Hanes Family

X-Girls

2011-07-11T19:28:00.003-05:00

(the other day, while walking through the grocery store)

Ainsley: Let's play X-Men. Amelia, you can be Rogue, and I'll be Storm. Mommy, you can be the bad girl. What's her name?

Me: Mystique?

Ainsley: Yeah, Ms. Peek.

Me: OK.

Ainsley: Ok, Rogue, you touch Ms. Peek and take her power!

(Amelia pokes me in the stomach)

Me: Oh, no! You've taken my power! I'm weak!

Amelia: SAUCE!

Heh-heh. Weak Sauce. She never fails to deliver that joke, and it never fails to reduce me to giggles.

Creative Writing for Preschoolers

2010-09-22T17:22:00.004-05:00

Literally.

Ainsley's preschool class has this great year-long project. Every few weeks, parent volunteers come into the classroom first thing in the morning, and the kids dictate stories to the parents. They are given complete control over their stories - they can tell a story about anything.

The parents write the stories, then other volunteers type them up. At the end of the year, Ainsley will come home with an entire binder of her creative writing. According to her teacher, the first few will be short, but as the year progresses, the kids will tell longer and more involved stories.

What follows is Ainsley's first entry:

My story is about loving my sister. Her name is Amelia, and I like to hug and kiss her. She wears a pink tank top. She is really cute. She also plays with me. We play tag together. Amelia always wins. And sometimes I win, and sometimes she wins.

So yeah. That's awesome.

Titmanistan

2010-06-08T13:12:00.002-05:00

Reason number 3,458,972 why my husband is awesome:

Me: Whirly Word is dumb. No way "titmen" is a word...

Jason: Sure it is. The 'Titmen' were a group of fierce warriors who took on Alexander the Great on their home soil of Titmanistan. They were so named for their homeland, and their predilection for boobs. Two things Titmen care about: country and boobs. Hence the reason they fought Alexander so fiercly, halting the expansion of his empire. Being an ardent homosexual, he was bound to oppose a great tyranny on their boob-loving ways. All hail the Titmen! True Story

Big Star

2010-02-28T13:01:00.002-06:00

Amelia: Daddy, what are you doing?

Daddy: Just sitting on the couch, being awesome.

Amelia: Can I be awesome with you?

You are already there, big girl.

That's Amore

2009-12-11T17:15:00.000-06:00

After a nice Friday family lunch at Wendy's...

Daddy: Do you girls want that leftover lasagna for dinner tonight?

Ainsley: Yeah!

Amelia: Yeah!

(Ainsley suddenly gets up and runs across the restaurant)

Daddy: Ainsley! What are you doing?

Ainsley: (in her most DUH! exasperated voice) Daaaaa-deeeee. I'm doing the basangne dance!

Monster Mash

2009-10-07T08:38:00.003-05:00

The best thing about October?

Amelia in her orange Halloween shirt walking around the house declaring:

"Boo shit! Boo shit!"

Hair

2009-09-27T22:42:00.006-05:00

Forgive me, Cosmo, for I have sinned. It has been 21 months since my last haircut.

I've come to the realization that I have had the same two haircuts for 29 years. The last time I had anything different done was when we were leaving Hawaii. I was four.

The surprisingly consistent cycle has been let hair grow out until I can't stand it anymore, chop it all off into a shoulder or chin-length bob, and let it grow out again.

The only thing good that can be said about this everlasting system of mine is that there are probably quite a few cancer kids* running around with wigs of my hair. It takes a while for me to get to the I'm-going-to-chop-it-all-off stage, and I usually have a lengthy pony tail to send in to Locks of Love.

As a birthday gift last week, my mom and sisters got me a gift card to a local salon. I had decided that at age 33, it was probably time for me to get a "grown up" haircut.

So away to the salon I went. I was shampooed, options were discussed, and snip snip snip - 40 minutes later I'd been introduced to something called "layers" and hair that has a "shape." Who knew?

I was given something called the "Victoria's Secret Haircut." I don't know hair well, but let's just say that I got to keep some of the length, and I now look super polished. And while I love it, it hasn't made me want to walk a runway in my underwear and heels, and I don't look anything like Heidi Klum. So, you know, bummed about that.

We had a lengthy discussion about color at the salon. I've been on that verge of plucking vs. dyeing the grey lately. I've just a few stray greys** here and there - nothing that tweezers can't handle. But, I'm on that line. So I think I'll be going back in a few weeks to get the color done.

I'm afraid I've unleashed a hair monster...

*On a side note, is it gauche to call them cancer kids? Something I've picked up from Jason that he says to be funny. Although, when he says it, he's always referring to Caillou - that whiny bald Canadian kid on PBS.

**And really, why is it that grey hair looks so great on men? Jason has the most awesome salt-and-pepper thing going on. Totally hot, but not a look many women can pull off. Add that to the list of why its easier to be a man.

Father Figure

2009-09-14T15:24:00.004-05:00

A stay-at-home Dad to daughters has some unique challenges, to say the least. Hitting the public restroom while out and about (without Mommy) is one that hit us late last week.

Ainsley: Daddy! You have a hose coming out of your bottom!

Daddy: Uh...

A: Its just like a hose!

This, of course, prompted a long discussion with Ainsley on Saturday about the difference between girls and boys. Or, specifically, Girl Bottoms and Boy Bottoms. With the caveat that we could talk about these things all she wants at home, but she probably shouldn't bring it up at school...

Young Folks

2009-08-17T15:22:00.003-05:00

Day 1 of Preschool went off without a hitch. Unless you count Amelia declaring herself sleepy before we managed to leave the house this morning a hitch.

We get to school, and Ainsley finds the hook labeled with her name. Because she can read her own name.

She greats Ms. Colson, and runs off into her class, leave Mommy, Daddy, and Amelia standing by the door.

Mommy: OK, Ainsley, its time for us to go. Are you alright?

Ainsley: Ok. Bye Mommy! (waves manically)

M: Can I get a kiss goodbye?

A: Oh. Sure. Bye Mommy!

She drew a picture, read stories, argued with some other kid over a plastic toy chocolate cake, and was sitting in Ms. Colson's lap on the front steps of the school at car pool time. I'd say that today was a success.

One day of school down, 18 more years to go!

Walk This Way

2009-08-06T13:41:00.003-05:00

Amelia has taken her sweet time when it comes to walking. The girl can talk circles around most babies her age, but the walking thing? She's just not interested.

About four months ago, her pediatrician recommended that we take her to some physical therapy to get her "caught up." Once there, the therapist noticed that one leg is a bit longer than the other. This caused her to walk with her feet pointed outward, one more than the other, compensating for the difference in length.

Two weeks ago, the therapist declared her "caught up." While she was walking well with good balance, she has stubbornly refused to take much more than a step or two on her own.

This past weekend, after spending some time with her cousin Lucas (a month younger than Amelia, and practically running circles around her), it seemed that some peer pressure was just what the doctor ordered. The minute we put her in her stroller at the zoo she was insisting, "Out. Walk." Still holding tightly to one finger, but she was walking everywhere.

And last night we had the breakthrough for which we've been waiting patiently. Amelia and I stood face to face in the sunroom (our only carpeted room). Waiting until she was balanced well on her own, I pulled my finger away and started walking backwards across the room. Darned if she didn't toddle her little legs right after me. We must have crossed the room 30 times last night. Ainsley decided she wanted to get in on the act, so she took a spot about 10 feet in front of Amelia, and held out her arms. Amelia high-stepped it over to "Ain-see," her arms held wide, calling out her name. She would reach her sister, launch herself around Ainsley's middle, and they would both hit the ground giggling.

Later, we were standing by the bookshelf. She spots the TV remote across the room on the couch. "Ma-mote! Ma-mote!" I looked down at her, "You can go get it, honey. You don't need me to walk you there." Amelia then gets the biggest grin on her face, walks across the room, picks up the remote, and walks it back to me. "Caught up," indeed.

Bring on the potty!

Take a Letter Maria

2009-08-03T13:26:00.002-05:00

On our way home from Illinois, we spent much time explaining to Ainsley all the states we needed to drive through, where we were, what came next, etc. Keeping her occupied while we drove "through the whole state of Arkansas" got to be a challenge. Until we hit Jonesboro...

Ainsley: Why are you laughing?

Daddy: The sign used to say "Arkansas State University." Someone took the A and the R, and now it says "Kansas State University."

A: Why did they take the A and the R?

D: Someone thought it was funny. They were having a joke.

A: Oh, Daddy. (laughing) That is a funny joke!

...
(we drive past a Dollar Store)

A: Mommy! I found the A and the R!

M: That's great, honey! They can fix the sign!

A: Yeah! What letter comes next?

M: Well, a K. Let's look for a K!

We then proceed to keep her occupied for a good hour in the car, hunting for all the letters to spell Arkansas. We get to the second S, and celebrate being done.

A: Mommy, now we can get to Louisiana! We made it all the way through Arkansas!

(Illinois) Wants Me

2009-08-03T13:24:00.003-05:00

On the way back to Louisiana after a trip to Illinois:

Mommy: Ainz - we made it to Louisiana!

Ainsley: Mommy, I don't want to live in Louisiana. I want to live in Illinois.

M: Really? Why do you want to live in Illinois?

A: Illinois is the best place for me.

Amelia: No-nois!

Hungry

2009-07-22T13:31:00.001-05:00

Amelia: Mommy Home.

Mommy: That's right, sweetie! Mommy is home from work!

Amelia: Pizza Buffet.

Not sure if I should be impressed with all her bad-ass two word phrases, or embarassed by the fact that my 16-month-old knows the phrase "pizza buffet."

Otto Tisling

2009-03-31T22:16:00.004-05:00

Ainsley: (picking up a bra from the laundry) This is a bra.

Mommy: That's right, honey.

A: I want to wear a bra.

M: You're too young to wear a bra.

A: I need to be older to wear a bra.

M: That's right.

A: I need to wear a birthday hat, and then I can wear a bra.

[and if you get the musical reference in the title, you are my HERO]

Roundabout

2009-03-30T08:32:00.004-05:00

We have affectionately labeled Ainsley's current phase the "Duck Season-Rabbit Season" phase. Basically, she'll argue about anything, just to argue. In fact, she started the weekend with the statement, "But I don't want to have fun this weekend, Mom!"

After leaving a nice lunch on Sunday, we had the following discussion:

Ainsley: I want to stop at Sonic.

Mommy: No, we just had lunch, we are not stopping at Sonic.

A: Yes! I want to stop at Sonic!

M: No!

A: Yes!

M: (under my breath) Duck Season!

A: ...

A: I want it to be Rabbit Season!

She then collapses into a fit of giggles. She is such a jerk.

Tenderoni

2009-03-17T08:01:00.001-05:00

Mommy: Let's stop and get some pizza on the way home!

Ainsley: Yeah! Mommy, I want some Tenderoni Pizza.

Wild One

2009-02-19T08:08:00.001-06:00

Dinner conversation from the other night...

Daddy: ...and Amelia didn't wake up until almost noon.

Ainsley: I'm almost nude!

D: ...

A: I only have my shirt on! I'm almost nude!

D: That's absolutely right, sweetie.

Beans, Beans, The Musical Fruit

2009-02-12T13:49:00.003-06:00

Jason was sick with a stomach bug over the weekend, and pretty miserable on Saturday. The girls and I spent the day out of the house, to let him get some much-needed sleep.

That night, at bed time, Ainsley decided Daddy needed a hug and kiss goodnight. She scrambled up onto the bed, and launched herself at him.

Daddy: That's a big hug!

Ainsley: *pppffffffffftttttttt*

Ainsley: And that's a big gas! I don't need a new diaper. I don't need new panties, Mommy. That was just gas!

So much her Daddy's girl.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

2009-01-12T21:55:00.002-06:00

Today's outing was to Storytime at the Benton Library. The librarian, Ms. Connie, read a story about winter time, that featured drawings of cardinals.

Ms. Connie: Isn't that a beautiful cardinal? What do you think those birds do in the winter time? [Ms. Connie seems to forget she's got a room full of toddlers, not familiar with "migration"]

Ainsley: They're getting ready to play baseball!

And at that point today, there was no prouder father on the planet.

She's My Man

2009-01-08T08:44:00.002-06:00

Ainsley: Mommy, you're wearing princess pants.

Mommy: That is a skirt, honey.

The Girl Gets Around

2009-01-07T16:09:00.003-06:00

December 23, 2008: Amelia crawled up on her knees for the first time.

She's been scooting like crazy, doing her "rugby crawl" for weeks now, chasing after the cats and her big sister. She would get up on her hands and knees and rock. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity of preparation, she took off while her sweet cousin Lucas watched. He was totally jealous.

And she's been going like crazy ever since. She is sneaky quick, and will disappear from sight in a matter of seconds.

When she is very excited, and crawling fast towards something she really wants, her tongue hangs out like Michael Jordan.

Now, when someone leaves the room, instead of crying and complaining about it, she just follows then.

She's also using Mama and Dada discriminately, and I swear she is using the word "books" correctly as well. The minute you bring a book near her, she bounces, squeals, flails her arms, and starts babbling "books, books, books, books."

Starting to seem like we have two freaky geniuses on our hands.

Domo Arigato, Ms. Roboto

2009-01-07T16:00:00.003-06:00

Mommy: And there's your mole! Mole! Mole! Mole! [pointing to the spot a inch below her belly button]

Ainsley: Yeah, that is my mole! [pointing to the same spot]

M: And that's your belly button! [pointing to her belly button]

A: My belly button? [presses finger into belly button, and waits expectantly]

A: Mommy! I think my belly button is broken.

Brick House

2008-12-17T14:22:00.002-06:00

Jason was getting dressed this morning, when he had to stop mid-way for a potty break. He got to Ainsley shirtless, and put her on the potty. The conversation that ensued:

Ainsley: Daddy, you don't have boobs.

Daddy: That's right. I don't have boobs.

A: Mommy has the boobs.

D: Mmm hmm.

A: Mommy took the boobs to work.

D: Yes. Mommy took the boobs to work.

A: And Mommy will bring the boobs home tonight.

D: That's right. Mommy will bring the boobs home tonight.

Summer Loving

2008-12-16T14:43:00.002-06:00

Ainsley woke up this morning, and promptly asked to put on her swimsuit and go to the sprinklers.

The high today is 33 degrees.

Gotta love a kid who wakes up each morning expecting it to be warm and sunny.

Ice Cream

2008-12-03T08:58:00.004-06:00

Ainsley's bedtime ritual involves one book, one song, and singing the alphabet. She gets to choose the book and the song.

She has a running list of what Mommy can sing and what Daddy can sing (and, at least with me, likes to remind me that I don't know the words to the Daddy songs).

"Can we sing 'Upside Down'? Mommy doesn't know the words to 'Upside Down.'"

Mommy's typical song list consists of "You've Got a Friend" (by James Taylor), "Ice Cream" (by Sarah McLachlan), and "Dream a Little Dream" (by Mama Cass). Ainsley knows all the words to each of these songs, and will sing along. I've been singing each of these to her since the day we brought her home from the hospital, and she always gets such a kick out of hearing them on the radio.

The other night during the bedtime song, Ainsley managed to create her first joke. We were singing "Ice Cream" and she started to add in her own lyrics. I have no earthly idea where she came up with them, especially since she hasn't been to the Farmer's Market in weeks now...

Ice Cream
by Sarah McLachlan and Ainsley Hanes

Your love is better than ice cream [at the Farmer's Market]
better than anything else that I've tried [at the Farmer's Market]
and your love is better than ice cream [at the Farmer's Market]
everyone here know how to fight [at the Farmer's Market]

and it's a long way down[to the Farmer's Market]
it's a long way down [to the Farmer's Market]
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from

Your love is better than chocolate [at the Farmer's Market]
better than anything else that I've tried [at the Farmer's Market]
oh love is better than chocolate [at the Farmer's Market]
everyone here knows how to cry [at the Farmer's Market]

it's a long way down [to the Farmer's Market]
it's a long way down [to the Farmer's Market]
it's a long way down to the place
where we started from...

Needless to say, much hilarity ensued, and we giggled all the way through the alphabet. Such a thrill to see her sense of humor developing.

She's Got Legs

2008-10-29T12:58:00.003-05:00

Amelia is at that stage where she kicks with her whole body when she's happy. The minute you pick her up, her little legs just go crazy.

It is SO. AWESOME. And it makes me sad to think she's our last. This baby time is going by far too quickly.

I Want to Hold Your Hand

2008-10-09T15:53:00.004-05:00

15 years and one night ago, I went to the Mascoutah Homecoming Bonfire in Scheve Park with a boy from my Senior Rec class. We parked across the park from the festivities, and walked over in the dark. The first good sign of the evening? When we got to the ditch that needed to be crossed, he jumped over and then reached back for my hand.

An eternal 15 years ago, I was nervously getting ready for my first date with a boy from my Senior Rec class. I didn't know much about him, except that he was pretty easy on the eyes, and was horribly witty. I'm not sure what impressed me more - his skill at Euchre, or his schtick about the Smurfs. Either way, my 17 year old self was seriously smitten.

We shared a disastrous double-date with Nicole and Mike. Dinner at the now-closed Paste House. I remember thinking it odd that we were at this place with great food, and Nicole only ate salad. Crazy! I don't remember what we talked about over dinner, but I remember the conversation came pretty easy.

Nicole managed to ditch Mike once we got to the dance. This meant every 20 minutes, Mike was nearby asking where she was. Had we seen her?

Years from now, I will be reluctant to tell the girls that the song playing when we first kissed? "Freak Me" by Silk. Oh-so-very 1993. While the song would be unique to us, I wonder how many other loves had their first kiss, dancing slow, on the wood floor of a high school gymnasium? A cliche beginning, to be sure. I will be heartbroken when they tear that old gym down to make room for the new school building.

A brief 4 years ago, I was nervously getting ready to get married to a boy from my Senior Rec class. It was a beautiful, warm October day. Supported by our family, and our outstanding network of friends, we said the things you say on that sort of day.

Getting married changed us subtly. While we have been completely committed to one another since that first dance 15 years ago, the wedding 4 years ago signaled a point of no return. In these modern times of quickie-weddings, and quickie-divorces, I am fascinated that both of us look at marriage as being absolute. Absolutely forever. We are in this crazy life together. And I count us lucky that when the going gets tough? We hunker down against the tough. Its us against the world. We will not be shaken. We will be what outlasts anything that comes our way. We.

473,364,000 seconds.
7,889,400 minutes.
5,479 days.
683 weeks.
15 years.
1/2 my lifetime.

I absolutely adore Jason's graying hair. Its a physical reminder of the amount of water under our bridge. After all of this time together, he still does it for me. There's no one on Earth I'd rather live with, love with, laugh with, parent with than him. I have never once regretted finding him so young. Committing so young.

Happy Anniversary, my love. We still have a long road ahead. Now, let's go hold hands for a while. For old time's sake.

Babies Are Born Happy

2008-10-08T13:56:00.002-05:00

Happy, and apparently, freakishly smart.

Let's start with Sweet Amelia. She continues to be the most snugly baby you'd ever meet. She is focused, contemplative, and relentlessly happy. Even in the midst of full-on teething, it take almost no effort to elicit a beaming grin from that girl.

She is rolling and scooting like crazy. You can't leave her alone for long, as she has a tendency to roll herself under a bed or couch. Her ability to focus is amazing, especially considering her sister's ability to focus. She sits up well by herself, and we have spent the last few weekends of temperate weather sitting together on a blanket in the back yard.

Amelia's first tooth came in on October 3, just barely breaking the surface. Based on how the rest of her gums look, the other aren't too far behind.

Solid food has been a problem. Her first meal went spectacularly. Sweet potatoes, all mashed up fine. She enjoyed the meal a great deal, or, at least, enjoyed the process of eating. Since then, she's been miserable. She shows absolutely no interest in solid foods whatsoever. She seems to enjoy playing with the food, so her one meal a day is quite a messy event. But she doesn't seem to want to EAT it. We've tried a few foods so far, sweet, savory, or plain - none seem to change her mind. We're sticking with a relaxed one meal a day regimen for now.

At the grand age of 30 months, Ainsley has discovered spelling. And reading. And phonics. All at once. Her favorite game to play right now is "What does **** start with?" Where **** is whatever word Mommy or Daddy can think up. She seems to get a bit bored with words she knows, and prefers new, exciting words.

Every time she gets a cup of water, I hear, "W-A-T-E-R, Mommy. W-A-T-E-R. Water." The list of words she can spell and read is growing exponentially. She likes to hear what letters make up words, and relishes the big words. Goldilocks and Popsicle are two of her favorites to hear.

Ainsley will be dressing as Super Why! (or, Ainsley-Whyatt) for Halloween this year, her first year of trick-or-treating. Amelia will be tagging along as her "Why Writer." I am secretly thrilled that Ainsley so wants to be the leader of the Super Readers, and not one of the peripheral girl characters. Not that there's anything wrong with Red or Princess Presto. But my girls wants to be the bad ass (if geeky) leader of the Super Readers. We've even fashioned a "Book Club" in her room by tying a canopy over her bed, making it more like a cave.

Time is flying. So fast it makes my head spin and my heart hurt.

Love Bites

2008-07-21T14:10:00.002-05:00

Last weekend we introduced Ainsley to freezer pops. Love at first bite, to say the least. She already had a fondness for ice cubes - but add in a little fruit flavoring and some sugar, and its a perfect treat.

Last night Jason pulled out a blue pop. He cut it in half, and handed it over to her. I said, "I wonder what flavor that is. Blue raspberry?"

Ainsley takes a bite, looks at it thoughtfully, and proclaims, "That's blue cherry!"

I give Jason a look as if to say, "Ha. What are the odds?"

Then he takes a bite of her pop. Sure enough - BLUE CHERRY.

That is one impressive palate on that girl. Last weekend she was downing two bowls of miso soup at the sushi place, and this weekend she's deciphering freezer pop flavors.

1 is the Loneliest Number

2008-06-27T07:21:00.002-05:00

Ainsley has had a bit of a mental block with the potty training. She's had the peeing on the potty down for weeks now. But anything else? Not so much.

We have encouraged her to poop every time she's in the bathroom. "Time to Poop!" I have even developed my own little "poop, poop, poop" dance and song.

She gets 1 piece of candy (either an M&M or Reeses Pieces) every time she successfully pees on the potty. We've been trying to bribe her to poop by offering 5 pieces of candy. I don't think this concept really sank in.

Until last night.

On purpose or by happenstance, Ainsley managed one tiny little poop on the potty last night. After talking with Daddy about all the places you don't poop: on the floor, in your panties, on the chair, on the booster seat, on Mommy, on Amelia, she managed one speck of poop. Oh the celebration! We shouted, clapped, and made a big deal of counting out 1-2-3-4-5 Reeses Pieces.

And then the light bulb went on.

Not 10 minutes later, she was on the potty again for another miniscule poop. And now it was time to, "Count the Reeses Pieces!"

I could see her thinking it over. "The 5 pieces of candy earlier weren't just a fluke. If I POOP I get LOTS OF CANDY!" And that opened the floodgates (poopgates?).

Another 10 minutes, and Mommy (the lucky parent of the night), was rewarded with a grown-up size poop. IN. THE. POTTY.

Jason had stepped outside, and I regret flushing that bad boy away before he had the chance to admire.

I am anxious to hear if she is able to keep it going today.

But last night? You couldn't have found two more proud parents.

Three Times a Lady

2008-06-24T17:27:00.001-05:00

Amelia hit the 3-month mark last week, and is finally coming out of her shell bit by bit. First, the stats. She's now 23" tall (50th percentile), and weighs 13 lbs. 4 oz. (60th percentile).

And, following in her sister's steps, her head is 16" (75th percentile).

She is still my roly poly baby, and is growing nicely. Her chin is still huge, and I even managed to catch it in her car seat the other day (poor thing!).

Amelia's temperament is so much more serious than Ainsley's ever was. She is exceptionally observant, and takes everything in with her quiet, wide eyes. She seems to reserve her grins and coos for me, and we tend to have lengthy conversations once I am home from work in the evening. Jason says she is never more animated than she is with me, but I wonder if he doesn't say that to make me feel good.

Amelia shows some genuine interest in her big sister, although she seems to eye her cautiously. The ever-rambunctious Ainsley is often a human projectile, and her movements are unpredictable. Amelia is quite the cuddler, and seems to enjoy it when we are all sitting still reading books. Although, those moments never last for long.

On the nights we have a family dance party in the kitchen, Amelia prefers the slow dances.

We've all be suffering from a head cold for the last week or so, making our house quite the snot factory. Amelia is such a tough girl - handling the saline drops in her nose like they're nothing.

Now, if only we could get her set on a regular bed time...

Daughters

2008-06-17T17:24:00.003-05:00

On Sunday we took Jason out for brunch to celebrate Father's Day.

The spot we picked was a nice Italian place, and someplace we had not yet tried. The food was amazing, and service superb. The brunch menu included all-you-can-drink Bellini's. Glasses were barely half-full and the wait staff was there with Champagne and peach puree. It was great.

What made the morning especially great was our immensely well-behaved two year old. Ainsley was an incredible pleasure throughout the meal. I think the warm bread helped - she was able to get something on her belly while we waited for the "real" food. But she laughed and entertained, and even used the potty like a big girl. She also ate like a champ - tortellini with peas and ham. Daddy even convinced her to try some of his carpaccio, and the prosciutto was a huge hit. But the best new taste? Lemon gellato.

I know so many parents who don't take their kids out to restaurants, especially nice restaurants. And then, when they decide to finally eat out, they don't understand why their kids are so poorly behaved. Our theory is that the more you go, the more they get used to what's expected of them.

Amelia handled herself beautifully as well - people-watching quietly through most of the meal. She did decide she wanted to eat at one point (seems she always likes to eat when the rest of the family does). And, I have to admit, I get a secret thrill at breastfeeding in "nice" places. The fancier, the better. We are always discretely covered (yay, Hooter Hiders!), but I did enjoy the dirty looks from the high-falutin' older ladies enjoying their eggs benedict. And while I did retreat to public restrooms a number of times with Ainsley, I absolutely refuse with Amelia.

Skipito Friskito (clap, clap)

2008-06-10T21:45:00.006-05:00

Ainsley is a passionate reader. Which, is interesting because she can't yet read. This doesn't stop her, though.

Lately, her preferred bedtime book is "Skippyjon Jones." And while its hard to read aloud, it is quite the enjoyable story. Skippyjon imagines himself a Chihuahua, joining a band of banditos south of the border. Skippyjon sings the following:

"My name is Skipito Friskito. (clap, clap)
I fear not a single bandito (clap, clap)
My mood is so mellow
I'm sweet like the Jell-O
I get the job done yes indeedo. (clap, clap)"*

Ainsley memorizes every book we read her, and this is no exception. For the past few days she's been entertaining us by reciting:

"My name is Skipito Friskito.
I fear not a single bambito
My mellow's so mellow
I'm sweet like the Jell-O
I get the job nice-indito."

Somedays I wish my mellow was so mellow.

*Skippyjon Jones by Judy Schachner

Shoop Shoop

2008-06-06T08:33:00.001-05:00

My gorgeous nephew and his parents have been visiting this week. He is an amazingly sweet baby, but I am surprised at how different he feels in my arms. Seems my arms were meant to hold my babies.

Every night Ainsley's bedtime ritual begins with, "Time to kiss everyone." She then proceeds through the house offering kisses to whomever may be around. For the grown-ups in the house, she manages a decent pucker for her kiss.

The babies, however, get an entirely different smooch.

When its time to kiss Lucas and Amelia, they each get a good wet lick on the tops of their heads.

I don't know why its developed, but this is apparently the best way to kiss a baby.

And let's face it. Babies taste gooood.

The Dangling Conversation

2008-05-27T17:01:00.002-05:00

Ainsley's newest addition from Daddy's favorite phrases?

"The boob juice is working."

Ode to PMS

2008-05-27T08:10:00.004-05:00

If I were a writer, or at least, a better writer, I would compose an eloquent, heartfelt poem about Aunt Flo.

But, I don't do poetry.

There really should be a rule that says you don't blog when suffering your first case of PMS in a year. Clearer heads are now most certainly prevailing. Oh, the bloating, irrational thought, and inexplicable bad feelings. I had almost forgotten what a pain all that is. Here we go, Mirena!

The potty training continues at our house. Ainsley has gotten the peeing on the potty down pat. Even when there is barely a trickle in there, she is ready to go "on the potty!" Poop, on the other hand? Not so much.

We started her using the "Naked and $75" method. The only thing this system seemed to teach her was how to squat. The idea is that the feeling of pee and poop on your legs would motivate you to sit on the potty. Ainsley just figured if she squatted, she'd stay clean. The jerk.

Then the week before last, after another accident, we sat her down and had a serious conversation about where you go potty. We told her that it was not OK to pee on the floor or the couch (ugh, don't get me started on that one!). She woke up the next morning and proceeded to go three straight days of using the potty like a big girl.

She then spent a couple days where she seemed to lose interest in the potty. She would rather continue doing whatever she was doing, instead of taking a potty break. So we instituted a reward system - one M&M for using the potty. And as Ainsley has had very little exposure to candy - and no exposure to chocolate - this instantly renewed her interest in the potty.

At the end of last week, Jason awoke to Ainsley sans pull-up. She decided she had to poop, but didn't want to actually go in her diaper. This seemed a good sign. So for two mornings in a row, she pulled off her pajama pants and pull-up, and proceeded to poop in her crib. While this was a horrible mess to clean up, we took it as a breakthrough of sorts - she no longer wanted to rely on a diaper.

So over the long weekend, I got up extra early, to get her out of bed before she managed to go. Which mostly worked. We were up at 7:15 and on the potty. But no poop.

In fact, Saturday morning we must have sat on the potty every five minutes for the first half-hour she was awake. Finally, I put her in big-girl panties, and let her go. Not a minute later, there was the poop - in her panties.

She seems to have developed some sort of aversion to pooping in the potty. We are working with the reward system - offering TWO M&Ms for a poop. We'll see how that goes. Of course, as smart as she is, this could all be an elaborate ruse to manipulate more candy out of us. I could be wrong, but she does show some evil genius characteristics....

Your Body is a Wonderland

2008-05-21T15:41:00.004-05:00

Amelia had her two-month check up this afternoon. She's growing just as she should. She's not as tall as Ainsley was at this point, but she weighs about the same and has the same gigantic head. She is a roly-poly, happy little girl. She seems to be more easy going than Ainsley, and even favored the nurses with smiles today. Ainsley always seemed to be pissed off at the doctor's office. Although, today she walked away with a couple stickers and a sucker - so she may be changing her mind on that front.

For the past couple weeks, I have been thoroughly unhappy with my weight. I know, Amelia is only two months old, and I should certainly give myself more time to work off pregnancy weight. But the idea that I'm still wearing all my elastic-waisted pants? Horrifying.

And I am embarrassed to say that today? Today I projected. Projected the hell out of my weight issues onto my darling little girl. Actually had the thought that she was too roly-poly. What the crap is that all about? A two-month-old is too fat? What on earth am I thinking? Am I seriously thinking that? Ainsley was always so tall for her age, I know with her I could easily chalk up the weight to her gargantuan height. She's an Amazon.

I have now spent the last half-hour of my life feeling like total crap because those thoughts ran through my head. And I know that it is simply my weight issues rearing their ugly fat-ass head.

I had just read this article before heading to the doctor. Which pretty much sums up all the things I want to protect my girls from. They should not be subjected to poor-body-image issues. And I realize how hard that's going to be for me. That means not obsessing over my weight in front of them. Not talking about how bad it feels when clothes don't fit just right.

The girls are going to be influenced by so many external forces. There was a girl in the waiting room today, first grade maybe? Obsessing over her new Bratz doll. Personally, I find these (as well as Barbie - who seems so tame by comparison) an absolute affront to humanity. And as much as I hate them, there are thousands of girls out there who have them. What if one of my girls is friends with one of those girls? I can certainly keep that crap out of my house, but I can't control what other parents allow. Its this sort of thing that keeps me up at night. And what makes me give serious consideration to homeschooling.

Its not just protecting them when you control the situation. Its teaching them how to handle themselves when we aren't around. Its teaching them confidence, and courage, and to not care what other people think.

But how can I teach those things when I still struggle with them?

All the Things She Said

2008-05-14T16:50:00.003-05:00

Toddlers all reach a point when they simply repeat everything you say. There's no better example than Pearl the Landlord.

Most toddlers will forget all those things they repeat. My toddler? Not so much. Not only has she shown an aptitude for mimicry, she has illustrated time and time again the ability to remember phrases from months ago and then to use those phrases appropriately. The girl, she has mad verbal skills.

This brings us to last night. Ainsley was in a particularly monkey-say mood, and we had already witnessed a "Dammit!" or two she repeated from the television. And, for the record, we were watching a primetime sit-com. Conscientious parents that we are, we ignored the outbursts hoping she would forget it. And then the real fun began.

We are in the midst of potty training. To encourage use of the potty, when she asks we'll leave her bottomless. This makes it easy for her to sit on the potty herself, and honestly, she seems to enjoy the nudity.

Dinner last night included rice (mmmm - Uncle Ben's Wild). Ainsley always makes an absolute mess trying to shovel as much rice as possible into her mouth. And while her spoon skills have become quite good, she prefers to use her hands with foods she particularly likes. Rice gets everywhere.

As Jason was wiping her hands and face after dinner, he stood her up to wipe the rice off the rest of her. Mostly under his breath he muttered, "You've got rice on your poon."

We have always referred to the girl parts as "bottom" in the past. Jason simply slipped up. Unfortunately, he picked the wrong night to do so.

We then had to hold it together as much as possible as our darling two-year-old ran through the room singing, "Got rice on my poon. Got rice on my poon."

Needless to say, the minute she was out of earshot, we were both in tears from laughing so hard.

But don't worry - this will SO come back to bite us in the ass. No doubt the next time we have a meal out that involves rice, the restaurant will be treated to a rousing chorus of "Got rice on my poon."

These Are Days

2008-05-12T08:04:00.005-05:00

This past Mother's Day weekend was thoroughly unproductive - but oh, the fun we had.

We started the weekend with Kindermusik Graduation. Its the end of the "semester" for Kindermusik, and there was a small party on Saturday morning. Ainsley's dexterity has really come a long way this time - she is able to do so much that she couldn't at the start of this session. She still spends most of her time running/jumping/galloping around the room, but now she does whatever movement everyone else is doing (tapping the sticks, shaking the bells, etc.). Miss Cindy pulled out a bubble-machine at the end of class, and THAT was a lot of fun.

Toddlers are supposed to have such short attention spans. Ainsley? Not so much. As soon as the "good bye" song starts, she starts to cry - SO disappointed that class is over already. Luckily, Jason's new Mom's Group will have plenty of activities to fill the week until the next session starts.

Saturday was hot - into the 90s already, and its barely May. Although, the overcast skies and cool breeze made the afternoon bearable. Jason had a tennis tournament, and had two matches to play on Saturday. I decided to have a trial-by-fire, and take both girls out by myself. Silly, Mommy.

Getting everyone loaded up was no problem. Getting everyone unloaded was no problem. We found a nice spot under a tree, and spread out our blanket. Ainsley has been reading a lot of Winnie the Pooh lately, and was excited to go on her first picnic. I had packed snacks, and the tennis club had sandwiches available.

Amelia took to the afternoon like a champ - napping in the shade on the blanket. There was so much activity all around, however, and Ainsley was hard to keep up with. At one point, she even ran onto the tennis courts during someone's match.

We walked down to the court where Jason was playing, and still had trouble finding a spot where we could keep out of trouble. Finally left the tennis club proper, and found a spot between the courts and the parking lot. Luckily, the overcast skies made a shade tree optional. The girls were slathered in sunscreen anyway, but still.

Amelia spent the time napping, and tasting the breeze - any time the wind would pick up she's turn her face into it and stick out her tongue. Ainsley ran and ran and ran. And ran. She drank out of a grown-up water bottle, shared some crackers, and generally wore herself out.

Sunday, we got up for "special breakfast called brunch" as Ainsley explained. Had a great meal at one of our favorite brunch spots, and then went for a walk in a park. The cool front had made its way through, and it was 70 degrees and sunny all day.

Amelia is starting to talk so much now. Usually in the evenings, just before bed time. She'll smile and jabber away - trying to join into whatever conversation the rest of us are having.

So, pretty much a perfect weekend...

Having My Baby

2008-05-08T13:36:00.002-05:00

My Sweet Amelia,

Yes, I did a better job of chronicling my pregnancy with your sister. I will probably apologize for that a few more times during your life, but this is the first. I'm sorry I didn't write much of anything while I was pregnant with you.

It really started as a precaution - I had a miscarriage a few months before I became pregnant with you, and was intensely worried that the same would happen again. So I put off writing those first few months, just to be sure. And then, the laziness took over. I have no other excuse.

The first half of your life on the inside was pretty uneventful. Except for Daddy and myself being worried like crazy that we would lose you, it was pretty easy. The morning sickness was a bit worse with you than it was with your sister, but still not bad.

I felt you moving in there pretty darn early. So early, in fact, that Captain Gyno told me that it must be something else - there was no way I was feeling YOU. But, in my opinion, once you feel a baby do a backflip in your abdomen, you don't mistake that feeling for anything else. You were fairly active, mostly with kicks and punches. You got yourself head-down and stayed there for a while - you did not somersault as much as Ainsley did.

While with your sister all I wanted was spicy food, I couldn't stomach it with you. No Mexican, Indian, etc. You seemed to want sweets. Or, at least, that's all I seemed to want. Sweets and garlic. For a while it seemed like I was eating garlicky Italian food every other day.

Oddly enough, I gained the exact same amount of weight with both of you. More evidence, in my mind, that you are going to gain what you gain - and there's not much you can do about it either way.

This time around it was harder in general to be pregnant. Not only was I huge and exhausted, I was still trying to chase a toddler around the house when I wasn't working. And Ainsley can wear out a healthy, non-pregnant adult in no time.

Since we had your sister already, Daddy and I both spent time wondering how alike you would be - and how different. Would you have the same curls? The same striking blue eyes? Would you be a heavy sleeper? I was worried about neglecting your sister once you arrived. I was worried how she would react to you. I was worried about finding the extra love - your sister filled my heart in such a way, I was not sure I had room for more love. How can anyone stand that much love?

We were late into the pregnancy when the trouble started. Certainly not trouble caused by you - you were in there minding your own business. The trouble started and ended with a grumpy ultrasound technician.

We were at the doctor's office for a 34-week ultrasound. Daddy and Ainsley were there. Ainsley enjoyed seeing you on the monitor, but always got upset when the tech was pushing that ultrasound thing around on my belly. The tech at the Captain's new office was always in a bad mood. Always in a hurry. And always always annoyed by Ainsley. This visit was no different.

So our grumpy, annoyed, and hurried technician was doing some measurements on you. Everything - and I mean everything - was measured at just the right size. Until she got to your femur. And at your femur, she measured it small. Once she got the short measurement, she did not bother to measure anything else.

After the ultrasound, Daddy took Ainsley out (she doesn't wait well in doctor's waiting rooms), and I waited to see the Captain. Once in his office, he mentioned the short femur. He was very relaxed - and even commented on the accuracy (or lack thereof) of this particular tech. However, since she made notes on your test results, he felt we should follow up. And by follow up, I mean run some further tests looking for Down Syndrome.

And while your Mommy held it together in the office, once she got out into the hall to call Daddy she totally lost it.

At this point in the process, we had had 3 tests that check for markers for DS (all passed with no problem), and at least 4 ultrasounds where your measurements were fine. The Captain scheduled us for an additional ultrasound at another hospital, just to check. Unfortunately, this particular office was busy, and we had to wait for 2 weeks to get in there.

After an agonizing two weeks, we got to see the specialist. She checked everything else on you - arm length, fingers, toes, nose, everything. Everything, in my mind, our original tech should have checked once she saw your legs were a little short. And everything was perfect.

So here we are - only 2 weeks to go, and we had confirmation of your perfection. Things were definitely looking up.

Until we hit that 38 week mark. And Mommy's blood pressure went up. It wasn't too awful - but it was certainly high for me. You were still doing just fine. But Mommy had to cut back to half days at work, and spend a lot of time with her feet elevated. Ainsley and I read a lot of books that last week before you go here.

We were scheduled for our c-section on March 17th, which put you at 39 weeks (or, at least, that's what we thought. But more on that later).

So there, Sweets, is the abbreviated version of what it was like to be pregnant with you.

Dream a Little Dream

2008-05-07T14:42:00.003-05:00

I know that I'll jinx things by writing them down, but Amelia has slept through the night - the entire night - for the last two nights in a row. She gets down by about 10:30 (which is at least 2 hours later than I'd like), and has slept right through until I wake her to eat at 6:30. I actually had dreams the past two nights!

Ainsley's favorite book of late has been "How to Catch a Heffalump" featuring the Winnie the Pooh gang. Seems like every night when I get home from work I am greeted with, "Wanna read How to Catch a Heffalump?" Which, with her deliberate enunciation and 2-year-old voice, is really the cutest sentence in the English language. And while she can manage the book title with no problem, she stumbles horribly over Christopher Robin. Christopher Robin will forever in my mind be "Christmas for Robin."

Amelia has taken to lighting up whenever Ainsley is near. Ainsley likes to sit next to Amelia and point out all her baby parts. "That's her little hand. That's her little fingers. That's her little toes. That's her little belly." Amelia seems to get such a kick out of the attention...

Rebel Yell

2008-05-05T16:35:00.002-05:00

When Ainsley was very little, she didn't really cry. Perhaps it was just her personality, or perhaps as new parents we simply attended to her the minute she started. She made a plaintive, "Neh! Neh! Neh," whenever she wanted something.

Amelia, on the other hand, has quite the set of lungs. From the very start, that girl can cry with the best of them. Again, either personality or simply the need to compete to be heard with a toddler.

As much as the girls look alike, they are already showing differences in personality. Where Ainsley was a mover and shaker from the womb, Amelia is more the quiet observer. No less interested or focused than Ainsley was, she seems to simply like to watch. Interesting that she is overall more quiet, even with her stronger lungs.

As I did with Ainsley, we have started to read "The Hobbit" at bedtime. And while the sound of my voice seemed to sooth Ainsley to sleep, Amelia seems to perk up when the story starts.

Amelia has started to grin more and more - even when she's not asleep. Actually, she's favored us with smiles almost from the day she was born. If you touch her cheek or belly in just the right way, she will offer up a toothless grin.

So far, Amelia has shown that she loves bath time. She has not once cried in the tub, enjoying the warm water, having her hair washed, and simply being naked. Every night after dinner Ainsley asks if we can give Amelia a bath. Of course, Ainsley's version of helping consists of her standing at the sink with me, playing with an extra wash rag in the water.

The first few weeks have been so different this time around. I feel like I have such little time to reflect on the changes that Amelia has brought to our lives - any time spent not feeding Amelia is spent offering attention to Ainsley. I am still shocked (as I was two years ago) at how the dynamic of our family was changed instantly when she was born. Even Ainsley gained a new title - Sister added to daughter, granddaughter, and niece.

Nursing Education

2008-04-30T14:19:00.000-05:00

Ainsley seems interested in all things nursing related. She likes to sit right next to us (if she can) while Amelia is eating. She seems to understand the process, in general, and likes to give a running commentary:

"Amelia is hungry. Amelia is eating. Amelia is eating milk. Amelia is not done eating. Amelia is still hungry. Tickle feet!"

Any mention of milk seems to devolve into "Moo says the cow," but she's come up with two statements all on her own in regards to nursing babies.

Whenever Amelia is fussing and ready to eat, we get into our nursing position (whether in the rocker, on the sofa, or at the dinner table - she seems to love to eat dinner with us most nights).

Ainsley immediately launches into, "Time to take the boobs off."

I think she's confusing off and out - but I'll be darned if I know where she got this little gem. She loves to announce when its "Time to take the boobs off." Certainly not something I've said, and I've not heard Jason say.

After Amelia is done, and I'm burping her on my shoulder, Ainsley likes to help "pat." So she'll sit and pat Amelia's back, telling me that she's helping to, "Make Amelia feel better."

Then, she'll look down at my still-open shirt, and inform me that its, "Time to put the boobs away."

The Namer of Animals

2008-04-28T13:35:00.000-05:00

While I nurse Amelia elsewhere earlier in the day, I always nurse her in the rocker in her room at bedtime. Ainsley likes to be with us, and she will either sit on the glider-ottoman and help rock ("Rock Amelia. We're rockin'."), or play with Amelia's toys. Playing with the toys consists of dragging the basket into the middle of the room, and up-ending the entire thing, spilling the toys everywhere.

For the last few evenings, we've made a game out of picking up the toys. Ainsley will drop them one and two at a time into the basket, and we count each toy (52). She seems to enjoy this a great deal, and will even tell me the next number if I'm too slow in saying it. She surprised us last night with "forty-three."

Last night she picked up a toy to carry it to the basket. She stopped with her back to me - I could not see what she held in her hand. She proclaimed it a "Duckbunny." She likes to give things a name.

"Duckbunny," she says again. I ask her, "Ainsley, will you show me what you have?"

She turns to show me what will forever be known as the Duckbunny - a small stuffed duckling with bunny ears she got in her Easter basket the year before last.

I ask you, have you ever heard of such keen logic? Of COURSE its a Duckbunny. There is no other possible answer.

She then proceeded to carry the Duckbunny to the toy basket, alternating "Quack, quack, quack" with "Hop, hop, hop."

The Girl[s] of Summer

2007-08-28T14:39:00.000-05:00

Dear Ainsley,

After a phone call with Grandma last night, I realized that I should be writing down all these stories I've been sharing. You are getting so big so quick, that I have to remind myself to take a break and document as much as I can.

Your vocabulary continues to grow by leaps and bounds. You repeat EVERYTHING. And your retention is astounding. One of the words you know is "lotion." We always put lotion on after your bath, and you easily recognize the lotion bottle. What amazed me last week was while we were flipping through a Parents magazine, you were able to point to ads for lotion. OTHER lotion. NOT the lotion we use. That seems pretty complex to me....

You are now able to count to 10, except for 7. Not sure why you like to skip over seven, but you do. You will sporadically get through all your numbers, but most of the time you like to yell out what's coming up. We'll be on 3, and you'll yell out 5 until we get there. I don't think you grasp the idea of "counting" items just yet, but you do know your numbers pretty well.

You request the alphabet at least 10 times between the time I get home from work and your bed time. I can only imagine how many times Daddy recites it during the day. Like your numbers, you enjoy shouting out your favorites as we approach. You can say, "A, B, C," then you skip ahead to "F." From what I've seen you can recognize ALL your letters on site. We have foam letters in the tub, as well as blocks with letters. You will pick random letters/blocks up and tell me what they are. You do this even for the letters you don't remember when saying the alphabet. X appears to be your favorite letter so far.

We have been working lately on both your letters and numbers, so I had some expectation that you would pick up on them. What surprised me last week was that you will also yell out lines to your books before we get there. I know that I have the books memorized, but did not realize you were doing the same. One of your favorites is "The Shape of Me" - a Dr. Suess book you got from your Aunt Sara. There is a line that says, "Just think about the shape of beans, and flowers, and mice, and big machines." You shout out "and mice" almost as soon as we reach that page. Took me completely by surprise the first time you did that, and I didn't realize at first what you were saying. Then it hit me that YOU were reading to me. We both had a good laugh about it, and you seemed very proud of yourself.

The other milestone we've reached recently is your understanding that the baby in the mirror is YOU. On Saturday, I pulled your hair back into a barette. You made your way into Mommy and Daddy's room, and proceeded to check out the baby in the full-lenghth mirror we have on the closet door. Not 10 seconds after seeing your reflection, you reached up and pulled out that barette. You saw it in the mirror first, and just knew it was on YOUR head. Later that same morning, I put on you some sunglasses you got from your Aunt Beth. You know what glasses (sasses) are - you always try to steal mine. The idea that you have glasses of your own? GET OUT. Every time I put them on, you ran into the bedroom to look at yourself in the mirror. I can just imagine your thoughts, "That is one COOL baby."

Daddy and I have tried to cultivate a keen appreciation of music in you. As of now, you pretty much love it all. Everything from Daddy's dance music, to Mommy's Simon and Garfunkel. There are a few songs from Sesame Street that you request incessantly. Your favorite is "Rubber Duckie." To request this, you will walk up to either Mommy or Daddy, shout "Duck!" repeatedly, and shake your little fanny back and forth until we start to sing. Your Aunt Beth used to do the same dance in front of the TV when she was a little girl. While Mommy gets tired of singing "Rubber Duckie" over and over and over again, the request and dance never cease to be endearing.

Yesterday, you had a play date at the park (also known as "out side") with your friend Julia. Its been so hot lately, we've been reluctant to let you out for too long. Daddy said you played hard yesterday. When you got home from the park, just after Mommy got home from work, you were about the cutest I've ever seen you. Curls matted with sweat, bright pink flushed cheeks, dirty knees, and smelling of sunshine and sunscreen. I got a big hug, and the immediate demand to provide a lap in which you could sit. After a few books, we had dinner and a bath, and all was right with the world.

Love,
Mommy

The Power of Love

2007-07-25T14:38:00.000-05:00

Dear Ainsley,

Mommy has no idea what happened to June. It slipped by too quickly, and we're just now recovering. Sorry about that.

You, my sweet girl, are quite the bundle of energy. The hours you are awake are spent in constant movement. Not just movement - but fast movement. If its worth going to, its worth going to fast, I suppose. And what destruction you leave in your wake! "Hurricane Ainsley" has now torn up every room in the house, and Daddy and I are constantly moving more and more things out of your ever-expanding reach. I just don't know where you get all that energy! It seemed like you went from taking your first steps, to RUNNING in the blink of an eye. I think if there were a way to channel toddler energy, lightning would not longer be necessary to power the flux capacitor. We could just hook you up...

You have also grown more and more affectionate, which I just adore. You have even proffered kisses unrequested, which is simply the best feeling in the world. In the evenings, when I get home from work, you come tearing in from whatever room you are currently demolishing, squealing, grinning, arms and legs akimbo, wanting a hug and kiss from your Mommy. I have to confess, I spend far too much time during the day thinking about that moment when I will walk in the door at night.

Your vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds. Daddy is still your favorite and most-used word, followed closely by Elmo. You know pants, towels, outside, lotion, bath, bed, pee, brush, hair, nose, mouth, toes, shoes, hat, cracker, toast, up, down, kiss, shirt, socks, Fred Bird, and cat. Which really, covers all the basics, no? OH! And you know NO. You have developed the most annoyingly charming habit of picking up something you know you are not supposed to touch, and when Mommy or Daddy catches you with the contraband, you simply toss the item on the floor and say, "No, no, no." You've broken one remote control with this tactic. Is it that you think we won't bother to punish you, since you are showing us you already know the rules? Or do you think we didn't see you toss said item, and you're trying to act innocent? Whatever it is, it is damn adorable.

In the last couple weeks, you have developed a serious interest in all things potty related. You will stand at the bathroom door chanting "Pee, pee, pee, pee." whenever you see Mommy or Daddy in there. Last weekend, we decided it was time to get you a potty of your own. You seem interested, and according to Daddy, have spent a lot of time tossing Elmo into the potty. You aren't quite coordinated enough yet to sit on your own, but you'll get there.

We have made a more concerted effort lately to have dinner together. Typically, you get your dinner when I get home from work, and then Daddy and Mommy eat after you are in bed (yay, 7:30 bedtime!). The last few nights we've all eaten dinner together, and I have to say, its been wonderful. Last night, Daddy was having a rough day, and as we say down, was telling me all about it. As if sensing his sour mood, you proceeded to start an impromptu and unsolicited game of peek-a-boo. This was the first time I've seen you start the game on your own. You covered your eyes with your hands, pulled your hands away, and said, "Boo." The collapsed in a fit of giggles. Needless to say, the rest of dinner was riotous. You have quite the sense of humor, my little friend.

On Monday, Mommy met you and Daddy at the park after work. You spent 45 minutes chasing around the older kids, saying, "Outside, outside, outside, outside." You also managed to pull yourself UP the steps at the playground. Up was really no problem. Its the down we need to work on. I would hold your hand to help you down the steps, at which point you would collapse into a stubborn mound until I let go. And then try to step down yourself. You really don't have the coordination for down just yet, so its something we're going to have to keep working on. All your running at the park from Saturday and Monday has resulted in two skinned knees. I don't even think you realized what had happened - you bounced up like nothing and kept on running. Daddy has said, and I agree wholeheartedly, the skinned knees look great on you. Your intensely curious nature is great in that you love new experiences. But you run headfirst into these new things, with no thought to any consequences. I adore your willingness to explore and experience - but am terrified all at the same time. We are going to have to work on your cause-and-effect understanding pretty quick.

I know I have said this in just about every journal entry, but I am constantly amazed at how much you have learned in such a short amount of time. You devour books, which I love to see. You love to run and play and chase. You are simply fun to be around. And I love you so very much.

Love,
Mommy

Time in a Bottle

2007-05-04T14:34:00.000-05:00

To My Sweet Little Buddy, Ainsley:

Well, after a very long hiatus, Daddy makes his triumphant return to the Ainsley Glorification (Appreciation?) Website. Heck, I may not have even been officially Daddy, the last time I wrote an entry.

Anyway, I wanted to write this entry as a year in review because it is my feeling that I probably have the most unique perspective on your first year in the world. And what is that perspective? That perspective would be that I spend more time with you than anyone else.

Now, let's first address the question that has been dogging me for the last month. And that question is: "My goodness, has it already been a year?" Or one of it's other forms, "Does it really seem like it's been a year?" Sometimes, it's not phrased as a question at all. It is often stated as the declarative: "Man, it sure doesn't seem like it's been a year."

I answer these questions and comments the only way that I know how. I say with all of the honestly and sincerity I can muster......

"Uh, yes. Yes it does."

Ok, I am not going to go all 'Alec Baldwin' on you, but you are quite the challenge, my little friend. Quite the challenge, indeed. When people ask me things like, "Where does the time go?", I'm just like, "Oh, I know where the time goes....." Sometimes, the time goes slowly. Sometimes, it goes downright painfully. Like when you pull out a handful of my chest hair (a problem unique to stay-at-home daddys...or at least I hope so.). Or perhaps when we're having a nice cuddle, and then out of nowhere, Daddy's shoulder seems like it would make a pretty darn good teething ring. Your poop smells really bad. You make messes of my living room and kitchen that I can hardly bear to look at, let alone clean them up. A couple of months ago, you used to fall down and hit your head a lot - that was terrifying. And the crying during teething - I know it hurts, but sometimes I just want to say, "Suck it up, kid." Oh, and I can't leave you in your playpen or crib by yourself and only wearing a diaper because when I come back, not only will you have removed said diaper, there is also a 50/50 shot that you've peed all over the place. At least you didn't pee in the diaper because it is now located in your mouth. The only positive about this is that is makes for quite the photo opportunity.

Speaking of putting things in you mouth. Here is a list of things that do not go there, including, but not limited to: the aformentioned diaper, power cords or cables, random lint, mulch or dirt from the garden, dirt from anywhere (and I mean anywhere), Daddy's shoes, Mommy's shoes (Ainsley's shoes for some reason are ok), the remote, cat food, regurgitated cat food, the cats, cat litter, important papers or bills, unimportant papers, generally anything made of paper, Mommy's glasses, ink pens, DVD's or CD's (cases ok), the tablecloth, the lamp shade that fell down off of the table because you had the tablecloth in your mouth and pulled it onto the floor, and the lamp which is also on the floor because of the tablecloth thing.

It's not so much that the tablecloth alone bothers me. It just starts an uncontrollable chain reaction of events that I would rather not see happen. And judging from all of the crying you would rather not see it happen either.

Mommy says that you just have an active mind. Well, that causes Daddy to have an active mouth. Most of the time, I speak in a ridiculous jibberish that comes out of my mouth in fives and is usually some derivative of 'no'. Like, "ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," -or- "whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." Either that, or I'm ending words in 'ie'. I guess that's because your delicate ears require a cuter version of an already existing word. I truly believe that after spending every day of the last year with you, I am a little less sane than I was a year ago.

Ah, but then there are the good times, and they far outweigh any challenges that you may throw at me. There are too many to list, but I'll give it a try: Like when I sing to you first thing in the morning, and you jump to your feet, smiling and dancing. I've never seen anyone so happy to wake up in the morning. The way that you do that little move with your head when you are eating something that you so obviously enjoy. Or when we lay in the backyard on a blanket, as a family. Seeing you smile for the first time. Discovering that Elmo was your new favorite guy because he makes you click your toungue and dance around every time you see him. Seeing you roll over for the first time. Seeing you pull up for the first time. Watching the excitement in your eyes the first time you saw other kids playing at the park. Watching you open all of those presents on your first Christmas - you were so good for such a little baby. Seeing you ride in the carseat turned forward for the first time - it was like a whole new world of viewing possibilities was opened for you. The fact that when I sing the "Elmo's World" song to you, you humor me by acting as though Elmo himself were singing it. The way that you recognize a toy you haven't seen in a while by exclaiming, "Heyyy". Oh, and there is just so much more. So many special memories that I will forever cherish.

So, what I'm saying is that yes, it has seemed like a year, and a long year at that. If it wasn't such a long year, I don't know how you could have grow from the eight pound pipsqueak that we brought home into the fierce strapping girl that you are now. In some ways, it has been the most challenging year of my life. However, it has also been the greatest and most rewarding year of my life. With all of the things that I have listed above, be it a challenge or a treasure, they make you the most special little girl in the world. I'm so lucky that I get to spend enough time with you to get annoyed by you. Nobody else in your life gets to do that, and I am so priveledged to be the one who does.

As I'm writing this, I feel myself wishing that those of you who are reading this could have seen what I've seen, done what I've done, and felt what I've felt. But, you know what? All of these things are what makes me feel uniquely special after this first year of parenthood. The selfish side of me is happy that these feelings and memories are mine, and mine alone. Sure, I excitedly relay them to anyone who will listen, but I could never do justice to what it was like to actually be there.

Ainsley, over the last year, you and I have affected each other's lives more than anyone else. That bond and familiarity that we have is something that is as important as anything in my life. I would give, and do, anything for you. I will always be there for you. Whether times are good, or whether times are not so good, you will always have my love and support. That is what makes me "The Daddy".

We Are Family

2007-03-07T14:33:00.000-06:00

Dear Peanut,

When I started this journal I planned to write once a month. Here you are, not even a year old yet, and I've already missed all of February. February was great fun, full of two new teeth, a visit from your Grandparents, and even more crawling, cruising, and walking.

You are an impressive eater. You will try whatever we place in front of you, and to date, you have not tried anything you truly didn't like. However, you have an interesting ritual when it comes to new food, or food you haven't had in a while. The very first bite, no matter the taste or consistency, results in a terrible grimace from you. And this happens with anything and everything. The first bite always looks postively horrible. And then the second bite, a bit less so. By the third, you're well on your way to a full tummy. But that first bite seems to get you, each and every time.

You continue to be an impressive sleeper. I put you to bed sometime between 7:00 and 7:45 most nights. We have a song, a bottle, and a snuggle, and while you're still awake, you seem to understand that this is bed time. I put you in your bed, and you roll onto you belly, and shuffle yourself into the corner. You then proceed to flop you face repeatedly into the corner of your crib bumper - face buried in between the cushions - until you get to just the right spot. And when I say "repeatedly," we're talking 5 or 6 times. And there you sleep, on your belly, face covered in the corner, until 8:30 the next morning. I think you might be working to block out any extra light or sound, but I'm really not sure. You seem comfortable in that position, and I am certainly not going to change anything that might jinx your good-sleeping habits.

This past weekend we went to visit Doug, Tori, and Sara in Dallas. Sara is a lab mix - a big, sweet dog who you fell in love with 5 minutes after meeting. You spent most of Saturday and Sunday chasing poor Sara through the house, squealing the entire way. For meals, we had you in a portable high-chair that hooked to the side of the table. You learned (a bit too quickly) that by dropping food onto the floor, Sara would come to you. You would then hold out your little hands over the side of your chair, until Sara came to lick off all the baby goop you had on them. This caused you to laugh hysterically every time it happened. At whick point you would pick up another bit of food to drop off the side. This went on for each meal we ate at the Mariens'. This was quite charming while we were there. It lost a bit of its charm once we got home, and you continued to drop bits of food off your chair. I am not certain if this was your way of trying to get the cats to come to you, or your way of telling us you want a puppy. Either way, you're making a mess. Quit it.

Your sincere affection towards animals and babies is confirmation, in my mind, that you are going to be a wonderful big sister. I cannot wait to see you interact with your little brother or sister - see your reaction to him/her, and see their reaction to you. Of course, this also means that Mommy and Daddy are going to be spending time painting. Again. Perhaps we'll let you pick the colors for your room this time.

Love,
Mommy

All I Want for Christmas

2007-01-04T14:32:00.000-06:00

Dear Peanut,

Well, my dear sweet waterbug, we managed to survive your first Christmas.

I had just enough vacation leftover this year to take off the few extra days between Christmas and New Year's. This long break enabled us to drive home to Mascoutah, instead of braving the treacherous world of modern air travel. We split the drive into two days, thinking that 10 hours straight in the car would be too much for you.

The Friday before Christmas, we left after I got off work. We drove well into the night - you travel long distances better in the dark, we found. We made it all the way to Blytheville, AR that first night, which was well over halfway. We stopped for the night a the only hotel in town with an indoor pool. We planned to tire you out with your first pool visit before finishing the drive on Saturday.

In our almost-9-months together, I have never seen you so absolutely thrilled. There was squealing, kicking, splashing, and even some dunking. We had found you a great baby-float the week before, and it allowed you to be somewhat on your own in the water. You were drunk with the freedom.

You played in the pool for an eternity. Splashing half-heartedly as we dragged you, exhausted, from the water. Back in the hotel room, you promptly went to sleep the minute your head hit the bed. It was fabulous.

Mommy and Daddy are not terribly fond of swimming pools. We were as kids, but just not as adults. Until now. Watching the sheer joy on your face made me fully understand why parents take their kids to the Wiggles, Monster Truck, whatever. I never understood how parents could stomach such atrocities. Seeing you love something like that, made me love it as well.

The week home with the family was wonderful. Mommy and Daddy got a number of free evenings, and you were played with constantly. In fact, you have been quite difficult since we got home. I think that you spent last week being so thoroughly entertained, that the idea of Daddy leaving you to play by yourself so that he can cook dinner is simply infuriating. Why isn't there some Aunt or Grandma to keep you company?

You did so well on Christmas - tearing open presents, eating the wrapping paper, moving from lap to lap. I know we still have a couple years before you will truly "get" Christmas, but we still had so much fun watching you.

In addition to the separation anxiety that has popped up this week, you appear to be getting some more teeth. Two on top, and two more on bottom - although, its hard to tell since you won't really let me get close enough to examine.

While your Aunt Sarah and Uncle Andy are pros at selecting the most-favored-gift for kids, Mommy won the prize this year. Your Little People Farm - complete with animals, farmer, and sounds. I think Great-Grandpa Funk was especially touched to see that you favored the pig most of all.

We took you to Our Lady of the Snows after Christmas to see the lights and festivities. We broke out the front-carrier (something we had not used in ages), and found that next to swimming, being in the front carrier is the most fun ever. We strapped you to Daddy's belly and explored the Christmas tree display and children's area. Poor Daddy was kicked incessantly during the outing - you were just so excited to be vertical and at eye-level with others.

Things I have learned from you this week:

Cottage cheese? Yes, please.
Crawling isn't crawling unless there are people and/or things to crawl OVER.
Cookie Monster uses exceptionally poor grammar (not learned from you, but still.).
The song that cheers you up the most? "We're Not Going to Take It" by Twisted Sister. That's my girl.

So thus far you have made swimming better, Christmas better, and petting zoos better. That's not a bad way to start the year, I'd say.

You have been a little off this week, with a touch of a cold. This has made your particularly snuggly, which I am absolutely loving. I am sad that you are feeling bad, but I love that you will stop for minutes on end to snuggle with me. So, yay mild head colds!

Love,
Mommy

The Lady in My Life

2006-11-17T14:30:00.000-06:00

Dear Peanut,

This week you turned seven months old. I am continually amazed at how fast you are growing, how much you are learning, and how wonderfully your personality is developing.

Talking has become your new favorite passtime. You have "Dada" (your first word) and "Mama" down like a pro - although you don't associate a meaning with either word. You can also say "Baba," and we are working on "Papa." "Dada" seemed to come easily to you - one minute you were just making sounds, and the next it was all "Da da da da da." "Mama" took a lot more work on your part, by which I am still touched. You mouthed an M for a good week - looking like a little fish, opening and closing your mouth, getting it just right before you applied any sound. You managed to say it fully and confidently the same night Mommy went to the hospital to have her appendix removed.

After spending more than 24 hours away from you, you and Daddy got to my room at the hospital and I was greeted with your outstretched arms and a loud chorus of "Ma ma ma ma ma." It was awesome.

Your sense of humor is developing quickly with your speech. As you would expect, I love hearing you say "Mama." So whenever I get home from work I will sit you in front of me and say, "Mama. Mama. Mama." You will grin up at me, look away, and invariably say "Dada." And giggle. As if Ainsley just told the Funniest. Joke. Ever. There must be a genetic marker for sarcasm.

Things I've learned from you this month:

P, X, and Z - the funniest letters in all the alphabet.
Yogurt and mashed banana - best. breakfast. ever.
The Tivo screen and "bloop" sounds are the best thing on TV. Bar none.
Socks taste good. Dirty, clean, Daddy's, Mommy's, Ainsley's - whatever.
TV remotes - World's Best Teething Toy.

Love,
Mommy

Deep In the Heart of Texas

2006-10-21T14:29:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

Last weekend was our first family vacation. Daddy surprised us with a trip to Austin, TX to celebrate our anniversary. We have been home to Mascoutah a few times with you now, but this was our first real vacation with you. And, our first vacation at all in close to two years. The picture above is of you in the rotunda of the impressive Texas Capitol building. Austin is a great city, if only it were closer to St. Louis!

You are such a traveling champ. You handled car rides, airports, flights, security checkpoints - everything - with an ease that still amazes me. I think you handled all the "traveling" bit better than Daddy or I did. You seemed comfortable in two different cribs at two different hotels. You ate a healthy breakfast of mashed bananas out in public with no problem. Let's just say that the weekend made me want to take even more vacations like that with you and Daddy.

You are thisclose to crawling right now. You can lift your fanny up into the air on your knees, and you can lift your head up into the air on your arms. You just can't seem to get the idea that you can do both at the same time. You are, however, a champion scooter. You scoot every which way, and even seem to push toys away from you just so you can scoot towards them some more.

Other than bananas, your diet is quickly expanding. Frozen cubes of sweet potatoes, avocado, carrots, pears, peaches, plums, and green beans fill a drawer in our freezer. Tonight for dinner you had yogurt for the first time - mixed with some fresh peaches. It was like a party arrived in your mouth - you devoured the yogurt. And then nursed from both boobs. And then downed a bottle. You are one hungry little baby. We had been sticking to just one "real" meal a day, but I think we're going to start moving you up to three. You are a growing girl, after all.

Today was the first game of the World Series. You were dressed in your Cardinal outfit all day (looking very much like a boy). You watced the first few innings, then ate (more, again), and went to bed. When you wake up in the morning Daddy and I will have to tell you all about the game.

Today we also had two large, dead trees taken down from our front yard. They guys started last night, and you and I sat on the front step watching. You seemed fascinated by the work - the man climbing high up into the tree, using his chainsaw to cut down the branches, the cut branches falling to the ground with a tremendous crash. We watched as they cut through the base of the first tree - and shouted (well, that was me) "Timber!" as it went down. The force of the crash shook the house, and you just kept on watching. Daddy even came out to check on you, thinking you would have gotten too startled by the fall. But you were cool as a cucumber.

You are now 6 months old. I continue to find myself surprised at how much I love you. I thought that by 6 months, I would be used to the feeling. But the depth of it still takes my breath away. I don't know that I could survive losing you, and yet my thoughts often wander to all the million ways you could get hurt during the day. At times, I'm almost consumed by the idea that something terrible is going to happen, that will cause you to leave me. Is it going to be like this all the time? Or will I become more confident that you're going to be alright? When we first brought you home, I was consumed with thoughts that I would hurt you in some way. That's been replaced by the thought that there is some accident out there, just waiting to happen.

I am not prone to worry - its not really in my nature, and Daddy typically worries enough for the both of us. But since you were born, I worry. This is accompanied by the intense feeling that its my job to protect you. And its exhausting. I love every single moment, but it is exhausting.

You are the very best thing that's ever happened to Daddy and me. Your little giggle - that happens more and more often these days - is a constant reminder of how good we have it. I love you so very much, Ainsley.

Love,
Mommy

Eat It

2006-09-11T14:28:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

After a week of seemingly ravenous hunger on your part - no matter how often you were fed - Daddy and I decided it was time for you to try solid food. We were worried that you were still a bit too young, and that you wouldn't be ready. We could not have been more wrong.

Your first meal was sweet potato. Daddy and I feel strongly about you having good food, and we are going to make as much of your food as we can. On Saturday morning, we started the weekend with a girl's day out. We visited Centenary College for their Book Bazaar, and then ran some errands. You helped me pick out a sweet potato from Kroger's at our last stop for the morning.

When we got home, we microwaved the potato, and then blended it up in Daddy's mini-blender with a bit of water. And then, to be extra sure that everything was smooth, I pressed the blended sweet potato through sieve. As little as you eat, that one sweet potato should last for about 10 meals.

Finally, I thinned the puree with a little breastmilk, and we were ready. We put you in your Mizzou bib (fitting since Daddy paused the first Mizzou game of the year to video tape your lunch), and set you up in your high chair.

Not only did you grasp the concept of eating immediately, you were so enthused that you proceded to grab my hand as soon as the spoon got near, and help guide me to your mouth. It was hilarious. You seemed so excited, and were in an excellent mood for the rest of the afternoon.

While I loved watching you eat you first bit of big-girl food, I have to admit, I was a little bummed over the weekend. I am so proud of you - how much you have grown, how much you have learned. But the idea that you can now get your sustenance from someone else other than me is a little bit upsetting. In some ways, it almost feels like I have failed you in some way - that my milk can no longer give you everything you need.

Then I decided I was being silly - first of all, you're only going to have one big-girl meal a day for a while yet. And secondly, its my job to make you independent. Not that I planned on nursing you until you were five or anything. But I guess since Daddy and I are working so hard to help you become a confident, independent woman - I should probably get used to the idea that as each day goes by you will need me less and less.

I just didn't expect to notice it so soon. You are not quite 5 months old, and I am already faced with the idea that you won't be my little girl forever. And in so many ways, that is just devastating. How is it possible to feel both proud and sad all at the same time?

Love,
Mommy

Somebody's Baby

2006-08-15T14:26:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

Today you are four months old. F-O-U-R. One, two, three, FOUR. It seems as though the time has flown by so quickly. Too quickly.

There is something I've been thinking about lately, and I have been torn as to whether or not I should write it all out. But, I promised you way back when that I was going to give you an honest view into pregnancy and motherhood. Absolutely no sugar coating. Sugar will rot your teeth, anyway.

When you were first born, my immediately feelings centered on loss. Grief, almost. I was so devastated to have you away from me, outside of me, that I could hardly think. The first few hours after your birth were easily the hardest. Add to that your being stuck in observation in the nursery for 8+ hours, and I was a bit of a wreck.

My pregnancy was really very easy (thank you for that, by the way). I was feeling so good, I spent a lot of time imagining what it would be like to meet face-to-face for the first time. I had a vision in my head of that one perfect moment. You are in my arms. Our eyes meet. You immediately recognize that I am your Mommy. I feel an instant bond with you - that overwhelming moment of love and affection. I even pictured the moment with some etheral light filtering in through the window. Daddy looking on at his new family.

So it was probably my fault for building it all up, but it just didn't go like that. When they finally brought you to me, I was overwhelmed. Exhausted. Anxious. Feeling this weight of responsibility, all packaged neatly into a 8 lbs. bundle. I did cry, don't get me wrong. And I certainly loved you from the minute you were conceived. But my overwhelming emotion when I first got to hold you? Fear. Is this hospital insane that they are going to let me and Daddy take this baby home? Don't they realize we aren't ready? I'm certain at this point that I am going to break you.

As the days passed, and as we got settled at home, the fear subsided somewhat. But still, that moment was missing. I was wracked with guilt by it. I didn't even talk to Daddy about it at the time. What sort of mother was I? I couldn't seem to get to that place.

After doing much panicked research online, I did find that it is normal for us to take a few weeks to warm up to each other. Honestly, I don't think you were so sure, either. I was there to provide a warm boob, and that's it.

But now. Now I can't imagine being back at that point in our relationship. You have changed me in a very fundamental way, and I will never be the same. It took some time at first, but the change is there. And irreversable.

I put you to bed each night. Daddy gets to spend all day with you, so he lets this be our time alone. You nurse, and come very close to sleep. I put you up on my shoulder, and you sigh and lean into my neck. This is the moment. Just a few minutes where it is just the two of us, and I am overcome. Painfully, excrutiatingly overcome.

The thing is, before, when I pictured the moment, I pictured ONE moment. That the only time I would feel that connection to you would be that first time, and that all other times would somehow dull in comparison. But its not like that at all. Each and every time you get me. Every single day.

I just didn't know it was going to be like this.

Love,
Mommy

Roll With the Changes

2006-08-01T14:25:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

Today marked a banner day in your development. Today you rolled over, all by yourself, for the first time. Of course, NO ONE (except Kitten) was there to witness this momentous event.

Daddy put you on your back under your play gym in the Living Room this morning. He stepped into the other room for a moment, and when he came back you were on your belly. Which is really sort of funny, since you don't like being on your belly all that much. Daddy said Kitten didn't seem all that impressed, but Daddy and I are so proud of you!

Although, we should keep in mind that this is really the first step towards mobility - something we are already dreading.

This past weekend you had a visit from your Grandpa and Grandma Jeffries. What a little angel you were all weekend! They timed their visit just right - it seems that almost overnight you have turned into quite a Chatty Cathy. Your voice now fills the house (almost constantly) with raspberries, coos, and squeals. Every time I call home from work I can hear you in the background, talking loudly. I think you have found that you like the sound of your own voice.

I was hoping to hold off the mobility thing just a bit yet, but it looks like you are anxious to get it going. I have the sneaking suspicion that you are going to be one of those children who is on the go all the time - unwilling to stay put in a stroller, or car seat, or lap. Time will tell. . .

I love you so much, sweetheart.

Love,
Mommy

Sweet Child O' Mine

2006-07-21T14:23:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

Every Wednesday we take you to the new tennis courts. Daddy and I take turns sitting with you, and hitting on the ball machine. You sit in your stroller (like a big girl), and watch intently. You can't seem to follow the ball just yet, but you watch Daddy and I very carefully as we hit. Tennis is something we very much want to do as a family, and as you get older we'll have you out on the courts with us.

This past week, there were some kids on "our" court before we started. They left the place a mess - tennis balls strewn about, water cups on the ground, etc. One of the kids appeared to belong to the woman working the desk in the office. When we wrapped up for the night, Daddy and I picked up the court before we left - there was a storm rolling in, and all those tennis balls needed to be out of the weather. I left the courts horribly bothered by the woman and her kid - no one else is going to ever pick up a mess you have made.

This event got me to thinking. You are a perfect little girl. Smart, beautiful, energetic, healthy, and such a good sleeper. Seriously, you're perfect. I mean, I know in my head that no one is perfect - I get that. But you are as close to perfection as anything I've ever seen. And this worries me. What if I become one of those parents who believes their child is perfect, even when faced with evidence of the opposite? That my child must always be right, no matter the circumstance? That my perfect little angel would never leave a tennis court in a mess - that mess must have been made by someone else. What if I raise this horrible little monster because I can't see that she's become a brat?

On the other hand, as sure as I am of your perfection now, how am I going to react when faced with a situation where you aren't perfect? Will it be devastating? Will it be my fault? Will I recover after I realize that you are, in fact, only human? I assume this will be similar to the point in young adulthood when you realize your parents are just people - nothing more, nothing less. A hard lesson to learn in adolescence, but it is harder when faced with that reality as an adult?

On the other hand, what if you truly are perfect right now? One of those rare individuals who combines the best of all of us - smart, athletic, beautiful, compassionate, honest, loyal, etc. What if you came out this way (what if we ALL came out this way?) and Daddy and I are just going to screw that up? I look into your little smooshy face and see all the possibilities out there - just waiting for you to grow up and take advantage. What if I accidentally stifle your artistic skills? What if I inadvertently inhibit your competitiveness? I suppose that, at this point in your life, there are an infinite number of "what ifs."

But you know? For now, I think I'm just going to wallow in your perfection, sweetheart. Get lost in those gigantic blue eyes, and not think about tomorrow - let alone 18 years from now.

Love,
Mommy

Walking on Sunshine

2006-07-13T14:21:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

While driving to work Monday morning I was struck by what an amazing weekend we had. You are truly a joy to be with, and are an astonishingly good baby. Smiles, coos, almost-laughs - you ran the gamut of good feelings this past weekend. And, for the most part, it has carried over into the week.

Apparently, we are about to enter the "enchanting" time of babyhood with you - you are getting to be more and more interactive, and yet you still aren't mobile. So we can sit and play for a long time, but Daddy and I don't have to chase you around the house just yet. Part of me thinks that this is a stage we want to last as long as humanly possible.

Today is Daddy's birthday. You and Daddy met me for lunch today, and my goodness were you in a good mood. You had a good night's sleep (11 hours, and only getting up once to eat). By the time we met for lunch, you still hadn't eaten yet - but you were still all smiles. It was such a great break in my day!

You are continuously getting stronger. You hold you head up now like its nothing, and are thisclose to sitting up by yourself. You want to see anything and everything, and if I've got you up on my shoulder you're straining as hard as you can to get higher, to see more. I have never seen a baby (especially one your age) take such an interest in the world around her. The toys attached to your stroller hold no interest - but watching all the people as we go by certainly does.

I am certain that all the goodness lately is a sign that you are going to be a difficult teenager. But, we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Until then, I am going to enjoy every waking minute I get with your little smooshy face.

Love,
Mommy

Homeward Bound

2006-07-07T14:20:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

This past weekend, over the July 4th holiday, we took you home to Mascoutah for the first time. Honestly, I was dreading the trip. Hauling you through DFW, organizing time for both sides of the family, St. Louis in July - well, let's just say that it was a recipe for one long, hot, stressful weekend.

You travel beautifully. I still do not know what Daddy and I did to deserve such a peaceful baby, but I'm glad we did it. You slept through both legs of the trip, going home AND coming back. I tried to feed you (like was recommended) as we pulled away from the gate in Dallas. I read somewhere that the swallowing and sucking can help with the air pressure. You, the champion eater that you are, nursed so quickly you were done and ready for a nap by the time the plane taxied on the runway. You then proceeded to sleep on my lap for the entire flight. You have really gotten the whole nursing thing down pat - I am up for your one night feeding (with diaper change) and back to bed in about 20 minutes now. Daddy calls you a Nursing Barracuda.

Grandma and Grandpa Jeffries picked us up from the airport in St. Louis. They were SO happy to see you, and you were even ready with a smile - what a charmer you are growing into. I am anxious to see how you remember your grandparents from visit to visit. I only saw my grandparents once or twice a year growing up, and I don't remember a time when I forgot them. But I'm sure I must have.

It is interesting, watching you with my parents. I know that Grandma Jeffries can barely contain her excitement with you, and watching Grandpa Jeffries make googlie eyes at you - well, let's just say I never took him for the googlie eyes type. I guess I never really expected my baby to cause such a stir. Even knowing full well that you're the first grandchild - I never expected you to be such a big deal. And I haven't even begun to tell you about your Aunts and Uncle. They are simply CRAZY about you. You are going to have so much love in your life, it will never run out. And I can't tell you how happy that makes me.

Your Grandma and Grandpa Hanes are just as excited about you. This was you first time meeting your Grandpa Hanes, and he was quite taken with you. I don't think that it dawned on him before that you were HIS grandchild. That 1/4 of his genetics contributed to you. But the minute he saw you, he was smitten. And you seemed very taken with him as well. I know your Daddy was very happy to see that. Of all your relatives, I expected you to recognize your Grandma Hanes - she has spent the most time with you, other than Mommy and Daddy. I don't know if you recognized her, but you seemed to fall into a comfort level with her right away - as you did with all your Grandparents. I hope its always this easy.

Just before we left for Mascoutah, we visited your doctor for your first round of immunizations. You handled the shots like a champ - I think I cried more than you did. And while we expected a fever or crankiness (or both), we got neither. You went about the rest of your day as though nothing had happened. Amazing.

You are now up to 12.5 lbs of squirmy adorableness. Still incredibly tall for your age - Daddy is already comparing you to 6' 3" Sharipova. And I am certain that you will tower over me by the time you're twelve. We shall see. You are terribly strong for your age as well - able to stand up almost unassisted now. Those little thighs that kicked my so relentlessly in-utero are all muscle. Daddy and I are dreading the day you become mobile - as interested as you are in your surroundings, you are going to be quite a handful once you can start exploring by yourself.

Things I've learned about you this month:

You are going to be quite the chatterbox, as soon as you figure out that whole talking thing.
Traveling makes you sleepy, and not nearly as cranky as I expected.
If you get regular naps, you stay in a good mood the entire day.
Books are already a passion of yours.
You like to wake up in the morning to Daddy's Morning Song, even if Mommy is singing it.
You are already Daddy's Little Girl.
You are an intensely happy baby - quick to smile at anyone who talks to you.

You are fast approaching 3 months already, which is impossible to believe. I love you more each day, which is almost unbearable at times. You have made the whole world a new place for me - watching you experience for the first time things that I would normally never give a second thought. It is astonishing how much you learn day to day, and that you wake up each morning with a smile - wanting to learn more. I only hope Daddy and I can keep up.

Love,
Mommy

Working for the Weekend

2006-06-02T14:17:00.000-05:00

Dear Peanut,

The last month has just flown by. It seems like only yesterday that we were taking you for your one-month check up. And now we're nearing your two-month. The time is flying by far too quickly. And while I can't wait to get to each and every new stage with you, I wish desperately that they would last a big longer.

You are now up over 10 lbs of cuteness. And we found that you grew a whole 2.5 inches your first month on the outside. TWO AND ONE HALF. You realize that if you keep growing like this, you'll be taller than me by your 5th birthday? I am certain that you are going to hit the 6 foot mark by the time all is said and done. Which, incidentally, will give you a wicked serve one day.

You are already giving us every indication that you are going to be quite a handful once you are mobile. Your arms and legs seem to be in constant motion, and you are already scooting pretty well. In the evenings, when you fall asleep on Daddy's chest, you scoot yourself off his chest into the crook of his arm. Your butt ends up about 2 inches higher than your head. Do you like the blood rushing to your head? Does it remind you of your last few weeks in the womb? It seems you love to sleep with your head down below everything else.

One of the big changes you have brought to the house has been a change in my work schedule. I cannot wait to get home to you each night. The weekends seem too few and far between, and Friday night seems to take forever to get here. Don't get me wrong - I still love working, and love what I do. But my time with you is the very best thing I've got going. And time away from you and Daddy, in many ways, seems like such a waste. I suppose I should start playing the lottery every week - working my way to independent wealth...

When you nurse in the evenings, we read together. Right now, we are in the middle of "The Hobbit." While I don't think you're following the story all that well, you do seem to enjoy listening to my voice. And, have often smiled up at me while I'm reading. So far, we have learned all about hobbits, dwarves, wizards, goblins, trolls, and Gollum. I figure its best to start you out early on all this stuff... Daddy thinks its best to start you out early on Cardinal's baseball and the French Open.

Things I've learned about you this month:

You don't cry so much as yell when you're hungry. Or lonely. Or bored. Little bursts of "Hey!"
You LOVE to be naked.
You are already a Neil Diamond fan - bopping your legs to "Cherry" like it was the best song EVER.
Tummy time makes you incredibly hungry and tired.
You like to stand on my lap, lean over my shoulder, and look out the window onto the front yard whenever you get the chance.
You grunt loud enough in your sleep to wake me up, but you sleep through it like its nothing.
You often find me hilariously funny. I'm still not quite sure why.
You like to sleep upside down (or as close to upside down as you can get).

Well, sweetheart, you are all the way up to 7 weeks. 7 whole weeks on the outside, and you have changed a little bit each day. You are the most alert and active 7 week old I have ever seen - constantly looking around, taking in your surroundings, studying everything. There seems to be no end to your curiosity, and your energy. I love that about you. And I love you so much it breaks my heart.

Love,
Mommy

Almost a Month

2006-05-10T14:14:00.000-05:00

Ainsley Allen Hanes
April 15, 2006
8:01AM
8 lbs. 3 oz.

You are already almost a month old, peanut. The time has flown by so quickly for me, I wonder how you feel about it.

This month started out rough. It took me longer to bounce back from the c-section than I had anticipated, and for the first few days I felt like I wasn't taking very good care of you. Luckily, Daddy was there to pick up the slack. I was really a bit of a mess. I do not cry often, but in the first few days after your birth, I found myself crying more than once. These last 5 months or so, I really got used to feeling you moving around in there all the time. Then, all of a sudden, you weren't there anymore. You weren't with me all the time. I was simply devastated by that loss - I felt so incredibly lonely. I was thrilled that I was finally able to share you with Daddy, but I missed you horribly.

The idea of you is still a bit overwhelming for me - I don't think its sunk in yet that I am a Mommy. All I know is that I worry about you all the time. Constantly. I have gotten over the idea that I need to check on you in your crib if I can't hear you, but I still worry.

This month you have astounded Daddy and me with your strength. You have been able to hold your head up since day one, which is amazing. And your little legs are already so strong - we barely have to balance you, and you're up on your feet.

You have been a wonderful baby so far. You only cry when you're hungry, and at night you are on a solid 4-hour schedule - which means Mommy only has to get up once to feed you.

Feeding times are my favorite time with you. It is such an intimate moment - you nursing, pressed up against my stomach. You always have your eyes open, looking every which way, taking it all in. Sometimes, Daddy sits with us, but most times its just you and me. And I LOVE IT.

This week I went back to work. It was so incredibly hard to leave you on Monday morning. I have a photo of you on my desk, but I miss your smell during the day. And your sound. And the feel of your soft little hands gripping my finger. Daddy absolutely loves being home with you, which makes it a bit easier on me.

This month you have also met your Grandma Jeffries, Grandpa Jeffries, Aunt Sarah, Aunt Beth, and Grandma Hanes. Its been so much fun to watch everyone light up when they see you. Mommy and Daddy are trying to take as many photos as we can, so that we can send them to all the family as often as possible.

Things I've learned about you this month:

You grin in your sleep after you've been fed.
You cry when we first get you in the bath, but then you love being in there.
You get lonely in the mornings if Mommy and Daddy try to sleep too late.
You are a heavy sleeper, just like Mommy.
You fall asleep easily in the car, or in your stroller.
When you're awake, you like to be in a sitting position as much as possible.
You are fascinated by the baby in your crib mirror. I am certain you are jealous of how cute she is.

Well, peanut, that was 1 month. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as Daddy and I have. I can't wait to get home each day and snuggle you.

Love,
Mommy

Birth Story - Ainsley

2006-04-15T14:13:00.000-05:00

We met with Captain Gyno on Thursday, April 13th. After a quick exam, the good captain told us that we had still made absolutely no progress. He also told us that my pelvic bone was in the way, and that there was just no way a 9 lbs (or 7 lbs, for that matter!) baby was going to fit through the space I had available. I think this is something called CPD - baby's head is too big for Mommy's pelvis. The captain told us he wanted us in for a c-section as soon as possible. However, with it being Easter weekend, it was going to be tough gathering together the "A-Team" (as he called it) sooner than Monday. So we got scheduled for Monday morning, April 17th, at 10AM.

I was foolish enough to make dinner reservations for Saturday night - last weekend without child and all. . .

Labor started about lunch time on Good Friday, April 14th. Things started out slow enough, but the timing remained completely sporadic. We never really got into any pattern.

We made a trip to Walmart for some general errands, and things started to get worse - the contractions were causing me to stop in my tracks. Still, nothing I couldn't handle. And still, not pattern of any sort.

The contractions started to get closer together as the evening progressed. The lovely girls from work brought us dinner, and we ate - this is apparently not what you're supposed to do when you're in labor. I guess I forgot that rule.

We started timing the contractions late that evening, and while they were still coming sporadically, they were getting closer together. We left for the hospital, calmly, at about 10:30PM.

The movement of the car relaxed me, and the contractions started to get further apart, again. We were both worried we were heading all the way to the hospital for no reason.

We got to the hospital at about 11PM. I think we were the only people in the labor and delivery unit - the place seemed deserted. We were admitted, and got settled into our room. The nurse came in and asked, "What makes you think you're in labor?" I got the impression she just didn't believe me. Although, perhaps most of the women she sees are groaning and moaning.

I got hooked up to all the monitors, and the nurse came in to check on us. We were already almost to 3 cm dialated. She called the good captain, and he didn't believe her! He again seemed concerned about performing a c-section without his "A-Team" and told us he wanted us to wait through the night.

And then I got a dose of Demerol. Sweet, sweet, Demerol.

The contractions weren't bad, but the captain wanted to make sure we were actually in active labor before proceeding (I also think he wanted us comfortable for the overnight wait). I was able to watch the contractions on the screen - I could still feel them, but there was just no pain. And no coherence, either. I was talking some serious jibberish. The odd part, was that I knew as I was saying things that they were making no sense. I just said them, anyway.

We slept for a while. The c-section was scheduled for 7:30 the next morning, so we had plenty of time to rest up.

The captain got to our room right at 7:30. We waited for his partner (Corporal Gyno?) until 7:45. Jason was given scrubs, a hat, and mask to put on. I was rolled into the operating room, which was FREEZING. The nice lady doctor administered my spinal - and what a weird feeling THAT is. It took no time to take effect, and while I was completely awake, I couldn't feel a thing from the waist down.

Jason came in then, and things got started. I could feel a lot of pulling and tugging, and could certainly hear what was going on. It was surreal - there were 3 doctors, and at least that many nurses in the room - all having ordinary conversations while I'm being cut open. I think they talked about hunting or some such nonsense.

Lots more tugging and pulling. A weird suction sound. And then one big pull, and I felt this odd emptiness. I could breath easier, and I felt a bit hollow. Then I heard her.

The doctors had Jason stand up and take pictures - I was surprised, I was sure they would want to keep him back behind the curtain. I was certain he'd WANT to stay back behind the curtain. But he didn't.

The first words from the Captain were, "Look at the thighs on that baby." She was very well built - sturdy and strong right from the start.

They took her over to the warmer to get cleaned up. She had quite a bit of fluid in her lungs, and was struggling against the suction tube. Jason said after that she was even able to grab the tube, and pull it out of her mouth. I could only see bits from where I was - but I could certainly hear her crying.

Next came the weigh-in. 8 lbs. 3 oz. Smaller than the ultrasound had shown - but still a big baby.

Jason stayed with her the entire time she was with the nurses. I was still being tugged on.

They finally got her wrapped up, and Jason carried her over to me. She was just beautiful. It was a face that was so familiar, and so new all at the same time. It was in that moment - the three of us together for the first time, that I realized that we were a family.

Jason took her then out to the nursery. She was still having some trouble breathing, and needed to be looked after under the baby warmer. They finished cleaning me up, and I was rolled into recovery, where I slept such a deep sleep. Jason came by to check on me, and I reminded him of all the people he needed to call.

After a couple hours in recovery, we were moved down to the postnatal unit. We were right across the hall from the nursery, but I was still unable to see her. She was still under observation, and I was in no condition to get up and go to her. Jason was given the run of the nursery, and took a ton of pictures. He came back to check on me repeatedly, and to show me all the photos of our little girl.

Finally, at 5PM that evening they brought her to me. The most precious baby you will ever lay eyes on - there in my arms. Finally.

She took to nursing right away, and we were able to cuddle for a long time.

Week 39

2006-04-12T14:04:00.000-05:00

Dear Little Girl,

Well, you managed to turn the right way at the last minute. There was a gigantic flip ON THE WAY TO THE DOCTOR two weeks ago, and sure enough, your little fanny was facing up. You are still growing like crazy in there - Daddy and I were able to count 5 little fingers on one hand, and 5 little toes on one foot. We assume that you have a matching pair to both. The surprising news at the ultrasound was that they estimated your weight at 7 lbs. 11 oz. That's amazingly close to 8 (EIGHT) lbs., with another 2 weeks to go. If you end up being a 10 lb. baby, I don't think I will ever let Daddy forget it.

Shortly after that visit with the doctor, the girls at work threw us an amazing baby shower. We hauled home 480 diapers, and something around 5000 wipes. It was really a great shower - good food, good people, and no silly games.

We went to see the good Captain again this past Monday (April 10). And while you are still facing the right direction, and dropping down a smidge, we really haven't made any progress in any other area. It seems like you are perfectly content to stay in there. The Captain seems a bit concerned about how big you are getting. Apparently, Mommy's wide hips won't necessarily translate into a wide birth canal. Doesn't that just figure? Anyway, the minute we start to show any progress with you, we'll be in the hospital. And Captain Gyno told us that he won't let us go past your due date - which means no matter what, you'll be here a week from today.

I am surprisingly calm about the whole thing right now. I am sure that when its time to go, I'll be a nervous wreck. But for now, I'm pretty relaxed and groovey. I am truly ready for you to be here already - seems like each day that goes by means one more joint or muscle sore and achy. Plus, your room at home seems awfully quiet right now. Too quiet. And the cats are entirely too comfortable in the rockers. I think its time we shake things up a bit in there.

One more note about these last few weeks. . . Your Daddy is perhaps the very best caregiver Mommy could ever imagine. When I get home from work, I sit with my feet up. Daddy cooks dinner, brings me cold things to drink, and generally takes care of all my little needs (even helps me up off the sofa for the millionth bathroom run of the day). Daddy lets me take up 80% of the bed at night so that I can be comfortable, and he's gotten terribly good at rubbing those sore muscles. I have known for a very long time how wonderful your Daddy is, but the last few weeks have been especially wonderful. I don't think you or I would have made it this far without him.

So, we'll see you tomorrow - one more ultrasound to see how much bigger you've gotten. Maybe its time you take a break from all this growing? Just relax and rest up for that whole delivery thing???

Love,
Mommy

Week 34

2006-03-13T14:03:00.000-06:00

Dear Little Girl,

As the time of your arrival draws near, you are making it very clear that you have an intense stubborn streak. We visited the doctor last week, and while you (and I) are still the picture of health, you are simply refusing to settle down and lay the right way.

It seems as though you prefer any position, except the one you're supposed to be in at this point. You are large enough now, that I can feel the location of your head from the outside. I don't think you like that very much - you kick particularly hard in the other direction when I do touch your head.

Today at lunch, for example, your head was up at my rib cage. I can't imagine that that is a very comfortable spot for you - it certainly isn't for me.

The kicking and turning over is getting to be a bit ridiculous. The stronger you get in there, the worse it is for me on the outside. In fact, last night while I was sleeping (on my left side, with my belly down against the bed), Daddy was able to feel you kicking at the mattress WAY on the other side of the bed. Daddy seemed surprised that I was able to sleep through all that, but I think I am just used to all the jostling.

Your positioning and kicking have given me the idea that you dislike the idea of a "natural" birth. No one is going to squeeze YOU through that narrow birth canal! You are going to KICK yourself free any day now, nature be damned.

The good news with this, is that I can tell how strong and healthy you have grown.

We go back into the doctor on the 30th for an ultrasound. That will be week 37, and if you haven't turned the right way by then, we will be seriously talking about scheduling a c-section.

I don't have my heart set on a "natural" birth. Whatever is best for you and me - that's what I want. However, from what the nurse told us during our tour at the hospital, we would get to see you and hold you and be with you much longer, and much more quickly after birth if you decide to work your way out "naturally."

We started the genetic blaming this weekend at home. Your intense acrobatics and stubborn refusal to drop into the right position are certainly all your father's fault. Grandma Hanes described Daddy as a very active baby - who also happened to be breech. You tend to be more sideways than breech, but I am certain that's a trait you get from him.

Regardless of how you get out of there, I am really looking forward to meeting you. I have loved carrying you, gestating you, and hauling your butt around for these past months - but I think its time you get out into the real world. There are so many things to show you, and to teach you. Besides, its almost time for baseball season - and you really can't enjoy it nearly as much from where you are now. . .

Love,
Mommy

Week 33

2006-03-02T14:01:00.000-06:00

Sweet Ainsley:

WARNING: IF SATIRICAL FETAL COMMENTARY OFFENDS YOU, READ NO FURTHER!!!
THIS MEANS YOU....YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.
YOU'RE GOING TO KEEP GOING AREN'T YOU??
DISCUSSION OF FETUSES WITH ROBUST HEATH VS. THOSE WITH PALTRY HEALTH FOLLOWS.
WELL, DON'T SAY THAT I DIDN'T WARN YOU.
WARNING OVER!!

Well, your daddy is finally taking another crack at the jounal thing. Many moons have passed since my last entry. I guess that I really just don't have much to say to you right now. That's probably because you may very well be the most boring fetus of all time. Now, don't let Mommy know that I told you that. She thinks that you are very exciting....with the incessant kicking and whatnot. She says that if she can get five minutes of calm out of you, she treasures it.

But let's get back to the 'boring' thing. Please, do not be offended. Boring is good. Boring is great in fact. That means that we do not have any problems.....that you do not have any problems. And for that, I am most grateful.

But, don't you remember the old days, like I don't know, 24 weeks ago? When going to the doctor got us all fired up. We were getting pictures of you. We were learning so much about you. Heck, you even had a different name back then, and a tail. Remember, little Embreau...I mean, Ainsley.

Now, you're all grown up. You have fingers, toes, and you are sans tail. Your heartbeat has been in the low 140's since the first trimester, robust health.....yada yada yada. And now, Captain Gyno tells us, no more pictures of you because, "We have to have a reason to." His words, not mine. So, even the doctor thinks you're boring now. No more pictures is not going to make the Grandmas happy....or will it??

Maybe I'm thinking about this all wrong. Pictures could mean something's wrong. We don't want that, and niether do the Grandmas. So, really...no more pictures does indeed mean happier Grandmas. Plus, we will more than make up for the lack of a third trimester ultrasound once you ultimately emerge from you warm, dark, and gooey place. Lot's of picture will be taken then.

So, boring is good, very good indeed. Sure, we don't get to be special and feel self important like the parents whose babies are having some issues with paltry health. Well, they can have their "exciting" prenatal appointments, more pictures, and paltry health. I'll take my "boring" prenatal visit, no pictures, and robust health, thank you very much!!

Because it's your robust health that truly makes you special, Ainsley. So, yeah....I'm gonna take my "boring" baby, and I'm gonna love it.

Love,
Daddy

Week 29

2006-02-06T14:01:00.000-06:00

My dear little girl,

11 weeks to go, and counting! It is hard to believe you are going to be here so soon. It seems like we still have so much yet to do. . .

According to WebMD, you will be ready to go as early as March 29, which is Grandma Jeffries' birthday. And while I'm sure she would be thrilled with you as a birthday surprise, we really don't need any more March birthdays in the family. In fact, I think you may end up being the first April baby in the family.

We have made some progress on getting things ready out here for you. The nusery is really coming along nicely. Grandma and Grandpa Jeffries were down here this past weekend, and put your crib together. I am still trying to get my mind around the idea that the next time I see MY mommy, I'll be YOUR mommy. In so many ways, all your grandparents seem far too young to be grandparents. Even though I know most of their friends already are, they still seem so young. But then, part of me thinks Daddy and myself are too young for you just yet as well. Of course, we'll both be turning 30 this year, so we aren't all THAT young.

The weekend before last, Daddy and I took a tour of the Labor and Delivery floor of the hospital. We were very pleased with the setup - everything seemed so nice and new. Even though Pierremont is a bit further for us, I am glad we will be having you there. I think we've got all the insurance in order - all that's really left on THAT front is to find you a pediatrician.

The weekend after next will be a class on Childbirth Preparation. Doesn't THAT sound like a good time? While Daddy can't wait for you to get here, I think he would have us skip the whole "delivery" part if we could. Not that I blame him - I'd skip the whole thing too, if that were the choice.

You are still spending most of your time on your side, which has me a little concerned. There are certainly times when you are facing the right direction, and I get some solid kicks in the ribs. However, most of the time you feel like you're leaning left or right, kicking my sides. You are now so strong, you kick and make my entire torso shift, which can be quite amusing. When this happens in meetings at work, I am always concerned everyone is looking at the amazing bouncing belly. Anyway, the good Captain said that it was not concerning that you were laying sideways - eventually you'll run out of room to turn over like that. But we'll see. Daddy never turned the right way, and as your genetics are half his, I am keeping the idea in the back of my head, just in case.

Well sweetpea, I think next time we'll have to hear from Daddy. We go to the doctor again this week for a check up - we'll see what Daddy has to say after that.

Love,
Mommy

Week 24

2006-01-24T14:00:00.000-06:00

My dear little girl,

If the Chrismtas BEFORE you are born is any indication, you are going to be one spoiled little girl next year. Mommy and Daddy drove home to Mascoutah last week. We were able to stay the entire week between Chrismtas and New Year's, which was wonderful. There was much exclamation over the size of Mommy's belly, although its really not all that big. Yet.

The holidays with all the family was quite nice. Even you received some very sweet gifts from your Aunts and Uncles. Not only were there Christmas gifts, but Mommy was surprised with a baby shower while we were home. Truthfully, I am still overwhelmed by it all. It seems the only thing left to get you is a crib. Everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) else was provided. I don't yet know how to thank everyone for their incredible generosity.

After all the baby related festivities, Daddy and I found out that shopping for you is really quite easy. Too easy, in fact. We had not gotten anything for you before now, and everyone else giving us things for you must have guilted us both a bit. So out we went, shopping after Christmas. Let's just say that you are going to be one very well dressed little girl. Better dressed than either of your parents, that's for sure.

Your kicking and punching has gotten stronger with each day. In fact, last night Daddy was laying with his ear to my belly, listening to your little heartbeat, and telling you what a good life you were going to have. When WHAP. A kick, right to the side of Daddy's head. You are such a good girl.

Daddy really seems to be looking forward to a house full of women. This is interesting to me because Daddy really is a boy at heart. He is all about the football, and baseball, and basketball, and hockey, etc. He has, of late, become a big fan of Title IX which is also funny. I do hope you inherit his athletic skill, and love for competition.

But Daddy really loves his girls. And we are going to work hard to remember to tell Daddy that his girls love him right back, aren't we?

We did have a doctor's visit just before the holiday, but I think I will let Daddy tell that story. Needless to say, everything is good. Although, we were informed that after our next appointment at the end of January, we'll start seeing the good Captain Gyno every two weeks. I am struggling to get my mind around the idea that we are already so close to the last trimester. In fact, tomorrow marks week 25 - only 15 more to go. The idea of being on the downward slope of this part of the journey has me pretty terrified.

In my head, I know that its silly to be scared. Seriously - have you SEEN some of the women who have given birth? I must be at least as strong as them, right? Nonetheless, I have consciously forced the idea of labor and delivery out of my head, it has me so nervous. I think its mostly because everyone has a different story about their delivery. Which means its different each time. Which means that there's just not a lot of planning I can do. You remember what I told you about Mommy being a planner, right?

Anyway, I think part of it is that you've been so easy on me this far. I figure you must be storing up for some SERIOUS discomfort at some point, right?

Love,
Mommy

Week 21

2005-12-13T13:59:00.000-06:00

My dear little girl,

Its funny how that before you are even born, you have already got Daddy wrapped up around your little finger. Your kicking and punching in there are now quite strong, and Daddy is enamored each time he can feel you moving around in there. Mommy finds it a bit less charming, but only because you seem to have a bullseye painted on my poor bladder.

Actually, the kicking isn't so bad. Its the somersaults that get me. I find it hard to believe that you have enough room in there for all that turning over and around, but you certainly do. And all of my vital organs get shifted around when you decide its time to change positions. It is a bizarre feeling, to say the least. A bit like my stomach turning over, but not quite that uncomfortable. It has taken some time to get used to, for sure.

You and I have now made it past the half-way point. During our last visit to see the Captain, he commented that, "Now is the easy part of pregnancy." I almost hated to break it to him, that its all been pretty easy thus far. I am sure you will make up for that at some point in your life, so I better not get too comfortable.

Daddy has been working for the past couple weeks to get the extra room and your room painted. Well, he's mostly working on the extra room - I think he is waiting on your room so that I can be there to help. Even though we know you are a little girl, we are both intent on keeping the pink and frills to a minimum. The sad part is, one of Mommy's favorite colors is pink.

Now, if only I could convince all your loving female relatives that you don't need any Barbies. At all. Ever. I will probably find myself the very uncool Mommy, but have you seen girls today? Twelve year olds wearing midrift-bearing shirts and platform shoes? The sooner you learn that the feminine ideal has nothing to do with boobs, or legs, or fanny, the happier you will be. I just think keeping you away from Barbie, and any barbie-like substitute, is a good idea. And if that excludes me from the cool mom club, so be it.

I will happily get down off my soapbox now, thank you very much. Please be kind to Mommy's vital organs while you're doing all that moving around in there. And when we get home for Christmas, and your Aunts all want to feel you moving, please give them a good kick or two. Otherwise, I will have three hands permanently attached to my belly through the entire holiday.

Love,
Mommy

Week 19

2005-11-28T13:43:00.000-06:00

Dear Embreu,

Well, today was a big day. I know that it was just another day inside of your warm and somewhat cramped womb, but for myself and Mommy it was huge....very important.

Yes, we were going to our doctor to see you. And that is always big, especially since we had not seen you in some time. And yes, it was big because we were thankfully going to find you very, very healthy. Yet again, you didn't disappoint on that front as evidenced when Captain Gyno enters the room saying,"Now that's an ultrasound!!" It was also a big day because we found out another reason why Mommy's the best (we never forget that)... because she is carrying you so beautifully.

But the reason today was not just another big day at the doctor's office. The reason that made today huge was that myself, your Mommy, and some nurse whose name that I didn't even know... today was the day... that we... we were going to look at your genitals. That's right, after much searching (you're going to be a great hide and seek player if today was any indication), today we found out what gender you are.

At first, I was in a bit of shock. I had predicted your gender correctly from the start. But I had started to buy into the hype of those around me. Anyone with an opinion on these things, including the good Captain, was telling me the opposite of my original guess. But during the ultrasound, with what we found, or perhaps it was what we didn't find, proved nearly everyone wrong. In that moment I found out that I was going to have a daughter.

And somehow everything felt different. Suddenly, I no longer felt like AN expectant father, A dad, or A daddy. No, I felt like 'Daddy' for the first time. Let me tell you, little one, it was one of the greatest feelings of my life to feel that way. If I feel this way now, I cannot even comprehend how it is going to feel when you emerge from your, at that point, overly-cramped womb this Spring. I do know this, however. I absolutely cannot wait to find out.

Love,
Daddy

Week 18

2005-11-19T13:41:00.000-06:00

Dear Embreu,

Ok, Ensign Squirmy, I get it. You're in there. You have MADE YOUR PRESENCE KNOWN. For the past week and a half you have been remarkably mobile. I certainly expected to feel something, but I just don't think I expected you to be this active.

Daddy is still waiting to feel you for himself, which I think is another week or so away. While I can feel you clearly (and thank you for that kick to the bladder - I am sure I have many more to come), there seems to be a bit too much cushioning yet for Daddy to feel. Although, that hasn't stopped him from trying.

Mommy has firmly moved into maternity clothes. It seems like it was almost overnight where shirts that were baggy on me, are now quite snug. Of course, pants are still baggy in the rear (thank you very much), but moving to a smaller size in maternity pants seems to help. However, the belly. . . well, the belly it cannot be contained.

This week we travel home to St. Louis for Thanksgiving. I had hoped you would be at least a little visible by then, and so you are.

This time of year is my favorite. I love Christmas decorations, crisp weather, and turkey. And the thought hit me today, that this is our last Christmas without you. What an odd thought that is. . . Next year will be entirely different with you around for your very first Christmas. I know you won't remember it, but we sure will.

Next year means an extra person on the Christmas list. More organized travel plans. A new face on the annual holiday card. The family more excited to see you than Mommy or Daddy. It is going to be wonderful.

Love,
Mommy

Week 16

2005-11-04T13:41:00.000-06:00

Dear Embreu,

You will realize early in your young life with me that I am horribly forgetful. The sad part is, I have an excellent memory for completely useless information ( a trait I desperately hope you will inherit - I think it will drive Daddy crazy ). But dates? Things to do that aren't written on a list? What I had for dinner last night? Its all a big blank. Actually, dinner last night was really incredible salmon and salad - do you remember? Daddy is really getting quite good with the cooking, lucky you. Regardless, here we are at the start of week 16, and I've missed three weeks of entries.

The truth is, you are pretty darn easy. Except for Mommy's poochy belly, it is easy to forget about you at times. "They" say that I should be able to feel you move starting some time in the next few weeks - that, perhaps, will be what drives it all home. But for now, the only evidence of you is my drastically shrinking wardrobe.

We met with the good Captain Gyno last week. Your heartbeat was nice and strong again - in the 130s. I have gained all of 5.5 lbs so far - and all of it belly, since everything else seems to be getting smaller. We will find out at our next visit ( the Monday after Thanksgiving ) if you are a boy or girl. The doc is betting on boy, but I'm not sure how reliable his guesses are. Daddy and I had in our heads girl, but I know Aunt Sarah and Uncle Andy are certain you are a boy. I guess we will find out soon enough.

I have always told your father that human life is proof of God. The fact that you have been created from this tiny mass of cells, and that you will grow up to be this perfectly unique individual - that, in my mind, is proof that God exists. You will have your own look, your own mind, your own heart. And as beautiful as I think that is, it also scares the living crap out of me.

I am not, by nature, a control freak. However, I am an obsessive planner. I like to have a plan, whether it be for dinner, or for what family we see when over the holidays. I like plans so much, in fact, Mommy tends to go into freak out mode when plans don't quite go the way they should.

Daddy comes from a long line of non-planners. Not only do they not plan, they don't ever seemed bothered by the lack of plan. In the least. This is something that has always been difficult for me to understand. But, living with Daddy as long as I have has caused me to not freak out quite so much when plans go awry.

Regardless of my loosening up about this, YOU absolutely terrify me. Let me rephrase. I know me. And I know Daddy. But you are going to be this completely unique blend of the two of us - and I have absolutely no idea how that's going to turn out. How on earth can I plan anything without knowing what you're going to be like? Some people will say that that's just part of the fun - getting to know your child. But honestly, this completely freaks me out. I mean, I'm not worried about whether or not we will love you - we already do. Or that you will love us - you ARE kind of stuck with us. But what if you hate to read? Or think the idea of family game night in front of the fire is stupid? And what happens if you decide you love to play golf? ( not that there's anything wrong with golf - I just don't know much about it )

Soon-to-be-Parenthood is strange in that I can't stop thinking about what you're going to be like. Wondering. Daydreaming. And while I'm not going to let myself get tied to any imagined version of you, the idea of meeting the real you still terrifies me. But, in the same thought, I can hardly wait until you're here, and we do get to meet face-to-face.

Love,
Mommy

Week 19

2005-10-13T13:40:00.000-05:00

My dear Embreu,

Well, week 13 has come and past awfully quickly. Week 40 still seems like an eternity away, but I am quite sure it will arrive before Daddy or I realize it.

I don't want you to feel any pressure, but you should realize as quickly as possible that you are going to be a Cardinal's fan. This is a genetic imperative, handed down on both sides of your family. There is no escaping it, even though you may try. Even if you only have lukewarm feelings about baseball, when you see those boys in red take the field, you will realize why baseball is the national past time.

The Cardinals, currently, are two wins away from going to the World Series. This past Monday night, they pulled out a thrilling win at the very end of the game. Mommy, unfortunately, had decided that the game was over and that it was time to sleep. These days, your Mommy really likes to sleep.

Daddy called on the phone just after the game ended. And I am still kicking myself for not staying away 10 minutes longer to watch the end of the game. Mommy has learned her lesson, and will be trying very hard to stay up tonight and tomorrow night to watch all the way through to the end.

Other than that, this week has been pretty uneventful. You are starting to pooch my belly out pretty good now, which is kinda fun to watch. But, it makes picking clothes to wear kinda hard. My staples for work now are any skirt that's got an elastic waistband.

Well, our next appointment with the Captain will be on the 27th. Which will be the start of Week 16. And then the NEXT visit after that we get to find out if you are a little boy or a little girl. Won't that be exciting???

Love,
Mommy

Week 12

2005-10-11T13:37:00.000-05:00

My dear Embreu,

Well, tomorrow marks the start of Week 13. Which means, little one, you and I have made it successfully through the dreaded first trimester! You are now officially a fetus. Which is a name I think you keep until Daddy and I see you sometime in April. We check our book each week to see the drawings of what you look like - it is hard for me to believe that in a short 12 weeks you already have arms, legs, hands, feet, fingers, and toes. Its no wonder Mommy is tired all the time, with all that growing you're doing.

This past week marked Mommy and Daddy's first anniversary. Well, technically our 12th, but you know how that goes. I can remember with such detail the day your Daddy asked me out on our first date. We were in Senior Hall at school, at the very end of the day. I'm not sure why we were both there so late - basketball and something or another. We were the only two in the hall. I think we had been talking, and Daddy picked up his pace to leave. He turned back to me as if it was an afterthought, and asked, "Do you want to go to the dance with me?" And that, was pretty much that.

Daddy will probably remember that episode differently. But that half turn back to me is a movement that will be etched in my memory until senility decides to take it away. The night before the dance, October 8, was the bonfire and pep rally at the park. Your Daddy and I went together, and as we walked from the car to the party, he grabbed my hand as we crossed over a ditch. And that's where it stayed for most of the night. At barely 17, this was quite a thrill for young Mommy. Not only were we HOLDING HANDS, but we were doing so in public, in the presence of our peers.

I find it odd that after 12 years together, going back to those moments still makes me feel like I did when I was 17.

Well, I think that's enough of a trip down Mommy's memory lane. This past week has been pretty good. Mommy is still feeling quite good, at least good enough to be spending 11 hours a day at work. I think the naps at my desk over lunch help out. Daddy has been planning out all the projects to finish around the house before you arrive. Now that the weather is nice, there are all sorts of things that can be done. And Daddy is intent on getting ALL of that work done before April. I'm thinking he's going to need a little help, but he is awfully determined.

Keep growing, little one. Daddy is already fascinated with Mommy's little poochy belly - the bigger you get, the more amazed he is. ;-)

Love,
Mommy

Week 11

2005-10-05T13:36:00.000-05:00

Dear Embreu:

Well, it's that time again...that time when your Dad rambles and meanders around the English language trying to grasp for the words to convey to you, my unborn child, how excited I am about your impending arrival. Yes, that's right. It is, once again, time for Daddy's Journal Entry.

Today, I want to talk about worry. I'm sure the people reading this are saying, "Worry?? I thought these were supposed to be happy journal entries?" Yes, that's right....worry. There is much excitemnet in your Daddy's life right now. However, accompanying that excitement is a heavy dose of worry.

I worry about many, many things. As always, I worry about Mommy. I always worry about Mommy because she is the best, and we (you and I, Embreu) shall never forget this. She is nice to everyone. This makes Daddy concrerned because it's his job to make sure that Mommy is always safe. It's not that Mommy can't take care of herself, it's just that Daddy.....well, he's a paranoid, over-protective freak when it comes to Mommy. So, yeah, I worry about Mommy.

Second, I worry about you. This is going to sound strange, but there are times that I think very little about you. These are usually the first several days after we have a checkup. We go in to the doctor's office, you show off your robust health for everyone, and then we go home happy.....and I don't worry. At least, not for a while. Daddy sits back and relaxes, and is as content as a man with a healthy wife and fetus gets. Life is a beer commercial...beautiful women (mommy, of course), sports (go cardinals), and beer (not for mommy, of course).

But then something funny happens. That Thursday of the month when you show of your robust health for everyone is fast approaching. Worry and doubt start to creep in. The beer commercial is over, except for maybe that one where the referees come and steal all the beer. Will Mommy and Embreu still be healthy?? Suddenly, Daddy doesn't know. And you know what else? There's not a damn thing that he can do about it either...except hold it inside and let his worry eat away at him because that's the healthiest (manliest?) way to handle it.

But then something else happens. Thursday finally comes. We go and visit Captain Gyno, and you know what happens?? Yeah, we still wait, but after that. You once again show off your robust health for everyone. Ah, the relief is sweet.

So, daddy may be driving himself crazy, but you my friend, you are one consistent, hard working fetus. So yeah, next month I'll be worried, but for now life is back to being a beer commercial. My wife is still beautiful, my fetus is healthy, and my mind is back at ease. The only thing that I can think to say is: It doesn't get any better than this.

Love,
Daddy

Week 10

2005-09-27T13:36:00.000-05:00

Dear Embreu,

I came to the realization this week, that there is no one that I'd rather having helping me through this time than your Daddy. Its not that I hadn't really decided that BEFORE we decided to have you. Its just that now that you are on your way, I have seen a change in your Daddy that has taken me by surprise. But really, if you could see the way he spoils the cats, you would think I was silly for being surprised by him.

When we first found out about you, Daddy kept his distance a bit. Even when we were laying like spoons, Daddy was careful to keep his arm away from Mommy's belly. It seemed that he was so worried about hurting you, he would sleep in uncomfortable positions. It was really quite sweet. It took Daddy a few days to even touch the belly.

Daddy got over that. Now, its all I can do to KEEP him from touching the belly. Now that you have started to pooch out a bit, I get all the belly rubbing I can handle.

Daddy seems to so enjoy being close to us, that almost every evening is spent like spoons on the sofa watching TV. I pointed out the other night, that in a few more months the three of us were going to be more than our poor sofa could handle. But Daddy isn't one to be deterred. He had already developed an ingenious plan, so that no matter how big Mommy gets, we can still lay like spoons on the sofa and watch TV. It is times like this that I know with all my heart I married the right man.

And then there is Daddy's willingness to cater to every food whim you and I can conjure. Banana split? Let's go to Dairy Queen. Hummus? Let's track down all the ingredients, no matter how many grocery stores we have to visit. It seems like Daddy is just willing to oblige. Which is so wonderful. And is also the reason I try very hard not to be mean or complain too much to Daddy. He does enough to take care of us, he doesn't need all that.

So, Embreu, I guess the lesson of this entry is that you are one lucky little baby. Daddy is already taking care of you so wonderfully, and he will be a pro at it by the time you get here. So you just have nothing to worry about. . .

No pressure, little one, but we will be seeing you the day after tomorrow. I expect to see arms AND legs, and a distinct lack of tail. But no pressure. . .

Love,
Mommy

Note from Grandpa Jeffries

2005-09-20T13:35:00.000-05:00

Dearest Embreu,

When you first join us on the surface of this somewhat troubled planet, know that you will be greeted by many people with hugs and kisses, and all of us will want to cuddle you. All of us will love you, too.

Since I am the father of your mother, I have some experience with babies your size. I also have experience being the husband of a pregnant wife. While your Mommy and Daddy are learning day by day with you, all four of your grandparents know the joy of a baby growing inside the womb of their mother. All four of us love you more than you can imagine, my dear grandchild. So, to help you, I will try and help your parents become parents, and thus make your way through this world a little easier.

Your mother will get a little anxious because the time during your period inside of her goes oh so very slow (or so it SEEMS). Her body will change, her sleeping habits will change, and her hormones will deal your Daddy fits at times. They have been a family for a long time, but you, my dear child, will make them a true family. I know that you have been good to your mother thus far, and she is grateful for that. As you grow, she grows. Her body will get larger and perhaps she will feel that she is a little less attractive to your Daddy because of her larger body. I will now tell you and your Mommy, that your Daddy will love the "larger Mommy" because he already loves you both so very, very much. It is such an exciting time for all of your grandparents and aunts, but to your parents you will help prove the existence of God -- because you truly ARE a miracle. One little cell gets fertalized and from that one little cell come Nobel prize winners, Pulitzer prize winners, great leaders, great educators and great theologians. More importantly, though, is from that one cell provided by your mother and enhanced by your father, comes a brand new human. A brand new human! Imagine! Knowing the intellect of your parents, their love for one another, their absolute joy in their marriage and their creativity of you, you will be doubly blessed. Because of their love for one another, and because of the way they were raised by their parents, you iwll know love and acceptance your entire life.

Your father will get a little anxious, too, and no matter how much your Mommy tries to make him actually feel the experience of her pregnancy with you, he will feel a little on the outside of it all. His daily life has only changed slightly, he has a baby growing inside of his wife, but he, himself goes through no hormonal change or body changes as she does. So, besides watching his wife get larger as you get larger, he doesn't experience the essence of pregnancy, that it, until you grow large enough to start moving in the womb. The first time he puts his hand on your Mommy's belly and feels you push out with your little hands and little feet, he will glow. The reality of you is then physically present to him. I remember 30 years ago when my young wife was carrying your Mommy inside of her. At night, when we were in bed, she would push her belly against my back and I could feel your little Mommy pushing against me, trying to get comfortable inside her increasingly smaller space. It made me misty eyed when I felt your mother. And the same will happen to your Daddy.

So, the time for all of you will seem to go very slowly. I will share one thing with you that your Mommy and Daddy can look forward to. That wait is seemingly long, but the reward for this wait is tremendous. When your mother was first born, literally seconds after she was born, I was holding her. When I looked at my brand new baby -- a product of the love between your Grandmother and me -- it was like seeing the face of God. I cried my eyes out with joy, with pure, unabashed joy.

So, dear Embreu, when your Mommy and Daddy first hold you, the torrents of emotion they have felt for you, and for each other, will surface like a tidal wave. From that moment, they will know what true love is. From that moment, they will love you more than they have ever loved anyone else in their lives. From that moment, they will continue to love you in that exact same way for always.

Ready to go camping with me and Grandma?

I love you.
Grandpa Jeffries

Week 9

2005-09-20T13:33:00.000-05:00

Dear Embreu,

If only you could have seen the rejoicing and crying that went on this weekend. As hard as it was to keep you a secret, waiting to tell everyone in person was absolutely worth every minute.

We started the weekend off with a Jeffries' dinner on Friday night. We met Grandma and Grandpa Jeffries, Aunt Sarah, Aunt Beth and Uncle Travis, and Great-Grandma Jeffries out for dinner. Uncle Andy was hard at work, so he couldn't make it. We had wrapped up t-shirts that said "Grandma" and "Grandpa" on them, and passed them over to be opened up. The scream that your Grandma let out was outstanding - when it finally hit her what we were saying. Grandpa looked to be in shock just a bit, but got over it quickly. I guess that was a sign we had kept a very good secret! Although, Aunt Sarah (who has a sense about these things) swears she knew it was coming.

On Saturday morning, we met the Hanes' for breakfast. It was so nice to get everyone in one spot! For your Grandma and Grandpa, we put together a photo album of our new house. They have not had the chance to see it just yet. Stuck in the middle of the photos, was a picture of Mommy's belly with the caption "Baby's Room" written underneath. Grandma and Grandpa blew right by the photo. It took them a minute to realize what we were saying. Grandpa Hanes must have said "wow" 12 times! He was completely shocked. Grandma Hanes burst into tears, and proclaimed you the cutest baby in the family. So I guess you have a lot to live up to!

Finally, on Sunday it was time for the Funk Anniversary Party. Your great-grandparents were celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary. We had all gathered for a family dinner, and it was time to open cards and presents. I passed a gift bag to your Great-Grandma Funk, and told her that she had to hang onto the gift, because it was something we would need at her house next summer when we come to visit. She opened the brightly-colored sippy-cup, and knew immediately what was going on. She's a smart old broad, that one. Your Great-Grandpa Funk cried a little bit - and that was perhaps the only time in my life I have ever seen that strong man cry. It was just wonderful.

So, the word is out. This whole pregnancy thing is starting to feel that much more real. We even received our first bit of baby clothes from your Aunt Sarah and Uncle Andy. So now the pressure is really on. Its up to you to stay healthy and keep growing.

Its funny, I am slowly beginning to understand what it means to financially support your family. Since Daddy is going to stay home with you, it is up to Mommy to keep working. These past few weeks, whenever there has been a bump in the road at work, I really start to panic. I am sure that the panic will ease a bit as time passes, but for now I am in full-on freak-out mode. I just have to believe that if I work hard and do my best, things are going to work out as the good Lord intends. No matter what that outcome may be. And I have to keep in my head that you will be taken care of, no matter what.

Love,
Mommy

Week 8

2005-09-12T13:31:00.000-05:00

My darling Embreu,

Oh how I hope that these first 8 weeks are any indication of what is to come, whether it be the next 8 months or the next 18 years. While I am still tired all the time, I seem to have escaped the dreaded morning sickness thus far. I have had some momentary nausea, but nothing terrible. I do hope that this is a sign of what's to come over the next 8 months. Please, feel free to keep being so easy on Mommy.

We are FINALLY going home to Mascoutah this weekend. It has been so difficult keeping this big secret from the family, and it will be such a relief to finally be able to tell everyone. I think I will begin to feel much more pregnant once that is done. For now, since we aren't really telling anyone and since I don't have any horrible symptoms, it has been somewhat easy to forget about you from time to time. While this does make me feel guilty at times, I have read that it is perfectly normal. So at least I am not the only pregnant woman who forgets she's pregnant.

Daddy and I learned one important lesson this weekend. It is best to not let the pregnant Mommy go grocery shopping by herself. Instead of bringing home the celery, chicken stock, and canned biscuits required for a tasty dinner of chicken and dumplings, Mommy came home with ice cream, pudding, and corn dogs. All of those things sounded perfectly sane to me at the time, but poor Daddy looked at me like I was off my rocker. And to think, this is only week 8!

The other milestone this past week was actual weight gain! At least, according to the scale at home, which seems to not be anywhere close to the scale at Dr. Sandifer's office. 2 whole pounds were gained since our last doctor's visit. At that point, I had actually lost a half a pound, so I guess that puts you at plus 1.5. Well done, Embreu!

Well, little one, it about time for Mommy to head home for the night. Keep up all your hard work in there - and Daddy and I will see you on the 29th.

Love,
Mommy

P.S. I would like to offer up a sincere apology to Embrue's Aunt Sarah, Aunt Beth, and Grandma Jeffries. It has been killing me all month not being able to tell you three. But it just didn't seem right to deliver such news over the phone. I hope you understand. . .

Week 7

2005-09-07T13:29:00.000-05:00

Dear Embreu:

Well, this is Week 7. Actually, it's technically Week 8, but your daddy is a procrastinator so I am just getting to my part of the journal now. Oh yeah, this is your daddy writing, not mommy. So, since I am such a procrastinator, we are going to have to power up the Way-Back Machine.....or maybe we should call it the Somewhat-far-Back Machine, and go back to last Thursday.

So, there we were. Your Mommy and I sitting in the doctor's office, and do you know what we were doing?? We were waiting. Because, in my experience, that's what you do at the doctor's office.....you wait. What do you do while you wait? Well, if you're your daddy, you make lots of jokes. Sometimes these jokes make Mommy laugh. Sometimes they make Mommy uncomfortable. No matter how these jokes make Mommy feel, Daddy keeps them coming because he is hilarious.

You also look at magazines about how best to raise you while you wait to see the doctor. These are mostly useless as far as I can tell because these people who write these magazines don't even know me, your mommy, or you. Plus, they pretty much suggest that you treat your child like a wussy. I don't know if you are a boy or a girl, but whatever you are you will not be a wussy. Nor will I raise you like one.

The other thing that you do while you wait to see the doctor is give dirty looks to people who showed up after you, but are being seen before you. Mommy doesn't know that I noticed this, but she is very good at this part of waiting for the doctor. Don't tell her that I told you this.

And finally, you worry while you wait to see the doctor. I worry about whether you will be healthy because they tell me that we will see your heartbeat today. I worry about Mommy because, currently, she is my life. Mommy's the best....you'll find this out soon enough. We want to keep her healthy because niether of us is going very far without her.

So, now we are not waiting. For a long time we were, but now we're getting down to business. Mommy is amusingly assuming the uncomfortable position that is apparently required to get a good look at you. Mommy asks me if I can see you on the monitor. I shake my head. And then suddenly, there you are. You don't look like much, but I can tell that it's you. I then nod to Mommy. Now, we get to hear your hearbeat. And apparently you are already a bit of a show off because the nurse seems very impressed with your robust 173 beats per minute. And then, that's it. Mommy gets out of the awkward position that is required for viewing you. Daddy is very pleased. You have shown off to the nurse. You are extremely healthy. The nurse says,"Everything looks good.", including Mommy.

Now, we wait some more. We look at your photo for a while. Add that to the previous list of what you do when you wait for the doctor.

Then, we get to see Captain Gy....er the doctor, himself. He shakes my hand and asks if I'm excited. I say yes, but at this point I'm really just tired of waiting for him. He gives you and your mom a few "atta boys" and we are on our way. No more waiting, at least not for another month.

But you know what? I'm looking forward to waiting. Because it means I get to see you again, if only for a moment. So, what I'm saying is I can't wait to wait again.

Love,
Daddy

Week 6

2005-08-24T13:27:00.000-05:00

My Dear Embreu,

Look, sweetheart. I know that your genetics are half Hanes. But THIS is ridiculous. I mean, seriously. Tropical Punch Kool Aid? Are you kidding me??? Most fruity drinks I merely tolerate (except Strawberry Soda), and Kool Aid is always a bit of a stretch. But I HATE anything in the punch family! And what have I been drinking the past two nights? TROPICAL PUNCH KOOL AID. Your father is getting a trememdous laugh out of this, knowing full well that it is his wacked out genes causing THIS bizarre craving.

Other that that peculiarity, I feel remarkably fine. Some mild nausea now and then (ever since I started on the prenatal vitamins), but for the most part I feel great. I actually feel a bit guilty for that - so many women are miserable through this time. I am hoping that you are just going to be easy on me throughout, at this point.

Daddy is doing such a good job of taking care of us. I am trying very hard to not be difficult, but I have found it terribly easy to get used to all this pampering. I am going to work harder to not take advantage of Daddy's good nature.

Keep growing, little one. We'll get to see you again on the 1st, and I can't wait to see all the progress you'll have made by then!

Love,
Mommy

Week 5

2005-08-19T13:25:00.000-05:00

Dear Little Embryo,

Your father has come up with a new name for you. We started by calling you Embro. Daddy felt that that was too masculine (as opposed to Embra), so we have split the difference. Henceforth, you will be called Embreu (em-BREW). Or, at least until you are brought into the harsh light of the delivery room. I hope that all this subliminal messaging will not mean that in old age you will drive a Buick (BREW-ick, as Daddy says) and root for Milwaukee (the BREW-ers). He will feel horribly guilty if that happens, I'm sure.

Yesterday was our first obstetrics appointment with Dr. Sandifer. A lovely lady took an internal ultrasound, and there you were. A little blurry dot on the screen. While I was very excited to see you there — in the right spot and everything — it still seems strange to me. We are scheduled to go back in two weeks, where we will be able to see baby you with a heart beat and everything. I think that seeing THAT will bring it closer to home for me. Especially since you really have not made your presence known in any other ways just yet — except for the having to pee every 10 minutes.

Dr. Sandifer seems very nice. He answered the few questions I had the way I had hoped he would, which was a relief. But honestly, I was so nervous to be talking to a real obstetrician about you that I forgot a lot of what I wanted to say. That, plus the fact that we had spent two and a half HOURS waiting to see the doctor.

According to the very nice nurse who did the ultrasound (you remember her - she shined a bright light at you!), you were 5 weeks and 1 day old yesterday. Which means, you started your little journey with us on Daddy's birthday. He was so excited to find this out, and felt it was very fitting. . .

The other good news we got was that we should feel comfortable telling people about you after our next appointment. Which means the visit home for the Funk's wedding anniversary party will be particularly eventful. I was intent on telling everyone in person — it just wouldn't be the same, having to tell the family over the phone. Now, I can hardly wait for September 16 to get here. It has be SO DIFFICULT not to tell the families, especially (for me) the Jeffries side. They represent half of your genetics, and are going to be SO EXCITED, and I can hardly wait to see the looks on their faces.

Grandma and Grandpa Jeffries are planning to visit us in November. I am guessing that after we tell them about you, we will see them October, November, December, etc. I think that Daddy and I are going to wait to paint your room until they are here. We could use the help, and I am sure they would like to help out with something having to do with you.

Well, little one, please keep up all the growing you have been doing. Mommy really loves being able to eat whatever, and loves not getting nauseous. Keep up all your good work in there!

Love,
Mommy

Week 4

2005-08-19T13:24:00.000-05:00

Dear Little Embryo,

Last night the digital read out flashed "Pregnant" at us, and your father and I realized for the first time that you were on your way. I had not been watching the dates very closely — but Daddy knows my cycle better than I do, and we checked the calendar on Sunday. Sure enough, I was a bit overdue. Since I typically work like a clock, we both had an inkling that you were in there somewhere. The test last night told us in writing.

I was so happy to see that little "Pregnant" flash. The happiness was followed closely by apprehension — are we ready for you? The answer is a resounding NO right now. We are not ready just yet. The next nine months are going to bring a lot of changes to the Hanes household. Changes for the better, to be sure. And while we have always handled change well in the past, the first brush with the impending change tends to make me edgy. Part of me is anxious for the changes to be done and over, part of me (the old girl scout!) feels completely unprepared for what lies ahead.

I love your father so very much. The idea that we have created an entirely unique person in there somewhere — fills me with such hope for the future. I have been thinking about all the different combinations of Mommy (so strange to use that word. . .) and Daddy that you might have. My book smarts and Daddy's athleticism. My green eyes and Daddy's dark curly hair. My social nature and Daddy's unusual view of the world around him. You will, I fear, be stuck with crooked teeth, and a need for glasses as you get older. You've got a 50% chance of having a good clumsy streak. You've got a 50% chance of being tall for your age. And I'm quite certain you'll be a Neil Diamond fan, and root for the Cardinals. The thing I realize now is that no matter what combination of your father and myself — you will be this amazing blend of us. A physical representation of the love we have for each other. Is that a selfish way of looking at it?

I cannot wait to tell the rest of the family about you. For now, we are keeping you our little secret. We are heading home in September to celebrate the 60th wedding anniversary of your Great Grandparents. I hope that you will be big and strong enough by then so that we can share our news. You are so very lucky in that you will have a large, very loving family. All of your Aunts have been waiting patiently for news of your eventual arrival — I cannot wait to see the looks on their faces when we tell them about you. Your Grandma Jeffries will cry — part of me thinks your Grandpa Jeffries will do the same. Your Grandma Hanes is quite the weeper as well, but I'm not sure how your Grandpa Hanes will react. You will have no shortage of grandparents, aunts, and uncles all clamoring for time alone with you. I think you will be the only baby in the family for a few years yet — your cousins will come along a bit later.

I don't think that the idea of you has sunk in just yet. I'm still trying to get my mind around it all. I want to be honest with you — not paint a rosy picture of pregnancy and parenthood. In the past 24 hours I have been elated, confident, terrified, and nervous. The next nine months are going to be quite a ride. I am glad that we are going to be on this ride together. . .

Love,
Mommy