Thanksgiving 2009 in a brief summary of bulleted words:
local
delicious
preggers
gluttonous
beautiful
Enjoy a few pictures of our holiday...
Friday, November 27, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Crib Talk
Nick assembled the crib last night. Technically, I COULD say that WE assembled the crib last night, but he did the majority of thinking and attaching. I just stood there and held things up, lowered when he needed things lowered, and so on and so forth. Sometimes, I think that that job sucks even more than reading the instructions and doing the physical labor.
But, given that I can barely bend over to pick up a sock, I left the labor to the father-to-be.
Along with the bouncer, swing, play palace, and bringing in the bassinette, stroller, and car seat, Nick has been a MACHINE with getting things ready for Isaiah. As for me, I continue to poke my index finger into his shoulder blade at night and whisper, "Don't forget that we still need to ____, and ______, and buy ______, and pick-up ______, and figure out _____. Oh, and we still haven't decided how we're going to handle ______ or who's going to ______ ...
Nick's response is always the same: a very sleepy arm throws itself around my very large belly and he mutters, "Ok, babe, we'll take care of it this weekend."
And then he talks to his son, "Isaiah, take care of your mom. She's freaking out."
But, given that I can barely bend over to pick up a sock, I left the labor to the father-to-be.
Along with the bouncer, swing, play palace, and bringing in the bassinette, stroller, and car seat, Nick has been a MACHINE with getting things ready for Isaiah. As for me, I continue to poke my index finger into his shoulder blade at night and whisper, "Don't forget that we still need to ____, and ______, and buy ______, and pick-up ______, and figure out _____. Oh, and we still haven't decided how we're going to handle ______ or who's going to ______ ...
Nick's response is always the same: a very sleepy arm throws itself around my very large belly and he mutters, "Ok, babe, we'll take care of it this weekend."
And then he talks to his son, "Isaiah, take care of your mom. She's freaking out."
Monday, November 9, 2009
Barn-ilicious
A few months ago, Nick got a storage box from home. It was heading toward the trash and we salvaged it, thinking we could use it for Isaiah's things. Nick didn't tell me right away what the storage box looked like. He just said, "Just come see it."
It was a barn.
Oh.
Well, that's kinda cute, I guess.
We took it home and put some baby clothes in it, hand me downs from Isaiah's cousins who quickly outgrew of barely used some of the outfits.
I forgot about the barn the past few months.
Then, last night, Nick and I headed to a good-bye party for one of my co-workers who was moving to Boston with her husband and 7 month old son. It was a special party. You weren't allowed to bring gifts and you had to take a "treasure" with you. Meaning, the things they couldn't take to Boston were up for grabs. There were some pretty nice items including deck furniture, shelves, books, trinkets, frames, unused clothes and jewelry...I was busy sorting through the frames and ransacking the unopened spice bottles when Nick calls me across the room, "Leese! Do you think that's up for grabs?" He's pointing near my feet.
I look down and don't see anything.
"Where? Which one are you talking about?"
He points again, "That one!"
I look and see some sort of vintage, Fisher Price box that I thought was garbage.
Oh, this thing? I ask.
"Yes!" Nick was so excited, I honestly didn't know how to react to his excitement over this dirty box.
But it was no box.
It was a BARN.
He explains as his eyeballs roll over it, "We had one just like this when we were kids!"
Oh. Ok. So you want it, then?
YES.
So, we bring it home and I say that it's an interesting toy. The barn doors open to a Moooooooooooooooo sound. It came complete with animals and tools to play with.
As we are leaving, Nick gathers bags of treasures - books, spices, a baby swing, a frame, and countless little things I can cook with.
But he's most excited about the barn.
I wondered what was up with the barn theme. Then I heard him introduce himself to someone at the party, "I didn't grow up on a farm, but I'm definitely a farm boy."
Well, that explains it.
It was a barn.
Oh.
Well, that's kinda cute, I guess.
We took it home and put some baby clothes in it, hand me downs from Isaiah's cousins who quickly outgrew of barely used some of the outfits.
I forgot about the barn the past few months.
Then, last night, Nick and I headed to a good-bye party for one of my co-workers who was moving to Boston with her husband and 7 month old son. It was a special party. You weren't allowed to bring gifts and you had to take a "treasure" with you. Meaning, the things they couldn't take to Boston were up for grabs. There were some pretty nice items including deck furniture, shelves, books, trinkets, frames, unused clothes and jewelry...I was busy sorting through the frames and ransacking the unopened spice bottles when Nick calls me across the room, "Leese! Do you think that's up for grabs?" He's pointing near my feet.
I look down and don't see anything.
"Where? Which one are you talking about?"
He points again, "That one!"
I look and see some sort of vintage, Fisher Price box that I thought was garbage.
Oh, this thing? I ask.
"Yes!" Nick was so excited, I honestly didn't know how to react to his excitement over this dirty box.
But it was no box.
It was a BARN.
He explains as his eyeballs roll over it, "We had one just like this when we were kids!"
Oh. Ok. So you want it, then?
YES.
So, we bring it home and I say that it's an interesting toy. The barn doors open to a Moooooooooooooooo sound. It came complete with animals and tools to play with.
As we are leaving, Nick gathers bags of treasures - books, spices, a baby swing, a frame, and countless little things I can cook with.
But he's most excited about the barn.
I wondered what was up with the barn theme. Then I heard him introduce himself to someone at the party, "I didn't grow up on a farm, but I'm definitely a farm boy."
Well, that explains it.
Word of the Week: SCARCE
Over the weekend, Nick and I met up with our good buds, Christina and Brian. We were dining together, scrunched in a slightly too small booth, when the subject of blogging came up. Brian, not beating around the bush says, "Dude, the blog's been scarce lately."
I know.
I say that I'm trying not to make everything about pregnancy, but, let's get real. If you had a ballooning soccer ball tucked underneath your epidermis, you'd be pretty obsessed with that topic, too.
Brian suggests, "Give yourself topics."
Mhm. That's an idea. A bit homeworkey in task, but still a good idea.
So, the topic of this post is SCARCE because that is what I am feeling I have lately, in terms of time. I do not have enough hours in the day. I do not have enough water in my system. I definitely do not have enough clarity in my brain. I do not have enough patience for anything.
SCARCE.
But, what IS in abundance are all the important things: blessings, family, peers, health...all the most important things are in place.
So, to combat the scarcity of my blog posts, I will try and be more intentional about small updates.
Here are some to kick us off:
Last week was a huge pre-parenting week for me and Nick.
On Tuesday we attended NIGHT WITH THE ANESTHESIOLOGIST in which we gained more information about what kind of pain meds I will have, should I choose to go that route (I still haven't decided). Then we got a tour of the birthing facility where Isaiah will emerge from. That was pretty awesome because we got a glimpse of the nursery where we saw a human who had been in the world for approximately 20 minutes.
Oh, the raging hormones.
I nearly started bawling when I saw all the little babies. But I didn't feel embarassed because even Nick was transfixed on the little limbs of a newborn. The raw reality of its new skin, tiny little toes, and perfect little formations set in and we were just in awe.
Then on Thursday we had a class, "Breastfeeding 101." This was an interesting night to say the least. It started at 6:30pm and went till about 9:30pm. Nick, uncharacteristically, did not thoroughly read the information and thought the class was over at 7:30pm. When he realized we'd be in the dimly lit room with uncomfortable chairs for 3 hours, his eyelids became extremely heavy and he suddenly looked tired.
"You better perk up, man," I told him. "We're in this boobfeeding class for a while and we're going to miss Grey's Anatomy tonight. Deal."
Nick headed straight for the soda machine and it dropped him a bottle of salvation: pepsi.
Ah, yes, caffeine. How I miss it.
There were about 8 -9 couples in there and I placed Nick in the #1 spot for most attentive looking. There was one guy there, I swear, who drummed his fingernails on the table, slouched in his chair, and stared into outspace the entire course.
Good information. Definitely worth $30.
And then came our doctor's appointment.
I was at about 32 weeks by the time we had our appointment, but my measurements were indicated 35. I was a bit startled, but my doctor didn't seem to be worried, "we'll just keep our eye on him. We'll have an ultrasound at your next appointment and then see what's going on. Maybe it's his position. Maybe he's just growing big."
Mhm. Big baby.
My mind was whirling.
As soon as I heard the number 35, and knowing that full term is considered 36 weeks, three words suddenly echoed in my head. Involuntarily. It was like a small version of myself was stuck in my head, talking to me, advising me, shouting advice from a mountaintop and an echo reverberated in my ears: WE'RE NOT READY!
Suddenly, a visual of the half finished nursery, unlaundered new clothes and sheets, and the fact we still need to pick up a few odds and ends for Isaiah became glaringly real.
We're not ready.
As I was going through my private mental meltdown, I remember that Nick's ultrabusy weekend was commencing and we would not be able to run errands because he needed the car, and, being a one car family, I was not about to walk or bike it to the nearest Babies R Us.
So, last night, Sunday evening, when Nick returned to me exhausted from his weekend of a massive service project and an overnight retreat he was helping with, I decided to hold off on my drill sargent speech where I was going to list the things that needed to be taken cared of immediately.
Instead, I made a warm, lovely dinner and tucked him into the couch while he lightly dozed on and off watching some televised lecture from a Harvard professor. (How many people relax this way?) And then we both climbed into bed, exhausted for very different reasons, and turned on football to end our weekend.
After a good night's rest, my eyes flipped open this morning, ready to go into hypergear.
If you haven't heard the news or don't get the overall message of this blog post, here's the summary:
ISAIAH F. BORCHERS is on his way.
Like, soon.
I know.
I say that I'm trying not to make everything about pregnancy, but, let's get real. If you had a ballooning soccer ball tucked underneath your epidermis, you'd be pretty obsessed with that topic, too.
Brian suggests, "Give yourself topics."
Mhm. That's an idea. A bit homeworkey in task, but still a good idea.
So, the topic of this post is SCARCE because that is what I am feeling I have lately, in terms of time. I do not have enough hours in the day. I do not have enough water in my system. I definitely do not have enough clarity in my brain. I do not have enough patience for anything.
SCARCE.
But, what IS in abundance are all the important things: blessings, family, peers, health...all the most important things are in place.
So, to combat the scarcity of my blog posts, I will try and be more intentional about small updates.
Here are some to kick us off:
Last week was a huge pre-parenting week for me and Nick.
On Tuesday we attended NIGHT WITH THE ANESTHESIOLOGIST in which we gained more information about what kind of pain meds I will have, should I choose to go that route (I still haven't decided). Then we got a tour of the birthing facility where Isaiah will emerge from. That was pretty awesome because we got a glimpse of the nursery where we saw a human who had been in the world for approximately 20 minutes.
Oh, the raging hormones.
I nearly started bawling when I saw all the little babies. But I didn't feel embarassed because even Nick was transfixed on the little limbs of a newborn. The raw reality of its new skin, tiny little toes, and perfect little formations set in and we were just in awe.
Then on Thursday we had a class, "Breastfeeding 101." This was an interesting night to say the least. It started at 6:30pm and went till about 9:30pm. Nick, uncharacteristically, did not thoroughly read the information and thought the class was over at 7:30pm. When he realized we'd be in the dimly lit room with uncomfortable chairs for 3 hours, his eyelids became extremely heavy and he suddenly looked tired.
"You better perk up, man," I told him. "We're in this boobfeeding class for a while and we're going to miss Grey's Anatomy tonight. Deal."
Nick headed straight for the soda machine and it dropped him a bottle of salvation: pepsi.
Ah, yes, caffeine. How I miss it.
There were about 8 -9 couples in there and I placed Nick in the #1 spot for most attentive looking. There was one guy there, I swear, who drummed his fingernails on the table, slouched in his chair, and stared into outspace the entire course.
Good information. Definitely worth $30.
And then came our doctor's appointment.
I was at about 32 weeks by the time we had our appointment, but my measurements were indicated 35. I was a bit startled, but my doctor didn't seem to be worried, "we'll just keep our eye on him. We'll have an ultrasound at your next appointment and then see what's going on. Maybe it's his position. Maybe he's just growing big."
Mhm. Big baby.
My mind was whirling.
As soon as I heard the number 35, and knowing that full term is considered 36 weeks, three words suddenly echoed in my head. Involuntarily. It was like a small version of myself was stuck in my head, talking to me, advising me, shouting advice from a mountaintop and an echo reverberated in my ears: WE'RE NOT READY!
Suddenly, a visual of the half finished nursery, unlaundered new clothes and sheets, and the fact we still need to pick up a few odds and ends for Isaiah became glaringly real.
We're not ready.
As I was going through my private mental meltdown, I remember that Nick's ultrabusy weekend was commencing and we would not be able to run errands because he needed the car, and, being a one car family, I was not about to walk or bike it to the nearest Babies R Us.
So, last night, Sunday evening, when Nick returned to me exhausted from his weekend of a massive service project and an overnight retreat he was helping with, I decided to hold off on my drill sargent speech where I was going to list the things that needed to be taken cared of immediately.
Instead, I made a warm, lovely dinner and tucked him into the couch while he lightly dozed on and off watching some televised lecture from a Harvard professor. (How many people relax this way?) And then we both climbed into bed, exhausted for very different reasons, and turned on football to end our weekend.
After a good night's rest, my eyes flipped open this morning, ready to go into hypergear.
If you haven't heard the news or don't get the overall message of this blog post, here's the summary:
ISAIAH F. BORCHERS is on his way.
Like, soon.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Positive News
Nick is in charge of a nice service project that got a short blurb in the paper!
Click here for the link!
Click here for the link!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
