She Laughs at the Days

Okay, maybe not love, but I have definitely developed an intense appreciation for her. My 1/2 hour appointment today extended an extra hour as she talked to me about my depression, made me a homeopathic remedy, gave me really long list of supplements to start taking and basically took a lot of time to make sure I was taken care of. That’s pretty excellent for a health professional don’t you think? I’ll let you know what they are if I notice them working and then maybe other people who are in the middle of this will get some help too. (If they start working my husband may also fall in love with our midwife, because he misses me and isn’t all that fond of the totally other person I become under the influence of pregnancy hormones.) My favorite part is that starting the last month of my pregnancy they come to visit me every week, and after the baby they come to my house until 4 weeks after to do their follow-up care. There’s nothing like lying in your own bed and having them come to you

The kids had a great weekend at their Bema’s house. (Yes the family has weird nicknames; this one is short for Big Ma, or my mother in law.) You can tell they enjoyed themselves by the number of bloody openings their bodies are covered with. The Girl prefers to not wear shoes as she tears around on several (fenced) acres with the dogs, whom she affectionately refers to as wolves since she watched Babe last month, and they are the same breed as the sheep dogs on that movie. The dogs lavish her with affection, and occasionally frustrate her with their over protectiveness. When they decide she shouldn’t go a certain way, or they all want her to pet them simultaneously, they will surround her with their bodies and keep her trapped between them until she screams in frustration and we go running outside and rescue her by calling the dogs. This is part of their inherent herding instinct; small things should be carefully guarded and kept safe. They take their job seriously these dogs she is n

It’s Friday already. This week has been full. Birthday parties will do that. We got the Boy a scooter for his birthday gift. I had no idea he would be able to ride it already, but he took off on it like he’s been riding one all his life. He’s ridden it with me as we go on our errand walks two days this week and I watch him pull away from me in baggy camouflage shorts and skate shoes with a red T-shirt riding with all the confidence of a boy who was born to do this kind of thing. He looks like a miniature teenager from behind and I enjoy the bitter sweetness of watching my child grow up. The Girl has emerged this week in true girl fashion, showing a new gift for organization. I turned around to see why she hadn’t come in yet one day and saw her arranging all of the shoes on our front step into a tidy row, pairs together, all toes facing the same direction. She is now lining up her brother’s cars as well. Today I told them to both clean up their mess while I made dinner. She normally n

This Sunday the kids and I spent the afternoon taking advantage of one of the many great things about living I San Diego, if you can drive to them that is. We went to Mission Bay and played at one of the gigantic playgrounds there near the water while the Genius Husband had lunch with his dad and brothers. It was a perfect day; the sun shone but there was a breeze that kept things cool and big shade trees. I had time to almost complete a sweater I’ve been knitting for the Girl for a very long time while I watched them play. I love the way the Girl now pretends to feed every toy animal she comes across, including the plastic fish on a giant spring who received many generous handfuls of sand to satisfy it’s appetite. The day was even more memorable toward the end because of a little boy who became fast friends with my Boy. They played all of the games together that little boys do, blending into each other’s worlds of make-believe seamlessly. At one point they were playing with two larg

You are suddenly a boy, all traces of the baby and toddler have vanished, except that you still like a hug and to snuggle from time to time, which is good, because I still need them too. Your wrists no longer have that little baby crease in them. You are strong and lean, your body ripples with muscles; you have no baby fat left. I watched you on Sunday when we went out for lunch with friends and family. You sat over at the kid’s table with the other boys, you ate an entire In’n’Out cheeseburger, with nothing on it but cheese of course, and still had room for fries. You were independent and confident, and I was so glad the one moment you remembered me and ran over because you wanted a hug. You are growing up so fast. I love watching you as you gain even more physical prowess. You ride your bike, you do flips, no hands, on my bed and on the trampoline, and you can cartwheel, and roll. You can climb to very high places very fast. You are a fast runner, and you have managed to hurt your

The new blog is up, though it requires much work still, you can go on over and read my first post on shopping for basic pantry items. It’s small joys Friday again, and I’m glad I have started this because it forces my heavily pessimistic self to remember the myriad of ways in which I am truly blessed. This week I had a good talk with a dear friend whom I saw in person instead of on the phone. I held an absolutely delicious baby boy, 2 1/2 months old, and he smiled at me for over an hour. The genius husband volunteered to cook dinner this week, two nights in a row. I finally got my pictures hung again in our new apartment and some curtains. It’s been two months since we moved in. Now it’s starting to look like home. Our TV is gone, because it’s not really ours to begin with. Some friends loaned it to us when we first moved here, and I’ve hated it ever since. I know, I sound a little nuts, let me explain. I like watching TV, a lot; I have the makings of a great couch potato. I gre

Tonight I actually have a chance to be in bed early enough that I may get adequate sleep and not be a total crank in the morning, and want to strangle my children for saying things like, “I want berries in my porridge,” at least one hundred times in an increasingly whiny voice as I prepare their breakfast, after I’ve already said “yes”. That is if I don’t spend too long writing tonight. So, I will be starting another blog devoted to eating nourishing foods, and finding and preparing them, as well as other little health tips I’ve picked up along the way. Anyone with a clever name idea? On that note, I’ve been thinking recently how much I could have learned from my grandmother if I had taken the time to pay attention. When it comes to keeping a house in order, and good food on the table, she is a total expert. Also, I just did laundry for the week, and am completely mystified as to how two or three items that went in looking not too bad came out so stained I’m thinking I should just to

This evening I stood in the cereal isle of Albertson’s feeling paralyzed as I stared at the hundreds of boxes in front of me. All I wanted was Cheerios, plain, whole oat Cheerios. I have been craving them the last several months of this pregnancy, plain Cheerios with milk. Actually, Cheerios would be inaccurate because what I really wanted was Trader Joe’s Oh’s, which taste better in my opinion, and cost 2 dollars less a box. But, as I have mentioned, transportation is a constant problem for me and my beloved TJ’s is too far to walk. I intended to pay the extra 2 bucks for the branding, and go home and eat. Instead, I stood staring. I don’t want a DVD puzzle in my cereal box, neither do I want a free book or any thing else but a plain box of Cheerios. I don’t want to pay an extra dollar to get the book for “Free”. Why is it that I could have gotten a “plain” box of any sugar cereal that I desired, including Honey Nut Cheerios without books and interactive computer nonsense, but a plain

It’s harder this week to find things that have brought joy. I’ve been depressed, and sad and irritated, and tired, wait I’ve just listed all of the symptoms of prenatal depression. It hit me hard this week. But here is what I have. Apples are in season. I know you can buy apples any time of year, but only in the fall can you get new crop apples, that are fresh and deeply colored, and don’t taste a little bit woody. And they are so inexpensive when they are in season. We have been feasting on apples here. Every day my children wake up and help themselves to apples while they wait for breakfast. I love apples; some of my best memories have apples tied to them. Any day visiting at my grandparent’s farm was a good day. Picking apples in the fall was a great day, and eating grandma’s homemade apple pie with ice cream for dessert all adds up to one of my favorite childhood memories. She made these pies for Thanksgiving, often for Christmas, and ordinary days that were made special because

Ever notice how children never just walk anywhere? Why walk when there are so many more interesting, and perhaps dirty ways of arriving. For instance, when the Boy is told to go and pick up something, most of the time he crawls, and rolls, and slides, and drags his head along the carpet enroute to his destination. Do you suppose he does it on purpose, just to irritate the snot out of me? My daughter embarks on similar transportation adventures. She likes to walk backwards until she slams into things, move her head around in circles while making silly faces, somehow this is moving in her opinion. She has a tendency to slide her head along the ground as she crawls as well, which is a bigger problem for her since she has hair, and when she does this 30 seconds after I have finished braiding it, and another 5 seconds before we are getting in the car to go to church or something, it makes it look as though she has just woken up with a gigantic rat snarl on her head and that I am a very ne

This is what life looks like in suburbia when you don’t have a car, and have to wait for other people to drive you places or walk there yourself. I have just cancelled my monthly midwife appointment for tomorrow morning, because my Milly who usually drives me is flying to Seattle with her mother tomorrow to visit an aunt dying of cancer. As frustrated as I feel, um, I’m not dying of cancer, or losing someone close to me to it. I just feel like a 13 year old asking her parents to drive her to the mall, again. So I’m shutting up now. I’ll tell you instead about a different day without a car that happened a couple of weeks ago. It’s my guide to simple errands. 1.) Remember that you have stewing meat in the fridge and need to use it soon, decide to make beef stew. 2.) Realize that for beef stew you need to buy onions, and potatoes, and hey you need several other items at the store, it’s time for a grocery run. 3.) Pull out your trusty double jogging stroller that’s easy to push and carri

This is the last installment in the how I came to marry the Genius Husband saga, and in my opinion the most important. You’ll want to stay until the end because it involves embarrassing yet sweet incontinence. After we were engaged the Genius Husband went kind of nuts for a couple of days, and sort of disappeared, as in got in his car and started driving north on the I-5. He told me later that he was coming to terms with the reality that marrying me meant he could never just pick up and go again, he would always have to think about me too, he would have to be responsible. When you have wanderlust streak as deep and as wide as my husband’s this is a very daunting reality. He can only go so long without needing to be somewhere else, and that place always changes. Before me he could travel the world with what he could carry in a satchel, and enough money scraped together for a plane ticket. Now it would be two plane tickets, and since I’m a girl a hotel to sleep in might be nice, or clea

Misha has been doing small joys Fridays, which were started by crafty momma . I decided to participate this week, mainly because all of these things have been kicking around inside my brain and small joys Friday seemed like the perfect setting for them. You know how laughter changes a person’s face? My normally stunning little girl becomes completely radiant when she starts to laugh. Her face glows and she is impossible to look away from, or to keep from smiling in response. I see perfect strangers forget themselves and come to a stand still when this girl laughs like that, in the middle of Target. And the sound is one of the most delicious in the entire world; it’s deep and contagious waves of joy that roll from her belly. Someday maybe I’ll finally get a picture of this, or manage to record it. My friend moved to Connecticut and left her piano behind in my living room after deciding it wouldn’t survive a trip across the continent through several elevations, temperatures, and clima

Why does my daughter have a belly button obsession? It used to be my belly button that she would dig in incessantly while nursing. While weaning I was often able to trade nursing for tummies to help her fall asleep. Then I got very sensitive when pregnant and couldn’t stand anything touching my stomach, especially not little girl nails and not very gentle rubbing. We quickly traded for her lying next to me or back rubs while I sing “Her Song” a made up tune I randomly hummed one day and now remember. I didn’t realize that she was fondling her own belly button while I rubbed her back, until it got cooler and I started dressing her in layers for the night. Now I have to unsnap the onesie under her jammies so that she can feel it until I’m done humming, and then she wants it snapped back up again. ******** What is this weird rash that she has all over her? It’s been going on for two weeks now. All I know for certain is that it’s not one of the 5 most common viral rashes of childhood, bec

I may have mentioned before that I like trees. Okay that may be an understatement; I’m a little bit nuts when it comes to trees. I just moved 50 yards at a net loss of $900 or more just to be near trees instead of asphalt. The sounds and smells of trees do something for me that little else can do. There is nothing like walking down a familiar street when the breeze suddenly carries the heavy sweet scent of a wet tree. There is no breath deep enough to experience it fully. I have to stop myself from hyperventilating sometimes I’m breathing so rapidly and deeply trying to suck in the smell. Here in CA there are fragrant trees everywhere and a walk in the evening after the dew has settled is like a cornucopia for my nose. The easiest to distinguish are the dogwoods that line several nearby streets. It’s a sweetness that stops just a shade before it becomes flowery, rich and heavy, yet fresh and green, with a hint of cinnamon. There are the tall eucalyptus, with their trade mark scent,

So a week after the Genius Husband, then guyIjustmetandliked, left for India, his dad showed up at my place of residence/place of worship. I was, after all, camping out on the floor of the nursery, in a church, that had once been a bar by the beach. He showed up for the evening service. I was scared out of my wits. I’m terribly aware of people watching me, and I felt certain he had come to watch me, with the slim pretext of taking some Canadian friends to check out our weekly feed all of our homeless friends that lived at the beach too. He thought I might like to meet them. (Yeah right) I made small talk, and then spent the rest of the evening hiding outside with some of the teenagers who were sweet, but too cool to go inside. A week later as I walked out of my living room/church library I was again ambushed. Walking straight toward me was my future FIL and his second son. He says, “Carrien I thought you’d like to meet GH’s brother E.” Then he walked away, leaving me face to face wit