Tooth Fairy Bags from the Purl Bee

Evelyn has been two-toothed now for a few months, but until today there hasn't been any sign of more to come. Until today. I can see the makings of two more teeth, her top front ones getting ready to take center stage. Exciting!

As if in honor of this occurance, I came across this cute craft project idea on the Purl Bee today. It will be quite some time before we need these in our house, but I'll keep them in mind for the future! From Molly's Sketchbook, I give you The Purl Bee's Tooth Fairy Bags.

A long time coming...

I'm going to try to start doing more of this again...

Trash Trash Treasure

I'm cleaning house.

Not just in the normal way (I'm not very good at that anyway)--light dusting, wiping windows, that sort of thing...No, I'm cleaning. I'm getting rid of things that should have long gone (why do I still have makeup from highschool??) and things that were wishful thinking (a pair of skinny pants that will NEVER fit.

It's a process that's full of reflection. Stuff can say a lot about you--why you keep certain things, why it's hard to let other things go. I've found it's cathartic too. It's very freeing to clean out clutter that's been weighing on you, conciously or otherwise.

There are some things that I won't let go. Move after move, we'll keep carting them along, not because they're functional, or beautiful, or monetarily valuable, but because they're strings connecting my heart to the past. I just came across a box full of cards from our wedding. I'm usually not a pack rat in this way, but for some reason (maybe because that was a hectic busy time right before a move too) I kept ALL of the cards that were given to us for our wedding. Some are just signed with a name, others have a line or two of well-wishes, and still others make my eyes water to this day because of the heartfelt message sent by our loved ones.

It's easy sometimes to get caught up in the day-to-day; in minor (or major) stresses, frustrations, and anxieties. It's been an isolating time these past 3.5 years in Germany. I can't say we've made tons of close friends--but we have made some that will last a lifetime. I'm not sure how I've grown or changed, but I know that I have.

Thank you, to all of the special people in my life who've taken time to make me feel special. I'm thinking about you today and hope somehow you can tell.

To sit and eat

Playing Catch Up

I hope you were ready for a BUNCH of pictures. :)

I'm trying to play catch up yet again...I have stuff to post still on our trip to Belgium, and things to post about my birthday yesterday, but first things first: Evie's first birthday.

I've never been much of a partier and thus it wasn't natural for me to pull together a big shin-dig for Evie's first birthday. I started sweating the cake a few days ago, and bought some gum drops and icing and a strawberry cake mix, not having any clue what I was going to make. I think it turned out pretty nice. We listened to oldies, had the Blythes over, ate cake, and opened presents. Evie knew it was a special day and was in a great mood all day long. She enjoyed "eating" her cake (I'm still picking out bits of pink from Chokydar's fur, who was eagerly awaiting a taste under E's chair) and loved her new toys (Vanessa, the airplane is a HUGE hit!)

I'm behind on her 12 month letter too...I'm still digesting the fact that she's a year old.

She's One Today!

What a wonderful day! Evelyn had a ball today expermenting with cake, opening presents, and playing with her new toys and books.

More pictures and stories to come. For now, I'm off to bed!

Sharing Again...

Evie woke up yesterday from her post-shot nap feeling fabulous. I'm not kidding. She's all smiles and sunshine, all yesterday evening and through this morning. Amazing. Perhaps I should inject her with weakened live-viruses more often... (just kidding)

This morning while she was napping I was perusing babble.com and came across some thought provoking articles--too many to share, actually (but check out this one if you've got the time!). Through link clicking, however, I ended up at the personal blog of one of their contributors, The Happiest Mom. For all of you children-having-types, check it out for sure. That link is for an article entitled "WOHMs, WAHMs, SAHMs: who wins the “unhappiest” award?" and it hits home a topic that I've been mulling around for quite some time now--the fact that what is right for YOU, isn't right for EVERYONE and that simply because it's right for YOU doesn't make it better.

This thought, of course, doesn't just apply to parenting, but to just about aspect of life. I can't stand fish or ketchup, but I recognize that there's nothing fundamentally wrong about either. For many people, hanging out at the bar is their idea of a good time--I can think of few things I'd less like to do.

It's been an adjustment living in an Army community. Always before in my life I'd naturally gravitated to people with shared interests. Inevitably they understood me, because they were like-minded. In this community it's been something of a different story. I'm something of an oddball here--from my views on feminism to parenting to the way I enjoy spending my free time. I feel confident about what I believe until I'm face to face with someone looking at me with a distressed and pitying expression as I answer the "What have you been up to lately?" question. My idea of a good time is not theirs, and they worry for me, which I guess in a way is sweet. The only thing is, I feel the same baffled confusion over how they chose to spend their time, but I'm so in the minority I lose by default.

Of course the really incidious thing is that there are certain choices that probably are better than others. I think we all worry to some extent about the choices we make--as a parent, financially, spiritually, personally, etc. We seek to compare our choices with those around us, not out of some petty quest to put the other person in their place, but rather to gain a personal validation of the decision we've made and are hoping is the right choice.

Wow, all that before 10 am.

You can shoot her up, but you can't keep her down.

My poor baby. She had her one year well-visit today and received FIVE shots. Three in one tiny leg, and two in the other. I'm not going to go down the vaccination debate path (we've chosen to follow the prescribed schedule as reccomended by our doctors) but it does seem cruel to give such a tiny person so many shots all at once.

She really handled the whole experience like a pro. Actually, I think I cried before she did. I had an embarassing Michele-breaks-down-in-public-after-VERY-little-provocation moment. I undressed E for the customary weigh in and measurement and (very understandably in my mind) she began to cry as I lay her on the exam table. It's a scary thing to be stripped naked and laid under florescent lights on crinkle paper! I don't blame her in the least for losing her cool, but the tech/nurse guy (whatever) looks over his shoulder and says to me, "She doesn't spend much time away from you, does she?" with a (perhaps imagined) hint of judgement in his voice.

"Why do you say that?" I shot back.

"Oh, just because she reacts that way." he replied.

And then I was all upset. When will I stop being so sensitive about the offhand comments of complete strangers? So what if I'm her primary care giver? So what if she finds comfort in me? It's a perfectly normal and natural phase that children go through at this time in their lives to be clingy (hello, separation anxiety?). And of course then it doesn't help that he takes her measurements and after going to record them on the chart looks concerned then comes back with the tape measure to measure her head circumference once more.

"It's nothing to be worried about," he says, looking worried. "I just wanted to double check I had it right." In addition to having an apparently big head (above 95th percentile), E weighs in the 15th percentile and measures in the 25th.

When we saw our doctor, I kept it together until he asked me if I had any concerns. I started welling up a bit (HOW embarassing--go ahead, try looking not hysterical and obsessive as you cry while complaining about being made out to be overbearing and hyperprotective) as I explained the tactlessness of the nurse-man. Our doctor was very comforting and said that the nurses aren't pediactric nurses, so any observations they make are based on their own personal opinions. He went on to say that Evie's big head, in his opinion, indicates high intelligence, and that her measurements and weight are well within healthy range and that he much prefers to see children on the low end rather than the high, as is so often the case in America these days. He said she's looking fantastic and was amused (and a bit disgusted) by the carrot-baby story at the Krankenhaus. (One of the first things he said to me upon examining her was, "This orangish coloration is perfectly normal and comes from carrots. Do not worry about it.")

After the exam and FIVE shots, we also needed to go have her finger pricked so that routine bloodwork could be done. Evie was fine through all of this, although she wanted to be carried rather than put in her stroller. (All the while I'm thinking sarcastically in my head, "She doesn't spend much time away from you, does she?") After this we headed back to the car. By this point Evelyn has already ripped off the bandaid on her recently punctured finger, and after I got her settled in her carseat began work removing the FIVE bandaids on her little legs. I pulled over in the parking lot (I had already begun making for the exit) to take the bandaids from her so she wouldn't eat them. When I twisted back around in my seat, however, I discovered that my ID card (required to gain entrance on post) had fallen from where I had lodged it in my lapbelt and was nowhere to be found. Great. As I looked for it, Evie fell asleep in the back almost instantly and my anxiety increased as I imagined having to wake the baby to go through some ridiculous rigamarole in order to get on post if I couldn't find the darn ID.

It took me five minutes of crawling around on the floor board and looking in every possible crevice (of course I chose to wear a skirt today...) before I finally found it. Whew.

Evie woke when I carried her inside, but fell asleep almost instantly. She woke again when the phone rang, but again fell immediately back to sleep. She's still zonked (an hour an a half now...). Poor B.

New and (hopefully!) Improved!

Things are happenin' around here and I've had this rehaul in the works for quite some time. It's been slow going on the blog lately, but I hope to begin posting more regularly once again. I am a re-arranger at heart, and I suppose revamping my blog is just another way of moving the furniture around.

To any of you guys who'd followed on the google follower link--I can't seem to get it reinstalled properly. If you'd still like to be a follower (that sounds weird to me...) please sign up using the networked blogs link instead! I think it's available for others outside of facebook too...

I have other updates and items I hope to include in the coming days, but for now, I'm just happy to have the new look operational. I hope you like it as much as I do!

It is nice to be needed. Now go to bed.

The past few days Evie's been adjusting her schedule once again. She's been taking frequent but short naps during the day--maybe three, each only about 30 minutes long. She wakes from them still tired, but wanting to get up. Her appetite has increased and she's exploring new ways of climbing on things; just today she discovered how to step up backwards onto an 6 inch elevated surface while holding the side of her toy basket for balance support. She is so pleased with herself, I'm torn between sharing in her joy and wanting to bang my head against a door in frustration at the increasing number of ways she's finding to fall off of things.

For months now I've been enjoying a very privileged existence where Evie will nurse herself to sleep and then I simply lower her into the crib where she stretches out like a little lamb and is out like a light without another peep (please, don't hate me). I know how lucky this is. I am thankful for it EVERY NIGHT. The past few nights, however, she's nursed to sleep, but woken immediately upon meeting the surface of the mattress. She startles awake as if I've just thrown ice water on her, and is horrified at the fact that she's no longer in my arms. When she was a newborn if this sort of thing happened, you were, well...pretty much screwed. Now however, I've found that as long as I keep her lying down (sometimes easier said than done these days), I've got a chance at getting her to sleep.

As I stood there in the dark the other night, bent over double to reach her over the side of the crib, gently stroking her back and humming softly, it came to me that I've finally and fully arrived at a phase of motherhood which I have long been awaiting. Before I became a mother, I had this notion that the baby would immediately be calmed by the sight of me, by my sheer presence or the sound of my voice. I was in for a rude shock when Evie first arrived and my beautiful squalling little worm-baby could not be consoled by anything but a mouthful of boob. Now, many months ago Evie left behind her no-eye-contact, inconsolable phase and has gradually come to count on me for comfort in all the ways I had once imagined. For some reason, though, it hit home the other night as it had never done before.

There she was, sleepy, but not asleep, aware of my presence--needing my presence to feel safe and warm and fall asleep. I stroked her back and she lazily plopped her foot over and over again into the mattress. I quietly sang to her and she grasped my finger in her still tiny hand. After ten minutes of this, I (maybe more accurately my back) was painfully aware that she's not the only one getting older in the coming week, yet I also had a warm fuzzy feeling that came from the knowledge that I was able to be for her exactly what she needed me to be. She's getting older and won't always need me to help her fall asleep, but in the meantime, I'm here.

Right up my alley

I may be way behind on discovering this, but I've just found this cool website, polyvore.com for creating collages from images and text around the web. It seems it is used primarily for fashion and interior design collages, but I can many other creative applications. It has a great user interface and a bookmark you can add to your link bar so that any image found on the web can be easily clipped while on that site for use in a collage. For years now I've kept clippings from magazines and websites, but have always struggled for the best way to organize them. I've printed them out and put the in page protected binders, I've created inspiration bulletin boards, I've archived them through my amazon.com wishlist and my tumblr or here on my blog.

The thing I like so much about polyvore is that you're able to quickly resize, rearrange, bring to the forefront or send to the back any image in the set. You can of course do this sort of thing in photoshop, but it takes more time as that's not photoshop's sole function, as in polyvore. Bighugelabs.com has a neat collage feature, but they automatically crop and scale images, and sometimes the result leaves something to be desired.

I'm already excited by the possibilities for this tool as a way of visualizing a set of items. Back in March, there was a sale at DWR that nearly made me lose my mind in a frenzy of I need a dining table RIGHT NOW. I know I am susceptible to the urgency of a limited time "good deal" and so I was able to regain my sanity before I acted rashly. I like to comparsion shop, and sometimes it's hard to get a good idea about your options unless you can see them side by side. For example, with the tables, viewing them next to one another makes it easy to find strengths and weaknesses--i.e. I like the legs on this one, but prefer this other color, etc. With polyvore I can add images of chairs too to mix and match potentials there as well.

As we get ready for our big move, part of the preparation has been in selling some of our old things to clean house and pare down our possesions. I don't want to drag around a bunch of stuff I don't love, even if I'm not the one physically doing the dragging. Doing this, I've realized how much my tastes have changed over the past 4 years. As a 22 year old, I had no idea what kind of things I would really use when setting up a wedding registry, and thus many things I thought we really needed, we haven't used at all. For instance, we registered for a beautiful pattern of fine china and have used it maybe on two occasions. It's a lovely pattern, but I'm not convinced it was the best choice for our needs. I assembled our living room here piece by piece with no real plan, and it shows. Now, I like an ecclectic style in design, but there are certain pieces and colors that mix and match better than others. The more I look at images, the more I learn, and I think I've finally internalized the fact that decorating is a process, not something I should expect to do all at once. Of course, Justin lovingly shakes his head at all of this--from the satisfaction I get from comparing tables to my fickle nature and the difficulty I sometimes have making decisions.

Anyway, all that is to say, I think that polyvore will be a useful tool to help me visualize and catalogue ideas. Feel free to weigh in on the things that I post, to help me see flaws in my logic or point out things you like too!

Here's my first quick mock up. So...we already have a bed. It's a sleigh bed we bought in Oklahoma for cheap after we were married and it's perfectly functional. It's totally fine. And I want a different one. I've told myself that after I work on getting things we really need (like a dining table), in a few years I can replace our bed with a new one. Lately I've been really into canopy beds, and these are a few I've really been taken by. Unfortunately, my favorite one (bottom center by Niermann Weeks) is sold only to "the trade," meaning designers, and the selling price to me would be in the range of $8,000. Yeah.....How do I always gravitate to the most expensive possible choice?

Happy Belated Independence Day!

Happy belated Fourth! We spent Saturday with our Blythe buddies grilling and having homemade ice cream. It doesn't get much better than that. Evie was amused by all of the new things to explore at their home. We headed out the next day for a quick weekend getaway to Belgium--those pictures to come.

It's funny how being away, even for just one over night can make you appreciate home. We had a wonderful time on our trip, but it is so nice to be back. I know that the transition we're preparing for with this move will be fun and exciting, but I can't wait to get settled on the other side and re-establish a new place to call home.

Today I'm trying to play catch up with a few things I've let slide. Evie's schedule is still slightly off due to the travel disruptions, but she's happy at least, even if she won't nap. Her latest favorite activity is pulling my books of the shelf and persuing them at her leisure. I'm amazed that she has favorites--she finds the same half dozen books even when I rearrange them to try and throw her off. ;) Her taste is for:

1. Un, Deux, Trois: First French Rhymes

2. Hungarian: Verbs and Essentials of Grammar

3. MAYA: Professional Tips and Techniques

4. The Art of Drawing by Willy Pogany

5. Surrealist Art

6. American Architecture

7. The Art of Hokusai

and 8. Silent Witnesses: Early Cycladic Art of the Third Millennium BC

Who ya gonna call?

Justin turned to me the other day and said, "If I'd have known the pain of this moment, I don't think I would have ever become a father." And we're just getting started, folks. I have a feeling the pain we've felt ain't nothin' yet.

The pain of which I speak was a result of seeing Evie in pain after she face-planted into the floor the other night. It didn't actually look like a bad spill. There have been tumbles that have looked catastophic only to have her giggle and carry on as if nothing happened. Other times, a seemingly small bump will turn the world upside down. It was right before bed the other night when she decided to taste the floor with her nose and from her screaming I knew it was one that needed comforting rather than the old, "Ah, you're okay, come on let's go!" When I picked her up and brushed her post-bath hair out of her face though, her little mouth was covered in blood and her upper lip had already begun to swell.

At moments like this I've discovered there's nothing more in the world that you want as a parent than to make it right. Stop the pain. Fix the hurt. Travel back in time and prevent it from ever happening. I would have given anything to have my lip busted in her place, and from the look of fear on Justin's face, I knew he was thinking the same thing.

Here's where it gets tricky as a first time parent. You don't know how bad is bad. Was this a bad enough bump that she needed medical attention? She was exhausted and ready for bed and the only real option available for medical care was to stick her in the car, bleeding and screaming and drive 30 minutes to the hospital emergency room. I tried calling the hospital, just to talk to someone who could reassure me that she was okay--that there wouldn't be anything they could do about this kind of injury anyway, but the number listed in our phone index was wrong (of course). Still needing reassurance and phone in hand, I dialed the next number almost automatically--home. My dad answered the phone, thrilled to have a surprise call, and then settled down into comfort mode when he heard our plight. He assured me of everything I was already thinking--that it didn't sound that bad, that the fact that she was acting normally once more, giggling and smiling was indication that she was fine. He recalled times my brother and sister and I were injured, from scrapes to stitches and sympathized at our feelings of helplessness as new parents experiencing it for the first time from the other side.

So we didn't take her to the emergency room, and she's just fine. She's not even fussy at meal times, as I feared she might be from pain in her mouth. I'm amazed at her resiliance and terrified by her brazen recklessness. She's more on the move than ever. She has no sense of "the edge" and Justin mused aloud the other day about whether she'd crawl right off the Grand Canyon without hesitation. She's standing for a few seconds on her own now, so I know walking must be not too far behind. She's also decided that sitting in the bathtub is for suckers. This has greatly complicated my life. By the end of bathtime, I'm nearly as wet as her from baby-wrestling.