Tuesday, December 29, 2009

The Activity Table

For those of you that don’t know me well ... I come from a long line (ok … just my brother and I and my parents) of arty people. We like art. All kinds of art. We’re art junkies. We forward links of cool furniture design websites and get goosebumps when the new Design Within Reach catalog comes out, and get all judgey when law suits arise over the correct ownership of paintings from famous artists.

So, it’s probably no surprise to find out that Carter’s first activity table was lovingly made from Herman Miller parts and pieces. And we all wanted to touch it in hopes that Eames had touched that particular piece of furniture as well. We’re that dorky. We really are (ok, at least I am).

So, part of me wants to explain to him that he should wake up every morning and give the Herman Miller table a little kiss or wink – because furniture design is that important to mommy (and was that important in the design world - it influenced every part of design). But then the mommy (realistic) side of me wants him to know that we actually have no designy furniture because I know what a sippy cup (and beer) does to fabric … and I know what this mommy would do if a sippy cup touched a barcelona chair ... and it ain’t pretty.
Someday Carter, you will visit mommy and daddy (after you graduate college – and your 500 siblings are out of the house too) and mommy and daddy will be sitting on wassily chairs sipping coffee happily (ok…Chad would be just as happy (read: happier) on his crappy saggy sectional sofa….sigh…but if he gets his way and gets 500 kids…then I get a freaking wassily chair damnit). And Carter, you will someday understand that furniture design influenced the entire design and art world deeply…and you will get a little tear in your eye because your first activity table was handmade just for you from Herman Miller parts.

I take great pride in that. Thank you Grandpa Jones for making this for Carter. He likes it because it’s a cool place to build legos. I like it because it’s something that means more.

Merry Christmas to All

What's a Christmas Party without Moose Mugs?
Well, the family has left, the leftovers are gone (mostly…ok – mainly the cookies are gone), the Christmas decorations are down (I am seriously married to an obsessive compulsive organizer), and the house is covered in Carter toys.

There was no drama (ok, there was drama…but not at my house…so…I WIN CHRISTMAS…but that’s another story), there were no cooking mishaps (well, my dad had to jump in before I made crappy gravy – gravy was the only thing I had never prepared), there were no travel issues, and everything seemed to go smoothly.
Carter learned a lot this Christmas. How to rip presents open, the power of cookies, how to manipulate multiple grandparents are once, how to get Uncle Andy to read every book in the toy bin, how to catch (we're still working on this one), the one finger rule (we're still working on this one too), that a cute smile will get your family to let you watch Dora the Explorer over and over again ... you know - standard one year old lessons.
The new activity table (which doubles as a car racetrack, lego building center, you name it)

The new tricycle (which doubles as a mommy cardio workout - since he constantly wants me to push him on it)

I have to say, having the whole family to our house, cooking a huge Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner…and being pregnant…well, it had me slightly worried. But…we pulled it off! Go our team!

Everything was seriously great and I'm so happy that Carter got to have both sides of grandparents here.
Now, I have to go stop a tantrum about the new wagon (seriously... I'm tired...i can't pull him for one more wagon ride or push him on one more tricycle ride...where did his books go and doesn't he know that prego mommy can only have one cup of coffee before the sea monkey's head explodes?).

Sunday, December 27, 2009

A little over a week ago, I threw up (who’s excited to read this post?)…

And then I threw up more. And more…and it went on all night long and into the next day. After throwing up for hours, watching your fever slowly go up and not being able to move what-so-ever – we decided to call my doctor to make sure the sea monkey could survive mommy’s apparent stomach flu.

The doctors office said that sea monkey should be ok, as long as I could keep fluids down (which I couldn’t) and my fever didn’t go up anymore (which it did). If those didn’t work out – they had instructed us to go directly to the emergency room and get some fluids via an iv – and have the on-call ob check the sea monkeys heart beat (just to be safe).
So off we went, to the hospital. Imagine my excitement. I guess it’s a good thing we moved to Strongsville – because we had to call in the troops for emergency Carter supervision. Vanessa ran over to play with Carter. And then grandma G came over a little while later to relieve Vanessa and get Carter to bed.
I will say this – props to the hospital for getting us in quickly and hooked up to fluids super fast (and in my own room sans any weird and stinky roomates)...pregnancy really gives you the trump card at the emergency room I guess.

Long story short; after the whole evening was over – I had had three bags of fluid and a bag of potassium (and just about every vein in both arms violated for random blood tests). And now I leaving knowing that I have some potassium issues to keep my eye on (who has potassium issues…what a nose bleed problem to have. I couldn’t be dorkier if I tried - sigh).

The funniest part that came out of the whole debacle: the nurse’s reaction at my follow-up appointment at my ob.

Here is how the conversation went:

Nurse: I see you had to go to the emergency room last week
Me: I did. We were actually instructed to by this office – just to be careful since I thought I had the flu
Nurse: Your records show you were severely dehydrated
Me: Yea, well that happens when you throw up as much as I had
Nurse: But are you drinking water?
Me….staring blankly…is this moron serious?
Nurse: Because pregnant women need water
Me: I. Know. This. I had the flu – and was throwing up
Nurse: But you still need water
Me: I couldn’t keep water down
Nurse: You actually need extra water then
Me….staring blankly again…is there something wrong with her? Should I speak slowly?
Nurse: So are you drinking more water now?
Me (now looking at Chad): Is this for real?
Chad (shaking his head and laughing): yup
Me (giving up): Ok…I’ll drink water
Nurse: A lot of water

So, yea. Nurse obvious wants you all to know…it’s important to drink water. Maybe at my next visit she can tell me not to use methamphetamine when pregnant.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Grocery Shopping

Well, grocery shopping with a toddler...

Dear Giant eagle shoppers – if you happened to have heard a toddler screaming “DaDa DaDa ….Duck Duck Duck Duck….GO GO GO GO” non-stop for almost 2 hours during your last shopping experience…I truly apologize.

My child likes to yell sometimes. What you may have missed (if you only heard him) is that he also took off most of his clothes in the grocery store and also threw butter at one person and cheese at another (while giggling). And then to top it all off…he picked his nose and wiped it all over my sweater.

Again… sorry. But in his defense…I made him sit in a cart for almost 2 hours…what can you expect?

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Our Christmas '09 Photos

Many of you will see some of these photos on our Holiday cards (if UPS ever decides to deliver the cards).

These were all taken by a professional photographer - at our house.

Happy Holidays!

A glimpse at the inside...

According to a reputable baby website...this is what the Sea Monkey looks like on the inside this week (if you would like to know the name of the website - feel free to email me ... it's a wonderfully informative site).

Thursday, December 10, 2009

The Great Sippy Quest

This is just a small sampling of the plethora of sippy cups that have taken over our house. Why do we have so many you wonder, because we have not yet found the perfect sippy. And we fully intend to find the perfect sippy.

One that doesn’t leak, one that isn’t easily broken when thrown against a wall in a toddler tantrum, one that Carter can’t unscrew the top off and pour on the dog, one that isn’t hard to drink from, one that mommy can accidentally step on (when carrying laundry) without breaking, etc.

It’s the little victories in life that really matter…and this one matters to this mommy (read: this mommy is sick of mopping the kitchen and foyer floor every other day, and hates that she has to steam clean the juice out of carpets weekly - i'm comin' for you sippy industry).

Maybe this is something to remember when I am not pregnant...I dare you to remind me...DARE YOU

I lost weight. I am officially in my second trimester – and I actually have lost 3 pounds in the last three months. How is this possible when you’re pregnant – you wonder…because pregnant women can’t drink beer.
Yup, I have lost beer weight. Is this a valuable lesson I should have learned? Maybe. But I still miss beer. Umm…beer. Especially during Christmas Ale season. BEEEEEER

Does this mean, if I drink more martinis (when not pregnant) that I would be ok?

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Christmas Tree - Meet Toddler ...Toddler - Meet Christmas Tree

This is really our first year of being truly aware of our Christmas tree. Every other year we picked our trees based on height, cuteness, fullness – aesthetics.

This year we wanted our tree to fit 3 basic needs:
1.) Something relatively soft so it wouldn’t prick curious little hands
2.) Something that didn’t look too huge or too heavy – for when Carter knocks it over (and we know this is inevitable)
3.) Something that would more or less fit in the room

So we went on our tree quest (and mommy couldn't resist a few cute picture opportunities)
Carter, looking super happy to be crammed in this random sleigh...

Carter and daddy looking mildly annoyed with mommy's camera...Carter, on a cart for shrubs (our containment solution)
Actually very happy about the cart...he likes anything that moves (especially anything that he can ride or drive)
Back to running...
Picking his favorite tree. Oddly enough - he actually did pick the tree that we ended up buying (and then my husband talked the tree salesperson down in price...by a lot).

Note to husbands that would like their wives to get pregnant:

If you think your wife is crazy now…just wait. A pregnant wife is like living with a psychopath…a hungry hungry psychopath.

In our defense…we (I’m speaking for all pregnant women right now) can’t help it. We’re pregnant. We have literally lost our minds.

So, before you decide that it would be great fun to get pregnant…mentally prepare yourself. Because you will have to deal with breakdowns, random ups and downs, weight gain, south moving boobs, hair and skin changes, more breakdowns (over nothing), tears, extra help around the house, a ton of support, you name it….and that pregnant wife of yours will throw it at you.

But before you go feeling all bad for yourself for having to deal with a psychopath…just put yourself in your psychopath’s shoes. Because YOU don’t have to deal with extreme weight gain, uncontrollable mood swings, new insecurities, more mood swings, stomach, back, and all other body part pains, pooping problems, more pooping problems, ugly hair, cramping during the night, peeing CONSTANTLY, eating weird shit that you would normally never eat…the list goes on and on.

So…my point is…if you want your wife to get pregnant…prepare yourself. And then deal with what she throws at you. Because she can’t help how crazy she is. You on the other hand…can help how extra nice you are and if you play your cards right…she won’t pour ranch dressing and pickle juice on you in your sleep and eat you for a midnight snack.

Note: Nice husbands vacuum while watching the child.

Another note: Nice husbands change poopy diapers no questions asked.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Spaghetti Night

We all have pictures of ourselves as cute little babies covered in spaghetti. Right? Or pudding I guess (some of us have both...thanks mom).
So, being a good mommy…I had to chronicle Carter munching down on spaghetti. I had to. For the sake of future teenage embarrassment, wedding slide shows, you know – all of that good stuff.

So, for your viewing enjoyment…here is Carter on spaghetti night:

And what's dinnertime without a little nose picking...somebody has to get that pasta into places where mommy and daddy can't get it back out.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009


We always joke that Carter is Chad's mini me. And he is. He has looked like Chad from the start.

But I have to say...he has some mommy in him too!