for the first time since early February. It's been so long since I've had an abundance of time to myself that I'm not even sure how to take advantage of it. So far I've slept in, worked out, showered, done a bit of laundry, and wiped down the kitchen. And in the middle of each task I caught myself stopping and listening quietly for the baby as if for just a second I forgot he wasn't here. I sighed loudly and smiled each time I remembered I had the house to myself.

A few people warned me that this day would be hard on me, but so far it really hasn't been. Do I miss Owen? Sure, I love having him around. Do I miss him so much that I can't enjoy time to myself? Definitely not. I don't know what that says about me as a mother--whether I'm horrible or normal--but even though I love my little boy from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, the constant attention required to take care of, or the worry of whether or not I'll have enough time to finish a small task before he wakes up, can be down right exhausting. I was once told to be extra careful to not lose my sense of self once I became a mother, but I'm not sure how anyone could accomplish that. The role of mother is much too consuming, and far too important to remain as your very own entity. And especially if you're breastfeeding, not even your body is your own. I don't know, maybe I'm doing it wrong. My experience so far has been Owen calling the shots, Owen playing the boss, and even 10 minute breaks are provided sparingly. Luckily, he's a very cute boss.

Anyway, I'm enjoying my time away from all of the bosses in my life right now.

Still on the agenda for the day: a little shopping, a little writing, a walk with the dogs, preparing a turkey loaf for dinner, and hopefully a few Trading Spaces re-runs. If I've learned only one thing from motherhood thus far, it's this: forget schedules, plans, and to do lists, because none of it can be guaranteed. The best way to truly enjoy every moment is to wing it and the rest will simply fall into place.

Eating Excuses

2010-09-06T23:59:00.000-04:00

I had come within 40 pounds of my goal weight before finding out I was pregnant with Owen. I realize 40 pounds still sounds like a long way to go but when you start out with 120 to lose, you can almost taste victory with only 40 left. You start letting yourself belief that soon you'll be able to shop in ANY clothing store, that soon you'll be able to put on your swimsuit and still feel confident, that it was only a matter of days before you'll feel truly comfortable in your own skin for the first time in your life. Well, that's how I felt at least. 70 pounds lost in one year and I was in the best shape of my life.

Most of you have known me long enough, or have been reading this blog long enough, to remember what I was like in those first 3 or 4 months of my pregnancy: scared to death. I was so completely convinced I was going to lose my baby, so convinced the second I became comfortable and let myself enjoy the idea of finally having a baby it would die in my womb and I'd be left with an incurable broken heart. I never mentioned it here, but I even stopped exercising completely because I thought the safest thing for my baby would be to lay around on the couch all day. I had just been laid off by Reader's Digest which only enabled the situation. I didn't have to work, I didn't have anywhere to go, so I hauled up on the couch and watched the Discovery Health Channel and rubbed my belly all day. It didn't take long before I was justifying nightly binge eating by thinking I may never have the chance to experience pregnancy again, so why deny myself anything? And while it is true--we may never be so blessed again--I have found myself 30 pounds heavier and really confused by how I ever managed to lose so much weight before! I don't understand where the discipline came from, or the energy, or the overall motivation. I obviously had more time. I recorded every morsel of food that entered my mouth, every calorie I burned in exercise, and worked out every day for 60 minutes or more.

I don't have that kind of time now, but I can take some time to look after myself. I have to take some time to look after myself. I crave being comfortable in my skin again. I want to enjoy shopping for clothes again. Most of all, Owen deserves a confident Mama. His life can only benefit by me improving my quality of life.

So, it starts now, while I'm sitting solidly at an even 200 pounds. I've been bouncing around between 190 and 200 since having Owen. My goal will be small and just shoot for the 170 pounds I'd reached before letting myself go during pregnancy. I may never hit the 120 pound goal I had originally, but I don't care about that anymore. I've spent most of my life accusing the world of being fat phobic, but I think I've finally realized that it's not the world that's fat phobic, it's me. Expect a short update and weekly weigh-in in the months to come.

Lucky for us, San Antonio gave him back peacefully

2010-09-02T20:27:00.000-04:00

Psst...Hey mommy, wanna know a secret???

My daddy is home!! (...And he gave me a bath and dressed me like Pooh and I'm not so sure how I feel about that but I'm glad he's home!)

The home stretch

2010-09-01T21:31:00.001-04:00

The last 5 days with Owen have been so much fun but I think we're both ready for Jon to come home. I know I am because I miss my husband. I assume Owen is because it must get boring seeing the same face day in and day out.

Jon's absence has been kind of weird this year. The dogs are only just now starting to show signs that they've realized he's missing and Owen doesn't seem to have skipped a beat. In fact, I told Jon during our daily phone conversation (Yes, only one phone call per day with a 5 minute time limit. I'm a little salty about it if you can't tell) if the baby becomes cranky upon his return I will not hesitate to send him away again. I was only half kidding.

Anyway, things went off without a hitch here, which tells me I did a good job in preparing. Better than I had suspected even. I think it was a combination of Owen being a little more independent with age, me being a bit more productive/efficient in the things that need done because if I didn't do them, who would, and the fact that I finally took the time to sit back, relax, and just enjoy my son. It's never been more obvious how easily a baby can pick up on nerves and stress. I've been stress free and he's been an absolute doll. It can't all be coincidence.

My daily routine went a little like this:

Wake up at 5:45, shower, dress, eat breakfast, wake up Owen, feed Owen breakfast, pack up car, drop Owen off at sitter's, and head into work.
Work till 5, pick up Owen, come home, wash bottles, play with Owen and dogs, fix Owen's dinner, fix my dinner, eat dinner together at table.
Cuddle up in bed and watch approximately 15 minutes of Dora, have tickle fest, then it's bath time.
Give Owen bath, get him ready for bed, give him last bottle while rocking him to sleep.
Pack Owen's food for the next day, pack my lunch, poor a bowl of Reese's Puffs cereal, pull out the laptop and write a blog while eating.
Check Facebook.
Go to bed and watch Nick at Nite until I fall asleep.

Perfect? Definitely not, but I never once felt frantic or overwhelmed. I never once felt like I was shorting Owen of attention. I never once felt like I was losing my sense of self.

It may have been Jon who was out having fun, eating 60 inch pizza's somewhere in San Antonio with his buddies (jealous? me? no.....) but it really has felt like a retreat here, too. Even though it has been just as busy as ever, it felt a little less chaotic. I needed that in order to find my role as "mother" in this world of mine.

Hi Mom

2010-08-31T21:03:00.002-04:00

"I read your blog again."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and I cried a lot."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, it was beautiful. And I've enjoyed everything you've been writing about Owen."

"Do you check my blog every day?"

"Yes, and I'm disappointed when you haven't written anything...so keep writing."

That was the conversation I had with my mom at 7:50 this morning when I called to tell her I wouldn't be able to walk on our lunch hour. I thought it was cute. My mom has always encouraged my writing and always seemed interested but I don't know that she's ever had the opportunity to get this deep into my thoughts before....unless she snuck a peek at my journals in high school? I wouldn't be surprised.

So, mom, it's obvious you're interested, and taking the opportunity to read what I have to say even now, but the questions is, how far back have you gone into the archives? Back to May 2008 perhaps? It's another one that may make you cry. I know I cried when I wrote it:

Originally written Monday, May 12, 2008
Sunday Letters Vol. 1

Note: Yes, I realize the subject says Sunday Letters and today is in fact Monday, but if I'm going to be completely honest here I started writing it yesterday, but I started crying, and then my husband found me, and I decided I needed to distance myself from it for a while. Of course, then one thing led to another and my A.D.D. kicked in and I lost myself in the Survivor Reunion Show. Sorry Mom, but let's face it, you would have done the same thing for Survivor!

Dear Mom,

When I first told you that I would be moving out on my own almost 8 years ago you started crying, and I felt stupid because I couldn't understand why. You and I weren't getting along very well anymore and I thought my moving out of your house would actually make you happy, but that didn't seem to be the case. A couple of weeks went by before I finally caught you alone and asked what you were so upset about, and to my surprise you admitted that between my depression in high school and the way I clung to Jon so quickly afterward, you felt you and I never really had the chance to bond like you had envisioned. I didn't understand what you meant at the time, but as the years passed I watched the relationship you had developed with Kristin while she was in high school and I finally got it. You and I didn't talk about boys, or dresses, or the caddy girls at school. No, you and I screamed, and we cried, and we worried until our chests felt like they were about to explode over whether or not I was going to make it through not only another day of school but another day of life. I was a train wreck for a solid 4 years and you were the frantic family member glued to the ongoing live coverage, hoping for a sign that I was alright. You saw me hit rock bottom every morning, and every morning you helped pull me back out. Only a mother's deepest love would have done that for me, and someday I'll find a way to thank you properly.

As for the mother and daughter bonding, though it may not have seemed like it at the time, through all of the crying and yelling and weepy teenage metaphors of those hectic years, you were able to see a part of me that no one else had seen before.

You once told me what you thought my visits with the psychiatrist were like--you said you always pictured me lying on a couch, confessing my fears and deepest, darkest secrets to the doctor sitting across from me, purging all of my negativity so I could walk out of the office with a smile and renewed sense of worth.

No offense, but I thought your idea of therapy was funny.

The truth is I faked a smile with the psychiatrists and therapists for every single one of those 1 hour sessions. I put on a fake smile before I walked in the door and I removed it the moment we got back in the car. And as for what we talked about, well, we talked about the good things and only the good things, because after all, I wanted to be likeable not crazy.

In the end, what the psychiatrists and therapists and all those other head doctors got from me were lies, but what I gave you every morning was real, it was me, albeit a little harsh at times, but it was me spilling my guts to you, reaching out to the only person I felt would really, truly listen to me. That was bonding, Mom, those heavy, emotional moments are ours and only ours to keep.

I think what neither of us had realized at the time is that I was an extremely complex, quiet, yet dynamic young woman who was trying to come to terms with her complexity and uniqueness when everyone else appeared so normal. You guided me through the toughest years of my life, and I'm here, and I'm doing just fine. I think that says everything there is to say about who you are as a parent--you're an amazing woman who did everything in her power to save me, and you did.

Here's to the woman I owe everything! Happy Mother's Day!

Love always,
Kate

I love you, Mom. Oh, and let's be sure to walk tomorrow, okay?

He's really gone, isn't he?

2010-08-30T21:23:00.003-04:00

I woke shortly after 4 AM this morning and thought, "We got the call right about now."

I watched the clock on my work computer turn from 9:44 AM to 9:45 AM and thought, "That's it guys. He's gone."

That was 2 months ago and while I would never expect to be fully healed after the loss of my brother, I do wonder how long it will be before the movie-like scenes stop playing in my head every time I think about him, when I'll be able to say the Our Father without choking up, or when will I be able to look at photos from that time without thinking, "This was taken 2 days before 'it' happened." I suppose I have to accept that "it" happened first, that "it" wasn't just a dark and depressing nightmare I had a short while ago. My brother died and it tears my heart out every time I remember.

I mentioned yesterday that Owen is finally sitting upright and I couldn't be more excited for him, but every time I set him up and brace for his fall I think of this photo we found while putting together photo boards for Rick's funeral. That's Rick bracing to catch ME if I fall. To make it all even a little more eerie, take note of the date on the photo: AUG '82. I was exactly the same age as Owen.

Life will never, ever be the same without him. I'm trying so hard to not let it overwhelm me. I'd rather spend the time and energy being thankful for having 28 years to know and love such a laid-back, non-judgemental, talented guy and AMAZING father. I've never seen kids who were more in love with their dad. He may not have left a big mark on the world per se, but he left a HUGE mark on so many hearts.

Thank you, Rick, for being such a great human being. Thank you for showing us that it's the little things in life that make it all worth living for.

Bonding

2010-08-29T22:02:00.003-04:00

My father in law was a saint and came by for a few hours to watch the baby while I ran errands and had lunch with a friend. Being attached at the hip to Owen at all times stopped bothering me a while ago, but I'd forgotten how easy it was to get around and do something as simple as grocery shopping without a baby in-tow. I am physically 25 pounds lighter without lugging him and his car seat around, and countless pounds lighter mentally when all I have to do is get from the produce, to the deli counter, to the laundry detergent without making goofy faces or talking nonsense in an attempt to keep him entertained. It's been 6 months but I am still terrified of becoming that poor--or "annoying" depending on how heartless you are--woman with the screaming, inconsolable child at the super market. I never realized just how much I worry about whether or not he's going to freak out until today and felt so comfortable that I took the the time to read nutrition labels again!

He doesn't know it yet, but Daddy is going to have a weekly date with Baby. Mama's going to the store by herself from now on.

Other happenings for the day were...a visit with Nana, watching Owen realize that if he holds on to the ball (instead of letting me throw it) he can capture the dog's undivided attention and he thought it was the absolute funniest thing to see a dog grovel. Owen has also officially mastered the art of sitting upright! He sat in the middle of our bed and watched Dora the Explorer while I folded laundry beside him.

So much has happened so fast and even in these first 2 days of Jon being away. It's been busy, but it's been so enjoyable. Owen is blossoming and I'm finally taking the time to appreciate it. I've struggled with the concept of being self, wife, and mother since the day Owen was born, and I'm still confused by how it's supposed to work (and I'm in awe of all you women who can divide yourself between multiple children, husband, and work full-time!) but it has been an awesome weekend in which I could focus solely on being MOM and bask in the fact that my son enjoys ME equally as much.

The first 6 months of status updates

2010-08-28T22:09:00.003-04:00

Seeing as it may take a few years before I could find the time to write about all the little details of Owen's first 6 months, and because there's a pretty good chance I will have forgotten at least 50% of the little details by then, I've decided to do the next best thing: bring all of my Owen/Parenting related Facebook updates to one place. I wasn't sure how well it was going to work, but as it turns out, it's a fairly accurate, abbreviated version of what our new life is like.

Please note: I put forth a tremendous amount of energy both on this blog and Facebook to avoid being a Negative Nancy. You are getting mostly just the positive side of the story here. I didn't think it was necessary that our friends and family know just how often I buried my face in a pillow and cried about how badly my life sucked or how many times I asked Jon for a divorce. On the bright side, I've been given permission to blame it all on hormones.

February 22

Looks like today is finally THE day! Water is broken, contractions are rolling. Owen is defying statistics and arriving on his due date!

February 27

Thank you everyone for the congrats and well wishes on our new little addition. The 3 of us are adjusting quite well to life at home, but I'm finding little time to play on Facebook! :)

February 28

Thanks for all the birthday wishes everyone!! I got the biggest and best birthday gift of all this year in Owen! :)

March 2

is leaving Jon home with the baby and heading out into the world by myself for the first time in over a week. First thought: "Man, it feels strange to be able to zip up my coat!"

March 6

put the baby down for his morning nap and attempted to take a shower, but no sooner did I get a lather in my hair when Macy begins howling from the side of the crib as if to say, "Hey stupid woman, you left the little human ALONE! What kind of mother are you?!"

March 6

Have you seen that Huggies commercial where the dad takes off his baby boy's diaper and he starts hosing down the entire room? Yeah, Owen's trying to give that little boy a run for his money today. My own clothes have become a casualty...

March 9

On the bright side...Owen is official and now has a social security number. On the not so bright side...the house, dog, and all other habitants stink of skunk. :(

March 10

So...as a breastfeeding mom, how many weeks should I plan on having my butt attached to the couch?

March 15

Forgot to study up on lullabys before having a baby. I guess it's a good thing I was able to sing Owen to sleep with Billy Liar! :D

March 18

2 night hospital stay after giving birth: $1500. Large box of Pampers Newborn diapers: $40. Discovering you have the nurturing touch to rock a crying and confused baby back to sleep at 3 in the morning: Priceless.

March 25

Who's the boss? "I am the boss!" I didn't doubt it for a second.

March 27

Owen's going for a new record: 3:30AM and he's STILL fighting sleep. As it stands, there's a pretty good chance he's going to be an only child.

March 28

The hubby and baby are over at Nana's and mommy stayed home for some 'me' time. All that crying the neighbors have been enduring has suddenly turned into a 28 year old woman belting out Ani DiFranco lyrics.

March 30

Help! I think something is terribly wrong with my child--he's sleeping AT NIGHT!!

April 5

"Peace out." Headed out for a late night ride with Daddy.

April 5

was given permission to use a mostly secluded, empty cubicle to use the breast pump in, but thought it wise to wear my shaw just in case. Good thing, because I heard someone ask another someone on the other side of the wall, "Who's over there wearing a cape?!" :-D

April 8

wants to be at home listening to the baby coo...

April 10

About to chop off the pregnancy hair...Deep breaths...you can do this.

April 10

Figures. I finally get the baby down at a reasonable hour and the hubby passes out too! I didn't realize having a baby would turn us into a couple of old fogies. ;)

April 19

Random thought #752: I wonder who has made more money off of me since Owen was born...Akron General or The Energizer Bunny?

April 22

2 months ago today I called off work by saying, "I'm not in labor, but I can't focus on work with these contractions..." Owen was born 12 hours later. :)

April 22

Forget natural childbirth...pinning a baby's arms and watching his face go from smiles to screams while he gets stuck with a needle in each thigh is the new hardest thing I've ever done! :(

April 28

I bought 504 diapers and 44 lbs of dog food on my lunch hour.

April 29

One of the best things about having a baby around is that everyone gets congratulated for an impressive burp!

April 30

OK Medela, I've officially handed over this week's entire paycheck in the hopes of being able to read a book, type a paragraph--continue living my life sans electrical outlet--while using your product. Please don't let me down.

May 2

Owen has been asleep for 10 hours straight. I keep going in there and checking on him and he's fine. If only we had the money to tire him out at Wasabi every night! :)

May 3

I just dropped the baby off at the sitter's for the first time. That was a lot harder than I thought it would be...

May 3

Thanks to Medela's Freestyle I just read 2 and a half of Dooce's blogs and updated my FB status from the filing (pumping) closet at work! I might be able to update my own blog before you know it!!!

May 4

Really hoping Owen gives his new sitter an easier time today. Turns out he was a terror yesterday!

May 5

3 days of packing up baby and delivering to sitter and still arriving to work on time, 4 nights of home cooked meals, 3 consecutive evenings of walking the dogs, and the kitchen is clean!! I think we might be on our way to becoming a functional little family again.

May 6

Jon's first day of taking care of the baby all by himself. I'm not sure who I should be more afraid for...Jon or Owen! ;)

May 10

I don't know that I've ever been so exhausted.

May 12

Only one thing in my life has remained consistent since Feb. 2nd: I fall asleep during the last 15 minutes of EVERY episode of Lost!

May 14

What does it say about me as a parent when the only thing besides me that can hold my 3 month old's attention is his bouncer and ESPN?

May 24

Woke up late, no hot water, spider dangling from shower ceiling, baby didn't want to eat--just talk, got everything and everyone loaded into the car just to notice a flat tire, and then the air compressor broke mid-fill. Hello there, Monday, I hate you too!

May 29

Getting ready for a wedding while keeping a baby happy is not fun.

May 31

Owen seemed to enjoy his first camping trip and it was really awesome for Jon and I to get out of the house

June 2
Owen's old record for sleeping in his crib: 1.5 hours. Owen's new record for sleeping in his crib: ALL NIGHT! I'm not packing up the swing yet but my little boy has done made me a proud mama. :)

June 3

I don't care what anyone says...walking in 3 inch heels AND carrying a baby in carseat is an acquired skill.

June 7

Just got a weekly newsletter from the hospital regarding childcare in the baby's third month and it opens with: "3 Good Reasons to Start Pumping Now!" They must not have gotten the memo that I was only off work for 6 weeks! I've been locking myself in a file room on every break for 2 months already. :p

June 13

Took Owen for his first swim at Nana's today! Clearly we have a water baby on our hands. He LOVED it!

June 16

Should have known he'd wait for a morning I was on my own to wake up early, poop all over EVERYTHING, be hungry enough to eat a horse, throw up on me TWICE, and still be so cute that I couldn't help but spend so much time talking to him that I was late for work.

June 20

had a fun day hanging out with Brooke and baby Savannah! It's only been 4 months since she and Owen were born but it's so amazing how much they've changed. Savannah was such a good little hostess, too! She offered her toes to Owen every chance she got. :)

June 22

I'm pretty sure the fact that Owen is sleeping with a party of 17 seated next to us is proof he can sleep through anything!

June 22

Somebody woke up and ate all my pizza.

June 26

Finally taking advantage of the fact that I'm never alone by going out to lunch with Owen then hitting the towpath with him and the jogging stroller.

July 2

A little bit of sunshine amidst all this gloom: One year ago today Jon and I learned we would be having a baby! I don't know how I'd be making it through this loss without my two men.

July 11

Why didn't anyone tell me that looking into a sick baby's eyes can capture and break your heart in 2 seconds flat?!

July 22

Word of advice: Do not veer from the MapQuest directions at 11:00 at night and it's raining and the baby is asleep in the backseat and your gas light turned on about a mile ago. A 29 minute drive can easily become 69 minutes...

July 24

Baby Einstein rocks!

July 26

is thinking of starting a "Help Katie Become a Stay at Home Mommy" fundraiser. Anyone want to donate??

July 30

29 miles left to South Bend and Owen has rocked this 4.5 hour roadtrip! The best part is he only napped 30 min so we may get some sleep tonight after all.

August 6

Looking forward to spending the weekend with Owen and having absolutely nowhere we have to be!

August 6

Dilemma: Dead batteries in swing (read: the only way the baby sleeps!) and battery drawer was empty. Solution: Held the mobile at gun point (okay, maybe it was a screwdriver) and emptied it of D-cells. I've gotten feisty in my 5.5 months as a mom!

August 10

Feet up on dashboard: We know he got at least 1 habit from mama!

August 10

Can we have carrots for dinner?? Please!!

August 13

It would figure Owen chooses to roll over for the first time when Aunt Kristin is watching him. She'll probably witness his first steps and hear his first words too! :(

August 14

Saturday night, the baby is asleep, and the hubby and I are sitting around quizzing each other with the iCarly trivia questions on individually wrapped pieces of Frigo string cheese. We are awesome.

August 16

A little advice for all the new moms and dads and parents-to-be: Don't wake a sleeping baby. Do take a few moments every day to watch and admire the most precious little person in your life while he sleeps peacefully.

August 25

WARNING: Your baby may begin singing himself to sleep at 6 months. Be prepared for the most adorable sound you have ever heard.

You are my sunshine

2010-08-28T20:16:00.000-04:00

On our way home from the birthday party I stopped to fill up my tank, and as I was standing at the gas pump I looked in at Owen, and caught him staring back at me with these soft, glossy, I'm-so-tired-you're-the-most-wonderful-thing-I've-ever-seen eyes. I tried to take my time to analyze the look and find the words to describe the emotions that were welling up inside me and then I finally got it: For the first time I genuinely and completely understood the song You Are My Sunshine. My world would be so dark without him and that precious face.

Have you seen this daddy?

2010-08-28T10:34:00.003-04:00

Right about now my husband is flying 38,000 feet above Alexandria, Louisiana and my first week of playing a single mom has officially begun. That's right. It's that time of year again. The one that used to be filled with chick flicks, dinner with friends, and gobs and gobs of personal time and will now consist of Baby Einstein, pureed carrots at the dinner table, and gobs and gobs of Owen time. Jon has left for the 2010 conference, and due to a recent promotion, he'll be gone a little longer.

I'm probably getting ahead of myself, and will have to smack myself later in the week for saying this, but I'm not really worried about whether or not I can handle the responsibility of soul parent. I knew this was coming and had plenty of time to prepare and that preparation involved removing any dependencies Owen may have on Jon. I had to make Owen dependent on me for comfort and food. I am the first person he sees in the morning and the last he sees before falling asleep. Jon sort of became this big, funny toy that did a LOT of housework. I don't know if that was the right way to prepare or not. I guess we'll see.

One thing I do suspect--and don't tell my husband I said this--I will be much more productive without him here, mostly because I have to be, but partly because his laid-back, things-will-take-care-of-themselves-sometime-this-century attitude is a little contagious!

Anyway, on the agenda for today is my nephew's 3rd birthday party for which an awesome gift has already been purchased, wrapped, and tagged with a bow. After that, perhaps some housework, but definitely some one-on-one chill time with my baby boy.

Week 1 Day 1: FAIL

2010-08-16T22:25:00.000-04:00

Dear Self,

Don't beat yourself up. Some people just aren't meant to be runners.

Love,
Your sore ankles.

Right Where We Belong

2010-08-05T22:35:00.000-04:00

Last weekend Jon and I packed up the car and prepared Owen for a 4.5 hour road trip to South Bend, Indiana where 3 really awesome things happened:

1. Owen crossed his first state line, something it took me 11 years to accomplish!

2. My Uncle Charlie married his college sweetheart on the St. Mary's at Notre Dame campus. It was my first wedding reception with a real live band! Something I thought only happened in movies!

3. I toured the the campus of The University of Notre Dame with 2 of my siblings and found this Cancer Awareness Tree:

Each color ribbon represented a different type of cancer for anyone's loved ones who have either survived or lost their battle with cancer.

Even the pathway leading to and from the tree was in the shape of a ribbon.

My sister Kimberly and her daughter Elizabeth tied a ribbon for our brother Rick who died of leukemia on June 30, 2010.

There were so many ribbons...

Rick's white ribbon, front and center.

We came across the tree just in time, because as Kim finished tying the ribbon another small group of people walked up to the tree, noted there were no more white ribbons out loud and slumped their shoulders. Kim then looked at them apologetically and said, "I'm sorry. We just took the last white ribbon. It was for our brother."

Then she walked away without looking back.

Something about the way she said it and the way she held herself--shoulders back and head high--assured me that we were all going to make it through this. At that moment I was convinced that one day, in the not so distant future, hearing his name or remembering the sound of his voice isn't going to cause a stabbing pain in our chests but spread a loving warmth from our hearts to our finger tips.

Outted

2010-07-25T11:59:00.003-04:00

When I called my mom last Sunday...wait, has anyone else noticed that I've acquired this annoying knack for writing about things exactly one week after they happen? I was thinking about it this morning as I started writing this blog in my head. As a result I've decided one week must be how long it takes me to formulate a string of coherent thoughts between working full-time and tending to an infant's every need. Speaking of said infant...did you know he's already 5 MONTHS OLD? Probably not, considering I've written about him all of, what, 3 times? Maybe 4? I really need to figure out a way to rectify that.

But I digress.

Anyway, so I called my mom last Sunday evening to see if she wanted to take a quick walk with me during our lunch hour on Monday. She works in the clinic 2 buildings over from my office, and I thought it would be an easy way to spend more time with her, and get some exercise to boot. When she answered the phone she sounded really upset, and considering there's really only one reason most of us cry right now I knew it had to be about my brother. We're all grieving in our own way, mostly in private I think, but it's important that it happens whatever the circumstances. I don't want to speak for everyone, but I think losing him has been the hardest thing we've ever had to endure, so I'm pretty sure it's going to be a very, very long time before thinking of him and realizing we'll never see him again doesn't feel like a swift kick to the gut.

I was right, my mom had been crying about Rick, but it was a little more than that:

"What's wrong, Mom?"

"I just finished reading your blog..."

"Oh."

I hadn't seen THAT coming, but I guess that's a risk you run every time you post something on the internet, huh? Turns out my dad Googled my brother's name and stumbled upon Deciphering Kate--my secret little universe that I wasn't trying to hide, but haven't exactly been advertising either.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not disappointed in the slightest to have been found. I'm actually excited and relieved. The word has spread to distant family members by word of mouth and random strangers as my siblings post about it on Facebook. Feedback has been pouring in and it's all been positive. I've seen a record number of hits in all of my 10+ years of writing online, but that's besides the point. When I wrote about Rick I was doing what I felt I needed to do in order to properly grieve for MY loss, but a very big part of me was worried that if someone did find it they could see it as being selfish since it was all written from my perspective. I don't come from a selfish family--the exact opposite, actually--but I was afraid of how it could be perceived, especially since no one knew I had a blog and some didn't even know about my interest in writing.

It appears my fears were for naught, though. Based on the feedback I've received, I think I've helped many friends and family members with their own loss as well. I think I managed to put things into perspective for more than just me. I found the words they couldn't to harness and archive the emotions they were feeling. I helped release the tears that had been stuck since that very dark last day of June. I helped people understand what it felt like to be there and a little of what Rick went through even though they were miles away.

While I'm embarrassed and feel bad that my father had to stumble across such a tearjerker without the tiniest of warnings, I'm glad it happened one way or another. It hurts us all to read it, but I like to think it helps, too.

So.....welcome friends, FAMILY, and friendly people who searched "Richard Crano" or followed a strange link here. Welcome to my little world.

And then I felt a sharp pain in my chest

2010-07-12T21:44:00.006-04:00

Katie: "Elizabeth, you have to be nice to people if you want them to be your friend."

Elizabeth, my 4-year-old niece: "He's not my friend! He's my brother!"

Katie: "Well, I'm friends with my brother."

Elizabeth: "I didn't know you had a brother!!"

Katie: "I do! I have..."

Three brothers? Two brothers? Three brothers but one died last week? It seems cruel to not count him, but it kind of feels like lying when I do.

Fortunately, a dragon fly whizzed by Elizabeth's head at that exact moment and she completely forgot about our conversation.

Unfortunately, I can't.

A Campfire in his honor

2010-07-09T13:23:00.006-04:00

I'll be leaving for southern Ohio around 3:00 this afternoon for a weekend camping trip. I'll be with my family although they will be staying there through next Friday and I'll be home by the end of the weekend. This is the camping trip Rick had been looking forward to, the one he kept referring to when he'd say, "I just want to sit around the campfire with my kids."

I wasn't originally supposed to be going. In fact, Owen and I will be taking Rick's place. I hate saying that but it's for a good cause. Tonight's campfire will be dedicated to Rick. We'll toast him with his favorite drink--a rum and coke--and we'll all share our fond memories of growing up with the wildest, most daring boy in our family, and how we watched him become the reserved family man we've known for the last decade.

Rick was not an emotional person. He shook his head and smirked at overly sappy, sentimentality (unless his wife and daughter were involved) and I like to picture him looking down on us from heaven and giving us that same head-shake and smirk whenever one of us breaks down in tears at the loss of our brother. That's why I think he would love this dedication campfire. I'm imagining him looking down from heaven and saying, "Now that's what I'm talking about!"

It will be a night dedicated to one hell of a brother and there's no doubt he will be there with us sitting around the fire. He won't be there in the way we all had hoped, but he will definitely be there.

Rick was also an avid Pittsburgh Steelers fan and I think you have to live in Northeastern Ohio and love football to understand the old rivalry between the Cleveland Browns and Pittsburgh Steelers, so I expect it will have a big, surprising effect when Jon (a huge Browns fan), Owen and I all show up to the campfire sporting Steelers t-shirts. We'll be rooting for Pittsburgh this year.

Ricky

2010-07-07T23:48:00.012-04:00

A few years ago I was asked a very simple, yet seemingly complex question by a woman who had just learned that I came from a family of six children: "What would you say is the biggest benefit of having such a large family?" The answer came to me quickly. I said, "You get to learn from everyone else's mistakes."

But last week I discovered a new advantage to coming from a family of six children: there are five remaining children to help carry each other through the all-consuming pain and sorrow when one of us dies.

My brother, Rick, passed away due to complications from leukemia on June 30, 2010. He was only 34-years-old. He had a wife and two adorable children; an 11-year-old daughter and a 4-year-old son.

You may remember me mentioning a brother who was diagnosed with testicular cancer last year. It was him. He managed to pull through the surgeries and multiple chemo treatments and remain in remission until this past May when it was discovered that he had acute promyelocytic leukemia. We were told he would be facing another six months of rigorous chemotherapy and two years worth of maintenance, but on the bright side, this particular form of leukemia carried a promising 90% cure rate. We thought he had lucked out again. Our large family remained invincible.

He started the new batch of treatments in early June. When I saw him at my nephew's graduation party on June 12 he said he was feeling a little tired but overall he looked really good. He was taken to the hospital on June 17 after complaining of chest pains and they discovered there was water accumulating in his heart which I'm told is relatively common for patients receiving chemotherapy. He also had to receive multiple blood transfusions while there as the doctors were having trouble keeping his white blood cells in check. I did not visit him while he was there from June 17 through June 25. The little I knew about what was going on had been posted on Facebook or sent to me through text messages by my sisters and it was mostly telling me not to panic, what he was experiencing was normal, he was more anxious than anything because he wanted to be out of the hospital in time to go on the family camping trip July 9 and sit around the campfire. I'm told he wanted out of that hospital something fierce and was prepared to escape on his own if they hadn't signed the discharge papers when they did.

Sunday, June 27, 2010 was the last day I saw my big brother conscious. I'll never forget it because I honestly believe it was an act of God that made it happen. I haven't attended church since long before Owen was born and never really felt the calling to do so until that morning. I woke up thinking I should call my mother and ask her to save me a seat, so I did. I was determined to come straight home afterward though as I had a lot of things I needed to get done. So determined, in fact, that I purposely left behind extra bottles and changes of clothes for Owen so I would have no choice but to return home. Mass was lovely, Owen behaved wonderfully, and when my mom asked if I wanted to come over as we were walking to our cars I didn't hesitate to answer, "Of course!" I figured Owen and I would make due without the extras somehow.

When I got there my dad and Rick were seated in the living room watching an old episode of NCIS. Rick had been staying with my parents since he was released from the hospital because he had trouble sleeping at home. I think it was also because he enjoyed our father's company and found it comforting to have our mother taking care of him. We exchanged "Hi, how are you?"s and he smiled and said hello to Owen. He said he was feeling okay, but he looked off to me. He was pale and sweaty. He was jittery and anxious but I was told these were side effects to one of the prescriptions he was taking. I could tell he was uncomfortable but he was doing his best to ignore it. My brother was a sweet but tough guy.

While I'm convinced I will remember that day forever, the one memory that will always stand out to me is when our mom offered to make Rick a grilled cheese sandwich. She apologized that all she had left was rye bread but he didn't mind. She offered to make one for me but quickly realized there wasn't enough bread to make two sandwiches. I told her not worry about it, but when she brought Rick's sandwich out to him he said, "Katie, do you want half of my sandwich? I know I won't be able to eat the whole thing and I'd hate to see it go to waste if you'll eat it." And just like that, my brother shared one of his last meals with me.

My parents set out to take Rick back home a few hours later and I followed suit.

I got the call at 7:45 the next morning. It was my older sister leaving a message that I still can't bring myself to erase: "Hey Katie, it's Kim. Um, Mom just called me, she wanted me to call everybody and let them know Rick's at Mercy. He's in ICU. He has pneumonia. She said he's not doing very well, but she wanted me to call everybody and let them know. So, um, give me a call if you have any questions. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

I was at work for exactly one hour and a good chunk of that time was spent on the phone with my sister, me crying and asking as many questions as I could, and her doing the best she could to remain calm. She told me everyone else was already en route to the hospital and that's when I knew it was really, really bad and I had to go, too.

By the time I got there Rick was already intubated and heavily sedated. My parents had brought him in around 2:00 that morning after he'd vomited blood and began having trouble breathing. The doctors began by giving him oxygen treatments and when he was still struggling to breathe they requested permission to put him on a ventilator. I'm told he initially refused. He told my parents he was done, he couldn't do it anymore. He told my parents, in not so many words, he was giving up the fight to breathe and he'd rather die than be put on the ventilator. My dear, sweet, brave mother, held herself together long enough to convince her son to keep fighting. He let them sedate and intubate him.

The next 48 hours were spent mostly in the waiting room; sharing memories, playing cards, talking about food, or at Rick's bedside, giving him whatever encouragement we had to keep fighting for his life. We were all hoping for the best and only slightly bracing for the worst. The news kept getting worse. Rick had a staph infection as well as pneumonia, but he was hanging in there. He seemed to do the worst at night. His numbers would drop significantly between the hours of 2 and 4am but they always came back in the morning, only slightly lower than they had been the previous morning.

The call I had been dreading came at 4:17 Wednesday morning. Rick's blood pressure was dropping and it was advised that we all come in. By 6:00 AM his wife, our parents, two remaining brothers, two sisters, and I were all standing at his bedside, torn between telling him to keep fighting or letting him go but there really wasn't a choice. His blood pressure was so dangerously low that there was no coming back from here. We were told it was only a matter of hours. Eventually the lack of blood would cause his organs to shutdown and his heart would be the last to go.

I told him it was okay. I told him I would help look after his family. I thanked him for the wonderful memories and told him he didn't have to suffer through this anymore.

At 9:30 AM his wife was seated right beside him, holding his hand. The rest of us were intertwined in one way or another; my father's arm around my mother's shoulders, my head against my father's back, my hand in my little sister's, her hand in my older sister's, my oldest brother with one arm across my shoulders, the other hanging on to the last brother. This is how we watched Rick go. This is how we counted down his heartbeats from 78 to 0. It was the most tragically beautiful 78 seconds of my life. I was half way through the Our Father when his heart rate flat-lined and my father announced, "That's it guys. He's gone." And despite the fact that we spent the morning telling Rick it was okay to let go, I think we all regretted it in that moment. We wanted him back more than anything else in the world.

They removed the ventilator my mother begged him to have put in. Turns out it couldn't save his life but it did give us all a chance to say goodbye. He may not have been conscious but I'm pretty sure he heard us.

Time of death was 9:45 AM. At that time a woman lost her husband, a little girl and little boy lost their father, a man lost his son and his best friend, a woman lost her 3rd born child, and the rest of us lost one of our own--a sibling--one of 3 boys and 3 girls. Our balance will be off forever.

In Loving Memory
Richard P. "Rick" Crano
September 22, 1975 - June 30, 2010

From his memorial card:

God saw that you were getting tired
And cure was not to be:
So He put His arms around you
and whispered, "Come home with me."
With tearful eyes we watched you suffer,
And saw you fade away:
Although we loved you dearly,
We could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating.
A determined spirit was at rest:
God broke our hearts to prove to us,
He only takes the best.

Bare With Me

2010-03-10T21:18:00.004-05:00

If I've learned only one thing in the last 2 and a half weeks it's that NOTHING can prepare you for what it's like to live with a newborn. The prime example being that I typed that first sentence HOURS ago but as soon as I punched the period key a certain newborn began wailing because he had a messy diaper and once that was rectified he needed fed and comforted for the 1000th time tonight. I love Owen more than I can find the words for but it's been a big learning curve for Jon and I to finally see what it's like to give of ourselves unconditionally. Our lives are not our own anymore, and we knew that going in, but I--and I'm ashamed to admit this--didn't quite realize how much that would effect my psyche.

Sometimes I feel like it has been constant chaos from the moment we brought him home, but I know that's just me remembering only the bad moments, like that first night when the inability to sleep in the hospital finally caught up with me, and my 2 day adrenaline rush crashed just as the baby decided it was time to start acting like he would never sleep again. My poor mother-in-law received a pleading call at 4 o'clock in the morning from my panicked husband who had not only been dealing with a screaming infant but a sobbing wife for the entire night. I like to think that was the worst night yet, and even if it was, there have been some very close seconds. We are learning though, me especially, and fortunately I'm feeling better. I'm still really tired, but I'm feeling better.

During my pregnancy I envisioned my 6 week maternity leave to be filled with many, many awesome blog posts about my transition into motherhood but considering I'm having trouble finding the time to pay bills, do laundry, or you know, SLEEP, I don't know how much blogging I can really expect to accomplish. I am at the mercy of a newborn's schedule and I have to say he's taken after his mama in that he is not very merciful...not when it comes to something he wants.

Introducing...

2010-03-01T21:18:00.008-05:00

Owen Michael Keenan

Born exactly one week ago today on Monday, February 22, 2010 at 9:05PM which just so happened to be his due date. He was 7 pounds 7 ounces, 20 inches long, and the most adorable thing I have ever seen.

The actual labor story (a very long story) is yet to come--somewhere between 4AM feedings and the dozens of poopy diapers--but I wanted to be sure to at least let everyone know he has FINALLY arrived and that we're all doing just fine--although I might say differently during one of those 4AM feedings.

So, Yeah...

2010-02-17T18:52:00.006-05:00

Did I say I was heading into the OBGYN office with no expectations and a level head today? I'm pretty sure I lied. Although the new word is 4 centimeters. Contractions are becoming slightly stronger and the pelvic pressure is insane. I'm praying I don't have to go another 2 weeks like this.

I look and feel like an ape when I walk.

A Few Points to Note

2010-02-16T19:30:00.005-05:00

1) No, the gingerbread cake that was supposed to send me into labor on Sunday night did not work, although I probably should have asked just how much I was supposed to eat for the best results. I stopped at 2 slices once I noticed it was 390 calories per serving, but perhaps I was supposed to go all gung-ho and eat the whole thing?

2) The 24 urine test is complete, and has been since Monday morning, but for some reason I still feel like I'm cheating when I actually pee into a toilet bowl! I was so determined to not have to take the stupid test again that my entire Valentine's Day was spent concentrating on the test and not spilling ANYTHING. Every drop was precious. I think it's safe to say I went a little overboard. On the bright side, my urine tested negative for protein and my blood pressure is back down to where it's supposed to be, meaning this particular preeclampsia scare is over!

3) Jon and I went on a tour of the maternity wing of the hospital last night. I thought it would put my mind a little more at ease to know exactly where to go, what type of room I'll be in during and after delivery, and meet a few members of the staff who would be taking care of us. I do think it was beneficial, although I didn't realize I was, oh, 6 months behind the curve and the only woman out of 5 going on the tour who was even remotely close to her due date...let alone a week away! I was the only one who waddled. I was the only one fighting through contractions, however small. I was the only who had to worry about her water breaking in the hallway. It was kind of amusing. As silly and slow as I felt, and even though Jon and I have made enough late night trips to the OB Triage that we already knew where to go, I'm still glad we took the tour. It gave me the opportunity to create a clear picture of what my birthing experience will be like and what mine and the baby's surroundings will be for the few days afterward.

4) My next appointment with the midwife is tomorrow afternoon at which time I'll be checked for further dilation and progress. I'm playing it safe this time and reminding myself that many, many women go a week or more overdue and I can't let myself get upset if I'm still sitting steady at 3 centimeters. It's hard to find a comfortable position nowadays. I'm barely sleeping. My everything hurts and I want nothing more than to see my baby and spend hours deciding who he looks more like, but what I need to remember is it will all happen when it's time to happen and our whole experience will be that much better if we calmly let nature take its course. I think I can do that, but I'm not making any guarantees.

Valentine Schmalentine

2010-02-14T08:49:00.003-05:00

Jon: "What do you want to do for Valentine's Day?"

Me: "The same thing we do every year: order Chinese take-out and spend a quiet evening at home."

Jon: "You don't want to exchange gifts?"

Me: "No. You know I don't care about Valentine's Day."

Jon: "I know, but when I explain how you feel to the guys at work they all say you're talking in code and you're really asking me for diamonds."

Baby Steps

2010-02-13T16:27:00.012-05:00

I'm beginning to think that one of the best perks to having girlfriends is having people to gently push you in the right direction, even if it means pushing you to face something you may be afraid of facing. My best friend, my husband, has a much more fierce, in your face, there's no time for crying! approach to getting me to come out of my safe cocoon, and while I give him kudos for doing what he has to do to get through to me, it also makes me appreciate the more subtle approach my girlfriends have been taking lately. For the last week, my friends have been very calmly but seemingly systematically reminding me that this blog of mine hasn't been updated for over a month! Their sweet, encouraging voices were repeatedly telling me they wanted to hear about my life, my pregnancy, and the crazy things I've been keeping bottled up inside my head. I could be wrong, but I also kind of got the impression that their sweet, encouraging voices were also saying I might go straight to hell if I didn't update soon, and I thought it best not to disappoint this particular group of women.

So what have I been up to while blatantly ignoring my blog? Well, I'm 9 months pregnant, official due date in t-minus 9 days, and because of many factors--my sheer size being one of them--it's kind of hard to think about anything else. This precious little life growing inside of me is getting closer and closer to being on the outside and I've been hell bent on making sure my husband and I are prepared for it, or at least as much as we can be. I'm not naive enough to think one could ever be so prepared that they could endure the amount of sleepless nights we probably have in our near future but we can at least make sure that we start off with all of the necessary baby supplies, good spirits, and a large amount of comfort food stocked in our cupboards.

My discomfort in this last month of pregnancy has been great, but fortunately, my excitement and anticipation in meeting the new little man in my life has been greater. The not knowing when he's coming has been the hardest part of all. I'm the type of person who lives by schedules and to-do lists and this baby has already shown us that his pending arrival is sure to break me of that habit. I like to think that he believes he's setting me free from my schedules and to-do lists and teaching me how to live spontaneously, but I'm probably just crazy.

I graduated to weekly appointments with my midwife on February 1st and I think it surprised us both to find that I was already dilated to 3 centimeters and 55% effaced at 37 weeks. I went in there expecting no change and received the fantastic surprise that my baby could be arriving early. But despite the fact that I just wrote "could be arriving early" I left the office that afternoon thinking he would definitely be arriving early, like--you know--that night, and I didn't have to wait another grueling 22 days to become a mommy! I know now that the past 2 weeks of my life would have been much more calm and relaxed had there been no change and I'd just kept on thinking there was no way this kid was coming before February 22nd. Let me just say that Jon and I have spent far too many hours since then counting possible contractions only to find the time had been wasted because they stopped after an hour each time. Braxton Hicks will probably be the death of me.

My last appointment was on Thursday, and I was so sure I would be dilated far enough for them to send me straight to the hospital that I had Jon install the car seat and toss my bags into the back of his SUV the night before. Obviously, the clothes in my bag are now quite chilly for no reason because that's not exactly how the appointment went. What actually happened was my blood pressure suddenly decided to reach an all time high of 140 and sent everyone in the office into a panic. Suddenly the swelling I've been experiencing in my hands, feet, and ankles didn't appear so innocent and, even though they've yet to find protein in my urine, my midwife became very concerned about preeclampsia. The appointment from that point on is a blur as they rushed to get me out of there fast enough to make it to the lab for more tests. As if the threat of preeclampsia wasn't bad enough, I was also given the news that I had made absolutely no progress and was still dilated to 3 centimeters. The only good news was the baby is measuring at 40 weeks so even if the tests come back positive I can be induced without worrying if he's ready. For now, I'm on house arrest tomorrow since I have to do a 24 hour urine collection starting tomorrow morning and ending Monday morning at which point I will be walking into the lab with a large, orange jug full of pee and they will once again stick me with needles and take more blood. Pregnancy sure is glamorous, eh?

I was livid when I left the OBGYN office on Thursday, mostly because things hadn't gone according to my plan, but also because everyone was in such a hurry to get me to the lab before it closed that Jon and I didn't have much time to ask questions for reassurance. I needed to be told everything was going to be okay, but after a few phone calls, I felt better about the whole visit. Although I must admit, I'm still none too happy about this peeing in a jug thing.

So, in a nutshell, what you've missed in the last month while I was busy pretending this blog didn't exist was actually what it looks like when a woman who is crazy in love with pregnancy finally reaches the end of her rope and wants her baby in her arms already. I'm not good at relinquishing control and it feels kind of silly to only now realize that that's exactly what I have to do while I wait, however impatiently, for my son to be born.

An Imaginary Conversation With My (Hopefully) Soon-to-Be-Born Son

2010-02-12T23:40:00.004-05:00

Me: "So...I've discovered this foot hanging out near my rib cage, and I noticed that if I poke it--like this--you start wiggling like a little worm!"

Baby: "Damn it, woman! I'm out of room in here and I have no where else to put that foot, so stop it!"

Me: "Why don't you come out then?"

Baby: "It's too cold out there. I'm waiting for Spring."

Let It Snow

2010-01-07T17:50:00.004-05:00

You know what the best thing about working closer to home is? I'm not afraid of snow anymore. The fact that a 15 minute jaunt becomes a half hour drive rather than an hour commute turns into a 2 hour commute would come in a very close second.

So, given the incredible amount of snow that has been dumped on us in the last 3 hours and the promise of many more inches, can I just say--one more time--that getting laid off back in June was one of the absolute best things to ever happen to me? Seriously, if they hadn't closed up shop, not only would I be working for a company that made me miserable AND paid me less, but I would also still be sitting in traffic for another hour from now? Losing my job wasn't tragic...it was a miracle!

Ringing in the New Year

2010-01-06T17:49:00.005-05:00

If I had to choose just one word to describe what the holidays were like in the Keenan household my word would be peaceful, and a peaceful holiday season was exactly what Jon and I were after when facing the reality that this would be our last Christmas and New Year celebration as simply Jon and Kate. I don't want that statement to be misconstrued at all, especially not if you think we're at all disappointed at the notion that this was our last holiday season as just the two of us. I think I speak for us both when I say that nothing is more exciting than the idea of having a new little person to celebrate with and that life--especially during the holidays--will be that much more exciting because of the addition. What I mean to say is, since we have met our final months as just husband and wife and soon take on the additional titles of father and mother, why not relish in it? Why not spend it doing exactly what we as a couple have gotten to enjoy so much in the near 11 years we've been together: enjoying each others company. So, we took a nice long nap together in the middle of Christmas Day, and we didn't throw a single party, although we attended many.

Now that the holidays are over my mind is centering more and more around the baby's arrival. It was almost as if the moment January 1st hit I realized we didn't even have a place for him to sleep. I remember that time, months ago, when I accused Jon of expecting the baby to sleep on a blanket in the corner because he didn't want to spend the money on the crib bedding I'd selected and here I was, a little over 2 months away from my due date, and the new bedding I fought so hard for was still tucked away neatly in plastic packaging. At least this setback was rectified Monday night when Jon put the crib together. At the very least, our baby has a place to sleep. But my mind is moving at 100 miles per hour making mental lists of the millions of things I've yet to do and the very little time I have to do it. I'm pretty sure this where I get to say...let the nesting begin.

Looking Forward

2009-12-29T18:49:00.004-05:00

I just finished reading four months of archives (November 2008 - March 2009) and I've come up empty handed on any 2009 New Year Resolutions. Turns out I didn't make any, or if I did, they were never written down. I have to say I was a little surprised at first, but when I started reading through those archives I realized I didn't really need to make any resolutions. In my mind I had already accomplished the inconceivable: I liked myself! And the only reason I ever made resolutions in the first place was to map out a way of coming to terms with who I was by the end of the next year, and hope beyond hope that I liked that person a little better than the person I was when I made the resolutions.

That being said, I couldn't have possibly prepared myself for the multiple speed bumps 2009 had in store for me. I had no way of knowing that I would lose my job, or that I would finally become pregnant, or that I would find a much better job with better people and better pay and a better commute just to live in fear of whether or not they would freak out when I finally admitted I was pregnant. I couldn't have known that I would fly in an airplane or see the lights of Las Vegas for the first time. I never would have guessed I'd come within 40 pounds of my goal weight...even if it was just in time to see it replaced by a 30 pound belly that kicks back whenever I poke it.

2009 has been quite a journey. It has included the highest ups and some the lowest downs of my life, but I wouldn't change it for the world.

I won't even pretend to know what I can do to better myself in 2010. I can't conceive how different life will be with a baby, but I do know one thing for sure: I want to be the best mommy I can be. I want to be the mother who is madly in love, attentive, interested, and active in her child's life. I can't promise to lose the baby weight, or start saving for college right away, or to keep the house immaculate at all times. All I can do is promise to do my best, and love this little miracle for all he's worth.

A Bad Kind of Validation

2009-12-20T18:55:00.005-05:00

Jon and I were out at a friend's Christmas party until late last night, and when I say late last night what I actually mean is 5 o'clock this morning, so you can imagine Jon's shock when he discovered me huddled in a chair in the baby's room and crying at 8am. Not only was I supposed to be sound asleep in our warm bed, getting more than 3 hours of rest, I definitely shouldn't have been hiding out in a nearly bare room where the only piece of furniture was the very chair I was curled up in. Understandably, Jon immediately thought something was wrong with the baby--Is he OK? Yes, he is fine. Are you OK? No, not really, but I think I will be.

I couldn't give him a better answer than that because I couldn't verbalize what was bothering me without crying harder and losing my words to gargantuan sobs. And looking back on it now I can see the melodramatic aspect and it embarrasses me, but then again, everything I do anymore is melodramatic so I should get used to it. What was happening to me was part sleep deprivation, part anxiety, and part recoil from feeling as though I'd been slapped in the face by a total stranger at the party last night. And again, it sounds really stupid and terribly dramatic when I say it, but the problem is I have to say it, or I'm afraid I'll never get over it. Plus, there's some psychoanalyzing to do here and I'm afraid my initial reaction will be to revert to my old hermit-like ways if I don't handle it right this moment.

So anyway, at this party last night, I was sitting in a crowded room where various conversations were happening all around me and I happened to notice one conversation in particular that was taking place between some guy I'd met maybe 3 hours earlier and another woman across the room. They were talking about nipple tassels and how she was so totally going to wear them to his Christmas party next year. And in typical guy fashion (though not usually when one's wife is sitting right in front of him, but whatever) he gets extremely excited and says she is definitely invited next year because she would be "a whole lotta fun", but immediately afterward he points to me and says, "But I don't know about her over there, she just seems too quiet." I wish I could convey the tone here so it didn't seem as though I was all up in arms about nothing, but in my mind, he told me, a total stranger and a tired, pregnant woman sitting in the dark corner, that she was too boring to come to his annual Raunchfest disguised as a Christmas party. I feel it was an absolutely insensitive comment given the circumstances, but I'm also (quite some time later) willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and accept that he was probably joking and more than a little drunk, mostly because my husband isn't usually in the habit of befriending assholes, but I really can't say for sure.

When I was finally able to turn the sporadic waterworks off and pull myself together for the day (around 5 this evening [more embarrassment]) I was still left with one question: why did I care? Why did it bother me that this guy, who is obviously my polar opposite, didn't want to invite me to the next topless party at his house? The truth was actually quite simple really, I didn't give a shit about the party. What bothered me was how he so blatantly, within hours of meeting me and in front of people I've known for years, validated a long lived fear of mine: I am boring. I am so fucking boring and introverted that I shouldn't be invited to any party, and even worse than that, he has now infiltrated my small circle of friends and it's only a matter of time before they stop kindly ignoring just how fucking boring I am.

It took nearly 20 hours of sulking, but I finally figured out that while it was his insensitive comment that started it all, it's my own hang up--my own fears--that have left me in a mess today. Now, if I could only figure out how to correct my boring personality without resorting to nipple tassels or flashing every camera that's pointed in my direction I may be able to get on with my life.

The Softer Side

2009-12-03T19:09:00.000-05:00

Lab Tech: "When are you due?"

Kate: "February."

Lab Tech: "Do you know what you're having?"

Kate: "Yes. It's a boy."

Lab Tech: "Oh, how sweet! You're carrying him very well!"

I'm not entirely sure what "carrying him very well" means, but I could have kissed her.

Creative Women Have Cobwebs in Their Corners

2009-12-01T17:37:00.005-05:00

The first day of December in the year two thousand and nine has found me...

Extremely large, extremely round, and extremely happy.

With a husband who seems genuinely pleased to go out of his way to make everything easier on me.

Madly in love with the tiny baby growing inside of me.

With two very excitable, lovable, and cancer-free dogs.

With my first day as an official, full-time employee since June 30, 2009.

With all of my Christmas gifts bought and wrapped.

With a nursery painted the sweetest of blue and ready for furniture.

Reading "Eat, Pray, Love" and thinking Elizabeth Gilbert and I couldn't be more different, yet so alike.

More content than I've been all year despite it being one of the most hectic months on the calendar.

Very poor financially, but somehow very rich in life.

Thanksgivings

2009-11-28T11:23:00.008-05:00

The last two weekends have found me in the same spot: on my living room couch watching re-runs of a show called "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" on The Learning Channel. Ignoring the fact that the last thing I should be doing during my own pregnancy is watching woman after woman giving birth to their babies on the cold, dingy floor of a fast food restaurant, this show has turned out to be one of those train wrecks that I can't look away from. And while the last 15 minutes of every episode has had me in tears, fearing for the life of a baby, I saw one episode last weekend that had me in tears, not just because the mother or baby could have died, but because that really could have been me.

This particular episode was about a women who was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) when she was 19 and she was told she would never be able to get pregnant. It was obviously hard for her to accept this diagnosis but her doctor was very firm in his decision and so she learned accept it. So, a few years later, when she started experiencing a lot of the common signs of pregnancy like weight gain, specific cravings, heartburn, and even movement in her abdomen she didn't think anything of it. Her and her husband even went so far as to jokingly refer to the movement in her abdomen (which she believed was just gas) as the alien in her belly. And when she began to experience excruciating pain in back she went to the hospital, but because her doctor said she would never be able to get pregnant they tested for everything but pregnancy and sent her home thinking she was simply constipated. Hence, the reason she ended up giving birth to her little girl in her master bathroom toilet.

Witnessing her story made me realize just how thankful I should be for my OB GYN who did not use the word "never" when she diagnosed me with PCOS. Instead, she told me it would be hard, it would take a lot of work and patience, I would have to lose weight and become a healthier person, but she put a lot of emphasis into the words "not impossible." It was not impossible for me to get pregnant, it was just going to take me a lot longer than most women.

The last 3 years would have been much more heart-wrenching, cold, and shocking had she told me it would never happen.

So, this passed Thanksgiving I had a lot to be thankful for: not just my family and friends, but the miracle that has been growing inside of me for the last 7 months and a very smart and dedicated obstetrician who put a lot of effort into telling me not to give up, that with the right resources and outlook I could reverse the side-effects of PCOS and my miracle could happen.

Things You Shouldn't Say to Your Pregnant Wife, Part 1

2009-11-24T19:36:00.002-05:00

Jon: "I need to take a night off from working in that room. I don't even want to set foot in there."

Kate: "I'm just going in there to pick up the tarps and clean up any paint you may have gotten on the floor."

Jon: "Really? You can do that?"

Kate: "What do you mean?"

Jon: "You can bend over?"

Kate: "Umm, yeah. Why wouldn't I be able to?"

Jon: "Well, you're kind of top heavy right now. You might fall over."

Didn't I Mention Psychotic Tendencies Before?

2009-11-19T19:29:00.005-05:00

Since last night's post was obscenely long-winded I'm going to make this one short and sweet:

Tonight I'm going to a midnight showing of New Moon. What? Did you just ask if I'm crazy? No doubt about it! Almost 7 months pregnant and I'm planning to be out until the wee hours of the morning and I still intend to show up to work bright and early? Yeah, something like that, but the question still stands of how coherent I'll be.

Anyway, I figure people--pregnant women included--have done crazier things and I couldn't stand the idea of staying home watching re-runs of The Nanny on Nick at Nite while my best friends were out surrounded by tweens in pajama pants and Ugg boots swooning over Edward Cullen. That sort of yielding is just not in my nature.

Top 10 Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me About Pregnancy

2009-11-18T19:06:00.006-05:00

1. Morning sickness doesn't always include the relief of vomiting.
I was actually sitting in a booth at Applebee's, staring down a plate of french fries and a Fire Pit Bacon Burger with two bites taken out of it when I realized I needed to take a pregnancy test. The few weeks leading up to that moment were packed with tell-tale signs that my period was coming any day--irritability, extremely sore breasts, constant fatigue--but my barely touched plate of food made me realize there was one other symptom I hadn't acknowledged: I was becoming undeniably nauseous every time I ate. It didn't matter what I was eating or when I was eating it, it was making me sick, only I could never find reprieve from the nausea because I never had the overwhelming urge to vomit. I was just in a constant state of nausea for 13 weeks.

2. My dogs would know I was pregnant.
On the one hand it was very sweet to wake up in the middle of the night at 8 weeks pregnant and find Jack sleeping with his ear up against my belly as if he could hear the baby's heartbeat before any of us, or the way Macy always positions herself over my abdomen whenever there's too much rough housing going on between Jon and Jack or when there's a particularly loud argument brewing. On the other hand it's not so sweet having two dogs on a constant state of alert, watching my every move, and following my every foot step. It's almost as though they feel a sense of responsibility to make sure the baby and I are safe at all times. You're probably wondering what's so wrong with that? All I can say is it's kind of hard to concentrate when there are two dogs pacing, worrying, and sometimes even crying on the other side of the bathroom door because you might be in danger while you're "taking care of business" and they can't help you because you closed the stupid door. They also seem to find it very hard to sleep around me and I'm such a light sleeper that the slightest movement or click of nails on the hardwood will keep me awake for a very long time.

3. Not everyone acquires a glowing complexion.
I've been told countless times by friends, family members, and total strangers who like to chat it up with pregnant women in the grocery aisles that their hair, skin, and nails were never more luscious than when they were pregnant, and I have the hardest time not clawing their eyes out. My hair and nails are unbelievably shiny and strong and they grow like weeds, but my skin is a whole different story. My skin has reverted back to my teenage years. I have acne like you wouldn't believe. It runs all along my jaw line, down my neck, and across my chest with lone soldiers taking up sporadic residence on my nose, cheeks, and forehead. Prior to becoming pregnant, the last time I wore concealer was on my wedding day for extra coverage against the camera, but I wear it on an almost daily basis now or else I'd look like I let myself go in a really horrible way.

4. Psychotic tendencies a.k.a Niagara Falls times 300!
Of course I knew that pregnant women had a tendency to be irritable--who wouldn't when the size of your abdomen grows a little closer to that of a house every morning? What I didn't realize was it's not just irritability, there are some seriously strong emotions that run through me at every single moment. Some days I feel like a really big nerve ending that keeps getting poked at for the hell of it. I know no one is doing it on purpose. Hell, I even know it's all in my head usually, but that's never enough to make me stop crying. And some days, oh yeah, some days I don't even need a reason to sit on the couch and cry quietly. I'm overly emotional as it is but these hormones really take it to a whole other dimension.

5. Your taste buds experience an identity crisis.
My food goal during the first 13 weeks was to just find food that didn't make me feel terrible. I didn't worry about nutrition so much as fighting off the nausea, but I always figured I'd go back to my old, healthy eating habits once I got through the first trimester. It turns out I was wrong. It turns out that the last year I've spent developing healthy eating habits to lose weight and lead by example to my child can go away with the flip of a switch, or so it seems. Even though I don't get nauseous anymore, most of the foods I've been eating for the last year do not appeal to me in the slightest. I hate that I followed a much healthier diet before getting pregnant than I am now, even though it's so much more important now than it ever was. I'm finally getting to the point now that I'm able to force it again. I used to like carrots and broccoli. I eat them for the baby now, not because I actually want them, ever.

6. The thought: "Someone has to be the 1 in 250, so it's probably me!" never goes away.
I never realized how scary pregnancy was, how easy it was to convince myself that my life may end if my baby doesn't make it. It's amazing how quickly and completely you become attached to this little life inside you, and how paralyzing it can be when you realize how many things can go wrong. I've calmed down quite a bit especially now that I can feel the baby move, but those first few months were maddening. Not that I have to say anything about it in this blog because there are a dozen others in the last 4 months that are proof of how scared I was and sometimes still am. Like I said, I'm much calmer now that I can feel the baby move but the fears never really go away completely. I lay awake some nights thinking: what if I pushed myself too hard today? what if the cord is wrapped around his neck? what if he arrives premature? what if they missed something in the screening? what about SIDS? What I've come to realize is this is probably never going to go away. Even if, God willing, we make it through the delivery and infancy and toddler hood just fine, then I get to wonder about things like: what if he doesn't fit in? what if he loses control of the car? what if he never comes home? what if? what if? what if?

7. It's not just delivery that hurts.
This should probably be number one. This is the whole reason I started a list in the first place, but whatever. I've read/skimmed a dozen or so pregnancy books thus far and very, very few mention round ligament pains. My mother had 6 kids, my older sister had 4, and my younger sister has had 1, but not a single one of them mentioned round ligament pains. For those who have never been pregnant, round ligament pains are brief, sharp, stabbing pains, or a longer-lasting dull ache in your lower abdomen. It's caused by ligaments stretching to support your growing uterus. It makes absolute perfect sense once you've read into it, but believe me when I tell you that there is nothing scarier than simply turning over in bed too quickly and feeling like your abdomen has just been sliced open, even if it does only last for a few seconds. Or that time when I bent over to pick up a towel, stood up too fast, and fell right to my knees because it felt like my legs had just torn away from my body? How can something so painful and so scary not be printed in bold text in every single pregnancy book out there? I don't know, maybe I just have a severe case, but still. If you promise to tell me everything about pregnancy make sure you include the stuff that might make me think my baby has just died a horrific death but is really just typical growing pains. On the bright side, now I know why pregnant women move so slow; it's not because they're so much larger, but because it hurts too damn bad to go any faster.

8. You don't have to wait 9 months before the baby starts keeping you awake at night.
First and foremost I just want to say this is not at all a complaint. I wait for, enjoy, and relish in every single nudge, kick, or tiny little movement I get from my baby, but I never realized he would have a sleep and wake schedule before he was born and I especially never thought his schedule would begin and end at completely different times than mine. This baby wakes me up at 4:30 in the morning every morning. It's like clockwork. Even though I'm sound asleep, not moving, and even though it's pitch black inside and out, he begins kicking and stretching and my belly starts bumping my arms or Jack's head and it's...it's...well, it's hilarious! And who can sleep when something so miraculous and entertaining is taking place in your own body? Like I said, it's not a complaint, more like, why did I not know this?

9. Everyone has an opinion about your size.
In the span of a month I've been told everything from "You don't even look pregnant!" to "Are you sure there aren't twins in there?!" but the most common is just a simple "You're HUGE!" I let it upset me at first, but I very quickly learned that no one means any harm, they just aren't really thinking before they speak. I mean, c'mon, how many 26 week pregnant women who haven't seen their feet in what feels like forever are going to believe they don't look pregnant? My immediate thought was if I don't look pregnant then I must look a very strange sort of fat! And then the others who acted as though I was so massive the sheer force of my breath alone was enough to knock them over were really just making conversation, albeit in a very strange, borderline insulting way. I also noticed a trend pretty quickly: everyone who knew me before I lost 70 pounds thought I was running on the small side, and everyone who met me after the 70 pound loss thought I was gigantic. It makes sense when I look at it that way, but I don't know that it really gives people the excuse to talk to me/about me the way they do sometimes. No matter what, from this moment forward, I will always think twice before commenting on a pregnant woman's size. Wait. Scratch that. I will just never comment on a pregnant woman's size. I'm sticking with, "Wow. You look positively radiant."

10. Never ever ever use Google to self diagnose!
I never mentioned it here, but at my 20 week appointment our midwife discovered I have placenta previa which means I have a low lying placenta and it's covering my cervix. It's a condition that usually corrects itself by delivery, but in the rare case that it doesn't I will have no choice but to have a c-section. Attempting a vaginal birth with placenta previa risks birthing the placenta first which would cause massive amounts of blood loss and possibly death to both the baby and myself. Women with placenta previa are also more likely to experience hemorrhaging or to go into pre-term labor. It's obviously not a diagnosis to take lightly, but when I asked the midwife whether or not I should be worried she very specifically said, "Not yet. We'll do another ultrasound at 28 weeks and it should have corrected itself by then. If it hasn't, then we'll go from there, but we're not going to worry. Not yet." But did I listen to her? Of course not! The first thing I did after arriving home was Google "placenta previa" and read every single horror story about women hemorrhaging on their kitchen floors and giving birth to their baby at only 26 weeks. I read about so many women who went into pre-term labor and lost their babies that I had myself convinced the same thing would happen to me. Just when I'd finally reached a time in my pregnancy when I didn't feel fragile, when I was sure it was all going to work out for us, I was diagnosed with something that I was convinced was a death sentence for both me and the baby. I cried for a week. Jon banned me from searching anything pregnancy related on the internet and immediately advises me to call the midwives 24-hour help line whenever I have the urge to Google a strange symptom. The internet is a fabulous, helpful thing but I've learned that it's mostly women with the saddest, most heart-wrenching stories who post on pregnancy boards and I had to learn that the hard way, unfortunately.

Separation Anxiety

2009-11-17T17:37:00.003-05:00

Turns out there's a downside to letting your husband handle all of the planning and communications with the animal hospital when your dog goes in for surgery: you don't find out that your dog isn't coming home that night until last minute. We're spending a night at home without Macy for the first time since we adopted her. It is definitely going to be an eerily quiet evening without the pitter-patter of her paws on the floor. We call Jack the silent assassin, but Macy is our noisy ox even though she weighs a few pounds less.

Anyway, we're told the surgery went well and provided everything goes well with her tonight she'll be home tomorrow morning. Then, depending on how long it takes her to recover--anywhere from 3-8 weeks--we'll start preparing for the next one.

Even though I haven't seen her, I'm feeling more and more confident that we made the right decision in going through with the surgery. It broke my heart to spend a few days trying to decide how much money a dog is worth. Our dogs have been our children for all of these years, but we have new priorities around the corner, and we had the fear of putting an old dog through too much in such a short span of time, but then I think about how defiant and head-strong Macy is and I know we did the right thing. I know that dog has a lot of fight left in her and I can tell she's already got big plans for the various baby blankets and toys that keep finding their way into the house if she could only reach them. She has an agenda and nothing is going to hold her back.

So tonight will be a peaceful night. We'll have a quiet dinner without the fear of a dog stealing the food from my plate, and Jack will get to remember what it's like to be an only dog. Of course, he has to stop wandering around the house, searching aimlessly for Macy first. It should be interesting to say the least.

Saving Macy

2009-11-16T20:11:00.005-05:00

Did you know a dog could develop breast cancer? Yeah, me either, but that's exactly what our vet diagnosed Macy with almost three weeks ago. From what I gather breast cancer is fairly common in female dogs who have not been fixed, and although Macy was spayed before we adopted her it wasn't until after she'd had at least one litter of puppies, making it much more likely for her to develop breast cancer than if she'd been spayed at a young age.

So what do we do? Well, she goes in for her first of two surgeries tomorrow in which she will receive the equivalent of a doggy mastectomy on her left side. It will be a one to two month recovery time and then she goes in for the second surgery to have the right side done. If all goes as planned she'll be fully recovered right around the time that, well, the baby gets here, and then we turn her world upside down and inside out by bringing yet another little life into the house that she'll feel responsible for keeping track of at all times. Needless to say, life is about to get very interesting, provided that she survives.

Wait. That sounds really dark, doesn't it? Provided that she survives? Fortunately, the vet doesn't seem the slightest bit worried that she'll pull through the two surgeries, the healing process, and the stress of bringing the baby home all in a three month span, but of course Jon and I have our concerns. We don't know how old she is--she was a rescue--and we don't know her past history with illness other than she was severely emaciated when she and her son were discovered in an abandoned home. We don't know for sure that she's got what it takes to get through the next few months, but we do know that she's not acting like a dog who's ready to call it quits, and the vet believes we'll be buying her another four to five years of active life if we go through with these surgeries, so we're doing it. We're going through with the surgeries and we're hoping for the best. We're hoping to not only give her a longer life, which is what we feel we promised her by signing the adoption papers, but we're also hoping to have the same animated, hard-headed, and loving dog we've come to know in the last three years.

I'll be the first to admit that I've been a hard judge of character where Macy is concerned. I'm extremely guilty of playing favorites between her and Jack--my first baby--but when I stop and look at what her life has brought her through and the fact that she still loves me and protects me as if there is nothing more important in the world, my heart aches for her, and I can't imagine life without her.

Team Work

2009-11-09T20:00:00.005-05:00

Jon went grocery shopping on his own last night. I can count on well, two fingers, the number of times he's done that. You see, my husband is a very kind and giving man, but he is far from observant. He will gladly give you the shirt off his back but you have to tell him that you're cold and naked first. In other words, he's not likely to notice that we've run out of orange juice, or that we're down to the last roll of toilet paper until it's too late. For this reason the grocery shopping has always been left up to me, and I'm okay with that, usually. We've run into some problems with my pregnancy, however, in that our house was not built for bringing home groceries. Our garage is located below the main floor and all boxes and bags have to be carried up a full flight of stairs before finding their way to the kitchen, so if I'm shopping and unloading on my own I usually run into the problem of either a) carrying too much at one time and risk hurting myself or the baby, or b) taking so many trips up and down the stairs that I tire myself out very quickly. So in the last few months it's become apparent that I need Jon there to help me, to get the heavy items in and out of the cart at the store, and to lug them all up to the kitchen once at home.

The plan for last night was pretty simple: I'd be armed and ready with a grocery list by the time he arrived home from work and we'd hit the store together, but it didn't quite work out that way. I made out a quick, not quite complete list and then accidentally passed out on the couch. By the time he got home at 8:30 I was in no condition to do anything but make my way to bed. Just before I closed my eyes, I remember thinking how annoyed he was going to be when he came home and found me sound asleep, and I remember mentally kicking myself for being so damn tired because if ever we needed more food or supplies in our house it was yesterday, but I couldn't help myself, and I was sleeping heavily before I knew it.

Fortunately, Jon wasn't annoyed at all by my inability to stay awake. He was actually apologetic for getting home nearly an hour later than he'd planned, but to my surprise, he was perfectly willing to take the grocery list I'd made and head out to the store on his own.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't have been more thankful. And the best part? He even remembered the green tea I forgot to include on the list.

Like I said, my husband is a very kind and giving man, but he was out of his element when he stepped into that grocery store without me last night, and he did it anyway because he's suddenly become very sympathetic to my pregnant condition. And on an unrelated, but equally swoon-worthy note, he's agreed to go see New Moon with me since everyone else I know is going to a midnight showing.

I had my doubts in the beginning as to whether or not he and I would be able to survive this pregnancy together, but he's proving me wrong in many subtle, but powerful ways.

Putting it all in perspective

2009-11-07T11:36:00.008-05:00

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but here goes nothing:

I weighed in at 201 pounds at my 24 week appointment on Thursday.

I'm trying very hard not to worry unnecessarily about my weight during my pregnancy. The last thing I want is to have an unhealthy relationship with food when I have a very important responsibility to make sure that my baby is getting enough of it. Instead, I'm trying my very best to keep a healthful perspective by understanding that putting on too much weight could be dangerous for the baby, but not putting on enough could be even worse. That's how I justify a 29 pound weight gain anyway (10 of which were gained before I even knew I was pregnant).

It is a little disheartening, however, when I look back to this time last year and see how very hard I struggled to get below that 200 pound mark. It was nearly impossible with the holidays and constantly being surrounded by delicious food that I refused to deny myself. I just did the best I could to avoid overeating and I worked out like a machine. I don't think it was until late December or early January that the scales finally tipped to 198 pounds, and it wasn't until mid-January--when all of the leftovers had disappeared--that the scale remained that low. Of course, then I spent the next four months slowly, frustratingly shaving off another 26 pounds, and when the scale just wouldn't go any lower than 172 pounds for the entire month of June I stopped paying attention and took a break from dieting.

Little did I know my body was creating a cozy little home for an embryo and I had been pregnant for most of the month of June.

I never once thought I'd get pregnant before I reached my goal weight, not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't truly believe that I would get pregnant even after reaching my goal weight. I didn't think it was ever going to happen for us. I would lie awake at night wondering how horrific the argument would be when Jon decided to approach me about adoption and I would have to finally admit that I didn't want to do it. I would have to be that terrible person who said we either have our children, or we don't have children at all. There's a story and fear behind my feeling this way, but it's for another time. Bottom line is, Jon always said if we exhausted all avenues and I still couldn't get pregnant, then we would just adopt children, but I have yet to muster enough courage to tell him that I don't think I ever could adopt a child, and I've always feared that because he wanted children so badly, this conversation could be the end of our marriage.

So, here I am, at 201 pounds. Full of baby, full of life, and full of food that I've denied myself for a very long time. I'm thinking back to the days when a 29 pound weight gain would have made me snap, and I'm doing it while quietly sitting on my couch and watching my belly jump as our son kicks me from his womb. And I'm looking back at an entry from almost one year ago today and laughing at the irony:

"3 more pounds and I’ll be under 200. October was an absolutely terrible month weight loss wise. Damn you McDonald’s and your evil Monopoly pieces--Ronald should be hanged!"

"Dear God, it’s not like I have to get pregnant right now, it’s just, you know, a sign that I’ll be able to give birth sometime in the foreseeable future would be fabulous. Love, Kate."

What's Up

2009-11-02T17:31:00.004-05:00

Last night I started crying as if the bottom had finally dropped out. All of the sadness, the fear, the anger, and every other negative emotion I've been feeling for the last 6 months boiled to the top and I couldn't stop the flood of tears that hit me like a tidal wave on the way home from my mother-in-law's house. What was I so upset about, you ask? Oh, well, you know, I was exhausted and it was only 8 o'clock. I hadn't been awake for 12 hours and I could barely keep my eyes open. How is that fair? How am I supposed to get anything done when I constantly feel like this? Life is never going to be the same and I can't do anything but cry about it. So I did, and I think I did it quite well.

Jon listened quietly from the driver's seat while I threw my soggy fit. He simply nodded and comforted me every time I found something new to cry about. He didn't take offense when I told him we were going to be terrible parents, and he refrained from laughing at me when I claimed there were conspirators in our lives who were anxiously awaiting our first parental screw up just so they could rub it in our faces. Jon comforted me as best as he could as I cried because there isn't enough love in this horribly ugly world that I'm bringing our son into and there is nothing I can do to fix it.

It's the moments like this that scare me. It's the moments like this that make me wonder how I'll ever make it through the next 16 weeks, and if I'll ever be able to submit myself to this mental torture again. The physical pain sucks but the emotional turmoil is debilitating.

I don't doubt this is all perfectly normal, in fact, I know it is. I've read, witnessed, and related to countless accounts of moments eerily similar to this one and the many others that have crept into my pregnancy. I am an extremely emotional person. I feel things strongly, especially sadness, anger, jealousy, fear, and I feel them HARD even without these raging hormones, and so I suppose it's acceptable that I'm nearly paralyzed by them now...even if it something as little as feeling tired.

I suppose the only thing that really matters is that I'm a good mother when this is all said and done, so please, Dear God, let me be a good mother. Oh, and God? I'd appreciate it if you helped my husband refrain from putting me in the loony bin. I know he's tempted. Thank you!

Atleast the Bills are Paid

2009-10-03T15:30:00.006-04:00

Today I balanced the bank book for the first time in over a month, and yes, that would be the same month in which I started a new job, stopped receiving severance payments, and took a trip to Las Vegas. In fact, the last transaction I had recorded was the withdraw of $500 in preparation for our trip. And while I try to comfort myself with the fact that I always had a running tally of dollars in my head so that I would (probably) know if we were about to bounce the account, I'm still disappointed in my dangerous decision to wait so long, and I consider myself very, very fortunate to not be in a big financial hole right now.

Truth be told, procrastination has become a way of life ever since I found out I was pregnant. It's like right after I took that test and a small, pink plus sign appeared, my world and I were submerged into a very large tank of water and each movement requires extra effort and a whole lot more time to perform than usual, so instead of taking action, I sit back and pretend there isn't anything to act upon.

It's one of the many things I hope to find a cure for before this baby arrives, including becoming less selfish, become comfortable making telephone calls, and most importantly, become a good role model.

I've got my work cut out for me.

Note to Self

2009-10-02T10:02:00.000-04:00

Next time, pass on the homemade chocolate cake. I know it's tempting, and having a giant jelly bean bounce around in your belly is a funny experience, but it is kinda mean to give your kid a sugar rush this young.

Kill 'Em With Cuteness

2009-09-30T17:47:00.003-04:00

Daddy's #1 draft pick. I've fought the good fight where buying clothes is concerned (because that's a big commitment, you know? To admit that he'll actually leave my womb) but I couldn't resist this one.

Things I Learned in Las Vegas

2009-09-29T17:25:00.013-04:00

1. This city doesn't need slot machines or Black Jack tables to sucker you out of your last dime. Two words: "complimentary" and "gratuity" will drive you to the poor house in no time.

2. If you are of the female persuasion and you find yourself in the unfortunate position of being in Planet Hollywood late on a Friday night and can't figure out why you're so uncomfortable, here's a hint: You Have Too Many Clothes On! Head back to your hotel, change into the skimpiest, most revealing boob shirt you brought with you, and you'll fit right in. Trust me.

3. The Hoover Dam has the perfect place to hide that dead body...

4. Katie + first ever flight take off = total meltdown.

5. All those people who say, "Don't worry, Las Vegas is a dry heat! It will be a lot more comfortable than the humidity in Ohio!" need to be slapped. HARD. Dry or not, 109 degrees is fucking HOT and extremely uncomfortable.

6. This city was made for me--about 5 months ago--when I could drink, smoke, not worry about how I'll pay for future child care, and could stand in the sun for longer than 2 seconds before acquiring a 3rd degree burn.

7. Bus doing 50 mph on the open desert road + flock of dumb birds = :( on windshield.

8. If you think New York City is a melting pot, you haven't seen anything until you visit the Grand Canyon. My favorite was a pretty girl with a New Zealand accent who stood at the edge, calling out the name of each pose before her boyfriend snapped a photo..."Zoolanda!", "Uh Oh!", "Madonna!"

9. Cheesy photo ops are just around every corner. Like this one about Loose sluts..I mean slots!

10. You CAN listen to the same song over and over for 2.5 hours while driving through the dark desert, especially when that song is "Record Year for Rainfall" by The Decemberists.

11. I'm cheap. I gambled 10 dollars. I lost 10 dollars and gave up.

12. It takes 4.5 hours to drive to the Grand Canyon and all of 20 minutes to fly over it from McCarran International Airport.

13. You can be quiet and polite, or you can be loud and profane, either way, that shuttle driver isn't giving in until the overheated pregnant lady starts shouting fightin' words.

14. I finally understand why Westerners say Ohio is so Green. Dear Westerners, I'm so sorry for looking at you like you've lost your marbles. I get it now!

15. Jon + camera + Las Vegas = blurry photos every time.

16. Don't believe everything you see on CSI.

17. Did you get on the bus on a Friday night? Don't worry, you'll reach your hotel--it may be next week, or maybe even next year--but you will get there eventually...

18. Never underestimate the Hispanic men handing out hooker cards. They WILL reach across your pregnant wife to try and entice you with the photo card of a naked prostitute.

Feel the Love

2009-09-28T12:40:00.001-04:00

Kate: "I really am sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean it. My emotions are at an extreme right now."

Jon: "It's okay. I know. You know how some people are mean drunks...?"

Kate: "Are you saying I'm a mean pregnant lady?!"

Jon: "Well, yeah."

Sweet Pea

2009-09-25T20:05:00.001-04:00

It's nearing the end of the month. It's that time where I start to freak out about how much I haven't updated and start thinking if I don't do it now I might get too scared to ever do it again, so you end up with everything in a one long entry of the month kind of thing. What bothers me about it this time is how much happened in September that the internet doesn't know about; it doesn't know September 2009 has been one of the most fulfilling months of my life.

This month my husband and I learned we're having a boy! I was only 16 weeks along at the time, which isn't too early to find out, obviously, but slightly unusual as it's not typically a scheduled ultrasound. Our baby is difficult, however, and has yet to let the doctors or midwives find his heartbeat with a fetal Doppler, so I've actually been the scared but happy recipient of an ultrasound at every single prenatal check-up thus far. The fact that they have not been able to find the heartbeat via Doppler doesn't frighten me so much anymore because I know there are quite a few factors coming into play; like all of that fat on my abdomen I was in the process of losing, but never became completely rid of, or the fact that my uterus has been slightly tilted, though evidence is showing it to be straightening up a little more each month, and lastly, I seem to be carrying my baby a bit higher than they anticipated because they search my lower abdomen with the fetal Doppler to no avail, but have no trouble finding his heartbeat almost along side my belly button in the ultrasound.

Anyway, back to my 16 week check-up, Jon and I are giggling to each other and making cracks about our stubborn baby (because what else would our kid be?) as the midwife is unsuccessful at finding the heartbeat with a fetal Doppler for the 4th appointment in a row. I verify with the midwife that I'll be able to have an ultrasound done today to make sure everything is okay and she assures me I will. Ten minutes later, in the next room, I pulled the elastic of my dress pants below my belly and my shirt up to my chest while the ultrasound technician spread gel across my abdomen and Jon sat quietly at my side. The technician computed my name and due date into the machine, flipped on the sound, and Jon and I were listening to our baby's heartbeat for the first time. It was fast and steady, like the sound of a running horse's hooves, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Jon and I smiled at each other and I thought for sure life couldn't get any sweeter than that moment. But to my amazement, the conversation took a quick and unexpected turn right then. It went a little something like this:

Technician: "Were you planning to find out the sex?"

Kate, after turning to Jon for permission: "Yes."

Technician: "Well, did you want to know today?"

Kate: "You can tell now?!"

Technician: "Oh yeah! It's a little early, and sometimes I have trouble telling because of the position the baby is in, but this one is easy. Look..."

She turned her wrist and tilted to a new angle that had us looking up at our baby's butt.

Technician: "See that? Your baby is not shy. It's sitting spread eagle! And do you see that thing there? Between its legs?"

Kate: "Oh yeah. That's a penis!"

Technician: "Yep, you're having a boy!"

I can honestly say, with all of my heart, Jon and I would have been perfectly happy with either a girl or a boy. After 4 years of trying to get pregnant, the only thing we really, truly wanted was a healthy baby, but in that moment, in the realization that I was looking at a penis and in the technicians announcement, I felt a wave of calm wash over me, like this is exactly how it was supposed to be all along. If I was forced to have a preference it would have been a boy, and when I looked over at Jon and saw him grinning from ear to ear, and perhaps even sitting up a little taller, I knew he felt the exact same way.

We are having a boy. That short, simple sentence sends shock waves of happiness and excitement through my entire body every single time. We are having a precious little boy.

September 2009 also goes down in history as the month I traded in my muffin top for a belly that more resembles a tortoise shell and is almost just hard. I've started showing. I've passed through that awkward, is she fat or is she pregnant stage and moved on into the she's oh so pregnant cuteness stage. Maternity clothes have become my best friend and I never enjoyed shopping for clothes more. I spent the majority of my adult life shopping in the plus size department and scowling at the maternity clothes across the aisle because for some annoying, unfair reason the maternity clothes were so much more attractive than the "fat girl" clothes. Needless to say, I've been admiring the shape and clothing of pregnant women for a very long time and even though I managed to move out of the plus sizes last year, I'm having a fabulous time shopping across the aisle this year.

Another fantastic thing about this month has been letting myself let go a little. I know I said a long time ago that I just needed to relax and stop fearing everything that could wrong with this pregnancy in order to have a healthy one, but I've had a really hard time listening to my own advice. The fear is overwhelming. The idea of coming so far only to lose it all is terrifying. Knowing that I didn't even have to do anything wrong or stupid in order to lose everything I've grown to love was crippling. I waited for the bottom to drop out for two whole months, but it never did. Instead I went to appointment after appointment and was greeted with an ever growing baby, and then this last time I was greeted with a growing baby boy.

I've finally started breathing again. I realized the other day that I am one week and two days away from being half way through my pregnancy, and I think, I really do think that God is going to let me have this. He's really and truly letting me have this joy, even though I was so sure he wouldn't.

It started off timid and slow as I began sniffing the flowers when no one was watching, but it didn't take long before I began filling my lungs with the beautiful aroma. I'm not just sniffing the flowers now--I'm basking in them--rolling around and laughing and bathing myself in their sweet scent. I'm letting myself enjoy every remaining moment of this pregnancy, because you know what? I'm growing a precious baby boy with fingers and toes and a heart with four chambers. I'm finally willing to accept this for what it is; not a cruel joke, but an amazing, breath-taking miracle.

Shits and Giggles

2009-09-02T19:31:00.007-04:00

I'm still in a bad mood. This is obviously not my week as everything seems to be going wrong, so rather than risk embarrassing myself in the future by ranting uncontrollably about said happenings I'm going to leave you with a few texts Jon and I exchanged this morning. (For those of you who don't know, I left my husband in Las Vegas on Sunday morning for his annual business conference. Since then I've been dragging myself to work each morning and spending the evening watching chick flicks. It's just that time of year.)

Jon: (10:22 am) Good morning. I love you so much. I miss you and I can't wait to get home.

Kate: (1:33 pm) Are you brown nosing? :P I can't wait for you to be home...although I have gotten used to having the bed all to myself...

Kate: (1:35 pm) Jack wants to play fetch with you...

Kate: (1:37 pm) I'm not kidding! He wants to play so bad he's licking his lips...

Kate: (1:39 pm) And after fetch, he wants to take a dog nap w/ you...

Kate: (1:41 pm ) Macy misses you so much she hides in bed all day...

Jon: (4:02 pm) No I'm not brown nosing.

Yes, yes, it's true. I have way too much time on my hands, but I rather enjoyed the idea of him sitting in a 6 hour meeting, taking an unapproved break every 2 minutes to see what his crazy wife had sent this time.

Shady Practices

2009-09-01T19:11:00.002-04:00

Dear Reader's Digest,

As I no longer have to worry about losing my severance payments (seeing as you had prearranged a way to get yourself out of paying it all anyway) I have 2 words for you: Fuck. You. Your company is a joke and I have no doubt you will fail miserably and embarrassingly.

Sincerely,
Kate

New Beginnings

2009-08-24T21:27:00.004-04:00

Today was my first day at the new job and I'm having trouble deciding what to tell you about first. Should I start with the awesome, down-to-earth people? Or maybe I should begin with how the job description has turned out be so much more interesting than I expected and actually very, very similar to what I have been doing for the last 5 years. Or perhaps I should just dive right in and describe the extremely serene and beautiful lunch break I had while sitting at a picnic table next to the lake on a gorgeous summer day! That break was so wonderful I could barely concentrate on the book I was reading because my eyes kept averting to the small, shining ripples in the water and how they kept quietly smacking against the shore.

I know its early, but I think I'm in love...with my new job. The atmosphere and overall morale is a total 180 from what I've become all too familiar with in my work life. I feel as though I finally work for a company who has found the proper balance between providing a fun, carefree atmosphere while still holding the employees accountable for their performance.

I'd been extremely nervous every time I thought about starting this new job, and it seemed to only get worse with the approaching start date. I'd been away from work, life, and a normal adult-detailed schedule for so long that I was nearly convinced I was 11 years old again and facing the excitement/horror of going back to school. I'd destroyed my sleeping schedule over the summer and I was afraid I might have lost my work-ethic as well. I don't know that it's possible, but I was very frightened that I'd let go of the strong, confident, and bright employee I've always been while fighting through the shutdown of my last job and then during the 2 month wait for this opportunity to find its way to me. But fortunately I was wrong. I learned today that I am still every bit as strong, confident, and bright as I ever was, and more importantly, determined to do this right because I'm finally surrounded by people like me--people who take pride in their work, who care about doing it right the first time, and who can find and appreciate that proper balance between friendly socializing and getting the job done.

I know it was only my first day and it's possible ugly demons are already hiding behind corners just waiting for the right time to jump out at me, but after today I can't help but be reminded of something a friend said to me. She wished me luck on my first day and said she hoped the company was a good fit for me. I was taken aback because I'd never worried about it before as I've always been so consumed with the fear of not being a good fit for them that how I felt didn't really matter. She had an excellent point though, and I'm so relieved to feel that they are a really, really good fit for me. I mean, it's possible there isn't a better one out there.

Worrywart

2009-08-17T21:19:00.005-04:00

This morning I awoke to discover I was spotting ever so slightly, and I found myself in the unfortunate position of choosing between two extremes: a) be myself, stay mostly calm, keep an eye on the problem, and hope it all works out for the best, or b) be my sister, convince myself that the baby and I are dying, call the doctor crying, and demand an ultrasound pronto.

I gave myself a leisurely hour before making a decision. I didn't really think anything was wrong, but I had this nagging voice in my head that was listing off all of the other times in my life in which I should have called someone but didn't, and how differently things could have turned out then, typically for the better. So I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled out the folder I was given on our first visit and glanced over the short list of things to notify the doctor about. Sure enough, the very last thing listed was bleeding, and it said all bleeding, even if very light, should be reported in early pregnancy. My problem then became: I'm 13 weeks. I'm in my second trimester. Surely that doesn't constitute as early pregnancy? More like mid-pregnancy, but just barely.

My reasoning (excuses) fought the good fight and I ended up calling. Better safe than sorry, right?

A nurse answered the phone and I very calmly explained my situation, carefully recounting every small detail, even a few strange, probably unrelated, occurrences that happened during the days prior. I figured the more detail, the more likely they'll be able to tell me whether or not something was seriously wrong. I also answered all of her questions, however embarrassing, and managed to feel relatively mature throughout the entire conversation. And after conferring with a doctor the nurse informed me that what I had experienced was probably nothing, but I was more than welcome to come in this afternoon for a quick exam to make sure everything is okay. I graciously accepted the emergency appointment, mostly because I couldn't see myself making it through the next three weeks, until our next check-up, without questioning every little discomfort.

The baby and I are fine. We're both going to live. I was just told to take it easy for the next 24 hours or so. It was actually a very exciting appointment as I got another ultrasound and it's amazing what a difference a week can make when compared with the ultrasound pictures I received last Wednesday. It could be the angle, but honestly, in the matter of 6 days the thing growing inside of me has gone from strange little alien to thumb-sucking human. It's beautiful.