Duck and Goose and Abby

Sorry my videotaping skills aren't too hot, but the sound is what's most important anyway. Happy Halloween!

Your Mama Don't Dance

Abby makes me laugh. I listen to the radio a lot whether I'm at home or in the car, and my favorite stations are classic rock and oldies. Abby has apparently been listening along with me: when Loggins and Messina came on singing about her mama and daddy the other day, she picked up on the important part. She turned to me and said, "Rock 'n roll! Rock 'n roll!" And because Mommy thought it was so funny the first time, she's repeated the performance any time it's mentioned in a song.

Convenient unless you're a cheapskate

I owe Kohl's an apology. Before we went there to find Regis a new coat for work, I pulled an old pair of shoes out of storage and slipped them on. While Rege and Abby perused the menswear section, I strolled with Evangeline through the shoe section, looking for some cute winter shoes. Regis called me over a couple of times to ask my opinion. On my way back from one of these viewings, I noticed what looked like dirt on the floor. "How rude," I thought, "someone is tracking a lot of dirt all through the store." Oddly enough, I kept seeing more and more of it. And looking behind me, it seemed to be following me. I pulled my foot up to see if my shoes were somehow dirty--and discovered that they were disintegrating. Observe:Poor shoes. Doesn't it seem like Fate was trying to hand me a free pass? Especially since Regis said, "Do you want to just buy some new ones so you don't have to walk around in those anymore?" But I am a disgusting cheapskate and instead walked all around the store and ended up buying not shoes for me, but pants for my daughters. I left a Hansel-and-Gretel style trail all through Kohl's, and no joke, the cleaning lady passed by me going back towards the shoe section. The rest of the time she must have followed me at a discreet distance. I feel bad. Because I liked those shoes.

Because

The life of a stay-at-home mom is strange. Today Abby took a nap because I was tired. Sometimes I think she eats because I am hungry. Eventually I expect her to start yawning because I am bored.

Evangeline slept straight through the night last night. It was lovely.

Topics of Conversation

Abby made what I think was her first unprompted sentence the other day, an important developmental milestone. It was "Bees . . . attack . . . you."

Evangeline has been smiling socially for about 3 weeks now. I'd forgotten how devastatingly cute toothless grins are.

Sometimes I feel like a mean wife. Like when I ask Regis, "What do you want for dinner? White chili, salad and sausages, tacos, stir-fry, or omelettes?" and he says "How about stir-fry?" and I say "Let's have tacos." And now you know what's on our menu for this week.

Stop Drop and Roll

My current music crush is "I'm On Fire" by Bruce Springsteen. I feel like that should be funny, for some reason--I really never thought of myself as a Springsteen fan. But the song is nice and sultry-sounding. And guess what? I just got it for free!

Amazon.com is giving away a free MP3 download to a million people, one of which could be you. How exciting. I found out about it here. Go find your own song.

Update: Hilariously, Regis misheard me when he called to chat on his way home, and listened in some confusion as I explained what I'd gotten and that I thought he should get one too. This was only cleared up after he arrived home and I clarified, between giggles, that Amazon is not giving out free thongs.

Looked out the window and what did I see?

Children are funny.

Today as I was cleaning out the linen cupboard (a lofty title for the closet where we shove our 9,765,354 blankets) I pulled out a gray plaid blanket, which holds no particular associations for me, and continued through the pile. Abby snatched up the blanket and started to drag it towards the living room. She paused partway, and dropped it to free her hands so she could say "Pop! Pop!" and do the motions for "Popcorn Popping," one of her favorite songs. I obliged her with the song while returning the blanket to the pile. She ran to the living room and bent down, smacking the carpet while saying "Ugguhguh!" which is what she says when she doesn't know the words for what she wants.

For a while, all this triggered in me was a vague irritation, since Ugguhguh is usually said in a whiny voice. It was several moments before I made the connection. About two months ago, Abby and I had an impromptu picnic on the living room floor, the menu of which had only one item: popcorn. We'd sat on that very gray blanket. Once the lightbulb went on, I asked Abby if popcorn was what she wanted. I'm so glad she's not old enough to say "DUH!"

So we had another enjoyable popcorn picnic, and I mused on two important points: these little moments of fun with just the two of us are apparently meaningful and memorable for Abby--and we have too many blankets.

Grrrr

I love to read books. Fiction books, and mysteries in particular are my favorites.

I HATE reading books in which the main character or characters are stupid.

For example, there is a series in which the protagonist, Sebastian St. Cyr, is supposed to be this brilliant detective. His lover, an actress, is also supposed to be clever. Despite the author's continual harping on the facts that Sebastian has strange eyes, that his "father" has never liked him, and that his mother was notoriously promiscuous, the detective and his honey somehow don't realize (presumably until the last book, which I haven't read) that Sebastian is a bastard child, which forces them to part because Kat turns out to be the child of his "father." This would be tragic, if I wasn't so disgusted with their stupidity that I didn't care what happened to either of them anymore. The real tragedy is that I can't bring myself to finish the series, which leaves me feeling slightly guilty.

I've always liked The Scarlet Pimpernel, although recently I've noticed how cheesy parts of it are. I guess a lot of things I like are cheesy, like nachos. But right now I'm reading El Dorado, a further adventure of the Pimpernel, which has precipitated this rant. Armand is an idiot. The plot of this book better be darn good, because the main character is irritating the heck out of me.

Ouch

"An executive for an anti-animal cruelty group says her 16-year-old blind and deaf dog died after she accidentally left him in her hot car for four hours."

Well, if she belongs to a cruelty group that is anti-animal, that makes sense, doesn't it?


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32569213/ns/us_news-life?gt1=43001

Guess What?

I showered today.



(enthusiastic applause)

A Nice Surprise

A few minutes ago, as I tried to convince Abby to lay down and take a nap, I had a Motherhood Moment. Simultaneously, Evie started screaming, the phone started ringing, and someone pushed the doorbell and knocked, and I thought to myself, What a wonderful wooooorld!* I'm sure I looked the picture of overwhelmed young motherhood as I skirted two carseats to open the door to my laundry- and toy-strewn apartment, hair askew, wearing stretchy exercise pants, with my infant wailing on the floor behind me. I think the delivery guy was smirking while I signed for my box. After several attempts, I finally got both girls down for a nap and snuck back into the living room to see what I'd been sent.

For the moment, all is well with the world.



I have thirty pounds of sleeping children and four pounds of Jelly Bellies.

I love my Brook.

*That's not really what I thought, but it's much more suitable for publication.

Moooooo

Evie had her first doctor's appointment today. After checking out her chart, the doc observed, "You must be making full cream." Normally, they look for babies to be back to their birth weights by the two week mark. Evie was 7 lb 2 oz at birth--she's now 8 lb even.

Hooray for Grandma

My mom is here visiting and taking care of me while I get used to taking care of two little girls. Abby is having a blast with her, and it's been SOOOO nice to have another pair of arms to rock Evie. :) We're all very glad she is willing and able to come.

Hey, hey baby!

I am overwhelmed.

I am overwhelmed by lots of different feelings. I have a deep feeling of love for my sweet little girls, and my loving, wonderful husband. I am amazed by how much bigger and more mature Abby seems now that I have Evie to compare her with. I am terrified of the future.


Evangeline was born on July 29th at 1:24 am. She was 7 lbs 2 oz and 19 inches.

Going the Distance

My mom went square dancing the night before my eldest sister was born. In that spirit, Regis suggested that we spend this late afternoon and evening doing this:

If you've spent any significant time in Provo, you should recognize our surroundings. Here is what Wikipedia says about it. We all had lots of fun and got very tired. I got lots of smiles, a few funny looks, and some compliments, but so far not the result we were aiming for.

In case you were wondering

I hope none of you have been waiting with bated breath, or especially baited breath, since trying to catch something with bait in your mouth has got to be unpleasant. My current bodymate has declined to become my housemate thus far, and while I can understand being cautious in the current economic climate, I sure wish I had the authority, as landlady, to evict her. This translates to: the baby isn't born yet. I wish she was. Rocky Mountain Wingshak spicy wings and a long walk have failed to dislodge her. So has cleaning the house thus far. Any other suggestions?

Yoink!

I've graduated from maternity to paternity clothes: My own tops no longer fit over my belly, so I'm wearing Regis' shirts. Some of them are surprisingly flattering. That doesn't mean I want to keep wearing them for long.

Last Place

I had an appointment this week to check on how the baby is cooking, and my doctor commented, "I've delivered all the babies due this month except for yours." Way to make me feel like I'm holding up the line, Doc.

My big sister had her first baby last week, and she has sweet tiny baby legs and a droll little mouth all drawn up like a bow.

I think the real reason women get tired of being pregnant in the ninth month is because people keep asking them if they are.

Keep on Rockin'

Last week, while Regis had his time off, we went up to Bridal Veil Falls. Regis and I enjoyed the scenery, while Abby enjoyed dropping rocks in the water. We were there for probably an hour, and the whole time she wanted us to provide continuous handfuls of rocks for her to drop, one by one, into the stream. I have no idea why it was so thrilling, but she enjoyed it a lot.

Birthday and Nesting

Today is Regis' birthday. To celebrate his senescence, we bought him a rocking chair yesterday. Well, to be truthful, we bought the rocker as a combination Father's Day, birthday, and anniversary gift, so I guess that means Regis gets to sit in it 3/4 of the time. June is an eventful month for us.

This weekend has been a lot of fun. Regis took a couple of days off from work so that we could get to some big projects we've been meaning to do before the baby comes. Our carpets are now cleaned, our bedroom is organized, our bathtub is re-caulked. My brother Glenn and his family came for a visit which was too short, but tons of fun. We also had a lot of time to relax and enjoy just being together as a family. We've decided Regis definitely needs to take days off more often, although we suspect it will be VERY hard for him to go back to work on Monday. Abby and I will certainly miss having Daddy around during the day.

I haven't been very good about blogging lately, so I'll try to make up for it with some fun pictures later this week.