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Thursday, December 30, 2004
Katie's baptism day
Here's a picture of Katie on her baptism day, Dec. 19. She's wearing a baptism dress that is almost 100 years old -- it was first worn by her great-great-grandmother Margaret in 1909.
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Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Another Nickname
Mr. Pickles forgot to mention one more nickname: Katie Kaboom (a character from good ol' Animaniacs). This is a very versatile name b/c it can either refer to her Kaboom hair, or her other end (she's already gotten the wall once)....
Pick Catherine's New Nickname
So you've always wanted to give your friend or family member a nickname, but you never had the opportunity or creative knack to devise a name. Or perhaps you never had that runty little brother whom you could pick on, for which a nickname would have been appropo. Well, here's your opportunity to help us pick a new nickname for our daughter. The following list contains the potential nicknames for Catherine.
- Katie--Obvious and unoriginal. It will never stand out in this Brave New World of beloved novelty. However, the name is a classic, and it has some good history in our families (particularly on Mrs. Pickles side of the family). More "original" names appear below. An excellent name that could never be wrong.
- Katie Bear--Read the post from 12/13/2004 and look at the picture in that post to understand how this name came about. With such a fuzzy head of hair, we couldn't help but think of a fuzzy bear.
- B.C.--Abbreviation for Baby Catherine. It may also be used as a nickname for Miriam--an abbreviation for Before Catherine.
- Ben--The first name of Ben Wallace. Why on earth would we use an NBA star's name for a nickname? Look at Katie's picture.
Now compare that hair with this picture of Ben. The resemblance from the forehead up is uncanny, isn't it?
- The Chin--A name used for her alterego if she ever decides to don black tights and join the crime fighting circuit. ("Not until your 18, young lady!") Given the additional chin(s) it's an appropriate name. Her likely superpowers include irresistible cuteness combined with projectile vomiting--a deadly combination.
- The Grunt--An alternate name for her alterego. Her superpower is the ability to shock any person into submission with noises that seem to defy the laws of physics. For instance, noises that you would only expect to come from a much larger individual. Exhibit A: Catherine falling asleep. ("wheez, wheez, whine, GRUUUUUUNNNNNNTTT!!!!")
- Don--Short for Don King. Look at the hair again. That comparison should adequately inform you on the inspiration for this nickname.
That is the sum total of our current nicknames. Tell us your favorite in the comments below.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Katie at one month
Here's a photo of Catherine taken yesterday, on her One Monthday. :) She now weighs in at 10 lbs.! (She's got the extra chin to prove it, too.) We just moved her up to size 1 diapers. *sigh* They grow up so fast!
I got her to smile by having Miriam come over and talk to her -- Katie is absolutely fascinated by Miriam. It's neat watching their relationship develop already -- often when Katie is crying, she'll be comforted by Miriam just coming up, holding her hand, and talking to her. (usually something along the lines of, "Baby, it's okay. I know, I know. It's okay. You hungwy? I know.")
And why "Bear", do you ask? Just look at the hair! She's our fuzzy little baby bear. :)
Katie Bear -- 1 mo.
I got her to smile by having Miriam come over and talk to her -- Katie is absolutely fascinated by Miriam. It's neat watching their relationship develop already -- often when Katie is crying, she'll be comforted by Miriam just coming up, holding her hand, and talking to her. (usually something along the lines of, "Baby, it's okay. I know, I know. It's okay. You hungwy? I know.")
And why "Bear", do you ask? Just look at the hair! She's our fuzzy little baby bear. :)
Katie Bear -- 1 mo.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Latest Miriam Sayings
(We had this mostly written out a month ago, just didn't finish it & post it until now!)
It's fun watching something learn to put a language together from the bottom up. It's so obvious to us how much Miriam learns from copying our phrases. The problem is she doesn't always quite get it right – for example she'll say something like, “Bear, you happy to see me, don't you.” We've also been working on getting her to say “may I” instead of “can I” -- but the end result has been, “Can I may?” Another hilarious question she asks is “What's that thing?” It doesn't sound funny unless you understand she's referring to a person. Once we had a salesman knock on our door, and as he was leaving, Miriam called after him, “Mommy, what's that thing?” I tried to cover up by saying, “You mean, who's that person?” but I was still SOOO embarrassed.
Miriam knows her numbers, and she can count to ten, but we're still working on counting things. When she wants to count a number of things, she invariably says, “1, 3, 2, 1. Look, Mommy! I got twos!” -- regardless of the actual number of things. (at least she understands about plural endings!)
Miriam was a banaleena for Halloween (i.e., ballerina), “an' wear pwetty shoes an' say twick o tweat an' get candy and chocate!”
You already know that Miriam is fairly musical. Mealtimes seem to be the most creative time for her. The other day she was singing the Tantum Ergo very devoutly, then all of a sudden started yelling “Q! Caw! S! T! Voo! V!” (part of her version of the alphabet)
Another mealtime religious favorite of hers of late is singing the Alleluia, then saying “Lord be wis you an also wis you, God bess you, Fadder, Hoy Speet, Amen,” then singing the Alleluia again. (we're not sure what happened to the Second Person of the Trinity...)
She also loves the alphabet tune – often we hear her singing nonsense syllables to that tune, or singing about whatever she's doing. We think she's living in a perpetual musical. This evening she was singing, “I'm a noono, I'm a noono,” while dancing one of her noodles around the rim of her cup. (after which she devoured it with a snarling sound)
Miriam will often comment on her crying episodes as soon as the storm clouds clear. For example, before her tears are even dry she'll say something like, “Meenum's cwying kabuzz no wanta eata oatmeal.” (Kabuzz is her cute version of “because” -- our favorite of her words so far!)
Not only do Miriam's hands not seem to know what the other is doing, but they seem to be downright hostile towards each other. For example, her fingers regularly fight over her sippy cups. So we're teaching them to take turns poking themselves into the sippy spout, but I guess they're slow learners: “Okay, dis hand's turn. No! Stop dat! Nauny [naughty -- said with lips puckered] hand! [smack smack smack] Dis hand need to share.”
It's a good thing that Miriam and her cousin Edy get along so well in real life, because Edy gets a lot of abuse in Miriam's imagination! Often Miriam will be playing quietly, then all of a sudden we'll hear her yelling, “Edy, no! No, Edy! Stop it! I'ma smack you! You being nauny! You need a time out!” (we're a little worried about the smacking part, since she doesn't have any contact with anyone who hits, at least as far as we know!) Of course, she also says the same things to her various stuffed animals. I guess she's just practicing for her younger sibling. ;)
I suppose one of the things Miriam likes most about her friendship with Edy is Edy's vast amount of wealth – this evening we were informed that “Edy has a bicy-o [bicycle], Edy has a bacuum, Edy has a lawnmoweh – Edy has LOTS of things!” Edy also has small versions of everything, apparently – we'll be reading a book together, and: “Look, Mommy, elephant! Edy has a little elephant.” Or we'll be driving in the car: “Look, a mocyco [motorcycle]! Edy has a little mocyco.” However, “Edy doesn't have a car. SOMEday Edy have a car.”
It's fun watching something learn to put a language together from the bottom up. It's so obvious to us how much Miriam learns from copying our phrases. The problem is she doesn't always quite get it right – for example she'll say something like, “Bear, you happy to see me, don't you.” We've also been working on getting her to say “may I” instead of “can I” -- but the end result has been, “Can I may?” Another hilarious question she asks is “What's that thing?” It doesn't sound funny unless you understand she's referring to a person. Once we had a salesman knock on our door, and as he was leaving, Miriam called after him, “Mommy, what's that thing?” I tried to cover up by saying, “You mean, who's that person?” but I was still SOOO embarrassed.
Miriam knows her numbers, and she can count to ten, but we're still working on counting things. When she wants to count a number of things, she invariably says, “1, 3, 2, 1. Look, Mommy! I got twos!” -- regardless of the actual number of things. (at least she understands about plural endings!)
Miriam was a banaleena for Halloween (i.e., ballerina), “an' wear pwetty shoes an' say twick o tweat an' get candy and chocate!”
You already know that Miriam is fairly musical. Mealtimes seem to be the most creative time for her. The other day she was singing the Tantum Ergo very devoutly, then all of a sudden started yelling “Q! Caw! S! T! Voo! V!” (part of her version of the alphabet)
Another mealtime religious favorite of hers of late is singing the Alleluia, then saying “Lord be wis you an also wis you, God bess you, Fadder, Hoy Speet, Amen,” then singing the Alleluia again. (we're not sure what happened to the Second Person of the Trinity...)
She also loves the alphabet tune – often we hear her singing nonsense syllables to that tune, or singing about whatever she's doing. We think she's living in a perpetual musical. This evening she was singing, “I'm a noono, I'm a noono,” while dancing one of her noodles around the rim of her cup. (after which she devoured it with a snarling sound)
Miriam will often comment on her crying episodes as soon as the storm clouds clear. For example, before her tears are even dry she'll say something like, “Meenum's cwying kabuzz no wanta eata oatmeal.” (Kabuzz is her cute version of “because” -- our favorite of her words so far!)
Not only do Miriam's hands not seem to know what the other is doing, but they seem to be downright hostile towards each other. For example, her fingers regularly fight over her sippy cups. So we're teaching them to take turns poking themselves into the sippy spout, but I guess they're slow learners: “Okay, dis hand's turn. No! Stop dat! Nauny [naughty -- said with lips puckered] hand! [smack smack smack] Dis hand need to share.”
It's a good thing that Miriam and her cousin Edy get along so well in real life, because Edy gets a lot of abuse in Miriam's imagination! Often Miriam will be playing quietly, then all of a sudden we'll hear her yelling, “Edy, no! No, Edy! Stop it! I'ma smack you! You being nauny! You need a time out!” (we're a little worried about the smacking part, since she doesn't have any contact with anyone who hits, at least as far as we know!) Of course, she also says the same things to her various stuffed animals. I guess she's just practicing for her younger sibling. ;)
I suppose one of the things Miriam likes most about her friendship with Edy is Edy's vast amount of wealth – this evening we were informed that “Edy has a bicy-o [bicycle], Edy has a bacuum, Edy has a lawnmoweh – Edy has LOTS of things!” Edy also has small versions of everything, apparently – we'll be reading a book together, and: “Look, Mommy, elephant! Edy has a little elephant.” Or we'll be driving in the car: “Look, a mocyco [motorcycle]! Edy has a little mocyco.” However, “Edy doesn't have a car. SOMEday Edy have a car.”
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Our New Daughter
Here are some pictures of our daughter. She was born at 7:30 am on Friday, and she weighed in at 7 lbs. 5 oz. and a little over 20 inches long.
A close up of our daughter with her customary hospital baby hat.
A picture of Mrs. Pickles looking radiant and beautiful (of course!) about 12 hours after the birth.
A picture of our new daughter on the scale about 30 minutes after birth. You should be able to see the weight on the scale in the lower left-hand portion of the picture. Check out all of that hair. Makes me (Mr. Pickles) envious! :)
Another pic of Katie on the scale. We love this shot of her. She just looks so fresh and new! The "baby Lojack" on her cord stump is a tracking device the hospital puts on all newborns now, for extra security.
CL w/her "baby Lojack"
I hope you all enjoy the pictures. We'll try to put up a summary of the birth story as soon as possible. Thank you for your love and prayers.
A close up of our daughter with her customary hospital baby hat.
A picture of Mrs. Pickles looking radiant and beautiful (of course!) about 12 hours after the birth.
A picture of our new daughter on the scale about 30 minutes after birth. You should be able to see the weight on the scale in the lower left-hand portion of the picture. Check out all of that hair. Makes me (Mr. Pickles) envious! :)
Another pic of Katie on the scale. We love this shot of her. She just looks so fresh and new! The "baby Lojack" on her cord stump is a tracking device the hospital puts on all newborns now, for extra security.
CL w/her "baby Lojack"
And finally, here's a picture of our eldest daughter with Mom. She's hamming it up as usual, though it did take a little while until she warmed up to the situation (a new rival and all).
I hope you all enjoy the pictures. We'll try to put up a summary of the birth story as soon as possible. Thank you for your love and prayers.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Spring and Fall
On Sunday, the priest in our parish gave a good homily (judging by the bits I heard inbetween caring for my daughter) on the month of November. The gist of the homily was that this month is spent on focusing upon our death, our final end. What will that final end be? What will that end bring for us? He stated that throughout the Sunday's in November The Church continues to focus upon the theology of death. What does death mean for us as Christians?
I recall one of my professors in college spending some time talking about this topic in class. He talked about the paradox that death brings to life. In youth hope continues to spring up. There is no confrontation with death, and little thought about death. The site of life brings joy and an experience of beauty. However, the experience of death causes us to mourn and question that joy. Life gives joy and hope, yet it also causes us to mourn when we acknowledge its finitude. Why should something so beautiful not last forever? There lies the echo of God in our hearts, and a calling from Him to come closer. I found this attitude best described in the following poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins. I often comes to my mind when I must rake leaves during the fall (as I did yesterday).
A young child encountering the death of something beautiful. Isn't that like us? God's children in a world full of beauty and Himself, yet also full of death. "Yet you will weep, and know why." We know why we weep. We know why we sorrow. Death will come. It will come for all of us. The beauty we see will perish, and we weep. But we will soon weep tears of joy when ushered before He who IS beauty, and our sorrow will be no more.
During this month of November, may we all remember our final end--and the final joy that should accompany it.
Christ's Peace,
I recall one of my professors in college spending some time talking about this topic in class. He talked about the paradox that death brings to life. In youth hope continues to spring up. There is no confrontation with death, and little thought about death. The site of life brings joy and an experience of beauty. However, the experience of death causes us to mourn and question that joy. Life gives joy and hope, yet it also causes us to mourn when we acknowledge its finitude. Why should something so beautiful not last forever? There lies the echo of God in our hearts, and a calling from Him to come closer. I found this attitude best described in the following poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins. I often comes to my mind when I must rake leaves during the fall (as I did yesterday).
Márgarét, are you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leáves, líke the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sórrow's spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
A young child encountering the death of something beautiful. Isn't that like us? God's children in a world full of beauty and Himself, yet also full of death. "Yet you will weep, and know why." We know why we weep. We know why we sorrow. Death will come. It will come for all of us. The beauty we see will perish, and we weep. But we will soon weep tears of joy when ushered before He who IS beauty, and our sorrow will be no more.
During this month of November, may we all remember our final end--and the final joy that should accompany it.
Christ's Peace,
Friday, November 05, 2004
Happy Halloween!
Aren't we just the scariest family? (L-R: hippie mama, "ballaneena," and Mr. Math -- he's holding an Operations Research textbook, for those who want to know)
Trick or Treat!
We apparently won some neighbors' informal pumpkin carving contest with this incredibly inside-joke pumpkin. :) (no one else got it, but several trick-or-treaters said they thought it looked cool) Next year we want to do TROGDORRRRRRRR.
"Hi, I'm Marshie!"
Trick or Treat!
We apparently won some neighbors' informal pumpkin carving contest with this incredibly inside-joke pumpkin. :) (no one else got it, but several trick-or-treaters said they thought it looked cool) Next year we want to do TROGDORRRRRRRR.
"Hi, I'm Marshie!"
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Listen to Bill!
For once I agree with Clinton.
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Also from WSJ's Best of the Web
"Snivel Discourse"
Bill Clinton was campaigning in Philadelphia the other day, and he had this to say: "If one candidate is trying to scare you and the other is trying to get you to think, if one candidate is appealing to your fears and the other one is appealing to your hopes, you better vote for the one who wants you to think and hope."
It's hard to argue with that. So, who is the candidate of hope, and who is the candidate of fear? For an answer, we turn to Slate, the online magazine, which asked each of its staff and contributors to make the case for Kerry (an intern provides the pro-Bush counterpoint). Reading their endorsements, a clear theme emerges:
Paul Berman: "The prospect of tumbling down the stairs for four more years has got me scared out of my wits. Better Kerry, then."
Kris Fritz: "If Bush gets re-elected, I might have to change citizenship and move to another country."
Mickey Kaus: "I think Bush is prosecuting the fight against terrorism in a way that will make us dramatically less safe. . . . Let the world calm down so that fewer people hate us."
Laura Kipnis: "The rest of the world sees Bush for exactly who he is, which unfortunately ups the danger level for all of us."
Josh Levin: "If Kerry gets elected, the world will be just a bit less dangerous, and I'm all for baby steps away from mutual assured destruction."
Jill Hunter Pellettieri: "I fear what another four years of Bush's myopic worldview would bring to our country and the world."
Laurie Snyder: "Another four years with Bush-Cheney at the helm is a terrifying prospect."
Seth Stevenson: "The Bush administration frigging TERRIFIES me. . . . They literally make me fear for the fate of the world."
Louisa Herron Thomas: "I wish I didn't fear for the safety and health of myself, my country, and my planet. Under Bush, I do."
Julia Turner: "I think Bush is bad for the country and the world--and for me. He has put my lungs at risk. He has put my reproductive rights at risk. He has put my retirement at risk. He has put my friends at risk, by sending them to Iraq on false pretenses. He has put all of our lives at risk."
It seems clear, then, that when Clinton urged Americans to vote for the candidate of hope not fear, he was endorsing President Bush. But ostensibly he was campaigning for Kerry; this photo depicts Kerry as a teenager excited that he's standing next to a rock star. Oh well, Clinton always had a talent for making people on all sides think he agreed with them.
------------
Also from WSJ's Best of the Web
"Snivel Discourse"
Bill Clinton was campaigning in Philadelphia the other day, and he had this to say: "If one candidate is trying to scare you and the other is trying to get you to think, if one candidate is appealing to your fears and the other one is appealing to your hopes, you better vote for the one who wants you to think and hope."
It's hard to argue with that. So, who is the candidate of hope, and who is the candidate of fear? For an answer, we turn to Slate, the online magazine, which asked each of its staff and contributors to make the case for Kerry (an intern provides the pro-Bush counterpoint). Reading their endorsements, a clear theme emerges:
Paul Berman: "The prospect of tumbling down the stairs for four more years has got me scared out of my wits. Better Kerry, then."
Kris Fritz: "If Bush gets re-elected, I might have to change citizenship and move to another country."
Mickey Kaus: "I think Bush is prosecuting the fight against terrorism in a way that will make us dramatically less safe. . . . Let the world calm down so that fewer people hate us."
Laura Kipnis: "The rest of the world sees Bush for exactly who he is, which unfortunately ups the danger level for all of us."
Josh Levin: "If Kerry gets elected, the world will be just a bit less dangerous, and I'm all for baby steps away from mutual assured destruction."
Jill Hunter Pellettieri: "I fear what another four years of Bush's myopic worldview would bring to our country and the world."
Laurie Snyder: "Another four years with Bush-Cheney at the helm is a terrifying prospect."
Seth Stevenson: "The Bush administration frigging TERRIFIES me. . . . They literally make me fear for the fate of the world."
Louisa Herron Thomas: "I wish I didn't fear for the safety and health of myself, my country, and my planet. Under Bush, I do."
Julia Turner: "I think Bush is bad for the country and the world--and for me. He has put my lungs at risk. He has put my reproductive rights at risk. He has put my retirement at risk. He has put my friends at risk, by sending them to Iraq on false pretenses. He has put all of our lives at risk."
It seems clear, then, that when Clinton urged Americans to vote for the candidate of hope not fear, he was endorsing President Bush. But ostensibly he was campaigning for Kerry; this photo depicts Kerry as a teenager excited that he's standing next to a rock star. Oh well, Clinton always had a talent for making people on all sides think he agreed with them.
Endorsements for John Kerry
Courtesy of WSJ's Best of the Web
compiled by James Taranto
"I know few people enthused about John Kerry. His record is undistinguished, and where it stands out, mainly regrettable. He intuitively believes that if a problem exists, it is the government's job to fix it. He has far too much faith in international institutions, like the corrupt and feckless United Nations, in the tasks of global management. He got the Cold War wrong. He got the first Gulf War wrong. His campaign's constant and excruciating repositioning on the war against Saddam have been disconcerting, to say the least. I completely understand those who look at this man's record and deduce that he is simply unfit to fight a war for our survival. They have an important point--about what we know historically of his character and his judgment when this country has faced dire enemies. His scars from the Vietnam War lasted too long and have gone too deep to believe that he has clearly overcome the syndrome that fears American power rather than understands how to wield it for good."--Andrew Sullivan, endorsing John Kerry, The New Republic, Oct. 26
"I can't remember ever voting for anybody I disliked as much as I do John Kerry, at least not for president, but vote for him I will. I didn't have much use for Al Gore either, but I don't remember any real sense of hostility before punching the hole next to his name. . . . I can't persuade anybody to vote for a candidate for whom I can muster so little enthusiasm, but there must be an awful lot of people out there who are going to cast votes next week for Kerry who are, like me, discouraged by the prospect and needing one of those you-are-not-alone talks."--Mark Brown, endorsing John Kerry, Chicago Sun-Times, Oct. 27
"I remain totally unimpressed by John Kerry. Outside of his opposition to the death penalty, I've never seen him demonstrate any real political courage. His baby steps in the direction of reform liberalism during the 1990s were all followed by hasty retreats. His Senate vote against the 1991 Gulf War demonstrates an instinctive aversion to the use of American force, even when it's clearly justified. Kerry's major policy proposals in this campaign range from implausible to ill-conceived. He has no real idea what to do differently in Iraq. His health-care plan costs too much to be practical and conflicts with his commitment to reducing the deficit. At a personal level, he strikes me as the kind of windbag that can only emerge when a naturally pompous and self-regarding person marinates for two decades inside the U.S. Senate. If elected, Kerry would probably be a mediocre, unloved president on the order of Jimmy Carter."--Jacob Weisberg, endorsing John Kerry, Slate, Oct. 26
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Pathetic, isn't it? Is anybody actually voting FOR the guy? (as opposed to voting merely against Bush)
compiled by James Taranto
"I know few people enthused about John Kerry. His record is undistinguished, and where it stands out, mainly regrettable. He intuitively believes that if a problem exists, it is the government's job to fix it. He has far too much faith in international institutions, like the corrupt and feckless United Nations, in the tasks of global management. He got the Cold War wrong. He got the first Gulf War wrong. His campaign's constant and excruciating repositioning on the war against Saddam have been disconcerting, to say the least. I completely understand those who look at this man's record and deduce that he is simply unfit to fight a war for our survival. They have an important point--about what we know historically of his character and his judgment when this country has faced dire enemies. His scars from the Vietnam War lasted too long and have gone too deep to believe that he has clearly overcome the syndrome that fears American power rather than understands how to wield it for good."--Andrew Sullivan, endorsing John Kerry, The New Republic, Oct. 26
"I can't remember ever voting for anybody I disliked as much as I do John Kerry, at least not for president, but vote for him I will. I didn't have much use for Al Gore either, but I don't remember any real sense of hostility before punching the hole next to his name. . . . I can't persuade anybody to vote for a candidate for whom I can muster so little enthusiasm, but there must be an awful lot of people out there who are going to cast votes next week for Kerry who are, like me, discouraged by the prospect and needing one of those you-are-not-alone talks."--Mark Brown, endorsing John Kerry, Chicago Sun-Times, Oct. 27
"I remain totally unimpressed by John Kerry. Outside of his opposition to the death penalty, I've never seen him demonstrate any real political courage. His baby steps in the direction of reform liberalism during the 1990s were all followed by hasty retreats. His Senate vote against the 1991 Gulf War demonstrates an instinctive aversion to the use of American force, even when it's clearly justified. Kerry's major policy proposals in this campaign range from implausible to ill-conceived. He has no real idea what to do differently in Iraq. His health-care plan costs too much to be practical and conflicts with his commitment to reducing the deficit. At a personal level, he strikes me as the kind of windbag that can only emerge when a naturally pompous and self-regarding person marinates for two decades inside the U.S. Senate. If elected, Kerry would probably be a mediocre, unloved president on the order of Jimmy Carter."--Jacob Weisberg, endorsing John Kerry, Slate, Oct. 26
--------------------
Pathetic, isn't it? Is anybody actually voting FOR the guy? (as opposed to voting merely against Bush)
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Sound of Music Trivia!!
Miriam just handed me a toy ladder from her Little People fire truck and asked me to sing "keen and bwight fowevew," meaning of course that she wants me to sing Edelweiss from the Sound of Music, pretending that the ladder is my guitar. In the past she has also pretended that her popcorn pusher is her guitar. I miss having an imagination like that!
Okay, another 10 points to the person who can tell us which song this line is supposed to be from: "My sun shoo be like a diet." She informs us that it's from the Sound of Music (well, "Kids Movie" anyway), but we can't figure out what it's supposed to mean. Does anyone else speak Toddler?
Okay, another 10 points to the person who can tell us which song this line is supposed to be from: "My sun shoo be like a diet." She informs us that it's from the Sound of Music (well, "Kids Movie" anyway), but we can't figure out what it's supposed to mean. Does anyone else speak Toddler?
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Lookadat Baby Belly!
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Lessons we’ve learned while doing home improvements
Lesson #1 – Home improvement projects ALWAYS take longer than you expect.
This is no surprise to anyone who’s ever attempted to do anything worth doing. There is always something that goes horribly, drastically wrong and sets you back. The Picklesbane was the wallpaper in the bathroom (see “Diary of a Bathroom”). We were supposed to have all painting and decorating projects done by the end of summer – we just finished last week.
Lesson #2 – You’ll hear your spouse using words you didn’t even know they KNEW.
Like when Mr. Pickles stepped on a sharp edge of an old light fixture – in his bare feet – twice. Mrs. Pickles followed him up the stairs with a wet rag, mopping up the trail of blood he left on the carpet. (The gash is STILL healing.)
Lesson #3 – We have come to associate painting with nursery rhymes.
To keep Miriam occupied while we were painting, we would play CD’s of kid music. One day while Mrs. Pickles was painting a wall in the bathroom, she found herself humming things like, “Ollie Mae the Octopus, we love you, yes we dooooo....” and “Down by the bayyyyyyy, where the watermelons growwwwww...” even though there wasn’t anything playing on the stereo.
Lesson #4 – The man who invented curtain rod brackets is probably spending a lot of time in purgatory. Or at least he ought to be.
Ours seem to be designed so that the hook wherein the rod rests obscures the screws holding the bracket to the wall, making the task of putting in screws a job worthy of Sisyphus (i.e. a job seemingly impossible to complete). The only way to get them in was to use a ratchet set and a lot of patience.
Lesson #5 – In tight quarters, surrounded by walls with wet paint, bending over can be quite precarious.
Let’s just say that Mr. Pickles has some shorts he won’t be wearing in public again.
Lesson #6 – As Click & Clack the Car Talk Guys say, every project is an opportunity to buy a new tool.
Well, Mr. Pickles didn’t actually get the power sander he was eyeing (to sand more easily the spackling we applied over the gouges in the sheetrock that appeared while removing the !@#$%^&* wallpaper in the Picklesbane bathroom), but he did get to play with a lot of his big boy toys when doing things like removing the toilet tank, moving the bathroom sink, hanging curtain rods, and removing and replacing the old bathroom hardware. (The most complicated thing Mrs. Pickles got to handle was a Phillips head screwdriver.)
Lesson #7 – When attaching hardware to your bathroom wall, please don’t strip the screws holding them to the hang plate.
Our LOVELY former owners did this, necessitating the use of a hacksaw to remove the towel rings and TP holder. Mr. Pickles got a couple nasty blisters in the process, since he had to scrape his hand against the wall to get the saw close enough.
Lesson #8 – Hacksaws are wonderful tools, but there are times when Mr. Pickles wished he had an acetylene torch for cutting through metal...., or maybe a laser. (Maybe next home improvement project?...)
Lesson #9 – When instructions for installing bathroom hardware tell you that one of the tools you will need is a level, you really WILL need a level.
Line of sight just ain’t quite good enough. (Especially if your floor is crooked.)
Lesson #10 – Any home improvement project will end up costing WAY more than you would ever expect.
I think we’ve pretty much blown our miscellaneous household expenses budget for the rest of the year. And oh yeah, don’t expect any Christmas presents from us either.
This is no surprise to anyone who’s ever attempted to do anything worth doing. There is always something that goes horribly, drastically wrong and sets you back. The Picklesbane was the wallpaper in the bathroom (see “Diary of a Bathroom”). We were supposed to have all painting and decorating projects done by the end of summer – we just finished last week.
Lesson #2 – You’ll hear your spouse using words you didn’t even know they KNEW.
Like when Mr. Pickles stepped on a sharp edge of an old light fixture – in his bare feet – twice. Mrs. Pickles followed him up the stairs with a wet rag, mopping up the trail of blood he left on the carpet. (The gash is STILL healing.)
Lesson #3 – We have come to associate painting with nursery rhymes.
To keep Miriam occupied while we were painting, we would play CD’s of kid music. One day while Mrs. Pickles was painting a wall in the bathroom, she found herself humming things like, “Ollie Mae the Octopus, we love you, yes we dooooo....” and “Down by the bayyyyyyy, where the watermelons growwwwww...” even though there wasn’t anything playing on the stereo.
Lesson #4 – The man who invented curtain rod brackets is probably spending a lot of time in purgatory. Or at least he ought to be.
Ours seem to be designed so that the hook wherein the rod rests obscures the screws holding the bracket to the wall, making the task of putting in screws a job worthy of Sisyphus (i.e. a job seemingly impossible to complete). The only way to get them in was to use a ratchet set and a lot of patience.
Lesson #5 – In tight quarters, surrounded by walls with wet paint, bending over can be quite precarious.
Let’s just say that Mr. Pickles has some shorts he won’t be wearing in public again.
Lesson #6 – As Click & Clack the Car Talk Guys say, every project is an opportunity to buy a new tool.
Well, Mr. Pickles didn’t actually get the power sander he was eyeing (to sand more easily the spackling we applied over the gouges in the sheetrock that appeared while removing the !@#$%^&* wallpaper in the Picklesbane bathroom), but he did get to play with a lot of his big boy toys when doing things like removing the toilet tank, moving the bathroom sink, hanging curtain rods, and removing and replacing the old bathroom hardware. (The most complicated thing Mrs. Pickles got to handle was a Phillips head screwdriver.)
Lesson #7 – When attaching hardware to your bathroom wall, please don’t strip the screws holding them to the hang plate.
Our LOVELY former owners did this, necessitating the use of a hacksaw to remove the towel rings and TP holder. Mr. Pickles got a couple nasty blisters in the process, since he had to scrape his hand against the wall to get the saw close enough.
Lesson #8 – Hacksaws are wonderful tools, but there are times when Mr. Pickles wished he had an acetylene torch for cutting through metal...., or maybe a laser. (Maybe next home improvement project?...)
Lesson #9 – When instructions for installing bathroom hardware tell you that one of the tools you will need is a level, you really WILL need a level.
Line of sight just ain’t quite good enough. (Especially if your floor is crooked.)
Lesson #10 – Any home improvement project will end up costing WAY more than you would ever expect.
I think we’ve pretty much blown our miscellaneous household expenses budget for the rest of the year. And oh yeah, don’t expect any Christmas presents from us either.
The Picklesbane -- before & after
Diary of a Bathroom (aka The Picklesbane)
Week 1 – Aug. 30-Sept. 3
We had just finished the dining room & had our home blessing at the end of August, so we were feeling pretty pumped & ready to finish up the last 2 rooms of the house, the living room and main level half bath, or “powder room”. We spent this week doing prep – removing pictures from the walls, books from the shelves, etc. Walmart was out of a particular dye we needed for the paint, so we decided to tackle the bath first, since that required lots of prep (primarily removing wallpaper). We tried peeling off some wallpaper, thinking it would come off as easily as the paper in the DR, but it clung tenaciously to the wall, the stubborn stuff.
Week 2 – Sept. 6-10
Made a run to Lowe’s (we LOVE Lowe’s – it has something for everyone!) to get THE CLAW™ – a fun, deadly-looking pokey wallpaper-remover thingy that we had hoped to avoid purchasing initially, but oh well. It all seemed so easy:
Step 1 – perforate wallpaper with THE CLAW™.
Step 2 – spray holey wallpaper with blue gooey gel. Let sit for 15 mins, allowing gel to work its adhesive-dissolving magic.
Step 3 – scrape off soggy wallpaper.
Piece of cake!
Right?
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ – WRONGGG!!!!!!!!!!
It turned out more like this:
Step 1 – run THE CLAW™ over the walls (this was actually fun), everywhere you can reach, except for places like corners, near the ceiling, near the floor – basically within 2 inches of any edge (since the pokey things couldn’t reach that far).
Step 2 – spray wallpaper, ceiling, floor, door, self with sticky blue gooey gel. Allow to dry for 15 mins.
Step 3 – attempt to scrape off now-dry and even stickier wallpaper.
Repeat steps 2 (omitting the waiting part) and 3.
Step 4 – while removing wallpaper, remove large sections of underlying sheetrock as well. Note that some patches resemble a cat, a boot, a small continent.....
Step 5 – curse previous owners and whoever hung the wallpaper.
Step 6 – give up in despair and fix your self a martini.
Step 7 – call around to local army surplus stores and see if they sell hand grenades.
Week 3 – Sept. 13-17
Mrs. Pickles opened the door to the bathroom once or twice, sighed, and shut it again. Instantly imagining the worst case scenario, she had visions of spending a fortune having to replace all the sheetrock in the bathroom, causing her to sink into a home-improvement-project-induced depression. She called Walmart to see if they had the dye in yet. No luck. That certainly didn’t help either.
Week 4 – Sept. 20-24
Mr. Pickles decided to have mercy on Mrs. Pickles and pick up where she left off. He clawed the remainder of the walls and removed most of the rest of the paper (and large chunks of sheetrock as well). He also removed the light fixture (dropping & shattering one of the glass light shields in the process – oh well, guess we get to have a new one that matches!), took off the toilet tank, and loosened the sink cabinet so we could get behind/around those areas more easily. We also ran out of blue gel so we had to get another bottle. Mr. Pickles called Walmart to see if they had gotten the dye in yet. They hadn’t. Kmart also sells DutchBoy paint, so Mrs. Pickles made a quick trip to see if she could get the paint they needed there. After her experience with the customer nonservice there she resolved never to shop at Kmart again. (Mr. Pickles said it’s no wonder so many Kmarts are going out of business.)
Week 5 – Sept. 27-Oct. 3 (the first time we worked through a weekend)
Heartened by Mr. Pickles’s progress, Mrs. Pickles’s depression dissipated and she finished up the last few patches – using tools like pliers, tweezers, and a flat head screwdriver in the process (don’t ask). Then she washed the walls to get the rest of the adhesive off (it is REALLY sticky stuff – we’re wondering if they didn’t use some industrial strength stuff since it is a bathroom). On a roll, she decided to give Walmart one last chance. The manager of Walmart was then informed that he just lost a customer forever because she will NEVER shop there again. Mrs. Pickles next went to Lowe’s and had such a positive experience there. They know how to match paint samples! They know how to work their mixing machines! They know how to speak English! Mr. & Mrs. Pickles decided to buy stock in Lowe’s. Aside from paint Mrs. Pickles also bought the economy size tub o’spackling to patch up all the naked sheetrock. Unfortunately, she chose a rainy day to do it, so the spackling took FOREVER to dry. But once it was all sanded, we put on a coat of primer. Hooray!!! Visible progress! The day after, we applied the first coat of paint. Hooray!!! A yellow bathroom, finally! We celebrated by going out to eat (mostly b/c we were both too exhausted even to THINK about cooking dinner). :)
Week 6 – Oct. 4-Oct. 8
Mrs. Pickles applied the second coat of paint, and after a very creative moment during a bout of insomnia one night, designed and started painting the border accent. (As of today, this is still incomplete, but she doesn’t care anymore. Have we mentioned that by this time Mrs. Pickles was 7 1/2 mos. pregnant and getting decidedly slower?) She cleaned up the mess, Mr. Pickles installed the new light fixture, towel ring, & TP holder, and, *sniff* oh joy, we have a pretty, working bathroom again! Oh frabjous day!
We had just finished the dining room & had our home blessing at the end of August, so we were feeling pretty pumped & ready to finish up the last 2 rooms of the house, the living room and main level half bath, or “powder room”. We spent this week doing prep – removing pictures from the walls, books from the shelves, etc. Walmart was out of a particular dye we needed for the paint, so we decided to tackle the bath first, since that required lots of prep (primarily removing wallpaper). We tried peeling off some wallpaper, thinking it would come off as easily as the paper in the DR, but it clung tenaciously to the wall, the stubborn stuff.
Week 2 – Sept. 6-10
Made a run to Lowe’s (we LOVE Lowe’s – it has something for everyone!) to get THE CLAW™ – a fun, deadly-looking pokey wallpaper-remover thingy that we had hoped to avoid purchasing initially, but oh well. It all seemed so easy:
Step 1 – perforate wallpaper with THE CLAW™.
Step 2 – spray holey wallpaper with blue gooey gel. Let sit for 15 mins, allowing gel to work its adhesive-dissolving magic.
Step 3 – scrape off soggy wallpaper.
Piece of cake!
Right?
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ – WRONGGG!!!!!!!!!!
It turned out more like this:
Step 1 – run THE CLAW™ over the walls (this was actually fun), everywhere you can reach, except for places like corners, near the ceiling, near the floor – basically within 2 inches of any edge (since the pokey things couldn’t reach that far).
Step 2 – spray wallpaper, ceiling, floor, door, self with sticky blue gooey gel. Allow to dry for 15 mins.
Step 3 – attempt to scrape off now-dry and even stickier wallpaper.
Repeat steps 2 (omitting the waiting part) and 3.
Step 4 – while removing wallpaper, remove large sections of underlying sheetrock as well. Note that some patches resemble a cat, a boot, a small continent.....
Step 5 – curse previous owners and whoever hung the wallpaper.
Step 6 – give up in despair and fix your self a martini.
Step 7 – call around to local army surplus stores and see if they sell hand grenades.
Week 3 – Sept. 13-17
Mrs. Pickles opened the door to the bathroom once or twice, sighed, and shut it again. Instantly imagining the worst case scenario, she had visions of spending a fortune having to replace all the sheetrock in the bathroom, causing her to sink into a home-improvement-project-induced depression. She called Walmart to see if they had the dye in yet. No luck. That certainly didn’t help either.
Week 4 – Sept. 20-24
Mr. Pickles decided to have mercy on Mrs. Pickles and pick up where she left off. He clawed the remainder of the walls and removed most of the rest of the paper (and large chunks of sheetrock as well). He also removed the light fixture (dropping & shattering one of the glass light shields in the process – oh well, guess we get to have a new one that matches!), took off the toilet tank, and loosened the sink cabinet so we could get behind/around those areas more easily. We also ran out of blue gel so we had to get another bottle. Mr. Pickles called Walmart to see if they had gotten the dye in yet. They hadn’t. Kmart also sells DutchBoy paint, so Mrs. Pickles made a quick trip to see if she could get the paint they needed there. After her experience with the customer nonservice there she resolved never to shop at Kmart again. (Mr. Pickles said it’s no wonder so many Kmarts are going out of business.)
Week 5 – Sept. 27-Oct. 3 (the first time we worked through a weekend)
Heartened by Mr. Pickles’s progress, Mrs. Pickles’s depression dissipated and she finished up the last few patches – using tools like pliers, tweezers, and a flat head screwdriver in the process (don’t ask). Then she washed the walls to get the rest of the adhesive off (it is REALLY sticky stuff – we’re wondering if they didn’t use some industrial strength stuff since it is a bathroom). On a roll, she decided to give Walmart one last chance. The manager of Walmart was then informed that he just lost a customer forever because she will NEVER shop there again. Mrs. Pickles next went to Lowe’s and had such a positive experience there. They know how to match paint samples! They know how to work their mixing machines! They know how to speak English! Mr. & Mrs. Pickles decided to buy stock in Lowe’s. Aside from paint Mrs. Pickles also bought the economy size tub o’spackling to patch up all the naked sheetrock. Unfortunately, she chose a rainy day to do it, so the spackling took FOREVER to dry. But once it was all sanded, we put on a coat of primer. Hooray!!! Visible progress! The day after, we applied the first coat of paint. Hooray!!! A yellow bathroom, finally! We celebrated by going out to eat (mostly b/c we were both too exhausted even to THINK about cooking dinner). :)
Week 6 – Oct. 4-Oct. 8
Mrs. Pickles applied the second coat of paint, and after a very creative moment during a bout of insomnia one night, designed and started painting the border accent. (As of today, this is still incomplete, but she doesn’t care anymore. Have we mentioned that by this time Mrs. Pickles was 7 1/2 mos. pregnant and getting decidedly slower?) She cleaned up the mess, Mr. Pickles installed the new light fixture, towel ring, & TP holder, and, *sniff* oh joy, we have a pretty, working bathroom again! Oh frabjous day!
Friday, October 01, 2004
"Are you my mother?"
Our little girl is full of fun, and intelligence. She loves to sing, dance and read. One of Miriam's current favorite stories is “Are You My Mother?” No doubt Grandma Belland is happy about this, as this is book was (I believe) a gift from her, and she has recounted to me stories of when she read the book to her own daughter years ago.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the general plot, here's a quick summary. (Warning: Spoilers ahead!) Mama bird realizes that her baby bird will soon hatch, and, after hatching, he will undoubtedly be hungry. While away from her nest, Baby bird does hatch, and, to the wonder of the natural universe, he is born with the abilities to walk about and speak in complete sentences. Knowing that he must have a mother, it leaves the nest and searches the surrounding area for her.
The plot thickens as we realize that Baby bird does not know what Mother looks like. Traversing the local area, Baby bird asks a variety of different animals and objects whether or not any of them might be her mother. Some creatures look at Baby bird in surprise, while the objects (such as a boat or the remains of a post-collision Ford Pinto) can't respond at all. This vast array of specimens includes a cow, a chicken, an airplane, and a “"Snort!"”. At the end of the story Baby bird is happily reunited with his mother, joyfully proclaiming, "“You are not a cow. You are not a chicken. You are not an airplane or a Snort!. You are my mother."”
Recently, after chasing Miriam around the house, Greg hid on her. Genevieve would ask, "“Where's daddy?"” as she searched for me. When she finally found me she said, "“Daddy! You are not a tiger. You are not a lion. You are not an elephant. You are not a Kevin (our next door neighbor). You are a Daddy.”
Greg is quite happy that she didn't confuse him for an elephant--as neat as elephants may be. :)
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Have we mentioned...
... the fact that Miriam likes "The Sound of Music"? The other day I noticed she kept scooting up a flight of stairs, backwards, singing something about the sun and going to bed. Then she would lay her head on the top step -- and I realized she was singing Gretel's line from "So Long, Farewell"!!! That poor kid needs to get out more.
In other movie news, Miriam calls the musical "7 Brides for 7 Brothers" the Uncle Dave movie, since the main character Adam has a big bushy beard. :) (btw, she doesn't believe me when I show her earlier pictures of Unca Dave sans beard and try to convince her that's who it is.)
In other movie news, Miriam calls the musical "7 Brides for 7 Brothers" the Uncle Dave movie, since the main character Adam has a big bushy beard. :) (btw, she doesn't believe me when I show her earlier pictures of Unca Dave sans beard and try to convince her that's who it is.)
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Other Miriam News
Today's Headline: 2-year old speaks Latin!
Greg recently overheard our daughter repeating some words that sounded very familiar, but he couldn't quite figure out what she was saying. Then he realized that he was listening for the wrong language. Here's a sampling of what she said:
Greg couldn't believe it until he asked Genevieve to listen to her. She heard the same thing. When Greg said, "She's saying the Agnus Dei," Miriam looked up at him and started singing from the beginning.
In Other News
Miriam continues in her delight of singing songs from "The Sound of Music".
Miriam has picked up several songs. Genevieve mentioned a few of them in other posts. Here's another song she enjoys from "The Sound of Music"
The Goodnight Song ("…so long, farewell, …")
Miriam once hid behind a chair, then popped her head out to the side singing "Cu-koo, cu-koo".
Miriam continues in her delight of singing "TROGDORRRR!!!"
Due to the influence of her Uncle Joe and Aunt Rie, Miriam picked up this name (link soon to be attached if I can figure it out) and the song from which the name comes. The song is actually a humorous heavy metal ditty from something.com, ..., I mean homestarrunner.com. (Those of you familiar with the site will get that joke. Those who aren't, you'll just have to check out the website) For those of you who don't have the stamina for bad heavy metal (I know, as if regular heavy metal wasn't bad enough), the song is about a dragon who goes around and "burninates" (I'm sure that word is copyrighted) the villagers and the countryside.
When Miriam climbs up on Daddy's back, she'll occasionally say, in a gravelly voice, "Trogdorrrr!!". This must her battle cry or something, because she seems to expect him to march off like an ouliphant going to war.
I must admit that Miriam has had a bit of encouragement from her father, as he will occasionally sing it himself out of sheer enjoyment for the song's silliness.
Greg recently overheard our daughter repeating some words that sounded very familiar, but he couldn't quite figure out what she was saying. Then he realized that he was listening for the wrong language. Here's a sampling of what she said:
Agnus Dei
(muttering)
Qui tolis pekata
mundi
Mi-(muttering) nobis
Greg couldn't believe it until he asked Genevieve to listen to her. She heard the same thing. When Greg said, "She's saying the Agnus Dei," Miriam looked up at him and started singing from the beginning.
In Other News
Miriam continues in her delight of singing songs from "The Sound of Music".
Miriam has picked up several songs. Genevieve mentioned a few of them in other posts. Here's another song she enjoys from "The Sound of Music"
The Goodnight Song ("…so long, farewell, …")
Miriam once hid behind a chair, then popped her head out to the side singing "Cu-koo, cu-koo".
Miriam continues in her delight of singing "TROGDORRRR!!!"
Due to the influence of her Uncle Joe and Aunt Rie, Miriam picked up this name (link soon to be attached if I can figure it out) and the song from which the name comes. The song is actually a humorous heavy metal ditty from something.com, ..., I mean homestarrunner.com. (Those of you familiar with the site will get that joke. Those who aren't, you'll just have to check out the website) For those of you who don't have the stamina for bad heavy metal (I know, as if regular heavy metal wasn't bad enough), the song is about a dragon who goes around and "burninates" (I'm sure that word is copyrighted) the villagers and the countryside.
When Miriam climbs up on Daddy's back, she'll occasionally say, in a gravelly voice, "Trogdorrrr!!". This must her battle cry or something, because she seems to expect him to march off like an ouliphant going to war.
I must admit that Miriam has had a bit of encouragement from her father, as he will occasionally sing it himself out of sheer enjoyment for the song's silliness.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Regarding Comments
An Alert Reader just pointed out to me that Blogger will try to get you to sign up before you can post a comment to any of our blogs. Don't DO IT!!! Don't FEEL PRESSURED!!! I think you can just click on the "post anonymously" link and you won't be harrassed to JOIN THE EMPIRE. (Of course, it would be nice if you left a name so we'd know whom to send the hatemail to--- I mean, who was leaving the comment.) :) (Okayyyy, can we tell I've had too much sugar today? I think the in utero Karate Kid can tell too...) If that doesn't work, I guess you'll just have to email us the old-fashioned way!
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Speaking of #3...
Hence the nickname "Peanut" (almost 2 mos.) 
at 20 wks, cuteness from head...
...to toe!
at 20 wks, cuteness from head...
...to toe!
Cuteness Update
I can't believe it's been over 3 months since our last Miriam update! Of course we've forgotten a lot of the hilarious/cute things she's done that we wanted to tell you all about (parental amnesia), but fortunately in a couple moments of foresight we jotted a few things down.
***************
A MUSIC CRITIC OF TENDER YEARS
Miriam has very discriminating musical tastes. One day when I was scanning through various radio stations, every time I paused at a pop station she would frown and say decidedly "No like dat moosic!" She seems to prefer Classical, especially "pano moosic". However, when I came to one with a steady beat, she smiled and started bopping her head. Only two and she's already a teeny bopper!
I'm still not sure what she thinks of my playing the piano at home -- she likes to sit nearby and read books while I'm playing, but every time I come to the end of a song, she cries, "Yay! Mommy all done pano!" Can't tell if that's supposed to be a subtle hint or not...
Miriam has a very good ear for music. I don't know if it's a sign of her superior intelligence or if it's just typical of all kids this age (I know which option her grandparents would choose!) but she catches on to songs and memorizes them very quickly. She's got pretty much all the songs from Sound of Music down pat. Her favorites are Do Re Mi and So Long, Farewell. Do Re Mi: for a while she would sing, "Re, a deer, I call myself" over and over, but now she can sing the whole song from the movie, including the "Do mi mi, mi so so" part. (She knows it even better than Dad!) So Long, Farewell: for a while she would BEG us to sing "in the hole, in the hole" and was very upset when we wouldn't comply. We had NO idea what she could possibly mean. Finally it dawned on me that she was quoting "in the hall" as in, "There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall." NOW she says, "Mommy, sing 'In the clock in the hall and the bells in the steeple too'? Please do dat for me?" (How can I resist?) :) Another popular request is, "Mommy, sing 'I like to stay and taste my first paint'?" (She's inherited her father's gift for making up words to songs that she doesn't really know.) ;)
She must be proud of the fact that she's a determined carnivore (sorry all you vegetarians out there!) -- another of her fav songs to sing at the top of her lungs is, "I've got a friend in meat!" (I wonder if the fact that she sings this the most after watching the Toy Story movies means anything?)
**************
A TWO YEAR OLD'S GRASP OF LANGUAGE
I know there's a tons of things we wanted to add here, but I could only remember a couple -- It's hilarious watching little kids buidling a language from the ground up. They seem to cycle through favorite words or phrases. For a while Miriam's was "do X NOW" as in, "Daddy, sit up NOW!" She gives her opinions very decidedly for so young a person. (10 points to whoever can place that quote!) Another "now" phrase has been "I'm busy wight now," used especially whenever we ask her to do something she doesn't want to do, like pick up her toys. I can't really be annoyed when she does this, because I know that she learned it from me!
**************
da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-
POTTY TRAINING UPDATE!!!!
(those of you with no children may want to skip this part)
Yes, we've started! We had thought about waiting until after #3 was born, but we figured we'd at least like to lay the groundwork beforehand even though she'll probably regress for a while. For the longest time she was resistant to the idea (as in, whenever I asked her if she's like to sit on the pot, she'd scream "NO! SIT! POTTY!!!"). So I didn't push it. However she LOVES reading books about toddlers being potty trained. One especially helpful one mentioned the attraction of Big Girl Pants. So I grabbed that idea and played it up as much as I could. However, Mom learned
Lesson #1) Kids do not respond to promises of abstract future rewards well.
Typical exchange: Mom: "Wouldn't you like to wear big girl pants someday?"
Miriam: "Yeah!"
Mom: "Okay, then let's sit on the potty for a little bit."
Miriam: "NO! SIT! POTTY!!!!!"
So the other day when we were bored we went out and bought some Big Girl Pants. Miriam had lots of fun helping to pick them out -- of course she chose some purple ones. And of course when we got home she wanted to try them all on, so we had NEW exchange:
Miriam: "I wanna wear big girl pants!"
Mom: "Okay, then we need to sit on the potty for a little bit first."
Miriam: "Okay!" [begins stripping off clothes]
Mom [thinking]: "Well, that was painless!"
Mom learned lesson #2: Never underestimate the power of BRIBERY.
I do have to confess that chocolate has also been used as an incentive. (When the choclate runs out I've got a bag of little cheapy party favor toys. Remember how much you used to love those?)
Anyway, we are happy to report that after one initial major accident (which she didn't like the feeling of AT ALL) we've pretty much had a string of successes. We weren't sure how things would go at first -- we didn't know if she could interpret the signals in time or maintain enough control. (I've been especially leery since we have all wall-to-wall carpeting!) But I guess she was ready!
And even though I'm getting a little tired of spending most of my days sitting on the bathroom floor, I am looking forward to not changing a toddler's dirty diapers any more!
So... now we get to start it all over again with #3 in a couple months!
da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-
*************
(FYI: we're counting the current in utero family member as #3. When somebody asks me how many children I have, I like to respond, "Three: one on earth, one in heaven, and one in the oven!") :)
***************
A MUSIC CRITIC OF TENDER YEARS
Miriam has very discriminating musical tastes. One day when I was scanning through various radio stations, every time I paused at a pop station she would frown and say decidedly "No like dat moosic!" She seems to prefer Classical, especially "pano moosic". However, when I came to one with a steady beat, she smiled and started bopping her head. Only two and she's already a teeny bopper!
I'm still not sure what she thinks of my playing the piano at home -- she likes to sit nearby and read books while I'm playing, but every time I come to the end of a song, she cries, "Yay! Mommy all done pano!" Can't tell if that's supposed to be a subtle hint or not...
Miriam has a very good ear for music. I don't know if it's a sign of her superior intelligence or if it's just typical of all kids this age (I know which option her grandparents would choose!) but she catches on to songs and memorizes them very quickly. She's got pretty much all the songs from Sound of Music down pat. Her favorites are Do Re Mi and So Long, Farewell. Do Re Mi: for a while she would sing, "Re, a deer, I call myself" over and over, but now she can sing the whole song from the movie, including the "Do mi mi, mi so so" part. (She knows it even better than Dad!) So Long, Farewell: for a while she would BEG us to sing "in the hole, in the hole" and was very upset when we wouldn't comply. We had NO idea what she could possibly mean. Finally it dawned on me that she was quoting "in the hall" as in, "There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall." NOW she says, "Mommy, sing 'In the clock in the hall and the bells in the steeple too'? Please do dat for me?" (How can I resist?) :) Another popular request is, "Mommy, sing 'I like to stay and taste my first paint'?" (She's inherited her father's gift for making up words to songs that she doesn't really know.) ;)
She must be proud of the fact that she's a determined carnivore (sorry all you vegetarians out there!) -- another of her fav songs to sing at the top of her lungs is, "I've got a friend in meat!" (I wonder if the fact that she sings this the most after watching the Toy Story movies means anything?)
**************
A TWO YEAR OLD'S GRASP OF LANGUAGE
I know there's a tons of things we wanted to add here, but I could only remember a couple -- It's hilarious watching little kids buidling a language from the ground up. They seem to cycle through favorite words or phrases. For a while Miriam's was "do X NOW" as in, "Daddy, sit up NOW!" She gives her opinions very decidedly for so young a person. (10 points to whoever can place that quote!) Another "now" phrase has been "I'm busy wight now," used especially whenever we ask her to do something she doesn't want to do, like pick up her toys. I can't really be annoyed when she does this, because I know that she learned it from me!
**************
da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-
POTTY TRAINING UPDATE!!!!
(those of you with no children may want to skip this part)
Yes, we've started! We had thought about waiting until after #3 was born, but we figured we'd at least like to lay the groundwork beforehand even though she'll probably regress for a while. For the longest time she was resistant to the idea (as in, whenever I asked her if she's like to sit on the pot, she'd scream "NO! SIT! POTTY!!!"). So I didn't push it. However she LOVES reading books about toddlers being potty trained. One especially helpful one mentioned the attraction of Big Girl Pants. So I grabbed that idea and played it up as much as I could. However, Mom learned
Lesson #1) Kids do not respond to promises of abstract future rewards well.
Typical exchange: Mom: "Wouldn't you like to wear big girl pants someday?"
Miriam: "Yeah!"
Mom: "Okay, then let's sit on the potty for a little bit."
Miriam: "NO! SIT! POTTY!!!!!"
So the other day when we were bored we went out and bought some Big Girl Pants. Miriam had lots of fun helping to pick them out -- of course she chose some purple ones. And of course when we got home she wanted to try them all on, so we had NEW exchange:
Miriam: "I wanna wear big girl pants!"
Mom: "Okay, then we need to sit on the potty for a little bit first."
Miriam: "Okay!" [begins stripping off clothes]
Mom [thinking]: "Well, that was painless!"
Mom learned lesson #2: Never underestimate the power of BRIBERY.
I do have to confess that chocolate has also been used as an incentive. (When the choclate runs out I've got a bag of little cheapy party favor toys. Remember how much you used to love those?)
Anyway, we are happy to report that after one initial major accident (which she didn't like the feeling of AT ALL) we've pretty much had a string of successes. We weren't sure how things would go at first -- we didn't know if she could interpret the signals in time or maintain enough control. (I've been especially leery since we have all wall-to-wall carpeting!) But I guess she was ready!
And even though I'm getting a little tired of spending most of my days sitting on the bathroom floor, I am looking forward to not changing a toddler's dirty diapers any more!
So... now we get to start it all over again with #3 in a couple months!
da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-da-na-la-
*************
(FYI: we're counting the current in utero family member as #3. When somebody asks me how many children I have, I like to respond, "Three: one on earth, one in heaven, and one in the oven!") :)
Sunday, September 12, 2004
First Post Ever
Welcome, friends and family to our little cyberhome! We've been planning for ages to set up a website so you could get family updates & pictures from us on a more regular basis, and peruse them at your convenience. We'll see how we like the blog thing.
(FYI the previous posts are repeats of updates we already sent out.)
Thanks for stopping by! God bless you all.
(FYI the previous posts are repeats of updates we already sent out.)
Thanks for stopping by! God bless you all.
Friday, May 28, 2004
Meenum Update
Miriam loves trucks in all varieties -- especially ooh big twucks and bus twucks (somehow busses found their way into the truck category). She will even occasionally say "Meenum LOVE twucks." One of the most exciting and memorable days of her life was when I took her down the street to watch some construction. She was fascinated by the fact that trucks beep whenever they back up. So now she will often walk backwards going, "beep! beep! beep!"
In contrast to getting in touch with her masculine side, whenever we put a dress on her she will hold out the skirt, twirl around, and say, "Look, pwetty!" Proof positive that being girly has got to be in the genes!
The world is plagued by sloth, according to Miriam. Whenever someone is not present, they're therefore probably asleep. Therefore we often hear, "Where Edy is? Edy pobly seeping. Where Desi is? [Desi is the neighbor's big, fluffy, loveable doggie] Desi pobly seeping."
Whenever she wants to show off to a stranger, she reverts to one or more of these three things: "walk-a-bee" (walk like a bear -- walking on hands & feet -- useful skill when wearing a dress); "good jumping" (just jumping up and down); or "whoa! Meenum fall ovah" (very dramatically falling down and flinging her legs in the air). Three tricks sure to charm the pants off any unsuspecting stranger who happens to show interest in her talents. If these don't work, she just shows them her shoes. (a classic trick -- she's been using this one since she could say "shoes")
Speaking of her dramatic side, she is a little superlative girl. Everything is "too" something. It's not just sour, it's TOO sour, or too yucky, or too hot, or too bright. This evening when Greg offered her another bite of dinner she was "TOO all done."
Sneezing is a Big Event. Her sneezes are often accompanied by several fakes, followed by the comment, "Be-dee [bless you] -- Big Sneeze!" One day when she felt a sneeze coming on she dramatically clapped her hands to her face -- only they were about 6 inches too high for her mouth... guess she had to hold those eyeballs in! Greg & I just about fell over laughing.
Latest additions to the Miriamese-English dictionary: bulalala(lalala...)=umbrella. yakin=napkin (she HATES is when her hands get messy. she is SUCH a girl). vamamumum=vitamin. No crankEEEEEEE!!!=I really, really need a nap.
And finally, her version of "Row, row your boat:"
Row, row boat,
down a stweet,
meyly meyly
... yife a dweam!
In contrast to getting in touch with her masculine side, whenever we put a dress on her she will hold out the skirt, twirl around, and say, "Look, pwetty!" Proof positive that being girly has got to be in the genes!
The world is plagued by sloth, according to Miriam. Whenever someone is not present, they're therefore probably asleep. Therefore we often hear, "Where Edy is? Edy pobly seeping. Where Desi is? [Desi is the neighbor's big, fluffy, loveable doggie] Desi pobly seeping."
Whenever she wants to show off to a stranger, she reverts to one or more of these three things: "walk-a-bee" (walk like a bear -- walking on hands & feet -- useful skill when wearing a dress); "good jumping" (just jumping up and down); or "whoa! Meenum fall ovah" (very dramatically falling down and flinging her legs in the air). Three tricks sure to charm the pants off any unsuspecting stranger who happens to show interest in her talents. If these don't work, she just shows them her shoes. (a classic trick -- she's been using this one since she could say "shoes")
Speaking of her dramatic side, she is a little superlative girl. Everything is "too" something. It's not just sour, it's TOO sour, or too yucky, or too hot, or too bright. This evening when Greg offered her another bite of dinner she was "TOO all done."
Sneezing is a Big Event. Her sneezes are often accompanied by several fakes, followed by the comment, "Be-dee [bless you] -- Big Sneeze!" One day when she felt a sneeze coming on she dramatically clapped her hands to her face -- only they were about 6 inches too high for her mouth... guess she had to hold those eyeballs in! Greg & I just about fell over laughing.
Latest additions to the Miriamese-English dictionary: bulalala(lalala...)=umbrella. yakin=napkin (she HATES is when her hands get messy. she is SUCH a girl). vamamumum=vitamin. No crankEEEEEEE!!!=I really, really need a nap.
And finally, her version of "Row, row your boat:"
Row, row boat,
down a stweet,
meyly meyly
... yife a dweam!
Thursday, May 27, 2004
About Baby #2
Gabriella Mary – 12-6-03 to 1-4-04
(due 8-28-04)
Gabriella is our second daughter. For many months we had been looking forward to her life beginning. Before we conceived our first daughter, Miriam Elizabeth, my gynecologist found a lump in my breast. It turned out to be benign, but because of the size the surgeon recommended that I have it removed. I had planned to do so, until my husband and I learned, much to our surprise, that we were expecting our first baby. We were overjoyed at this news, although I was a little concerned about my now three beast lumps. The surgeon congratulated us and assured me that everything would be fine – just give him a call if I was having any trouble breastfeeding, otherwise contact him after the baby was weaned. Fortunately I didn't encounter any problems, although the lumps grew during the pregnancy, which became uncomfortable sometimes. Interestingly though, they shrank dramatically while I was breastfeeding. I had expected to nurse Miriam well into her second year, but because my husband and I wanted to take care of the lumps before our next child, Miriam was weaned a few months after her first birthday. (I can't help but wonder if the lumps would have disappeared on their own altogether if I had simply continued to nurse longer.)
However, the surgery was performed in October 2003 and the healing progressed well, and about six weeks later my husband and I conceived our second child, right around St. Nicholas' Day (Dec. 6). We were beside ourselves with joy. We have received so much joy through Miriam that we are excited to experience it all again through her siblings. Although we had been tracking my fertility and KNEW I was pregnant, I still bought a pregnancy test (which afterwards I was so thankful I did) and used it on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day we joyfully told our families our happy news. We had planned to let all our friends know as soon as we returned from a family trip in January. (Now I regret that decision – I wish we had gone ahead and told everyone before we left.) I welcomed all the pregnancy signs, even the nausea, believe it or not! It meant I had a new life inside of me. We calculated the due date, I made an appointment to see the doctor when I returned, I even planned out my entire maternity wardrobe according to season! :)
Our family tragedy happened while we were on our trip. The day after we arrived at my parents' house, I started spotting in the evening. I flipped out. What made it harder was that we were 3,000 miles away from my doctor. I called him of course, and he advised me to rest, and suggested it was probably just due to stress from traveling. I relaxed and was able to sleep, but awoke in the middle of the night feeling a heavier flow of blood, and at that point just knew we were going to lose our baby. While the rest of the house slept I sat on the floor of the bathroom and mourned -- the face I would never see, the little hands I would never kiss, the tiny precious body I would never be able to hold. I wasn't angry at all – I simply wept for the loss of all the tomorrows with our child. I wasn't angry with God at all – I knew there was some incomprehensible reason He allowed this to happen. I took comfort in the fact that He was mourning with me – that He loved our little one even more than we did. I also thought about our Mother Mary's loss of her Son, and knew she understood and was grieving with me.
When I called my OB's office the next day, the nurse (who came across very cold, at least to me in my distraught state) recommended that we visit the local emergency room. After 4 hours there, all they could tell me was that I was 5 weeks pregnant and I was bleeding a lot. I WAS angry about this – spending 4 hours and $300 on a hospital visit that didn't do me an ounce of good. Well, that isn't entirely true – the nurse did say that often they really can't do anything – if the baby has already died, obviously they can't stop the miscarriage. I guess I went there with the hope that there was some drug or something they could give me, like they do in your last few weeks to stop premature labor. It hadn't occurred to me that my baby might already be dead.
That afternoon I started to feel cramping, and oddly enough along with the sensations I felt a tremendous peace. I think the hardest part for me was not knowing what was going to happen – but once I finally knew we were going to lose our baby, I could accept it and deal with it. Two days later after a morning of cramping I felt the pass of tissue which I knew was the body of our baby. Unfortunately I wasn't at home at the time so I didn't have anything with me to keep the tiny body in, if there was anything of it left. It just would have been nice if I could have at least seen our baby's body, and somehow provided a kind of burial for it. (I've heard of someone who gave their miscarried son's body in a small jar to their parish priest, and he placed it in the coffin of the next funeral he had, so their baby would be buried in holy ground.) As it was, I passed the tissue while in the church bathroom on a Sunday (which incidentally, or should I say Providentially, was the Feast of the Holy Family), which in its own way was a comfort.
I again called my doctor's office to ask about recovery from a miscarriage, and again the same nurse came across as very cold. She didn't seem to acknowledge that I had just suffered a tremendous loss. I was more than a little upset by this, especially since all my previous experiences with the office had been so good. I was also a little put off by my husband's reaction – I thought he would show a little more grief than he did. I've come to realize however that men and women handle grief differently, and I can accept that even though he doesn't show it very much, or even ever talk about it, he mourned our baby's death too, in his own quiet way.
Anyway, I didn't have much time to brood because there was so much going on with my family. I'm so thankful for this and for many other circumstances surrounding our family tragedy. For one thing, I was glad it happened at my parents' house – I don't know what I would have done if my family hadn't been there. My parents were wonderful in taking care of Miriam so I could rest and recover. For another, because of a family wedding there were lots of other family members there, and they were all wonderful -- very sympathetic and supportive. I felt surrounded by people who loved me and mourned with me. I think it was a shock for everyone because nothing like this has ever happened in my mother's family before (although one of my aunts who married into the family did also miscarry their second baby – and then went on to have two healthy children afterwards).
The hardest part for me was not knowing anything about our baby – it happened so early that we had never heard the heartbeat, nor had the opportunity to see the baby in an ultrasound. The only proof I had of our baby's existence, outside of our own grief, was the pregnancy test I had taken Christmas Eve. I had thought of our baby as Gabriel, after Mrs. Santorum's beautiful book, Letters to Gabriel (about a stillborn baby). One evening shortly after we returned home, as I was lying in bed and letting my mind wander, I suddenly had an image of our baby as a smiling little girl with curly brown hair like her Aunt Mary's. I was so thankful for this moment of grace – I felt so much closer to our lost baby, as if I could finally recognize and celebrate her personhood. With my husband's approval I named her Gabriella Mary. Recognizing her personhood in this way really helped the healing process.
Of course after the loss we wanted to get pregnant again right away – I wanted to fill that feeling of emptiness as quickly as possible. I realize now that this was misguided – out of respect for Gabriella I should have allowed myself longer to mourn the loss of her little life. But as it was we waited about 6 weeks, and conceived again. We were of course excited about our third baby, although apprehensive as well. The miscarriage has taught us that we're not in control of life, and this can bring much worry but also much peace.
So far this pregnancy has gone really well – we've passed safely through the more perilous first trimester. We have an ultrasound picture of our little teddy bear, and have heard the healthy little heartbeat. Everything seems to be going well, but of course I still worry. But the most disconcerting thing for me is that I haven't been able to feel as excited about this baby. I can't exactly explain why – but I almost blame this baby for Gabriella's loss, which is ridiculous. I even think to myself that if Gabriella hadn't died, this baby wouldn't even exist. It's been very hard bonding with this baby – and I feel so guilty about it.
One thing that hurts lately is that my husband seems to have forgotten about our lost baby – from comments he's made it seems as if he's forgotten all about her – while every time I think about my current pregnancy, I think about the baby we lost. I don't know if he's still grieving, or if he really has forgotten. I think that this has the dangerous potential of becoming a little wall between us. The fact that I feel uncomfortable talking about it with him is kind of frightening – I realize how selfish I'm being. I forget that my husband suffered a loss as well – I'm not the only one.
I've also been confused about how to answer questions about what number this is – of course it's #3 since we lost #2, but I've felt that that isn't exactly the kind of thing one brings up in polite conversation with total strangers. I now realize that I shouldn't be ashamed to claim Gabriella as a member of our family. I've thought of a cute little answer -- “We have three children – one on earth, one in heaven, and one in the oven!” -- I only hope I have the courage to use it someday.
I still have the pregnancy test I took. To celebrate Gabriella's due date I plan to get a plaque engraved with her name – hopefully one that has a keepsake compartment to keep the test in. I can tell that I really need reminders of her little life to help me continue to heal – it's when I forget or try to push the reality of her existence to the back of my mind that it hurts the more. I find that the more I think about Gabriella, the easier it is to bear her loss, and the less hostile I feel towards our current Peanut. If we could accept Gabriella as a full-fledged member of the family, I know that would go a long way towards helping us heal, as well as welcome other new members of the family with open arms and hearts.
I wrote this to post on a pregnancy loss web board at a time when I was feeling very low. Reading other mothers' stories and then writing my own -- realizing I was part of a sisterhood of other grieving women -- went a long way towards helping me heal. I haven't purchased the plaque yet, but soon we will attend a memorial service sponsored by my OB/GYN's office for parents who have lost children, where we will be given a few mementos to help us honor the life of our lost child. I have also ordered a bracelet made out of peridot, August's birthstone, to remind me of my little girl. If you know anyone who might also be suffering from such a loss, or would just like some more information about any of the resources I've discovered, please let me know. -- 9/18/04
(due 8-28-04)
Gabriella is our second daughter. For many months we had been looking forward to her life beginning. Before we conceived our first daughter, Miriam Elizabeth, my gynecologist found a lump in my breast. It turned out to be benign, but because of the size the surgeon recommended that I have it removed. I had planned to do so, until my husband and I learned, much to our surprise, that we were expecting our first baby. We were overjoyed at this news, although I was a little concerned about my now three beast lumps. The surgeon congratulated us and assured me that everything would be fine – just give him a call if I was having any trouble breastfeeding, otherwise contact him after the baby was weaned. Fortunately I didn't encounter any problems, although the lumps grew during the pregnancy, which became uncomfortable sometimes. Interestingly though, they shrank dramatically while I was breastfeeding. I had expected to nurse Miriam well into her second year, but because my husband and I wanted to take care of the lumps before our next child, Miriam was weaned a few months after her first birthday. (I can't help but wonder if the lumps would have disappeared on their own altogether if I had simply continued to nurse longer.)
However, the surgery was performed in October 2003 and the healing progressed well, and about six weeks later my husband and I conceived our second child, right around St. Nicholas' Day (Dec. 6). We were beside ourselves with joy. We have received so much joy through Miriam that we are excited to experience it all again through her siblings. Although we had been tracking my fertility and KNEW I was pregnant, I still bought a pregnancy test (which afterwards I was so thankful I did) and used it on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day we joyfully told our families our happy news. We had planned to let all our friends know as soon as we returned from a family trip in January. (Now I regret that decision – I wish we had gone ahead and told everyone before we left.) I welcomed all the pregnancy signs, even the nausea, believe it or not! It meant I had a new life inside of me. We calculated the due date, I made an appointment to see the doctor when I returned, I even planned out my entire maternity wardrobe according to season! :)
Our family tragedy happened while we were on our trip. The day after we arrived at my parents' house, I started spotting in the evening. I flipped out. What made it harder was that we were 3,000 miles away from my doctor. I called him of course, and he advised me to rest, and suggested it was probably just due to stress from traveling. I relaxed and was able to sleep, but awoke in the middle of the night feeling a heavier flow of blood, and at that point just knew we were going to lose our baby. While the rest of the house slept I sat on the floor of the bathroom and mourned -- the face I would never see, the little hands I would never kiss, the tiny precious body I would never be able to hold. I wasn't angry at all – I simply wept for the loss of all the tomorrows with our child. I wasn't angry with God at all – I knew there was some incomprehensible reason He allowed this to happen. I took comfort in the fact that He was mourning with me – that He loved our little one even more than we did. I also thought about our Mother Mary's loss of her Son, and knew she understood and was grieving with me.
When I called my OB's office the next day, the nurse (who came across very cold, at least to me in my distraught state) recommended that we visit the local emergency room. After 4 hours there, all they could tell me was that I was 5 weeks pregnant and I was bleeding a lot. I WAS angry about this – spending 4 hours and $300 on a hospital visit that didn't do me an ounce of good. Well, that isn't entirely true – the nurse did say that often they really can't do anything – if the baby has already died, obviously they can't stop the miscarriage. I guess I went there with the hope that there was some drug or something they could give me, like they do in your last few weeks to stop premature labor. It hadn't occurred to me that my baby might already be dead.
That afternoon I started to feel cramping, and oddly enough along with the sensations I felt a tremendous peace. I think the hardest part for me was not knowing what was going to happen – but once I finally knew we were going to lose our baby, I could accept it and deal with it. Two days later after a morning of cramping I felt the pass of tissue which I knew was the body of our baby. Unfortunately I wasn't at home at the time so I didn't have anything with me to keep the tiny body in, if there was anything of it left. It just would have been nice if I could have at least seen our baby's body, and somehow provided a kind of burial for it. (I've heard of someone who gave their miscarried son's body in a small jar to their parish priest, and he placed it in the coffin of the next funeral he had, so their baby would be buried in holy ground.) As it was, I passed the tissue while in the church bathroom on a Sunday (which incidentally, or should I say Providentially, was the Feast of the Holy Family), which in its own way was a comfort.
I again called my doctor's office to ask about recovery from a miscarriage, and again the same nurse came across as very cold. She didn't seem to acknowledge that I had just suffered a tremendous loss. I was more than a little upset by this, especially since all my previous experiences with the office had been so good. I was also a little put off by my husband's reaction – I thought he would show a little more grief than he did. I've come to realize however that men and women handle grief differently, and I can accept that even though he doesn't show it very much, or even ever talk about it, he mourned our baby's death too, in his own quiet way.
Anyway, I didn't have much time to brood because there was so much going on with my family. I'm so thankful for this and for many other circumstances surrounding our family tragedy. For one thing, I was glad it happened at my parents' house – I don't know what I would have done if my family hadn't been there. My parents were wonderful in taking care of Miriam so I could rest and recover. For another, because of a family wedding there were lots of other family members there, and they were all wonderful -- very sympathetic and supportive. I felt surrounded by people who loved me and mourned with me. I think it was a shock for everyone because nothing like this has ever happened in my mother's family before (although one of my aunts who married into the family did also miscarry their second baby – and then went on to have two healthy children afterwards).
The hardest part for me was not knowing anything about our baby – it happened so early that we had never heard the heartbeat, nor had the opportunity to see the baby in an ultrasound. The only proof I had of our baby's existence, outside of our own grief, was the pregnancy test I had taken Christmas Eve. I had thought of our baby as Gabriel, after Mrs. Santorum's beautiful book, Letters to Gabriel (about a stillborn baby). One evening shortly after we returned home, as I was lying in bed and letting my mind wander, I suddenly had an image of our baby as a smiling little girl with curly brown hair like her Aunt Mary's. I was so thankful for this moment of grace – I felt so much closer to our lost baby, as if I could finally recognize and celebrate her personhood. With my husband's approval I named her Gabriella Mary. Recognizing her personhood in this way really helped the healing process.
Of course after the loss we wanted to get pregnant again right away – I wanted to fill that feeling of emptiness as quickly as possible. I realize now that this was misguided – out of respect for Gabriella I should have allowed myself longer to mourn the loss of her little life. But as it was we waited about 6 weeks, and conceived again. We were of course excited about our third baby, although apprehensive as well. The miscarriage has taught us that we're not in control of life, and this can bring much worry but also much peace.
So far this pregnancy has gone really well – we've passed safely through the more perilous first trimester. We have an ultrasound picture of our little teddy bear, and have heard the healthy little heartbeat. Everything seems to be going well, but of course I still worry. But the most disconcerting thing for me is that I haven't been able to feel as excited about this baby. I can't exactly explain why – but I almost blame this baby for Gabriella's loss, which is ridiculous. I even think to myself that if Gabriella hadn't died, this baby wouldn't even exist. It's been very hard bonding with this baby – and I feel so guilty about it.
One thing that hurts lately is that my husband seems to have forgotten about our lost baby – from comments he's made it seems as if he's forgotten all about her – while every time I think about my current pregnancy, I think about the baby we lost. I don't know if he's still grieving, or if he really has forgotten. I think that this has the dangerous potential of becoming a little wall between us. The fact that I feel uncomfortable talking about it with him is kind of frightening – I realize how selfish I'm being. I forget that my husband suffered a loss as well – I'm not the only one.
I've also been confused about how to answer questions about what number this is – of course it's #3 since we lost #2, but I've felt that that isn't exactly the kind of thing one brings up in polite conversation with total strangers. I now realize that I shouldn't be ashamed to claim Gabriella as a member of our family. I've thought of a cute little answer -- “We have three children – one on earth, one in heaven, and one in the oven!” -- I only hope I have the courage to use it someday.
I still have the pregnancy test I took. To celebrate Gabriella's due date I plan to get a plaque engraved with her name – hopefully one that has a keepsake compartment to keep the test in. I can tell that I really need reminders of her little life to help me continue to heal – it's when I forget or try to push the reality of her existence to the back of my mind that it hurts the more. I find that the more I think about Gabriella, the easier it is to bear her loss, and the less hostile I feel towards our current Peanut. If we could accept Gabriella as a full-fledged member of the family, I know that would go a long way towards helping us heal, as well as welcome other new members of the family with open arms and hearts.
I wrote this to post on a pregnancy loss web board at a time when I was feeling very low. Reading other mothers' stories and then writing my own -- realizing I was part of a sisterhood of other grieving women -- went a long way towards helping me heal. I haven't purchased the plaque yet, but soon we will attend a memorial service sponsored by my OB/GYN's office for parents who have lost children, where we will be given a few mementos to help us honor the life of our lost child. I have also ordered a bracelet made out of peridot, August's birthstone, to remind me of my little girl. If you know anyone who might also be suffering from such a loss, or would just like some more information about any of the resources I've discovered, please let me know. -- 9/18/04
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Yet Another Miriam Update
Phil's mucho hilarioso Edy updates have shamed us into finally sending you all some little bits & pieces about daily life with Miriam. --Jenny
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam's favorite song is now "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star:"
Twinko, twinko, lida da,
How wondo awe,
Up above wo high,
Yike a diamond...
Twinko, twinko, lida da,
How wondo awe,
Up above wo high,
Yike a diamond...
Twinko, twinko, lida da,
How wondo awe,
Up above wo high,
Yike a diamond.... [etc. etc. until Mommy can't stand it any more and tries to distract her]
She's actually quite musical and seems to have an idea of pitch. Her favorite times to sing this are during dinner, during diaper changes, while getting her teeth brushed (ever try to brush the teeth of a singing toddler?), while Mommy is slowly rising to consiousness in the morning (I have to admit it's much better than a buzzer alarm), or really for no reason whatsoever. The other day she was yelling it at the top of her voice, as if it were an angry rap song or something. Daddy took the opportunity to head-bang to her rendition. My kingdom for a handy video camera.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
We blame Uncle Phil and Aunt Rachel for this one:
Miriam's favorite book is The Toddler's Potty Book, or something like that -- around here it's merely known as Potty Book. Miriam insists on reading it not only while on the pot, but before EVERY bedtime. She's also taken to reciting lines at dinner, and in public places like the grocery store ("Hooray! I did it! A-la potty! [I used the potty] Mommy so happy. Gampa so happy.") I've gotten to the point where I flatly refuse to read one line. Fortunately Miriam accepts the concept of "later," so often that will satisfy her, and we can safely turn to "Pac-a-po" (The Very Hungry Caterpillar) or "Night Moon" (Goodnight Moon) for some nice bedtime reading. I would videotape her reading it or reciting it, purely for blackmail material when she's a teenager of course, but I'm too afraid she'd clock me when I tried to show it to potential boyfriends. ;)
"Night Moon" is another perennial favorite. Whenever she sees a brush she'll recite that famous line from the book: "...and a comb, and a brush, and a bowl full of mush, and a quiet old lady whispering 'Hush'." Miriam's version: "e comb, e bush, e bo mush, e quiet... mush. e comb, e bush, e bo mush, e quiet...mush. e comb e bush..." etc etc until once again Mommy goes bananas.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
We've been sort of gradually introducing the idea of Mommy having another baby to Miriam. She's still pretty much clueless, although she loves looking at pictures of babies in the womb and of pregnant women -- I explained that their bellies were so big because there was a baby in there. The other day she pointed to my belly and said, "BIG belly! Baby in 'ere." (keep in mind I'm not even 3 months along yet, so there really isn't THAT much of a bluge yet...) Then she pointed to her own stomach and said, "Big belly! Baby in 'ere." Like I said, clueless. We'll give it a few more months.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The bane of Miriam's existence has left the neighborhood! Well, yes, we haven't had to turn on the furnace ("fire-boom") for a couple weeks now, but that's not the main reason for her rejoicing. One of her playmates at our church's moms group had a 14-month-old brother named Philip who was the cutest little troublemaker you've ever seen. Rosy, dimpled cheeks to boot. At one of the playgroups he "caressed" one of her chubby little cheeks -- i.e. pinched it. She screamed, and after that whenever he so much as LOOKED at her she flipped out and started frantically clambering up into Mom's lap. What's hilarious is that she's twice the kid's size and could easily have knocked him over any time she chose, but she's too polite. :) (on a happier note, she did deign to kiss him goodnight once when his parents were babysitting for us.) He and his family moved across the country a couple weeks ago, although occasionally Miriam will still reminisce, saying "No Phibip face!"
Needless to say her experience with this little cherub has made her afraid of all boys everywhere -- an attitude which we of course hope she keeps until she's 23.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
FURTHER BULLETINS AS EVENTS WARRANT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam's favorite song is now "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star:"
Twinko, twinko, lida da,
How wondo awe,
Up above wo high,
Yike a diamond...
Twinko, twinko, lida da,
How wondo awe,
Up above wo high,
Yike a diamond...
Twinko, twinko, lida da,
How wondo awe,
Up above wo high,
Yike a diamond.... [etc. etc. until Mommy can't stand it any more and tries to distract her]
She's actually quite musical and seems to have an idea of pitch. Her favorite times to sing this are during dinner, during diaper changes, while getting her teeth brushed (ever try to brush the teeth of a singing toddler?), while Mommy is slowly rising to consiousness in the morning (I have to admit it's much better than a buzzer alarm), or really for no reason whatsoever. The other day she was yelling it at the top of her voice, as if it were an angry rap song or something. Daddy took the opportunity to head-bang to her rendition. My kingdom for a handy video camera.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
We blame Uncle Phil and Aunt Rachel for this one:
Miriam's favorite book is The Toddler's Potty Book, or something like that -- around here it's merely known as Potty Book. Miriam insists on reading it not only while on the pot, but before EVERY bedtime. She's also taken to reciting lines at dinner, and in public places like the grocery store ("Hooray! I did it! A-la potty! [I used the potty] Mommy so happy. Gampa so happy.") I've gotten to the point where I flatly refuse to read one line. Fortunately Miriam accepts the concept of "later," so often that will satisfy her, and we can safely turn to "Pac-a-po" (The Very Hungry Caterpillar) or "Night Moon" (Goodnight Moon) for some nice bedtime reading. I would videotape her reading it or reciting it, purely for blackmail material when she's a teenager of course, but I'm too afraid she'd clock me when I tried to show it to potential boyfriends. ;)
"Night Moon" is another perennial favorite. Whenever she sees a brush she'll recite that famous line from the book: "...and a comb, and a brush, and a bowl full of mush, and a quiet old lady whispering 'Hush'." Miriam's version: "e comb, e bush, e bo mush, e quiet... mush. e comb, e bush, e bo mush, e quiet...mush. e comb e bush..." etc etc until once again Mommy goes bananas.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
We've been sort of gradually introducing the idea of Mommy having another baby to Miriam. She's still pretty much clueless, although she loves looking at pictures of babies in the womb and of pregnant women -- I explained that their bellies were so big because there was a baby in there. The other day she pointed to my belly and said, "BIG belly! Baby in 'ere." (keep in mind I'm not even 3 months along yet, so there really isn't THAT much of a bluge yet...) Then she pointed to her own stomach and said, "Big belly! Baby in 'ere." Like I said, clueless. We'll give it a few more months.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The bane of Miriam's existence has left the neighborhood! Well, yes, we haven't had to turn on the furnace ("fire-boom") for a couple weeks now, but that's not the main reason for her rejoicing. One of her playmates at our church's moms group had a 14-month-old brother named Philip who was the cutest little troublemaker you've ever seen. Rosy, dimpled cheeks to boot. At one of the playgroups he "caressed" one of her chubby little cheeks -- i.e. pinched it. She screamed, and after that whenever he so much as LOOKED at her she flipped out and started frantically clambering up into Mom's lap. What's hilarious is that she's twice the kid's size and could easily have knocked him over any time she chose, but she's too polite. :) (on a happier note, she did deign to kiss him goodnight once when his parents were babysitting for us.) He and his family moved across the country a couple weeks ago, although occasionally Miriam will still reminisce, saying "No Phibip face!"
Needless to say her experience with this little cherub has made her afraid of all boys everywhere -- an attitude which we of course hope she keeps until she's 23.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
FURTHER BULLETINS AS EVENTS WARRANT
Slightly Belated Miriam Update
From the Lunch Hour of Gregory P. Erkens, Esq.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam's godfather is Doug Branch. For the longest time, Miriam just
couldn't wrap her tongue around "Godfather Doug." But now she calls
him "Dougfather".
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Occasionally, Miriam will yank one of our books of the shelf, and read (usually sing) it aloud. Me thinks our daughter has been reading Luke's gospel (again?)--specifically, Luke 11: 5-12--for she will perpetually ask for the same thing over and over again until she gets what she wants. She has mastered that broken record technique.
Sometimes, she will look at us with those desperate, pleading eyes ("Bambi eyes" some might call them) and ask for something repeatedly, such as her "fuzzy" (aka, her favorite purple fuzzy jacket, now 2 sizes too small). After we tell her that it's too warm outside, she responds by saying, somewhat dejectedly, "Ooo-kay."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
We went to the zoo with Phil, Rachael and Edy a couple weeks back. We viewed many wonders of God's creation, and it was a grand day out. We hoped for Miriam to take a nap on the drive to DC. Though she slouched in her carseat during the entire trip, she resisted the sandman with every ounce of her stubborn strength (and there can be quite a bit there sometimes). Consequently, she spent part of the zoo trip with a spacey look on her face.
After seeing some giant kitties (jaguars), a horsy (zebra), and the pandas and elephants--all of which enthralled the girls--we ventured over to the primate house. I couldn't believe it, there was Homer Simpson! Well, that would have been something to see(!), and it might have scared her a little less than the large, black, swinging apes in their Plexiglas pens. There were several animals that caused fear--including the apes, there were the hippos too. I sometimes asked her if she wanted to get a closer look. After thinking about it, she vigorously shook her head saying, "Nnnooooooo!" Everything is a bigger deal when you're tired--especially bigger animals.
Orangutans were a hit, and she didn't want to leave them. One of them pulled a white sheet over its head and walked around. This scene prompted Miriam to say "See-ty" (silly)--one of her common adjectives for Dad. (I don't know why :p )
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam--in the tradition of almost all women everywhere--is a huge fan of chocolate. On Easter Sunday, we had a bowl of Easter M&Ms on the table. It didn't matter that the color differed. They were the proper size and shape for M&Ms, and she seems to intuitively know when an item contains chocolate. She certainly takes after her mother in the joy of chocolate. :)
Miriam would simply sit up there on the table and eat them. We figured that it was Easter, and it should be a special day for her even if she didn't quite know why it was special. Eating more chocolate in a day than she had eaten during the past 3 months combined is certainly a sign of a special day.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam is an excellent dancer. When nobody but Mom and Dad are around (or when she's finally comfortable with a certain person), Miriam likes to skip around and dance and sing. Here is a sample of one of her songs--BO, DEE, DOH, BE, DA, RE, LA, FA, MEEEEE, DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! Yes, those letters are capitalized for a reason. She'll even spread out her arms on the last note as if it is the grand finale (!). We have photographic evidence of her doing this. One Sunday while waiting in the car with Daddy while Mommy was warming up with the church choir, she sang a song about Mommy, Jesus, and chocolate. Very strange. Very amusing. :)
Consequently, Miriam has decided that she's heading to Broadway when she turns five. The quality of her cuteness, while greatly appreciated by her parents, does not pull in the kind of money that she likes (which is $0). Consequently, her desire to have a maid who will give her everything she wants to eat and her other desire to sit upon a mountain of chocolate before she messily devours it are consistently frustrated.
After some further thinking on the subject, Miriam may just get a PO Box in New York City, since that's all that's usually necessary to get a Broadway part. That way she can still live at home off of her parents. After all, living in NYC is VERY expensive, and all of those child labor laws get in the way of a hard-working five year-old making an honest buck. Now, if she lived in China ...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam's godfather is Doug Branch. For the longest time, Miriam just
couldn't wrap her tongue around "Godfather Doug." But now she calls
him "Dougfather".
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Occasionally, Miriam will yank one of our books of the shelf, and read (usually sing) it aloud. Me thinks our daughter has been reading Luke's gospel (again?)--specifically, Luke 11: 5-12--for she will perpetually ask for the same thing over and over again until she gets what she wants. She has mastered that broken record technique.
Sometimes, she will look at us with those desperate, pleading eyes ("Bambi eyes" some might call them) and ask for something repeatedly, such as her "fuzzy" (aka, her favorite purple fuzzy jacket, now 2 sizes too small). After we tell her that it's too warm outside, she responds by saying, somewhat dejectedly, "Ooo-kay."
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
We went to the zoo with Phil, Rachael and Edy a couple weeks back. We viewed many wonders of God's creation, and it was a grand day out. We hoped for Miriam to take a nap on the drive to DC. Though she slouched in her carseat during the entire trip, she resisted the sandman with every ounce of her stubborn strength (and there can be quite a bit there sometimes). Consequently, she spent part of the zoo trip with a spacey look on her face.
After seeing some giant kitties (jaguars), a horsy (zebra), and the pandas and elephants--all of which enthralled the girls--we ventured over to the primate house. I couldn't believe it, there was Homer Simpson! Well, that would have been something to see(!), and it might have scared her a little less than the large, black, swinging apes in their Plexiglas pens. There were several animals that caused fear--including the apes, there were the hippos too. I sometimes asked her if she wanted to get a closer look. After thinking about it, she vigorously shook her head saying, "Nnnooooooo!" Everything is a bigger deal when you're tired--especially bigger animals.
Orangutans were a hit, and she didn't want to leave them. One of them pulled a white sheet over its head and walked around. This scene prompted Miriam to say "See-ty" (silly)--one of her common adjectives for Dad. (I don't know why :p )
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam--in the tradition of almost all women everywhere--is a huge fan of chocolate. On Easter Sunday, we had a bowl of Easter M&Ms on the table. It didn't matter that the color differed. They were the proper size and shape for M&Ms, and she seems to intuitively know when an item contains chocolate. She certainly takes after her mother in the joy of chocolate. :)
Miriam would simply sit up there on the table and eat them. We figured that it was Easter, and it should be a special day for her even if she didn't quite know why it was special. Eating more chocolate in a day than she had eaten during the past 3 months combined is certainly a sign of a special day.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Miriam is an excellent dancer. When nobody but Mom and Dad are around (or when she's finally comfortable with a certain person), Miriam likes to skip around and dance and sing. Here is a sample of one of her songs--BO, DEE, DOH, BE, DA, RE, LA, FA, MEEEEE, DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! Yes, those letters are capitalized for a reason. She'll even spread out her arms on the last note as if it is the grand finale (!). We have photographic evidence of her doing this. One Sunday while waiting in the car with Daddy while Mommy was warming up with the church choir, she sang a song about Mommy, Jesus, and chocolate. Very strange. Very amusing. :)
Consequently, Miriam has decided that she's heading to Broadway when she turns five. The quality of her cuteness, while greatly appreciated by her parents, does not pull in the kind of money that she likes (which is $0). Consequently, her desire to have a maid who will give her everything she wants to eat and her other desire to sit upon a mountain of chocolate before she messily devours it are consistently frustrated.
After some further thinking on the subject, Miriam may just get a PO Box in New York City, since that's all that's usually necessary to get a Broadway part. That way she can still live at home off of her parents. After all, living in NYC is VERY expensive, and all of those child labor laws get in the way of a hard-working five year-old making an honest buck. Now, if she lived in China ...
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