Support System

When we had Ada, we had a lot of support. Everyone knew we were in for the shock of our lives. Parents came to stay, friends made meals, other friends just came to listen to what life was like with a baby. With Iain, it has been totally different. Either people assume we know what we are doing this time so we don't need as much help, or because he is a summer baby they are all more busy and not as desperate to get out of the house. On top of that, most of my mom friends are either pregnant or had a second child just before we did so we can't all rely on each other like we did with just one kid because we are too tired or too busy. To compound matters further, the worst time of day for Rick and I is bedtime when both kids need the most attention. That also just happens to be when our social, sanity maintaining opportunities are at their peak.

Once you mix that all together and add in financial stress, work stress for both of us, and exam stress for Rick, you have the recipe for short tempers. We also have a side of separation anxiety, underdeveloped communication skills and whininess from Ada.

Should I really wonder why I want to call all of my friends who don't have kids and congratulate them on a decision well made? Or why I'm really tempted to tell everyone with one kid to quit while they are ahead? Or why I saw a pregnant woman with a toddler coming out of daycare yesterday and wished her the best of luck in my "you are so screwed" voice and then just started laughing when I saw that she has a dog too?

Maybe some people can handle juggling two kids and a dog and a spouse and a job or a part-time job and running a household and having a social calendar too. I can't. The thought of getting a dog makes my head spin, not like taking that out of the equation solves anything really. It's still ridiculous to think that one person can do it all. And yet, I try.

I'm glad that women's rights have come so far and that we can now hold jobs that were previously reserved only for men. But I'm really pissed off at the fact that we have ridiculous expectations for moms these days. We have crappy maternity leave, if any. Crappy paternity leave, if any. We have made two household incomes the standard. Our extended families no longer live right next door to lend a hand. And how much better are we for it?

I strongly believe that my kids should not spend more time with a caregiver each week than they do with me. That's just my opinion. That's how I'm made. That's what I want from life. I'm not saying I don't want to work or contribute to society. I'm not saying that I want to be a stay-at-home mom. What I am saying is that I think we took a wrong turn somewhere in our effort to achieve equality for everyone and we've just broken parts of a system that worked really well and helped raise generations of healthy, well-balanced children who feel loved. I'm not sure what effect our current standards will have on future generations. Only time will tell. I can only hope for the best.

Moral of the story: Support systems are key to maintaining sanity while raising a child. Build yours with care.

Traveling with Baby

I don't like the act of traveling from one place to another. I love vacations and exploring new places, but I really hate traveling in the car for hours on end, and I'm not excited about flying either. A friend just told me that she is taking her almost-three-year-old-son on a vacation via car from Illinois out to Pennsylvania and the Jersey Shore and then somewhere another sixteen hours away to stay at a relative's time-share. I looked at her and said, "You couldn't pay me to do that with a kid."

Maybe it's because I suffered from motion sickness for the duration of my childhood. Any car ride over forty-five minutes left me throwing up into my very own "barf bucket" --a one gallon ice cream tub complete with lid and handle. We flew to Florida every year at Christmastime to visit my grandparents and my dad and brother got seats in a different part of the plane so they didn't have to deal with me getting sick every time we landed. My brother would go through the plane and gather several barf bags for my mom to have handy and I never failed to use at least one. Thankfully, I've outgrown that for the most part. I do still get sick occasionally on cruise ships and I tend to avoid my dad's boat as a precautionary measure.

Ada hasn't shown any consistent signs of having my weak traveler's stomach, but she has thrown up in the car three or four times. It always coincides with her having a cup of juice right beforehand. I count my blessings that she inherited her dad's more tolerant stomach. And we'll just have to wait and see how well Iain fares in the car--so far, so good.

But that's not really why I don't like traveling. Now that I have two kids, it is because it takes forever to get anywhere. By the time you pack the car, load up the kids, get on the road, stop to nurse the baby, get stuck in traffic, listen to the baby scream, listen to Ada whine, pull off for gas or a snack or a bathroom break -- which means unloading the kids and reloading the kids--it is an exhausting process. Just going to the grocery store can take hours. I assume things will improve as the kids get older and I'm not nursing and we equip them each with an Ipod filled with movies and a cushy neck pillow. But I can't imagine I will ever get to a point where I look at my husband and say, "Let's put the kids in the car and drive far, far away for a cross country family vacation!" And if I did ever say that, I think he would look at me and know that something was really, really wrong.

The only way that I tolerate long road trips is if they are for something really worthwhile. Worthwhile meaning that I will put up with an eight hour plane ride if I get to spend two weeks in Germany. Or a six hour car ride if I get to see my best friend get married (while saving $500 on airfare and getting the grandparents to watch the kids so I can have alone time with my husband.) I start hitting my limit on trips back to our hometown an hour-and-a-half-away when we only go for a day or an overnight visit. By the time we pay for gas, pull over to quiet the kids a few times, pack and unpack the car, and then return home to a long list of chores that were put off so that we could spend three hours in the car, it doesn't seem worth it. Luckily, both of our parents live in the same town so we get to see most of our relatives each trip. And they are willing to watch the kids so we can get a date night out of the deal--assuming we aren't too exhausted to stay up late enough to actually go out on a date.

As I get older and our family expands, I find myself still wanting to do all of the things our parents and friends from back home invite us to do, but just not having the strength to endure the car ride out there to do them. I've been trying to coordinate and consolidate visits so that we maximize what we do and who we see each time we go home. It is nice to be invited and included in their lives, but there comes a point where we need to make our own lives. We live in the city and have a lot of friends to see and have Saturday brunch and BBQs with, museums and cultural centers to visit, and lazy days to enjoy. That's tough to fit in when we spend so much time traveling home for this, that, and something else. I've definitely noticed since we had Iain that more family members are coming in to see us, and they are coming more often. Now that, nine weeks after he was born, we finally got a chance to actually clean our house, I can be much more receptive to having friends and family stop by since I'm not as embarrassed by our messy home.

If nothing else, having a second child has taught my husband and I that we need to get better at saying "No" when it comes to our social calendar. I think we also need to get better at inviting our families to come visit more often and host more events here since they are more mobile than we are at this point in life. Hopefully, we'll find a happy medium.

Moral of the story: Having kids changes your social life and complicates travel. Set limits and learn how to say "No" to prevent yourselves from being stretched too thin.

Two Kids + One Bedroom = Disorganization

Since we have a two bedroom condo, our kids are going to be sharing a bedroom for a few years. Iain isn't sleeping in their room just yet since he has just recently starting having a six hour stint of sleep at night and we don't need him waking Ada up during her nightly twelve hour sleep marathon. That puts him in a Pack and Play in the dining room temporarily. Unfortunately, that puts his belongings all over the house, or realistically, shut in the bedroom with Ada fast asleep and us in fear of retrieving them so as not to wake her up. Yikes.

You would think we would have this all figured out now that he is six weeks old, but we don't. What we need to do is create a space, maybe even a drawer in the living room, for a few of his necessities so that we don't have to look at each other after we close Ada's bedroom door and say, "Honey, did you remember to grab the diapers and some burp cloths?" or "Crap! I forgot the wipes are all in her room." Which has been the norm rather than the exception this past few weeks.

The challenge is in keeping all of these things organized and in their proper places while they all seem to be in constant motion. Disposable diapers and wipes are depleted as they are used and thrown out. Cloth diapers and covers are soiled and often somewhere between the dirty diaper bucket, the laundry machine, the drying rack, a stack by their bedroom door of laundry to be put away, or in their room put in the cloth diaper drawers -- which we really shouldn't even be storing his diapers in at all but they don't have another home outside of their bedroom at this point. Outfits, blankets, burp cloths all make the laundry cycle and occasionally get trapped in with Ada. And the snot sucker has just recently been banned from being used in her room so as not to get it stuck in there. It's not an easy task to juggle all of his stuff and keep her out like Sleeping Beauty.

To make matters worse, since we can't store his stuff in their room at this point, that also means there are a lot more obstacles in the house for me to trip on in the night as I rush to quiet his screams so as not to wake Ada. If only they made a magical bubble we could put her and her bed into none of this would be an issue and I'd be much more organized.

Moral of the story: Sharing a room is good in theory once you have both kids sleeping through the night. Until then, it entails a lot of planning and organization to keep the entire family happy.

Kick Kick Kick

Friday we went to the beach. Saturday we were lazy and stayed in. And on Sunday, we went to a party with a pool!

Here's evidence of Ada's first dip in a pool.A big thanks go to Rick, Heather, Ba and Rich for humoring Ada's love of the water and her persistent pleas for being tossed. So where's mom? Hanging out poolside, literally, cuddled in the shade with baby Iain. Moral of the story: It's important to have relatives that will pick up the slack when you aren't able to do it all.

Me Gusta La Playa

That's Spanish for "I like the beach".



Well, actually, Ada likes the beach. I'm not as fond of it since the beach involves sand and in the case of Lake Michigan, really, really cold water.



Lucky for me, Aunt Heather came to visit for the weekend and sacrificed herself for Ada's sake and took one for the team. I surely wasn't going to don a bathing suit and take her swimming five weeks postpartum. Not a chance. Here's Ada saying "Come on Mom!"



Cold but happy. Well, at least Ada is happy. I think Heather is just hoping she can feel her toes again someday.Ada will eventually learn to put her sunglasses on right-side up...

Moral of the story: Some kids love water...even if it is really, really, really cold.

And here I am after finally being convinced that I should prove to Heather that the water isn't really that cold. (I totally lost that one. It's really cold.)

Ada wasn't at all happy when it was time to leave since she really loves the water. We bribed her with ice cream and then never even went to get ice cream due to storms and scheduling issues and being way too exhausted.

For any beach outing, I recommend you go early, think of a compelling reason your child will want to leave, and use baby powder to dry out the sand since baby powder is less of a mess than sand is in your house.

Moral of the story: The beach can be a lot of fun as long as you are prepared.

Baby Iain FAQ

Now that we have Iain, we are getting the same two questions from most everyone we see or meet.


After the pleasantries of, "Oh, he's so adorable!" and "Congratulations!" come two questions:


How does Ada like him?/What's Ada think of him?


and


Is he sleeping well?/Are you getting any sleep?


If the conversation continues much longer, the topic of "Is this it or are you planning to have more kids?" follows shortly thereafter.


Maybe we should challenge ourselves to try to come up with more exciting answers or a different way to answer each question just to see how creative we can be and what possible replies we can invent. Right now it goes something like...


"What's Ada think of him?"


And we say a variation of...


"She seems to like him. She just kisses him and goes on her way. She doesn't pay much attention to him and only gets mad if Rick is holding him and not paying attention to her. She did get mad and short out his bouncy seat by throwing water on it while Rick was holding Iain and we weren't watching, but that's about it."


Rick's thinking of replying with...

"She thinks he's the devil reincarnated because she put a crucifix up to his forehead yesterday and babbled something and we think it was 'demons out' but we're not sure."

"She gave him a black eye the other day, but it's okay because he peed on her blankie."


And I'm thinking of saying things involving less aggression...

"She thinks he sucks. He can't play, walk, talk, have tea parties or play with Barbies yet so she just ignores him."

"She thinks he's lame. All he does is eat, sleep, poop and cry. I think she'd rather have a puppy."


The truth of the matter is that she doesn't interact with him much. She's too busy having fun and he's too busy eating, sleeping, and growing. She'll occasionally come over and hold his hand while I change his diaper but that's about it. Life goes on for her. We'll see how that changes once he gets older.


And when someone asks "Are you getting any sleep?"


"Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Why? Do I look like hell?"

"Of course. It's not like he needs to wake up to eat or anything?"

or Rick's favorite...

"Actually, once you have a baby, there is this hormone in your body that makes it so you no longer need any sleep. All those other parents that complain of being sleep depraved are lying. It's really no big deal."

But really, we are getting a good deal of sleep. He wakes up every 3-6 hours at night for a quick bite to eat and then falls right back to sleep. I can't complain and am hopeful that he'll be able to sleep an 8 hour stint in the next two or three weeks when he is a bit bigger. We'll see how that goes.

In the meantime, we'll keep fielding the standard questions and trying to come up with more exciting answers.

Moral of the story: Sleep and sibling response to a second child are hot conversation topics. At least they are easy to talk about, unless you aren't getting any sleep and your older child is rejecting your new bundle of joy.

Ada's Back!

After 10 days of camping with Rick's family and friends, Ada was returned to us last night in one piece. You don't realize how much a toddler can change in ten days until you send them away. Wow!

See for yourself...

She's tan. She's more blond from being in the sun. She's grown -- or at least she looks bigger than I remember. And she has this healthy glow about her from being outdoors --and probably from not being sick since she spent the trip on an antibiotic for a sinus infection and an antacid for reflux, which is now the latest diagnosis as to why she's been having incidents of coughing followed by throwing up. She didn't get that scrap on her chin until after she got back and went on a walk with me. She ran when I said stop and was too busy laughing at mommy having to chase her down the street in flip flops that she lost her footing and skidded across the sidewalk on her chin. Not a move I would ever recommend.

While she was gone, she learned a ton of new words and started to string three words together. She isn't talking much around the house but I think that's just her way to get a bit more attention around the baby. She didn't even seem all that upset to see that he is still here. But she is really connected to Rick again and follows him everywhere. I made sure when Grandma DD left this morning to have her tell Ada "bye-bye" and explain that Ada was staying with Mommy and Daddy. She was acting a bit cold to DD for fear that DD would take her back home after she just got us back.

It's rumored that she was a great little camper, only getting car sick once which resulted in her throwing up on Aunt Terri's DVD player. Oops! She did slip off her air mattress to end up in a heap of blankets at the bottom of the tent a few times -- they were on a hill so that is to be expected. And she quickly learned a love for the lake and boats and all things Grandpa Rich as he became her Daddy replacement for the duration of the trip. She really loves the men in our family.

Moral of the story: If you ship your child off for more than a week, prepare to see measurable changes in them upon their return.

Introducing Iain Kerr

Early Monday morning June 21st, at 6:11 to be exact, Iain Kerr joined our family to make us a foursome. At 8 lbs, and 21 inches long, the first thing he did outside the womb was pee on the doctoress who delivered him. Sorry about that Doc.

So far, so good. His name, Iain, is the Scottish version of Ian, pronounced E-an, and is a derivative of John. Labor and Delivery went well. I got through it without the help of any drugs or intervention, which, now that it's still fresh in my mind, was no easy feat. Natural birth isn't for everyone.

Dad likes him. Ada seems to be taking a liking to him. I'm thrilled to be done with pregnancy, childbirth, and maternity clothes. I'm excited to be able to enjoy my children and start the next phase of our lives together as a family. I have a feeling it is going to be a fun trip.

Moral of the story: Bringing home a baby is an adjustment with many good memories to be made.

Ada's First Cultural Lesson

Being an educator all his life, it's in Bobpa's blood to make sure Ada learned something during her time in Lake Geneva. What better way to learn than with some Saturday morning cartoons......en Espanol!

Apparently, he also taught her a new game involving her silky pajama pants that somehow makes the leather couch into a sort of slide. Never a dull moment.

Moral of the story: An opportunity to enhance a child's learning should never be overlooked. Even if it isn't in their native tongue.

A Windy Easter Sunday

The final leg of Ada's whirlwind weekend with Grandparents was a trip back into the city for Sunday Brunch. DD brought her back in our car and Bobpa lead in his car so they'd have transportation home. It worked out quite nicely for us since we didn't have to go anywhere and just had to give up our car for a few days. Thankfully we have public transit.

As with any trip home for Ada, the first half hour is spent unloading all of her loot. Somehow, she's got these grandparents all suckered into buying her cute things. They justify it by this being a holiday and Spring and she's outgrowing her Winter wardrobe. I think they forget that I have 1050sf and only one room of that belongs to Ada--and will soon be shared with her little brother-to-be.
This time her loot included new clothes, three new pairs of shoes, socks, an unidentified stuffed animal, Easter baskets, an Easter hat, dress, and sweater, a book, a coloring book, candy, a Spring jacket, and surely a few things I've forgotten.

Since it was such a nice day, we decided to walk to the restaurant, Mon Ami Gabi, across from the Lincoln Park Conservatory. Ada again got a good deal since she only had to walk a few blocks and then hopped into her awaiting chariot, chauffeured by Bobpa.

Lunch was nice, minus the micro burst tornadoes that carried away our menus, broke drinking glasses, stole my napkin, took Ada's masterful artwork and crayons several tables away and tried to steal Bobpa's jacket from the back of his chair three times. It was really windy and the wind block on the fence couldn't stop the powerful swirls that kept us on edge waiting for the next burst to blow our meals away. At least the food was good and the rest of the family enjoyed the bloody mary bar so that made up for the wind, mostly.

After several attempts, I was able to get in this decent photo of Ada's Easter dress and hat. Don't look too closely or you might notice the 12 inch stripes of blue crayon she added to make it her own. I'm not ruling out a career in fashion design in her future just yet...

The walk home was a windy one, but Ada didn't seem to mind... until she got to the corner and ran out of energy.

Bobpa kept her from blowing away and tucked her into the stroller for the trek home. Not surprisingly, she passed out on the way.

Moral of the story: It's hard work being spoiled, but well worth it for everyone involved.

Hoppy Easter

Ah...
So smart of me to ship Ada to the Grandparents' for the weekend.

It took a ton of coordination (okay, an hour maybe), but boy was it worth it.

A huge thanks to Great Aunt Terri for driving Ada out to Sycamore and for signing songs to her until she passed out at Rt 59. (I'm not sure who had more fun. Terri was pretty excited...maybe she always wanted a little girl???)

Another huge thanks goes to Grandma Ba and Grandpa Rich for swooping her up and entertaining her for day one. Rumor has it that Ada had fun testing out the cushions on the couch shopping trip. And her Easter egg hunt at home prepared her for the real deal Saturday morning in Lake Geneva. She had to show those Wisconsin Cheeseheads how it's done.

My only question is...who is the yellow animal in the green dress? I know it's a character from a Dr. Seuss book and it came from Kohl's, but I can't find a name of the thing for the life of me. I think it's a bird of some sort, so she remains nameless...
And a final big thanks goes to DD and Bobpa for venturing to Lake Geneva with a two-year-old in tow. Not an easy feat, but one they made look super easy (which secretly enrages me since Ada's been such a little devil for me lately and she got rave reviews from all of the grandparents, including being referred to as an "angel". Is it possible that they are blinded by love?)
In Bobpa's house, you can't go Easter Egg hunting on an empty stomach. Turns out Ada likes his cooking (and I think he likes cooking for her, too.)

After a rain delay in the park and relocation of the big event to the dry indoors, DD, Bobpa and Ada arrived just in time for the hunt to begin. Somehow, DD rigged it so Ada got in with the "Under 2" category and could dominate the competition with her 3 month age advantage and towering size. She came out with 5 eggs, 2 of which she shared with a little boy who had none. That's the spirit DD! Get her nice and rich and teach her how to donate to the less fortunate. Now all she needs is the "Future Philanthropist" bumper sticker on her tri-cycle.

I'd say the hunt was a huge success since one of the eggs had a coupon for a free treat from Culver's inside. Lucky duck.

Then there was the photo opp with her newest furry friend. This is also DD's maiden voyage with my camera so I have to give her credit for getting it in focus and not cutting Ada's head off. She gets a B+ for her first attempt.

All in all not a bad 2 days for Ada.

Rick and I on the other hand...I guess it really isn't the other hand if we had fun too. We had our first date in months as we kissed Ada goodbye and wished her well on her Easter adventure. Thursday night was an average dinner at a local pub and early to bed. Friday I got a ton of work done, and laundry too. I met up with Rick and his co-workers downtown for happy hour at the Lakefront Brewery Rooftop. His thoughtful co-workers found me a chair since they felt bad for the preggo having to stand at a bar drinking lemon water as they partook in the local fare. So sweet of them.

Then we went for a fabulous dinner at La Scarola, an Italian family restaurant on Grand near Halstead. I had the best Sea Bass I've ever eaten. So delicious. And then we came home and grabbed a slice of banana chocolate cake from the Bagel Deli near our house and nursed that over the next 3 days whenever my sweet-tooth craving kicked in.

Saturday we went to breakfast at a local diner on Clark (The Golden Nugget) that was AWFUL. So beyond bad we should have just left. At least now we know better. It was rainy and I wanted to try something new, but close since we didn't have a car. That was our best solution as I thought a friend had recommended it. Clearly I was imagining the recommendation. We won't make that mistake twice.

Luckily, we made up for it with a trip downtown to see Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland -- in 3D! I'm sad to admit, but it was our first 3D movie since the new technology has become so popular. I was shocked by the ticket prices and almost fell over at the kiosk. Yaozers! But it was worth it. We are crossing our fingers that Avatar comes back to IMAX in 3D at some point so we can see that one as it was meant to be seen since a 3D flat screen TV isn't in our near future.

My mishap of the weekend involved a bit of spilled water -- typical me. I forgot to check my SIGG bottle to be sure the lid was fastened securely inside as I filled it with water from home to take into the theater. I stuck the bottle in my purse and hopped into a cab. Poor Rick was worried my water broke in the back seat since I slid out at our destination and the seat was drenched. I quickly assured him it wasn't me, or the umbrella, but my water bottle. The contents of my purse weren't spared, including my library book and a membership application to the Shedd Aquarium (How ironic--I wonder if a place full of water would accept a wet check?). Whoops. I'll be making a donation to the Chicago Public Library here in the near future to make up for that poor book. It did air out nicely at home so it wasn't a complete loss.

And the final highlight of our weekend was a trip to a new local restaurant that knocked our socks off. Chilam Balam is a new place that opened just a few months ago and is super close to our house(yeah!/dangerous). It's BYOB. They use sustainable ingredients from local farmers=tasty. And the food is delicious -- Mexican inspired tapas. The waiters all wear t-shirts from Threadless, which happens to have its first retail store 30 feet south of the restaurant (way to support a local business!). And, of course, we had dessert. The chocolate mousse cake with some sort of creamy goat cheese inside and an orange sauce with marshmallow something on top...whatever it is, it's delicious. And I'm a fan of the virgin sangria. YUM!

Somewhere amongst all of that eating, we watched Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes and thoroughly enjoyed it. I'll admit that the critics had tempered my hopes of it being anything close to good, but I was delightfully surprise and entertained.

I also managed to get a ton of work done so I could meet my Wednesday work deadline. Whew. All in all, an awesome weekend... and we haven't even made it to Sunday yet...

Moral of the story: If you have the good fortune of loving family members nearby, bless them with your children so you can again experience freedom and maintain your sanity.

Thank Goodness for Family Nearby

I've been so burned out this past 2 weeks since I got back from Minneapolis that I just needed some time to catch up... on sleep, housework, work, relaxation, and just un-bury myself. I'm writing this at 3 am so the sleep thing isn't working yet, but I'm optimistic.

In my burnout mode today at work, I figured out a way to have Rick's Aunt take Ada and our car out to Sycamore (she works downtown and commutes via the train usually) for the weekend. Ada's spending the night with Rick's parents, then going to see my mom and dad tomorrow to spend the weekend with them in Lake Geneva, and driving our car back here on Sunday for Easter brunch. I get 2 days of peace and quiet to get stuff done, albeit without a car. I have a massage scheduled, and don't have to travel for Easter, or cook even since my dad is taking us to Mon Ami Gabi. Whoopie. Too bad I can't sleep. I'm hoping that gets better tomorrow once I have a full day's worth of getting stuff done under my belt.

Of course, I have 2 deadlines next week for work and am nowhere near close to meeting them. Awesome! At least I can see the surface of my desk at home. And now that I don't have to chase, tickle, reprimand, cuddle, or entertain Ada for 2 days, maybe I can kick up my feet and relax the belly. It's been giving me more pain and I just fear the Dr telling me I have to "take it easy" or go on bed rest for a bit. I really don't know how people do that, but I sure don't want to have to find out. And I'm sure it isn't anything bad. Likely just a pulled groin muscle that I just have to deal with, but it still hurts and I'm exhausted.

Moral of the story: Live near family when you decide to raise children. You just can't do it alone.

Much Too Fun To Stop For A Photo

Anna was here a few weeks ago and I never got a chance to upload my attempt at taking cute photos of her visit.

I must say "attempt" because these ladies were having too much fun to stop and pose for me.

There was the bath that turned into a one hour swim party, complete with underwater kissing rubber duckies. (Ada was having a blast contrary to what this photo my suggest...)


And then there were the movie movie watching parties. Ada was too busy drinking her water and watching the movie to stand up next to Anna or put the sippy cup down.

I take full blame for only having these few lame pictures since I didn't pull out my camera until late in the day and by then they were too distracted to care.

Moral of the story: Sometimes, even the Mom-arazzi need time off from taking pictures.

The "Loss" Entry

I don't consider myself to be on the extreme ends of being a public or private person. I like to think I'm middle of the road and keep most of the gross personal stuff that happens to me to myself. That's why I've debated writing about having a miscarriage since it happened last July. Sometimes you want your personal business to stay personal. That wasn't how it all went down, and even though it's a really touch subject for some people, I think writing about it might give me some closure and more likely, help those of you who may have experience one or more in your past. So here it is... I'll try to spare you the gory details.


First off, what helped me most through this whole process was meeting other moms before I even had Ada who had had miscarriages in their past. Statistically, they say 50% of women have a miscarriage sometime in their lives, but many of them happen before the woman even knows she's pregnant. According to my Doctoress, it's closer to 70% and maybe even higher. The pregnancy books will all tell you that it tends to happen in the first trimester, i.e. the first 12 weeks. Mine was 1 day shy of hitting the 12 week mark.


The other thing that helped me was reading Blink by Malcom Gladwell that taught me to trust my gut instinct above all else. Listen to that little voice within that tells you something isn't right. Something about the pregnancy felt funny to me, so much so that I hesitated to tell my co-workers and bookclub, and several of my close friends. I also kept putting off getting my blood work done. It just didn't seem like the pregnancy was going to stick. Unfortunately I was so excited when the pee stick turned into a plus sign, and I didn't have the funny feeling yet, I immediately told my mom and Rick's mom and they can't keep a secret if it would save the earth from impending doom... they are just way too excited about having more grandchildren -- which I don't blame them for. They are grandmas after all and that's what grandmas do. I'd be ticked off if they weren't excited. So, everyone and their mother (in our families anyway) knew we were pregnant from the get go. Yikes.


For many women, a miscarriage just happens and they don't even know about it until they go in for an ultrasound or an appointment to hear the heartbeat and the Doctor has to give them the "I'm sorry mam, but this pregnancy isn't viable. You've had a miscarriage." or something similar to that I imagine. For people who don't know how common it is and can't name off 10 people they know that have had one, that can be more than overwhelming.


It was different for me, and way more gross. (WARNING: If you're squimish, skip to the next paragraph). I started spotting just a little bit. Called the Doctoress. "Statistically, you should be fine. If you heard the heartbeat at 8 weeks, your chances of miscarrying are about 10% so go home and rest." I tried to be optimistic but it wasn't really helping. I was a basketcase. Really quite worried. I rested. Spotted a bit more a few hours later. Then about 2 in the morning I woke up to the worst cramps I have ever felt in my life. At 4:30 am I called the Doctoress' emergency help line, paged the Doctor on call and he told me "If you start bleeding heavily, go to the Emergency Room and have them call me." Sure enough, not five minutes later, Niagra Falls started, only it was red and clumpy. It was awful. Beyond awful. I kept my wits about me since I knew what was going on and actually had read about something similar in a novel, Luscious Lemon by Heather Swain, about a chef who got pregnant and miscarried while her boyfriend was out of the country. I knew to look for the embryo to pass (or whatever they call a baby at 12 weeks) and when I saw it, I considered setting it aside for the Doctor to look at but that creeped me out and I was bleeding so much I didn't care enough to deal with it at that point. I was beyond the whole "I just lost the baby" and was now into "Holy shit, that's a lot of blood."


Thankfully, we have a neighbor upstairs that goes to work at 5 am and his wife doesn't work. I quickly got my husband to run up to their door and wake her up to come watch Ada while he took me to the hospital. I'm barking orders from the bathroom while he is trying to get someone to watch Ada. He's not the fastest person in the world (at least in my mind when I think I'm bleeding to death) so it took longer than I had hoped. He got me pants and an old bath towel and went to get the car. Our neighbor came down and I explained she should avoid the bathroom carnage at all costs and just feed Ada a banana and some milk when she gets up. Our neighbor was super nice, and sorry for our loss and just said she'd take care of Ada and not to worry. Thank God for the angels in our lives right?


So we get to the hospital. They check me out. Yep, that's a lot of blood. They transfer me up to the baby floor and do a D and C - often wrongly called (by me) a DNC since that's what it sounds like. They go in, clean everything out and poof, you're all better. You just have to wait for your blood work to say your body no longer thinks it's pregnant and "reset" before you can try again. It's a bit like hitting control alt delete on your computer... but not.


Then I just had to take it easy for a few days. My only side effect was killer headaches, which I solved with caffeine. A coke a day and lots of chocolate and tea. It was totally manageable. Luckily, we were set to go to Lake Geneva for my Aunt's annual birthday vacation at the lake. My whole family was there and was very supporting. I got the best hug from my dad I've ever received in my life - I'll never forget that he pulled me in close, rubbed circles on my back and held me longer than usual. That's big for a guy who doesn't openly show affection. I know he loves me but he isn't one to show it much so when he does, it's really powerful. From that moment on, I knew everything was going to be okay.

Now for the funny part. I'm an optimist, remember? I'll find the silver lining in anything.

That neighbor from upstairs that watched Ada while I was at the hospital, remember her? Well, it turns out that she's never babysat before, doesn't have nieces and nephews, and is pretty much clueless when it comes to kids. I think my instructions upon leaving were to just "keep her safe and alive". Thankfully, she has a wonderful mom and lots of friends who know about kids. My thanks goes out to all of them for answering her calls (I assume most of them are on the east coast so it wasn't that early for them) as she frantically looked for answers as to what to do when Ada woke up. Her mom thought Ada might wake up pissed off and wonder why there was a stranger in her house, but she doesn't know Ada. Here's our neighbor all worried, waiting for Ada to wake up and then Ada starts to stir. Krissie goes in and is met with, in typical Ada fashion, all smiles. Ada's bouncing in her crib, holding on to her Yertle the Turtle and happy as a clam. Nothing like what Krissie expected.

I'm not sure how the diaper change went down, but I assume just fine. Then it was time for Ada's banana. Krissie spent a few minutes mincing the banana into small pieces so that Ada wouldn't choke, just as her mom and her friends had advised, only to be shocked again. Ada grabbed the rest of the banana Krissie wasn't chopping and shoved the whole thing in her face. Gone in an instant. That's my girl! Who needs to chew?

The look on Krissie's face when she told me the story a few days later was hilarious. She told that story for weeks, and surely still does. It was so cute. I'm thankful that she now thinks all kids are cute and wonderful and happy-go-lucky. Boy is she in for a surprise when she has kids of her own.

Moral of the story: Miscarriages are natural, common, and our body's way of protecting us or ending something that just isn't right. Instead of allowing them to crush our spirits, accept them for being a mysterious blessing. It's not an easy view to take, but one that I found to be easier to accept and survive with in the long term. And know that you aren't alone.

Ada's First Swear Word

Two is a little young to start swearing, I agree. I'm guilty of swearing more than my fair share. I've never really seen what the big deal is about it. It's just another form of expression. Sometimes I agree that intelligent people don't need to swear since they can express themselves without the need for curse words. Sometimes I say screw that theory because I'm too mad to be smart and need to express myself anyway. So there.

Now I'm trying to really be better about it since I have a mini parrot shadowing me and mimicking my every word. (I secretly think I'm addicted to swearing since I've been trying to quit for several years now and it isn't working, really, not at all.)

It's neat when Ada all of a sudden says something like "outside" after I say "let's go outside". It's not so neat when we are at Granny's house waiting to put up her tree when Ada drops something in the kitchen and says "Oh, shit!" clear as day. Now I must admit, I don't think she learned that one from me. I'm a fan of the more severe swear words and "Oh, shit!" just isn't common in my vocabulary. Grandma DD on the other hand... well, that's really the only swear word she uses and it typically surfaces when she's just burned whatever it is she's cooking (which can be frequent) but she's "a lady" as they say and rarely drops the F-bomb or any other swear bombs for that matter. Something I can aspire to... someday.

To avoid a repeat performance at upcoming family holiday dinners, I've been saying "Oops!", "Uh-oh", and variations on that theme as much as possible, even when not really necessary. And I find myself using more "this F-ing stinks", and "SH--scheiße, damn, it still counts if it's in German, Shoot! I mean, darn!"

Dag nab it!

We'll see how this goes but don't set your expectations to high. I have a long road ahead of me.

Moral of the story: Swearing around children is bad. Fixing that bad habit is worse. Good luck with that.

Christmas Tree Hunting

A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go, high ho a dairy o, a hunting we will go.

This year was the last year for Sinissippi Farm in Oregon, IL to be open for Christmas Tree hunting. The owners are retiring and their kids all have "real jobs" so, at this time, it's over. We had insider knowledge of the closing so my sister-in-law flew in for one last hunt with the family.

All of these people went to get one, yes only one, Christmas Tree.

The day started with the drive to Oregon, which is about 40 minutes or so. Or it really started with layers of socks and long underwear for me but let's not think about the cold.

We arrived and cuddled up to the fireplace in the gift shop. Once everyone else got in it was time to begin the hunt. Here's Ada getting her gloves secured for the hunt. Rick's parents bought their tree tag and we headed out toward the tree rows. Then we noticed the horse drawn wagons and we were just going to pet the horses when all of a sudden, the next thing you know, we're all on the wagon going for a ride and being delivered at the white pine tree section.

We unloaded from the wagon and began critiquing nature's work in search of the "perfect" tree. After much searching, debating, and judging, we finally selected a tree that was just right. The boys were getting ready to saw it down when Aunt Terri said "Where's Aunt Connie?" "We must have left her back at the gift shop."

Oops! As it turns out, Aunt Connie was going to do some shopping in the gift shop and catch up with us amongst the trees when she was done. Unbeknownst to her, we were on the other side of the river looking at trees since that's where the horses dropped us off.

Out come all of the cell phones with their various carriers and, of course, only one has service but that person doesn't have Connie's number so they enter Connie's number and try to call her and, of course, she doesn't answer. (Come to find out later that she didn't recognized the 312 number so she didn't answer it. Silly Aunt Connie!)

Meanwhile, I'm flagging down the horse carriage as it approaches to ask the passengers to watch for Aunt Connie when they get back to the main tree shaking area and let her know where we are. I give a brief description of her and they say "we'll try." "Thanks!" is my reply.

The guys are now cutting down the tree. Heather and Grandma Ba head back to the tree lodge on foot to find Aunt Connie. And the rest of us wait for the tree march where we all follow it back to the lodge.

While we were marching back with the tree, it turns out that Heather and Grandma Ba had been picked up by the horse carriage and were headed back to the lodge when Heather spotted Aunt Connie, lost among the trees. She says, "Hey, there's Aunt Connie!" and the driver says "Where?" Heather points her out and the driver yells "Hey Aunt Connie! They're over here!" to the ensuing laughter of the entire carriage of tree hunters. All was well with the world again.

Once we got back to the gift shop/tree lodge, the tree was put in line to be shaken and the rest of us headed in for homemade cider donuts, hot apple cider and coco, and a little someone had her first meeting with Santa. And since she's such a social little gal, she thought he was pretty cool and was just a little confused by his big beard.

Moral of the story: Family traditions make some of the best memories. Be sure to create fun traditions of your own to make the Holidays more than just a commercialized, materialistic frenzy.

Save a lock of hair...

This is a weird tradition to me. I don't know why people save a lock of hair from their children. Maybe for DNA testing for some shady unforeseen circumstance these days but where did it stem from? Why does my mom have some of my hair tucked into a little box somewhere in her dresser drawer? And why has she kept if for 30 years? And what the heck am I supposed to do with it?

My Aunt Lin gave me a little container for Ada's first tooth and a lock of hair. Another Mom I know insisted on me saving one of Ada's locks. Since I had the box and strong peer pressure from older, wiser mothers, I did it. I cut a lock of Ada's hair and shoved it into the little box and it sprayed all over the place as I jammed it in -- how long is a lock supposed to be anyway? What is a lock? This is so beyond my basic mom knowledge and instincts. Do they do this for little boys too or is that unmanly? Is Tony Romo's lock of hair in his mom's underwear drawer? I find that to be a little weird.

I will say, now that I have the lock safely tucked away, that I should have put more thought into this than just making it an item on my checklist to do and check off. You see, I just grabbed the scissors, went up to Ada, trimmed a chunk out of the back of her head and shoved it into the box. It was too long to fit in the box. I likely trimmed off too much. And I took it from the top layer, back right side of her head about halfway down. It didn't dawn on me until after I cut it that maybe I should have taken it from a less conspicuous location-- like from the bottom layer near her neck or somewhere in the middle in case she wears a ponytail anytime soon. Not that she lets me do anything with her hair anyway...

So it's done. It's officially off the list --but mainly so I can answer "yes" when accosted by moms demanding to know if I've saved a lock of her hair. I think it puts me into the "your a good mom" category in their heads for some reason and it seems like a small price to pay for entry into that club. And, some days, I need all of the help I can get.

Moral of the story: Save a lock of your child's hair, or lie and pretend that you did, no one will really know the difference since no one ever checks -- just take it from an inconspicuous location when you do.

My Friday Before Dinner

It's Friday. I've invited my college buddies over for dinner and what started out as just us and my friend Bob for dinner, turned into us three, Bob, Vern, Cara, Alex, Kim, Ted, Alison and Will. Sweet. We tend to have trouble finding time when we can all get together and this impromptu thing ended up working out really well.

Knowing that I can't cook, I arranged to order pizza and have it arrive about 6:45. Everyone planned to arrive around 6:30 or 7 and that seemed like as good a plan as any. We've learned from past dinners that if we don't pre-order, we starve while waiting for the food and then don't have time to play a game afterward, which is really what this is all about. Having fun with old friends, and playing games.

I had a few errands to run before picking Ada up so I left work at 4:30. I went to the ATM, then went to a different bank to make a deposit for the condo association. I have two letters in my hand that I need to mail. Previously, when making the condo association bank deposit, I though I had inadvertently put the envelope I keep the ATM card in, into the mail drop box with a bill I was mailing then. That resulted in me being distracted and telling the story about just how I'd lost the card when Ada fell down the back porch stairs. Yikes. Don't want a repeat of that. (It turns out that the ATM card was in an envelope on the kitchen counter the whole time.)

This time, I again have letters to mail so I crossed the street to deposit two bills into a postal drop box and re-crossed the street to be on the south side for the entry to the El train home. As I'm waiting for the light, it dawns on me that I can't remember where I put the ATM card. The light turns in my favor and I cross the street while quickly, not frantically but concernedly, digging in my purse for the ATM card envelope. I know it's there. I just can't find it under all of the crap I have. Why do I have a sippy cup, a diaper, wipes, and goldfish snacks in here? How the heck am I supposed to find...SMACK!

Oh no I didn't. Oh yes you did.

While intensely focusing on the contents of my purse, I continued to walk toward the El station and completely lost all awareness of my surroundings and walked straight into...wait for it...A BUS SHELTER. Thunk. My calf, knee and head all connected with the advertising side of the small structure.

"Oh My God. I did not just do that", I think.

"Oh yes I did." I start laughing uncontrollably. Then I realize, "What if there is someone waiting for a bus? They must think I'm an idiot."

I peer around the corner of the shelter. Yep. Hi there. In my head I'm saying, "That was me who just walked into the side of this place. Sorry about that. Hope I didn't startle you but damn, that's funny." In reality, I shot her a quick glance with the biggest smile on my face and quickly continued on my way down the street. Laughing to myself and at myself the whole way to the El train. Then I laughed even more as I sent my friend Colette a text retelling the event.

But that's not all.

I got Ada, got home and all but forgot about the previous "incident", putting it in my back pocket for a funny story later on. It was time I focus on cleaning up the last bits of things that are out of place and feeding Ada before everyone starts to arrive.

All is going well. I've done the dishes and she helped me put them away - which I encouraged as I quickly grabbed each glass plate and dish she handed to me from the bottom rack of the dishwasher. Boy was that nerve-wracking but she insisted on helping.

Ada is eating. I'm settled in to watch some Grey's Anatomy on ABC.com (since we don't have cable). I've supplied Ada with a gourmet dinner of bagel, goldfish crackers, graham crackers, turkey, and apple sauce. And I've just dumped out our old milk and given her a full cup of milk that tasted okay to me but is on it's last day as well. Why does our milk seem to go bad so quickly these days? I text Rick to have him pick up new milk since our friend Bob is coming over and that man drinks more milk than anyone I've ever seen in my entire life. Multiple gallons in a week. He could have been a dairy cow in another life.

All is well in the world. Rick comes home and greets us. He removes his winter coat (yes, I know it's early October!) and settles in next to us to see what is going on. I have two minutes left on Grey's Anatomy and friends will be arriving anytime now. Ada's finishing up dinner and... then... it starts. As we are sitting around all content with the world, Ada starts throwing up her entire dinner. At first, we think she's just choking on something and is going to spit it out. Then it keeps coming up, and up, and up. She has expelled everything in her stomach. All over herself, the highchair, the floor. Everywhere.

"It must have been the milk. I didn't think it was 'bad' but it clearly wasn't 'good'. Let's clean her up." I mutter as I take her to the bathroom while holding her at arms length, hoping to stay clean.

She is, by this time, hysterical. Screaming. Not quite sure what the heck is going on or why she has her dinner all over her body. I've got her in the tub and she won't let me take her vomit covered shirt off. I'm tugging, she's resisting. Finally I win and get her naked. I turn on the shower and start to spray her down. She's still hysterical.

"Screw it." I think to myself as she reaches out to me, wet, naked, and covered in her regurgitated dinner. She crawls out of the tub and into my fully-clothed, dry clothes and clean arms and cries. I get her to calm down a bit and then decide to join her in the shower to comfort her and get her cleaned up. So what if I have 8 people coming over for dinner in just a matter of minutes. They are such good friends, I practically consider them family.

I'm in the shower with her when I hear the first door buzzer. At least Rick's home to let people in. I'm shampooing her hair for the second buzz. We are rinsing off for the third tone. And we are standing naked, dripping wet and trying to towel off when the pizza arrives. Thankfully I set out money for the pizza guy ahead of time and Bob took care of it all. My kind of house guests.

I passed Ada out to Rick so he could get her dressed again. Then I quickly shuffle around the hall corner to my bedroom to get decent. A quick glance in the mirror reveals that my mascara has run, but overall my makeup is salvageable and my hair isn't too wet. Five minutes and a whole new outfit later, I'm dishing up pizza and enjoying friends.

About an hour later, I remember that good old bus shelter incident and decide it's a great time to share one of my most "blonde" moments ever as tears of laughter gush from my eyes.

Good times had by all.

Moral of the story: The best friends are those that can help themselves and love you just the way you are. And those that laugh with you instead of at you. Just keep laughing at yourself.

Parenting rule to live by: When in doubt, throw it out.

Camels and Ponies and Goats, Oh My!

Grandpa Bobpa decided his granddaughters needed to do something fun this past Saturday in Lake Geneva so he took them on a big adventure to the local petting zoo. The ladies stayed home while the little babes got some quality time with their dads.

Here are a few shots from their trip.

Ada and a Goat (another one seemed to be nibbling her shirt)

Ada on a Pony

Ada petting a Deer

Uncle Rob and Cousin Anna on a Camel

Good times had by all. I wish someone would have gotten a picture of Bobpa with a goat and his granddaughters but that's just me... always wanting more photos.

Ada's First Camping Trip

4th of July weekend marked a big milestone in Ada's life. She went camping for a whole weekend.

I'll admit I was really nervous about packing all of our stuff into our little Honda Civic. Amazingly it all fit. (2 sleeping bags, air mattress, pack and play, stroller, medium cooler for beer, milk, string cheese and grapes, pillows, blankets, Ada, Pooh Bear, Yertle the Turtle, Bunny, Bear, sippy cups, snacks, clothes, more clothes, bug repellent, sun block, swimsuits, hats, sunglasses, a pail and shovel, beach towels, towels, shoes, camping chairs, games, flashlights, Rick, me, etc.) We did have to remove the cooler each time we needed to get Ada out of her car seat because we packed her in pretty good. But that's understandable right?

We camped in Wisconsin at Yellowstone State Park -- not the National Park. That isn't in Wisconsin, unfortunately. After a scenic drive through Rockford via Business 20 (I recommend you don't do that), we stopped for a fancy meal at Subway and ended up picnicking outside as there were no tables available inside. Lucky for us, Ada actually wore her sunglasses for the first time and prevented significant damage to her little retinas. :)

The first night, she decided to wake up to the sound of the tent zipper when Rick and I crawled into bed, and she ended up hogging most of the air mattress. Then she got up early with the owls in the forest, then the crows, and finally every bird known and unknown to man that starts chirping at 6 am. I took her on a butt-crack-o-don walk around the campsite and up a steep hill in her little umbrella stroller. (Can someone invent a motorized stroller already. Gesh! Thank goodness we live in the midwest and it's flat here.)

She had a muffin (or I should say she crumbled a muffin all over my lap) for breakfast. And then had some cantaloupe for lunch.

Then she spent a lot of time running around the fire pit and scaring everyone half to death. We were all on baby fire pit watch to keep her from getting too close. She had a great time going on walks with grandma and grandpa. Aunt Terri cuddled her down for a nice nap. Her schedule was completely off which made things a bit more challenging and poor Rick didn't get much of a break as she stuck to him like a sock on a static filled skirt straight out of the dryer. I'm sure his back is still hurting from holding her that much.

But I think she had fun...

She learned how to chase the light of a flashlight, just like a kitten and a laser pointer. That was entertaining.

And her new favorite place is the beach where she spent a full hour splashing in the water with her dad. She's pretty fearless when it comes to the water. I'm sure she drank a few cups of lake water but it didn't seem to bother her one bit. Now I'll have to step it up and get her in for some swim lessons.

Moral of the story: 99% of the things you stress about in life never happen. I know that but I still worry about packing and forgetting things and if Ada will sleep okay or get sick or eat enough or like the beach or get sunburned or we'll have good weather. Luckily, the odds were with us and she had a great time, stayed healthy and we got to relax with little rain. We'll be going again for a week in August so hopefully the odds will be with us then too.