Zesty

Grr!

2011-03-04T12:24:00.000-06:00

I'm annoyed. Maybe it's my limited knowledge of all things technical (especially computers), or maybe it's that Blogger has a plan to force me to stop adding content to Zesty, but either way, I'm close to throwing in the towel again.

Why can't I get my format kinks ironed out? This design/posting process used to be quite simple, in my opinion.

So, anyone have any quick and easy "You need to do this" advice to share?

And Baby Makes Four

2010-12-30T12:13:00.003-06:00

It's been such a joy having a baby in the house again! There are other emotions, of course, such as exhaustion, frustration, and the occasional suffocating feeling of being overwhelmed. (By the way, I cannot imagine what it must be like to have multiple babies at once. The people who manage this feat have my utmost respect.)

Gannon completes our little family. After the complications we had attempting to expand to a household of four, we're counting our blessings, surely. Our newest member came with a few quirks, though, and they've really kept me on my toes!

First, this little guy was face up during a majority of my labor. That, combined with the fact that we knew he was going to be a hefty little guy, made us realize that a natural birth may not be possible. After some shoving and coaxing by my midwife, and my body's innate ability to correct the issue, Gannon finally turned as he descended down the birth canal (thankfully!).

After we were discharged from the hospital, we struggled mightily with breastfeeding. Avery had been a champion at nursing, so these feeding problems with Gannon were stressful and completely foreign to me. After approximately eight days of attempts - some successful, most not - I remembered a segment I had read in one of the breastfeeding books the hospital had given us. It turns out Gannon was tongue tied! I spoke to the pediatrician on call (Who assured me that even if Gannon was tongue tied, she had only recommended that three cases in her 27 years of practice be surgically fixed, therefore she doubted the problem with nursing was due to his tongue. She told me that most likely our problems were because of poor nursing positions and all we would require was more education on proper latching techniques.). Monday morning I called to set up an appointment with this physician (Not because I liked her, mind you, but because I knew our problems were going to prove her over-the-phone diagnosis wrong. And I love a chance to prove I'm right!).

So, to make a really long story slightly shorter, we saw the physician later that week. She recommended we see one of their lactation consultants to have a latch evaluation, and by Thursday we were seeing an ENT specialist to have a lingual frenectomy.

My breast pump and I are no longer best friends, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me. And if the rate of growth of this boy is any indication, we're definitely doing a good job. My two-month-old snuggle bug is currently wearing 6 month size clothing, and I'm lucky if I get two wearings out of any given outfit. Thank goodness for second-hand stores that take gently used children's clothing!

Now I can say that the only challenges we're dealing with in the Weatherby household regularly are that the dog decides he needs to go out at the exact moment that I sit down to feed Gannon, Avery has to have a refill of juice or milk while I'm changing a diaper or bathing his brother, and Gannon decides to fuss while I'm playing with the dog and/or Avery. I've also become much more respectful of single parents; how on earth does one take an infant and a preschooler out on their own? The person who invented the shopping carts with the plastic seats geared for older kids have my complete admiration. And although I vowed I'd never use one, I found myself breaking down and purchasing one of those backpack-leash doodads to keep my misbehaving older child next to me while we're out and about without Matt. I discovered I'd rather deal with the incredulous looks and embarassment at using it than abandoning my infant so I can go chase after his brother.

These little hurdles make me sigh with contentment (and exhaustion) at the end of the day, though. I am a happy woman, indeed.

So Much to Say!

2010-12-08T23:55:00.007-06:00

My goodness, it's been a while, hasn't it? I have a number of posts planned just to update you on all that's changed in recent months. First, though, I have to tell you about my newest love.

His name is Gannon Russell. He came into this world kicking and screaming on October 21st of this year. I'll spare you from the labor and delivery play-by-play, but let's just say it was miraculously short (painful as all hell, of course, but short!). After twelve minutes of pushing, out came this nine pound, seven ounce bundle.

Thankfully, his older brother decided a couple months before his arrival that it would be ok to have a little brother (Phew!). Avery has been excited and helpful, sometimes bordering on overzealous. I've decided, however, that I'd much rather have that than deal with an older son who despises his sibling.

I've got loads more to say about this little guy and the chaos he's added to our little family, but for now, I think I'll let some photos do the talking.

The Sky Over Fargo/Moorhead on 7/5/10

2010-07-07T13:08:00.004-05:00

Did you see it for yourself? It was gorgeous! And for once I thought to grab my camera. Just in case you missed it, let me fill you in:

Still nothing creative or juicy to report. Maybe if I remember to strap my camera around my neck more frequently I'll become a little more inspired. We'll see.

A Trial Separation

2010-06-14T13:11:00.002-05:00

Oh, don't worry, it's nothing quite as dramatic as the title promises.

I'm just finding that this space doesn't call my name as often as it used to. I feel a bit guilty for only having newsy updates...and nothing really juicy and creative for you. So I think a little time away is just what I need. Hopefully, after my "trial separation," I'll feel a renewed spark and return with all sorts of interesting bits of my life to share.

Farewell for now.

We'll be having a new baby........

2010-06-02T15:22:00.003-05:00

BOY!

Yep, my feelings were nothing more than some wishful thinking, apparently! However, I must say that after learning the gender of our newest family member, I wouldn't have it any other way. I mean, really, don't I add enough drama to this Weatherby clan as it is?

Don't answer that. Let's just bask in the happy light of knowing that every little ounce and milimeter of this little guy appears to be healthy, according to the sonogram tech and her measurements.

Okay, here's the exciting part:

Names!

After lots of cool-for-a-minute notions, we've narrowed our list down to two possibilities:

*Ian Russell (Matt's favorite)

*Gannon Russell (My favorite...although I'm quite fond of Ian, also.)

Russell is Matthew's middle name, and his father's first name. Avery has my dad's first name for his middle one, so we always knew if we had another boy we'd follow suit with the other side of the family. And while we were still deliberating girl names, we were considering Matt's mother's name, Alayne (or a form of that name), for either a first name or middle name, should we have a daughter.

We're considering waiting until we meet this little boy to decide which name fits him best. Honestly, though, I've already been trying Gannon out, making sure it's something Avery can pronounce (he still has trouble with R's and L's...and I wasn't positive he'd be able to spit it out...but he can! Yay! One point for Mama's name - we're ignoring the fact that Ian is even easier to say than Gannon, by the way.).

That's about it for Weatherby news currently.

We hope the sun is shining down on you.

For now...

2010-05-18T10:59:00.004-05:00

This week has been full of everything from sadness to joy.

A friend, Erin, from college just lost her younger (and only) brother to suicide. So final...and such a terrible, tragic loss. The one slightly bright side is that through this tragedy, our little circle of girls will be reuniting to support Erin at the prayer service tomorrow evening.

Avery attended his first buddy birthday party on Sunday. The birthday boy's family rented an inflatable Mickey Mouse play center that was comparable in size to my first apartment. Oh, what fun they had! Mama even climbed in to jump with the kids! Somehow my camera has been absent from my arms over the last few months...I'm regretting that more and more every day.

Matt's parents arrive Thursday evening for a visit. We've all tried to live healthier in the last 4-6 months, and the proof is clearly visible in Matt and his parents (I, on the other hand, just seem to grow, grow, grow!). Saturday they will test themselves at Fargo's marathon...though they will only be taking on the 10 K.

Eek! I still have carpets to steam clean, bed linens to freshen, bathrooms to scrub, and a kitchen to organize before they arrive!

So, this little snippet of an update will have to do until I get this laundry list of chores finished.

Ah crap - nearly forgot about the laundry...Better get moving!

IntelliGender Confusion

2010-05-08T12:57:00.004-05:00

For some reason, I've been slightly convinced that this little bean I'm carrying just might be a girl. (Really, this is only supported by two very weak facts: 1. I've been crazy-sick this pregnancy, and 2. Baby's heart rate has been in the high 150's to low 160's range.) It's been killing me that we have to wait so long to find out the sex of the baby! I mean, hey, Matt and I have agreed that this is our last babe, so it's sort of our last hoorah - or something.

Anyway, our ultrasound is scheduled for May 28th. Woohoo. Great. Whoop-dee-doo. That's still another 3 weeks away! My in-laws are coming the week before, and it would be fantastic if we knew, and could celebrate, when they're here. I even considered calling my physician's office to see if we could move our appointment a week earlier. Then I remembered I'll just be 18 weeks on the 28th...and since the window of optimum heart imaging is between 18-20 weeks, I figured we'd better not push our luck. So I gave in.

Then I talked to my friend, Sara, last night! There is something called the IntelliGender Gender Prediction Test. As my pal was explaining this to me, I was thinking that it's probably about as accurate as dangling a pendant above your belly and waiting to see if it moves from side to side, or in circles (By the way, I did this one, too...and it made circles - which is supposed to mean it's a girl!). But apparently, some actual "doctors" claim that this test is 90% accurate, and can be performed as early as 10 weeks into your pregnancy. It detects hormones in your urine, indicating by a color code the sex of your baby.

Ok, so I wasn't exactly convinced yet...but I sure was curious. So this morning I headed to my local CVS pharmacy and bought a test ($40 plus tax!!!). Now, I didn't take photos of my results, but I can tell you they looked like the girl results on this page! I'm not about to rush out and buy everything pink and ruffly I can find, but it's sort of fun - especially if it's accurate! If, on the 28th, however, we're told we're having another boy, I will definitely regret the purchase price. My husband will surely have something to say on the matter, as well.

Goodbye, First Trimester!

2010-04-25T10:41:00.003-05:00

We won't be missing you!

That's right! We finally hit the 13 week mark. No more progesterone supplements, no more vomiting (at least, not in the last week+), and the exhaustion levels have certainly decreased.

On another positive note, I had another OB check yesterday. Baby's heart rate is still in the high 150's, and my doctor is confident that things will go smoothly from here on out! I had been going in every two weeks to monitor the baby's heart rate and make sure everything else was progressing normally, and after yesterday's visit, I was told I didn't have to come back for 5 weeks!

So, on May 28th we will do another ultrasound (and if things go well, we should find out the sex!) and an appointment with my doctor. During the ultrasound they will focus in on the four chambers of the baby's heart, to make certain our new little one doesn't have any congenital heart defects. Since Avery has a couple issues in that department, our chances are slightly higher that we'd have another child with a similar problem. There has been nothing thus far to indicate that this baby has anything abnormal going on, but knowledge is power in this sort of situation, and the medical staff would like to be aware should our baby need any special care upon birth.

(*Praying that isn't necessary whatsoever!)

In other news, Avery is immensely enjoying "listening" to the baby in Mommy's tummy :) It makes me happy, too, knowing he's excited about the prospect of a new sibling. Let's just hope that good-natured attitude keeps up once the little one is here and wailing 'round the clock!

Happy weekend to you all.

9 Weeks & 6 Days

2010-04-01T09:52:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow will mark week 10! Hooray!

Here is what I've discovered since my last post:

1. Reglan makes my heart go pitter-patter (and so not in a good way. Dr. B-G said, "No more.").

2. Zofran gives me the yawns, and makes it virtually impossible for me to get anything done in a day. Plus, I was still throwing up while taking it, so what's the point?

3. I would give my left ear to be done with this first trimester! Ugh! The vomiting is really getting old.

4. I am so very thankful to have a mother and husband who are understanding and willing to help out. I can't even remember the last time I cooked a meal for my family!

5. We are excited that this pregnancy has stuck (fingers crossed it stays that way!), and that as each week passes, we get that much closer to adding to our little family!

Wishing you all a Happy Easter full of good food, good friends, love, and family.

Evil Stomach Bug Chronicles: Victims I and II

2010-03-24T10:11:00.006-05:00

For the last week, Avery's had a nasty stomach bug that's created such chaos in his little digestive system, he's been able to clear rooms single(ahem...)-tootedly. I can't begin to describe what this little experience has been like to deal with while pregnant and nauseous at all hours of the day.

Last Friday, my poor, sick little boy finally started to feel a little better. Hooray! (Cue the overly-dramatic "Dum, dum, dummmmm" music.)

Or so I thought. Turns out, the beast that had been living inside my dear child was just releasing its grip on him long enough to squirm its way into another body - mine. The result?

Saturday = complete and utter agony.

Sunday = I finally listened to my husband and drove myself over to Urgent Care, received some IV fluids (to ward off dehydration) and some IV Zofran, which until this stomach bug fiasco had been my saving grace for nausea-related instances. Four and a half hours later, I was on my way home, feeling considerably better than when I'd gone in. By 8:00 that evening, however, I was back to my vomiting self.

Monday = Back to Urgent Care. Blood tests, urine sample, more IV fluids, different IV anti-nausea medication. My results were as follows: viral stomach germ - no treatment other than Pedialyte and Reglan (the new anti-nausea med) to keep the deydration and vomiting at bay. No bladder infection. (By the way - Pedialyte? Did this Dr. know I was 28 years old?? Yep -- apparently this horrible-tasting little beverage has a unique characteristic in that its electrolytes are absorbed straight through the stomach lining and doesn't have to be fully digested in order to provide benefits to the body. Hm...still doesn't taste good.)

After another 3+ hours in Innovis (this time, because the ER and Urgent Care were so busy, I got a lovely "overflow room," which consisted of a gurney, rolling stool, pillow and blanket placed in the hallway of the ER with a curtain draped around it. Oh - and it was right next to the ice/water dispenser and blanket warmer. What lavish accommodations!), I finally left feeling better than I had in days.

I sure hope this bug is done with our household. It's left some marks on us (me) that we (I) won't be forgetting for quite some time.

6 Weeks and 3 Days

2010-03-08T08:36:00.002-06:00

That's how far along we are in this pregnancy! Phew -- I've been debating whether it's too early to announce it to the world, but I've been at my bursting point for way too long...so announcing it I am.

I'm not foolish enough to believe we're in the clear yet, though. After all, I was eight weeks when we lost one before. However, as soon as I saw the two pink lines on the pregnancy test, I called my physician's office, went in for lab work, and discovered my hormone levels weren't spiking as they should have been. I've been on progesterone supplements since we found out about this little bun in my oven, and thankfully, they seem to be doing their job.

We had our first ultrasound on Friday, to make sure things were developing as they should. We got to see the baby's heart beat! And here is the craziest part: our ultrasound tech informed us that a fetus' (I don't particularly care for that term...) heart starts to beat between five weeks five days and five weeks six days, and according to her findings, I was at five weeks six days on Friday. She told us it was entirely possible that the little heart had just started beating within hours! Honestly, I didn't really care when exactly it had happened as long as we could see proof that things were going well so far. And that little heart beat sure calmed my fears for a good while.

So the plan is that I'll stay on the supplements through the first twelve weeks of pregnancy, when we are most susceptible to issues. We have another ultrasound scheduled at the end of March, just to make sure everything is still on track. We will also have our first doctor's visit, so hopefully by that time we can be even more confident that this pregnancy will result in an addition to our little family.

I've been praying, and praying, and praying. And I don't think I'll be stopping anytime soon.

Let this be the one!

Closeup of a Three-Year-Old

2010-02-17T08:52:00.009-06:00

My baby turned three this month. I can't believe the changes this last year has brought; my boy is dressing/undressing himself (and gets quite miffed when we try to assist!), speaking like a school age child, using the toilet for its intended purpose regularly (accidents happen, of course), and expressing his ideas, interests, and opinions as an individual. There are more accomplishments and milestones, obviously, but these seem to be the defining moments each day in which I look at this child and wonder,
"Where did my baby go?"

This boy loves broccoli.

He gets frustrated with his mama's photo sessions.

He has ridiculously long eyelashes.

He is fun. And hilariously funny.

So silly.

And when we cuddle - whether we're reading books,
watching cartoons, or having a quiet moment -
he leans in for a hug,
and tells us with absolute certainty,
"I love you so much."

Oh Avery...
I love you so much.

Success and Positive Thinking

2010-02-01T11:47:00.003-06:00

1. Success!

Avery is going potty on the toilet. Hooray! I have to confess: I was really stressing over the idea that he may not be potty trained by his third birthday. Then, last Saturday morning, he woke up and wanted to wear some BBU's (Big Boy Underwear). We've tried this approach a couple of times in the last year; putting underwear on and telling him he can't go potty in them, placing him on the toilet, etc. He was excited about this whole idea previously, but never had the patience to sit and wait for the potty to come. Last weekend, though, he stayed on and peed like a champ! Occasionally, after that first successful attempt, he would reject the suggestions I made that he try to sit on the toilet again (usually in about 1/2 hour intervals). So to entice him, I used these little incentives:

- A squirt of baby soap in the toilet, so that when he went potty, he made bubbles!

- A Potty Poster - one star sticker for potty, two star stickers for poop (which we haven't succeeded at yet). Once the poster is filled, he gets to pick out a new toy from the toy store.

- One M&M for each time he even sat on the toilet the first day (thankfully, he forgot about this incentive by the second day, and was more focused on the bubbles and star stickers).

- Fun Disney character underwear. He was so excited to pull those pants down and see his Bob the Builder (actually, I don't think this one is Disney, but you know what I mean), Batman, and Finding Nemo undies every time we went into the bathroom!

It has now been just over a week since we started this potty training shove, and we've only had a handful of accidents. So far, he hasn't made a #2 deposit (he is still wearing diapers overnight and has saved the pooping for then), and aside from making sure he gets lots of fiber and drinks plenty of fluids, I'm not sure what to do to make this one happen on the toilet. I'm trying to be patient, though!

We have an adapter seat on the standard toilet that Avery usually goes potty on, but I've read that doing the "big job" on something so high up makes them feel nervous, which means they're unable to relax enough to poop. (I'm sorry, by the way, if anyone reading this is offended by my topic today. It's a Mama thing, and I doubt I'll offend other Mamas out there. Anyone else can just skip this first portion and go straight down to the Positive Thinking section of my post.) We have a little potty chair in both bathrooms (three kid toilets total)...so we have just been using each of the different ones randomly throughout the day, thinking that maybe he'll find one is "The Perfect Pooper."

So, the point is: I'm open to suggestions. How do I speed this process along? Or at least keep it on track?

2. Positive Thinking

My subtitle for this blog is a quote by Norman Vincent Peale. While I love the quote, I honestly hadn't even heard of Dr. Peale until I Googled famous quotes about zest for life. I decided it's quite uneducated and ridiculous, really, to quote someone about whom I know nothing (I just spent the last 10 minutes trying to figure out if I had written that last sentence properly).

To solve this issue, I decided to order this from Amazon last week. Since Dr. Peale was a minister (preacher?), much of his focus is on the role God plays in one's life. I would say that I'm spiritual, if not overly religious. The reviews I read before purchasing this book were pretty impressive - one reviewer even goes so far as to say the book is like a pocket psychotherapist. Hm...

I have barely begun reading it, but already it has me thinking about my beliefs. I have always questioned why Catholics believe their version of Christianity is better than all others. I have also wondered why each niche religion insists that what they believe is different from the beliefs of others'. From my standpoint, many - if not all - beliefs are centered on the idea that there is a greater power, and that we, as believers, followers, humans, disciples, etc. are to keep that in mind while going about our lives. We are not to feel entitled to everything the world has to offer, but to feel thankful when we are blessed with good things and experiences, and to reflect spiritually - internally - when those things or experiences are not so good.

If the intent of old Norm's book is to make people realize that sometimes we are not in control, I've already figured that out, thank you. I'm hoping I can take something more than that from this collection of three books in one, though. In the first few pages of The Power of Positive Thinking, Dr. Peale declares that the answer to diminishing self-doubt is to fill those doubt-filled spaces with God's love, support, and dependability.

Now I understand this idea...really, I do, but doesn't this thought process also give away responsibility for one's successes and failures? If I put God into every nook and cranny of my being, the way I'm told to, does that really solve my feelings of insecurity? It is my belief that we are ever-changing individuals - and we are intended to be this way. I think, for instance, that I could be a more generous, giving person...doing more to impact the lives of people who are less fortunate than I. But (unless I'm taking Dr. Peale's thoughts too literally) if I just fill this shortcoming with the knowledge that God accepts me as I am, does that really help me to become a better person?

Perhaps I haven't read far enough into this book yet. Maybe there are more defined, proactive steps to bettering myself than I have found in my initial 26 pages of reading. So far, though, I find myself a little doubtful that this book will be the magic tool I use to improve my quality of life.

Fed Up in Fargo

2010-01-18T15:15:00.004-06:00

Dear Ms. Manners,

Yikes, it's been a long year!

We hit the "terrible twos" nearly a year ago now, and I can't tell you how happy I'll be to wave bye-bye to it. What exactly do parents have to blame their child(ren)'s poor behavior on once this year has past, though? Yeesh.

I exaggerate - slightly. Avery isn't really the demon child I claim him to be each week. He has his moments (trust me) but he can also be a perfectly lovely kid, too. And lately...during the last few months, I would say, things had gotten considerably better. But over the last two weeks, I think we've taken a turn for the worst.

I've told you I'm doing some part-time child care out of our home, and it has been going quite well. There's one exception, though: Avery doesn't know how to share, refuses to learn, and has quite a vile temper when he doesn't get his way. I know, I know...this is typical of a two-year-old. But when he crosses the line and starts trying to cause physical harm (pulling fingers {No, not in the funny way our dads had us pull their fingers when we were children, with a toot following closely behind}, shoving, and slapping at his hands) to the child I care for, it makes the situation much more complex. It is so frustrating! We try time-outs...sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. We occasionally watch "Super Nanny," and understand that it takes parents who are in agreement with disciplinary actions and staying consistent for children to get the message and correct their behavior, but for some reason, success in this area has dodged us thus far.

I know, given more time, this problem should improve greatly. I just wish there was a surefire way to speed things along. Any advice? Or shall I submit my application to the SuperNanny immediately?

Sincerely,
M. Weatherby

Hmm...

2010-01-08T11:46:00.004-06:00

For the most part, I don't like to delve too deep into the more personal, darker corners of my life here on Zesty. Occasionally, though, it's one of the best places to vent my frustrations, concerns, and painful experiences.

In October, I talked about this. However difficult it was (and sometimes, continues to be), I have stayed hopeful and mostly positive about the prospect of adding to our little family. So we waited until we got the go-ahead from our doctor, and started again.

The short version of this story?

Pregnancy test taken (two, actually...and done two days apart just to be sure).

Positive results.

Hours later...GONE.

Doctor visit (failed pregnancy).

More blood work.

Waiting for results.

Ugh. The waiting. I know I voiced my frustration about waiting for medical staff to return calls in my earlier post, as well. I truly do understand that I am not the only patient waiting for results...really, I do. But it doesn't make me want my results any less.

Matt asked me last night at the dinner table how I would take it if we got the news that I wasn't able to have any more children. Ohhhhhhhh, how I didn't want to go to that place. Voicing fears that had been tip-toeing around in my head for the last few months is so painful. So I took the safest route possible, and joked that we'd just have to con one of my sisters into being our surrogate. Really, I just wanted to yell and cry about how unfair that would be, and that he is never allowed to say things like that in my presence ever again.

But I didn't. And dinner continued with light conversations about things like the -87 degree wind chill (only a slight exaggeration) and what Avery did earlier in the day.

So today, hopefully, I'll finally get a call with my results. Again, I find myself praying harder than I probably have since October...and again I'm wondering why that is, and whether it's realistic for my prayer to be answered. I'm reminding myself that prayers are answered everyday, and in the next breath I'm reminding myself that prayers sometimes aren't answered at all how we'd like them to be; sometimes there's a whole different plan in store, and we have yet to find out what or why that is.

Merry and Bright

2009-12-30T09:50:00.003-06:00

Avery and cousin, Teghan, received bouncey horses
from Grandma and Grandpa Weatherby.
Ride 'em, Cowboy (and Cowgirl)!

One of the cutest ornaments...
from a Christmas when my husband wasn't quite three.
Coincidentally, it's the same age Avery was for this Christmas.

I love the mix of old and new ornaments.

Nebraska sunrise the morning we left to come back home.

Beautiful!

We hope your holiday was full of the glow from Christmas lights,
gorgeous sunrises,
and the love of those you hold dear.

Untitled

2009-12-18T10:16:00.003-06:00

We wake,
Work,
Love,
Hate,
Worry,
Conquer,
Celebrate!
And during the moments
in between,
we take a deep, steadying breath,
and close our eyes.
Cherish these quiet moments.
This life is
so very fragile.

I Got Sidetracked...

2009-12-17T11:33:00.003-06:00

I really have been meaning to get back here and tell you about more of our favorite things. My little hopeful business venture got an unexpected endorsement this week, though.

Oh. Dear. Me.

I had hopes of starting my own day care out of our home. It was put on the back burner, though, after our propery managers failed to install the fence we were promised. So Avery and I have been content just doing as our hearts desire each day.

Until Tuesday!

I've got a little guy starting twice a week with me! It turns out, it's not what you know that gets you places -- it's WHO you know. (I know...we've all heard this before, but in this instance, it was proven to me indefinitely.) A lady who works with my mom at the clinic was looking for someone to watch her adorable nearly-one-year-old son two days a week (her mother watches said cutie the rest of the week).

So, please excuse me if I've been a bit distracted. I've been scrambling to insert all of the outlet covers and crawl around looking for other dangers to little beings.

Hopefully we'll get into a better rhythm after the holidays.

Until then,
Merry Christmas!

A few of my favorite things!

2009-12-03T11:11:00.002-06:00

...But first!...

I had every intention of posting something wonderful this morning. Now morning has turned into very late morning, and still I have no blog post.

I spent the last hour (and then some) trying to figure out how to add "Zesty" to that neat little photo I took yesterday, which now adorns the top title area of my blog. Yeesh. I think I may need to be admitted to an inpatient psychiatric ward at this point. I'm not especially techno-savvy, but I'd like to think that I can tough my way through this sort of situation. I've thrown in the towel, though. (Easy to understand instructions would be greatly appreciated, but not expected!)

So just pretend my title area actually includes the title of my blog, would ya, please? Thank you very much.

Now...on with the show.

I promised a "Favorite Things" post, and you will receive one - even if it leads to a severe mental breakdown.

We'll start with some random offerings (because, let's face it, I don't have the mental capacity to create something organized. And truthfully, it's kind of fitting).

1. Electric Toothbrushes! Not only do they clean your teeth effectively and quickly (even if you're still half asleep), but they're fun for children! In my humble, personal opinion, they do a much better job with less objections from the younger, shorter population. Avery spotted this Spiderman toothbrush in our local WalMart and decided we weren't leaving the store without it. (Mommy and Daddy have their own grown-up versions, as well!)

2. This perfume! Never in my life did I think I would ever own something with Paris Hilton's name on it. Never ever EVER! But I'm loving this perfume! When I shop for fragrances, I usually just stroll along the counter, picking up bottles and sniffing, only hesitating when something pleases my scent pallatte. You can't imagine my dismay when I looked at the bottom of this bottle and found You-Know-Who's name. Ach. But really, it smells divine.

3. LIP BALM! I am a hopeless addict when it comes to this stuff. (How did cavewomen manage without it? Did they wish for something refreshing to spread onto their dry, chapped lips?) This and this are my favorites. You can usually find them on my nightstand - and one in my pocket. And at least one in my purse. One in the car..........You get the idea.

Next we'll have some Holiday Favorites, then possibly some Avery Favorites. Look for them as soon as my brain has healed from today's injuries (jury's still out on how long that may take).

Just a quick note

2009-11-25T09:46:00.002-06:00

My sister and her boyfriend, Jeff, are bringing home a little holiday gift today.

His name is Porter, and they found him here. If you're considering getting a pet, please check out the local shelters. Not only will it make you a happy pet owner, but you can feel great about adopting for a number of worthwhile reasons:

*Your pet (if old enough, and of the furry variety) will already be spayed/neutered.
*You will have the satisfaction of knowing - for certain - that your money is not going to an evil breeder.
*You will have supported a wonderful organization.

A word of warning: view the adoptable animals at your own risk. It's taking all the self-control I can muster not to rush off and adopt every single animal in the facility!

PetFinder.com

4LuvofDog.com

Blah Bloggy Blog...

2009-11-24T10:07:00.004-06:00

...or Bloggy Blog Blah. Or Blog Bloggy Blah. Or Blah Blog Bloggy.

No matter how you say it, I either A) haven't had anything to say {yeah, right!}, or B) haven't had the ambition to write. The end result, no matter which option we choose, is that I've had a cookie recipe on the top of my blog for far too long. It's been nagging at the back of my mind.

I have a post tucked up my sleeve that would highlight some of my favorite everyday items. I haven't started photographing them, however, and I'm not entirely sure what I'll include and what I won't. For example, I love my face wash...but it really isn't blog-worthy. And I really don't think you care that Matt and I decided overnight diapers would be a good idea, since our toilet-challenged two-year-old soaks regular Pampers like nobody's business.

So...someday soon, probably after Thanksgiving, I'll find the ambition to write a more interesting post. And I promise I'll try to make it more fun than Aveeno and Pampers.

Have a Happy Holiday!

Let the yumminess begin.

2009-11-06T12:26:00.009-06:00

As a child, whenever I was visiting my Grandma Micki's house, you can bet there were cookies in her cookie jar. That cookie jar was the best thing in the Whole. Wide. World.

What made it better than any other cookie jar, you ask? Try snatching a cookie out of my mother's cookie jar, then we'll talk.

Okay. Really my point is that you could snatch cookies at nine in the morning, 11:55 (just as you're sitting down to lunch), nine in the evening...and any old time in between. Without being scolded or getting your little hand swatted!

More often than not, Grandma had Ice Box Cookies stored in her cookie jar. (On occasion, she'd go on strike and just buy Oreos, though.) Grandma's Ice Box Cookies are my favorite cookie of all time. I was fortunate enough to get a recipe for them, and now I'll share it with you!

Ice Box Cookies
(a.k.a. Refrigerator Cookies)

1 C. Sugar
1 C. Brown Sugar
2/3 C. Shortening (I use butter flavored Crisco)
2/3 C. Butter (room temp.)
2 tsp. Vanilla
2 Eggs

3 1/4 C. Flour
1 C. Chopped Nuts (I used pecans and walnuts,
but whatever you have on hand is fine)
1 tsp. Salt

1. Cream together first six ingredients, adding eggs one at a time.

2. Mix in dry ingredients, adding flour gradually.

3. Seperate cookie dough into two equal-sized balls. Form each ball into a roll (approximately 2 1/2 to 3 inches in diameter) and wrap in wax paper. Chill at least 8 hours.

4. Slice about 1/8 inch thick and bake (I prefer to use parchment paper) at 375 degrees for 8 minutes - or until edges are just golden brown.

(See where there are a couple missing? Avery and I just couldn't wait any longer...)

I promise - if you like buttery, nutty, chewy and crunchy goodness, you will love these cookies.

"Dinah, won't you blow your horn?"

2009-11-03T11:55:00.003-06:00

This post and my next one are devoted to my Grandma Micki. Her real name's Pearl Maxine, but many, many years ago, she decided that was an old lady name. I'm not exactly sure how she chose Micki, but I sure can't imagine calling her anything else.

The following are some of my most prominent memories of her.

~Grandma always carried Tic-Tacs in her purse, and Sundays during church, you could hear the Skunes kids jiggling the container. In retrospect, she should have had larger treats - they'd have kept our mouths closed a little longer!

~When my sisters and I were sick during childhood, occasionally we'd be dropped off at Grandma's for the day. We'd spend it cozied up in her bed, watching "The Price is Right" and eating Campbell's chicken noodle soup.

~The first thing she ever taught her grandchildren was how to play poker - not Go Fish, not Uno...but poker. I thought it was great.

~In one of her extra bedrooms, there was this gigantic round box that she had filled with "dress up" clothes: an emerald green cocktail dress from her younger years, a Hunter Hornets basketball jersey, an Arthur Knights baseball jersey (Arthur is the closest town to the farm), random dress clothes of hers and Gramps' that either went out of fashion or became too big/small. There were lots of photos taken of all the cousins dressed up in items from that box, and they were some of my happiest memories.

~She knows the words to every Judds song ever written. When we'd ride in the car with her, she'd be-bop away, dancing and singing from the driver's seat.

~She buys boxed wine. And LOVES it. Occasionally she opens it wrong and ruins the seal on the box, so she dumps it in a regular juice pitcher and drinks from it for weeks - even after it's started to turn to vinegar.

~She can throw the most random ingredients into a pot or baking dish and come up with something scrumptious for any meal.

~She uses Pond's cold cream to remove her make-up. The smell of that stuff is something I'll remember forever.

~Grandma is continually outraged that young people these days have to shower daily.

~She is a bridge player - and a damn good one.

~She can finish a crossword puzzle faster than anyone I know. She can come up with the most random, little-known word or phrase in a millisecond. It is her I thank for my initial love of words.

~She taught me to use newspapers and vinegar water to wash windows.

~Grandma has macular degeneration, and can no longer drive. She has a golf cart at their vacation home in Mesa, Arizona, though...I don't want to imagine what will happen the day she's told she's too dangerous to be meandering the streets of their retirement community.

~Even though she can no longer see what's 20 feet ahead of her, she can navigate you through Mesa/Phoenix like she was born there, announcing every street by name.

~One does not debate her orders; I can clearly recall my father and grandpa begrudgingly doing as they were told on many occasions...things that may or may not have been done incorrectly, but they didn't dare dispute the topic.

~She makes rearranging furniture look like a profession. We joke sometimes that if my grandpa comes home in the dark, he'd better turn the lights on or he'll end up flat on his face tripping over the sofa.

~She would do anything for anyone she loves. Once, when a friend's family member passed away, she and a couple of her church buddies went to help the family clear out the house. In return for cleaning out the attic, she was told to pick any item she wanted, and she chose a World War I bugle.

I remember that because I played my father's old cornet in middle/high school, I was the only grandchild able to play that bugle. We had heard my grandma tell the story numerous times about how she acquired it, but I'd always thought the story had been stretched over the years, and it was some worthless piece of trash that should have been thrown out long ago.

Then, a few years ago when my grandparents sold their lake cabin, every family member was able to choose an item during their own clearing out process. My Grandma Micki told me I should take the bugle, and knowing you don't argue with grandma, I took it.

Since that day, it hasn't always had a prominent resting place in our home. It does now, though. It sits on top of the hutch on my desk, and every time I see it, I think of where it's been. I can honestly say it feels right to play Taps on that horn. And it brings a misty smile to my face when my son now totes it around, calling it his tuba, and blowing his own clear, bright tone from its bell.

Fall Findings

2009-10-27T09:57:00.010-05:00

With H1N1 (a.k.a. "swine flu") making its presence known lately, we've been a bit hermit-like in these parts. Due to the fact that Avery and I have no obligations to the outside world on a day to day basis, I thought we'd just weather this storm in the comfort of our home.

Then I remembered we currently share a home with my mother (and who filled in at the pediatric department last week, assisting in the treatment of approximately 40 sick children).

As I was thinking of all those scary germs, I remembered another frightening fact: money is some of the most germy, yucky stuff on earth. It just so happens that money is something my husband handles EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. *shudder*

Needless to say, I implemented a strict hand washing law; the minute one walks in the door, hands must be washed, and clothes must be changed.

I feel I need to defend myself...I am usually not a germ-a-phobe. The 3 second rule for eating food dropped on the floor in our house is sometimes stretched to 5 and even 10 seconds. Heck, if a piece of candy goes unnoticed for a few days, and Avery snatches it up and eats it, I've even managed to not cringe.

But this flu has us all in a tizzy, so we've stayed in. We've been baking (more to come on that later), doing craft projects, reading books, and playing indoor games. Autumn has all but passed us by. Then, yesterday I glimpsed the sun shining through the window as my son jumped wildly on my couch cushions.

Okay, so we won't be going to the park and exchanging nasty high-fives with germy kids, or careening down the booger-smeared slide. But we sure can walk around the neighborhood! So off we strolled into the crisp autumn air.

By the time we returned home, I had an armful of "pwetty weaves."

I'm so glad we didn't miss this.

Pumpkin Carving

2009-10-21T09:46:00.010-05:00

This is the first year we've really done pumpkin carving with Avery. He seemed very excited about the final product, but wasn't so sure he wanted to partake in the scooping phase of the process. Thankfully, Matt is able to convince Avery to do just about anything (sometimes that's not so good), and he had him scooping pumpkin guts in no time.

I said he was scooping...I didn't say he enjoyed it.

Once we got the guts scooped, it was on to carving. I realized at that point that if Avery didn't enjoy the scooping portion, there really wasn't anything left that he'd have fun doing. Crap. He did get to pick out his stencil, though, and seemed very excited about his choice.

Can't you see the excitement???
Matt chose to do his pumpkin old-fashioned, claiming, "stencils are cheating!" And, yes, maybe they are, but I wouldn't have been able to create Avery's monkey face without one.

My beloved worked diligently, first drawing on his design with a pen, then carving. I tried so hard to get his "concentrating look" captured on film. He purses his lips together and releases them in rapid succession - it's quite hilarious to watch. Unfortunately, I've given him a hard time about this expression a few too many times, and since he knew he was being photographed...Well, I just couldn't catch it. Oh well!

(By the way, this is the first time my husband has had a full beard - this is only a couple weeks' growth, and supposedly there will be no shaving for months. It sure takes some getting used to! But I think it fits his personality.)
After we finished, we found a nice, dark bathroom to test out the Jack-O-Lanterns.

Avery's monkey face. (It's tough taking photos in the dark without a flash - so expect some blur!)

My crow. (My mother claims this isn't a traditional Jack-O-Lantern {in mom-speak this means she doesn't like it} and while I agree that it's not, I still like it. A lot.)

Here it is! Matt's piece de resistance: Goofy, gap-toothed, googly-eyed Jack. My mother adores him. Maybe next year, Mom, maybe next year.

Hope your Halloween is spooky, safe, and full of treats.

10/14/06

2009-10-14T08:47:00.008-05:00

Today marks our third year of marriage. Three years ago we stood in front of our friends and family and exchanged vows. With our baby growing inside me, you promised to love, cherish, and be faithful; I promised the same to you.

We've been through a lot together, Matthew, and I feel it has only made us stronger - as individuals, as partners, and as friends.

I dream of having more of your babies; seeing the best of both of us in them.

I look forward to the days when we are blessed with wisdom that only age and experience can bring us, and of our children's children bouncing on our knees and giggling into our joyous faces.

You are so much more than my husband, and I love you dearly.

Happy Anniversary.

Seeing Red

2009-10-07T08:40:00.006-05:00

*If you have a weak stomach, please don't read the rest of this post. Please.*

Sunday.
I went grocery shopping.
Concocted Pioneer Woman's Baba Ghanoush.
Made scalloped potatoes and ham for supper.
Tried to tell Avery he didn't need to watch Spiderman 3 for the fourth day in a row.
Washed the supper dishes.
Baked cookies for my grandma, who helps with her church's version of the "Welcome Wagon."
Washed baking dishes.

And started to miscarry.

Being nearly 8 weeks pregnant, the last thing I expected when I took a bathroom break was to find red-tinged toilet paper. My mother is a nurse, as I've mentioned, and she calmly and confidently told me not to get too worked up; that some women have spotting during pregnancy. I was to just monitor the situation and call my Dr's office in the morning.

So I did. I monitored the situation like a fanatic.

Every couple of hours I would sit straight up in bed, unable to shut off my mind and return to sleep. Is it worse? Has it stopped? I would try to fool myself into feeling confident, trying to walk slowly to my bathroom like I had all the reason in the world to take my time.

Like my brain wasn't clanging against my skull with jittery nervousness.
Like my hands weren't shaking uncontrollably.
Like my heart wasn't trying to pang its way out of my chest.
Like it wasn't a strong conscious effort to take a deep breath.

So with those shaking hands, I swiped again with the toilet paper. It was redder, darker, and there was more of it. And was it just my mind overworking, or was I feeling some cramping?

Each time I went to check, it was worse than the time before. My heart was plummeting to places that were shady with their incredible sadness and negativity, and each time it dove down there, I reeled it back in, attempting to stay positive.

When morning finally came, my husband kissed me and told me everything would be okay. He left for work, and I called my OB nurse...and left a message. I felt like I watched every damn minute tick by until she finally called back - nearly two hours later. She told me that some women experience bleeding between their 6th and 8th week of pregnancy, when the embryo burrows down into your uterine lining. She told me this doesn't happen to every woman, and it doesn't occur during every pregnancy. I was to come in for some blood tests to check my hormone levels. I was also told that some women's bodies don't produce enough progesterone to support pregnancy, and that if I had low levels, they could supplement them to help my body be more stable for the baby growing inside.

I called Matt. He was coming home to watch Avery so that I didn't have to keep track of a two-year-old while I had blood drawn.

I put in Spiderman 3 and headed for the shower. I undressed and looked down at my barely-showing belly.

What's happening? I wondered for the hundredth time in about 8 hours.

I said a little prayer and stepped into the shower. (Why do I only think to pray when things are scary or not going well? What makes me think my prayers will be answered? For someone who isn't incredibly religious, it seems a bit pathetic to reach out to God when I don't regularly make Him a part of my daily life.)

As I felt the hot water stream down my body, I looked down. And saw clots. Horrible, deep scarlet splotches dropping to the floor of my shower, and being quickly whisked down the drain. I made myself look up and continued showering. I finished, stepped out of the shower, and hoped the worst was done.

The cramping wasn't my imagination, and it continued.

Matt returned home, and I left for the clinic. After I registered, I entered the lab waiting room. Do you know how many large, pregnant bellies one sees on a Monday morning in the lab? Thirteen. I counted. And that was in a 20 minute time frame. Finally my name was called, and I followed the phlebotomist back to have my blood drawn. I have "terrible veins" apparently, and watching the vile woman wriggle that needle in my arm, searching frantically for my vein just about put me over the edge. But I just closed my eyes, grit my teeth, and imagined bashing her head against the Band-Aid dispenser.

I was told that it should take only an hour to have the results back. I was to call my OB nurse again and let her know we were awaiting my results. I had left the clinic at 10:45 that morning, so by my calculations, I should have my results by noon - at the latest.

I tried to show I was cool, calm, and collected - I waited until 11:51 to call. And left another message. I endured their insanely long, informative but infuriating voicemail message about pregnant women needing to get flu shots, and how their line is answered "between the hours of 8 am and 5 pm. We are not available to take your call right now, so please leave your name, date of birth, chart number, your doctor's name, and contact number, and we will return your call as soon as we are able."

Which turned out to be three minutes before 2 pm. Do you know how evil your mind can be in that length of time? Very.

It turns out my Hcg (pregnancy hormone) and progesterone were extremely low. I was told that the normal level for a pregnant woman's progesterone is 20 - mine was 1.4. And the tale I was told about getting this hormone supplemented, should it be lower than normal? Apparently a pregnancy is only worth "saving" if your levels are 10 or above. The OB nurse informed me that it's best "just wait and see how things play out. We don't want to try and save a bad pregnancy."

Wow. Did this woman take lessons to become cold and careless with her words?

I sat propped against the pillows in my bed.

I tried to stay calm.

And dammit, I needed to pee. I was beginning to despise the bathroom. Every time I entered, I would cling desperately to the hope that maybe this time I wouldn't see blood. And every time the bleeding was worse.

I hadn't cried yet after hanging up with the nurse. On my way out of the bathroom Matt asked me how I was. Evidently he hadn't heard the phone ring; he didn't know of our news. All I could manage was, "The nurse called back. Not good." Then I scurried back into my cave/room and burrowed into the covers. I just wanted to sink in and never surface again. I rolled onto my side, facing the closet, and saw all of the maternity clothes hanging there. I looked down, and at the foot of my bed was the double stroller I had purchased at a garage sale only a couple weeks earlier.

I was sobbing so hard I thought surely I would wake Avery from his nap.

How could this be happening? We wanted this baby. It was no accident that we were expecting! And after two unplanned pregnancies before this one with no problems to speak of, why this? Why us?

---------------------------------------------
I have to go in today for more blood work. They will need to check whether my body has done its job and pushed everything through, or whether a doctor will have to assist with completing that job. It's called a D & C. And I am desperately hoping that it's not necessary.

I believe I'm a strong woman.

I know I will get through this. And I know we will try again when we're told it's safe. But I know there will be fear of this happening again. And I believe it will make me more reserved and cautious about announcing a pregnancy, should we be fortunate enough to have another.

The absolute only positive thing that has come from this is that I look at Avery and see a miracle. The stars aligned, we were blessed, everything went as it should have with his fetal development.

Of that, I am now so incredibly grateful.

The Great Medical Facility Debate

2009-10-02T09:10:00.005-05:00

We've had to make a decision about where we are going to doctor with this little baking bun.

I've been a medical receptionist off and on for almost five years, and I've worked for both medical facilities in our small community. They each have their pros and cons, so it was sort of daunting to decide where we will spend our considerable bun-birthing dollars.

There are a number of factors that played into our final decision. The first, and probably most important, is that both of my previous deliveries took place at Innovis Health. I had no prenatal care with baby number one (that's a story for another time...), but feel that the birthing process and the care given were certainly as accommodating and genuine as one could have hoped for in that situation. (Did that make any sense?)

Four years after that first delivery, my husband and I found ourselves in need of an obstetrician for our first baby together. So who would we choose? Why, the same man who delivered baby number one, of course! Dr. Greg Glasner is an extremely likable, caring, and knowledgeable physician. However, he is now the CEO of Innovis Health, which means he now spends more time attending board meetings than he does delivering babies. Bummer for us.

So now we virtually have a blank slate. Who to choose?

After Avery was born, his heart condition required us to see a pediatric cardiologist (he has an ASD and a VSD, in case you're wondering). It turns out the only one in town was located at MeritCare. So off we went, MeritCare newbies, lost in a maze of criss-crossing hallways and a sea of other patients. And while Dr. Rodrigo Rios took wonderful care of our worries and our tiny boy, we were never tempted to turn all of Avery's care over to MeritCare.

Perhaps it could be said that most of my loyalty to Innovis (formerly Dakota Clinic) is due to family roots. My mother is a nurse, and has worked for Dakota Clinic for many years. Growing up, I was always taken there for illnesses, check-ups, and annual sports physicals. This is also where my parents were hospitalized each time my dad had a heart attack/stroke, and my mother had cardioversions to treat her congestive heart failure. Anyway, you get the point: lots of strong, deep roots.

Then, when I went back to work full time after Avery was born, I just happened to get a position with MeritCare. To be honest, I felt a bit like a traitor. But take the job, I did, and I can honestly tell you it was the best fit I've ever had in the employment arena. (I say this past-tense only because my child apparently has issues with daycares, and I am now his full time care provider again.)

Ok...back on track, Megan.

For insurance coverage purposes, one who is employed by MeritCare doctors with MeritCare (otherwise you get screwed up the wazoo with out-of-network costs). So we chose a new pediatrician for Avery, and Matthew and I chose MeritCare providers for ourselves.

So, do we stick with our new network of caregivers? Or do we go back to the providers we know and love...a network of people we've known for years and years?

The unknown is scary. Would the MeritCare labor and delivery nurses be as good, as compassionate, as patient as they were at Innovis? Would the lactation consultant be as understanding, helpful, and encouraging? And possibly the most important question: Would the doctor who has gotten to know us during all of our prenatal visits be the one to deliver our baby? Would he remember my name? My husband's name? Our son's name? Whether we were expecting a boy or a girl - or, heaven forbid, more than one baby?

Also, I have given birth twice without an epidural. I have not needed the surgical expertise of a medical doctor. If this area offered one, I may even have opted for a birthing center, rather than a hospital setting for this baby's birth. I plan to go as naturally as possible again this time.

The answer is that for us, Innovis Health is the right choice. We know them. We don't always love every teeny tiny thing about them, but at least we know their flaws, and we can accept them. We have chosen Terry Burrell this time around. After Dr. Glasner moved on to administrative duties, I saw Terry for an annual check-up, and liked him. He's also a CNM, which means I will be one step closer to a more natural birth. MeritCare, I discovered, does not offer any midwives for prenatal care or delivery.

Sometime in May (most likely), you will find us on the sixth floor of Innovis Health. I'll be exhausted and uncomfortable, but I'll be content and happy, too, knowing we made the right decision for our little family.

It's Official!

2009-09-26T09:44:00.004-05:00

WE ARE PREGNANT!

If you're a Facebook friend, you've known this for a couple days. I apologize for not updating all of my online friends at the same time, but I had a couple of reasons. The first is that I wanted to post a dorky picture of me holding my positive home pregnancy tester stick here, and since I can't find the cord which connects my camera to my computer, I've been held up. Also, it's still quite early, and I feel as though shouting this pregnancy from the rooftops may jinx it.

Our first visit to the Dr's office is 10-7 (which is apparently just to have bloodwork done and to get my information packet from the OB nurse). Our first Dr's visit - when we get to listen to the heartbeat for the first time! - is 10-21. So as time creeps on, I am growing more and more confident that I won't jinx myself, after all.

We are so excited! Matt is a huge bundle of nerves, but that's my hubby for you. I'm starting to wonder what Avery's reaction will be when this baby is born and he discovers that I have not just given birth to his two-year-old cousin. I think we may just spend the next 7+ months clarifying the situation.

"Teghan baby"

2009-09-14T18:35:00.003-05:00

***Have you ever tried to do a photo session of just you and someone else using a camera that has a little weight distribution problem (don't get me wrong, I LOVE my D60, but trying to just point it at yourself at arm's length is exremely difficult!)?

Anyway, I'm getting a little off the topic. Matt and I have been talking to Avery for the past six months or so about how he'd feel about having a little baby brother or sister. So far, he's really excited about the whole idea! (Not that we have news for y'all, because we don't YET.) And when asked if he'd like a baby brother or a baby sister, he states very emphatically, "I want a Teghan baby."

Teghan is Avery's cousin, whom he doesn't get to see often. She lives in Nebraska with her mommy and my in-laws. But the few occasions he's been able to bond with Teghan, he's loved every moment of it. Yes, part of that time is spent being the older (by three months) bully. But the majority of it was wonderful! At least from the mama's perspective...

My loving husband has only sisters - his own, whose name is also Megan, and my two, Danielle and Jessica. He has seen for himself the drama and mood swings that come along with having females in a household. Because of this, he has proclaimed that he will never have a girl - he even states he doesn't "make girls." Mmm hmmm. Yup. His "swimmers only make boys."

Well, Matthew, I have my heart set on a girl. And yes, as long as the baby is healthy I truly don't care about the sex. But darn it, if your negative attitude is the only thing keeping us from getting sugar and spice and everything nice, I'm gonna be a mama with one huge chip on her shoulder.

And trust me, you don't wanna cross this mama.

How many ways do YOU eat blueberries?

2009-08-27T10:03:00.008-05:00

Okay, so they're a "super fruit." The antioxidants in them provide a human body with all sorts of healthy goodness. But aside from all the health benefits, they're just plain yummy.

Avery and I have spent the summer eating them in yogurt with granola, warmed in oatmeal with brown sugar, and straight out of the fridge whenever we're in need of a bite-sized snack.

Fresh blueberries are expensive if you purchase them from the local grocery stores here, though! We had been treating ourselves to a pint every other week or so, which was costing us approximately 3-4 dollars a pint. When you consider how many you can pop into your mouth in a sitting, they sure don't last long.

Then, during a visit to Sam's Club for our industrial-sized box of diapers, I spotted the Holy Grail of fresh fruit: a 2 pound tub of fresh blueberries for the low, low price of $4.99! That was two weeks ago, and we've had beautiful, delectable blueberries coming out our ears ever since.

The tub contents dwindled until I just barely had two cups of slightly softening berries left. So this morning I decided to bake something delicious with the remainder.

Great-Grandma's Blueberry Muffins

* 1/4 C Butter or Crisco (I used Crisco because I wanted my muffins light golden brown. Butter tends to brown them more.)
* 1 1/4 C. Sugar
* 1 Large Egg
* 3 3/4 C. Flour
* 1 Tbsp. Baking Powder
* 1/2 Tsp. Cinnamon
* 1 C. Milk
* 2 C. Blueberries

Topping:
* 1/4 C. Flour
* 1/2 C. Sugar
* 1/2 C. Butter, cold and cut into chunks (I used the real thing this time!)

1. With an electric mixer, barely blend butter and sugar.

2. Add egg.

3. Mix dry ingredients and add to butter mixture alternately with milk.

4. Fold in blueberries.

5. Sprinkle with topping.
Topping: Using a fork or pastry cutter, mix ingredients until all the flour and sugar have adhered to the butter.

(I don't know what kind of mammouth muffin pan my great-grandmother used, but this recipe states that it yields 8 muffins. If you use a regular muffin tin, you should get about 20.)

Bake at 350 degress for 20-30 minutes until tops are just golden brown.

ENJOY!

Mine! Mine! Mine!

2009-08-25T09:45:00.006-05:00

I alluded to the fact that Avery may have some issues with sharing.

So this book really caught my eye. (I don't know who Amazon is kidding. $45 plus shipping for this book new? And used copies starting at $28 plus shipping? I guess we really got a good deal at $1.99!)

Anyway, I'd like to confess something: I'm a sucker for rhyming. Add to that some cute dinosaurs and a very good lesson, and I'm really sold.

I love the crazy, unbalanced look in his eyes. His mama is NOT proud of this moment.

As if that first display wasn't bad enough, he then steals everyone's snacks. (I'd have probably thought about stealing the scones, too. Man, those babies are delicious!)

In the pages to follow, somehow this selfish, wacky guy learns his lesson, though.

I'm sure his mama is breathing a huge sigh of relief.

Books, books, books

2009-08-20T09:22:00.003-05:00

Oh, how we LOVE books!

Well, I should clarify. Avery and I LOVE books...Avery's daddy - not so much. I'm okay with it, though. If I can't convert my husband, I'm at least going to make sure my children appreciate all the wonderful, out-of-this-world, imagination-tickling places books can take us.

A couple weeks ago, Avery and I stopped by Savers and spent the majority of our time searching for books that would appeal to a 2 1/2 year-old. We found some real winners! And not only did we get a great deal (eight hardcover books for less than $2.00 a piece), but they have really become some of our favorites.

In my next posts, I'm going to share them with you. And we're going to start today with my favorite out of the bunch, "Five Nice Mice" presented by Chisato Thashiro, translated from the Japanese by Sayako Uchida, and adapted by Kate Westerlund. (Phew! Jennifer, if I didn't do that correctly, please look away now and pretend I was never your student!)

Not only is this story adorable -- I mean, come on, mice and frogs??? How could it not be cute? -- but the pictures are endearing, too. Here, I'll show you!

Now, I'm not going to tell you the whole story, but here are a few of the highlights:

In this scene, the mice have just come from a concert performed by frogs, and have been inspired to start a band. They hunt around for items to transform into instruments. See the can of tomatoes and the pencils? They're my favorite.

The completed instruments! They practice very hard so they can put on their own concert. Don't you just love the lollipop drumsticks?

Near the end, mice and frogs have joined together to make beautiful music.

This one is Avery's favorite. They played so long and so hard, they just wore themselves out!

By the way, this book is part of Dolly Parton's Imagination Library. Just in case that matters to you.

Tomorrow: "The Mine-O-Saur" by Sudipta Bardhan-Quallen and illustrated by David Clark. Betcha can't guess my reasons for buying this one! The fact that this has become Avery's favorite could be taken two ways: either a) it is seeping into his little brain, switching a little lightbulb on in the sharing department of his brain, or b) he IS the Mine-O-Saur.

Let's hope for the first option, shall we?

Lessons learned

2009-08-09T08:24:00.003-05:00

Sounds like I'm going to share some kind of changed-my-life-forever life lesson, doesn't it?

Nope!

I'm referring to Avery's first swimming lesson, which was last Thursday evening at our local YMCA. You see, my boy is in love with water. We inflate his little floaties, put them on his arms, and in the time it takes you to uncap the sunscreen, Avery is already jumping off the dock and into the lake.

Because of this passion for water, Matt and I decided now is the perfect time to start some actual swimming lessons (lessons that go way beyond our, "Move your arms! Kick your legs! You're paddling just like a little puppy!"). We thought we'd capitalize on this situation, before Avery would have a chance to develop any sort of fear of water; large bodies of water, large fish, etc.

As it turns out, a child can't be enrolled into a swimming class on his own until he's three. (Do you see where this is going?) Which means that one of the loving adults in his life get to sign up with him, and accompany him in the pool. Did I mention this is SWIMMING LESSONS? And it requires a person to WEAR A SWIM SUIT?

I think I've become a fairly rational, level-headed adult. But the thought of donning a swim suit in front of other (slimmer, more glamorous) adults just about put me into panic mode. I trudged into the YMCA Thursday evening, though. I knew my little tadpole would benefit from these lessons, and I'm a mama, first and foremost.

Surprise! There were mamas just like me! Granted, there were some who were definitely slimmer, more glamorous, and just plain lovely, but I was so focused on the instructors and their lesson, I didn't have time to worry about how my thighs jiggled or how my post-pregnancy belly was still MIA.

And my little tadpole? Well, let's just say after having the freedom to do as he liked in the water at the lake, he had a slight problem with authority. At the end of the lesson, however, the instructors allowed the children to jump off the edge of the pool into their Mommy or Daddy's arms. Talk about leaving on a good note!

Three more classes to get through...then this winter after his birthday, he can be enrolled in a class on his own. Much as I hate to admit it, I think I'll breathe a sigh of relief knowing I don't have to squeeze into my swimsuit and accompany him in the public pool again.

SUM*MER

2009-08-03T11:24:00.003-05:00

(Please excuse the food on my child's face. We were at the park, and after a picnic lunch there, excitement trumps manners.)

I love this season...almost as much as I enjoy autumn. I can't wait to try capturing all the rich, glorious colors it has to offer.

For now, though, we are perfectly happy to bask in all the sunshine, warmth, and all that is green.

The proof's in the puddin'

2009-07-23T08:37:00.003-05:00

I've denied my moderate road rage for quite some time. Most often, this occurs when my entire little family is in the car while I'm driving (usually as my husband reaches defensively toward his seat belt, making sure it is as secure as it should be).

I honestly felt that I was justified in my clever comments aimed at other vehicles on the road. I mean really, when the light is green, that means GO! If someone out there is trying to make a left turn out of a straight-bound lane, any law-abiding citizen should be letting them know of their mistake. And if there is an extremely rare horn honk now and then? They just deserved it, gosh darn it!

Here's the problem, though. Avery and I have been in the car together quite a bit lately (without my overly-dramatic, argumentative husband). The past three times my son and I have been in the car, stopped at a red light (with cars ahead of us), I've heard this statement hollered from the back seat:

"GO, DUDE!"

Yeesh.

1. Who knew I sounded like a washed-up surfer?

2. I hate it when my husband's right!

Are you still there?

2009-07-14T09:22:00.005-05:00

I know it's been a very long time, but I'm here now!

Is anyone out there?

I won't even try to give you excuses about how busy I've been, how life has been complicated, or how a two-year-old can monopolize your time like nobody's business. Really...I won't. Or at least I'll try.

I'll just post some of my best photos from the last few months and hope you'll forget the fact that I abandoned you all.

I'm Still Here!

2009-03-24T16:39:00.002-05:00

Well, there's been an awful lot going on lately. The most dramatic thing going on would be the flooding. I think we've all heard enough about that lately that we don't need another dose from me.

The most exciting piece of news is that I got my dream camera for my birthday! Yay! My Nikon D60 is everything I could have hoped for! I've been out and about snapping photos...and hopefully will be able to post some of the decent ones on here soon.

I just thought I'd better make sure you all weren't planning to send out a search party for me. The move went all right, slow and painful, but it got done! And I can't tell you how happy I am to be out of a ground-level apartment considering the state of flood waters in this area!

I'll be back soon.

Farewell -- for the moment.

2009-02-10T14:02:00.004-06:00

I thought I'd better post an update since I'll be taking a hiatus from blogland. In the next week, I start a new, full-time job, Avery starts daycare, and we are moving. Phew! Are you as tuckered out as I am at the prospect of all that?

Our To-Do list is quite long, and I'm not sure how big of a priority it will be to reconnect the computer. Certainly it will come after setting up beds, unpacking clothes, and making Avery's toys and coloring books available to him. After all that, I may just be too pooped out to care about the computer. Then again, maybe I'll need an escape to blogland...so I may forget about the nightmares I'll be having about unmarked boxes containing items I don't recognize.

If you don't hear from me by March, please come looking. Perhaps I've packed myself.

Deuces Wild

2009-02-05T15:31:00.002-06:00

Hah! You have no idea how much it excited me to have a catchy title for this post!

My sweet baby is two today. Avery Jon Weatherby. We spent the morning at DinoLand in a nearby shopping mall. The sweet thing tuckered himself out, so he's napping right now. And that's fine by Mama...it gives me some time to sit and reminisce about the day he came into our lives.

My due date was February 12th. By February 1st (or even earlier...I remember thinking I would be ok with him being born the middle of January) I was convinced I was carrying the world's largest baby and was going to die trying to deliver him. I had one false alarm (I wish everyone knew what it was like to be sent home after rushing to the hospital because you thought it was The BIG Moment) a couple days before the real BIG Moment. By the last four weeks, I couldn't eat comfortably, I couldn't breathe comfortably, and I couldn't sleep comfortably. And I was downright mean. That's what happens to a woman who's sleep deprived and can't even look at milk without getting heartburn.

Then, on the night of February 4th, I started to have some mild contractions. At about 5 a.m., I called the labor and delivery nurse, let her know what was going on, and was instructed to take some Tylenol and try to get some sleep. I took a warm bath and the Tylenol, but sleep just wasn't possible. By about 7, my poor, overwhelmed husband had me in the car and on the way to the hospital.

I would like it to go on record that I believe wholeheartedly that this child's main purpose in life is to test my patience.

Once at the hospital, my contractions started to come less frequently. My labor and delivery nurse said that unless I wanted to go home and wait for things to progress more, I should do whatever exercises I could to make things start happening again. I squatted, I walked, I did nipple stimulation (ARGH!!)...to which my child responded, from the comfort of my womb, "No thanks, I think I'll hang here awhile longer."

Thank the heavens above for my doctor. He walked in, asked me if I was ready to have this baby, to which I exclaimed an emphatic, "YES!" By 10:30 I was getting pitocin through my iv. And let me tell you, Mama-to-be was pleased. That is, until the contractions started to get fierce. I'd like you all to know that I never did Lamaze, or any other breathing technique class. Nor did I have an epidural. I'm told this is rare when inducing is involved.

I clenched my teeth so hard I thought they'd snap off in my mouth. I hissed deep breaths in and out. At 1:14 p.m. I was given permission to start pushing. Seven minutes later, at 1:21, my baby boy was born. Avery Jon Weatherby. All 9 lbs. 3 oz. of him. His poor face was bruised from his travels through the birth canal (darn gigantic Weatherby head). His screams let us know how angry he was with us for forcing his arrival. But, oh! What a sight he was! How happy Mama and Daddy were to have him there with us!

We discovered later that due to his large size, his collar bone was broken during delivery. At his first check-up, we also found out he has a heart murmur (more than just a heart murmur, really. An ASD {atrial septal defect} and VSD {ventricular septal defect}...which has been monitored and may eventually need repair). But we wouldn't have him any other way.

Avery, the joy you bring to my life in unquestionable and immeasurable. I adore every moment we spend together, whether I'm arguing with you about why you can't perch on the arm of the couch like a daredevil, or you're throwing your yogurt cup across the room, or you're sleeping peacefully in my arms.

You are loved, sweet boy. Happy Birthday.

Excused Absence

2009-01-28T08:58:00.003-06:00

I'd like to think that you'll pardon my absence lately. It's been an interesting few weeks, and one of these days I'll explain more thoroughly. But not today. Today is for other topics.

Topic I
We are FINALLY moving out of our apartment! Well, technically not until March 1st, but that date is quickly approaching. We (My mother, husband, Avery, and I -- I'll explain later, remember?) found a beautiful, brand new, split-level home in a 4-plex in South Fargo. I think it's classified as a townhome, but when I picture a townhome, I see a tall, three-floored structure that's crammed into a row of about 12 units. This is more like a twinhome, it just happens to be in a row of four. Maybe I shall call it our quadhome. As soon as I'm able to snap a few photos, I'll post them.

Topic II
I have a job interview on Friday! Before Matt and I were married, I was a medical receptionist. I loved it. And now that Avery is nearly two, we've decided he should be interacting with kids more. Plus, with this new home comes new expenses, and new expenses meant a headache unless we brought in some additional income. So Mama gets to go back to work full time (and hopefully as a medical receptionist again -- that's what the interview Friday is for)! And I'm happy to say I'm excited about that prospect. With the few part-time jobs I've had over the last few years, I've come to realize that there are more dead-end, mind-numbing jobs than I care to know about. Except that now I do know about them...or at least a couple of them. And I've decided: I want nothing to do with them. Or their puny paychecks.

Topic III
Avery will be two in two weeks! My baby is getting so big. And he's got more personality in his little fingers than some adults have in their entire being. Trust me on this. Or come meet him. You'll see.
On a related topic, I've got baby fever -- and I've got it bad. I told my dear, loving husband that by this time next year, we'll be working on having another. Mark my words.

Reflections of Melodramatic Megan

2009-01-17T21:04:00.003-06:00

So I'm 3/4 finished with my second glass of wine.

And I'm listening to Eric Clapton's "Stormy Monday" on Pandora, along with similar moody, blues-y type songs.

And I'm feeling a little introspective.

And a little pessimistic.

And here are my thoughts:

1. How realistic are wedding vows? Specifically: "Until death do us part."

2. What a waste of 25+ years. (Obviously I'm not referencing my own wedding vows.)

3. What will life be like from now on?

I don't seem to have the patience to type out a more detailed or rational explanation of what's going on right now. Hopefully I'll get a better grasp on it all in the next few days and be able to express more eloquently what's developing.

We've Been Busy

2009-01-09T13:23:00.004-06:00

As you can see, we've been busy with a few things around here. Tattoos, toilet training (which is slow, at its best), and eating stuff. And not just any old stuff. Yes, there's the usual crayon here and there. But in addition, almost a week ago now, this kid swallowed a nickel -- or at least I'd have bet good money that he had. As the days went by, and I found no coins in the dirty diapers, I started to think maybe I had just imagined Avery gagging and then swallowing hard...and then coming up a nickel short on the 15 cent deposit into his piggy bank.

But alas! Today I opened the average smelly diaper, and there it was! I'll spare you the photo I so badly wanted to take. But let me just tell you it didn't look like it does now when it went in.

I thought we were getting past this "Everything must go in my mouth!" stage. Evidently I was wrong.

You title it - Part One

2008-12-30T14:00:00.005-06:00

****I thought I was doing quite well coping with the changes that have occurred in my family over the years. Turns out, all it takes is a little reminder, and I'm back where it all began. I've attempted previously to put this all down on paper, and after reading Jennifer's post yesterday, I took them out to try and finish one. After deciding they were inadequate, I started this one, and so far it's given me what I wanted. I just can't seem to come up with a title I'm happy with.****

One autumn day, during an especially grueling beet harvest, my father had a heart attack. I was in the seventh grade that year, and he was just 42. He’d been feeling some arm pain and thought it was caused by his bum shoulder, which was constantly getting dislocated. Dad's remedy for this had always been to ram his shoulder against a door frame in our house, or to use one of his seldom-used dress belts as a sling until he had time to set it back in place.

The details of how my father actually got to the hospital are a little foggy. All I know for certain is that after school that day, I met my sisters at our town's grocery store (which was owned by our maternal grandmother); where my paternal grandparents picked us up to take us to the hospital in Fargo.

When we got there, Dad was sitting up in his hospital bed, looking a little strange in his gown and mussed hair, but wearing his usual smile and joking around with us. I don't really remember how long he was there, or glimpsing any sign of fear in him, but I was old enough to realize a heart attack was serious business, no matter how minor my parents told us it was.

Once Dad was home, Mom sat my sisters and me down to talk to us about the changes that needed to take place. According to her, Dad had three strikes against him; he was a smoker, he had a very stressful job, and he ate terribly. Mom said we were all going to have to work together to try and change each of those things, and to make it a little easier for Dad to stick to them. She told us we had to start eating healthier, which would include a lot of chicken and fish, Dad was going to have to quit smoking - and she was going to try, too - and that he'd likely have to figure something else out for a career.

I couldn't imagine any of this. There are few things that stick out more clearly in my mind than my father smoking. Every morning, my sisters and I would wake up, pick out our clothes, and start the descent down the stairs of our home. Halfway down, we'd encounter a wall of smoke, created by my father as he downed a pot of coffee with his cigarettes each and every day. Sunday and Monday evenings were strictly for watching football, and I can recall many nights spent sitting on my father's lap, hearing the click of his lighter, the sizzle of tobacco and paper being sucked aflame, and the deep inhale and exhales of that putrid smoke, while the Vikings played on the television. The only thing that interrupted the up/down motion of my father's cigarette to his mouth was the up/down motion of potato chips to his mouth. Pepsi quenched his thirst, and if ever he offered me a sip, I could always taste cigarettes and salt on the rim of the can.

Suddenly, suppers consisted of baked cod, lemon pepper chicken, and steamed vegetables without butter or salt. My mother is an amazing cook, but far too often, she would get distracted from her cooking and the meat would wind up resembling fish or chicken jerky. Where was the homemade pizza? Where was the beef stroganoff? Even the milk was different! Instead of 2%, my mother was now purchasing Calci-Skim, which tasted like chalky water to my sisters and me.

During one of these uncomfortable suppers, my father told us that he was going to quit farming. He was going to sell his half of the farming operation to his brother, Kevin, and was planning to take a job at our local Case-IH dealer working in their parts department. His eyes were so sad. Farming was the only thing my father knew. But he tried to appeal to us all by telling us that this meant he'd have more regular hours. Rather than staying home to plant, combine, or repair broken machinery, he'd now be able to take us to the lake cabin more often, make it to our sports events, and be around in the evenings if we needed help with homework.

For a while, things were looking pretty promising. Dad got the job selling parts, and seemed to like it well enough. He had always been a very quiet man, so the smile we saw on his face each day was all we had for reference. He had quit smoking, he was eating the healthy meals my mother made, and his new job certainly was less stressful than farming.

My mother only lasted a few days - maybe a week - on her path to quit smoking. When my sisters and I confronted her, she said something along the lines of, "I'm not the one who needs to do it, your father is. I was just going to try with him, but I decided I'm not ready yet." And a few months down the road, we noticed that in the evenings Dad was coming up from his woodworking room in the basement smelling like cigarettes. No one said a word. We knew how much life had changed for Dad in these last months, and though we disagreed with what he was doing, we were certainly not going to tell him so. After a few weeks of this routine, however, Jessica, Danielle, and I spoke to our mother about what was going on. She told us that we should confront our father; tell him that if he loved us and wanted to live to see us grow up, that he would quit smoking for good. Danielle, the most brazen of us girls, walked up to him in the kitchen and told him just that through tear-filled eyes. My father just stared, his own eyes filling, then took her in his arms, hugged her, and told her everything would be all right.

Our Holiday in Photos

2008-12-30T08:26:00.004-06:00

First of all, I realized this Christmas what a hassle it is to have to rely on everyone else to take photos of all the special moments you'd like captured on film. I was constantly chasing down my mother and sisters to catch these fleeting events. Then, last night, I realized an even bigger problem. I got some decent pictures of my family during the holidays, but none of them were accessible to me! I begged and pleaded with Danielle to stop over so I could download (upload?) her photos to my computer. Jessica is still in Minneapolis, so hers will have to wait.

In the meantime, you'll have to be content with these. At least until I get that darn Kodak replaced with my dream camera, the Nikon D60. ***Hint hint, Matthew. My birthday's coming up, you know.***

My parents thoroughly enjoyed the calendar we made using ArtsCow (Thanks, Jennifer, for the idea!). I think it will have to become a Christmas tradition.

This is what you get when this kid is hopped up on sugar for the better part of 48 hours.

Daddy did a great job picking out gifts for Avery!

Or were they for Daddy? (Matt is modeling Avery's Army helmet and goggles. The gadget belt, which holds a mini shovel, compass, flashlight, and walkie-talkie was just a bit small.) They were holed up in that tent for a good long while.

That adorable little horse is Charmin. He was mine when I was Avery's age. My family didn't have a strange liking for bathroom tissue...my father once owned a real live horse he named Charmin.

Trust me when I tell you it's purple...

2008-12-18T14:59:00.004-06:00

Avery's new favorite hang-out is my kitchen cupboard. Luckily the only one with its child-proof latch broken off is the one that contains my plastic storage containers. I thought I'd catch this Kodak moment and post it for everyone's enjoyment. See that lovely frilly scarf around his neck? Yep - it's purple. It belongs to his daddy.

Ok, so I was joking. It's my scarf. But wouldn't it be funnier if it was Matt's?

By the way...did you notice his newly buzzed hair? Grandma's having a coronary as we speak.

What's for supper?

2008-12-18T11:37:00.004-06:00

I'll tell you what's for supper at our house! Baked beans and cornbread. Yummy.

Pioneer Woman has an amazing recipe for this fantastically filling food (like my alliteration?). But I wasn't really in the mood to spend a bunch of time in the kitchen today. Last night I made fried chicken, mashed potatoes, country gravy, and peas...and delicious as it was, I just wasn't willing to do that many dishes again.

So today I'd like to pass on the cheater's recipe for baked beans.

Shhhh. It calls for pre-cooked, canned beans. Don't tell your professional chef friends.

Oh yeah -- it also calls for hamburger. As Jennifer stated so eloquently, "Men Like Meat."

EASY Baked Beans

2 cans Lima or Butter Beans
1 can Pork & Beans
1 can Kidney Beans
1/2 lb. Hamburger
1/2 lb. Bacon
1 C. Onion, chopped
1 tsp. Dry Mustard
1 tsp. Salt
1 C. Ketchup
3/4 C. Brown Sugar
Drain lima and kidney beans. Brown hamburger, bacon, and onion and cook until nearly done. Add hamburger mixture to beans and spices. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hr 20 min, covered. ***Or, if you're like me, follow all directions, then throw the entire mixture into your crock pot. Cook on low for approximately 4 hrs.***

Your carnivores won't be disappointed!

Oh baby, it's cold outside!

2008-12-14T17:41:00.003-06:00

It is now nearly 6 pm. After a full day of not venturing outside to even run errands, you could say we're a little stir crazy...well, some more than others. Avery doesn't seem to care that he'd be knocked over by blowing snow and his tears of boredom/frustration would freeze on his little cherub face.

He just wants to get outside - NOW.

Sorry, kiddo, this what it's like to be snowed in.

Thank Goodness for Moms...

2008-12-13T11:21:00.004-06:00

Mine spent the day with me yesterday assisting while I worked on the gifts for my sisters.

Considering I've put these off until basically the last minute, I think they're coming along quite nicely now! Now if I can just get the other two finished before spring...

Mmmm...Cookies!

2008-12-10T16:18:00.003-06:00

I took Pioneer Woman's word that I had yet to find the best Christmas cookies. So I tried her recipe...and...WOW! To say they're wonderful is a definite understatement.

Now I'm not going to say mine are as pretty as hers. But I did discover we grew up with the same cookie cutters (If you look closely in my pics you can see the same Santa she used in her demo cookies).

Anyway, I thought I'd post some pictures to display my hard work baking this afternoon -- and to make you jealous that I have yummy Christmas cookies -- and, yes, I suppose to convince you to try the recipe, also. Because really, these things are just scrumptious.

Happy Holidays! It's really feeling (and smelling!) like Christmas in the Weatherby home.

We're feeling the Christmas spirit!

2008-12-07T08:25:00.005-06:00

I just couldn't imagine not having a tree up for the first Christmas Avery is really excited about. So Matt went out to the garage last night (in 4 degree weather) and hauled our Martha Stewart clearance special in, after some persistent nagging on my part.

By the time we got it assembled, fluffed (because that's what you have to do to fake trees after they've been in a box for a year), strung with lights, and decorated, Matt and I were sufficiently frustrated. All we are supposed to have to do is put the three sections of tree together, then plug it into the wall...and WHOILA! "Ooohs" and "Aahs" that took only minutes to achieve! However, try as we might, we could only get two of the three sections to light up.

So if you stop by the Weatherby residence this Christmas, don't get too close to the tree, otherwise you'll be able to see all the bulbs that WILL NOT LIGHT UP. And Mr. and Mrs. Weatherby would rather not be reminded of this issue.

All in all, I think it turned out quite nice. Even after stringing a couple of strands of lights on, trying to strategically position the shatter-proof decorations on the lower section, and competing for assistance with televised college football, I'm still feeling optimistic.

That warm, hopeful feeling was multiplied a few times over this morning when I came out of the bedroom to see not a single decoration had been pulled off the tree by the cat. Plus, as soon as Avery saw it, he said this: "Wow, pretty!"

So far, so good!

The Gift Dilemma

2008-12-04T08:51:00.006-06:00

Ok, so after receiving some input (thanks, Jennifer!) about what to do about our gift opening professional, our wrapped Christmas gifts now have a temporary home.

See that pretty purple one next to the gigantic box of oatmeal? There is a little wagon filled with Lego-type blocks in that one. When I was still being silly (thinking he would leave the gifts alone if I just sat them in the middle of the living room), Avery tore it open and had blocks spread across the living room, dining room, kitchen, and bathroom. Uh huh. That'll be a fun one to clean up after every afternoon.

Oh, and see that plain white one that looks just like a shirt box with a green bow? Yeah, it is a shirt box. That's one of Matt's gifts - it mysteriously lost all its wrapping paper. And mommy was tired of re-wrapping, so it just got some tape to hold it shut and a bow.

And while we're discussing bows, have I ever mentioned we have a cat? If so, did I also mention he's the devil's own kitty? You see, he rips ornaments off our tree, and bats them around until they either A) break or B) get lost under the china hutch. Lovely. He also gnaws on wrapping paper and bows. Try to feel warm and fuzzy handing someone a gift that looks as though it was peppered by a shot gun at forty yards.

By the way, the 4th of July is my favorite holiday.

Hustle and Bustle

2008-12-02T15:04:00.003-06:00

It's December 2nd and I'm about 95% finished with my Christmas shopping! Yay!

December 15th is the deadline for a project I've had nagging at me for a couple of months now...Emmeline aprons for Jessica and Danielle's birthday gifts. I'm also planning to make one for myself and one for my mother - they're just so dang cute, after all!

I'm not exactly sure what we're going to do about a tree and gifts this year. Avery has already ripped open two of his presents that we brought back from Thanksgiving in Nebraska (Grandma and Grandpa Weatherby have excellent taste!). He also managed to tear apart one of Matthew's presents. So I'm under the impression that we're just asking for trouble if we put wrapped gifts under our tree - if we even put up our full-sized tree. That's the other dilemma. Tree or no tree. I have this terrible feeling that if we put it up, we will have no ornaments left by the end of this holiday season. And even if we do as my mother-in-law suggested and only decorate the top half, I am afraid Avery would just yank the entire thing down on him trying to reach them.

What do you think? Tree or no tree? Wrapped gifts under the tree? Wrap the gifts and let them sit in the closet until Christmas Eve (this one gets my vote).

I just can't wait until Christmas morning, watching my little one excitedly rushing from one gift to another, surrounded by people who love him so deeply.

23 days and counting...

Oh my...

2008-11-21T13:03:00.002-06:00

My cousin, Chris, seems to be quite the resource when it comes to interesting YouTube videos. This one will have you in a fit of giggles...I promise.

Pay special attention to his very intense eyes. Oh goodness. I'm giggling now trying to write about it.

Montgomery Flea Market

Enjoy.

Shepherd's Pie, Newborn Hats, and Laundry

2008-11-19T00:44:00.003-06:00

Those are the three most blog-worthy items from my day.

1. Shepherd's Pie. I'd never made it before today. But what's not to like? Steaming hot veggies (corn, carrots, onion, and peas) and ground beef in a savory gravy topped with creamy mashed potatoes. Mmm mmmmmmm. And did I mention how much I love meals that can be served out of one dish? I do. I love them a lot. If you understood how vehemently I despise doing dishes, you'd comprehend this kind of love.

2. Newborn Hats. Not just for any newborn, either. Read this to find out more. I've never done anything that took much thought or effort when it comes to doing something for the benefit of others. I follow the SouleMama blog. I also adore Ree's blog, Confessions of a Pioneer Woman. Check them out, you won't be sorry. Anyway, the point is, both of these women have been focusing on what living conditions are like in Haiti. And so, after reading and learning more, I couldn't help but want to participate somehow. So I made half a dozen newborn hats from shirts that have been hanging - unworn - in my closet for who knows how long, and sent them off to Amanda Soule.

At a time of year when we're supposed give special thanks for loved ones, good health, and good fortune, I feel infinitely better knowing that someone out there may place a hat - sewn on my mother's sewing machine - on a tiny newborn's head and be grateful for it being there.

3. Laundry. Sweet Lord, the laundry. I did SEVEN loads of it today. And it's still not all done. I realize laundry is not a new concept. But I honestly think I deserve a little sympathy here. My nearly two-year-old boy pees, poops, and drops globs of food on his clothes almost hourly (okay, slight exaggeration, but you get the idea). But my husband! He's nearly as bad! Every morning, the love of my life wakes, showers, puts on a clean pair of boxers, undershirt, work shirt, jeans, and socks. He goes off, earns his day's wage, and returns home. Once inside the door, he throws his work shirt, undershirt, jeans, and socks on the floor, showers, and puts on FRESH boxers, t-shirt, and shorts...which he wears for approximately 4-5 hours. At bed time, he strips off the t-shirt and shorts, sleeping only in his boxers (I promise, y'all, this is as naughty as it's gonna get).

In the morning, we start this process all over again. And do you think he can wear the same shorts and t-shirt he wore the previous night again? No way! You see, after they were taken off, they were thrown on the floor. That's where the cat lays. So they're covered in cat hair. And we can't wear clothes that have cat hair on them. Sheesh.

The Kodak is Kaput

2008-11-11T11:38:00.003-06:00

Yup - that's right.

Obviously I've been talking too much lately about replacing my EasyShare. I also probably shouldn't have spoken about Avery being obsessed with the camera and seeing himself in photos.

Today, while I was working on my Libby's Pumpkin Roll in the kitchen, Avery decided to be a photographer. This wouldn't have been so bad if, upon discovery of this situation, I hadn't turned on the camera to check it, seeing a partially black screen. The remainder of the screen, I might add, is now made up of criss-crossing gray lines, a couple of red and blue streaks, and a pulsating light.

I guess we're getting that new camera sooner rather than later.

Cheese!

2008-11-07T09:20:00.003-06:00

Hm...I may have created a monster. Let me explain.

I try to take lots of photos. Mostly they are of random stuff, usually trying to catch something or someone in the midst of doing something without my direction. But then there are times when my child is doing something completely uninteresting: picking his nose, or digging in the back of his pants (let's not discuss that last one). These are the times when, if I'm in the mood to photograph, I'll try to get Avery to pose. In these instances, I tell him to "Say cheese!" and he eagerly obliges. After all, the kid has a steamy love affair with the stuff (cheese, not photography).

Things have gotten slightly out of control lately, though. When we're through with our posing photo session, I'll set my camera down, either on the kitchen table or desk. Next thing I know, my smarty-pants kid is picking it up, repeating "pitch-ah, pitch-ah, pitch-ah."

Cute, right?

Next comes him handing me back the camera, now repeating "cheese, cheese, cheese!" So I relent, taking yet MORE pictures of him, adding to the hundreds I've previously taken.

You'd think that would be the end, wouldn't you? Well, you'd be wrong.

You see, this is where my adorable little boy becomes a monster. He has to SEE every photo you take - especially if it's of him. He gets such joy out of seeing pictures of himself...even going so far as to kiss himself in some of the ones we have framed.

I'm hoping this is only a phase; that he'll grow out of this just like he WILL grow out of throwing his sippy cup at the cat, mashing buttons on our cell phones, and repeating every word he knows a zillion times (usually words like juice, apple, cracker, etc. And fortunately he stops eventually...most often when I finally give in and let him have what he wants.).

Anyway, until he finally decides he's seen enough pictures of himself, we'll have all sorts of photos like these littering our camera's memory card.

And honestly, there are much worse things to look at each day. Danged adorable monster that he is.

I voted!

2008-11-05T07:34:00.003-06:00

Okay. I'm about to reveal a slightly shameful side of myself. Prepare yourselves. Take a deep breath, and clear your mind.

Until last night, I had NEVER voted. Phew. Thank goodness that's off my conscience! But wait! Let me explain!

You see, my opinion on voting, especially during a presidential election, has always been based on the idea that it's better to not vote at all than to vote for a candidate you know nothing about. I can honestly tell you I've paid very minimal attention to every campaign I've ever witnessed - until this one. Even if I had climbed under a rock and spent the last year holding my hands over my ears, I think somehow I'd have felt the stir in the air. The prospect of change, while our country has been in such a dire economic situation, and strained in a time of war, has sent little electricity-charged vibes through the air in America.

These vibes have touched hordes of people who previously had never ventured to the polls; people who had never taken a serious interest in the outcome of an election. Whatever one might say about our new president, that in itself is an astounding revelation.

Never before had I been able to bask in the tingly excitement that follows such a powerful experience. I think I'll just sit and enjoy this for a few more moments.

Good day to you, America!

Madonna and the Gerks

2008-11-04T08:16:00.007-06:00

Gerk: noun - slang.
1. a cross between a dork and a geek.
(Or so the Weatherby Imaginary Dictionary states)

~So this is what our Halloween looked like this year.

The view from above while I made Danielle's costume. Nice, eh?

Finished product. Pretty darn good, if I must say so myself! Let it be known: birthday party hats work quite well as torpedo-like boobies! Oh! And fusible interfacing can be stapled and taped into something resembling a bustier (It was all I had laying around at 2:30 on Friday...when Danielle had to be at a Halloween/Surprise Birthday Party by 5pm). And the interfacing even lends a nice sheen to the get-up!

By the way, after one of my most recent posts, Madonna vs. Sarah Palin, don't you find this photo quite ironic? Apparently many bar-goers that evening found it quite hilarious too, as they were asked many times to take photos with random people.

Here's my other sister, Jessica, and her boyfriend, Chad, dressed up as Ron Burgundy and Veronica Corningstone from "Anchorman." Everyone thought Jessica was Marilyn Monroe...she obviously didn't have a talented costume designer helping her out this year - hehe. Oh yeah...Sarah Palin is my sisters' best friend (Jenna) from high school. Her birthday is on Halloween, and a bunch of her friends and boyfriend threw her a surprise birthday party (not at the bar...just in case you were wondering).

And now that I'm looking at these photos again, I can't help but wonder: What's up with some of the facial expressions?! I'm thinking they are the result of too many Spooky Shots, Sex on the Haunted Beaches, Oogly-Googly Beers, and Monster Martinis.

About nothing in particular...

2008-11-01T10:36:00.002-05:00

Our computer decided to plant its feet firmly in the Land of Noncompliance last week. Fortunately, we were able to threaten it into submission: A new computer is on The List for tax return purchases.

Anyway, this should mean I've got oodles and oodles to say. I mean, I've been without blogland for nearly two weeks! Yet I seem to be struggling for juicy bits to throw your way.

Yesterday was Halloween. Avery was a pumpkin. Not too exciting, but it was hand-me-down and since he's still not really into this particular annual event (he's not quite two), we just decided to go the easy route. I did, however, do something rather creative for Matt and I. I saw an episode of Martha Stewart earlier this week, and she demonstrated how to make paper wigs. Mine was of the curly variety (with orange and pink paper), and Matt's was supposed to turn out like a mullet, but it ended up looking more like a 60's outward flip with some crazy bangs (done in green, yellow, and black paper). His reminded me of the Jamaican flag, so I kept begging him to speak with that accent all night - he never gave in though. I'll try to get a picture of both of us in them to post later on.

My mother-in-law called last night, wanting gift ideas from us for Christmas. Ugh. All this did was remind me that I still have virtually 50% still to do on her quilt. And now that Thanksgiving is creeping closer, I know time will just vanish, and I'll probably be scrambling to finish the darn thing til wee hours of the morning, days before we head down to celebrate Christmas with them (wow - what a lengthy sentence that was!). Ok. That said, I think I feel guilty enough to cut this short and get crackin' on it now.

See ya!

Kickin' Ass

2008-10-16T13:48:00.004-05:00

I don't mind telling you that for the first time, I'm paying fairly close attention to a presidential election. I watched the first presidential debate and the vice-presidential debate (only missing the second and third presidential ones because I wasn't home - I caught up a little online after each).

There's just something about the way Sarah Palin spoke during the VP debate that rubbed me wrong. Yes, I had already decided I agreed more with Obama's economic plan, so I was already leaning toward that side. But why does a woman think she needs to "dumb it down" in order to appeal to the general population? Her "gosh darnit" "darn tootin'" phrases made me think we'd gone to the remotest of hills in West Virginia, found us an uneducated mama of a dozen kids, polished her up, and threw her on stage with Senator Biden. I know, I know. Maybe I'm being unfair. But what's wrong with winning over the American voters with dialogue that matches her intelligence level?

I suppose now would be the time to mention that regardless of her debate tactics, I think she could bring a number of positive things to the country. Her pregnant teenage daughter would certainly focus more attention on that particular problem. Having her as our VP would also force our nation to respect intelligent women more, as well. However, her stance on gay and lesbian unions is one I cannot get behind. All in all, it is my opinion that the negatives outweigh the positives for the McCain/Palin party.

Anyway, I came across something today that made me laugh - hysterically! As we all know, this is pretty serious campaign, "gosh darnit." Leave it to Madonna to provide us with a dose of much needed ridiculousness as we prepare to go to the polls.

Madonna vs. Sarah Palin

Let Avery welcome you...

2008-10-13T01:07:00.003-05:00

To his newly acquired Land 'O' Fun!

Grandpa and Grandpa visited from Nebraska last weekend, and HOLY TOLEDO did our child make off like a bandit! This immense structure now takes up nearly half of our living room. But what great timing. With the weather as yucky and rainy as it's been, I've found it's mighty handy to have a mini-park at your disposal for unwanted additional toddler energy!

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
While Matt's parents were here, we also ventured out to one of the pumpkin/haunted farms - with the intention of picking a couple of pumpkins to carve. Apparently family activities only take place during daylight hours on Sundays, and we drove the twenty or so miles on a Saturday (I wasn't particularly impressed, if you can't tell). So, unfortunately we were greeted by only a couple of friendly dogs and some festive decor. Some was smile-inducing for a small child, some was...not.

Picture This.

2008-10-07T10:56:00.009-05:00

Okay, so I really don't have anything for you to picture. It was just the snazziest title I could come up with. And it relates to my topic today, really, it does!

I've decided that I'm tired of trying to make our Kodak EasyShare C643 take pictures it's incapable of taking. I try to get really cool close-up photos, and the darn thing wags its red, Blurred Image signal at me. Well, phooey on you, Ms. C643 (I determined this camera must be female because if it were male, I'd surely have been able to trick it into compliance by now). If any of you are familiar with this camera, you would probably understand why it appealed to us initially. It is SO easy to use - for dummies like us, who were buying our first digital camera, there were certainly no headaches when first learning how to use it. A little hand on the screen appears after you've snapped the photo to let you know how it turned out. Green = good quality picture. Yellow = acceptable, but not perfect. Red = blurry or poorly lit photo. I mean really, how simple could it be?

I've learned something, however, in the two years we've owned this camera: Easy does not mean best quality! Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that we need a new camera. I've done a little research on better quality cameras, and have narrowed my field of possibilities down to three (I think. Unless you all have any other suggestions).

--The Nikon D40

--The Nikon D80

--And the Sony Alpha 10.2

Now, I've read some reviews. Some were posted on the Best Buy or Wal-Mart site, and the others were posted here. So far, I'm leaning towards the Nikon D40. It is much more advanced than our Kodak - obviously. It also isn't so high tech that it will be difficult to use. At least, that's what I'm reading. I also don't want something that is so clunky it will make me not want to take photos as often.

So, there it is. Now I'd like your input. If you own any of these cameras, or you'd like to offer up another suggestion, I'm all ears.

Farewell

2008-10-01T13:06:00.005-05:00

Jessica leaves for Minneapolis this week. For good. Ohhhh. Hummmph. Jeesh.

She's the middle sister. The one who would rather say nothing than hurt anyone. The one who lets her older and younger sisters have it out with each other and anyone else, but calmly and reasonably points out if you're in the wrong. The one who makes sure she always tells everyone she loves how she feels about them (Oh goodness, I think I'm tearing up). How on earth will we settle an argument without her?

She's going to be a teacher, this sister of mine. Since she's been in school, there have been a large number of projects I've stayed up assisting with until all hours of the night. I've proofread countless papers, lent a sometimes helpful hand with poetry homework, and colored and cut out hundreds of flashcards for in-class games perfect for elementary children. I'd do it all again in an instant. The hours spent with her, realizing her intelligence, filling in where she may fall short in understanding something, learning something unexpectedly new from her...it has certainly been a win for both sides.

She's been staying with us off and on for the last month. In that time I've seen her display unending patience, willingness to educate while disciplining, and the sheer joy she gets out of interacting with Avery. Any child will be extremely fortunate to have her as his/her teacher.

But darn it - why does she have to move away? Well, it's quite simple really. Chad, her beau of about four years, lives in Minneapolis - was born and raised there. He graduated a year and a half ahead of Jessica and has established himself in his field of expertise - business and marketing. There were also many more student teaching opportunities in that area. And most likely, when the two of them finally marry (it's only a matter of time, after all), they'll settle in a nice little house somewhere in the suburbs of Minneapolis/St. Paul.

Oh, how Avery will miss his "Acah" (the ending two syllables of her name). Sure, there will be trips home as often as she can manage...for holidays and such. And yes, surely we'll travel there once in a while to see her, too. But it's just not the same.

Just look at them together.

Avery was sort of in trouble at this moment. But look at her. You'd take her seriously if you were an eight-year-old misbehaving, wouldn't you?

And really, how can she leave this boy?

A walk that should have taken place years ago...

2008-09-24T10:20:00.003-05:00

I've lived in or near Fargo, ND all my life. Years ago, young people would "cruise" the streets downtown - especially Broadway. Even before the downtown revitalization took place, the ancient, crumbly charm of downtown Fargo drew in persons of every age, background, and social standing.

I remember my husband telling stories about how he'd take his '64 Ford Fairlane cruising the streets of Broadway with friends in the passenger and back seats. They'd stop to hang out at Billiards on Broadway, drive in search of "hot chicks," or hoping to work off some extra testosterone by picking a fight. That street holds a special place in his adolescent heart, which is tucked safely away until an opportunity presents itself, when he can bring it forward, releasing its teenage secrets. There are some sketchy details that sometimes surface when he really gets on a roll with his story-telling, but mostly they're pretty innocent teenage escapades.

Downtown Fargo has always held a certain Bohemian, other-worldly, run-down sort of charm in my eyes. That said, I've never actually seen all that this street has to offer. Sure, there are street fairs every year, which are held downtown. And I've been to the street fairs - I've even probably seen the outside of every shop located there. But I've never been in each one. Today that will change. My sister, Jessica, and I are going to walk the streets of Broadway, Avery in tow (hopefully he'll nap during part of our walk - or at least cooperate). For now, I'll leave you wtih a picture of our destination (I didn't take it. It's a City Scapes photo...you can find other interesting photos of this area by searching: downtown Fargo, ND on google images).

She Shall Sew.

2008-09-18T10:19:00.003-05:00

Say that five times fast. Hah! "She" would be me, of course. And the sewing I'm talking about? Oh goodness, let me tell you what has my cup overflowing with excitement.

I decided I was going to give creative (sometimes handmade) gifts this year for birthdays and holidays. I purchased a pattern from Sew Liberated, and it just came in the mail today! I can't tell you exactly what it is since there's a slim chance one of my sisters might see this post. But needless to say, I have really high hopes for this particular adventure.

There's a little hang-up, however. I haven't used a sewing pattern since my days in 4-H. That was, hmmm, approximately 1992, when I was ten or so. And honestly, until I recently took up quilting and made that little grocery bag for my mother, I hadn't sewn in probably fifteen years, either. So you can probably understand the apprehension I'm feeling. Luckily my mother is fairly skilled in this area and has agreed to help me, should I need it.

I'm thinking I'll need all the help I can get.

Matt vs. Megan: A Debate About Schooling

2008-09-15T13:25:00.007-05:00

Last night Matt and were discussing the pros and cons of certain forms of education. We talked about big schools vs. small schools and public schooling vs. home schooling. We have very different outlooks, my husband and I.

I think it's wonderful that there are still areas of the U.S. that do not require the use of metal detectors, security personnel, or drug dogs in schools. I'm so glad we live in a place where our children can retain some of their innocence just a bit longer than the rest of the country.

Matt thinks it's idiotic to not have these things already implemented, that it's stupid to wait until something terrible happens and then try to keep it from happening again. He says we should start preventing these things before it even touches this community a first time. And while I agree that it does seem slightly backward to have to correct something rather than prevent it in the first place, I still can't help but want to hold onto simpler times.

As I stated earlier, we also talked about public vs. home schooling. I trust our region's teachers; I admire them. They are paid poorly, and they go far beyond what's expected of them. I know this from experience. The teachers in my high school would spend as much time as necessary to make sure each student understood every lesson. This was true of every math, english, music, and science teacher I ever had (including post-secondary). Not being especially bright in math and science, I spent a good deal of time after school hours with my instructors.

I've tried to imagine how my views would change had I been brought up in a city such as New York, Los Angeles, Phoenix, or Dallas. I surely would not have gotten the one-on-one attention I needed to grasp certain school subjects. I'd also be numb to things like random drug searches, which doesn't seem like a good thing at all. Would my parents have felt like keeping me at home, educating me in the safety of our own residence rather than taking the chance with the public school system? Probably, and I wouldn't blame them one bit. I'd probably do the same thing with my son.

However, if my husband had his way, Avery would be sent on his merry way to one of those schools I find so frightening. He thinks it's silly for teachers to devote so much time to one student when they won't get the same treatment in the "real world." He thinks it's better - usually - to make children find a way to overcome challenges on their own...that they end up being stronger individuals if they have to find their own route, without a guide.

**This might be the time to mention the fact that Matt is an Army brat. He moved around a lot as a child, to many different regions of the country, having to make new friends, meet new teachers, and walk his little sister to strange schools frequently.**

So, how do two people who have such very different outlooks on education compromise?

You tell us.

Soakin' Up Some Sunshine

2008-09-14T10:15:00.003-05:00

You gotta snatch it up when it's offered these days. There's no telling when you'll see it again.

The rain hasn't been all bad, though. I finished the grocery bag for my mother. She and my dad came to visit yesterday. We spent the morning at garage sales - oh goodness I love that particular pastime. Especially because it doesn't empty out my pockets quite as quickly as a trip to the mall. Yesterday I found ten books which totaled approximately $3.00, and a Cookie Monster hoodie for Avery that was $2.00 (this price was a bit of a stretch for me, but after Avery had seen it, there was no leaving without it).

Ok...getting side-tracked here. The point was that I promised a picture of the project I just finished. Well, my mother took off with it dangling protectively from her lovely hands - before I could take a photo of it. And honestly, it's not 100% finished. After completing all of the sewing, I realized it needs an insert of some sort to allow it to hold its shape. I'm thinking of a piece of plastic placed in the bottom. So...anyway...it's coming.

As for now, we're going to do something today that involves the outdoors. I'm hopeful it will be more exciting than laying at the patio door soakin' up some rays, though.

Cheetoh highly recommends this activity, however. By the way, I questioned him about his buddy, the pacifier. So far he won't 'fess up to using it as today's plaything.

Crafting is Dangerous!

2008-09-12T08:08:00.003-05:00

I think I mentioned the fact that my mother has lent me her sewing machine, right? Well, I've had for a good couple of months now. So, being the devoted daughter, I thought maybe I should show her my gratitude. We (my sisters, mother, and I) have started trying to use less single-use plastics. Most noticeably, this results in fewer plastic grocery bags. So I thought: I'll make her a cute fabric grocery bag!

Enter: Dangerous craft tool - the rotary cutter.

*Here's a hint. Don't try to pick up a piece of material while you're still holding the engaged rotary cutter in your hand! Oops. Learned that one the hard way.*

Anyway, the bag was coming along nicely. Oh!! And I forgot to mention! I'm making this without a pattern (I maybe should have kept that detail to myself until I'm positive the bag is a success - oh well). I'll post pictures if and when it's completed to my liking.

For now, just let this be a little reminder to BE CAREFUL!

Chatting with Avery

2008-09-09T16:12:00.004-05:00

Avery learns more words every day. He's becoming quite the little parrot, too, much to the dismay of his potty-mouthed parents.

I'd like to share with you some of the joys and challenges we're facing as we try to teach him the language I love.

List of words he knows (and says well):
1. Numbers: 1, 2, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 (he's having a hard time with r's and th's)

2. Names: Avery, Mommy, Daddy, Auntie, Cheetoh, Elmo (I'm not sure what to categorize Elmo as...)

3. Minute - "Just a minute, Avery," must come out of my mouth a lot. He says this one like a champ!

4. Animal names/sounds: Cow/moo, sheep/baa, puppy/woof, monkey/eeh! eeh! (you get the idea), and so on.

5. Foods: Apple, banana (although the first syllable is dropped), water, milk, juice, pizza, cheese (one of his FAVORITES), Cheerios (the r sounds like a w, though), and others I won't take the time to list.

6. Objects: Phone, cup, book, shoe, shirt, pants, shorts, hat, Elmo (again...), chair, tv, flower (still with the 'r'), coat, bed, toy, ball (sounds a little like "bow" though), car, truck, boat, etc.

7. Body parts: Head, nose, ear, teeth, mouth (which he says like "mouse"), foot, toes, eye.

8. Yes and No - very emphatically.

9. Love you, Night-Night, Bye, Buh-bye, Hi

There are obviously many more that I can't think of right now, but you get the idea.

He says kitty, but can't say "meow." It's just "ow," and we think it's pretty giggle-worthy. He calls grandpa "Bopa." I'm not sure where it came from, but I think it's going to stick. My poor mother doesn't even get her own mangled name, though. She's either Mia, Avery's play date pal, or Mommy. We're working on it.

We have filler rock in the flower beds outside the patio door. Avery loves to pick up these rocks, taste one every now and then, and throw them in the neighbor's wading pool (it's for their dog, not a child). What does our child call these fascinating little playthings???? COCKS. Yep, that's right, I said cocks. He gets so incredibly excited when we go outside and he gets to play in them, too. So the minute we step out onto the patio, it's "Cocks! Cocks, Mommy!" Shouting to everyone in a 50 yard vicinity. The neighbors have heard - and at first they look confused. Then they laugh...hysterically. I've explained. But there's no going back once your child starts yelling about cocks to anyone who'll listen.

Did you know?

2008-09-09T09:09:00.003-05:00

Spaghetti sauce is great for the skin. The acidic juices of the tomato gently peel away unhealthy skin. The herbs cool and calm any red, irritated spots. It's also especially helpful in aiding the healing of any carpet burns, bruises, bumps, and scrapes.

Oh, wait. I'm making this up. I just thought I'd try to make Avery feel better about his slightly out-of-control self-feeding episode the other night.

Autumn Greeting

2008-09-04T10:39:00.003-05:00

Apparently summer is backing away from us, and autumn is eager to fill its place. This week, we're already getting down into the 40's during the night. Brrr!

I'm one of those people who are impossible to please. I hate sweating the second I walk out the door during the summer months, but I also despise shoveling snow and bundling up. I suppose that's human nature, right? Let me feel a little bit better about my constant state of discontent when it comes to this region's weather...agree with me, please.

I dragged out my crock pot today. This chilly weather is putting me in the mood for something slow-cooked and wholesome. Beef roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, and some fresh garden peas should do the trick. Mmmm...I can't wait for supper and it's not even noon!

Bye Bye, Mia

2008-08-29T10:12:00.005-05:00

Jessica's summer of nannying came to an end this week. Which means no more playdates with Miss Mia. I realized something in the hours we spent with this precious little girl, though.

My son throws himself a pretty darn good tantrum. He rips stuff out of his mouth in angry protest should things not go his way, he face-plants on the floor if he's told "no" on occasion (not that we only tell him "no" occasionally, it's just that he only occasionally reacts this way). He gets pure, evil joy out of pulling Cheetoh's tail, and he loves to make juice/water/milk puddles on my floors.

However...little girls are far from perfect! Holy cannoli! Miss Mia plants herself on the floor, assumes the pouty-lip position, and proceeds to emit an ear-splitting, calling-all-dogs, subhuman sort of noise that causes her beautiful porcelin skin to contort until she's almost unrecognizable. A word of warning: Do Not ask this girl to share. Oh Lord, have mercy on me. I did...and WHEW! I barely escaped with my life (a moment of sheer pride was when she wouldn't share a cracker with Avery, and in response, Avery took his last cracker over to Mia, even offering to place it in her mouth for her).

Ok, now that I've let off some steam, I feel as though I need to remind myself - and all of you (Hi, Jennifer!) - that she's really just as sweet as they come most of the time.

Goodbye to dead batteries!

2008-08-28T15:04:00.003-05:00

So I took some good advice and bought rechargeable batteries with a charger today (more on the shopping adventure to come). Honestly, for what we were paying for the recommended one-use batteries for digital cameras, we could have saved lots of money had we done this sooner.

My photos are now happily downloaded (uploaded?) to the computer, where they shall remain for who knows how long.

Have I mentioned I started quilting this summer? Oh goodness gracious. What an addiction that has become. I think fabrics are now my purchase obsession (and don't even THINK about what clearance-priced fabrics do to me). The only project I've finished so far is a wall hanging made from the very first block I completed. The pattern, Trip Around the World, is from a book my grandma had at the lake cabin with her one weekend. It's a very simple, 15 inch block made up of 2 1/2 inch squares (well, 2 5/8 before the seam allowance is factored in).

Anyway, I have since started two other projects. One is to be a quilt for my bed, made from the same pattern which I completed my first block. I got really sick of little squares within about ten days' time, however, and have moved on to another. The other will be a throw for my mother-in-law for Christmas. It's made from a pattern called the Roman Stripe, which, according to the online quilting site I was referencing, is very good for beginners.

The lightest fabric has some sweet little phrases on it like, "Family bonds are stitched tighter than thread." There are a couple of other ones, but that one's my favorite. It's all done in colors that are found in her living room. Now I just have to hope she likes it!

So, how does this have to do with my shopping adventure today? Oh me, oh my. I walked into Savers today. Near the back of the store they have craft materials. I found numerous bags of random fabrics, found four I just couldn't live without, and scurried towards the checkout counter before I could let buyer's remorse kick in.

1 small bundle: $2.99
2 medium bundles: $3.99
1 large bundle: $7.99

(My heart is all twittery and full. What a great shopper I am! Now...where to hide it all from Matt.)

All in all, I came up with 74 different fabrics. Almost every one of them is at least a quarter yard, some as much as 2-3 yards.

Just think of the possibilities!

Darn Batteries

2008-08-27T08:26:00.004-05:00

I have lots of fun and exciting photos trapped on my camera at the moment. I realized the batteries were dead Monday night when I sat down to download them all to my computer. I could have gone to buy new batteries. I have this love/hate relationship with shopping, however.

I have this very unlikable habit of going into a store, seeing something I never could have imagined I needed or wanted, and becoming instantly unable to leave the store without said item. I go out for milk and bread, and come home $50 later with the makings for lemon scones, or chicken tortilla soup, or some such thing that I had maybe one of eight ingredients needed. I will venture to the mall to return an outfit of Avery's that I finally found hanging in its bag on the back of my bedroom door, which was supposed to fit him 3 months ago. On my way out I see clearance racks. OH LORDY! Clearance racks! They're like a beacon in a foggy sea, drawing me in to their land of astonishingly reduced-price items as though they were my safe harbor.

So you see, going out to purchase batteries - and batteries only - is a dangerous affair. Maybe by tomorrow or Friday I'll need more milk or bread. Maybe I'll suddenly be unable to resist the urge to attempt a recipe that has caught my eye. Or maybe I'll run out of laundry soap, or hair conditioner, or Avery's butt cream. Or perhaps I can go into Target or K-Mart and just purchase batteries, leaving with my dignity and my pocketbook.

We shall see.

Sweet Not-So-Baby Boy

2008-08-18T10:20:00.004-05:00

Time is whizzing by. This winter, my little baby will be two years old. It doesn't seem at all possible. I suppose that's how every parent feels, though.

I recently decided I should try to take some better quality pictures of him. And I've been fiddling around with the Photosmart Premier program that's on our computer trying to improve upon the point-and-shoot photos I've taken.

I'm new to this, so gentle critiquing would be appreciated.

I tried to get a soft, glowing look out of this photo. I'm not sure it's as clear as it could be, but then again, it wasn't the clearest picture to begin with. And the bottom portion of his face is still kind of shadowed.

I'm pretty pleased with this one, as well. I enhanced the coloring just a bit, trying to make his skin tone contrast more against the tub. (I suppose it might be helpful to post the before and the after photos...I'll remember that for next time.) This color enhancement also succeeded in giving more contrast between his skin and eye color. Not too shabby for a first timer!

I thought this last one was going to be pretty good. But next to the tub shot, it's pretty sallow (is that the right word?). I was trying SO HARD for a good close-up, I just had to post one. Even though the improvement process kind of failed, I like this photo so much, I may just take another crack at it.

Suggestions would probably be appreciated. (My improvement process is limited to the program I mentioned earlier, though.)

All In Good Fun

2008-08-06T14:58:00.004-05:00

My little monkey and I spent a few days at the lake cabin. It was a mostly relaxing time. I got to sit and soak up some sun while reading a perfectly enjoyable trashy novel, fish, fish, fish, and spend some quality time with my grandmother.

Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! And guess what? I got a lesson in quilting. I have to say, if I wasn't so broke, I think I'd be hopelessly hooked. Well, that and the fact that I don't own a sewing machine, which definitely puts a cramp in that particular hobby. I made my very first block with my grandma's machine, though. And, if I must say so myself, it turned out pretty darn good (by the way, this is the grandmother who says "warsh" and "garsh dern.")!

Anyway, Avery sure did have a ball, also. Here's one of the more humorous highlights.

Looks pretty innocent, right? Oh, but wait. My curious monkey just hasn't met a chair he doesn't like to climb on.

Did I forget to mention this particular lawn chair has a couple of missing seat straps? Oops. Oh well, we had a good laugh while Avery got himself out of this little predicament.

Hope yours was full of sunshine and laughter, too.

Ok, I Cried Too

2008-08-04T09:47:00.006-05:00

My cousin's husband alerted us all to this video clip by posting on his Facebook account: "...bawling like a little girl because of that Christian the Lion YouTube video. GAH!"

So...what else could I do? I HAD to know why this man was crying. Wouldn't you absolutely have to know?

Anyway, for those of you with a soft spot for animals, I think this may leave you a little misty too.

Christian the Lion

(Thanks, Chris.)

I thought while I was listing a link that pulled on my heart strings, I'd point you towards this one also. JUNK may just have an impact on my plastic usage. Maybe it will yours, as well.

The Fruits of My Labor!

2008-07-30T11:31:00.004-05:00

I'm off tomorrow for a long weekend at the lake. Yippee! I just wanted to update you on the status of my tomato plant-growing expedition.

I am pleased to report that both potted plants are producing fruit! So far, only one tomato is present on the Better Boy plant. But the Grape Tomato one is definitely a gem! Just look at what she's offering!

Let the Sunshine In...

2008-07-28T09:09:00.005-05:00

It gives me immense pleasure to know that Avery will have the sort of summer experiences I had throughout my childhood. There will be hours upon hours spent swimming and playing in the cool, crisp water, steps away from the family cabin, where you could find grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins playing friendly (but VERY competitive) games of cards.

Each morning, just as the sun starts to creep into the sky, the fishermen and women will rub sleep from their eyes, remembering dreams of reeling in "The Big One." If you stand still for a moment, you'd just be able to make out the occasional slam of someone's screen door from across the lake - probably starting their own fishing adventure. You can also smell coffee being poured from a thermos that never seems to get emptied. If you're really lucky, and you woke up early enough, there's enough time to have a breakfast of fresh cinnamon or caramel rolls from the local gas station/grocery store/bakery, which would be all gooey and coated in melted icing from the humidity. Even after you guzzled your orange juice, loaded all the fishing necessities into the boat, and claimed your seat, there would still be delicious icing to lick off your fingers as the boat pulled away from the dock.

The sound of the boat motor is deafening against the quiet hush of the still lake. As you pull into the first fishing hole, hoping Wally the Walleye spent the night here and is waking up hungry, the motor is shut off, and the only sound now is the rush of waves left in your wake. As you bait your line, making the important decision between minnow, worm, or leech, you can hear my dad forcing air between his teeth in the rhythm of a song that's likely older than you are.

For the next many hours, few words are exchanged. You can hear the hiss of the line leaving the reel as you cast, coffee cups being refilled, bait containers opening and closing, and the occasional, "Agh! I've got one!" followed by my dad's, "Hey! Hey! It's fish for supper tonight!" If you're fortunate, you may even hear the sound of the metal stringer clanging against the side of the boat, reminding you of your success.

And later, on your way in for lunch, as the boat speeds across the lake and your eyes start to droop, you can weave your fish story in your mind, and dream of an afternoon of tubing, skiing, and more fishing.

Ahhhh...now that's the magic of childhood.

Mmm, Mmm, Mmmmmmm

2008-07-25T09:18:00.006-05:00

I LOVE scones.

Our local Sun-Mart makes the absolute best cranberry scones. I've tried numerous times with various recipes to get the consistency of theirs. That's the key to really good scones, by the way - their flaky, buttery, light texture. Mine have always come out tough and chewy.

Yesterday while scoping out Fargo's new discount-type store, Tuesday Morning, I came across these packaged scone mixes. (they're made by King Arthur Flour) So I baked some this morning. They are WONDERFUL! I'm seriously considering ordering more of their mixes. But the nicest part is that they have recipes on their site, as well. So even if I don't order their product, I can still make them myself!

Just look at my yummy success!

I added chocolate chips to my scones, since I purchased just the plain scone mix. Paired with some good, strong coffee and that flavored creamer, I think I'm starting off my day rather well!

Have a happy weekend everyone.

Spectacular Summer!

2008-07-22T15:36:00.009-05:00

I thought after my last post, I needed to add something positive here...

We spent some quality time at the lake cabin this weekend, and were fortunate enough to have lovely weather! Here are some of the highlights:

After all that excitement, we had an awfully tired child on our hands. Naps were taken whenever there was an opportunity!

Facing Mortality...

2008-07-21T16:48:00.004-05:00

"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome." ~Isaac Asimov

A friend of mine blogged about her preferences regarding the planning of her funeral. I had never really given this topic much thought. I've been to four funerals in my lifetime - a pretty small number, if you ask me. I'm not especially familiar with what's traditional, nor do I particularly care what is expected. "To each their own," as the saying goes.

The whole point of a funeral, I believe, is to gather every person who cared about you during your lifetime together, so that they may offer support to your family and to bid you farewell (sort of, I guess, since technically you're already gone). How does a person learn how to let go of a loved one, though? If you're very young, you are probably just told that Grandpa (or whomever) was taken to heaven to be with the angels. Maybe you write a little note for him and send it away with a balloon - I don't know...I'm just kind of brainstorming here. This might help a child adjust to the loss, but what about adults? I'm guessing not many of us send notes into the sky with balloons. I'm also guessing there aren't many of us who sit at their computer or pick up a pen and paper so that they can vent their feelings of grief in that form.

I have grandparents in their 80's. My husband's maternal grandparents are in pretty poor health, and my own parents are facing a tough road, as well. My mother has congestive heart failure and atrial fibrillation. My father had a heart attack in his early 40's, and just last year had a fairly serious stroke. Taking that into consideration, chances are I'll be losing my parents earlier rather than later.

So, how does a person like myself start to come to terms with loved ones' mortality? Or even my own? I've never really had to say goodbye to someone especially close to me.

I think I'm fairly realistic and accepting of my own mortality. I know someday I'll die. I don't know what I'd prefer at my own funeral. I'd just like it to be about comforting my family and friends, giving them whatever will be most helpful in moving past my death. The only aspect that I think I have issues with is the idea that I won't be around to do or see all the things I had hoped. I'd like to be around for my children's first day of kindergarten, junior high, graduation, wedding, birth of their own children, etc. To miss out on those things would be unimaginable.

I feel as though I should end this post with some sort of resolution -- something like "I guess we just live our regular lives and deal with death as it comes..." But that doesn't help me! It doesn't give me any sort of new light to shine on the topic. Other than the obvious: telling those you love how you feel about them, and appreciating each and every day you're given, I have nothing to bring forward with me. Is there anyone out there with the sort of wisdom this topic requires? Or do we all just wonder how we'll cope until the moment arrives?

To All You Begrudged NY Times Subscribers:

2008-07-17T15:18:00.002-05:00

Take a deep breath, count to ten - or twenty or thirty or even one hundred - and remember: it's only a newspaper!

So it turns out that my mostly unwavering positive attitude cannot endure the nastiness that spews out of the mouths of NY Times subscribers. I have consequently parted ways with this employer (the husband and child were not getting a very smiley Megan by the end of each day).

I realized, however, that I had missed my opportunity to convey to these horribly dreadful, foulmouthed individuals what exactly was going through my head while they wore out my good mood.

So, for those of you who need a few helpful reminders (you know who you are):

1. "Why can't that damn paper boy get my paper up my 60 steps, down the hallway to left of the kiddie-corner one, across from the burned out lamp, beside the elevator, two shimmies to the right, and hung in a plastic bag on my doorknob?"
PREFERRED REPLY: Check yourself. Anywhere on your person do you see any of these things: crown? purple velvet robe? emeralds and rubies the size of eyeballs? NO??? Then shut the hell up and let him deliver it to the flippin' lobby.

2. "How many times do I have to tell YOU PEOPLE? I need my paper by 4:45 every morning! I drive 3 hours from the suburbs to get to the city for work, and I leave by that time. Get my paper here earlier!"
PREFERRED REPLY: You're not the only person to receive the paper! You try getting your ass out of bed at 1am to package and deliver papers so that you, in your smug Armani suit, candy-apple red Ferrari, and multi-million dollar home can have your paper by that ungodly hour!

3. "WHAT??? The cost of my weekly paper has gone up $.05?!?! I can't afford that! How dare they increase the price of the paper!"
PREFERRED REPLY: You have four homes: one in Manhattan, one in Key West, another in San Francisco, and yet one more in Houston. Quit bitching and pay.

Surely there are many more situations I could play out for your enjoyment, but you get the idea.

Holy Lord, Almighty.

2008-07-15T10:54:00.003-05:00

Children.

They make us laugh until our cheeks and bellies ache, they frustrate us beyond the brink of insanity, and they can suspend our heart rate in an instant. Case in point:

Last night, after attending a softball game with my sister, Danielle, I returned home to find my son still up at 9:15 pm. Bedtime in this house is usually 8:00-8:30 for persons less than 3 feet tall. He was cozied up in my husband's lap, oohing and aahing over Matt's computer game (another story entirely). Matt claims he laid him down twice, and after a screaming/crying fit both times, he gave up and decided to wait until "The Mommy" got home.

So Avery and I sit and cuddle for a bit (I didn't expect to get this opportunity so late in the evening, after all!), and about 10 minutes later, I announce: "Ok, time to go night-night. Let's go." Avery, being the good little trooper he usually is, walks toward his bedroom with minimal complaining. I open his bedroom door, and he goes running in, past his crib, to the opposite wall. He then loses his balance, plops down on his butt, pitches forward, and face-plants right onto the corner of our baseboard heater.

Oh Lordy.

(This would be an instant in which my heart rate was suspended indefinitely.)

I race over to him. He's already wailing. His hands are plastered to his little face, which is the color of a ripe tomato. As I pry them away, I see blood. (I'd just like to make it known...I am the calm one. Matthew is a blubbering sack of overreaction in instances like these.) I walk out of Avery's bedroom, cradling him in my arms, grab the first thing I see (the bib from supper), and apply it to his cut. Then, with the most serene voice imaginable, I ask Matt to please get me a cold washcloth. At this point, my husband is displaying his "Oh Shit" look, and goes into a tirade about suing our apartment managers.

We stopped the bleeding. Matt finally calmed down a little. Luckily, my mother, who is a nurse, happened to be in Fargo last night. She came over to check it out and give her input on whether a doctor visit or stitches were necessary. A little Liquid Bandaid, and a little extra TLC, and our little Clumsy Clyde was off to bed.

Another victory for "The Mommy."

Blah, blah, blah

2008-07-03T11:37:00.003-05:00

I don't believe I have a false sense of importance.

I know there are hundreds of thousands of women who go through very similar little struggles on a daily basis.

I also think I'm mature enough to admit that while I think my rants and opinions are exceptionally interesting and worth the time to write, the general population probably doesn't share my views on the matter.

I write because it helps me to vent. It helps me to clear my head when my son is sucking on his 674th baby wipe that he's pulled out of the container. Or when my husband has, for the third day, avoided the stack of dishes in the kitchen - which I wouldn't normally just expect him to take care of, except that he offered to help THREE nights ago by doing the dishes...AND STILL THEY ARE CLUTTERING MY COUNTER!!!

As I stated, I understand that somewhere out there, many, many, many women can react to these two instances with: "Hah! That's nothing! Listen to this..." But this is my blog, GARSH DERN IT (in the words of my grandmother - she also says "warsh" instead of wash...that's a whole different topic, however)!

The whole point of this: Writing, just to write, most definitely relieves a considerable amount of my frustration. But I would surely reach the zen state of serenity if I only knew there was someone out there concurring, shouting "Amen, woman!" as they read along with my encounters.

Slackin'

2008-06-12T10:33:00.004-05:00

Ok, apparently earning an honest income each day has put a cramp in my blogging time. I just noticed it's been two weeks since I last left a nugget of wisdom in cyberspace. That's most certainly unacceptable.

So here we go. Not sure if it will classify as a nugget "of wisdom," but it's a nugget of something, nonetheless.

As an individual who does not own a plot of land on which garden-planting would be possible, I have had to resort to a pot-garden (No -- I'm not growing marijuana -- keep up with me here, please!). Since I have what could be termed a "puce thumb," I assumed by the start of June I would have two rather heavy planters containing shriveled, brown, crusty plant skeletons. But alas! There is hope for my gardening skills after all! It is now June 12, and after many nights of covering my baby tomato plants with a bed sheet, shielding them from the ridiculous freezing temps of North Dakota, I have healthy and strong specimens to show off. Look for yourself!

They even have blossoms! My mother (who has a VERY green thumb) informed me that after I first see blossoms on my tomato plants, I should see the actual fruit of my labor approximately 60 days later. I'm counting down the days! Soon, we will have "Better Boy" and "Grape" tomatoes! Oh -- and without that lovely salmonella :)

Changes

2008-05-25T08:29:00.004-05:00

Well, I started a new job on Monday. I will be taking inbound customer service calls for the New York Times at a business in Fargo called Upstream. Training for this position lasts three weeks. One must know how to start new subscriptions, how to edit existing ones, contact information for the editorial staff and writers, among many other tidbits of knowledge customers of the Times may inquire about.

For instance, did you know the Times asks all of its customers residing in the greater NY area to donate the newspapers they miss while on vacation to a Newspapers in Education fund? They do! I had never heard of this (obviously I've never lived in the greater NY area or subscribed to the Times...), but WOW - what a concept! The New York Times has special sections in its paper with everything from book reviews to science and technology. Issues of this paper arrive daily in NY schools, but have you ever looked at the subscription cost of this newspaper? UffDah! That's all I'm gonna say! However, the content in this publication is edgier, more diverse, and the most informative I've ever seen. (Ok, now I'm sounding like a saleswoman...)

Anyway, for an hour or so per day, we trainees listen to live calls, buddying up with a Times customer service rep to hear what real calls are like. People are SO passionate about their newspaper! One 90-year-old man called in because of a political headline this week. He was irate over this headline: "As Obama Heads to Florida, Many of Its Jews Have Doubts." Ok, this little man was Jewish, he supports the Democratic party, and he resides in Florida six months out of the year. His stance was basically: "The Times is awfully gutsy to be printing something like that in its headlines. To say all Jewish people residing in Florida question him or his methods is preposterous!" There was more, surely, but at this point in time I can't quote him word for word.

So, there is my exciting news for the week. Definitely not notable enough to make it on the front page of the New York Times, but obviously momentous enough to qualify for my own little online publication!

Pet Peeves

2008-05-10T10:04:00.004-05:00

All right. I realize I'm not perfect. I know I don't have a Master's in English. I don't even have an undergraduate degree in it - YET. And even though I had a wonderful high school English instructor, I realize not everyone thought of her in that light. I'm accepting of the fact that not everyone loves this language like I do, but that doesn't give you an excuse to butcher it!

Some of my top English peeves:

WRONG: "It's like deja vu all over again!" Hint: Deja vu means "an impression of having seen or experienced something before (Dictionary.com)."

RIGHT: "It's like deja vu!"

WRONG: "The oven needs cleaned." (This sentence structure is commonly found coming out of my husband's mouth.)

RIGHT: "The oven needs cleaning." OR "The oven needs to be cleaned."

WRONG: "Me and him are going to the mall."

RIGHT: "Matt (or he) and I are going to the mall." (This one was taught to us as far back as elementary school, yet it's one of the most commonly misspoken sentences.)

WRONG: "I seen that movie last week!"

RIGHT: "I saw that movie last week!" (Again, try to remember what you were taught!)

On a related topic, I was always told throughout my English education that this is the way to properly form this sentence:
----That's the Skunes' house. (My maiden name - it posed many challenges.)
However, after doing a little research, I've discovered that it's ok to write it this way:
----That's the Skunes's house.
I have to tell you, I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. I was taught that if the word ends in an 'S' already, you only need to add an apostrophe to make it possessive - no need for another 'S'. Could someone PLEASE clear this up?

Another Play Date With Mia!

2008-05-06T10:13:00.005-05:00

After the birdhouse fiasco, Jessica and I were ready for an event that didn't call for painting clothes and non-toxic paint.

So we headed for the park. This one is located near Mia's house, so we stuck the kids in strollers and headed in that direction. Unfortunately, neither adult had been there before, and we were disappointed to discover that this one was geared more towards older children.

We still had fun though! Here are the highlights:

Gifts for the Grandmas

2008-05-06T09:55:00.004-05:00

As neither of Avery's grandmothers are especially fond of the cyber world, I'm quite confident I can post these pictures without worry of spoiling a surprise Mother's Day gift.

Jessica, one of my sisters, is nannying this summer for a local family. The little girl she has in her charge is approximately 2 1/2 months older than Avery, which gives us an opportunity for playdates! Her name is Mia (pronounced My-Ah), and she's awfully cute - as you'll soon see.

Jessica and I decided we should make something crafty for Mia's mom and Avery's grandmas for Mother's Day. We ventured out to Hobby Lobby and came home with unfinished birdhouses, non-toxic acrylic paints, some foam adornments, and a can of interior/exterior clear finishing spray.

Here is our adventure:

As you can see, my child decided it was much more fun to eat the paint, while Mia stayed relatively neat. While all Jessica had to do was put a dollop of paint on the surface for Mia to spread around, I had to use my child's hand like a paintbrush...You can tell he was really into the project, can't ya?

The grandmothers will love them, though - And that's all that matters!

Nebraska Nature Shots

2008-04-28T11:15:00.005-05:00

The ducks...

Shorty (See earlier post regarding this one!)...

Beautiful rooster...

Buddy...

Smokey...

Everything

Is

In

Bloom!

While Snow Pelted Fargo...

2008-04-28T10:44:00.008-05:00

We were in Nebraska enjoying warmer weather!

Chasing chickens

Giggling with Grandma
and cousin, Teghan

Playing

Having
FUN
with
Grandpa

AND
EATING
MUD!!

Horses & Chickens & Ducks, OH MY!

2008-04-23T11:06:00.003-05:00

Well, it's off to Nebraska for a nature-filled weekend! Matt's parents have a small farm there. It's beautiful, quaint, and tucked just far enough away from a paved road that you can pretend you're in the middle of nowhere, when really you're only a ten minute drive from crazy traffic and gigantic mobs of people.

Avery will surely have the time of his life. He's been there before, of course, but this time he'll be old enough to chase after the chickens and ducks. He'll also be able to enjoy the velvety tickle of the horses' mouths against his hands and face. There is also a large population of cats (who are luckily VERY tame) and an especially friendly mutt named Rosie.

There is a second dog, the black sheep (the dog's a sheep?) of the family. She's actually not so bad...she's just getting old and cranky. This little demon's name is Shorty. She's black (or used to be - she's awfully gray now) and has rather long ears that stand straight up off her head - the tip of one flops over making her look a little mischievious. She's short (obviously. hence the name) like a Dachshund and has this curly tail that looks like it belongs on a pig. Not only does she have a pig's tail, but she also acquired their stench at some point. Despite all this, she's really quite lovable - as long as you don't get in her way.

Anyway, I'll be sure to capture lots of outdoorsy pictures to post upon our return.

You'll be relieved to know that Jessica has agreed to care for Cheetoh and Charlie while we're gone. Sorry boys - no farm adventures for you!

The Lonliness of Blogland

2008-04-17T16:46:00.005-05:00

You know how an empty auditorium sounds when you shout out into the darkened space? It's as if your lonely voice bounces off all the walls, like they are even capable of rejecting your thoughts, and anything you whisper, shout, sing, etc. comes rushing back at you.

That's how I'm feeling about blogging right now. With the exception of my glorious Aunt Darcy, nobody seems to find it necessary to comment. So...if there's anyone out there -- COMMENT DAMN IT!

It would be even better if you'd leave your name. That way I wouldn't have to be afraid that I have some random stalker reading my posts and giving his/her two cents' worth.

~~In other news...I had my upper wisdom teeth removed on Tuesday. Alas, there is no more wisdom left in me! Because of this, I currently look as though I belong to some sort of Chipmunks gang. We'll see if I can get a minimally unflattering picture to post - I'm not making any promises though.

~~K - I found one...if you look closely, you can even see my bruise. *Sniff, sniff*

The Winter That Never Ended

2008-04-11T11:36:00.004-05:00

That'd be this one, of course.

My view from our patio. Our poor newly-purchased grill is covered with a blanket of ice and snow. Avery's multi-functional Radio Flyer wagon is also getting beat up by the elements.

Will we ever see spring and summer?

About Me

2008-04-10T14:34:00.004-05:00

It has recently been brought to my attention (Thanks, Matt) that I blog primarily about Avery and not as much about myself. So - here are some tid-bits about myself.

1. I LOVE to read - I get caught up in a book so easily, hours can pass without my even realizing it.

2. My favorite holiday is 4th of July. This is mostly because as a child we'd always spend it with my grandparents and aunts, uncles, and cousins at the lake cabin near Detroit Lakes. Grilling, swimming, tubing behind the speedboat, staying up late playing Pinnochle...there are so many great memories.

3. I have birthed two children without an epidural. (The first was purely by chance. The second, by choice. And I realize to many of you, this is a strange inclusion...but it's a motherly thing of pride for me.)

4. As a child, meatloaf and canned peas were a staple in our home. Both of which made me gag. Today, I can stomach my own meatloaf, but do not come near me with canned peas.

5. I love trees. If there is just one thing I would change about North Dakota/Minnesota it would be the addition of more trees. (Second would be the nasty winters.)

6. I have never lived anywhere more than 45 minutes from my hometown: Arthur, ND.

7. I am a tough person. It takes a very serious situation to cause me to break down.

8. Taking #7 into account, I get very emotionally attached to pets. When our childhood dog, Gypsy (an ever-curious, good-hearted, & VERY patient Golden Retriever) died, I think I cried for a week. Seriously. Also, I had to put my teenage pal, Payton (the friendliest - and most responsive - cat I've ever met), down when he contracted Feline Leukemia. Matt and I took him, with his withering little body wrapped in an old bath towel, to the nearby vet's office. I remember sobbing all the way home, his dead little body still wrapped in that towel, enclosed in a medical supply box. I hugged that box tightly, repeating: "It's just not fair" over and over again.

9. I'm very handy. My father never had any sons, so there were never "boy tasks" in our home. Anything was fair game to everyone. I can replace caulking and points on 50+ year-old storm windows, drive a stick-shift (at this point it'd be pretty rusty though), drive all sorts of farm machinery, lay shingles, change the oil on my vehicle, etc. Farm life definitely promotes independence.

10. My love of English can be credited to my high school English teacher, Mrs. Nyberg.

11. I love coffee; plain black, mochas, iced lattes - you name it, I love it.

12. I remember when I told my first lie. (Terrible, right?!) The whole family was sitting in the living room watching television and I told my mother I wanted a piece of gum. She said "No, it's too close to bedtime." I left the room, snuck into her purse (she always had spearmint Trident, and her purse always had this aroma of mint and tobacco), took a piece of gum, and returned to the living as though nothing happened. If you're familiar with spearmint Trident, you know you can smell when someone is chewing it from about a 6 foot perimeter. My mother asked me: "Megan, did you take a piece of gum from my purse?" Me: "No, Mom, I didn't." Mom: "Spit it out in my hand NOW." Me: (spitting the gum out) "Sorry Mom." -- Not an especially evil lie, but I couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 at the time. Shame on me.

13. I have seasonal allergies so bad that sometimes my eyes swell so badly that all I have are little gunky slits to see out of. (Pleasant mental picture, right?)

14. I have ALWAYS wanted to learn to play guitar. (I just got one, so hopefully soon I'll be serenading you all soon!)

15. I have never traveled out of the country - unless you count Canada, which I don't.

High Hopes

2008-04-07T14:20:00.007-05:00

Just another one of those everyday tantrums...Luckily they don't last long!

Who knew you could have so much fun with a Rubbermaid tote??

We have such high hopes for this kid...but it seems as though he's destined to be a shoe salesman. You can find my child in this shoe pile by our doorway numerous times a day...

What the Easter Bunny Brought...

2008-04-01T11:41:00.004-05:00

I love this picture...My husband has that "duh" look on his face that I see pretty frequently. Don't get me wrong - he's an intelligent man - he just has his moments. I have no idea what he's picking off his arm; cat hair, fuzz, food remnants - it's anyone's guess.

This is Grandpa Russ (Matthew's dad). When Avery was born, he looked just like him. (We're not talking a slight resemblance - we're talking frighteningly similar) That lovely little yellow duck with the bunny ears is my newest enemy. He quacks a song ---- AND DANCES! Avery adores him, but at 92 decibals, I find it a little offensive to the eardrums. Oh well. Easter's over, we can pack him away til next year. And maybe we'll be lucky enough to have the batteries die by the time he's taken out again!