This little life of mine

Threats

2012-02-05T11:13:00.002-06:00

Yep. We make them. Not physically abusive or terroristic threats, but threats nonetheless. Lindsay is now of the age that there is some level of reasoning that can be effective. She's still 2, so it clearly doesn't work great, but it is reasoning. But when the reasoning fails, it often digresses into a threat.

That brings us to Thursday night. We were having our friends over for dinner (damnit, SUPPER!) on Friday and that meant Lindsay's best buddy, Evan, would be coming over. So during SUPPER on Thursday night, I told Lindsay that Evan was coming over to play tomorrow night. Of course, she was super excited and could hardly wait for the next night.

Well, as it usually goes, we had to battle to get her to eat her supper, take a bath, etc. So what did I use as "motivation?" That's right...Evan's visit.

Me: "Do you want Evan to come over tomorrow?"

Lindsay: "YES!"

Me: "Then you need to eat your chicken (which really was pork, but she'll only eat meat that is chicken, so we call all meat chicken....another post for another day because lying probably isn't a good thing either)."

Lindsay: "NO!"

Me: "Well, I'll call Lindsay and Jeremy and tell them not to bring Evan tomorrow."

Lindsay: *eats a bite of "chicken"*

Worked like a charm. We got her to eat supper, take a bath, change her clothes in the morning and even pick up some of her toys. Although, at one point she did call my bluff, but I think that was a miscommunication on her part. At least I hope it was because lord help me if she already has picked up on this newest tactic of mine and decided I don't have the follow-through.

So, I guess as long as it works, I've become a fun terrorist. I was starting to feel guilty about doing it, but then I think back to Christmas and I remember hearing a lot of parents saying Santa wouldn't come if the child didn't listen or behave. So I guess I'm not the only fun terrorist....or at least I don't think I am. I really hope all those kids that weren't listening didn't miss out on Santa.

No January?

2012-02-01T08:26:00.002-06:00

Maybe I missed it, but my calendar says February and my last blog post says December! Whoopsie.

Because I've been so lacking, I present to you this blog's first video. A stirring rendition of "The Wheels on the Bus." A slow start, but make sure you stick around until the 1-minute mark to see what a "Mommy" on the bus says. Hmmm...

If I had kept the camera rolling just a little longer, you would've seen what a "Daddy" says on the bus. Apparently they say, "Sit down now!" Not sure which of us is painted in the worst light by this song.

Multi-tasking

2011-12-12T20:27:00.002-06:00

Some days, you don't have time to get everything done....so you are forced to do two things at once. You know, like catching up on the latest art methods and going to the bathroom.

The power of math?

2011-11-18T14:27:00.004-06:00

Three months ago, I had no idea what/who Team Umizoomi was. Never heard of them. But suddenly, Lindsay was constantly asking for them. So, we built up our Tivo library of Team Umizoomi episodes and the rest is history. Lindsay is OBSESSED!

For that that don't know who Team Umizoomi is, they are miniature trio of problem-solvers who use their "Mighty Math Powers" to solve the "problems" of the citizens of UmiCity, who all live in a town paved with origami. Yep...you read that right. Between you and me, the "problems" they solve are more like annoying sidenotes in an adult's day than they are real problems, but I suppose to toddlers a parent being stuck in traffic with the cake for their birthday party is a real serious problem. Here's a picture of them for those that haven't seen them before (that's Milli, Geo and Bot for those keeping track at home).

Anyway, Lindsay is obsessed. I'm not exaggerating even the slightest when I say she asks to watch Team Umizoomi before she even opens her eyes in the morning. No "good morning" or "I love you"....it's "I wanna watch Team Umizoomi" and then she gets off her bed and groggily stumbles to the living room.

Her obsession reached a point of no return the other day. We've been trying potty train her for the last week or so. About three days in she is sitting on the potty chair and she looks up in the air and says, "Need help Team Umizoomi!" (That's what the "Umi Friends" say after explaining their problem to the trio.)

I almost fell over laughing. She was asking Team Umizoomi for help to go potty in the potty chair. However, I tried to keep my composure to see what would be next. She just stared into the air, apparently waiting for Team Umizoomi to appear in the bathroom. After about 30 seconds of staring into the air she looks back at me and says, "Team Umizoomi not coming" in the saddest, most dejected little voice you can imagine. (Those are the breaks, kiddo.)

So apparently Team Umizoomi can't solve potty training problems with their Mighty Math Powers....which is disheartening on some level because I consider it an actual problem. Or maybe they can because she did go potty before getting off the chair.

Could you resist?

2011-10-26T20:50:00.003-05:00

I don't care how busy you are. If your 2-year-old offers you "coffee" during the middle of a task, you "drink it" and you enjoy it.

Dinner can wait, right?

Lindsay's lines

2011-10-11T12:32:00.000-05:00

My Lindsay spent some time with our very good friend Lindsay (who is 9 months preggo right now) this past weekend. I was trying to explain to my Lindsay that our friend Lindsay is having a baby and that baby is in her tummy right now.

Low and behold, last night my Lindsay walked up to me, stuck out her belly and said, "There's a baby in there!"

I thought it was hilarious. Kevin said, "There better not be." Our friend Lindsay said, "She is HILARIOUS." Her response was over text though, so I'm not sure if she was laughing or just fed up with being pregnant. I'm guessing the latter.

Either way, I'm still laughing about it today. Sure wish I would've got a picture of her little belly sticking out as photographic proof though.

Parenting Mistake #2

2011-09-12T12:48:00.003-05:00

Don't ever forget your child's favorite stuffed animal that she insists on sleeping with each night at the hotel you stayed at the past weekend.

I accidentally left "Beaver" at the Kelly Inn in Fargo this past weekend. Lindsay loves that thing. Never sleeps without it. Here's the photographic proof:

The good news is that they have it and my brother is going to bring it back to us this weekend.

The bad news is that last night was a disaster and her and I ended up sleeping on the couch all night and she cried off and on throughout the night. Maybe it is a coincidence and she just had a rough night of sleep as a function of very little napping over the weekend and lots of excitement the past 2 weeks.

I hope that is the case, but I'm not confident. This could end up being a very long week.

I'm no tough guy

2011-09-07T15:38:00.003-05:00

I talked awfully big about my 2 kid-free weeks. All the fun things I would do and how great it would be to have all that peace and quiet.

While I've indeed had a lot of fun with Kevin and my friends, I have to say that I'm officially over it. We've golfed, went to a movie in the theater, eaten out, went to the State Fair, drafted fantasy football teams, went to sporting events and concerts and camped. All fun!

But....I want to see the kiddo. It's too quiet and I'm too old to have all that adult fun anymore. Sitting at home and reading kid books, watching Dora and playing in the sandbox is what I now crave more than anything else. I'm at peace with it. I'm old and I'm in love with a little blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl.

How could you not miss this face? Can't wait to see her this weekend!

Parenting Mistake -- first entry

2011-08-14T20:51:00.001-05:00

Not sure I've made a much bigger parenting mistake prior to tonight.

Tip: NEVER show your 2-year-old new Dora sheets for her new big girl bed 20 minutes before bedtime.

Technology!

2011-08-11T15:17:00.003-05:00

As a parent, sometimes you start to feel a little sorry for yourself (or at least I do). You know, like those times when you see younger, cooler people with no kids having fun or when you are busy running errands with a whiny kid and you see a retiree taking their time to stroll through the aisles of Target.

On a recent drive back to North Dakota was one of those times. It was just Lindsay and I in the car and not even 30 minutes away from our house, she became irritable and a downright crabass.* I had 9 hours in the car and we couldn't even make it to the western suburbs before the trip was a disaster.

*Sidebar: Not that I blame her. Have you seen the carseats these days? I'm obviously on board with them because of the superb safety, but she may as well be in an enclosed padded box that is harnessed to the backseat. She can't see outside, can't reach for anything and has no one to play with back there.

Anyway, it was at that point I remembered that we had recently purchased a portable DVD player so that she could watch cartoons on long trips. Talk about a godsend. We pulled over, threw in a Nick, Jr. DVD and we were good to go. Even more of a godsend, that DVD had 6 episodes on it and automatically looped back around to the beginning when it ended! Check out this happy camper!

Yes, you read that right. I let her watch 6 episodes in a row and even let it loop back around to the beginning and start over. Judge all you want, but that was a phenomenal drive back to good, ol' ND! Happy kid and momma got to throw on her iPod and listen to P!nk, JT and Rihanna to her heart's content with no whiny interruptions whatsoever!

Honestly, I'm not sure how our parents made it without one of these miracle machines. One less thing for me to feel sorry for myself about. Guess I'm going to have to take my martyr business elsewhere.

Happy Birthday!

2011-07-07T11:02:00.003-05:00

I make a lot of observations and funny commentary (well, poor attempts at humor at least) on here, but the truth is, I don't know what I'd do without my little girl. She's enriched my life more than I could have ever imagined. So a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY (which she still doesn't understand the concept of....to her it appears to be just a reason to sing a fun song) to my smart, independent, funny and beautiful girl!

A Whole New Level

2011-06-27T22:23:00.003-05:00

After a weekend in which her babysitter (who had her all day Saturday and Sunday) said to me that Lindsay was awesome, easy and never whined or cried about anything, today was something else. After picking Lindsay up from daycare, she said she wanted a juicebox. I told her that she could have one when we got home.

And that's when all hell broke loose.

She literally lost her shit immediately after me saying "Sure, when we get home you can." I have never heard her scream so loud or high-pitched. I whipped my head around because I thought something had to have come through the door and attacked her or something.

But no, she was screaming a horror-movie quality scream while kicking her legs and pounding her fists. I honestly couldn't believe it was happening, let alone that she went from 0 to 60 in 3 seconds. I figured I had a good 10 years before I had to deal with this. Holy smokes.

It lasted for the next 90 seconds (a VERY LONG time when that noise is being made), at which time I decided I would take the time to stop at the gas station just so I could rest my ears for a couple minutes while the car filled. And wouldn't you know it, the second I got out and closed the door she stopped screaming. I guess even she couldn't keep up the fake drama of the 5-minute wait for a juice box.

I'm not sure if I won the battle or not, because she still got her juicebox about 20 minutes later.

She's no dummy

2011-06-14T20:32:00.002-05:00

The other morning I was kneeling next to Lindsay and checked her diaper for poop. I asked, "Did you poop or was it just a toot?" To my delight, no poop.

Just then I may have farted. I'll deny it, but obviously there is a reason Lindsay did what she did next.

She walked behind me, pulled on my pajama pants, looked in my underwear and said, "Mommy poop?"

Another redneck moment...

2011-04-30T23:22:00.004-05:00

If I've learned anything since becoming a parent, it's that you have to be flexible and at times, need to improvise. That lesson was never more prevalent than on Easter Sunday. Kevin and I had separate vehicles at dinner and he left a little earlier than Lindsay and I. Just before Kevin left, I changed Lindsay's diaper and put the bag back in Kevin's car. When he left, so did the diaper bag. And sure enough, Lindsay destroyed her diaper about 10 minutes later.

We were at my cousin Laura's house and being a kid-free environment, there weren't any diapers on the premises. We tried stuffing Lindsay's pants with paper towel, but that wasn't working so great. But then Laura came up with a genius idea.....a maxi-pad. Of course, that would never work for an extended period of time, but for a 45-minute trip home, it might suffice.

So we rigged it up:

Wouldn't you know it if it didn't work? We put in the maxi-pad, threw down some paper towel in her car seat just in case and hit the road. When we got home, no messes!

I can't say I'm surprised that it was another Pfeifer that was my partner in crime for this redneck-esque act, but I realized that redneck or not, improvisation can be added to my list of skills.

A face only a parent could love

2011-04-21T15:17:00.000-05:00

We've spent the last 6 days basically quarantined inside our house with a sick child. And not just sick...vomiting and pooping kind of sick. After 2 days of it, our house smelled somewhere between a port-a-potty and the bucket next to hot-dog eating contest. Absolutely disgusting. Hope you enjoy that mental inhale. Thank goodness for the last couple of nice days so we could air this place out.

But now it seems we've turned the corner to just a cold. That is, if you can consider this just a cold:

In case you can't quite see it well enough, that is a layer of snot flowing out of her nose. That is what she looks like every single time I turn around it seems.

I do have to say that at least while we are home, it may be disgusting, but it isn't a pain in the butt. The other day I was driving her to daycare and she sneezed really hard. When I turn around, it's all over her face. Turn around 10 seconds later and she's wiping that stuff all over her face and into her mouth. Phenomenal. I honestly never thought I'd pull a car over for snot, but I couldn't have her eating the equivalent of a Playdoh container full of snot in one sitting. At least spread that out over a few days.

Even better is the paste that this stuff leaves on her face when she wakes up in the morning. I honestly feel like I need nail polish remover to get that stuff off. Lindsay cries and whines when I'm trying to clean it off and I can't say I blame her. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy a chisel and sandpaper to my face every morning.

So what I'm saying is, thank goodness spring is here. Because after the last few weeks of sickness, I'd been thinking about taking the best offer for her. Kevin's really had an eye on a projector television for the basement....and I can't deny it would be pretty sweet to watch full-size Kardashians on rerun.

Coming soon...

2011-04-21T10:44:00.000-05:00

...to a blog near you. A blogger who updates her blog.

Sh*t My Daughter Says

2011-01-30T13:49:00.000-06:00

Obviously the title is a total rip-off of the book I'm reading for bookclub, but it fits too perfectly. Lindsay has started "talking" constantly. She has a lot to say, but no one can understand any of it. And if I had to guess, I'd think she was constantly usingt the naughty version of the word "poop." Seriously, everything she says sounds like the word "sh*t."

Shut = sh*t.

Kip = sh*t.

Chair = sh*t.

Shoe = sh*t.

Lip = sh*t.

Chip = sh*t.

Stick = sh*t.

I could go on, but basically every one syllable word somehow comes out as the word sh*t. Greatly amusing to me. She's a 1 1/2-year-old sailor. I love trying to say what the babble is.

- If she's sitting in her highchair and talking, I'm certain she is saying, "I'm not going to eat that sh*t!"

- Changing her diaper..."Hurry up and get this sh*t out of my diaper."

- Looking out the window at all the snow..."I can't believe this sh*tty weather."

- Watching clips of Michelle Bachmann...."I can't believe the sh*t that comes out of her mouth!"

I doubt that is what she is saying, but just in case, her potty-mouthed mother better clean up the language from here on out.

Naked Gun(s) 1 1/2

2011-01-26T21:37:00.000-06:00

For awhile, all Lindsay wanted to do was put more clothes on. She was constantly pulling on more layers of clothes by wearing onesies as pants or pants on her arms. Other than the fact that it was often the clothes I was trying to fold, it was a pretty cute habit.

In the last few weeks, that layering habit is no longer. Now it is a naked habit. She can't get her shirts off yet, but she is constantly pulling her pants down and even more often, completely removing her pajamas. This is what I walked into one morning when she woke up:

The pants coming off is really an interesting move. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it. Kitchen? Pants come off. Watching cartoons? Pants come off. Picking up toys? Pants come off.

That is Lindsay on Christmas morning. She can't even keep her pants on for Jesus. Although, in her defense, tights are REALLY uncomfortable.

Now the pants is one thing, but the pajamas are a whole different ballgame. It's gotten to the point where we try not to put her pajamas on until right before bed because she'll just take them off and run around naked anyway. But the funniest thing is when she just unzips the front and walks around like some white-trash king. I feel like if we gave her a gold chain, she'd be pulling the look off perfectly. Check it out:

It's all fun and games for now, but I'm only giving it until preschool. She's not leaving the house if the tendencies continue at that point.

Gifted? Probably not.

2011-01-23T09:25:00.000-06:00

The other morning I had a little time to kill before I could drop Lindsay off at daycare, so I decided to get out evening bath out of the way in the morning. I brought Lindsay in the shower with me and afterwards I put her little robe on and she ran out of the bathroom into the living room. As I was drying my hair, I see Lindsay walk back into the bathroom and take some toilet paper off the roll and walk back out into the living room.

I was more than a little curious because usually she just eats the toilet paper. I walked out to find her wiping something off the floor. Turns out she peed on the floor while standing there with her robe on, but no diaper on. She then proceeded to walk back to the bathroom, get some toilet paper, walk back to the living room and attempt to clean it up.

I couldn't believe it! Clearly, she must be gifted. Normal 18-month-olds just don't have these sorts of abilities. I was just getting ready to sign her up for classes for gifted children when Kevin pointed out that the fact she stood in the living and peed on the floor might be a sign that gifted isn't the word we should use to describe her.

Point taken. No gifted classes for now.

I've got no legs!

2011-01-05T21:24:00.000-06:00

Or so you'd think. We have officially entered the tantrum zone. Sweet-natured 90% of the time, but that other 10% is proving to be equal parts hilarious and incredibly frustrating. One moment you have this staring at you....

....and the next moment you have this laying at your feet.

The first few times it was cute and funny....almost endearing. The next few times it was somewhat comical, but getting a little old. After that it was just downright maddening and absolutely ridiculous. And that was in the first hour of her starting this new trick.

I mean, look at this. Like really closely.

Did I push her off a chair? Did I abuse her puppy? Did I take her favorite toy away? No, no and no.

What did I do? Well, would you believe me if I told you that I took my shoes off? Believe it or not, that is what I did to incite this scene. Apparently she didn't like my socks. Or maybe I have smelly feet.

I'd like to say that it usually doesn't come out for something so mundane, but in all actuality, it is always because of something mundane. We shut the door....tantrum. We wash the dishes....tantrum. We take her out of her high chair when she is done eating....tantrum. It is probably 5 or 6 times a day that she loses all control of her leg muscles and collapses to the ground in an apparent bout of temporary paralysis. I just wish it were her lungs that were paralyzed during the tantrums.

Indentured servancy

2010-11-09T17:30:00.000-06:00

One of the main reasons Kevin and I decided to have children is for the free labor. Who doesn't want someone to do all that housework? Obviously, it takes a few years for them to be old enough to do the work, but certainly it would be worth the wait. Well, in a sure sign that Lindsay is gifted, she's already helping out around the house.

Scrubbing the kitchen floor:

Getting ready to fix a small toilet back-up:

And, I guess this is dusting?

At 1 1/2, some gifted kids play the piano, some read and some speak 3 languages. Ours? Well, she's well on her way to being the best damn housekeeping toddler a parent could ask for. Although based on that last example, she just may have farther to go than I'd like to admit.

Teenager in a one-year-old body

2010-10-27T20:57:00.000-05:00

Each passing day brings a more independent and slightly more, um, let's say "sassy" Lindsay. There is no doubt when something isn't right in her world....she'll let us know. Aside from the vocal notifications, she has started to pick up some very teenager-like mannerisms.

For instance, she loves the car. Not riding in it. She wants to drive. Whenever she is outside when we get home, she insists on testing out the driver's seat.

We are going to have to watch the keys closely, I think.

She is also totally into lounging around the living room....often with an annoyed look on her face when we break out the camera. I believe this is the "Really? We are doing this again?" look.

The day that clinched it for me was when I walked into the living to see her texting. Granted, it is just an old phone we let her play with, but it certainly seems she has the hang of it. 10,000 texts and minutes a month, here we come.

If she starts growing up any faster, I fully expect Kevin to lock her in her room until she's 30. So if you don't see her for awhile, you should know the first place to look.

Don't tell me it's raining

2010-10-19T09:53:00.000-05:00

Lindsay has a peeing problem. Nothing medical or serious…she just pees A LOT at night. A few weeks ago Kevin and I woke up to a puddle of pee between our heads one night when she was sleeping with us (yes, we know….her sleeping in our bed is a whole other issue for another day). She had literally peed so much between 9pm and 5am that it had soaked through her diaper, through her pajamas and was being soaked up by our sheets and mattress. Disgusting with a capital ‘D’.

Then it was brought to our attention that they make night-time diapers that are extra-absorbent. And boy are they. I’m convinced these things could hold a gallon of water. So…problem solved.

Wrong.

Yesterday morning she was extra crabby when she woke up, so I sat down with her to cuddle for a bit before doing anything else.

Bad idea.

About 2 minutes into our cuddling session, I suddenly feel as if I’m peeing my pants. There was literally a stream of liquid running down my lap and down my leg. After about 5 seconds, I realize what is likely happening and I lift Lindsay up to see a stream of pee coming through her pajamas and onto my lap. Not wanting to let her pee to stream across the living room and into her room, I’m forced to basically let her finish before moving her. I’m certain the blanket I pulled over the top of my lap and my pajama pants won’t ever be the same.

This kid seriously doesn’t care if her diaper is full of pee or poop. And now, even brimming to the brink of the dam breaking, she has no problem sitting in that mess. I fear for her later in life.

At least I can take solace in that it wasn't poop coming out of the diaper. That is a lot more difficult to clean up than pee and certainly something I don't want to deal with before my morning coffee.

Fashionista

2010-10-03T11:40:00.000-05:00

I am staging an intervention. Since the robe and baseball hat day, things have become worse.

Last weekend it was PJ bottoms and no shirt....I hope the urge to not wear a shirt stops by the time she reaches kindergarten.

And the next day it was wearing her life jacket around the house.

I fear we are one step away from her wearing raw food around. I guess we've been listening to a little too much Lady Gaga. Time to turn on the Taylor Swift instead.

White trash party...

2010-09-27T23:04:00.000-05:00

I know the saying is, "you can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trailer park out of the girl", but I never figured it would pass to the next generation. Sure, I'll always have those white trash tendencies, but my daughter?

Well, guess what, folks.....it has happened. This is what happens when I let Lindsay pick out her clothes.

She's definitely a Pfeifer. I almost gave her a cigarette to carry in her hand and sent her out to pick up my newspaper. Thought that might shock the neighbors too much though.

Who loves fantasy football?

2010-09-01T22:17:00.000-05:00

Lindsay does...that's for sure.

Shortly after our fantasy football draft started, Kevin got called into the hospital and I was left alone to parent AND draft two fantasy football teams. I can hardly find time to go to the bathroom during a fantasy football draft, let alone fit in drafting another team and shoot a glance at my child every now and again.

Good thing Lindsay realizes the importance of my fantasy football team on my fall/winter mood and played quietly....or so I thought. This is her somewhere around Round 7 of the 15 round draft.

Exhibit 1 in her case against us when she's a teenager. But hopefully by then she'll realize how important it was for me to be able to draft Matthew Stafford as a potential keeper in the later rounds.

Mr. Hankey's home

2010-08-18T20:35:00.000-05:00

Our little gal is now walking. And it is totally awesome, but it brings a host of problems with it. First and foremost, she is basically a ninja. Turn your head and she's gone....and made no sound leaving. When she was crawling, her hands would make a noise as she put them on the floor. No more, folks.

Case in point.

A few mornings ago, Lindsay and I were sleeping in bed (our bed, not hers). I was awake and decided to get up and leave her there. I turned on the monitor and in my best dork impression, hooked it to my pants like those folks that hook their cell phones to their belts. I put some laundry in the washer, did the dishes and made some coffee. While waiting for the coffee to finish, I go to the bathroom to find Lindsay in there. Total ninja move because the monitor didn't go off at all!

Now if that were conclusion to the story, I wouldn't have told it. Any guesses as to what she was doing in the bathroom?

If you guessed unrolling the toilet paper roll, you'd be partially right.

If you guessed taking that toilet paper and dunking it in the toilet water, you'd again be partially right.

If you guessed taking that toilet paper out of the toilet and sucking the water out of it, well, then you'd have hit the nail on the head.

That's right. Our cute little girl likes drinking toilet water as much as our dog, Kip. Only in our house. At least it had been cleaned the day before, I guess.

And if you are wondering why there is no photographic proof, well, I guess she found one of my boundaries of where I stop the action before taking a picture.

Monkey business

2010-08-01T19:50:00.000-05:00

As exciting as all these stages are, the more mobile our little punkers gets, the more terrifying she becomes. Earlier this month, Lindsay figured out how to get onto the couch without our assistance...which isn't that great because I can't count the number of times she has already fallen off the couch. And those were with our supervision. Great supervision, I know.

But now, she can do it on her own. She pushes her little toybox over to the couch, then pushes her little music table over next to it. From there, she crawls into the toybox...

...and then crawls on top of the music table.

After that it is a small hop up to the couch.

What you see above is actually our ottoman. But from there she can crawl onto the couch and as of today, crawl onto the coffee table. No lie, two times today, when either Kevin or I was in the bathroom, we came out to her sitting on the coffee table. Which means she got into the toybox, onto the music table, onto the ottoman, crawled across the couch, over the arm of the couch and onto the coffee table. When Kevin came out of the bathroom, he found her dunking her hand in his coffee.

Awesome.

Thankfully it wasn't hot anymore and there weren't any burns.

Now that our little girl is on the verge of walking, I will never again think an infant is difficult. Mobility is awesome to watch, but basically a nightmare. If nothing else, however, we've determined she should be quite the problem-solver and puzzle-solver.

It probably wouldn't be so bad if once she was on top of higher ground, she sat and played. Instead, she continues to be a dare-devil once on top of the couch or table or TV stand.

Just yesterday we watched her crawled up to the couch and then stand up tall on top of it. I'm sure that is safe.

I wish I could say this is the worst of her climbing and daredevil behavior. I'd be lying if I told you that. We are clearly awesome parents.

Who needs toys?

2010-06-01T22:26:00.000-05:00

Kids get a lot of toys. I mean, A LOT of toys. We've hardly purchased any toys ourselves, yet she has a toy box full, a bin in the living room full and numerous "big ticket" toys that take up half our living room. One would think with all those toys, our little child would never be bored with the colors, noises, textures, etc. Yet every time I look her way, she isn't carrying a toy in hands...instead she has yet another object in her mouth. You name the item and she has played with it despite being told no.

Computer and computer cord? Check.

Dog bowl? Check.

Empty pop bottle? Check.

Of course, these are just a sampling of the non-toys she insists on playing with. I've walked in with her chewing on rawhides (who knew they were for kids too?), pens, shampoo bottles, digging in the bathroom garbage, carrying our shoes and slippers, darting for our adult beverages and dragging around folded laundry (well, folded before she got ahold of it).

But the other day I learned the importance of getting my groceries put away immediately. After a trip to Target, I came home and set the bags on the floor so I could get dinner started and change out of my work clothes. After what amounted to about 90 seconds out of the room, I came back to this:

She managed to find the box, open it up and pull out a tampon. Simply amazing. If I had asked Kevin to get one out of the box for me, there's no way he could've had it done in 90 seconds. I guess I now know who to go on those tampon runs for me. Guess that "birds and the bees" talk may have to come quite a bit earlier than expected.

I thought teething was about teeth

2010-05-16T09:38:00.000-05:00

Teething...seems pretty self-explanatory, right? Baby gets teeth. That couldn't be farther from the truth. Actually getting the teeth is the least memorable part of the experience....and when I say memorable, I don't mean it in a good way.

Yes, Lindsay has teeth. But the 2 weeks it took to get them was a remarkable journey. Our sweet, little, perfect baby turned into a whiny, sick, oozing monster.

The first clue that something was up is that she became incredibly needy. Once able to self-entertain for quite awhile, the second we set her down, she starts screaming and giving us a look like we killed her puppy. Here's where I'd normally insert photographic evidence, but the look breaks us down so fast that we could never actually get a picture of it. It's impossible to not pick her up immediately. She wins this battle everytime. We are suckers.

The next clue was a slight fever...and now we can see the teeth trying to push through. Fever = bad. Not necessarily for any reason other than a fever means no daycare. No daycare means no work. No work means no money. So now the teeth are hitting the pocketbook and they aren't even through the skin yet. I thought that at least wouldn't start until a trip to the dentist was in order.

Finally, the most bizarre symptom of teething...diarrhea. Serious diarrhea. And this one makes no sense to me. How a couple teeth pushing through the skin in her mouth could cause diarrhea, I have no idea. But it happened. A lot. And in disgusting fashion. Three separate times during a 2-day period, this was our reality...

Check out all the poop in the water...we aren't talking about just a little mess here. These were two-step baths. Rinse the poop off, drain the water and then fill up the bath with more water and give an actual bath. Absolutely disgusting. I'm just amazed we were lucky enough that it happened somewhere with a bath each time. What would I have done if we were at a restaurant or something?

If you look very closely at this picture, you'll see what all that fuss was about...two little teeth poking through on the bottom of her mouth. Yep...only two teeth that are only about 1cm big thus far. How many teeth do kids get again? Because I think I might ship her off during those couple weeks each time another set starts sprouting.

Mother's Day...I like it

2010-05-13T17:14:00.000-05:00

Growing up, we didn't have Mother's Day traditions (sorry Mom). It usually was a pretty typical Sunday Funday for the Pfeifer clan. We'd load up in the Ford Escort Wagon, three kids in the back sharing two seatbelts and make the hourlong trek to Minot to spend the day with the extended family...grandparents, aunts/uncles and cousins. That was what we did most Sundays I was growing up -- and in fact, my grandma's house still hosts every Sunday. Pretend the actors and actresses from the movie Soul Food are white and you have a general idea of what I mean.

So coming into my first Mother's Day, I didn't really know what to expect. There are tons of commercials on TV and the radio and people kept asking "Do you have big plans for Mother's Day?" It clearly must be a big deal. Despite all that, I didn't have any plans. No brunch reservations, no trips to visit family and no activities in mind.

Turns out, that was a pretty darn good decision. First, I woke up to Kevin (and Lindsay) making me waffles and eggs while I read the newspaper and drank coffee. I could handle that everyday. Then the day was my oyster...or something like that. I decided on the zoo. After a pit stop for a beer and apps at my favorite restaurant, off to the zoo we went!

Anyone that knows me, knows I love the zoo. In particular, I love the bears and the tigers. The bears were a little standoffish, but what a treat we got when we got to the tigers! One was pacing right in the viewing area. Just in case you can't tell from the picture, there is glass between Lindsay and the tiger...I didn't throw her inside the cage.

After the zoo, we had great intentions to head home, grill some dinner and call it a night. Instead, it was so nice out we got the firepit rolling and decided to order pizza instead! That may have been my slickest effort at getting out of making dinner ever! So we had a few drinks around the firepit before calling it a night. Lindsay particularly enjoyed her first "bonfire".

I keep telling her she needs to lay off the bottle a little, but clearly I'm losing the battle.

After going inside, Kevin even picked the "chick flick" of our Netflix movies to watch that night. Let me tell you, "Rachel Getting Married" is no chick flick. It's damn depressing is what it is. But despite the downer of a movie, the day was awesome. We may not have started any traditions, but I'd take that day all over again every year. Can't wait to drag Lindsay to the zoo when she's 16 and make her sit around the firepit with her lame parents.

What attitude?

2010-03-23T20:58:00.000-05:00

So those that have known me for a long time will tell you I have a bit of an attitude sometimes and have a tendency towards independence. Well, I may have had my first "like mother, like daughter" moment this evening. I was trying to help Lindsay stand against the couch this evening and she got mad at me every time I tried to help. No lie...every single time I reached out to help her, she gave me a look that screams "touch me again and this is over." You be the judge and tell me whether this was her giving me attitude or not...I tend to think yes. The first of many times, I expect.

And for the record, after taking this picture, I left her to her own devices to figure out the standing against the couch. About 5 seconds later, she looked down, lost her balance and fell facedown onto the floor. I felt bad, but she continued the independent attitude by not even crying.

I can't wait until the teenage years.

Crawling in my skin

2010-03-20T12:09:00.000-05:00

So here we are. 8 1/2 months into this journey and we still have a mostly stationary baby. She scoots backwards a little and gets stuck under furniture and screams, but other than that, she pretty much stays wherever we set her down.

I'm a little torn on the whole crawling thing. On one hand, it will be super exciting to see her moving around the house and following us a around. On the other hand, it is awesome to be able to set her down on the floor, go into the kitchen to check on dinner and know she'll still be sitting in basically the same spot when I get back.

The funny part about the lack of crawling is that I'm pretty sure she is playing us. I think when we are not looking she might be zooming around the room and getting back to the spot we left her in when we walk back into the room. We get sneak peaks of her when we are in the room and she'll be up on all fours, but when we turn to watch her, she tricks you into thinking she might and then smiles and lays down. Per usual, the photographic evidence:

Step 1: Eye something across the floor we'd like to play with (usually a dog toy).

Step 2: Make a move towards said object.

Step 3: See you looking at her and cast a coy smile.

Step 4: Lay down, laugh and know you have won again.

Just in case, the baby gate is going up tomorrow (hopefully), but I'm pretty convinced she is playing us so we'll continue to pick her up and move her to where she wants to go. She's either really lazy or is onto something.

She looks like a deranged Easter Bunny

2010-03-01T20:41:00.000-06:00

One of the coolest parts about being a parent is that you can dress your kid up anyway you want and they don't know the difference...at least for the time being. They also can't tell you no. So far, my favorite has been the mini-version of one of Ralphie's gifts from "A Christmas Story."

I can just imagine in about 10 years I'll send her upstairs to put on a bigger version of this outfit because some crazy relative sent it in the mail. And she better not question me about it, or she'll be wearing it all day.

The Many Faces of the Baby

2010-02-08T20:56:00.000-06:00

Getting a good picture of Lindsay has proven to take a minor miracle. The kid literally smiles non-stop, but you pull out the camera and she freezes up. Based on the early results, I don't see the second coming of Heidi Klum in this one. Adorable as she is, I fear modeling and acting may be something we already have to cross off the list.

Here's a sampling of a photo shoot we went through the other night. Her and I were sitting in the chair and she was being hilarious as usual...until the camera light went on. You will see I did eventually get the shot I was hoping for, but it was about a dozen pictures in. All I can say is god bless the invention of the digital camera. Otherwise I would need to take out a second mortgage to develop film.

I promise I didn't even feed her any booze before these...she just has a natural inebriated look to her a lot of the time.

Grabby

2010-02-02T20:39:00.000-06:00

I don't advise "googling" the above word, but that is the only word I can use to describe the stage Lindsay is in right now. She grabs absolutely everything in reach...sometimes creating a lot of pain for the person within arms reach. Her little razorblade fingernails dig into your skin and feel like papercuts. It's the least cute thing she does. Don't get me wrong, she starts out cute....

...but check out that look in her eye. Ten seconds later she pulled his beard and scratched his face. She's sneaky abusive.And don't even get me started on eating. After being the best eater ever, now the spoon is just another toy to grab at. We used to be able to get through dinner without even putting a bib on her. But take a look at dinner from one night last week.

Take a close note of the food that is above and off to the side of her eye...we are talking some serious flinging here. And if you think that looks messy, you should see the floor, table and walls. You'd think Pollack was painting in our kitchen.

The worst part of the grabbiness is the fact that it isn't limited to when she is sitting safe and sound...she is now insistent on grabbing everything around her on the changing table too. If you look close, you'll see our new "safety first" method of changing her. I guarantee she's taking a header off that table at some point though...her little booty dances fling her all over the place.

But at least she's proud of herself after she gets ahold of the item she's reaching for...

The one thing we did learn about her new skill is that she likely would be better at grabbing fumbles than the Vikings...look at the focus on the ball. AP, come over to our house and she'll give you a lesson on holding onto things.

Of course, the above evening ended up in severe disappointment. In hindsight, I should've done what Lindsay did with about 4 minutes left in the game. I could've avoided a lot of heartbreak. She's apparently already learned that nothing good can happen when the ball is in Brett Favre's hands with the game on the line. Guess she's smarter than the rest of us fools.

As you can imagine, the mood around our house has been somber this week. Even the dog's are feeling it.

Until next time, rest those weary eyes.

Parental failings...

2009-12-30T15:50:00.000-06:00

Worst mom of the year award goes to me. I didn't make sure Lindsay got a picture with Santa Clause and I didn't even get a picture of her with Daddy and I on Christmas! And don't even talk to me about whether I got a picture of her in her Christmas dress...that would be another no.

Really, Mary? You carry that damn camera around with you 24/7 and you can't even get the simplest of shots? I may as well pack it up....call it quits. Don't worry, Lindsay, I'll have 8 million pictures of you looking like Yoda with the dogs licking your face, but not a single shot of your high school graduation.

Case in point -- here's an example of 2 pictures we took on Christmas Eve:

Haha...so funny, right! She's boozing and playing cards...it's like we are in Vegas! Aunt Vawnita even said she's "getting a reputation." Looks like our master plan is working!

And then you get home and look through the camera and realize that you didn't get a single normal Christmas shot of your beautiful little girl that you can actually use to show the child protection workers that she isn't actually being fed booze and cigarettes.

But alas...she's never going to know because we are going to recreate the scene on New Year's Eve. Same dress and hopefully our friends still have some Christmas decorations up so we can throw her in front of them, take a picture and forever pretend it was the real thing!

I guess that will make us liars....yet another thing we've failed at. ;)

Eye of the tiger....

2009-11-30T21:29:00.000-06:00

...it's the thrill of the fight!

So today our resident punk got into her first daycare scrap. And based on the retelling of the story, not only did our baby girl not cry afterwards, she yelled at the bully and did a little fist-swinging of her own.

I have to say, I'm not surprised. Lindsay has showed the tendencies of being a little like Muhammad Ali since she was born...the kid's fists are ALWAYS clenched. I guarantee she'll never be caught offguard.

And she also has some pretty impressive escapability skills.

With all that hard work, she also often cashes out like she's just been in a championship fight.

In the interest of full disclosure, she didn't actually get popped by a kid at daycare...the poor guy just tripped on his blanket and fell into her. But apparently she actually didn't cry...just yelled in the little boy's ear until he got back up. That's my girl...one tough cookie.

I'll leave you with the best moment of my birthday...

Love is in the air...

2009-11-17T20:18:00.000-06:00

I'm clearly not cut out for this parenting stuff. Don't get me wrong, I love it. However, this kid just keeps growing up too fast! Everyday seems like something new and it becomes this constant reminder of how she'll basically be graduating tomorrow.

Since we last chatted, she's become a little more mobile. I guess I should say she's taken her first step towards mobility...you can't really be more mobile if you weren't in the first place, I suppose. Anyway, she has learned how to roll from her stomach to her back! Of course, she first pulled off this major feat while neither mom and dad were in the room...which means the rest of her evening turned into a game of "keep her on her stomach until we see her roll over" which went a little something like this:

Mary: "Come on honey! You can do it!"

Kevin: "Who's a big girl?"

Mary: "Just tuck that arm...ah...yeah...ah..."

Kevin: "Almost! Just roll!"

Eventually she pulled it off and we all cheered, which scared her and she started screaming. We really are pros.

The next day was her first Halloween party/birthday party. We were back in WC for cousin Kyle's 1st birthday party and Lindsay was excited to celebrate with a cow and a cowboy...dressed as an apparently very French pumpkin ("Ah, oui oui"):

She's also now discovering her hands and mouth...often choosing to use them together, which has created a never-ending stream of drool:

Next on the list of newfound skills is her first bowl of cereal! Our first night of rice cereal was quite the production...and in all honesty, a week into it, it isn't much better yet.

Watching her try to suck on the spoon like it is a bottle is pretty funny. What isn't as funny is watching her spit out pretty much all the cereal that has already been in her mouth. Maybe she isn't so grow up afterall?

Maybe the the most grown-up thing she's done so far is her first date. I know...I'm as surprised as you....I thought this day was a long, long time away too. But luckily she was fine with allowing me to supervise. Her and the young man decided to hang at home and catch the newest episode of Dora with some Teddy Grahams and milk...pretty smooth first date if you ask me. I wasn't all that impressed with them insisting on sharing a chair and the young man showing up in his pajamas, but I made sure they maintained a safe distance between each other. No hanky panky on my watch.

Not sure of the status of the relationship as they haven't had a second date yet, but I must say I'm kind of pulling for the kid since he helped me with some chores before heading home for the evening. Your move, Evan...your move.

A month? Really?

2009-10-19T21:41:00.000-05:00

Holy smokes! Can't believe it has already been a month since I last posted....shameful. I've been a very bad blogger. Trying to get into a routine has been a difficult task for me and is the excuse I'll use this time. To all my loyal readers (okay, reader...thanks Mom!), I will try to keep this updated much more often.

Anyway, onto the star of the show. It has now been 3 months since Lindsay joined us...I can't believe it has already been that long! Lindsay has been great since our last post. She sleeps through the night every night. In fact, I can't remember the last time she woke up in the middle of the night (jinx, I'm sure). Even better than that is that she is now smiling all the time! From the time I wake her up in the morning to when she goes to bed, it seems we can get smiles on command -- except when we are trying to get a picture of it. But we have been able to get a couple. Here's her doing her best Chris Farley impression(think "Fat Guy in a Little Coat"):

And here's her getting ready for Daddy's 30th birthday party:

She's really seemed to settle in nicely. In fact, she's already taken up some of my favorite activities. Relaxing in the chair...

...wishing Dad would stop making silly jokes...

...watching our puppies play...

...and enjoying a good party....

Don't worry...that is salami...not a PBR.

All in all, things are going pretty good. Just plugging along, enjoying life. I will say that I've been impressed with Lindsay's expressions and faces she makes. Kevin has taken to calling one of her faces her "Yoda" face. When she makes it, he'll talk in his best Yoda voice and say something like "go to bed, would you like?" That is usually good for one or two laughs a day. Even harder than catching her smiling is catching her in her Yoda look...until a couple days ago when I got the perfect picture of it...including her ears sticking way out (why did that have to be the ONE thing she inherited from me?). With the ears and the way her face thins out below her chunky cheeks, I have to admit, she does show some similarities to Yoda. Poor girl.

Hopefully that look doesn't stick around too long...or she'll have a tough go of it through middle school. We probably can worry about that later though.

Happy Fall, everyone....until next time, be well!

WHAT a weekend!

2009-09-17T20:19:00.000-05:00

This past weekend was a big one for Lindsay -- what I'm sure will be the first of many, she went to her first college party! Not technically, I suppose -- there wasn't a keg or any togas involved -- but it was a party and we were on campus. Uncle Ryan and I took Lindsay down to the opening of The Bank -- the Gopher's fancy new stadium. To help her fit in a little better, I decided to put her in her tye-dye shirt -- all the hippies loved her!

Along with everyone else, we were VERY impressed with the new home of the Gophers.

Quite the day! We got to campus around 4:00 and didn't get back home until 11:30 -- namely because Uncle Ryan and I got lost on the campus looking for our car.

Sunday was the season opener for our beloved Vikings, so we had Aunt Lindsay and Uncle Jeremy over...and Evan, of course. They were nice enough to let us borrow Evan's chair and Lindsay has fallen in love with it! This is her watching football that afternoon...she is so chill in it. Like she's been doing it all her life!

Then, of course, Sunday night were the VMA's on MTV! In case anyone was wondering, yes, I do still watch MTV. And I love, love, love the VMA's. So, Lindsay and I watched them together. Like everyone else that watched, she had quite the range of emotions. This is her during Michael Jackson's tribute (the dance portion, not dumb Madonna's speech):

She's a big fan of Michael. Afterall, I love him and the two of them are undeniably linked -- she was born on the day of his funeral. That was the first thing she watched on TV with me. Of course, the good vibes were quickly ruined by Kanye and his jackassy ways -- she just couldn't believe what was happening:

And just in case anybody was doubting exactly how weird Lady Gaga could be, she reminded us repeatedly throughout the broadcast. Lindsay certainly was not impressed with the wardrobe changes and disturbing freakshow she put on:

And lastly, maybe she was just tired from a long weekend, but I like to think this shows how unimpressed she is with Russell Brand's humor:

The First of Many

2009-09-05T18:20:00.000-05:00

Anyone that knows us knows that we are HUGE Vikings fans. I guess I wouldn't even say we are fans...we are obsessive...like the sports version of "Hand that Rocks the Cradle"...without the stealing of the family thing. Stalker-ish, some would say. So it would only makes sense that we would be trying to force the team upon our first-born child. FYI...the same goes for the Twins and for me, the Lakers, so this could be a recurring theme.

Part of the obsession is going to games. During the regular season, we get up early and tailgate the entire morning until the game starts. In fact, I get up earlier on Sundays to tailgate than I do on workdays. Tailgating is one of the few things in this world that can get me up before 8am.

Anyway, the point of the rambling, is that we decided to drag our 8-week old to the Vikings preseason game this week. We need her to understand early on the importance of the 4th preseason game for an NFL team. That is where you build the depth of your team. So we needed her to see the Darius Reynaud's and Letroy Guion's of the world try to make their mark and stick with the team. Never too early to teach a lesson about hardwork and perseverence.

Now taking an 8-week old to a building with 50,000 screaming people is a little scary, so we prepared in advance...we bought some airport-runway-style headphones to cut out the noise. Let me tell you...I've seen people put kids in some pretty funny-looking gear, but these take the cake. Huge, protruding, hot-pink headphones. And it turns out she likes them:

No screaming or anything! What a trooper!

We spent the entire 2nd quarter and halftime just laughing, smiling and chattering away between the 3 of us. Incidentally, that behavior is similar to how Kevin and I spent Vikings game pre-baby....minus the baby and the laughing and the smiling and the chattering with a little more drinking, swearing and yelling.

Turns out Lindsay wasn't quite as interested in the play of the potential 3rd string safeties and offensive lineman as us....this is her in the 3rd quarter:

Not quite the attention to team depth that we had hoped she'd have. Overall, however, I'd say she did quite well! And, she was quite the attraction...people seemed pretty interested in the pretty, young gal in the Baby Bjorn with the Vikes gear and hot-pink headphones.

I will say that she picked a good game to go to...a great initiation to the eternal disappointment that comes along with being a Vikes fan. An end of game loss featuring a fluke punt return for a TD by the Cowboys and a last second failure by the Vikes offense to score in the redzone. Don't worry -- we consoled her by explaining it was only a preseason game and it doesn't matter. But we did impress upon her the need to be prepared for a lifetime of similar defeats in games big and small when it comes to the Vikings.

But for the time being, we'll consider it a successful outing for the Best family. We had a great time and I'm sure this picture will be taken over and over again in our lifetime...only with a bigger Lindsay each time it is taken.

Moving on up!

2009-08-26T11:37:00.000-05:00

...to the east side...to a dee-lux apartment in the sky.

Well, not really the east side or a deluxe apartment or the sky. But it sure feels like a big move. Up to this point, our little girl has been sleeping in a bassinet in our bedroom. Small, low to the ground and most importantly, in our bedroom, close to mommy.

Well, the time has come to move her into her crib. Her big, high, lonely crib.

I am definitely not adjusting too well to not having her right next to me, but she made it a little easier on me by sleeping for over 7 hours on her first night in her very own room. I suppose it is a good thing she is sleeping in there. After all, I spent all that time painting it and we have all the furniture, but it is just the first sign of many that she is growing up...and already too fast for me!

Fortunately, Daddy made it easier on both of us (well, mainly me) by dropping her off in bed with me when he left for work this morning. So we got a little time to snuggle and chat before getting up...LaFawnduh and Kip really liked our time in bed all together. Yeah...that's it. It was for LaFawnduh and Kip's benefit that I stayed in there so long!

I've completely cashed out both nights she has been in her crib, so I guess that is good. However, all I can picture is her getting too big for her crib and so on and so on. I suppose this is the first of many points where I need to slow down and take a deep breath and realize progress is a good thing. However, my little baby isn't such a little baby anymore. :(

A week of firsts...

2009-08-16T11:42:00.000-05:00

Lindsay has had quite a few new experiences in the past 7-10 days. So here's our diary of those.

She had her first car ride of over an hour....up to Braham, MN for Pie Day (Mommy's first Pie Day as well!....that's Lindsay in the background in the stroller....she slept the entire rainy day away).

Her first time of actually staying awake at a kickball game...we lost in the semifinals of the tourney...she also met her first puppy at the game. This is the puppy...not Lindsay. ;)

Her first trip to Vikings training camp in Mankato. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on whether sleep or seeing practice is more important to you), she decided to sleep in that morning, so we got there right at the end of practice and didn't see too much. Antoine Winfield and Adrian Peterson have the early lead as her favorite player though...

Her first pair of jeans...now Lindsay and Mommy can dress alike!

Her first wedding....and first dress (and Mommy's first dress since her own wedding)...it's that dress alike thing kicking in apparently. She also had her first trip to the mall to help Mommy buy a new dress.

Lastly, she also had her first trip to Daddy's clinic to visit him at work (and show herself off to Daddy's co-workers). What happened after that visit was a first for the whole Best family. As we left the clinic together to head over to a barbeque with some friends, Lindsay and I loaded up in our Explorer and Kevin went to get into his car. Unfortunately, this is what he found in his parking spot.

We looked and looked and nothing. No Honda Civic to be found. It wasn't towed...we asked. So, there's really only one option left at this point. Kevin's car was stolen. A phone call to the police and there we were, back out in the parking lot waiting. As we discussed how ballsy it was to steal a car in broad daylight from outside a clinic where people are constantly coming and going, it occured to us that one other thing makes the crime particularly ballsy. Here is what is across the street from Kevin's clinic!

For those that don't know what BCA stands for....that would be the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension! I guess you have to admire the gutsy move of wanting a 1997 Honda Civic so badly that you'd pull it off right there!

As we waited for the police, the situation started to sink in...at least for Kevin and I. I don't think Lindsay was really grasping the idea quite yet.
After 45 minutes of waiting for the police, they finally showed and proceeded to tell us in the nicest possible way that Honda's are stolen a lot and they usually are gutted out very quickly...essentially, don't keep your hopes up about us ever finding it. The only hope he held out for us was that someone needed a ride and took it for a joyride.

So we went about our business and started thinking about a new car. But then, the very next day we had a message that said, "we found your car in Hugo and it was towed to Forest Lake." Hallelujah!!!!

We called the towing place to say we were coming to get it and the guy said, "Already?" This was a tad confusing, but we of course would need our car, so we said obviously we were coming right away. When we called back to see what we needed for proof of insurance, he happened to mention "I was able to get it shut off." Come again? "Well, they jammed a key into the ignition and broke it off....it was still running when they found it in the church parking lot."

Hmmm....at this point, it doesn't seem like we are getting it back as we had hoped. And sure enough, as we pulled into the lot I said "Holy shit...there's your car." Kevin responded with, "Where?" And all I could do was point and say, "Right there...that's your car."

It wasn't exactly as we had left it.

Front tires gone and replaced with crap tires. Front quarter panels gone. Tail lights gone, truck and spoiler gone.

And just for fun, they decided to let us know who stole it...OMB....a Hmong gang in St. Paul. Thank you very much guys.

They were nice enough, however, to leave our belongings inside. Kevin's reading glasses, his sunglasses, the base to our carseat, his work bag and backpack and some clothes. They even decided to give us a screwdriver!

So, undriveable and in obvious need of some serious repairs, we decided to see if we could just leave it at the towing place and call it a day. Unfortunately, no, they didn't want it...and to top it off, we owed them $250.00 for the towing fee! Son of a....

After talking with the guy at the tow place, he said sometimes they tow cars to the fire department and donate them to the fire department to practice putting out fires on. The cost was $75.00 for the tow, but he said he'd waive the fee because he felt bad for us. I have to believe that having a newborn with us saved us from having to pay the additional $75.00...so now she is actually saving us money this week (or at least we might be breaking even after the cost of diapers and formula)!

After a few quiet words from Kevin to the Civic, he said farewell to his fallen friend. Upon getting into the car and driving off, a sentence I never thought would be uttered by Kevin...."Our car got stolen by a gang." Too funny.

After that ordeal, Lindsay got to experience car shopping and car buying! The fun never stops!

We decided that instead of "Cash for Clunkers" that maybe the President and Congress should figure out who only has liability insurance on their vehicles and get gangs or individuals to steal those cars. Not only would people be forced into buying new cars, thereby stimulating the auto industry and the economy in general, if they stole all the parts, theoretically car parts stores would see an increase in business as well! Someone get me a meeting with those in charge!

As for the week of firsts, it was quite a roller coaster...mostly good though. I sure hope that not only was it Lindsay's first stolen car experience, but her last. Even more importantly, I hope it is her first and last experience with gang life....we'll certainly be hoping going through this didn't turn her on to a life of crime and excitement!

Deuces are Wild?

2009-08-06T00:09:00.001-05:00

A good card game? I wish. Unfortunately that phrase took on a new meaning for me last night.

I was feeding Lindsay last night about 1am and I could feel the rumblings coming from her diaper. I was very pleased with the development because that meant I could change her before she fell asleep.

So she finishes the bottle and we head over to the changing table. Blah, blah...unbutton the pj's, unbutton the onesie, open the diaper and BAM! Good poop little girl...but it is a mess! So we start cleaning up...wipes aplenty, cleaning up that brown, runny mess when I hear a little toot, followed by a quick flow of additional said brown, runny mess flowing out of her butt.

Here I am, holding her two little chicken legs in one hand to keep her butt in the air and a wipe in the other. So what do I do? Naturally, I try to put the wipe under her before the poop hits her clothes and the changing table. And that's when the deuces went wild...

Of course, the wipe didn't cover my whole hand and of course there was way too much poop to hold in the wipe...so now I have brown, runny poop all over the hand that isn't holding her legs and there is a lake of poop sitting on top of her pj's.

In the meantime, my husband (who has been sleeping for about 2 hours to the point, preparing the middle of the night feeding) peeks his head in and says "that's disgusting" and proceeds to head into the bathroom.

At this point, I'm struggling and trying to regroup. So I grab another wipe and BAM! Deuces wild AGAIN! This time, the wipe falls out of my hand and I'm left holding a handful of that damn brown, runny poop.

Not sure exactly what to do at this point, I wait for my wonderful husband knowing he'll come help me. Instead, I see him walk past the nursery and back into bed, leaving me (still) holding her two legs up with one hand and (still) holding a handful of brown, runny poop in the other. There's no way I can use my clean hand, because that would require me to lay her down in the lake of poop. After only briefly considering lifting her up by the legs and letting her dangle in the air (just kidding...don't call child protection), I dump my handful of poop into the lake of poop in her pj's and try to clean my hand...all while yelling at my husband to get his ass into the nursery.

I immediately directed him to get a scissors and by the time he gets back I have my hand clean so I can perform onesie surgery by cutting it open from the neckline down. After it is completely cut in half down the front, I can extract her from the onesie and get her moved onto a burpcloth on the floor, where she proceeds to, you guessed it, produce another wild deuce. Beautiful.

Thankfully that wild deuce was a small one and it was the last one. But that was followed by a diaper-free pee all over me and very large puke all over her...presumably from being strung up for about 3 minutes immediately after eating. By this point, Lindsay is screaming her little lungs out. Can you blame her? She just watched her mother play poop-catcher while causing her to throw up.

Eventually, I was able to get her cleaned up and changed into clean clothes. For those that can stomach it, following are the pictures of the aftermath...followed by my little sweetheart after the traumatic event...clearly she was affected.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

2009-07-25T11:56:00.001-05:00

No, this isn't a review of a Clint Eastwood film. I'll save that for another day. Instead, since we've been home about 2 1/2 weeks now, I thought I'd give a little rundown of some of the highs and lows we've come across as new parents.

THE GOOD:

1. Nothing in my life prior to this point compares with the feeling of Lindsay's tiny little fingers holding onto the neck of my shirt as I hold onto her.

2. Seeing her little smiles warms my heart.

3. Her expressions/movements are hilarious -- she's like a little adult already.

4. We've been able to catch up on some of our Netflix movies since we are at home more.

5. No one questions me when I wear my pajamas all day...or wonders why it takes me until 2pm to get around to brushing my teeth.

THE BAD:

1. Spending 2-3 hours in the middle of the night watching Lindsay look around is more exhausting than I ever could've imagined.

2. Worrying about everything that can happen to her is terrifying.

3. The extra laundry isn't necessarily a welcome task.

4. We've been able to catch up on some of our Netflix movies since we are at home more.

5. She sounds like a sailor when she burps after eating.

THE UGLY:

1. Cleaning poop that has seeped out of her diaper is pretty disgusting...especially at 4am.

2. Having her vomit run down my chest and into my bra isn't necessarily desirable...especially at 4am.

3. Having her pee shoot all over the changing table and her clothing while I'm changing her is not what I have in mind when I start the process...you guessed it, especially at 4am.

4. I wonder if the neighbors think about calling the police while we are giving Linsday a bath. Screams of bloody murder roll through the house during bath time.

That is our life in a nutshell right now. Live it and love it....and try not to vomit when I'm puked on or pooped on.

She's a keeper!

2009-07-21T12:08:00.000-05:00

Two weeks in and I think we are going to keep Lindsay. She's too cute to send back. Here's the photographic evidence in case you don't believe me.

That pic was not taken by us. Sadly, we don't have the photographic skills for such an awesome pose. We were referred to a photographer who took some newborn pics for us last week. This is the only one we've seen so far, but we'll post some more when we get them.

Aside from being too cute to give back, I think her actions at the photographer's studio make her a perfect fit for us. For one, the photographer said she smirked a lot. That happens to be one of the facial expressions used most often in our household. And if we needed more reason than that, she also expressed some stubborness, attitude and practical joking skills that afternoon.

We were trying to get some naked baby pics, so her diaper had to come off. She decided that the perfect time to poop would be as we were taking her diaper off. We covered her back up and sat for a couple minutes and waited for her to finish. On cue, everytime we took her diaper off she pooped a little bit more. Finally after about 10 minutes, we were in the clear...no more poop.

This particular pose had Kevin holding her. Turns out she wasn't done yet...and decided to wait until everything was perfectly set to not only poop all over Kevin, but also to add a little pee on him for good measure. Lindsay 1, Parents 0.

Speaking of poop, I finally had a WDBM. What's a WDBM, you ask? I'll protect the innocent, but the phrase was first used by someone we know after a particularly rustic camping trip. We stopped to wash up at a gas station and said person came out and said they couldn't wait to get home for a WDBM...turns out that is a "well-deserved bowel movement." I fell in love with the saying and have used it whenever I can since then. But never have I felt it more appropriate than post-labor. So for those wondering, one more hurdle crossed!

Men vs. women thought of the day

2009-07-18T17:15:00.001-05:00

As Kevin and I were watching the British Open this morning, we had to rewind the broadcast to make sure we heard correctly what the announcer said.

There was one golfer who was making a charge to the leaderboard and one of the announcers mentioned that his wife was due with their first child on Tuesday (not sure if it was this past Tuesdsay or next Tuesday). The announcer said that he had a pager and would leave the tournament and fly out if she went into labor.

The main announcer proceded to say the following..."He's within one shot of the lead. Women are sensible. She'll have that baby and not tell him about it until after his final round tomorrow. This chance may never come along again for him. A few stitches and she'll be fine."

All I have to say about that is 'wow.' I'm sure his wife wouldn't mind missing the delivery portion for a round of golf.

What happens next?

2009-07-17T17:23:00.000-05:00

Those that have ever read a pregnancy book are probably well aware of this already, but those books tell you absolutely nothing about what happens to you AFTER you deliver the baby. There may be some vague references about making sure to take time to heal or sleep when your baby sleeps, but that is as far as it goes.

Well, let me tell you, it is no walk in the park. Baby aside, there are a lot of things going on to slow down the new mommy.

First things first, the first couple of days are pretty much awful. Having the baby is awesome, but pretty much any type of movement was out of the question. Even getting to the bathroom in the hospital was a challenge...and time consuming. It took me longer to change my own diaper than it did to change Lindsay's....I had special wipes and all. There is nothing cool about adult diapers...not even in the Miles Davis sort of way.

Walking around is something else that I don't recommend....even if the nurse's push it on you. One of my nurse's asked me "what my goals were for today" when I was there. I wanted to say to lay here and let my nether regions heal, but she insisted that I at least get out into the hallway for a walk. She wouldn't let it go either...kept asking me about it whenever she'd come in. "Hey...did you get a chance to take a walk yet?" Nope, lady....give me another Percocet and leave me alone. I eventually did get out for that walk around the hallway, but it wasn't any fun at all. And said nether regions paid the price later...turns out the diapers, swelling and bleeding don't really mix that well with walking. At least not for me.

Getting home wasn't the remedy either. Turns out sleeping in your own bed doesn't fix everything. It certainly doesn't fix stitches. I have no idea if everyone gets stitches, but I had to and that has not been fun at all. Even still today they are keeping me from taking that long-awaited walk. I was talking to a friend on the phone the other day and she told me about someone she knows that has to do physical therapy for her tearing....yikes! So my complaining would probably seem pretty ridiculous to her. I guess I should take solace in the fact that at least I don't have to go through that.

As a bottle/formula feeder, I didn't have to go through the process of getting Lindsay to take to my boob, but holy smokes, that doesn't get rid of the boob issues altogether. I didn't have any issues for a couple days, but by day 3 or 4, my boobs were about 3 times their normal size and hard as rocks....and "HOLY CRAP" painful. Apparently it is called engorgement. No one really told me a good way to deal with it, so picture me with a bag of peas over each boob for about 10 hours a day. Nothing cool about that. I'm sure my husband and my houseguests were impressed with my classiness. A couple days of that and then the leaking starts. And let me tell you, that is pretty sweet. Nothing in my life to this point has compared to the moment I was standing in the bathroom, getting ready to take a shower and there was a steady stream of milk running down my belly. I can't even begin to explain the mortification that comes along with that.

Alright, enough of the complaining for today. But before I go, let me leave you with what has so far been my favorite thought from the book about the baby's first year that I'm referencing. Here is the exact sentence....no lie. "Your first look at your body in a full-length mirror can be a shocking expereience, and we recommend putting it off as long as possible." Really? That's the advice? Talk about supportive. Nothing like having a book telling you that you aren't attractive. I, for one, never felt more loved.

Our little girl

2009-07-13T13:39:00.000-05:00

Here's a few pics....everyone is saying she looks a lot like Richard (my brother), so we are keeping our fingers crossed for a change in facial features soon....just kidding Richard. ;)

Our hospital stay

2009-07-12T10:04:00.000-05:00

Lindsay is with the two grandmas right now, so I thought this was a perfect time to finish up our hospital post. When I last left a post, it finished with me wanting to slap the front desk attendant. Not exactly the start I was hoping for and I'm sure this was making Kevin pretty nervous. Well, turns out I wasn't quite as big a crabbypants as I figured I'd be.

Our admitting started out with me discovering that any hope for a somewhat "discreet" stay (ie, keeping my lady parts at least partially under wraps) was not going to happen. Gown on, legs open and discretion gone. I was dilated 5cm already when I was admitted, so we were fairly far along already. My contractions were pretty unbearable by this point and the epidural wouldn't be able to be done for an hour (some major surgery was happening and that patient rudely was hogging the anesthesiologist), so they first gave me a shot of something to "knock the edge off." That worked okay, at least making the next hour something I could handle. Contrary to an apparent tough exterior I show, I am a big wussy and I really, really needed my drugs.

My savior showed up about 7am bearing the epidural. He went over the risks with me and I told him I didn't care if my legs fell off....just give me the drugs. Once the epidural kicked in, I was homefree for a couple hours. And I apparently thought I was participating in open-mic night. I came up with such classic one-liners as: "I've never eaten crackers in bed before" (upon scarfing down a few saltines while laying in the bed) and "I like dogs" (upon hearing that there was a board showing all the dogs of the labor and delivery nurses). Kevin said I was all over the place with my thoughts...I guess I shouldn't plan on getting addicted to painkillers. I really don't have much recollection other than saying everything that passed through my head and then 30 seconds later wondering why on earth I'd say something so stupid.

We met our doctor a little later. She was like a damp towel...ruined all our fun. The labor nurses and I were having our improv routine and she didn't really get it. At one point, the nurse said something about at least we didn't have to have our regular doc deliver because he was awful...and we were laughing about that and the new doc said, "Are you making a joke?"....not understanding sarcasm apparently. Not exactly my kind of personality.

By 9am I was dilated 10cm and they shut the epidural off....it was go time. I started pushing at 9:30am and although I thought Kevin would be an innocent bystander somewhere north of the Mendoza line, the nurse told him to grab a leg and they'd give us a chance to "practice" pushing. A nurse on one leg, Kevin on the other and away we went.

Make no mistake. Pushing is exhausting. Because of the epidural, the pain was more pressure-like than excruciatingly painful, but the act of pushing took me to the limit of exhaustion. At each contraction, I would push for three 10-second intervals....or so I was told. My nurse made sure that she counted backwards extra slow for those 10 seconds, sometimes even deciding not to count. How wonderful. Each span of pushing felt like it took an hour....when in reality it was only about 60 to 90 seconds.

Well, sparing everyone the more gruesome details, our little bundle of joy arrived at 10:31am on 7/7/09 (the nurse said she hoped I would hold out until 7/8/09...thank God I didn't). And I made it through the experience without yelling at Kevin even a single time, which is practically a miracle since I can usually find something to yell at him about at any moment (I'm not exactly the easiest person to live with). He was awesome and did a great job...and I think I did alright as well. And really, other than one nurse who apparently thought I was trying to bogart the pain meds, our stay was relatively uneventful (until we were leaving and tried to "steal" our own baby by not remembering to get the security tag taken off and set the floor alarms off).

Thanks to all those who called, texted, emailed and stopped by. We really appreciate it. As for Lindsay, she has been a very good baby so far. We couldn't be happier....although it has only been a couple days of having to get up at night! Get back to us in a couple weeks. ;)

I'll leave you with a pic from our first day home....LaFawnduh has taken on quite the protective role.

From the beginning

2009-07-10T10:49:00.000-05:00

Well, not the beginning, but lots of people have been asking about how Tuesday progressed, so here goes.

Kevin and I went to bed about midnight on Monday night and I told him that it definitely wasn't happening that night. I wasn't feeling it at all. So I read, set my alarm for work the next morning and cursed the pregnancy gods for not letting me go into labor yet. I had an appointment that afternoon and had made arrangements to come back the following Monday to discuss inducement if I hadn't delivered yet....my nurse practictioner wasn't too convinced that I was really close. So I fell asleep wondering if it was ever going to happen.

I woke up about 3am, feeling a little cramping, but in the interest of full disclosure, I had no thoughts that I was in labor....I thought I was constipated. Something I'm sure you all want to think about. For about 90 minutes I was going between the bedroom and the bath about every 10-15 minutes, hoping to "relieve" myself and finally get some sleep. I kept cursing my life because I really wanted to be productive at work the next day and finish one last project up.

About 4:30, I had the thought that maybe I wasn't constipated, but was having some contractions....that was honestly the first time I thought about it. I decided to wake Kevin up and have him do some timing just in case. He timed the first 3 contractions and they were all between 4 and 6 minutes, so he called the hospital.

You'd think calling the hospital would be the easy part, but no....what a cluster. He called the number they gave us and they first sent us to the wrong hospital (our clinic group is associated with a couple hospitals). From the bathroom (I was brushing my teeth and getting my bathroom stuff packed), I heard him say our doctor's name, then spell it, then give them the clinic name, then the doctor's name again. Obviously things weren't going well for him and I was starting to have very strong contractions at this point and wasn't amused by the delay. Finally they sent him back to the operator and got us to the right hospital. Our doctor happened to be on call, so they hung up and got our doc to call us back....I'm sure he was pleased with having someone wake him up for that. I have my suspicions that the labor and delivery department is supposed to tell us when to come in.

Well, the doc told us to load up and head in, so within 10 minutes we had the dogs in the kennel, the suitcase in the car and were on our way. By this point it has only been about 45 minutes since Kevin woke up and I was really starting to regret waiting so long to get him up....the contractions were becoming unbearable. I wondered if the people driving around us would be able to piece together what was happening in our car if they looked over....Kevin with a scared shitless look on his face and me grimacing in severe pain. I don't know if I would've figured it out if I was them, but at least I was able to focus on something to try and not think about the pain....wondering if they were really up this early for work or if all those over-achievers were heading to workout.

Took us about 20 minutes to get to the hospital...of course, the stoplight gods made sure we stopped at every single light on the way. Kevin dropped me off at the door and while I'll save the hospital stuff for a later post, let me tell you my first experience in the hospital. I walked up to the information desk and told her what was happening and that labor/delivery was expecting us. All of a sudden I had one of those "stop you in your tracks, take your breath away" contractions. As I'm leaning over the desk trying to breath it out, the lady at the desk said (in a cheerful, chuckling voice), "Oh, ha ha ha, your body is working so hard right now!" If I would've had any ability to stand myself up straight or any energy to respond, it would've been with a right-hand slap to her face. No shit, lady. If you know what's good for you, you'll get me a wheelchair and stop talking.

Anyway, this is long and I should probably go check on my child (and maybe even my napping husband). The hospital portion of the story is hopefully more interesting and will be added later. Hope everyone is well!

A little sample

2009-07-08T09:23:00.000-05:00

I'll post more later, but I thought I'd throw a few pics from Day 1 up for people to see our newest addition.

Lindsay Mercedes Best joined us yesterday at 10:31am...6lbs, 12 oz, 19 inches. She's been a joy so far!

Waiting on the world to change...

2009-07-06T09:57:00.000-05:00

So we keep on waiting...
Waiting on the world to change

I used to have a fairly unhealthy obsession with John Mayer. Stalking him through the streets of Minneapolis type of unhealthy (thanks Traci, Tricia and Lindsay). This weekend I couldn't help but have this particular song of his rolling through my head on a continuous basis.

It's all a big waiting game at this point. And not that I'm not excited about my world forever changing dramatically over the next week or so (I'd consider that more of the anxious side), but even moreso, right now I'm excited about the prospect of not walking around with huge mass inside my belly.

I almost wish I had cameras following me around right now. The view of looking at me not being able to reach into the washer to reach clothes out to put in the dryer is probably a lot more funny than the reality of it. Not to mention the view of me trying to get off the couch, put on shoes or roll out of bed. If it wasn't me going through it, I'd sit back with a bag of popcorn and enjoy the show!

Hope everyone had a great weekend! Despite being somewhat limited in our available activities, Kevin and I had a fun and productive weekend....which is a difficult combination to master. Think yardwork and a boatload of movie-watching.

Until next time...

Still nothing

2009-07-02T12:37:00.001-05:00

For those hoping the next update included some cuddly baby pics, you are going to be disappointed. No news yet and at least seemingly, it doesn't seem to be progressing at all. Not that I'd know what it feels like to have labor progressing, but still. I still feel the same as I did a few days ago, last week, etc. -- uncomfortable and really, really hoping that I wasn't pregnant anymore.

In the meantime, here are a few highlights from the last few days:

1) Last night I didn't have a single drop of liquid after 7pm, went to bed at midnight and still had to get up NINE, yes NINE, times to pee before 8am.

2) Some people I know put together a "When is Mary going to pop?" pool and someone picked July 22nd. I'm due July 8th. Kevin and I just watched Slingblade again and I'm having thoughts of heading over to said person's house with a lawnmower blade for even suggesting that date.

3) I found out that Kevin has been using me as an excuse to get out of things, mainly related to work. Keep in mind that even I haven't used this as an excuse to get out of work yet. At a banquet the other night, a co-worker busted Kevin for it -- apparently Kevin had told said co-worker the week prior that he couldn't come in "because Mary is having some contractions and we have to head to the hospital." Well, when the co-worker brought up my contractions to me at the banquet, I had no idea what he was talking about and said "I haven't had any contractions yet." Liar, liar, pants on fire...that's what you get for making me look like the panicky, over-anxious, first-time mom. I definitely snickered at Kevin's self-induced embarassment...is that mean?

So far, those are the highlights (well, lowlights, really) of my week. Hope everyone else has had a more enjoyable pre-4th week. Our weekend plans consist of hopefully having a baby, but if not, the backup plans aren't too shabby. Probably go to "The Hangover" on Friday and then golf on Saturday and/or Sunday. And definitely get some weeding done in my garden...my poor, poor garden has been woefully neglected in the past week.

Safe travels and Happy 4th of July everyone!

No news is good news?

2009-06-29T20:41:00.001-05:00

I'm starting to rethink that phrase after my weekly appointment today. Nothing new or major to report, so any hopes of going a little early are starting to fade. Not that I was counting on it or anything, but one can always hope.

I've apparently become a burden to the sleeping patterns of the others in my house....namely our dog, LaFawnduh. She has always slept next to me in bed or on the floor next to my side of the bed. Over the course of the last 10 days or so, she's started moving to Kevin's side early in the night. She will usually start on my side, but after about the third time of me getting up to go pee in the middle of the night, she flips me the "are we really going to do this again?" look. So, I've officially lost my cuddle buddy. Hopefully she comes back around to me at some point. Kip, of course, isn't phased in the least....very similar to Kevin.

Speaking of Kevin, now that I'm awake more throughout the night, I've become more aware of his snoring. It isn't too loud, but it certainly doesn't help me to fall back asleep with the soft melody of a snore going on in the background. So I've started waking him up to get him to roll over. Here's how the conversation usually goes:

Me (while shaking him vigorously): "Kevin....roll over. Kevin. Kevin...you're snoring. Kevin. KEVIN. YOU'RE SNORING! ROLL OVER!"

Kevin: "Huh? What? Huh?"

Me: "You're snoring. Roll over."

Kevin: "I am not. I'm not even sleeping!"

While that conversation might make sense the first time I wake him up or even ocassionally when he is very tired, I am not lying when I say it happens nearly every night. Yep. This is my life. Welcome to it. I'm a lucky, lucky gal. As I've said before, hands off ladies.

Lastly, because I've promised some pics of the nursery to a few people, here it is. I think it is all ready to go. A little decorating left to do, but I want to wait until the baby comes to add anything else. God forbid this kid hates everything I put up in the room. We'll let him or her have some say in the decorations I guess. Well, I guess not a say really....unless, of course, I go very late and the kid is already talking when I finally pop him or her out.

I take it back...

2009-06-22T11:31:00.000-05:00

...I do have one thing to complain about. Getting your cervix checked IS NOT A PLEASANT EXPERIENCE.

That is all.

Ah, summer...

2009-06-21T10:17:00.000-05:00

Here it is....what I've missed most this summer. Beautiful weather, good friends, an outdoor patio and my favorite summer beverage, Leinie's Honeyweiss.

Now before anyone goes and calls my doctor or the police, this wasn't actually mine....just a good photo op. But boy did it bring back some great memories! Can't wait for a few weeks down the road when I can maybe enjoy a nice summer evening like this again.

And before anyone starts chuckling about that last statement....I get it. Likely I'm living in a dream world thinking I'll get an evening like that within the next month and a new baby. But a girl can dream, right? Let me have my fantasies!

I know I've spent most of this blog doing a lot of complaining, but other than general discomfort, I don't have a lot to complain about right now. So I've been trying to come up with some funny material, but I'm drawing a blank. So instead you get my favorite picture of the summer of me. Really, one of the few prego pics of me. So for all those that have been asking to see one, enjoy it....this is what you get!

Yes...I'd say I've "popped"

2009-06-08T11:42:00.000-05:00

Let me give you a short list of things that are more difficult at 36 weeks pregnant:

1) Getting out of bed -- both because of extreme exhaustion and because I literally can't physically get out of bed.

2) Sitting for hours at a time -- ie, what I do for a living.

3) Standing up after sitting down.

4) Standing for more than 15-20 minutes.

5) Laying down for more than a couple hours.

So I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that sitting, standing and laying down are all pretty much out of the question....at least if I need to do any of those things for more than 5-10 minutes. I'm very quickly learning that there is very little one can do to avoid those 3 activities. I've got $5 for the first person to come up with a position or activity that will give me 1 hour of comfort. I was going to say I'd bake them a cake, but Lord knows a cake stands no chance with me in the same room right now. Hell, I damn near ate the fingers off the lady who served me my Icee at Target yesterday because she was taking too long....a cake definitely wouldn't stand a chance.

Anyway, I have a sneaking suspicion that none of these things are going to get easier over the next 4 weeks and 2 days. I'm actually to the point of having to roll myself off my bed because I can't sit up...now THAT is something to write home about. I sometimes feel like I'll need Kevin around the next 4 weeks just to roll me to my car everyday to get me off to work. At the rate this belly is growing, I'm not even sure I'll fit behind the steering wheel in a couple weeks, let alone into work clothes. I contemplating a complete toga wardrobe soon....so if anyone has some stylish sheets they are willing to pass along....

Ah, the joys...

Disgusting....

2009-05-24T16:20:00.000-05:00

Well, I've been holding onto this post for awhile. It takes weeks to be able to vocalize (is this still considered vocalizing?) some of the disgusting things I've read about in my pregnancy books over the past month.

Now that I'm getting to the stage where I probably could legitimately give birth without too many issues, I had to move farther along in the pregnancy books. The books are typically broken down by week or month and they then have a separate chapter or section about labor and delivery. Well, let me tell you....the chapters dedicated to labor and delivery are not for the faint of stomach.

One thinks that labor is like you see in the movies. You are sitting at home or maybe even out with friends when "Oh my God! My water just broke!" A short taxi ride later and you are laying in a birthing suite doing your breathing exercises. Guess what? That isn't even close, apparently.

First, for days or maybe even a week or so before you go deliver, you have certain things to watch for. And man, do they ever have some fantastic names for these things. A couple of fun examples for you...

Apparently pregnant ladies have what is called a "mucous plug." AND IT FALLS OUT. I guess it does exactly as you would think from the name. It traps the fluids in the body until everything is getting ready to come bursting out. But come on....couldn't someone come up with a better name for it? How excited can a person really get when it does come out when you actually have to say that outloud. "Hey Kevin....I think I'm getting close. My mucous plug just fell out! Yippee!" I dare someone to say mucous plug without getting a disgusted look on your face. And if you succeed, I don't want to hang out with you anymore.

Also you have to pay attention for "bloody show" when you go to the bathroom. Again....really? That's the the best we can come up with for a name? How absolutely disgusting. And let me tell you....that's just what I want to do...track the fluids actually leaking out after the mucous plug falls out. Sounds fantastic. Slap a diaper on me and call it a day.

I couldn't possibly be more excited to pop this kid out, but my word, those two things alone make me rethink picking up a book to read about what I'm going through....let alone actually going through them. I'm not big on bodily fluids or medical jargon to begin with.....and with these names/descriptions, no one is doing a very good job of making pregnant gals feel comfortable about the process.

Colds are no fun.

2009-05-24T16:12:00.000-05:00

I don't normally like the common cold very much...not sure I know anyone that does. But it is way worse when you are knocked up. Every cough and sneeze throws everything out of whack. I have to admit some of it is in my head though. I have had two friends crack ribs from coughing while they were pregnant. That was in the back of my head every time I felt a cough or sneeze coming on in the past week.

How normal is that? I'd venture to say not very. There is nothing normal about worrying about cracking a rib when you cough.

Just another joy of pregnancy.

Multiple gunshot wounds....

2009-05-16T09:15:00.000-05:00

I'm thinking of just getting my legs amputated. That has to be less painful than the every-other-night Charley Horses. That probably wouldn't be too convenient post-baby, but it might help me for the time being.

Not sure I have the time for the physical therapy that would be involved, so I might just suffer through the sleepless nights.

The other issue I'm having is heartburn/acid reflux. Now, I rarely, if ever, had this issue prior to pregnancy. At this point, it is a daily occurrence....a boy is it a pain in the butt. However, I probably don't have the best attitude about controlling it either. I figure if I am going to get it anyway, I might as well still eat whatever I want. I suppose if I backed off the spicy foods and candy/sweets, I might be better off.

The way I look at it, if eating is the one thing I have left right now, I probably should just live with the heartburn. Unless I find out it is in someway related to the Charley Horses. If that is the case, put me on a salad, fruit and water diet.

Shot in the leg.

2009-05-08T14:33:00.000-05:00

Well, maybe not, but that is what it felt like. I woke up in the middle of the night with what felt like a bullet wound to my leg calf. Turns out it is "just" a Charley Horse. (Incidentally, my ancestors, the Germans, apparently call it something that translates into "muscle hangover." I can assure you there were no muscles being used and certainly nothing that I could associate with a hangover in my system....I'd rather have a regular, old hangover anyday of the week over this.)

Apparently Charley Horses are common during pregnancy. I'm not sure if mine is the result of wearing heels yesterday (I had to spruce myself up a bit for Legally Blonde: The Musical) or because I was dehydrated. What I do know is that I woke up screeching bloody murder, without a clue as to what was going on. Kevin graciously offered in between snores to roll over and try to help get rid of it, but I preferred to lay very, very still until the sharp pains subsided.

Today I've been walking around with a bit of a limp, although I'd like to think it looks like I've got a very cool strut going on. I'm thinking of throwing on some more casual clothes and finding a local gang to join. At least I can tell them that I know what it feels like to get shot in the leg.

Maybe

2009-05-01T09:06:00.000-05:00

....I am taking this ice cream thing too far. Last night as I was dishing up some ice cream for myself, Kevin asked, "Can I have some?"

Apparently I've become the almighty ruler of the ice cream container. To such a point that he is asking permission.

Rest assured for all those that may think I am now controlling every move of his, I let him dish up a bowl for himself and didn't hog it all. At least not this time.

Living large!

2009-04-30T09:20:00.000-05:00

Last night the Mr. and I headed out to the Twins game. Because of the rain, we decided to leave the dogs inside. Unfortunately, I forgot to move my Easter basket full of candy, so we came home to two very wired dogs who consumed basically the entire basket of candy and all the tinfoil wrappers the candy came in!

In hindsight, I wish we would've taken a picture of the carnage. Really the only way we knew was because there were some plastic eggs popped open in the middle of the carpet. At least they did their best to clean up after themselves.

I figure today will include a nice little cleaning of the kennel after all that chocolate and tinfoil passes through their digestive system....have fun Kevin!

I thought I was prepared

2009-04-28T11:20:00.000-05:00

....but after dinner last night with a brand-new mom, a mom with a one-year old and a multiple-child mom, I realize I most certainly am not prepared for the labor.

All that talk of hemorroids, cutting, stitching, post-labor baths, smells, ruined shoes, bad doctors, late epidurals and 24-hour labors kept me up all night. I'll spare the dirty details for those that are about to head out to lunch.

I can't change my mind at this point, but holy hell, what a reality check. Nurserys, shower invites and baby clothes are so much fun to pick out and look at, that I had forgotten about the upcoming nightmare that comes first! No worries, message received ladies. Thanks a bundle.

One of the participants of the get together, Jen, earlier in the evening had pushed for me to change the name of this blog to "The White Huxtables"....but after the aforementioned discussion, there is no way we follow up Baby Best #1 with a Denise, Theo, Vanessa and Rudy. So anyone hoping for 5 from this person can most definitely kiss that dream goodbye!

So thanks for the wonderful evening. You each owe me a couple hours of sleep. ;)

Introducing the pups

2009-04-22T21:10:00.000-05:00

....the current king and queen of the Best household.

Kip....
and LaFawnduh....

And them participating in one of their favorite activities....

Pregnant brain

2009-04-22T08:41:00.000-05:00

Pregnant brain. I had never heard the term before being pregnant. But I was clued into what it was and the very real effects fairly early on.

It all started one day when I was at work and 2 separate times one day I walked down the hall to the bathroom and as I locked the door behind me, I realized I had unbuttoned my shirt on the way there. One of those times, I had already started taking my shirt off. Apparently I thought things were going to get pretty messy in there? Good thing it is a private bathroom or that could've been incredibly embarrassing.

Naturally, I was concerned, so I emailed a couple friends and they diagnosed me. Because I wasn't even out of my first trimester at that point, I knew I was in for a long ride.

While my foray into office disrobing was certainly the most unusual example of pregnant brain, it goes much farther than that. Everything from forgetting to put stamps on mail and putting canned goods in the refridgerator to not feeding my dogs and wearing clothes inside out.

This phenomenon might be the most frustrating part about being pregnant. Is it really fair to add a handicap to one of the few parts of the human body that isn't physically affected during pregnancy? Simply stated....no. But apparently the dreaded pee pants syndrome isn't quite enough for the pregnancy gods.

So here it is. 30 years old and I'm now a note-leaver and list-maker. Jane Swenson always told me it would happen. I never believed her. It's gone so far now that I even carry around a pen/book to make lists with on the go. Give me a few months and I'll be putting my keys and phone in a bag instead of carrying them in my pocket and getting up before the sun comes up.

My, my.....how time flies. What came first....getting old or getting pregnant? I'm not sure about that, but it is definitely here.

How's this for government?

2009-04-16T11:22:00.000-05:00

Before work this morning I put the new tabs on the Pink Panther. That made me think about how I had already paid the tabs for the Explorer but didn't remember replacing them. I look and sure enough they are expired.

So on the drive into work I call Driver and Vehicle Services (good way to start a beautiful morning) and try to get to the bottom of it. They tell me that they sent them out to me on January 26th. Well, that's great, but I didn't get them....and certainly I have too much going on to track the comings and goings of my vehicle tabs.

Well, because it has been longer than 60 days, apparently they can't just send out new ones to me....I have to "order" duplicates. Of course, that begs the question of whether or not I have to pay for them again. In the most cheerful government voice you can imagine, the nice lady tells me that yes, I have to pay, but not the entire amount....HOORAY!

The total cost will be $9.50. Alright....doable. I can handle that. I handled it pretty well until she told me that the $9.50 broke down as following:

--$1.00 for the new tabs
--$8.50 service fee

Seriously? The tabs can be reproduced for $1.00 but it takes DVS $8.50 to put them in the mail to me? Where are they sending them from? Russia?

Now, it isn't lost on me that certainly some of the fault here lies with me. I should've paid attention and realized I didn't get the tabs in the mail and called earlier. But that doesn't excuse the payment breakdown. Couldn't they just tell people that it is $8.50 for the tabs and a $1.00 service fee? That would make much more sense to me.

Well, despite my misgivings, my $9.50 was sent out this morning. Hopefully I don't get pulled over in the meantime. I could probably handle the $50 ticket. It would be the $185 service fee that would get me a court date to explain my arrest for disorderly conduct and disobeying an officer.

The grossest thing (so far) about pregnancy

2009-04-11T11:12:00.000-05:00

At my bookclub meeting the other night, the conversation turned to kids and pregnancy. Our group is comprised of gals all in their mid (to late)-twenties and early thirties, so we've had a few go through pregnancy already. Along with a couple other friends, they have become my source for all the "real" information about pregnancy that nobody or no book tells you.

And let me tell you....these books are worthless. At least the ones I've started reading. As many of you know, I'm not exactly the warm, fuzzy type and I'm not into the "natural beauty" of the pregnancy process. It's a means to an end for me. Anyway, all these books talk about the symptoms you could be experiencing. While this would seem helpful to the untrained eye, upon further review, it is ridiculously unhelpful. The list will start:

*increased boredom and weariness with the pregnancy process.
*Hearty appetite.
*Constipation.
*Anxiety about the future.
*More energy.
*Trouble sleeping.

Then it will be followed with:

*sense of contentment and well-being with the pregnancy process.
*Loss of appetite.
*Diarrhea.
*Sense of excitement about the future.
*Lack of energy.
*Need for extra sleep.

Really? Awesome. That is really helpful.

So anyway, we are sitting in bookclub and someone said one of the the worst parts of the last trimester was the fact that when she would bend over or exert herself she would pee a little in her pants....and the others joined in and agreed. I didn't believe it....until I golfed the last couple days. Often when bending over to pick up my ball, sure enough, no bladder control.

Now we aren't talking about needing a diaper or anything, but come on. Seriously? That's gross. I realize there is a purpose for a lot of the gross things that happen during pregnancy, but there can't possibly be a reason for this.

I guess in the immortal words of Billy Madison, "You ain't cool unless you pee your pants." Well then, consider me Miles Davis. Nothing to do but embrace it.

Off to the golf course in a little bit. We might go directly out to dinner afterwards....better bring that change of underwear my mom always told me about.

Eating....

2009-04-08T13:40:00.000-05:00

....is really the only thing fun I can still do these days. And even that is limited in some respects (at least I have peanut butter back though -- that scare a few months ago had me upset). So with my "sugar test" coming up next Monday, I'm a little nervous they are going to tell me to stop eating sweets as well.

If that is the case, get ready for the grumpiest version of me you've ever seen. You can't take caffeine, adult beverages, soft cheeses, fish, eggs, deli meat AND sugar away from me all at once. I nearly snap when you take one of the above things away....let alone all of them at the same time.

So if you have any plans to visit or stay with me in the next couple months (okay, few....but I'm trying to convince myself I'll go early), I'd advise checking out how I fared in my little exam next Monday first. Because visitor beware if I fail.

You might want to say some prayers for Kevin in the meantime. Because he might look for somewhere else to live for 3 months if this thing doens't go my way.

Work nightmares

2009-04-02T21:40:00.000-05:00

I know I can't be the only one who has these. I remember having them even back to the days when I was working at Valleyfair! (never, never spell out Valleyfair! without using the exclamation point -- one of the many life lessons I learned while working at the fine establishment....that and never stay out late consuming adult beverages when you have to work on a roller coaster the next morning...heat, loud noises and people getting sick don't mix well with that morning after feeling). Anyway, back in my Valleyfair! days, I was a ride operator. My roommates told me I often would recite the pre-ride spiel and make the movements of operating the ride in my sleep. Innocent enough. Likely incredibly annoying to them, but certainly nothing to get worked up over.

These days, my work nightmares (because thinking about work in your sleep is NOT a dream if you ask me) are much more disturbing. Often, these nightmares involve showing up late to court, missing a deadline, getting yelled at by a judge, etc. You know, the usual. But last night's nightmare takes the cake.

It started out great. I was at someone's house for a party and we were all having a great time. However, later in the evening a lady walks in and won't leave me alone. Asking me all kinds of questions about work-related stuff. I didn't recognize her at first, but it turned out it was a former co-worker of mine who was particularly rude, greedy and ignorant. She kept following me around and asking me about clients, money and bills. Then, out of nowhere, she turned into a lawyer I currently have a case against, who insists on making my life difficult. So a whole new set of questions....these all about discovery and conference calls and personal property. The evening continued with this person flipping between the two personas and attempting to interrupt every conversation I tried to have.

I realize this is probably a fairly boring story for many....but in an effort to keep it clean, I'll end it there. But I dare any of you to think about two less-than-desireable people you encounter regularly and have them stalk you around a party all while morphing into one another. Frighening. Pure, unadulterated fear.

It's been a few months since I've been a part of the party scene, but if anything remotely close to that is going on out there right now, I'm happy to stay away forever. And if I find out any of my friends are inviting either of these two people to parties, I'll be accepting applications for new friends very soon.

Keep your fingers crossed, folks.

The better half's reaction

2009-04-02T21:31:00.000-05:00

....to the blog.

"Oh yeah? I'm going to start my own blog to deny everything you say."

That's my boy. Hand's off, ladies.

Pregnancy....

2009-03-31T09:02:00.000-05:00

..."isn't that bad." I've had quite a few moms tell me this in the past 4-5 months. And despite me having what could only be considered a very easy pregnancy, I'm here to tell you that is a flat-out lie. Pregnancy is that bad. I hate to complain since I have had an easy pregnancy, but all the limitations, changes in the body and general, overall tiredness (combined with the inability to actually sleep soundly) is that bad.

I'm certain part of the reason moms say pregnancy isn't that bad is because afterwards you have the most amazing addition to your life you'd ever know, but I'm a big proponent of realism and I don't like the lies people are telling me.

With all that said, I feel like I must be doing a fairly decent job of keeping my thoughts about it to myself because I overheard my better half telling someone on the phone the other day "I haven't heard much complaining, so she seems to be feeling pretty good." I'll wear that like a badge of honor.

However, that was followed up a couple days later with the following conversation -- so I'll reserve ultimate determination of Kevin's real thoughts on this process until closer to the due date:

Kevin (from the other side of the room): "Whatcha eating?"
Mary: "Ice cream."
Kevin (in an apparent commentary on my eating habits of late): "Sounds pretty good.....I hope our baby isn't made of ice cream when it comes out."
Mary: "What's that supposed to mean?"
Kevin (in a nervous laugh): "Nothing...I didn't mean...nothing. Nothing. That's not what I meant."
Mary (in a slightly agitated voice): "Next time you are pregnant you can decide what to eat. Until then, I'll make that decision for myself."

Hmmmm....maybe I should complain more. That felt pretty good. Especially since I was eating ice cream through the whole conversation. I almost licked the bowl out afterwards to prove a point, but I thought that would be taking it a little too far.

Sunday, perfect Sunday

2009-03-15T19:26:00.000-05:00

So in a telling sign of how old I have become, I just had a great Sunday -- one I never would've considered great even a couple years ago. It starts at 8:30am (because Lord knows I wasn't out late last night despite it being St. Patty's Day weekend). I wake up and make myself a nice breakfast of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, an english muffin, sliced mango and a cup of green tea. I eat while reading the newspaper and watching CNN.

After catching up on email, my fantasy basketball/baseball teams and Facebook, I take the dogs for a walk, read for awhile, take a short nap and eat lunch (turkey sandwich, celery sticks with some peanut butter, sliced cantalope and chips). All that exciting action is followed up by watching the Blue Devils win the ACC Championship (huzzah!) and the Lakers blow a big lead to the Mavs, only to pull it out and win in the end.

Then I get my garden seeds started and set up under the fluorescent lamp, clean the bathroom, organize the hall closet and do some touch-up painting in the nursery-to-be.

Now I'm about to make myself supper (the exact culinary perfection is yet to be determined) and watch my Sunday-night ABC programming. Apparently, there could be some scandal on Desperate Housewives. I'm not sure my old eyes can handle such a thing.

I wish someone could tell me when this happened. I always swore it wouldn't happen to me for a long time. And here I am, only a few months into my 30's and here I sit. It's amusing and a bit frightening to me all at once. I wonder if my obsession with The Real World, The Hills and Making the Band 4 makes me that person that just can't let go? Either way, I can't wait to see what LC does in her last season on The Hills!

Alright, I'm done complaining. Mostly because the Metamucil and warm milk is calling my name from the kitchen....

Hmmmm....

2009-03-13T21:25:00.000-05:00

....I'm setting up a blog on Friday night. Based on this information alone, I'm certain it will be the most entertaining blog ever created.