a.rose

I believe it is a common thing after the new year to have trouble remembering to write the date correctly, spending the last twelve months writing one number and then suddenly a ball drops and we have to start writing a new number. How long is it acceptable to keep making this mistake into the New Year? And just out of curiosity, how bad does it look if you write the year from two years ago? About a week ago I was filling out a bunch of forms that I had to sign and date, and I kept writing 2010.  Embarrassing. I post this as a reminder to myself.  The New Year is here. It is on its way to not being the "new year" anymore, but just the standard year that we all live in (until the next new year rolls around).  You celebrated this "new year".  Remember?  You and Devin and the girls made party hats?  And you marched around the house yelling "Happy New Year!" while banging on pots and skillets with wooden spoons?  REMEMBER? Ok, ...

When do YOU think Heather will come? For your consideration, Hallie was born on her "due date" and Hanna was born exactly a week early. Also, if you are going to guess late you should be grateful this poll is anonymous... I'm just saying.

The good news is we got this done before this happened: Yes, that is blood on her face. She's wearing a coat because we were on our way out the door to get stitches.  Thankfully, she was a pretty good sport about the whole thing: The really bad news is that we missed their doctors appointment that we had scheduled for their birthdays.  All the bruises on her face cleared up and she looked great and ready to go.  I rescheduled the appointment, and then this happens.  The doctor who stitched her up told me to expect bruising all down her nose, and a black eye.  Awesome.  I've been practicing my "story" since it happened. Also, her birthday party was that morning.  Happy Birthday, Kiddo.

Dear Wonderful People I Call My Friends - Thank you for your comments on this sad post .  Guess what? I actually slept pretty well that night, mostly ache-free and miraculously also heartburn-free, AND I think I only got up to use the bathroom four times (normal is 5-7).  I don't know what little bit of magic that was and who worked it but I was mighty grateful for it. Each of your comments made me either sit up a little taller, or make me tear up a little bit, and now on those long sleepless nights when snuggling up to my cash register* seems like the only thing left to do I can think of you guys instead. AND I can be grateful that my name isn't Horace**.  There is always that, too. And you know, today as I went about my mundane tasks and errands I told myself that to be fair I could probably think up some things about being pregnant that aren't completely awful, and I will have you know that I did come up with a few!! Here goes: 1. Strangers are (generally spe...

Tomorrow is exactly a month before my due date.  My sister's baby was born exactly a month early, and part of me is wondering: what are the odds that it happens to me?  If I could only be so lucky... I'm sitting in our basement exhausted, bored, and wishing I hadn't eaten that last tootsie roll.  Thanks to that one morsel of pseudo-chocolate I can add heartburn to the list of things that will keep me tossing and turning all night tonight.  Earlier today Devin said, "This baby better come soon, so that you can start sleeping again." It is sad to think that I may actually sleep better with a newborn than I have been the past week or so.  I lay in bed at night looking out our dark window and can't decide which would make me feel better: to actually fall asleep, or give in and cry at the frustration of not being able to sleep. I know, I know, you're all so tired of hearing me complain about being pregnant.  I'm tired of it too.  The ot...

Good art isn't easy to create.  It takes extreme focus. It takes careful concentration. It requires devotion and emotion.  Not to mention you should probably have enough of your daddy's t-shirts for your buddies to wear too. Thanks for letting them come over to play with you Lydia!

Hallie and Hanna have recently become obsessed with lions.  Hanna at random intervals will begin saying over and over, "Lions eats mans." translation: Lions eat men.  I don't have ANY idea where this phrase comes from, but once she starts saying it she will repeat it over and over and over again.  Also, the following statements have been overheard: Hallie: We don't run from cars. We just only run from lions. Hanna: Lions sharp teeth, eats mans.  Sharp teeth. (translation: Lions have sharp teeth so they can eat men.) Hallie: But there are no more lions on earth. They all just disappeared. Why did the lions disappear Mommy? And no matter how much I insist there are still lions on earth, they will not believe me. I guess a trip to the zoo is in order.  I would also like to add that I am doing my best to explain to Hanna that lions prefer to eat zebra, or antelope, but she is still fairly certain that "mans" is their meal of choice. Another obsession of...

The children's librarian knows Hallie and Hanna.  We go in to the library quite often, and she always takes a moment to talk with them, play with them, help them pick out stories.  She is pretty great.  One day she was talking to me about something and she referred to me in her statement as "Hallie's mommy." It didn't bother me, I don't think I even noticed, after all, I am Hallie's mommy.  But she instantly looked sort of shocked and said, "Oh! I mean, of course, you have a name too! You aren't just Hallie's mommy!"  And I laughed, and said, "It's fine, I mean, I am Hallie's mom. Don't worry about it." and we continued talking, and it wasn't until I had left the library that I realized that that would have been a perfect opportunity to tell her my name, and gain my own individual identity with this woman, and I passed it up.  In so many ways I feel like I am just Hallie's and Hanna's mommy.  Even ...

Many, many dark moons ago when Hallie was younger and much smaller than she is now she was running, rather unsteadily, down a sidewalk to catch up to her daddy.  Crash, boom, bang.  She landed flat on her face and scraped it up pretty good.  After much screaming and many tears and a couple of ice cream cones (Mommy needed a treat to recover) she seemed to be fine, and the whole incident may have been completely forgotten by everyone except for the awful gash just by her left eye.  It was truly gross and horrific looking. And not two weeks later she had a routine checkup with the friendly pediatric doctor.  He checked her joints, her eyes, ears, mouth, asked me all the important developmental questions and then in an unassuming manner asked me how she had gotten that injury on her eye.  I told him the story as quickly as I could, "Oh, she was running downhill and fell."  Because, you know, that was the truth. Sometime later that nice doctor moved a...

You may remember a while ago I wrote a post ranting about my sewing machine and how it chewed up and spat out the flannel that I was using to make a quilt.  Well, it got to the point where I had to borrow a friend's machine (thanks Natalie!) to finish the blanket, but everything worked out in the end - especially because it came the breakdown came right in time - cue music for awesome Christmas present. (Although it was not from Devin technically, thanks Grandma Boling!!) My friend just sent me a picture (thanks Hannah!) of her lovely cutie pie, and it looks to me like she likes it! (You're welcome, Madelyn) I am considering giving flannel a second chance on my new machine, but the irrational part of me is afraid that flannel is just plain evil and will destroy this machine as well...