Snow Day!

Ah, I feel like a little kid again. Well, a little kid who stayed up until 4 trying to finish Christmas presents that will now be unable to be mailed out anyway, because we can't go anywhere and everything is closed. Including... The Spokane Club! Which means... No work for Maja today! Even sweeter because I was scheduled for a double shift today. All events have cancelled, and it couldn't have come on a better day. I can't wait to take a nap with my warm little baby while it continues to snow, snow, snow. I'm so glad I did so much running around yesterday... It was snowing all day, but we got home just before the traffic got really crazy. There were something like 125 accidents yesterday... yikes.

Now the only thing we really need is for the freaking mall to come to its senses and close... Adam just got off the phone with his manager and it is looking hopeful that he will not have to go in to work. Even big department stores are closing, and there is NO ONE in the mall, obviously. Adam got stuck a couple of blocks away last night (my dad cross-country skied over to try to help, but he was too thoroughly stuck... they walked home) and his car is still getting dumped on. My dad just managed to move my brother Peter's car (which met the same fate at about the same place as Adam's), and he said it was almost impossible. Anyway, cross your fingers that Adam will get to stay home and play with us!

A new record for Spokane-- 17 inches in 24 hours!

Luci felt like having a lounging breakfast today. :)

UPDATE (4:30pm): As you can see, we got our wish... No work for Adam today, either! We finally got outside about an hour ago for Luci's first playing-in-the-snow experience. It was super fun. The whole neighborhood is out shoveling and trying to un-bury their cars, or helping people who get stuck (which is pretty much anyone who attempts to go anywhere :)). I haven't tried out my new cross-country skis yet, but maybe when Luci goes down for a nap I'll sneak back out there!

Snow angels

We put Luci in her old car seat in the sled... It worked until she teetered backward. Not that she cared... She was loving the whole new world of white!

...And then we just plopped her seat in a snow mound.

We made it!!

Well, no, in fact, we did not "make it" to our final destination, or even our intended destination for the day. But the weather was not our friend, nor was the darkness (where the eff where you, daylight???), so we are just exceptionally glad to be alive, whole and unscathed here in our Best Western hotel in Cranbrook.

I am a massive sissy when it comes to the road. I have many intense fears, including but not limited to:
--Semi-trucks--Driving in the dark--DEER AND/ OR ANYTHING RESEMBLING "WILDLIFE" ON OR NEAR THE ROADWAY ("near" including any point within the same zipcode as my vehicle (Did I mention that I passed someone who had HIT AN ELK today?? Oh my god. The beast appeared to be alive, though injured, and was sitting on the road. Either that or it was a cow. I'm not completely sure, but either way: TERRIFYING.)--Curves in the road (my heart skips a beat when I see one of those squiggly arrow signs)--Single-lane highways--Oncoming traffic (or, uh, traffic in general. I get nervous about my fellow drivers on the highway)--Lack of traffic (I panic when driving alone)--WEATHER (in any form. Rain, snow, fog, clouds, pure sunshine, whatever. If it could affect my driving in any way, I fear it.)--Screaming backseat children.

Unfortunately, all of the above were on the menu today, most notably the WEATHER and the DARKNESS. It snowed almost the entire drive. Thankfully, it wasn't too cold, so the snow wasn't sticking. But visibility sucked, and even though the roads weren't icy, there were 80 million signs in middle-of-nowhere North Idaho and British Columbia that said, "Watch for Ice." And I was watching, believe me. I had a heart attack every time I curved a little too sharply and hallucinated about skating on the nonexistant ice.

I have a problem with horrible, morbid, worst-case-traffic-related-scenario thoughts creeping into my brain as I'm trying to stay positive and not hallucinate. It was a major challenge not to let my mind go there as I drove the dark, snowy highway with my sometimes angelic, sometimes not-so-angelic girl in the backseat.

And that is why I called it quits around 6, when we finally rolled into something resembling civilization. We're about an hour from my intended destination today, but I will happily get up earlier tomorrow and drive the extra hour in the daylight. We're about 7 hours away from Edmonton (our ultimate goal), so hopefully Luci can tolerate that much time on the road in one day.

Our hotel has a pool with a waterslide, which was fun for about 20 minutes, at which point I realized that Luci was really never going to warm up, and we headed back to our room for a nice, warm bath. All Luci really wanted to do was explore the toilet-- her latest obsession-- and unravel the entire roll of toilet paper. I feel sorry for the housekeeper that gets this room tomorrow.

I wish I could get some rest, but I've just completed my fourth attempt at getting Luci down, and it ain't happenin'. Something is weird with her lately, and I am beginning to wonder if she's getting a molar. Or, I should say, I am hoping it's something like a molar, lest this be a permanent change in behavior. Bedtime is a nightmare (well, more of one) these days. :(
So we're watching Sesame Street, littering the floor with cracker crumbs, and screaming in our crabby, overtired-but-can't-sleep state.

But HEY! We're in CANADA! On our first ever family vacation! Adam flies up tomorrow, and then the real fun begins.

First Steps!

Luci took her first steps this weekend!

It was sooo cute, and I am so happy that Adam was there to witness this milestone. I have been having a terrible time getting her to go to sleep at night, so she had stayed up on Saturday night until Adam got home a little before 10pm. We were playing with her on the living room floor, and decided to see if she would walk from Adam to me as we sat across from each other. She stood for a few seconds, then cautiously wobbled onto one foot, then the next, and took a few steps, and finally dove into me with wide-open arms. What absolutely melted me was that she let out a little shrieking giggle as she dove into me, and I knew she knew exactly what this meant for her! She was so happy. She has just been dying to walk on her own two feet. Adam and I both burst out in cheers, and she could not have looked more proud of herself.

Then she just wanted to do it over and over again, walking from me to Adam, then Adam to me... And half the time she was just pitched forward, going full speed ahead, diving into our laps-- not so much walking, but loving every second of it. What an amazing, happy, family-licious moment that was. :)

Do the Shuffle

GOOD NEWS!

Well, in a good news/ bad news sort of way, as the news has mostly been bad around my workplace.

The news is: I WILL NOT HAVE TO WORK FULL-TIME IN DECEMBER/ JANUARY/ FEBRUARY as I was scheduled to! I was supposed to cover for my pregnant co-worker, Jordyn, when she went on leave. She had a lot of vacation time racked up, so it would have been about two months. My mom and I were dreading it, and it would have been hardest on Luci. But now, the new bosses are shuffling Jordyn down to Sales, shuffling an accountant who got shuffled to Sales last week up to Catering to take Jordyn's spot, and leaving me where I am (for now). It doesn't really make sense to me, as Jordyn knows Catering well and neither of us knows Sales, nor does the accountant know Catering (so wouldn't it have been easier to shuffle me down there, rather than having EVERYBODY in a new and unfamiliar position??)... But whatev. If they wanted chaos, they have succeeded wildly.

So WOOHOO!

The bad news is that I'm half-expecting to get canned altogether any day, as positions are being slashed left and right. The hospitality industry isn't doing well in this economic climate, obviously, and my Red Lion has undergone some major changes in the two months I've been there.

And it's been an extremely unpleasant place to work lately, as I never feel like I'm doing a good job, and everybody is so stressed out. It still blows my mind that we use such archaic software... and THAT is why everyone is so stressed, I'm convinced. It is so amazingly inefficient. I rarely get my work done in the time I am given, and it's gotten to the point where I feel guilty for leaving on time.

But part of me also thinks that nothing would fix the stress... Maybe these people are stress-addicts and don't function in a positive work environment. They always find SOMETHING to snip at me about (and ohhh do I hate snippiness...), and maybe it makes them feel better. What makes ME feel better is hurrying home in the middle of their day and putting those crazy people and their crazy stress out of my mind. :)

And now, for a complete change of gears, a Robinism. This happened a couple weeks ago, but I forgot to Blog it.

We were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, with Luci up on the table in her Bumbo. My dad noticed that her soft spot was pulsating.

"Isn't that interesting?" he said. He put his finger on it to feel it beat.

Robin was also very interested. She tried to feel it, but it took a minute for Luci to sit still enough for her to feel it.

"WEIRD," she said when she finally felt it. "I can feel her heartbeat!"

"Yep," I said.

"Weird," she said again. Then, thoughtfully, "I wonder why her heart is in her head."

:)

Maybe that's what's wrong with my co-workers...

To Danielle (or other XC Skiing Enthusiasts)

My dear old dad has been dying to get me to go cross country skiing with him this winter. We went to the annual Ski Swap (used ski/ gear/ clothing exchange extravaganza... HUGE event here) last weekend, and got me skis, boots and poles.

So I'M set... But the thing is, he wants Luci to come on these adventures. His first idea was to pull her on a sled. When I pointed out that she is never content to sit and go along for the ride (always has to be standing, movin' and shakin'), he first said, "Well, maybe-- and this may sound mean-- maybe we could let her stand up and fall over into the snow, get a face full, and then she would know not to do that." (I was pretty much at a loss for words. I maintain the hope that he was kidding, but we're never really sure.)

His next idea was to strap her down (duct tape, perhaps) into the sled. I remained unconvinced. So we asked somebody at the Ski Swap if there was something safe to use to tow her. There is, we learned. We also learned it's over FOUR HUNDRED dollars.

My plan all along was to throw her in a back pack (the framed kind, not like Adam's school bag or anything) or my Ergo Baby. But is that even safe? What if I fall? Will she freeze if she's just along for the ride?

On the plus side, she looks good as a marshmallow bear.

Advice?

Thanks for the Heads Up...

or should I say, "Nose Up?"

Alternatively titled: "How I am Learning What Kind of Mom I Am"

I joined my lovely friend Jen for lunch at the Olive Garden yesterday afternoon. I hadn't been there in a long time, and hadn't been out to lunch with Luci in a long time (not since her tranquil, immobile days when I could go anywhere with her happily strapped in her car seat), so I wasn't really prepared for the craziness that ensued. Luci was a terror, though a happy terror. She was doing her "crazy scream" (= happy, not mad) most of the time, which is so cute and funny when we are at home, and much less cute and funny in public to other people who JUST WANT TO EAT MINESTRONE IN FREAKIN' PEACE, if you wouldn't mind.

So after a chaotic meal in which my minestrone and breadstick offerings wound up smeared all over Luci's pale pink sweatshirt, and during which we incurred many a dirty look from the ever-so-civilized minestrone-eating crowd mentioned above, we got up to leave. I put Luci on the floor as I gathered our belongings.

"EXCUSE ME," I heard from the general direction on two stylish thirtysomethings.

I ignored.

"EXCUSE ME!" the woman persisted.

I looked up. "Yes?"

"Your baby just ate something off the FLOOR! She put it-- she put something in her MOUTH off the FLOOR."

I looked down at Luci. "Oh," I said, "Yeah, that's just bread. It's okay." I picked her up.

She looked at me in total, unconcealed horror.

Next time, I think we'll do Chuck E. Cheese.

But she's still a cute monster.

A Day in the Life... Friday

4:30am: I awake when Luci lets out a slow, sad, "I'm in pain" cry. She's still half-attached to my boob, but she has pulled off to let out this cry in her sleep. I feel her tummy: little bubbles are rumbling around. I drag her up onto my chest and prop myself up to get her elevated to see if I can get her to burp without waking. She lets out the tiniest bit of air, but nothing else. I wish we could sleep like this, chest to chest, but she keeps shifting her head from side to side, and I know she isn't comfortable. I plop her back down beside me and she latches back on for the remainder of our all-night nurse-fest.

I am officially awake. She is nursing and thrashing, as her tummy pains flare in waves. I could shove her over into the second crib we just bought last week to sidecar to the bed for nights like this. But I don't, on account of two things: (1) I don't believe she'll sleep on her own if I'm not "restraining" her from thrashing herself awake, and (2) Much as I will not admit it after these long nights of poor sleep, I like sleeping with her snuggled up to me.

7:15am: Adam nudges me and tells me it's time to get up. I don't remember falling back asleep, but it can't have been very long ago. It never feels like morning in a room with no windows. I mutter something about never wanting to wake up again, and sleep for another 30 minutes. Adam gets to sleep in an hour today-- his first class was canceled.

Something is wrong with my eyes-- they itched all day yesterday and grew puffier and redder as the day wore on. Maybe it's all this intense staring at a computer screen at work. I am officially entering some sort of hibernation phase; I am exhausted all the time and feel like I could fall asleep at the drop of a hat (except between 4:30 and 6:30 this morning, apparently). My eyes look terrible this morning, but it feels and looks more like allergies than a Pink Eye-type virus, so to work I must go with them. I do my best to normalize them with makeup, but I look as exhausted as I feel. And I need a haircut.

I'm running late when I say goodbye to my mom and Luci and fly out the door with the end of a loaf of applesauce bread and a half cup of coffee. I come INCHES from backing into Adam's car before I realize he's parked behind me in the driveway. Running back in to find his keys and move his car sets me back another few minutes, and I have to run from my blocks-away parking spot into work. I clock in at 9:00am at the dot. I'm impressed.

I come into the office to find my desk covered in stacks of paper, all with little sticky notes giving me instructions on what to do with them. One is even on my chair... Is that really necessary? I put that stack last out of spite. Jordyn, my fellow assistant, is out for the morning to take her glucose tolerance test. She is due on New Year's Eve with a little girl-- sound familiar? :)

I have never understood why everyone in my office is constantly stressed out. When it comes right down to it, this is what I think about what we do: We plan parties. Lighten up, folks. But it's not about parties, it's about money. I never imagined it would be such a sales-oriented environment. So I spend my morning going over Thursday's bills, tracking how much money was made, typing a report on sales prospects at Washington State University, and taking projects as they fly at me from both my managers. I'm so glad I just work half-days. My eyes are burning by the time I go to pump, a ritual I am growing increasingly tired of, but which I can't live without due to the fact that I can barely get Luci to nurse during the day, and I wind up with blocked ducts if I try to skip my morning pump.

1:00pm: It's time to go home, but I still have several loose ends to tie up. Nobody seems to mind if I stay late-- in fact, my managers' boss has asked them to bump me to full-time, but they told her they weren't going to push for it. Thank goodness. I'd probably do it, because I'd feel guilty saying no, but we are all sufficiently exhausted and stressed out as it is. I was hired for part time, and part time is all I want right now. I have agreed to cover for Jordyn full-time while she is on leave for almost two months, and I'm dreading it.

My managers' boss is a mean, blonde, tan lady with an arm full of silver bracelets that jangle around like a cow bell you can hear from a mile away. She literally makes people cry, and she loves pointing out others' mistakes. She's competitive to the core, which is why she is in charge of both sales and catering. Thankfully, my managers are not mean, but they are under a ton of pressure all the time. Behind closed doors, they both say, "There's more to life than this place." It's nice to know that's how they really feel, especially when they are yelling at Jordyn and me for forgetting to order sales folders or call X client or Y client. I try not to let it get to me, but it's going to be rough when Jordyn goes on leave and I'm the only one to blame.

2:00pm: I'm finally home. Luci is playing happily in the living room with my mom and Robin. "Guess who only had a 30 minute nap today..." is the first thing out of my mom's mouth. She always gives me the daily report: what Luci ate, how long she slept, and whether she pooped. She loves both my mom and Robin, and I feel so lucky to leave her in such good hands.

A turkey sandwich and Earl Grey are just what my cold, tired body need. Luci appears to be overtired and melting down, so I finish my lunch in a hurry and take her downstairs. I am depressed to report that my glider chair has lost its magic-- I haven't gotten her to sleep in the chair for over a week now. I try anyway, but she is doing horrific things to my nipple as she restlessly squirms around in my lap. Frustrated, I take her into our room, shut off the light, and nurse her down in our bed. I wasn't planning on a nap today, but it's not hard to send me back into hibernation. We sleep about an hour, though I feel like I could keep going for hours and hours. This time of year kills me, as temperatures drop and light dwindle.

After I manage to drag myself out of bed, we spend some time lounging upstairs with my dad. I'm feeling lazy, but I know I'll feel better if I get some sort of exercise. I bundle Luci up in the fuzzy bear suit that was way too big for her the last time I can remember it being cold enough for it. Now I am surprised to find that she has just about outgrown it-- it stretches tight when she straightens her legs.

My dad comes along on our walk, and we trek through the woods as Luci rides belly-to-belly with me in the Ergo carrier. She is in awe the minute we step outside-- she loves the change in temperature, air, sounds, smells and sights. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a periodic "Ooh!" as she looks at trees and hears birds. By the end of the walk, she has discovered a new favorite way to ride so that she can stare up at the sky through the trees:

Coming back into the house feels like a blast of heat to our cold cheeks and noses. Spaghetti is in the works, and I manage to feed Luci her dinner and get her bathed before grown-up food is on the table. Spaghetti is one of my current favorite things to eat, not only because it's delicious, but because I can entertain Luci for quite a while if I give her a noodle or two, and I'm able to eat in relative peace. We still don't have a high chair, as the Bumbo plus tray is still working perfectly for that function without taking up any extra space.

That bib was mine when I was a babe. :)

Luci starts another meltdown before I've finished eating, but I'm doubtful that she's going to go down easy. It take her down to the chair again, and again, it ends in horrific nipple-torturing antics. I try just rocking her for about 10 minutes, and she alternates between monkeying around and snuggling into my chest. The snuggles are heavenly, but it's frustrating to watch her fight sleep as usual. When she starts whining to get down, I give up and take her back upstairs. My mom looks at me sympathetically, and takes Luci back down to see if she can get her settled. I give them about 10 minutes, then go down. She's still up, whimpering and wiggling in my mom's lap as she rocks Luci.

What used to be the magic chair.

I take her and try nursing again, and to my delight, this one's a go. She's out in minutes, but I give her a few extra minutes to flutter-suck to make sure she's really asleep.

As I type this, she is still sleeping in her crib, and my eyes are burning. I can't believe I'm this tired at 9pm even after having had a nap today. Adam should be off in 10 or 15 minutes, and I will jump out of my chair to run and meet him when he walks in the door. His schedule is killer these days, and he's not the only one who suffers for it. I'm taking it a little harder than I thought I would, but I never feel good when I know he is stressed, and I miss him all the time. Our bank account is in much better shape these days, but sometimes I wonder if it's worth all the stress. He took up smoking again this week, and not just occasionally. He went from "I quit" to full-blown addiction in a matter of days. I don't like it, but he knows that, and it isn't worth fighting about. I have never understood how smoking factors into the stress-- doesn't it just add more stress?? Now on top of everything else on his plate, he has those nagging urges that make him antsy all the time. I'm trying my best not to get on his case about it, but I not-so-secretly can't wait until he quits again. :(

I'm off to wash off the makeup I've already smudged and rubbed all over my itchy eyes a thousand times today. And then I'll be running up to greet Smoky the Bear with a big hug, and probably the requisite foot and/ or back rub he gets out of me most days. :)

Is it really Friday? I don't know where the time goes these days.

She's on the move, she's on the move...

Our little girl is such a big girl these days. She is still very focused on getting up on her feet so that she can "walk," but she has also finally also learned to sit up, scoot around, CRAWL, eat big-girl food (in baby-food form, but don't tell her that), and most recently, PULL HERSELF UP TO NEAR-STANDING. It is alarming, to say the least. She will definitely be walking soon, from the looks of it. And we need a crib... ASAP. :( We're still co-sleeping our lives away at night, but I can't leave her on the big bed for naps, nor can I leave her in the "bassinette" feature of the Pack N Play (she is literally capable of pulling herself up and over the edge), NOR will she sleep in the play-pen part of the PNP.

One of my many parenting sins is that window in the morning where she wakes up and Mommy don't wanna... So I lie there, barely conscious, keeping my hand on her and periodically yanking her back from the edge so she doesn't fall off the bed as she tries and tries to crawl off the cliff.

Well, there's that, and there are the times that I have let her crawl around the living room and zone out. It is ALWAYS a mistake. Yesterday was a very bad one. In the minute and a half that I was not paying attention, she got ahold of a Lindt wrapper that still had some melted chocolate on it (found melted chocolate on her face...), ate a piece of carpet fiber (which I swabbed, much to her horror, from the back of her throat), and finally found a THUMB TACK near the fireplace, which THANK GOD I got away from her before she did any damage.

And let us not even discuss that one time that I lost my last grain of patience and let out a full-on, I-am-about-to-be-murdered SCREAM when she would not stop crying one day, and proceeded to walk out of the house with her in front of the downstairs neighbor, who had heard it all. I'm still surprised he didn't call CPS.

Or that time it was 11 at night and I was dragging her down the stairs in the carrier to go for ANOTHER drive, and muttered something about "I love you, but you drive me f*cking insane sometimes," only to glance over and see the OTHER downstairs neighbor peeking out her window screen at that very moment.

Uh, anyway, this was supposed to be about her grown-up-ness, not my parenting failure. I just can't believe how big she is, and what a little personality she has already. She loves: Purses (mostly mine. mostly in her mouth.), shopping, and phones (mostly mine or Daddy's. mostly in her mouth.), as most girls do. She also loves boobies, but we assume she'll grow out of that one. She is not much of a cuddler, which is sad for me, but it's just her drive to move and get into everything... she doesn't want to take the time to be snuggled. And that is reason number 514 that we will probably wind up co-sleeping until she's 5... It's only when she's fast asleep that I can really hold her like the little baby that she is.

But she is extremely fun and cute and sociable, provided I (or Daddy or sometimes Grandma) am right nearby. And I hope that I will struggle less with the patience issue when the wedding is behind us and I am not a bridezilla anymore. But I like to think we are both happy and healthy, she and I. And I hold onto a moment with my dad, when he was sitting in our apartment and watching me play with Luci.

He suddenly looked up and said, "You know what? You're a good mom."
It was just what I needed to hear. :)

The object of her desire: Daddy's Xbox controller. Please ignore the strangulation hazard posed by the measuring tape around her neck.

Mmm, carrots! Please ignore the permanent brain injury/ DEATH hazard posed by seating her in the Bumbo on the counter.

Ooh, cords and wires! Please ignore the electrocution hazard posed by the millions of live wires I allowed her to explore.

"Is this okay, Mommy?"
Probably not, but hey, I'm just that kind of mom.

The FOB

And maybe it's time for a last-minute Flowbee?

My dad decided that, as he is now a "geezer," he needs to own a tuxedo. He asked me, "So, should I buy one for my current, fat self or for the self that could be thin in the future?"

I said, "Uh, buy one that FITS you now so you don't look retarded at my wedding."

"So a fat one" he said.

So this is the ensemble he put together off of Ebay. He took this pic with his phone (oh, you could tell? :)) and sent it to my phone. I have been laughing at it for about three days. I hope he wears those reading glasses on our walk down the aisle.

Ah, I love him. :)

Sleep Update

It is probably a mistake to start a new blog, since I got Luci down about an hour ago and it isn't QUITE dark, and I'm afraid that if her radar goes off before the sun really goes down, she's going to want to play when she wakes up, instead of nursing back to sleep.

But I wanted to give a small update on how it's going since I just posted the original complain-y sleep-issues blog from last week. It's been a really up-and-down process to attempt to change our habits so that Luci's schedule isn't quite as chaotic as ours. Some nights, I seem to miss the "window" when she's ready for bed (especially if we are out somewhere in the evening), and she gets a second wind that can last for hours. And she is CRABBY the whole time I let her stay up, but will not go to sleep. I will try and try to get her down by nursing, singing, rubbing, holding, and even just letting her cry. But if she isn't ready, she isn't going down. Those nights, I usually emerge from the bedroom, baby in hand, looking very tired and very frustrated. Adam always reassures me and says, "It's going to take some time!" I usually glare at him, Luci, and everyone and everything else nearby. I am tired, and therefore I am easily frustrated. Or, I grab the car keys, throw her in the car seat and go for a drive, because that is still the "quick fix."

And then there are other nights, like tonight, where I manage to get through her routine (cereal, bath, read, nurse, put her down in the Pack N Play) at the right place in her internal clock. I have been letting her cry a little more in the last few days, since it seems like she is learning to soothe herself once I LEAVE the room. As long as I'm there, she will look for me and cry. Once I leave, she will cry, but if she is really tired and ready to go down, she will.

The maddening thing is that I still don't really understand why some nights it seems so easy, and other nights it's a major struggle. I try to be consistent in what we are doing from day to day without being TOO rigid, but somehow that doesn't seem to matter.

And the same goes for daytime naps... I am trying to be consistent, but some days are better than others. We still go for drives, or I create or delay errands based on how sleepy (or CRABBY) she is getting. One thing that HAS worked most of the time is a suggestion I got from the book The No-Cry Sleep Solution: if baby wakes up from a nap before the 1-hour mark, try to get her back to sleep as quickly as possible. Some days, this has REALLY made a difference for us. If she falls asleep in the car, wakes up crying after 30 minutes at home, and I can pull her out and nurse her back to sleep ASAP, she usually wakes up 30-60 minutes later in a much better mood. I had no idea of the importance of longer naps before I read that. I used to just let her be up once she was up, and she was much fussier back then.

Anyway, tonight is (so far) a good night. We started her routine around 7:00, and she was in her Pack N Play asleep by 7:45. I let her cry, but it was only intermittent, and she fell asleep relatively fast. She woke up around 9:00 (and it was just about dark! yay!), and I nursed her back to sleep. It's been about 15 minutes since I left the room and she's still out, so I'm hoping she will be out for the NIGHT! (and by "for the night," I mean no long wakings between now and the morning... because she will still be up to nurse a bunch of times...)

Now if only Adam would come home from work and enjoy this with me...

Driving Miss Luci

(Okay, I wrote this about a week ago on Facebook, but I am still going to re-post it here in an effort to spruce up my sad-looking family blog, and also because most of it still applies to the current sleep battle...)

Or, The Blog I Have Written Three Times Because I CANNOT Finish Anything I Start Due to Baby Things and/ or Power Failure
Part I:

It is probably a stupid idea to attempt to write this blog, as Luci is asleep and her Mom-is-having-alone-time radar will surely go off by the time I finish it. Also, I could be folding the laundry I threw on the bed while Luci was whining at me and failed to finish folding when the whining began to drive me crazy, or finishing any one of the eighty million things I still need to do around this house, but I am just feeling drained.

We were blessed to have my friend Dana come over for a couple of hours Wednesday afternoon so that Mommy could have free hands for a while, and I now have a slightly cleaner house (THANK YOU, DANA!). As i said in the last blog, it has basically been my fantasy lately to have somebody come and entertain Luci so that I could clean for a few hours. I used to nanny for a family whose parents were pharmaceutical reps who worked from home. I never completely understood the need for a babysitter for a work-from-home job until now. I need a babysitter just for the STAYING at home "job," though right now I wish that we were doing a little more "staying" and a little less driving, but I'll get to that in a second.

But I am hoping that this is just a particularly needy stage we are going through with Luci. The past couple of weeks especially have been exhausting. She has had a constant runny nose for two weeks, and I HOPE she is preparing to cut a tooth, because she is crabby all the time (unless we are out in public, because she loves to show off what a good and happy girl she is to strangers). I now thoroughly regret not establishing a schedule with her in the early months (although it's not that I never tried... I just never thought it was "working" and therefore gave up), because we are having the worst time with sleeping routines now. The ONLY way I can get her to take ...

**SHE TOTALLY JUST WOKE UP AS I PREDICTED, BUT IS NOW PLAYING SOMEWHAT HAPPILY IN THE WALKER**

...a nap is to go for a drive. I am probably spending a fortune in gas as I just cruise the neighborhood, hop on the freeway to nowhere, or create some unnecessary errand for us in order to get out of the house and PUT HER TO SLEEP. It's the most maddening thing. I can try for HOURS to get her to take a nap. She no longer likes the bouncer. The swing no longer puts her to sleep. She is a BUSY girl, and she wants to be on her feet and Mommy to be holding her up. She doesn't even like to be held most of the time so much as she likes to be held UP so she can "walk" around and find stray Kleenex to eat. She does still like walks in the stroller, but I'm not really up for that until the late evening in the heat we've been having.

So we drive. Or we drive, park, and shop, because generally, she will stay asleep for shopping. I can't count the number of times I have arrived at our front door with her sleeping in the carseat, my heart full of hopes that I will be able to sit in peace in quiet or unload the dishwasher for 30 minutes, and the second I put the key in the lock, she wakes up wailing. I don't know how she knows.

Then, at bedtime, it takes about three hours to get her down. We have just started her on cereal, so the time between that, the bath, the nursing, the wrestling, the giving-up-and-going-for-a-drive, and her sleeping... is about three hours. I know that the extended bedtime is probably related to her being over-tired, but I don't know how to fix that when I'm already driving (literally!) myself crazy all day trying to get her to nap.

So, needless to say, her sleep issues are my sleep issues, since I can't take a nap when I am driving around and/ or shopping all day, and because I have been staying up late or getting out of bed late when I have FINALLY gotten her down, so that I can have a couple of hours to DO anything, or do nothing. I stayed up until 4am finishing the wedding invitations, because I literally COULD NOT keep her happy long enough to get anything done in the week and a half that I had to finish this task. I have had a few meltdowns lately in the form of "I wish I had a real job so I would be entitled to a full night's sleep" (which... I am not exactly how that would work, since Luci doesn't seem to care who has a real job or not. :) I just get jealous of Adam sometimes, as I am sure he gets jealous of me) or simply, "I am failing at everything," but I know I am doing okay.

And no, I am not ready to trade her in, although I would be happy to rent her out for a few hours some days. I am just a new mom who feels like this stage is never going to end, like she's never going to turn thirteen and want nothing to do with me.

Part II:
HOLY CRAP, fast forward two days from when most of this blog was written, and we have a miracle: I have just gotten Luci down for a nap the SECOND DAY IN A ROW in her Pack 'N Play (portable crib/ playpen, for those of you who can still walk in your houses without tripping over eighty pieces of "baby gear"). I did it for the first time yesterday and though I was having delusions. She has basically NEVER gone to sleep any way except nursing, driving, or being in the swing with a pacifier.

But, out of desperation after nursing and wrestling her on the big bed for about 40 minutes, I put her in yesterday to see if she would wear herself out wrestling with her big fluffy doggy instead of her big fluffy mom. She cried a little, but I rubbed her back and sang to her. And then an AMAZING THING happened: she put her head down and yawned. My heart started to pound with excitement, but it nearly exploded with excitement when, a few minutes later, I affirmed that she was truly ASLEEP. No boob in her mouth, not even a pacifier. Even when I took my hand off her back, she didn't stir.

And this is probably a skill that MOST new parents learn within a few days of bringing home their bundle, but I don't care that I am just getting the hang of it. We have co-slept all her life, from the very first night in the hospital. And while that arrangement drives me crazy sometimes, I absolutely hate it when someone tells me, "Oh, that's not good." I think it has been a very good thing in a few different ways, and especially for the quarter that I was in school and away from her for a 4-6 hour chunk most days. She had to catch up on her mama snuggles and nursings. And she really sleeps very well snuggled up to me. She nurses very often still, and that is the only reason I get crappy sleep with this arrangement (well, that and the occasional crotch-kicking, face-whacking fest she throws in the morning). Aside from the half-wakings where she wakes up and squirms just enough to tell me it's time to switch sides, she sleeps through the night.

Anyway, all that to say: there's a teeny tiny light at the end of this tunnel. She has surprised me with these very grown-up naps, and I am sure she will surprise me some more. :)

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes...

And apparently, my heart is very dark and twisted.

I don't understand why the Adam of my dream-life is such a, well, bastard. I have vivid dreams fairly regularly, but all of the Adam dreams are particularly vivid and unhappy. He's always doing something to devastate me. Last year, months before I was pregnant, I dreamt that I was pregnant and going to the hospital because I was in labor. I kept calling and calling him, but he was nowhere to be found. I searched the whole hospital. Eventually, I concluded that he had abandoned me. And I just kept thinking to myself, "What am I going to do? I'm going to be a SINGLE MOMMMMMMM!!!"

Then, when he was in Colorado for job training and I really was pregnant, I dreamt that I went into labor and he couldn't come home. I was in the hospital, losing my mind, because I refused to have the baby without him there. I was ripping out my IV's and plotting my escape from the upper-story hospital room.

And there have been other, more minor dreams, like the one where he decided that we weren't going to have sex with each other for a few years, but that he was going to start sleeping with other people. He wasn't leaving me, per se, just openly sleeping around and expecting me to deal. Sweet.

But this latest one takes the cake for both weird and devastating. A few nights ago, I dreamt that it was our wedding weekend, and we were having the rehearsal. Adam was up on the altar with a priest and some other people I didn't really know. And I was already wearing my dress, for reasons I do not understand. So as I was coming down the aisle (alone?), I watched Adam on the altar, and he appeared to be freaking out. The priest would ask him to do something, and he would roll his eyes, turn his back, cross his arms, throw his arms in the air, bury his head in some lady's chest (??), or perform some other incredibly dramatic gesture to the effect of "UGGGHHH."

As I got closer, I got more and more angry with him for apparently resenting the whole wedding process. Finally, I started walking off in a huff and shouted, "If you want to marry me, you better come here QUICK." I ran into the dressing room and starting tearing off my dress. He followed me in, and I said, "What is the matter with you?! You're being so awkward and acting like you don't even want to do this!" He started mumbling some sort of defense or explanation, but I don't remember what. I continued to undress. And then, in the voice we usually reserve for joking, he said, "I'm gay."

I said, "It's not FUNNY right now." And he said, "No, seriously. I think I'm gay." I was like, "CHOPPER, come on, you know that's not true," and proceeded to tell him how I knew he wasn't gay (though I can't recall how that argument went... hmm). But I realized he was serious. And I lost my mind.

The rest of the dream was just my utter devastation at losing him, including what seemed like hours or days of hard-core crying. I have had some bad dreams before, but I have never been so relieved to wake up as I was when I found that he was there, sleeping beside me, being the most UN-GAY man of all time.

And I am fairly sure he's going to tell me I'm mean for writing this, but hopefully he realizes that the main message here is: THANKS FOR NOT BEING GAY AND FOR LOVING ME AND WANTING TO MARRY ME (most of the time)! I love you a million billion, and even in my crazy dreams the thought of losing you is pretty much the end of my life.

Yes, the big day has arrived. Well, no, not THAT big day, but a moderately big day that relates to the Very Big Day: We are going dress shopping.

*Cringe*
^ That is my reaction every time this thought crosses my mind. NOT because I am dreading the wedding or anything of that nature, but because I still just don't feel like my body is ready. But it's time-- past time. And actually, this will be Round Two for me and Luci. On a whim a few weeks ago, we stopped by the Bridal Outlet that I drive by every single day on my way home. I originally stepped in just to quickly look around and get a general sense of the selection, but I was all too easily persuaded to try on a few dresses.

And they were AWFUL. I was AWFUL in them. Anything that fit my boobs did not fit my body (and therefore made my body look huge), and vice versa. I would blame lactation, but I had this problem long before the milkies ever came in.

I was disheartened after that shopping attempt, although I knew I had made some fundamental mistakes (going alone, starting at the outlet, bringing my crabby baby...). But I'm still a little freaked out that I'm not going to be able to find anything to fit my "curvaceous body"...

...And here I must interrupt myself to recap a conversation I had with Robin a few weeks ago:

Maja: "We need to go dress shopping soon."
Robin: "I know. I haven't even lost any weight; it's kind of depwessing."
Maja: "You don't need to lose any weight. You look fine."
Robin: "I know. Actually, I kind of love my curvaceous body."

Hahaha :) If only I had that attitude... Although I did get a pretty sweet compliment on my ride up the elevator this morning. Stephanie, the Activities Director for the Club, said, "Do you know... you are just one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. You always look so beautiful, and I just think, 'Wow.' Did you know that? You should." I suspect someone hired her to do this sneak-attack compliment to boost my self-confidence on dress-shopping day, but whatever. It was really nice. Also, it in no way changes my conviction that she is sometimes a complete dumbass when it comes to running Club events.

Anyway... This time, we are going to real bridal shops, and I have an entourage-- Mom, Robin, Connie (my brother Charles's girlfriend, also my bridesmaid :)), Caitlin (friend since middle school), and of course Luci. I will let you know how it goes. Only, I won't let you know TOO much, because I don't want Adam to know anything. Because even though he probably doesn't have any interest whatsoever, I want it to be a surprise. :) I keep thinking that this is going to make it so REAL for me... Seeing myself in a wedding dress (*uh, specifically one which does not make me look like a whale and/ or popover) will just make all those visions reality... I'm getting MARRIED in only a few months. That just blows my mind! I'm so excited, though. I love my Mr. LeBon, even if he doesn't know how to work a Crock Pot.

In other news, LUCI IS FOUR MONTHS OLD. We just had her 4-month checkup yesterday, and I swear she couldn't have been happier to be at the doctor's office. She was in a great mood, looking at herself in the mirror, doing her smile-and-spaz-out-I'm-so-happy-to-see-you routine every time she looked at me, the nurse OR the doctor, and trying desperately to eat the leakproof pad they had underneath her. And then there were the shots... Sigh. I hate seeing her cry like that. She wails so hard that she gets those crying-hiccups, and looks at me like I'm the meanest mom in the world. :( But she did really well, and I gave her a couple of rounds of Tylenol throughout the afternoon (and walked like EIGHT MILES, not even kidding. Going for a ride in the stroller usually keeps her happy. So we did at least 4 miles on the Centennial Trail, spent some time at the mall, made about 40 loops around Target, went to my favorite second-hand store, and did a lot of pacing at home)... and she was fussy, but never had a meltdown like last time she got vaccinations. So yay.

The stats:Weight: 12 lbs, 14 oz (Uh, remember how my guess for her 2-month weight was 12 lbs 5 oz?)
Length: 25.25 inches (that's 6 inches since birth! A whole half a foot!)
Head circumference: 40 cm

Her hair is coming in a little more now, and her skin looks so much better since we got some nursing help. No signs of teeth yet, thank GOD, because although she's latching better, she still has horrible pacifier habits with my poor nippies, and I still haven't figured out how to resolve that. (My mom insists that it's "unnatural" not to let a baby have a paci, and although that doesn't make sense to me, it doesn't change the fact that we can't really make it through the day without using one :-/) She also just figured out how to blow raspberries ON MY BOOB, so that's been a treat. I was nursing her in public yesterday, and people were hearing her as she messed around and going, "Oh! Is she farting?" Oh, my delicate little flower. :)

Well, I guess that's enough for one installment of the I'm At Work in the Office and Bored Out of My Skull edition. Only 3 more hours until the big shopping trip begins...

What a Crock

Adam is going to tell me I'm mean for writing this. But I have to, baby. I just have to.

So I've been trying to do weekly meal planning and do only one grocery shopping trip per week. While it is a bit of a headache to sit down and figure out exactly what's for dinner for a seven-day stretch, it's so much nicer not to have to face the "What should we have for dinner?" question night after night. That, and we waste a lot of food, and I hope to waste a little less and spend a little less by being more organized. I used to love grocery shopping. I used to do it recreationally. Now, with a little Luci to haul around, who is a ticking time bomb of immanent poop explosions and booby-needs, I do not enjoy the grocery store so much. And not only do I have Luci, but I am completely lacking in the creative energy necessary for spontaneous cooking (beyond grilled cheese and frozen pizzas, of course).

Anyway, it's been going pretty well. I have my lapses some nights when I realize it's 5:00pm and my 5-hour chicken dish isn't going to be ready until 10:00pm, and we have grilled cheese. But I've been trying.

So yesterday, I had planned to make a stew in the Crock Pot that would cook most of the day until Adam got home with Luci, since I had to work. But I opened up my meat and it smelled a little funky, so I had to come up with something else to go with the 30 pounds of vegetables I had chopped. I had some frozen chicken breasts, so I browned two and threw them in with the 30 pounds of veggies, turned the Crock Pot on low, and left the house.I talked to Adam around 7, when he was heading to get Luci and go home. I told him that I had made something in the Crock Pot, which was not quite a stew but which would probably taste alright. The conversation went something like this:
Maja: "Um, my meat was funky, so I threw some chicken and stuff in the Crock Pot before I left."
Adam: *Silence*
Maja: "So... you can... hopefully it will taste alright, and if not, you can always eat granola bars and wine."
Adam: "Wait, so you want me to... eat what's in the Crock Pot?"
Adam, in own head: *BY MYSELF???*
Maja: "Well yeah."
Adam: "Oh. Well... I'll just wait 'til you get home."
Maja: "Uh, that might not be 'til pretty late."
Adam: "Oh. Well, I'll just... Hmm."

So I went back to work. And the work gods were kind enough to let me out at 11, probably several hours earlier than everyone else. I had not gotten a dinner break at work, so I was looking forward to eating at home. I called Adam on the way home. The conversation went something like this:
Maja: "So how was the chicken?"
Adam: "What?"
Maja: "The dinner. Was it okay?"
Adam: "Oh. I uh, got something on the way home."
Maja: *Laughs* "Wow. Thanks."
Adam: "So, wait... Uh... was I supposed to turn that stuff off?"

And I knew in my heart that those veggies could not withstand 13 hours in the slow cooker, but I had to see it for myself:

The wreckage. Unfortunately, I'm not sure this photo accurately conveys the unnatural shade of gray everything had assumed. Nor does it convey the nasty burnt-broccoli fumes.

Next time, I will just lay out the granola bars and wine.

I Ride the Bus, I Ride the Bus, I Ride the Bus

Yeah, I ride the bus.


That is what repeated in my head to the tune of the Go-Go's "We Got the Beat" (thanks, Subconscious, for digging deep into the infinite recesses of the Annoying to pull out that one) the first time I successfully rode the city bus several weeks ago. I was convinced I was doomed to failure at public transit, but it turns out even I am capable at this. That first ride, even despite my lack of a student ID card (= bus pass) due to the many malfunctions in my attempts to register for the classes I needed, I managed to my four quarters and could not keep from grinning like an idiot as I headed down the aisle of the 66 (is that even appropriate bus lingo? There are many buses on the 66 route. Clearly I am not a real bus aficionado).

(Massive Self-Interruption #1:)

And wait, did I forget to tell you what happened with the whole EWU letter and school sitch? I did? Well, what a treat I have for you.

For those of you who missed the last class, let me review for you: I applied for a Master's program in Mental Health Counseling at the last minute in late January, in some sort of postpartum haze. This was not my original grad-school plan. My original plan was to apply for a bunch of different things I have interest in (law school, philosophy PhD programs, even MFA programs) and decide from there. But this counseling thing was always presented to us (myself and my older brother Charles) by my mother as a sort of "backup plan" if we didn't know what else to do after college. I always assumed it would be very easy to get into, and relatively easy to get through.



I had an interview for the M.S. in Mental Health Counseling program in mid-March. This was probably the most terrible interview I have ever given in my life. I would like to blame the early morning (and late night), the many months of broken sleep, the severe case of Mommy brain, the nervousness, and many other things... But the fact remains, I was terrible. I was not the Summa Cum Laude graduate that filled out that application, nor was I the subject of those great letters of recommendation. I was an idiot in a stupid-looking jacket who gave the worst possible answers to every question. I said things like, "I am a people person." I hate it when people talk like that. I SHUN people who talk like that. I... talked like that. My dad took me out to breakfast afterward, and he asked what sorts of questions were asked. I gave an example, and he said, "Well that's an interesting one. You know, that would be a great opportunity to emphasize that although you do not come from a psychology background, your grounding in philosophy gives you a great foundation in looking at the way that human beings operate in the world, and..." If I were less of an idiot, I would be able to re-create for you his perfect answer, but I can't even quite remember that. The point is, it was perfect. It made me realize just how terrible my own response had been.



...And I have been obsessing about the whole event all day, every day ever since (oh, you noticed?), but I'm trying (not very hard) to let it go and realize that whatever happens is meant to happen.



HowEVER, what happened after that interview was not to my liking. What I wanted was a yes-or-no answer. What I got was a MAYBE answer. I was wait-listed. I remain wait-listed. I had to begin these prerequisite classes not knowing whether they were going to do me any good... this year, at least.

(End of Self-Interruption #1.)

So, back to the bus... In my giddy excitement at having successfully passed the show-up-on-time-and-board-bus portion of this test, the process of selecting a seat went something like this:


1. College-age girl with backpack and iPod? --No thanks.


2. College-age guy with backpack and iPod? --Not today, Sir.


3. Stinky, bearded old man with horrible, hacking cough? --OH YES PLEASE.


He smelled like Shady Old Motel or Shadier Old Apartment Building, both of which smell like a hundred years of stale cigarettes, unidentified animal urine, human body odor and dust. But I sort of expect that from the city bus-- stinky people come with the territory. But it was that cough that was freaking me out. With every hacking episode, I added another bottle of Purell to my mental shopping list.


Lucky for me, I managed not to come down with the Plague, made it to class on time, and even successfully got back on the bus for a return trip to Spokane. And I've done it many times since. And in fact, I love it even more than I thought I would. I am so tired of driving these days. My parents and Adam have made the commuting situation a lot easier on me; Adam takes her to my parents' some mornings, and my parents are usually willing to meet me downtown if I'm running late... or if they're just feeling generous (which is a lot of the time). Still... I just get tired of being in the driver's seat... and at the gas pump. So I am LOVING the opportunity to just be a passenger for 30-40 minutes, to people-watch or read or stare out the window.



And, to be slightly selfish, it's just a nice break for me from baby time. I love being home with Luci, and I feel so lucky to have been able to be home and not "need" to work right now. The first couple days of class, I felt like I was making a huge mistake by going back to school so soon. But now that we're both getting used to it, it's a really nice little break. I spend just enough time away from her so that by the end of class, I'm dying to see her again-- even if she DID keep me up 'til 2am or woke me up at 5. I find that when I'm home alone with her all day, my patience is thinner and I feel more worn out.

...And I don't know how, exactly, to explain that without sounding like a selfish beast ("Whew! Thank goodness I don't have to see my kid for a few hours some days!"), but it's just a big blessing to have a break AND know that she's in the best possible hands (besides mine. Cuz I'm THE bestest. Obviously.).

So yes. I love the break, and I love the bus. My friend Taylor is a graduate philosophy student at Boston College, and I am TOTALLY KIDNAPPING THE FOLLOWING from his recent blog posting. I've been pondering it as I sit squished with strangers on the STA buses:

"Anyway, the main drive of the paper as I see it is the irreducibility of the person to an object. Persons are ALWAYS inherently subjects. Now, by subject is meant someone who does the same kinds of things you do: think, will, participate in an interior life, love, dream. Everyone you meet is like this, whether you take the time to notice it or not.

I have a thought though... see, when we interact with other human beings, unless we can really befriend them they tend to just interact on the level of objects in our world... not in a necessarily dehumanizing way, just in a friendship of utility way. I find that when I "people watch" in some place like a bus or coffee shop (not anything like Hitchcock's Rear Window, that is just weird, thanks Paul), it is very easy to see them as subjects. Why? Because of the silence. They are participating in their interior life, a life that I will never participate in, a life that, if I am lucky, I will be able to catch glimpses of by spending my entire life getting to know one person.

There is a phrase I can't recall the origin of but speaks to this in a very Lewisian sense, 'The only response to the presence/face of the infinite is silence.' Here you are sitting in a group of strangers (it happens a lot) and it overwhelms you... all these little infinities off in their own - not little, never little - vast worlds. Can't you just sit back and glory in the wonders all around you?

That, my friends, is why I like riding the bus."

:)

And finally, there is a poem I desperately wish I remembered that involved the bus. A bar downtown used to have Poetry nights on Sundays, and people were free to come and share their work. There were some surprisingly high-caliber works that would pop up every so often between the pieces that utilized the F-word in every line and every possible grammatical role.

Anyway, the poem I wish I could remember now was from an MFA student at Eastern. I think (although I was drinking wine at the time) it was intended to-- mock? imitate?-- Robert Burns's very famous poem that goes, "My love is like a red red rose..." But the girl's poem went, "My love is like the city bus." And I hardly remember the rest, except that it was one of those good-humored, unpretentious poems that takes the ordinary and makes it beautiful. Maybe I will try to re-create my own version. Maybe she will later sue for plagiarism.

Did I not warn you I would write ridiculously long, incredibly pointless stories about my life? Luci is threatening to wake up, so I'll wrap up now. Until next time, when I return with more stories about my busy, bus-y life.

(HAHA! bus-y! Get it? Okay...)

What does he look like a clownfish?

Because I only have one free hand and cannot finish the other post I was working on, here's the latest, jacked from Facebook:

My mom and I were sitting in my parents' kitchen (on the couches... yes, that arrangement still stands) talking about the wedding. My 18-year-old brother Peter came in on his way out the door for work, with his pants-- as usual-- not even remotely covering his ass. You can generally see about as much boxers as you can jeans on his lower half. We all think he looks ridiculous, but he refuses to wear his pants like a big boy.

"Peter!" my mom said, "Pull up your pants!"

Peter laughed and (ineffectively) tugged up his jeans, only to have them slump back down.

"And Peter," Mom continued, "I found two pairs of GIRLS' jeans last time I did your laundry. And I saw you wearing them once!" She turned to me. "They're SKIN-TIGHT and they come up to HERE on him!" She indicated mid-thigh.

"Peter, are you going Nemo?" she asked.

Peter and I looked at each other, thought about it, and started cracking up.

"You mean... emo?" Peter said.

"Oh, is that what you call it?" she said.

I said, "Mom, I think YOU'RE going Nemo."

We all had a good laugh, and Peter left with his ass still very much hanging out of his pants.

Taking the Plunge

Well hello, Blog world!

Actually, I am no stranger. I'm a bit of a blog-a-holic. I just do my blogging on Facebook, where I tell incredibly pointless stories about my life and make fun of the people I love the bestest. When my family found out I had been writing about them for months, whenever someone did something funny or stupid, the question to me was: "Are you going to blog me?"

But now that I am a mommy and am joining the wonderful LeBon family, I figure I should finally join the family blogging trend by opening up shop here on Blogger. As a fresh start, I plan to tell incredibly pointless stories about my life and make fun of the people I love the bestest. :-P So enjoy my ramblings; there will probably be lots of them.