Busyness

I've actually had time to be a little busy in the last few days. The Husband (he prefers having the word "The" in front of his moniker until such time as I can think of a creative/catchy bloggy nickname for him) and I cleaned like crazy on Saturday and got a lot done. He finished installing ceiling tiles in our spare bedroom in anticipation of my parents arrival today. Only my Mom just called from Vermont to say they'd be in tomorrow sometime instead. Seems they did some, er, backwoods exploring late last night. We can relate.

Anyway, I thought I'd show you a few pictures of what I've been up to. Broadcasting it further gives me a sense of accomplishment in the Mom Department. Not that any of the canning happened in great quantities, but still.

Saturday: Bread & Butter pickles - those black things are peppercorns. The recipe called for too many of them!

Monday: That, my friends, is lemon curd. My all time favourite topping for almost anything!
(Canned before 7:30am yesterday morning.)

Monday: Cookies for The Husband's work potluck/baby shower lunch tomorrow.

Also Monday: I have ALWAYS wanted to learn how to fold towels like that and finally last night I had the time to figure it out!

Sunday: The Spare Bedroom, all ready. Leaving a basket (or in this case a bread bowl) of goodies in the Spare Room is a tradition my Mom started. A welcome basket of treats! And yes, the paint on the walls is called Lemon Spritz, and yes, it's blinding (!), because, yes, The Husband thought my Buttercream colour craving was too pale.*

*And yes, we're painting over it. Hah!

Here We Go A-Bloggering...

I have, once again, been slacking on posting. It isn't because I don't want to, it's more than I haven't had enough time with two free typing-hands (and even now I'm pushing my luck), and/or good ideas for anything to write about. I could just post a new picture of the cutest 2 month, 4 week, and two-day old girl on the planet every day, but I reckon most of you would get tired of constantly leaving the same comment: "Seriously, Bren J., that is the cutest 2 month, 4 week, and two-day old girl on the planet!"
I'm still going to post a picture anyway, because it is cute. And I should let you know that we've had all kinds of progress this week: She slept almost five hours one night and woke up only two minutes before the alarm was supposed to go off, she played with her car keys - by which I mean she grasped them in her wee hand and was shaking them unassisted, looking quite amused - and she put herself down for a 45 minute nap yesterday afternoon. A long enough nap, in fact, for me to bake an entire batch of cookies, start to finish (and consume more than I needed to)!

In other news, my good friend Zach, of no fixed Blogger address, bestowed upon me an award of his own creation: the King of Siam Award. I have no idea what the purpose or meaning of the award is. The king in the picture is King Rama VII, Prajadhipok. The most significant information I can find about him says that he was the last absolute and first constitutional monarch in Thailand as the result of a coup in 1932. So is that to imply that it's the award for bloggers who bend to the whims of their readers? Because if the coup was successful in getting the people a constitutional monarchy, the King's relationship with his people went downhill quickly after that. Hmmm.....

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I've decided that since I'm in need of something to blog about these days, I will spend some time (EVENTUALLY, so don't go counting any chickens) further explaining our name choice for the Little Goat. One of her middle names is Leanne and as I mentioned several posts ago, she is named after five of the most incredible women I know. I thought maybe I should tell you a bit more about those women and why they're so important to me. Not only will it satisfy curiosity, provide you with more reading material and give me another opportunity to reflect on why I love these women, it will guarantee me five posts worth of blogging! I know, I know, for some of you, that's a week's worth of posts, but for me it could be more like a month's worth! So I'm not sure when I'll post the first installment, maybe this week. I need to hunt up some more incriminating photos.....har!

Ready for Church*

Of course halfway through church she filled her pants and it leaked and almost got on her Dad's pants too, but hey, she looked so CUTE doing it! And her genius mother had of course packed an extra set of PINK clothes to impress all the little old ladies who can't understand the aversion to pink. So it was a win-win!

*Also known as: An Easy Post I Can Type One-Handed

SWEET!!

My internet-twin, Brenda, gave me this, my very first bloggity award!! Phew! I've finally made it!
This is what it means:

“This award is for those bloggers who are nice people; good blog friends and those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you’ve been awarded please pass on to seven others whom you feel are deserving of this award”.

So I have to pass it on to seven other bloggers. Hm. Not sure I know seven other bloggers well enough. Erin K. (who already got it from Brenda but it can't hurt to get it twice, can it?), Beck, Shalee, Bub & Pie, and back to Brenda. I'd also give it to my friend Bryan but I'm pretty sure he would think it looks WAY too girly to ever appear on his blog. That's not seven, but it's the best I can do.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

We've actually been watching movies around here lately. Not in the theater (but one can dream....), but on TV or rentals. So by way of filling space on the interwebs with useless blather, I'm going to tell you about two of our recent viewings.

1) Blood Diamond - This movie was full of swearing and violence, but it was really good. Ordinarily, I cannot stand movies that are only thinly disguised publiic service announcements or even more thinly veiled political statements (ARGH!), but this was a good one. Around about the time Blood Diamond first came out, you'll recall, there was a huge increase in pleas from celebrities to boycott the purchase of so-called blood- or conflict-diamonds; and if you weren't going to boycott The Evil Diamond Conglomerates, could you at least attempt to purchase other humanely harvested gems (at eight times the price)? Maybe that's why we waited so long to see the movie: I was getting really sick of hearing public service announcements.

Then we started watching the movie and we began to understand what all the hype was about. However our initial understanding quickly turned to disgust as the movie progressed. Yes, we can understand how a boycott of conflict-diamonds might be useful, but did all those celebrities stumping for Blood Diamond not actually SEE the movie? Didn't they see the kids? Daughters ripped from their mothers arms and forced into sexual slavery? Sons torn from their parents and forced to submit to brainwashing and the heinous act of transforming wee boys into wee murderers?

To us, THAT is the real problem. It isn't just happening in Sierra Leone where diamonds are concerned either. For years now in Uganda and Sudan, the LRA (Lord's Resistance Army) has been kidnapping children and forcing them to commit unspeakable atrocities. Since it's inception, the LRA has kidnapped over 44,000 children! Now go back and read that again. 44,000 CHILDREN. (Check out what Far Reaching Ministries is doing in Africa! You can even help evangelize soldiers by purchasing camels for chaplains to use as transportation! CAMELS!!)

Yes, it would be great if something could be done to lower the demand for diamonds and improve the conditions in which European companies acquire them, but shouldn't we be focusing on saving those kids?

At any rate, we did like the movie. I'm not looking to start a debate and I'm not going to trade in my engagement ring, I just needed to make sure I got in a little soapbox-style rant today.

2) The Queen - We just watched this one last night. It's been on our list to see for a while and since it was the 10th anniversary of Princess Diana's death, it seemed somehow apropos. I had heard beforehand that the movie was as much a character study of the Queen as anything and it did not disappoint. It was full of real stock footage from the days following Diana's death, but not so full that you felt like you'd seen the movie before. And who knew the Queen could be quite so cold?! This movie is a must-see if you're at all interested in the royal family and you don't mind a slower-paced story. Oh, and true to form, Philip even makes some bizarre comment about Zulus. Oh that Philip, he must have skipped a few too many lessons in tact.

So watch those two movies and tell me what you think.

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In other news....we made this crock pot steel-cut oatmeal recipe the other day. It turned out...GROSS (sorry, Beck). Maybe we're just weird over here, but this oatmeal had the consistency of what we imagine Emma's father's gruel (that's 'grew-L') would be like; I followed the recipe exactly, but man, was it runny! We'll stick with our baked recipe.

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This morning we actually got up at a decent hour. I finished yesterday's laundry and the Husband cuddled up with the Little Goat. Is there anything cuter than a Dad curled up with his wee Goat? I think not. Then we gobbled down an egg and headed out to the farmer's market. This time, there were actually people there. Lots of farmers, purveyors of tasty gardeny produce. We bought a tomato, some zucchini, a cucumber, some purple and green peppers, some brussel sprouts (wish us luck, we're brussel sprout virgins), and the most important acquisitions, a GIGANTIC apple fritter and a cinnamon bun (yes, that's a BUN, not a ROLL) from the Mennonite bakery (yes! Mennos! We really ARE everywhere!) in a town a little ways from here.

Now we are home where the Husband is working diligently in his yard and I am working diligently at my computer (while tending the 'herd' of course). It's cool and crispy outside, it's September 1st; Fall has arrived. Here's to a fulfilling Labour Day Weekend!

Would You Like Some Spice With That?

All this week, the Husband has been getting up rather.....later than usual. Late rising often leaves him with a decidedly rushed morning schedule. This morning was worse than usual; with a 15 minute drive to work and maybe 16 minutes until he was supposed to be there.

On these mornings, breakfast-to-go has to be a little creative. Today, he wasn't interested in his usual container of cereal with soymilk along in a separate container, to be consumed whenever time permits after he's arrived at work. So I proposed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The Husband: Sure! That sounds good.

Bren J.: Grab me the grape jelly?

The Husband: There's not much left in here.

Bren J.: How about plum? There's plum in the cupboard.

Bren J. spreads on the peanut butter and rushes to open the plum jelly. After smearing some over the peanut butter...

Bren J.: Wait a minute. I don't think this is plum...

The Husband: What?

Bren J.: Here, taste....I think it's hot pepper jelly.

The Husband: You know, I think it is.

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So, thanks Mom, for labeling that jar. I didn't realize plum jelly and hot pepper jelly look exactly the same. And yes, I scraped off as much of the 'plum' as possible and used apricot-pineapple instead. Phew!

Additionally, it must be noted that The Husband has never, until now, known the 'proper' way to assemble a peanut butter and jelly sandwich: Each slice of bread much be separately spread (read: slathered) with peanut butter BEFORE the jelly is added, otherwise, you get some soggy jellyfied bread. Ugh.

Because We're Lame Like That

The Husband and I like to come up with funny superheroes from time to time and we imagine conversations one might have with them. The Mumbler is one of my personal favourites (modeled after the Husband), but our most recent creation is The Googler. So without further adieu, may I present:

"Eavesdropping On a Conversation
Between a Concerned Citizen and The Googler"

CC: Oh! The Googler! You're just in time! There are two goldfish trapped in a bowl on the window ledge of that burning building!

The Googler: Fish? Trapped? Burning Building? Just a moment while I figure out what to do....Now let's see, "goldfish + bowl + window + fire....." Fried goldfish!? No, no, that won't do. "Goldfish + window".....Come on, I'm feeling lucky. Stained-glass goldfish? Ack!

...And so, two goldfish meet there firey fate. If only The Googler didn't have so many answers.

The Price is Right

The last couple months have been great months in which to receive mail. Having a baby dramatically ups the quality of our mailbox treasures. For a while there it was at least one card or present at least every other day. Who could ask for more? Alas, those days of surprisingly blissful trips to the mailbox have ended. We have now finally gotten both of the hospital bills for the Little Goat's birth - her bill and mine.

Having spent the greater part of my life living in Canada where at least the basics of health care are covered, it is still always a shock for me to see a hospital bill and find out exactly what it is we've paid for. The category that has me most befuddled is "Supplies." Three hundred and twenty-five dollars for supplies. Little plastic squirt bottles for cleaning, those abominable sanitary pads akin to the same BRAND NAME diapers my child wore in the hospital, only sans Winnie the Pooh or Tigger or Elmo or whichever cartoon-character-of-the-day is on them. Then there were those horrible mesh undertheres; $20 a pop, I'm sure. (I was really hoping to restock my personal supply of those, but it turns out Victoria's Secret is all out. Bah!) The most useless expense I witnessed? A bottle of sterile water opened during our in-nursery demonstration of bathing the Little Goat. One whole bottle of water, opened for what? Cleaning her eyes. Four drops of water on one cotton ball for one eye, four drops of water on another cotton ball for the other eye; and that's it! Don't save the bottle for anything else, it's contaminated now. Trust me when I say that we took almost everything from that hospital room that wasn't tied down. Extra chucks pads that I have no idea when we'll use, even the leftover pads and undertheres (I'm sure I'll find a use for them some day)!

So, just for "fun," I've decided to break down the cost of this birth into units that make it seem even more ludicrous. (Just for starters, for the cost of this birth, we could've purchased, used and before taxes of course, 2.4 units of the same car we already own, or 'splurged' on 15 'extra' mortgage payments.)

I have chosen the following units of measurement:

Carrots - a one pound bag costs us 68 cents

Soothers (also known as 'binkys' [<-seriously, WHO thought of that?!] or pacifiers to my American friends) - $3.96 for a package of two

Cans of pop - we're talking Walmart brand from their pop machines, available for 25 cents per can

Okay. Are you ready? Here's the breakdown:

Nursery/Semi-private hospital room (two nights): 6018 lbs of carrots, 1033 pkgs of soothers, or 16, 368 cans of pop.

Drugs: (I was sure this category should've been less. I figured a discount might be forthcoming since I requested Extra Strength Tylenol and they were "all out." Yes, ALL OUT. An entire hospital, evidently, OUT of Extra Strength Tylenol!) 201 lbs of carrots, 35 pkgs of soothers, or 548 cans of pop.

"Supplies": 478 lbs of carrots, 82 pkgs of soothers, or 1300 cans of pop.

Laboratory: 331 lbs of carrots, 57 pkgs of soothers, or 900 cans of pop.

Delivery Room: 2775 lbs of carrots, 477 pkgs of soothers, or 7548 cans of pop.

Physician: 5451 lbs of carrots, 936 pkgs of soothers, or 14,828 cans of pop.

So the grand total of all that is: 15,254 lbs of carrots, 2619 pkgs of soothers, or 41,492 cans of pop.

Thankfully, we are only responsible for the following: 1765 lbs of carrots, 303 pkgs of soothers, 4800 cans of pop, OR 1.75 mortgage payments.

What may be worse than all of this is the nearly insatiable and highly irritating craving for Cheez Whiz they sent me home with...all part of their plot to have me back for more business sometime in the next ten years, I'm sure.

Blog, Sweet Blog

Oh Blog Bloggity Blog Blog. It's so good to be back! I've pined for you, my bloggity friends, so much that I was beginning to fear my blood would turn to sap. Our poor computer is back up and running after a second surgery, with a $100 replacement part, so don't be surprised if you suddenly see ads on this page: Blogging isn't 'free' you know. It IS wonderful to have a computer that purrs like a kitten once again however.

What's that you say? Enough with the rambling and on with the update? O. K. Firstly, the Little Goat has taken to being quite smiley and laugh-y in the mornings. I'm quite enjoying those first few morning hours. (We won't get into how I feel after lunch.) We're not sure how much she weighs now (appointment next Friday, complete with *gasp* more shots!) but she's eating almost incessantly, so it must be more than 10 lbs. She seems to be right on 'schedule' with most of her 'developmental milestones' except that she HATES (inasmuch as a baby can hate) lying on her stomach. Oh man! If anybody has tips, we're all ears. Thirty seconds is too much some times.

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And what would a (finally!) new post be without a very funny story to share? Well, useless, that's what, so here you go. This past Tuesday, Husband was scheduled to give blood for the first time. He was excited because they let you take time out of work to donate and you walk away with a belly full of pizza and watermelon, a coupon for a free movie rental, and a coupon for a free wee pizza at Pizza Hut (still, it's free pizza, right?).

His donation time was 2:45. He called me at around 3:30 to say he still hadn't gotten in. Finally at around 5-ish, he got in to give blood. I was in a bit of a tizzy here at home because my La Leche League meeting was starting at 6:30 and I still hadn't really decided if I was going or not pending a check of the old temperature (a lovely bout of mastitis settled in on Sunday night - oh goody); but if I was going to go, I needed to get dinner in the oven ASAP. Anyway, around a quarter of six, Husband calls.

Husband: Um, well, I'm going to be a bit longer than I thought.

Bren J: You mean you're not done yet?

Husband: Well, I passed out in the bathroom.

Bren J: Cause I need to get dinner started and, wait, YOU WHAT?!?!?

Husband: I passed out in the bathroom after I gave blood. Another donor found me. So now I'm in the ER.

So he passed out in the bathroom and the AMBULANCE had to come and drive him from one end of the hospital to the other. Ridiculous? I. THINK. SO. He finally got home just after seven, blood on his work clothes, blood all over his neck (I guess it must cost extra if they have to actually clean you), a nasty headache from hitting his head on the floor after the initial connection of the chin to the urinal, two stitches resulting from said connection, a sprained pinky finger, and a huge bandage on his arm from 'the biggest hematoma the nurse said she'd ever given anyone giving blood.' (see photo)

Good. Grief. And so...

Bren J. (laughing): I'm sorry, but it's just really funny. That would just happen to you the very first time you gave blood. Sorry, the very last time you give blood.

Husband: Um hm.

Bren J.: You know you'll laugh about this some day, right?

Husband: Maybe.

Bren J.: Is it okay if I laugh about it now?

Husband: I guess, in your own little way.

Bren J: Please can I blog this? I'll leave out some of the details....

Husband: Fine. Whatever. Tylenol, please.

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A few days later and all is well. The bruise on Husband's arm is gargantuan but his headache is gone and he's saving 30 seconds not having to shave his chin every morning. And just so you know we're not the only ones who are mildly amused; we've finally succeeded in capturing the Little Goat's wee smiles. Hooray!

*Edit: Turns out there was no ambulance ride. Husband refused. They took him in a wheelchair instead.

Ahhhhhgain.

So posts are going to be sporadic again here because I have been informed I must undergo sensitivity counseling as a result of my wheelchair curling comments.

Just kidding. We thought the computer was okay now, but alas, it is not. We need to replace a part. Anyway, I may be reading other blogs and leaving a comment here and there (as usual), but I won't be posting anything heart-stopping (wait, do I ever?) for a week or so.

As with last time, I'll miss you...and I will definitely pine for you.

In Which I am Accidentally Ridiculously Politically Incorrect*

The following is a conversation that occurred two days ago, the end of which I have not heard since.

(Watching CBC - as usual - and a commercial for special edition Olympic coins comes on, specifically wheelchair curling.)

Husband: Oh look, it's the wheelchair curling commercial again. They sure are emphasizing wheelchair curling coins.

Bren J.: Yeah....lazy-ass curling.

Husband looks at Bren J. with mouth agape.

Bren J. (with look of lightbulb suddenly turning on): *gasp* Did I just say that?!?! Oh man, I totally didn't mean it that way. I was thinking of people sitting in regular chairs trying to curl! Seriously!

Husband continues to look at Bren J. with mouth agape.

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So that's me and that was my bumbling-idiot-let's-be-completely-insensative-to-people-with- dissabilities- moment. This continued lack of sleep really is NOT helping. My apologies!

*This post also fulfills my burning desire to begin the title of a post with the words "In Which." Woohoo! Finally!

Also, in my previous post, I used the word "germaphone." Obviously, what I really meant was germaphoBe. I CAN spell and I do know what I meant. You knew what I meant, didn't you? Well, didn't you?!?!

Day Surgery and a First Stroll(er)

Oh relax, relax, I'm not having surgery...We're back online over here at the J house. Finally! The computer isn't 100% yet, but it's functional. (Indeed, I did pine for you. Do you know how easy it is to write posts in your head when you have no way to post them?) Here's a picture of Husband performing surgery on Ol' Betsy (who is really only four years old, but that's like what, 100 in human years?) under the watchful tutelage of my uber-tech-savvy FIL with only a bit of 'backseat fixing' from yours truly as I watched and paced like a mom waiting to hear if her teenage daughter had a good time on her first date (or how I would imagine that to be).

Also here's a picture of the Little Goat after her first stroller ride. Don't be deceived! Husband took two pictures and in the first one, she was about to let out a good scream. Bonus points for us who had the genius idea of putting her in there when she was already asleep, then going for a half-hour walk. When we finally got her back in the house she was quite awake and looking quite baffled to be in her new GreenMobile. But it's a fabulous stroller and we love it. (Thanks Grama & Grampa!) **********************
In other news, I've been told by several people that after a few weeks with a new baby you really can't remember what life was like before said child. Well, I SO TOTALLY REMEMBER! And so I present:

5 Things I Miss Now That We're Parents for Real*:

1) I may as well state the obvious first: I miss uninterrupted sleep (minus a trip to the bathroom once - or five times) and all those other related activities - in the words of Shalee over at her Diner - *ahem*.

2) I miss not having to spend a good part of a church service deciding whether or not to take the Little Goat out of her carseat. The Little Old Ladies who sit behind us probably think we're some heartless parents who don't love our child enough to hold her (if they only knew that feeding her amounts to holding her for 8 hours a day). In reality, I don't want people to fight over who gets to hold the new baby first (or second, etc)....and my healthcare-employed husband is turning me into a germaphone.

3) I miss buying things that we want. This sounds selfish, I'm sure, but between diaper wipes and stupid nursing bras...I'm already sick of it.

4) Getting through a whole chapter in a book without interruption. Better yet, reading any book that doesn't pertain to children.

5) Five minute stops at the grocery store. I don't think I need to bother elaborating on that one.

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Also, Happy 100th Post to Me! <- That's a reminder so you can all congratulate me.

* These aren't necessarily complaints, I'm just...observing.**
** Okay, fine! They're pretty much complaints. Hmph!

Ouch!

This computer sounds like it's about to blow up, so I'm just letting you know that I won't be posting until it's fixed. Don't know how long that will be.

I'll miss you. In fact, I may just pine for you.

The Next Jack Hanna

Recently overheard at the J home:

(The Little Goat is wailing in the background.)

Husband: We should have gotten a puppy.

Bren: I tried to convince you....

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I'll preface this next quote by telling you that Husband worked a regular day yesterday and then was on-call last night, then a regular day today and on-call tonight. That's 32 hours of on-call/work in one weekend so he's a little, er, tired.

(Shortly before 3am, Husband arrives home after being called in.)

Bren: How'd it go?

Husband: Fine. Hey, I saw all kinds of wildlife on the way.

Bren: Oh yeah? Like what?

Husband: On the way there, I saw a whole family of raccoons crossing the highway! There were all these babies following the parents, but one hesitated and went back over to the side of the road. So I got out and tried to herd it across the road but it ran back into the bushes.

Bren: So you were on the side of the highway at 1:30 in the morning, herding raccoons?!?

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Yes, Friends, the minute Jack Hanna retires, I think I know a good candidate for his replacement.

Pulling a Britney

Well, we are officially horrid parents, I'm sure. Went to church on Sunday and realized AFTER we got there that the base of the Little Goat's car seat was only sitting in the car, it wasn't actually attached. Yes, we felt horrible. No, it won't happen again. Hopefully. We sure weren't intentionally stealing a page from the Britney Spears Book of Modern Parenting.

In other news, she now weighs roughly 8 lbs: when we took her to the Dr. last Thursday, she had gained 10 ounces in a six days! She's already grown more than an inch too. My deduction? Bigger baby = bigger poop = UGH!

So Grama is visiting (Grampa stayed home this time but will be out in September; Nana and Papa will be out next week) and we decided to try out the restaurant in town. They don't have a menu per se, but usually offer five different choices of 'entree.' One of Sundays entrees was Chop Suey. For your convenience, I'll offer Miriam-Webster's definition of Chop Suey, which is as follows: "a dish prepared chiefly from bean sprouts, bamboo shoots, water chestnuts, onions, mushrooms, and meat or fish and served with rice and soy sauce."

However, seeing as we're up here in Northern Maine where apparently that definition got a little lost in translation, I should warn you that Chop Suey - Northern Maine-style - consists of ziti and rigatoni pasta cooked with stewed tomatoes and hamburg. Yes, hamburg. There's no 'er' on the end of that either. It's not hamburger (as in most of the normal free world), it's HAMBURG.

Some day, the Husband and I will compile a longer list of the strange word-isms that Northern Mainers have come up with. Some of them are truly asinine. In the meantime, I have a sleeping Little Goat on my lap so I should put her in her crib and try to get some things done around here.

P.S.

Just in case you've been wondering:

Mingle² - Online Dating

Based on one occurrence of the word 'torture' I rate a "G." I'm appalled. I guess I need to swear more or something. My Mom would definitely not rate this blog a G as it contains stories of childbirth. My friend Bryan would also definitely not rate this blog a G based on the overabundance of references to breastfeeding (sorry, Bryan, if you're counting, that's probably reference #8467).

I wonder what kind of words I have to use to rate PG?? No worries, I won't start experimenting...

On the Other Hand...

...last night's "sleep" consisted of a grand total of two very interrupted hours of what almost doesn't even count as sleep. If I was really narcissistic, I would post a picture of my tired self here so you all could tell me how great I look in spite of my tiredness. But I won't. You'll have to feel sorry for me sans photo.

A Brief Reprieve

Just thought I should check in and let anyone who cares know that since my Mom is visiting, blog posts will be rather stingy at least for another week. Then we'll see.

We had a wee breakthrough last night in that the Little Goat (quite what she sounds like when she's sleeping) actually slept in her crib for an hour and a half before she got up for her midnight feed and then when I got her back down at 2:30 (again, in her CRIB!!), she wasn't up until just before five, bless her little goaty heart. We got sleep!!! Hooray! Oh it felt good!

For Your Amusement

Only Canadian kids could possibly be THIS bored.

Okay, Seriously...

....WHERE is the OFF BUTTON on this Thing?!?!?!?!?

Last night was HORRIBLE! We fed at 11:30, she was up at midnight. Then we fed three more times and walked and rocked and nothing. Wide awake was she. At 4am, she finally decided to sleep. A bit.

Exhausted really does not begin to describe this, but you know me - there's a funny moment in there somewhere, so, may I present "Midnight: A Conversation":

Husband to Little Sasquatch, Little Octopus, or the Super Pooper (we're tossing around ideas here): Hey You, it's time for bed. Are you all ready for sleep?

LS, LO, or SP responds with a sigh and holds up one hand with her index finger pointing, followed by the loudest excrement-producing sound imaginable.

Bren (laughing like an idiot and actually slapping her knee): Hah! That was great! Is there an onomatopoeia for that?

Evil look from Husband.

Bren: No really, how would you spell that sound?

The Next 007

So without going into too much detail, here’s the scoop. My water broke at 3:30 on Saturday (today is the actual due date you’ll notice). I was feeling just fine so we finished setting up the nursery and ate a piece of our rhubarb pie (look, I'm Menno and it was fresh out of the oven). We left for the hospital just after 5 and that's when the first contraction started. I had only been at 2 1/2 cm on Friday afternoon and by 7pm on Saturday I was at 6. By 9, I was at 9 1/2, so I pushed for an hour (So in explanation of the post title: It. Is. HELL. And I am convinced I have now endured enough screaming and torture to at least audition to be the next 007 - oi vey! Seriously, I think the whole block probably heard me – at one point we figured maybe I was scaring her and that’s why through about six contractions, only half her head was out…) and then there she was.

Now here’s the funny story: on Friday at the clinic, we saw Laura & Aaron, the couple from our childbirth ed class who were due exactly a week after us. Laura said the doctor told her if she didn't go into labour on Friday night, she should come in first thing Saturday morning and they would get things started. (I think I posted about that already and yes, I was jealous.) So on Saturday morning, I made them a congratulations card and we were going to just leave it on the windshield of their car. Nope. Our delivery nurse gave it to them instead - they were right across the hall in the birthing wing. :) They ended up having a girl too, so our girls were mere ounces apart, a quarter of an inch apart, and about two hours and technically one date apart and got to be nursery-mates for a couple days. Very fun.

And without further adieu, here she is:

Anja Helena Leanne J.
18 June 07
10:02pm
7lbs, 19 1/4 inches

Oh, and here's the name explanation:

Anja - It's Russian and it means gracious and merciful.
Helena - After Bren's Grama. (Greek for 'light')
Leanne - after five of the most incredible women I know because,
conveniently enough, you all have either Leigh or Anne or Leanne as a middle name.
So, Chandra Anne, Tamra Leanne, Kara Anne, Erin Leigh, and Lindsay E. Anne - thank you for the role you've played in shaping me into the woman I am (and I mean that in the least cliched way possible)!
I love you!

And can I just say: she has the best Dad EVER.

A Funny Thing Just Happened....

So, um, yeah....my water just broke. Thought I should let you all know.

Very ironic since about a week ago I told Husband: 'You just wait. We'll just get the crib set up and she'll come.'

We just finished the crib before lunch.

And I just pulled my rhubarb pie out of the oven. (Don't worry, I called the Midwife and she said I could have a piece before I go to the hospital!)

Look Fast!

These might just self-destruct in 24 hours so catch 'em while you can....

Today's appointment showed hardly any change from last week; only minimal progression. On the plus-side (for somebody else!), one of the girls from our childbirth ed class who WAS due exactly a week after me, gets to have her baby tomorrow if it doesn't come tonight. *sigh*

Seriously though: GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!!!
(So do I look like how you pictured me?)

In Case You're Still Wondering

Yeah, in case there's anybody out there still checking my blog for new posts....my apologies for being such a slacker. I have been feeling quite rotten the last couple weeks and have just not felt like posting anything since it would all be complaints anyway.

The kid is still where she's been for the past nine months. I know she doesn't fit, she must know she doesn't fit, but young brains obviously can't put 2 and 2 together yet. In the meantime, her nursery is almost finished. Husband has a wee bit of painting left on the dresser and then we can move in the carpet and the rest of the furniture.

We went for a baby shopping trip today. We thought since we're down to 6 days (!!!), we should commence with buying all the wipes and creams and pads, etc that we might need in the next little while, along with a good supply of shampoo and toilet paper. We also bought our very first diaper pail. Oh boy! Talk. About. Excitement. (Seriously though, it's a great colour. If I was feeling ambitious, I'd even post a picture for you. But I'm not.)

In other news, we're house/cat-watching for one of Husband's coworkers. After a 2-3 day absence, her cat, which she assured us would come back in the evening if let out for the day, FINALLY came back late last night. And one of our cats who was lost in our own house since yesterday afternoon was finally discovered this morning. Husband figured if she could've been crossing her legs doing a potty-dance she would've been. She headed straight for the cat box when she was released.

Really though, if we can lose one of our own cats in our own house, what does this bode for our future children???

You Had to Know This Was Coming

A friend recently commented that she couldn't believe I hadn't been complaining more about my pregnancy on my blog. Well, the time has come: I'm nauseous, tired, sore, and so DONE with this business of baby-growing and if in the next few weeks (yes, I said few - know why? Because last Friday, the Midwife told me it'll be "at least another four weeks." FOUR FREAKING WEEKS!) you find my blog riddled with various gestational complaints, be ye not surprised. It doesn't mean there isn't other stuff going on in our lives, it just means I'm unable to focus on anything else. Argh!

Some moms-to-be write wee letters to their impending arrivals, expressing their love and excitement and all sorts of other sap. I have chosen to include mine here:

An Open Note to the Mystery Baby:

For 8 months and 2 weeks now, you have been nestled in the abyss that is my uterus. Whilst you have been busy growing (hopefully) copious amounts of brown hair and (hopefully) blue eyes, along with developing several weird idiosyncrasies and personality traits (undoubtedly inherited from your father), it has become exceedingly apparent that you are running out of room. So don't take this the wrong way because we like you and all, but

GET. OUT. NOW.

Sincerely with love,
Mum & Dad

A Conversation

This is a conversation that occurred between me and Husband last night (needless to say, rather close to bedtime):

Bren: Um, what are you doing? Why are you smelling my pant-leg?

Husband: Because it smells good.

Bren (thinking it's probably because it smells like nice clean laundry): What does it smell like?

Husband: I can't quite place it. Something from a birthday party a long time ago. Maybe when I was 10.

Bren: Stop smelling my pants.

Husband: But they smell good.

Bren: I'm blogging about this.

Husband: Fine. *sniff, sniff*

Oops, I Forgot

But what else is new?

I forgot to tag anyone with the 8 Random Things meme. So, I'm tagging Erin over at Whitekirk, even though I realize they just moved and she's probably swamped with unpacking and all that, this could be an appropriate break. I'm also tagging Beck. She's probably done this meme a bunch of times already, but that's what makes it more interesting. Now she has to dig a little deeper to write things she hasn't written before. Hah!

Cyberspace, You Came This Close!

We keep making plans to finally take some pictures of my as-of-late ever-expanding belly (seriously, this kid took off in Month 8!), but then we keep forgetting. We were all set to actually take pictures on Sunday afternoon when I developed (this was not intentional, I promise) a really nasty itchy rash on my face. So no pictures for you until it's completely gone! Ugh! So you came this close to having your eyes assaulted by pregnancy photos!

In other news, I finally have something to blog about because Brenda (my bloggosphere twin! Exactly the same birthday and she and her Husband just had a baby girl in March!) was kind enough to tag me with the '8 Random Facts About Me' meme. I'm not sure I can compete with her divulging information about her road rage, but I'll see what I can do.

8 Random Facts About Me*:

1) The BBC version of Pride & Prejudice is coming with us to the hospital when labour hits. I like it that much. I'm not saying I'll be entirely focused on it at all, but as background noise and hilarity, it'll carry me through almost six hours, right? Plus, since I've seen it about....oh I think I'm pushing 20 times, I don't need to pay perfect attention anyway.

2) I've owned an MP3 player since February and I've never used it once. For all the technical savvy I possess, I cannot for the life of me figure out how to work this dang thing!

3) If I could spend my time owning and running a tea shop, I'd be all over that, but for now, that doesn't seem to be in my immediate future.

4) I don't know why, but I'm super anal about this: do not stand on a freshly laundered bathmat in anything other than bare feet! It's just not right!

5) Hmm...where's my soapbox? Oh, good, there it is. Just a second, let me get up there. Okay. So. I'll keep this short. While I agree that the environment is a going concern these days, I am so sick of the environmental movement. I am sick of turning on the TV or the radio or grabbing a magazine or newspaper and 7 out of 10 articles are all about 'global warming' and carbon emissions and how dastardly incandescent light bulbs are. You know what's dastardly? That there are millions of CHILDREN all over the world (seriously, check out your own backyard) who are living in poverty. They're hungry, their health is horrible, and they go to sleep one night not knowing where they'll sleep the next night. They live in refugee camps or homeless shelters. They own the clothes on their backs and nothing else. I find it unbelievably irritating that so many celebrities and the media overlook PEOPLE in favour of the PLANET. It's convenient. You can pass yourself off as a globally-conscious 'green' person without having to actually get your hands dirty caring about SOULS.
As a family who will in three weeks, with the arrival of our first child, officially fall into the 'low-income' bracket, we often feel rather impotent to do anything about poverty in our community. But can we sacrifice a few of those extra sweaters in our collection, or buy even one extra box of spaghetti or one extra bottle of shampoo to help out someone even worse off? You bet! I would rather rest peacefully knowing that one kid got some supper today than knowing that I saved three cents on my hydro bill because I switched to a compact fluorescent bulb.

6) This is definitely not a little-known fact about me, but I love U2! I was first introduced in the late 80s and I haven't gone back since. They're Irish, they're witty, their socially conscious, and even though Bono is pushing 50, he can still sing your socks off!

7) I love lemon**! Pretty much anything lemon, I'm all over it! I am rather picky though that lemon has to be the dominant flavour and the overall flavour should be sour, not sweet.

8) Yes, this is retarded, but if I could pick the one thing I miss most about life in WA, I would pick my car. Oh my little Honda, how I loved you. You were so good to me. Sometimes, I dream about you....we're cruising down the highway, U2 is playing, and it doesn't even matter where we're going, we're just together. *sigh*

*Not guaranteed to be interesting, exciting...or even things that nobody knows about me.
**This includes the giant lemon that accompanied U2 on the Popmart Tour. In fact one night they had to make their grand entrance through the Emergency Escape Hatch because the main door malfunctioned.

In a Slump

So I'm having a blogging slump. I'm reading other blogs, leaving the occasional comment, but I just don't have much to write about these days, other than taking up valuable space on the internets complaining about my present level of discomfort.

I should also say, that last week, I succumbed and joined the Evil Time-Sucker that is Facebook. Addictive? Yes. Fabulous? Yes, quite! I was skeptical because I didn't really understand how it functions, but now that I'm on it, it's great! I've already reconnected with six people (and counting) I haven't talked to for at least 5 or more years! But what does that mean? Does that mean I'm now obliged to communicate with them regularly? And what qualifies as regular? And how long is this phenomenon going to go on? Will we stay in touch from now until eternity? Will we still care five years from now? Will Facebook even exist five years from now? Regardless. It's been an intriguing discovery. I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

Presently, it's lunchtime, or something like that. Probably time to put more laundry in the dryer.

Oh and just so you don't feel completely ripped off by this lame-o post, check out this hilarious story of Labour & Delivery I read last night.

We Blinked So of Course, We Missed It

Missed what, you ask? The perfect sunrise? The Sasquatch? The "Biggest Ever" sale at JC Penney? (Silly, those happen every Saturday!) No,

WE MISSED SUMMER!

You'll recall about a week ago I was singing the praises of spring in Northern Maine and rejoicing in the 20C+ weather (I guess I should've sung those praises a little louder over the internets because I can't even find a post where I say enough to warrant putting a link right here, but trust me, it was PERFECT and WARM). We were all excited about walking down to the Dairy Bar for ice cream on a 'hot' summer night, sitting on the porch in our lawn chairs swatting at mosquitoes the size of grapefruits. Alas, it came and went. It's all over. The trees will be dormant by week's end, no doubt, because this morning, there was this:

That's right. Snow (please note today's date on your nearest calendar). So you see here all you Global-Warming Proselytizing Jerks! That's right! David Suzuki, you get your ass over here! And bring your friends: Al Gore, Peter Mansbridge, Wendy Mesley (Dianna Swain and Ian Hannomansing - you're safe! We like the cut of your jib), and your countless other expert and professional friends! Get 'em over here and line 'em up because I'm lacing up my football cleats.

That's right, just like that. I'm not even going to use a blindfold on any of you. Just line up, because my pregnant self is going to go all Bruce Lee on your shins! And then you turn around very slowly (this ain't no Hokey-Pokey, Al, so quit giggling like a school girl), and I'll kick 'em from behind! What's that Mansy? You're too old for this? Well, if you'd been following David's diet plan and "Health Regimen for Life in This Global Warming-Forsaken Country" (TM), you'd be healthy as a horse, no doubt, so too little too late. Turn around, Mister!

Indeed, instead of picnics and barbeques, our thoughts now turn to Thanksgiving turkeys and Christmas lists. At the top of mine:

1) A really warm bathrobe. And not one of those kind that barely covers your ass. We're talking Dumbledore-style here: floor-grazing, fur-lined, we'll skip the fancy hat.

2) A supply of heating oil like manna from heaven. Said supply should require about as much effort on my part as actual manna, so in fact, all I should have to do is wait quietly at the door so I can collect the bill when the oil delivery guy brings it over. The bill that says "Paid, by God." And then the delivery guy would say, "Oh, and we sampled some of the manna on your lawn. Good stuff!"
"No, Sir," I would reply, "that's snow."

Wednesday

So I haven't posted in a couple days. Things have been pretty uneventful around here. It's been cloudy and raining and Husband and I have felt very unmotivated to do anything. I haven't been feeling well - as much nausea as Trimester numero uno. Ugh. (Who knew I'd ever see the day when one wee fajita and two cucumber slices would be too much food?)

I've been sitting here this afternoon fighting the nausea and being horrified by recent pictures of old high school acquaintances on Facebook which I just joined today and I'm not sure I really want to be a part of. I'm also trying to eat a grilled cheese sandwich on homemade wheat bread with lactose-free cheese and a bowl of applesauce. It's slow going.

Oh, and did I mention it's supposed to snow this evening? What's that you say, Bren? Snow? On the 16th of May?

Yes. I feel a funk settling. Blah.

A Bowl of Thankyous and Tiramisu for Dessert

Hey? Do you like that (over there, on the side)? Kind of creepy isn't it? A cyberbaby floating in a bubble....

Some of you know how I've always prided myself (yes, yes, it comes BEFORE the fall, I know) on my lovely 'innie' belly button. Well I can officially see more of it now than ever before in my life (there's a little mole in there!). It's uncomfortable and unsightly, but when I cough, it pops out even more which we find amusing.

Thanks to all of you who left comments regarding co-sleeping and birth plans. A couple of you have emailed me copies of your birth plans which has been super-helpful! We haven't made any sort of 'decision' about co-sleeping, but it's been good to read about all these different experiences - husbands snoring and the like.

We're foregoing our planned trip to Saint John for my post-birthday celebration as I've been feeling rather strange the last couple days and Husband is up painting the nursery. We ARE, however, heading out for pizza and tiramisu tonight. Yum!

And Furthermore

I'm looking for opinions (Whoa! Really!? Bren! YOU are looking for opinions!?!?) about two things (for now). Please leave your opinion(s) on the following baby-related topics (hey, we're coming down to the wire here, it's time!) in the comments section.

1) Co-Sleeping. Did you try it? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Would you do it again? How long did you co-sleep? What did/does your husband think?

2) Birth Plans. Did you have one? Was it helpful? Was it followed? Laughed at? Burned? What would you change next time?

Also, if you read my blog and have one of your own, would you mind very much putting in a plug so I can borrow some of your readers for more opinions? I'd like to get as broad a spectrum of responses as possible. THANKS!

I Should Also Add...

So last Friday, I celebrated a birthday. As an old friend recently reminded me, 'now that we're 28, we can't hide behind the 'mid-20s' label anymore.' Ah, so true.

Husband was finally awake enough to remember to wish me Happy Birthday at breakfast. He also had brought me flowers a few days before. Anniversary/Birthday/Mother's Day flowers. See the picture - tulips are my FAVOURITE!!!

The day was cold and cloudy and it looked like it was going to snow so I wore my new flip flops in defiance. We are only just in the last couple days getting the weather I should've had for my birthday. Sunny and warm (24C yesterday)!

That morning, the Mystery Baby had her sixth ultrasound (lucky girl). The midwife said everything looks great. She's in the 50th percentile in everything which means she's average (except of course, in her intelligence, because we all know you can't measure intelligence with an ultrasound and we also all know that our Mystery Baby has above average intelligence. How do we know? We just know). But I scored an 8 of 8 on...something. I have no idea what, but I understand that's good. We also got a neat picture of her face. She's traded in her regular glasses for sunglasses and it looks hilarious. Then there was the profile picture. Oh no. Mary, the Midwife, said, "Don't worry. All parents are horrified when they first see the nose and lips sticking out like that but it never comes out that way." I'm not worried about the lips, but I know the Loewen/Hamm nose I got stuck with....poor child.

In the afternoon, I was feeling rather down about the whole birthday thing. I think after you graduate from high school or maybe college, fun birthdays are a thing of the past. It's like the world has deemed you a selfish person if you insist on celebrating your birthday by giving up chores for the day. You don't get fancy birthdays with sleepovers and fairy dust or pirates, just laundry to do and dinner to make and bathrooms to clean. Luckily (for both of us), Husband caught the hint and made dinner, which was fabulous! Our first barbeque of the season! Cilantro Turkey burgers - so good! He had also bought me a frozen chocolate cake for dessert. No McCain's Deep 'N' Delicious this time, but it was still chocolaty and fudgy and quite good.

Oh and I got a card that plays sounds! It's Goldie the Goldfish wishing me Happy Birthday and it's supposed to sound like bubbles only it sounds a little more like a turkey. So a kind of ho-hum birthday ended up pretty swell. This Saturday we're heading down to Saint John, NB to explore and celebrate (and go for high tea)!

Our Trip & Two Wishes

I 'promised' last week that I would fill you in on our anniversary trip, but now that I've gotten lazy and haven't posted in several days, I don't feel like it anymore. So I'll just tell you that we left on Thursday and got back on Monday night. We went to Vermont, visited the King Arthur Flour Company (a little disappointing in person), Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream (a very disappointing tour, but the ice cream was good), a couple of breweries (no, I didn't imbibe; I was good, but we did share the most unbelievable Guinness brownie we could ever imagine from a hippie shop in Burlington!), and checked out the Vermont Maple Festival in St. Alban's, VT. Oh, and we had one very intimidating and accidental trip to Dartmouth College. Ooohhh....ivy league....

We also found some great deals shopping which always makes us happy and Husband fought one of his greatest self-admitted-hereditary-impulses and did not buy the North Face jacket he found on sale for $60, regular almost $400. Yes it looked good and it fit well and it was one quality jacket, but Husband doesn't need another jacket. Talk about a moment of Parsimonious-Wife-ly pride!

So, Vermont is beautiful. Burlington, in particular, was quite appealing to us. We did come back suffering from a bit of PHOWHTBBHN (that's Post-Holiday-Oh-We-Have-to-be-Back-Home-Now) Syndrome (similar in all respects to The-Grass-is-Always-Greener-On-the-Other-Side Syndrome). We had a slow, rather uneventful trip but it was relaxing and we had lots of sweet moments and a couple nights, Husband even fell asleep with his hand on my belly communing with the Mystery Baby. Perfect. And that's all I'll say about that.

Now for two wishes I'd love to grant for the pregnant population at large (pun intended):

1) King-sized beds for all! Talk about a let-down (again, pun intended) going from sleeping in all those king beds on holiday and then coming home to the 'measly' old Queen. You're on my SIDE. Move over! Yes, I really DO need another pillow! With a king-sized bed, you hardly know the other person is there! There's plenty of room for a growing pregnant belly AND all the pillows necessary to support it and if you have a husband with long arms (as I do), you don't have to miss out on any cuddling.

2) Expectant-Mother Parking or a temporary handicap parking permit. There were just so many times on our anniversary trip that I wanted to benefit from a closer parking space but so many times it didn't happen. At this point, I don't think the state of Maine has ever heard of Expectant Mother parking so I'll never even get to take advantage of it during this pregnancy. Bummer. It goes to show we should've been in Manitoba this whole time....

My Three-Stone Anniversary Ring*

*Otherwise known as "Sharing a Bit of My Sentimental Self, Two Posts in a Row and Putting Off Telling You About Our Anniversary Holiday Until Tomorrow"

When Husband and I went to pick out my engagement ring in July of 2001, he told me to choose whatever I wanted - "any size, any cost - it doesn't matter." I, in my Menno frugality, chose the 'middle-size diamond' in a ring style that had three size choices. I don't regret my choice because I still admire my ring, it's beautiful (though perhaps due for a cleaning). At the time of this ring choosing, Husband and I decided that since I was choosing a diamond solitaire for my engagement ring, he would hunt down or design the perfect three-stone ring for our fifth anniversary. Some people might think a fifth anniversary is a little soon to be reflecting on the past-present-future by way of a ring, but we thought it would be just right.

So here we are. We just celebrated our fifth anniversary last Friday and my right hand ring finger is still devoid of a three stone ring. Five years have come and gone and if/when the day comes that either one of us will ever be able to say "any size, any cost - it doesn't matter" again, that will be a sweet day indeed. I'm not missing a ring because my Husband forgot, we just couldn't afford it. But more importantly, I've come to the conclusion that as nice as a shiny new ring might be, I don't need a ring to remember why I married Husband five years ago, why I'm happy/grateful/content/lucky to be married to him now, and why I will still want to be married to him five years from now.

These past five years have not always been eventful or perfect. We've discovered a lot of things about each other that drive us crazy: Husband is capable but unwilling to get ready for bed in a decent amount of time every night; I am completely anal about standing on a freshly laundered bath mat with BARE FEET ONLY. Generally, I thrive on multi-tasking; Husband generally can't stand it.

We've also discovered that we are relatively boring people. We don't go out much, we hardly ever rent movies (we can't remember the last time we saw one in a theater). If we're getting together with close friends for dinner and games or going on a day or weekend trip somewhere, we're happy, but usually, we like to stay home.

When we were dating, I enjoyed Husband's sense of humour. Now that we're married, I've learned that he can be downright goofy and I love it! He likes to do silly dances (and recently did one on camera at work which I hope I will never have to see). He likes to laugh and be childlike. I can make anything into a song, which Husband enjoys (perhaps not so much the Getting Ready for Bed Song which includes the words 'oh, why must you be so slow/i can never really know'). And we both have a talent for animating our menagerie of stuffed animals (Boy, that Mr. Bear! He's got talent!).

There are a host of other discoveries about us and things I could share with you about why I love my Husband and why I love being married to him, but I already wrote my longest post ever last time and I have other things to do today. Suffice to say that I'm okay with not getting that ring. We have memories and sentiments that no ring can ever fully symbolize.

Year six is going to be FULL of changes and big events for us. We don't like where we're living, it has been a huge emotional and financial struggle, but we are learning to love each other better and more deeply. And when it comes to our marriage, we are happy. We are content. We are in love. And to the person who once told me that "your husband can never be your best friend" - I'd like to officially tell you - what a crock!