Saturday, May 31, 2008


The house is a mess. A big fat giant mess. I should probably clean the house, and then I should probably post something interesting and witty and chock full of baby pictures. But shoot, the sun is out and I am going to go swimming.
Then maybe I'll come home and clean and write.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Like Getting Punched in the Gut

I have to go to work today for the first time since March 29.
I have to leave in, oh, 6 minutes.
Norah wanted to let me know how much she loves me today so she cried all during church and through most of lunch, she threw up on me twice and pooped out the back of her diaper onto one of my favorite outfits.
Now Norah is asleep in her swing and not on my chest where she belongs.
I think I may cry.
For the third time today.

Monday, May 19, 2008


Well, I don't think I have any stories to tell today, but I do have some pictures to share.

Who knew that my hair was so dark? I sure didn't.

To-date, the best picture of me and Norah. And that person in the
background? My sister Amie, and the spitting image of what I will
look like in 10 years.

Smooshy baby face.

Norah's favorite way to sit with her daddy. Also highlights her
receding hairline.

She finally got to wear her big girl pants! They have buttons
and pockets!

She lost the pants, but she still looks good.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

The Lessons They Learn

One of the most daunting parts of parenthood is the fact that as a parent, I am responsible for teaching Norah foundational lessons about life as a human. Her formative years will be spent with Rusty and me at her side, teaching her, guiding her, letting her make mistakes, allowing her to explore her world and always making sure she has a safe place to come back to. And even though she is only 6 weeks old, we are already in the process of teaching her things, sometimes intentionally, sometimes without even realizing it.

I'm pretty sure I have already taught her an interesting lesson: That every song in creation contains the words "blah blah" and "something".

I have partial songs running around in my head, songs that I like to sing to Norah, but because these songs are partial, I have to supplement with blahblahs and somethingsomethings. How great it will be when Norah goes to preschool and insists that the words to I'm a Little Teapot are actually "I'm a little teapot, short and stout. Here is my handle here is my spout. Blah-dee-blah-dee blah-blah something blah. Tip me over and pour me out!"

Thursday, May 15, 2008

When the Puke Hits the Fan

I had two things I had to get done today. Go to Bible Study at two and go to Dr's at four-thirty. Those two things actually added a number of other things I had to do since I had to get showered, get dressed, get Norah dressed, and feed Norah and myself all by two. Tough work for someone who rarely showers before noon.

I was doing well at 11, I had eaten already and was thinking about showering, but Norah was still awake. We were in the middle of our morning singing time, when she lays on my legs and holds my hands and I sing 'You are My Sunshine' while moving her arms up and down like a wild conductor and Norah smiles like a goofy baby. (I make it sound like we have some kind of daily routine when in reality we do not. Singing in the morning is about the most routine it gets around here.) I decided we would sing one more time and then I would put her to sleep.

But as these things go, Norah (who is really the boss of the house) decided she would rather puke on me than go to sleep.

You know in the Exorcist? When the demon-girl projectile vomits all over the place? Norah did that this morning. In fact, I fully expected her to turn her head completely around and then speak to me in Latin. She didn't spit up, she didn't politely vomit down her front. She spewed, all down herself, all over my lap and the blanket behind us and the couch. And then she did it again, leaving both of us soaked in baby vomit. Luckily baby vomit really isn't very nasty as it consists solely of breastmilk. I sat there for a few minutes, and all I could do was laugh because it really was pretty funny. Norah wasn't bothered by the fact that the two of us were befouled, she looked chipper. And I knew it would make for an excellent blog entry.

Obviously we couldn't sit in puke any longer. I was starting to get cold but for the life of me couldn't figure out how I was going to clean both of us and the couch. Norah was only wearing a diaper because we had experienced a poop issue when she woke up, which ended up being in my favor. But where to start with the puke? Should I put her in the bath and bathe her while I was still soaked? Should I take a shower with her? Should I take a bath with her? Should I shower and then clean her up? And what about the couch? What's a poor mommy to do???

I put her in her bed, then got her bathtub from the guest bathroom where the water pressure is so low it takes 15 minutes to fill an infant tub. Then I went to my bathroom and turned the water on, took off my clothes and put on a robe. Then I cleaned the couch. Next, I started to fill her tub and I changed her diaper and carried her to the bathroom, placing her in her tub. Looking back, I should have bathed her and then put her back in bed while I showered, but clearly I am not very smart.

Bright idea number 1: I climbed in the tub with her, thinking I could bathe myself while she was in her tub because she was close enough to me that I could keep a hand on her. Unfortunately the infant tub was bigger than I thought, so there was no way I could do that.

Bright idea number 2: I took the handheld shower head down, thinking I could shower with it while sitting in the tub. I would still be close enough to her to be safe, but could clean myself too. However, I turned the wrong knob and when the water came out the shower it came out the wrong head and sprayed Norah, which she did not like. Poor baby.

Resigned to the fact that I was not going to bathe myself, I picked her up, dried her face off and washed her as we shared the bathtub with a giant infant bathtub, now sans infant. Besides sharing the tub with the other tub, it was kind of nice, but she hadn't pooped since she ate and I was worried that, given the morning's events, she was going to poop on me and dirty the waters, otherwise we would have stayed in there a bit longer. So I got her out, wrapped her in a towel and then put on another robe.

Around 40 minutes later I got to take a shower and clean myself up. But in the end we made it to both Bible Study and Dr's on time, so all in all, I'd say today was a success.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Top Ten Movies

Matt tagged me in another meme. I still don't know how to say the word "meme". Here are my top ten favorite movies in no particular order.

1. Moulin Rouge (Seriously one of the greatest love stories ever. It makes me all weepy.)
2. Chicago (The scene where all the women are in jail singing about killing their men? I love it.)
3. The Sound of Music (No explanation needed.)
4. The Blues Brothers (Rrrrrrrrrubber Biscuit?!)
5. When Harry Met Sally (Oh. My. Gosh. Brilliant.)
6. Ferris Beuller's Day Off
7. Music and Lyrics (I totally have a crush on Hugh Grant. Don't tell Rusty.)
8. Dumb and Dumber (Yeah, we're in Aspen!)
9. Fried Green Tomatoes
10. Christmas Vacation (Oh I love the Griswolds.)

I tag Ann, Taina, Sarah, Spring, and...let me find one more person who's blog I read...Dad! (I know he doesn't have a blog, but maybe he will comment on my blog with his favorites.)

Sunday, May 11, 2008

It's Called Parenthood

I perpetually smell like Desitin and baby lotion and have become one of those people that can't leave the house without eight bags of stuff. And yesterday I attended a wedding with baby puke covering the front of my dress.

Monday, May 5, 2008

4 Weeks

This post is inspired by Dooce. She is very good about writing monthly newsletters to her daughter, Leta. I like that idea and think I would like to regularly write to Norah about the things she does. Granted, regular may very well mean, randomly or sporadically, but I think being able to let Norah know what life was like when she was a baby will be a great gift later on.

Dear Norah,
4 weeks ago today your dad and I woke very early and made our way to the hospital. 16 hours later we finally got to meet you, and boy were we ready. I was especially ready as the last month of being pregnant with you was not fun. I was puffy and weighed about 45 pounds more than my normal weight. I had a double chin, none of my clothes fit, and you had a habit of sticking your feet in my ribs.

The day you were born there was a thunderstorm. There was a thunderstorm the day after you were born too, and another one the day we took you home. Since then there have been at least two more thunderstorms and one tornado. Clearly you do not share my fear of thunderstorms and tornadoes because you have slept through every single one of them. In fact, the night of the tornado you slept better while we were huddled in the bathroom than you did while you were in bed. Go figure.

Speaking of figures...Our favorite show is What Not to Wear. We regularly sit down to watch it together and laugh at all the funny things Clinton and Stacy say. Ok, mostly I talk to you and you grunt. Watching large amounts of fashion television has brought to my attention the sad fact that I have approximately 8 pieces of clothing that fit my new body. I would be a prime candidate for What Not to Wear. You have become my shopping buddy, and today you talked me out of a pair of jeans that made my butt look saggy and my legs look schlumpy.

I'll tell you the truth Norah, I'm not really sure what to do with my new shape. Clothes just don't fit me anymore, at least not the kinds of clothes that used to fit. I have to buy bigger sizes, different shapes, more grown-up clothes. When I was still pregnant with you, I imagined that I would hate my post-baby body. I dreaded the thought of stretch marks and having to wear a tankini. But now that you are here and your birth brought on stretch marks and the need to wear a tankini, I wouldn't have it any other way. You are worth the frustrations of trying to find clothes that fit.

Buying clothes for you is much easier. Apparently fat bellies and thighs are all the rage when you wear size 0-3months. You know, it's funny, I didn't think I would be a mama that went all crazy over bows and pink socks and teeny dresses. But put me in a room with bows and pink socks and teeny dresses and my voice turns all squeaky and I go into a frenzy and then my head explodes. Girl, you have more clothes than I know what to do with.

Being your mama is quite different than what I expected it to be, in more than just the clothing arena. I'm not the mama I thought I would be. I don't take you on enough walks, and I don't read you enough books. We watch too much TV and don't listen to enough music. I'll try to do better, don't worry Frog Legs. Sometimes I think I'm not a very good mama, like when you cry and I don't know what to do. You get really mad sometimes and your bottom lip shakes and you scream and scratch your face, and when you do that I get scared. I get scared that you don't trust me, and you don't trust me because I don't know what to do with you. I get scared that you have some kind of baby radar that can sense that I don't know what I'm doing. I'm afraid you know that as much as I pretend and act like I have it all together, I'm really just fumbling around blind. But then, when I pick you up and hold you on my chest, you nestle up next to me and you stop crying and sigh a little bit, and then I know. I know you do trust me, and I know you can sense that even though I am a little blind, I really do love you. I love you like crazy and I'm pretty sure that love covers lots of mistakes.

Norah, I have to let you know some sad news too. When you were ten days old your Aunt Wendi died. So as much as this has been a fun month, it has also been a sad month. We all miss your Aunt Wendi, and it makes me sad to think that you won't remember her. She was lots of fun and she threw the best parties. She threw your baby shower and made a cake made out of rolled up diapers. I cried about your Aunt Wendi today for the first time since her memorial service, I think because I was finally ready to write about her, and being able to write about her is my way of recognizing that she is really gone. I wish she was here to see you and see how big you've gotten.

I know you've noticed in your own way that your family has been very sad this month, but I hope that one day you are able to understand what a gift you have been for everyone. I know for your daddy, you have made this a lot easier, just because he is so in love with you. I'm pretty sure that other people feel that way too, that even though they are sad about your Aunt Wendi, they are happy that they get to love on you. It's crazy to think that even though you are only 4 weeks old you have so much power, power to make people happy when they are sad.

We have to remember that Aunt Wendi isn't sad or hurting or sick anymore. She's where she was made to be, with her Daddy in Heaven, and we'll get to see her again.

Norah, you are so much more than I expected you to be. You are beautiful and funny in your baby way and you have crazy hair. This month I have been puked on, pooped on and peed on more times than I can count. This month you have gotten thousands of kisses, and I have not gotten enough sleep. This month has been hard, I've cried and felt defeated. But I love you more than I expected to also. I can't wait to see what happens next month.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

I Blame the Wizard of Oz

Whoever coined the phrase "April showers bring May flowers" clearly was not from Arkansas, because in Arkansas April brings nothing but May tornadoes.

Have I ever told you how much tornadoes scare me? They cause me to awaken at 4 in the morning, yell at Rusty that the siren is going off and we need to hide in the bathroom, turn on the news, assemble the tornado surviving essentials (blankets, a diaper, wipes, and most importantly, SHOES!) in the bathroom, and then sit on the tile, wanting to puke.

You may be thinking, "Oh Sadie, you over-reacting twit" but that would be before you see these pictures.

This is the Asian market that lost it's wall.
You can kind of see the wall caught up in the tree.

Here is a better picture of the wall in the tree.

Norah is clearly underwhelmed.

Here is the top of a light pole. Obviously, that is not
where is belongs.

Big mess in the front yard.

Look! These people got a new aluminum slide from
their roof to the ground!

Thursday, May 1, 2008

The Inevitable

Our home has been over-run with spit-up covered burp rags and teeny pink clothes.

Too Tired to Title

I'm supposed to be doing homework but I wanted to update with Norah pictures. I wanted to email some to my family, but gmail is dead and I cannot. And if I had the creativity to write a fun story I would, but for now I just keep thinking about all the boring stuff I have to do today. Bleh. So here is a filler. Enjoy squishy baby pictures.