Dear long neglected blog:

Dear Blog,
It was brought to my attention (by friends and acquaintances) tonight that I have been neglecting you. I didn't even think that people really cared?!? I'm not sure if it is the 4 over sized glasses of 1 month old fermented Sangria speaking, or just the inner me that needs to come out, but I am sorry. I promise to faithfully confide in you (which basically equates to anyone on planet earth who is aware of your existence) and keep you current on the comings and going of my life. No matter how mundane or boring I might think it is, I will report on the size and shape of poopy diapers, the ever infrequent burning rings of fire, or mispronounced words as spoken by my 3 year old, and the SO SO FUNNY and NOT SO funny every day issues of marriage. Also, for the record, since I am doing a throwback to "diary style" I TOTALLY had such a blast with Katie and Sarah tonight. We laughed at ourselves silly, and they always tend to remind me of the little things about husbands and kids that I so often take for granted.
P.S. - in case you forget to put this tidbit in Andrew's baby book - he started cruising two days ago and yesterday, he crawled into the bookcase, and today, he crawled in the bookcase and then fell out on his head. Not your best day as a mom. You sat there and watched it happen in slow motion, strongly consider carpeting the living room.

Really? It's already April 2009?

Is it really already April? Where did the time go? Andrew is almost six months old, Isabelle is turning 3 and I am just weeks away from completing my first semester back in school - with straight A's I might add. It is 9:49 on a Wednesday, I've been up with Andrew since 4:40 am, I spent more than 8 hours at school, ran 4 miles, and spent some quality time with the kids reading Fancy Nancy, Pinkalicious, and being drooled on by Andrew - who is popping two teeth as I speak. For someone who will be teaching grammar, spelling, etc. to kids someday I should probably pay more attention to my run-on sentences, but I just have so much to say and periods just get in the way.

I am a certified runner now(if there is such a thing). I've competed in two 5k's in the past few months and I've cut two minutes off my time since February, and on average have worked my way down to 8.5 minute miles! I have found so much pleasure in running, it's me against myself, and it is so invigorating.

I have never felt so fulfilled. I have met new and wonderful friends in class, I feel healthy and full of energy, and best of all I'm wearing jeans I almost threw away two years ago. Life is good. Two beautiful children, the most loving husband a woman could ever ask for, and I'm checking off stuff in my "bucket list" day by day, including our first family trip to Disney, soooooo fun, even if Isabelle's favorite part was taking 8 baths in the whirpool tub in less than 48 hours.

I'm totally sentimental today, just thought I'd share.

the digestive system explained... by a 2 year old.

This weekend while shopping in the mall with Isabelle, I gave into her constant begging for a "seshal tweat" (translation: SPECIAL TREAT). She is drawn like a moth to a flame when we are within sight of those gumball/candy machines so strategically placed in front of every elevator. They know the stroller moms are forced to use the elevator unless we want to look like retarded idiots balancing the front wheel of the stroller on one step of the escalator despite the OBVIOUS NO STROLLER SIGNS... Oh, and how about the grocery stores who have isle 7 all set up. Diapers, formula, baby food etc. on the right and every candy known to man on the left. So I can't buy diapers without a meltdown about the Brachs gummy worms. But I digress. The point of this story is Isabelle. She was so thrilled to have 8 to 9 little pieces of square colorful gum. She decided to save some in her booster seat snack holder on the way home. The entire family piled into the car later in the day and a few minutes into the drive Isabelle asked us, "where is my gum?" (first of all - this a problem, I specifically told her NOT TO TELL DAD, as he is anti-gum...whatever, I love being the nice guy so I give in, especially when attempting to maneuver the mall for several hours in peace, so if it means giving her gum, then she GETS GUM!!!) Anyway, before either one of us can answer her she continues, "Is it in my butt?" Keith and I look at each other rather puzzled and she blurts out, "cause I ate it and now its poop!" OH. MY. GOD. We laughed till we cried. We want to discourage "gross conversation" but how do you NOT die laughing at that? There is no t.v. show, cartoon, or discussion between Keith and myself that would have clued her in on how the body works, I can only imagine that she is just a genius.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Apparently I decided to take a maternity leave from my blog! I'm back and full of stories. Andrew was born on October 13. It was supposed to be peaceful and easy going. When Isabelle was born there was stadium seating in my delivery room. Grandparents, friends and their boyfriends, etc. It was a madhouse. As I was pushing Isabelle out my Aunt was standing close by on the phone with Alana chatting to the nurse who was HOLDING MY LEG about how Alana is a dancer, Alana lives in NYC, blah blah blah, then Aunt Etta started to play the Kevin Bacon game with the nurse, as if my sister who lives in a city filled with BILLIONS of people would know the nurses friend who is also a dancer... AS IF! I swear the audience was doing the wave and passing popcorn while I poured my sweat, blood and tears into pushing that baby into the world. So when I got pregnant with Andrew I told Keith, "NOT THIS TIME!! No one is invited." Of course when the time came I needed a friendly face who knew what I was going through and asked Lauren to be there with us. To make a long story short, it was a dog and pony show despite my attempt at a quiet simple birth. Keith nearly fainted as the nurse inserted the needle in my arm to administer fluids. I looked up after she said, "ok - all done!" to see that Keith was about to keel over, all white and pasty and sweaty. I've never seen anything like it. My solid rock was confined to a chair with his head between his knees. Scary. I was beginning to think he might not make it through the birth. The epidural didn't work all day, I felt EVERY SINGLE CONTRACTION on the left side of my body all day until right before Andrew was born. Early in the evening the anesthesiologist came back to give me stronger meds and adjust the epidural. BINGO - pain free, but I paid the price, because by the time I was ready to push I had absolutely NO CONTROL over my legs, they were just flopping all over the place. Somewhere in the madness it was determined that I'd forgotten to put a Hi8 tape in the video camera, forcing Lauren to speed all over Countryside trying to find a tape. When she returned I was already in full on labor, crowning head and all, shortly after that, SHE FELL TO THE GROUND AND BEGAN TO SEIZE!!!! Nurses rushing in, trying to keep her still and breathing! NIGHTMARE!!! I kept asking the doctor is she ok? Is she breathing? and they just kept saying everything is fine, everything is fine, but they looked panicked. Ultimately, Andrew arrived, Lauren was taken to the ER and came back with a killer headache and a huge egg on her head and Keith managed to stay vertical for the entire birth.



Things haven't been easy for the past few months. I suffered from mastitis accompanied by high grade fevers - pure hell. Andrew has been diagnosed with severe G.I. issues and is on formula that better be made out of friggin diamonds, gold, and/or copper for the price we are having the pay. The Neocate (formula) seems to be doing the trick, the colic has greatly deteriorated and he is beginning to sleep for longer periods of time at night.



Even with the lack of sleep and crazy days with two kids I have managed to maintain my sense of humor. And I have so many things to blog about, but just not enough TIME IN THE DAY TO DO IT!!



I envision that this year will be great. I begin school on the 13th of January, I've been running at least 4 miles every morning with the kids in the jogging stroller and I've really never felt better. 2009 is the year I reclaim my body and health. It just feels like everything is coming together and its a very good feeling to have. I have my husband, two beautiful children, and it just doesn't get any better than this!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I wish I was a seahorse.

This is the part of the pregnancy where I begin to develop intense envious feelings for the seahorse. I know its the not seahorses fault, but I'm pretty angry just the same. While I carry this child for TEN MONTHS, come on, lets be honest here, whoever tried to convince the female population that we are only pregnant for 9 months must think that we are total idiots.

But I digress...

I carry this child for 10 months while the seahorse (the MALE seahorse BY THE WAY - yet another reason to INTENSELY HATE the seahorse...) Has his pouch filled with eggs via the female, attaches himself to a branch and just chills there for A FEW WEEKS, a few meaning 2-4 weeks. I know I can't really complain as much as the elephant mommies out there, as they carry that beast of a child for 18 months, but whatever, I want to be a seahorse today. Did I mention that the male seahorse regains his "pre-pregnancy" svelte shape in less than an hour following the release of the last baby??? I would give anything to leave the hospital in any one of my beautiful size 8 Ann Taylor pant-suits or party dresses that have been hiding in piles of vacuum sealed bags since I found out I was pregnant with ISABELLE!!!! Even a panda would be cool. Who cares how long that gestation period lasts... as long as I give birth to something the size of a stick of butter I would be fine carrying my babies for 4 years.

Such is life...

But I am not a panda, nor a seahorse, and as such, at 35 weeks my feet swell to the size of an eye of round roast by 10 am every day. I swear that lady at Dunkin Donuts is pouring salt into my coffee every morning, because I have taken major precautions to avoid sodium in an attempt to make it all the way to labor and delivery wearing my wedding band and engagement ring this time around. They still fit, unlike last pregnancy, where I had them on a chain around my neck by 30 weeks. And for the record, I've only gained 14 lbs so far!!! Not too shabby for a lady who swelled over 60 lbs with the last baby!!!

I swear to you Andrew is already IN THE BIRTH CANAL. He is so low that (as nature intends) he is causing my pelvic bone to spread apart resulting in the most INTENSE painful shock-like sensations to jolt through my pelvic and nether-region. I can only assume that this is what it must feel like when a dude gets kicked in the junk...if you catch my drift. Words just cannot describe this constant, unrelenting pain I suffer through each and every time I stand, sit, roll over or get out of bed. Speaking of bed - it now takes me a good 17 seconds to roll myself to the edge and scoot my legs to the ground. I am so disabled at this point I need ADA compliant rails installed next to my toilet and in the shower just to get up and down. I'm just days away from trusting Keith to shave my legs for me. And to that end, I'm lucky just to make it to the bathroom in a timely fashion in the middle of the night, given the whole getting out of bed fiasco added to the minefield of dogs randomly sleeping all over the floor. I have lost count of how many times I've tripped over a sleeping dog, not so much due to the darkness of the night, but simply because I cannot see past my belly. So if you can picture it, I'm scooting out of bed, doing the "sting ray shuffle" (for those Floridians who know what I'm talking about) trying to avoid certain death after falling over a dog, and in the 30 some seconds it has taken me to get erect and waddle to the bathroom, the baby has settled onto my bladder and I practically pee myself before I can actually get my legs to fold in order to sit on the toilet. fun times.

Seriously, where is that damn wheelchair hang tag for my car?? I've got a list of things I need now...the parking tag, ADA compliant rails, a bed pan would be good or we can just take a trip to Walmart - get myself a package of those AWESOME diapers for adults and call it a day.

Is it October yet? Where's my epidural already? I wish I was a seahorse.

Ta Daaaaaaaaah!!!

After living with a kitchen that I've HATED for 6 years, I finally took the plunge and committed to a DIY remodel. Since moving into this house in 2002 I've managed to have all but one appliance "mysteriously" malfunction or die... allowing me to pick out a fabulous stainless steel replacements!!! I have a premonition that the fridge will croak right before Christmas, just in time for my annual holiday cookie exchange... so that I can be the proud owner of an LG 22.4 cu ft. French Door Freestanding Fridge... not that I've picked one out already or anything, providing ample space for multiple trays of wonderful holiday treats.

As usual, Keith was roped into helping me complete this task, taking on the rewiring of the USELESS exhaust fan to nowhere - no really the former exhaust fan turned on, but didn't actually move the air - its like having a fireplace with no chimney. Where in the hell is the soot supposed to go exactly? So that was taken away and we are actually in the process of installing new overhead lights above the stove. We basically spent 3 weeks (from 8pm (after Isabelle's bedtime) to 11pm) up to our knees in spackle, formica dust, paint, and 20 years worth of the previous owner's mess. I learned how to use a ruler during this project... 29 years old and I had to go online to learn what the smallest notches on the ruler represented... laugh all you want, I can correct the hell out of your terrible grammar/spelling but I have no idea where to find 7/16 on a ruler. So I actually googled it and found this wonderful site: http://www.onlineconversion.com/faq_05.htm. I must say Keith was shocked when he glanced at my rough draft of measurements - totally amazed that I'd been able to specify certain lengths. I didn't tell him that I'd cheated, but I didn't need to because apparently I forgot to close down the window on the laptop and he totally busted me. Any MORON should know that 1/4 converts to .25, which I really do know, but I get soooo overwhelmed with the numbers that my common sense takes a vacation. Keith had a good laugh at my expense on our 18th trip to Home Depot when we were looking for items that needed to be converted and as soon as I asked, "Honey, what is 1/4 in the decimal form?" I saw his face turn red... and the answer came to me at about the same time that he fell to the ground in laughter. Oh well.

Its just so nice to walk into your kitchen and have it actually feel like it represents your personal style. It gave me a chance to reorganize all items stored in the kitchen, most likely just an extension of my need to "nest" right before Andrew is born.

So I'm as happy as can be with the final results - it reminds me of the day after you buy a new car and you just sit there at the window staring at it for hours---which is exactly what I do all evening from the couch - just stare at the wonderful results after hours and hours of blood sweat and tears.