a look into daddy daycare

I found these on Paul's computer. Maybe this is what "getting krunk" in daddy daycare means when I'm gone...




This one is my favorite

people i love: happy birthday, katie!

Today is Katie's birthday! Here is an ode, in some of my favorite pictures, to my partner in crime/betch/bffl/and maid of honor.

We met and became friends through our d-group at Wesley during our freshman year at Auburn. Here we all are with Becca, our leader, at her bridal shower in Birmingham.


Junior year, we went to NYC for Spring Break and went on the Sex and the City tour (highly recommended, by the way... even if you don't like SATC it is a great tour of the city). Here we are on Carrie's stoop. This was one of the best trips ever. Katie was the angel from above who introduced me to the fabulous insanity that is SATC.


We got super cheap raffle tickets to see Wicked. Amazing show. (Also her idea. She'd seen it the year before in NYC and would not stop raving until I finally saw it with my own eyes.)



There are many reasons for Katie to think I am crazy, but this could be in the top 10 (maybe 20). All summer I'd been wanting to go to this little bar that I loved and had told Katie time and time again that it was awesome, low-key, great wine and dessert blah blah blah. So, finally we go and, of course, there was some sort of gay pride acoustic concert going on. (Before you are offended by me, I have no problem with people living a homosexual lifestyle. But we were living in a deep south college town so it was maybe just a tiiiiny bit odd to see it there, of all places.) It was the two of us girls, just looking for a relaxed wine-and-dessert kind of evening, in a room full of in-your-face gay women (and I mean in. your. face.) and I'm pretty sure it ruined any chance that Katie would ever go back with me again haha. But she is good about humoring my whims.


Here we are at our favorite little hang-out, our last semester in Auburn. Some of my favorite college times. These pictures make me miss my long(er) hair.


One of the many reasons I love this galpal? She actually encouraged this behavior and let me think I could win the best costume prize. She even used her fashion merchandising skillz to help me make the poncho. So selfless, she is.


Two words: GRAVE RAVE.


This picture almost makes me ache with nostalgia. At the Iron Bowl, 2007 (the last game of our college careers, wah).



And, the source of most of my nostalgia lately... our wedding weekend...

At the luncheon


Katie with Paul and I at the rehearsal


If you think that you had the best Maid of Honor at your wedding, YOU WOULD BE WRONG. Katie seriously bent over backwards for me on my wedding day. I mean... she was practically part of Cirque du Soleil. I did not have to worry about a single thing all day, she took care of everything. I will pretty much forever be grateful for that because I was in a glass case of emotion that day (and I am not of the emo kind).




Happy Birthday, Katie! Love you!



























(please don't hurt me)

everyday things that freak me out, part 2

I've been a slack blogger, forgive me. If you want to play the blame game, put your bets on Stephenie Meyer. The last three books in her Twilight series have been keeping an unbreakable hold on my free time lately. I bet there are entire blogs dedicated to their awesomeness.

6. The women from "The View." Help me. Is anyone NOT freaked out (even a little) by this bunch?

7. Leaving the house without pants on. My first thought is, "Who would do that?" but it frightens me no less.

8. Sauce. Barf. Don't even get me started on how many pieces of great sushi are ruined by sticky, questionable sauce. It doesn't even sound delicious .

9. Mayonnaise. The taste. The texture (barforrific). The way that, no matter how clean a sandwich-er you are, its greasy film always manages to coat the outside of the jar. Even typing this makes me want to scream. Maybe I have told this before but I will never ever EVER forget the one time my old roommate, K, dipped a knife in a jar of mayo and licked it right in front of me (she, very unlike me, loves mayonnaise). I may also never recover from the time I was making Paul a sandwich (or probably three, knowing his appetite) and a gelatinous glob of mayo landed on the top of my left foot. I don't care who you are, that stuff is freaky.

10. Spiders. When I see a spider in the house at 9am sometimes I have trouble sleeping at night, fearing there might be more hiding in the bed sheets. I don't even want to admit how many times I woke up the night after Paul found a black widow in our yard. Irrational, I know.

11. Oprah. Or should I say, "OhhhhPPPRUUUHHHHHHHH!" One of the most dangerously powerful women in the world. There are too many reasons I could give on this one. Now keep in mind, I didn't say that I hate her show. Though I don't like it most of the time, every now and then there is a little jewel of an afternoon hour that I can spend with her show and actually enjoy it.

You may think I'm being a little Negative Nancy harping on all of these everyday things that I loathe but never fear, my favorite and most beloved every day things are coming soon... you know, once I am no longer prey to the fictional world of Edward Cullen. ;) (I really should stop using emoticons but I just can't help myself.)

Celebration post coming soon!

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And before I forget, congratulations are in order for the Scobeys! Their sweet baby girl finally decided to make her grand debut! Congratulations, Scobey fam!

questions, part 2 - guilt

What is your least favorite thing about being a mom? Easy. I'm sure there is a better word for it but it is more or less guilt and I really think that all new moms experience it at some point. Sometimes I just feel like I can never do enough or that what I am doing is not the right thing. At night or on long drives in the car, it's hard not to wonder if maybe I could have done more or made a better choice. When I get some rare time to myself it's wonderful but in the back of my mind I almost feel guilty that I even want to get away in the first place. That guilt was really tough to get over during those first few weeks. But I just had to realize that I'm always going to make the choices that I honestly believe are the best for my family and that wanting time to myself doesn't mean I don't want to be with them. And I won't even start on the guilt of being a new working mom. That new mama guilt is hands down my least favorite thing about being a parent.

And, if you want to know my favorite... there is just nothing sweeter and more rewarding than G curled up like a little bean and sleeping on my chest and lightly breathing on my face. He's definitely not bean-sized anymore (well... I don't know that he was ever that small) and I already miss it so much. Bitty bean-sized baby's breath is the best. That and his quirky little toothless smile.

everyday things that freak me out

In no particular order.

1. Aluminum foil. In the past, aluminum foil was my best kitchen friend. I might have even loved that shiny silver wrap if for no other reason than for the sound it makes when you crinkle it around the edges of your leftovers dish. That was until I sliced my finger on its conveniently serated metal edge. Burned like the dickens and for the next two days at work (in my coffee shop days, before I was government hired help), I had to explain the Hello Kitty bandaid covering my right index fingertip. "Ohhh, you know, I just had a little run-in with my foil box. No big." And over the the past two months, idiota that I am, I've occasionally been reading a message board about homemade baby food and the Crazies are all, "If you use aluminum foil to cover the cube tray your baby is going to die!!!! The shards, the shards!!!"

2. Beef salesmen. Maybe this isn't an everyday thing for you guys but I can count at three times over the last few months since G was born (so technically, this is not an everyday thing for me either but that is not the point) that a meat salesman has come to my door. They stopped by again yesterday. Who sells steak door-to-door?! And if it's been sitting in the back of your pick-up truck all afternoon, tell me again how that's sanitary? This is enough for me to become one of those people with the "No Soliciting" sign by the doorbell.

3. Jarred baby food. What I'm really talking about here is tapioca pudding. Who in the world thought it would be a good idea to make TAPIOCA pudding... and then shove it into a jar and sell it? And why on earth, when I was 10 years old, did I get the curiosity to try baby food and then proceed to CHOOSE tapioca pudding?? I am ruined for life. Thank God for homemade baby food and the Beaba Babycook. And for crazy mom forums that remind you that aluminum foil kills.

4. Styrofoam. What IS that stuff?

5. Athlete's Foot. I've never had this, thank goodness, but I will never forget the time in the third grade when I went to Rock Eagle with my Girl Scout troop and our leader reminded us at least a dozen times to wear our Adidas sandles in the shower so we wouldn't get it. That bathroom was pretty rank so I was thankful for her warning.

...to be continued.

you can call me olga

Lately, something strange has been going on in my sleep. Or maybe I just haven't been sleeping well (I do know this much). Whatever the cause, my dreams have arrived at a new level of weird this week. It is normal for me to have dreams that leave me feeling a little cuckoo and I could probably make an entire blog series out of them. Really, they are that weird. But, for now, I will leave you with one that left me feeling particularly unbalanced this morning.

This is a repetitive dream for me. Kind of like the cliche "falling" dream. It is always the same dream in the beginning but about halfway through something changes and takes it in a different direction. For a long time, it was sort of like Bella's dream in New Moon (don't you want to punch me in the face for making this reference?) in the way that it is mostly predictable to a point and it always leaves me feeling confused when I wake. But now, it is totally taking on a life of its own and rocking my midnight world. Seriously, can't even make this stuff up.

How it starts, every time*: I am some sort of mysterious Russian spy. No one tells me this or ceremoniously dubs me worth of carrying out spy activities. I just know that my name is Olga, I am a spy and that I am carrying classified ticking-time-bomb kind of information (Usually in an ordinary envelope but sometimes in my vintage Hummel music box.). I am in the middle of a pasta wilderness and, in order to get to wherever I'm going, I have to navigate my way through chutes made of hollow pasta. Sometimes it takes many chutes, steps and ladders to get to the end, where I typically end up in a bowl of noodles, swimming and struggling my way to the edge. And at this point, the variation begins.

Last night, I started out in usual spy-envelope-macaroni-slide style but at the end of the slide, instead of landing in a pit of linguine, I land gracefully in the middle of a Manhattan Starbucks. I am dressed like a less crazy version of Mary Kate Olsen, circa 2006 (I think this came from watching the third season of Weeds). Louboutin heels, big ugly sunglasses on the table, hair all a mess and some coffee deliciousness on the table in front of me. I am trying to be cool and discreet until Lil Bow Wow walks in (to get the story behind me and LBW, you're gonna have to ask Brittany. I am too ashamed to tell it here). Luckily, I brought my camera along so I snap a Myspace-style picture with Bow Wow and get back to spy business. However, UNluckily, this grabs the attention of The Donald who is sitting two tables down, next to the window. He approaches me and says, "I know," then spins on his heel and leaves the building. I put on my ginormous sunglasses, walk outside, snap my fingers to cue the rain (apparently I can make it rain?), and follow him all the way to Tiffany & Co. It is there that I lose him but remember that I have to pick up my telepathic earpiece on the seventeenth floor (is there even a seventeenth floor at Tiffany's?... I'm pretty sure there isn't). I hop on the elevator and the little elevator-butler-guy (who just so happens to be Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka) winks, takes the envelope and hits the "Kraft Mac N Cheese" button. We shoot through the roof and I am furious because we missed the second floor. I say something in Russian and he tells me to "QUIT MUMBLING! MUMBLER!" and at that moment the elevator becomes Skybar in Auburn, AL and we are dancing to 17th floor (this was like a rap/hip hop cover band that used to come to Auburn a lot, especially during football season). I go to use the restroom and when I walk back out, I am in the Manhattan Starbucks again.

Whew. Anyone into dream interpretation? Do you have a repetitive dream like this? What is the craziest thing to ever happen in your dreamland?

*Except for the one time I started out in a McDonald's playplace and had to find the informational time-bomb in the ballpit.

five months

Yesterday, G celebrated his five month birthday! Okay, so we didn't actually do anything for it but I like to do the little blog celebration anyway. :) This is by far my favorite stage of babyness right now. He's still cuddly but growing much more independent and is so freakin happy (almost) all the time, I love it. I haven't done too much G-blogging lately so here are a few of my favorite Fun G Things right now...

Giggling
Shrieking
LOTS of babbling
Raspberries
Reaching for me/Paul from his bouncer
Fewer feedings (yes, this is a Fun Thing in my book)
Rice cereal (he looooves this whole eat-like-a-real-person thing)
Pumping his legs
Putting everything in his mouth
His neck is mostly visible now!
Chunky baby thighs... those rolls are to die for
Even better... his cankle rolls. Perfect for nibbling
Thumb sucker... I love this, it's too cute.
Napping... he's becoming a better napper for sure
He loves to grab our faces, pull my hair, chew on our noses...
Teething... I hate the fussy part, but it's fun that pretty soon we can expect some little toofies to break through!
Still loves to "stand"
Sticking his tongue out
Chewin on his little piggies
Sitting up mostly on his own










I've noticed a few people documenting other things about baby stages/sizes/more technical crazyness so, if for nothing else than reference when we go down this road with baby #2, I think I might start doing a little monthly check-in. Even though all babies are a little different, maybe it will help someone else out?? (This is really more for me and could be terribly boring, don't say I didn't warn you.)

• Clothes -- mostly still in 3-6M but some 9M. 6-12/9-12M are all still too big. (Janie and Jack is the only brand so far that has been completely non-parallel to his sizes... he can still wear a lot of their 0-3M. Which is great because their boy clothes are presh.)

• Diapers -- size 3's in both Pampers and Huggies. Medium in gDiapers (more on this later, maybe tonight) and we can use just a basic cloth prefold with the medium gD's.

• Developmental milestones -- these are things I have not put a whole lot of stock in just yet. During those first few weeks couped up at home, I read a little here and there but pretty quickly put the books down. My overall feeling on this is pretty consistent with (I think it was them) the Sears'... developmentally, it is more about just progressing and not so much about the actual timing. But I do think that it's important to check in on them from time to time. At the last well check-up, we filled out a research-based questionnaire about his physical and social/emotional developments and he was perfect on all of those which was reassuring.
  
• Feeding -- G eats about 5-6 times per day, depending on whether or not he wakes in the middle of the night. Either 4 bottles plus one feeding of rice cereal and water or 5-6 6-8oz. bottles. Sometimes he goes beyond four hours between each one.
  
• Holding the bottle -- He is loving trying to hold the bottle on his own and actually does pretty well with it most of the time. Last night, on the way home from my parents', he held his bottle for most of the feeding and I had my own little party in the backseat of the car. How wonderful it will be when he does it on his own all the time!
• Sitting -- I guess this is a developmental milestone? He is becoming such a big sitter. I can't wait until he can sit up all on his own so we can play on the floor without me supporting him.

Okay, I will stop with the Blah now. Coming soon (maybe tonight, maybe this weekend... next week??)... practicing patience, more crafting, and taking the plunge to hybrid cloth diapering. Man, this blog is just soooo interesting, huh? Ha.

the longer version

Today, on Facebook (hello, social media addiction), I gave the short version: no embolization today and no surgery tomorrow.

Here is the longer version... this morning, we woke up at the ungodly hour of 3:30am, got dressed, didn't hurry out the door at about 4:15ish. Got to Emory at about 5:30 (right on time, go us) and proceeded to wait. Didn't actually wait too long before they called me back to pre-op. Changed into the nasty gown and super comfy socks (seriously... their hospital socks are the bomb.com), put that goofy hair net on and... "Actually, they're not ready for you." I thought maybe, "Oh, they're just running a little behind, I mean it IS pretty early, even for surgeons." No... like, they actually weren't even going to be ready for me for a while. I had two choices: change back into my clothes and sit in a stiff waiting room chair or go to an empty post-op room with a TV and take a little nap. Hmmm, tough choice but I'll take number two for 500. We were in there for about... an hour and a half/close to two hours.

8:30ish rolls around... "Okay, they're calling for you... ready?" Pshh yea, let's get this show on the road. I answer the same questions again... State your name, What's your date of birth?, What are you here for?, Allergies?, Blah?, Blah blah? (I know it's necessary but those questions get seriously old. Just imagine how old they must get for the people who have to ask them.) Paul goes to the restroom, I'm about to get an IV started and one of the nurses is all, "Oh, yeaaaaa, actually they're NOT ready for you." At this point, I just knew something was up (at some point earlier in the morning I heard "emergency" a few times so that was a hint) and that, most likely, this embolization was just not gonna happen today.

So... we go back to the post-op room again... Paul goes for a little breakfast and to see my parents in the waiting area and a few minutes later he walks back in with the radiologist who starts with "I have some explaining to do." And then he explained about the five (yes, FIVE) people who came in last night/this morning with brain hemorrhaging. Obviously, an emergency of large proportions. Needless to say, with some of the remodeling they are going through, there would be no obtaining an OR for my procedure. Maybe just a little irritating that it took five hours to learn this but hey... five people somewhere in that hospital were bleeding... IN THEIR BRAIN. If I, or someone I love, were one of those people, I'm pretty sure I'd want them clearing the OR schedule too.

And so now we are just waiting to reschedule, hopefully ASAP. But, in the meantime, Paul and I are catching up on Weeds, Season 3. :)

Questions, part 1

My youngest sister-in-law, Emma, left with G a little while ago and I was already crying before she even pulled out of the driveway. It's going to be at least four to five days before I even get to see him and probably another week beyond that before I will hold him. Today, G and I went to Target for a few last minute hospital things and I got a little weepy, so I hoped that was me "getting it out of my system." Apparently not. So, now I am blogging to keep my mind busy. And, boy, I've got my work cut out for me because some of the questions I've gotten on comments, texts and email are pretty heavy stuff. Definitely might take me a few days to process a couple of them. But, in the meantime, I'll get to the first installment. If you come up with more questions to keep my soon-to-be-idle hands busy, you can always leave them in the comments, text, Twitter, email, Facebook... you know, any and all forms of social media that totally captivate my internet life. :) Round one, here we go...

1) Can you post pictures of your tattoos, or are they in un-postable spots? How long did it take you to decide what you wanted and where you wanted them? I can "soytanly" post some pictures. None of them are in inappropriate places. I thought about all of them for (probably) a year or so? The first, I had no part in designing, the second (though simple) was my own and the third I needed help to finalize. The decision on where to get them is always easy... I go by what I call the Wedding Dress Rule. If you can see it when I'm in my wedding dress, it is inappropriately placed. Really, if you can see a tattoo when I'm wearing any dress, it is too much. I love tattoos but when I am with a person, or presenting myself to someone professionally, I want their focus to be on me, not on my tattoo. And I just realized it's pretty hard to take a picture of a specific place on your own body so the quality of the first one is pretty horrid but you'll get the idea.

This little dove is on my hip. She's pretty small (probably a little less than 2" x 2") and I did absolutely no designing on this one. I really didn't have to because it was almost exactly as I wanted. My only request was that there be no olive branch.

My second, I don't have a picture, is a celtic cross on my back (also very small). Like birds, I am always fascinated by celtic crosses... no rhyme or reason, I just love them. This one I took to a guy with exactly what I wanted and he drew it up for me and while intricate crosses are beautiful, for gaudyness' sake I wanted to keep this one simple.

And my third, prettiest and largest (about 5-6" width and length), is an old sailor-style swallow on my back right "love handle" area. (This would be the one that surprises people the most and the one that, if she had her way, my mom would force me to remove. She hates tattoos, even if she never even sees them.) On this one I needed help with the design as I am not quite the gifted artiste. Traditionally, this style of swallow has three colors -- deep red, green and yellow (and you'll also see a lot of blue substituting for the green). But I am a lover of brighter, more upbeat coloring and happy detailing. I think I went two or three different times before we got the final image. I was going to go with a traditional three colors -- minty green, brassy yellow and bright red -- but I really wanted to throw the purple in for some contrast with the mint green. My favorite. (This picture was taken the day it was done so the colors pop a little more than they do now.)

(by Lance at Sacred Heart II here in Athens)

2) What are your favorite and least favorite things about teaching? Wow, this is a tough one. I actually have a post scheduled to go up later (next week) about one of the many things I've learned over the past year (my first year teaching). I'm just starting a whole new "series" about this called Student of Teaching (or What Teaching Taught Me), which I'll explain in that post. But, if I'm keeping it short (ha, riiight)...

One of my favorite things, but maybe the biggest growing pain of all, is patience. Before I started teaching, I maybe would have used "patient" to describe myself. And, if you had asked me to describe myself again in August of last year, that word would not have even made the list. Teaching is easy. Yep, you heard me right... teaching is the easy part and requires very little to no patience at all. But teaching a student how to learn is a different story completely. And getting them to actually enjoy the process? Now THAT takes patience. Took patience. And is still teaching me patience. I know I've got a long way to go before I perfect the art of patience but I've skipped across a thousand oceans from where I was in August. Like I said, a whole 'nother post coming about this one but it would fall under one of my favorite things/lessons learned.

One of my least favorite things... discipline. For the most part, if you come out of the gate with high expectations... a good percentage of the students will live up to that. But, there are some that, for many reasons I'll never understand, have so much trouble with school. Not always with the learning but with the structure. I taught a lot of students who have no structure at home, don't even know what "consequence" means. This whole concept of "discipline" will be coming up in my little lessons learned series but it is definitely one of my least favorite things.

Teaching has broadened my sense of humor and given me a little more compassion. But really... my absolute favorite thing might be hearing their fart jokes... ;)

Okay, folks, that's all I got. New Moon awaits me... (yes, I am finally on the Twilight bandwagon, now leave me alone).

Tomorrow, at an ungodly hour of the morning, I will wake up and check-in at Emory for my embolization. If I remember the computer and have working internet, I will post and let you all know how it went. Otherwise, I will see you on the other side of my surgery at some point later in the week. :) Much love, blog friends.

mr. high maintenance

Yes, those are in sequence. This baby has been high maintenance the past two days. Teething, I hate you.