Money well spent

Behold, the best $25 I've ever spent in my life. I hate people touching my feet. But Ellen at AT Nails did me right.

And yes, actually I do worry about whether I'll get stretch marks on my ankle.

And then a complete impulse buy...
While picking up the necessities at Babies R Us, we came across the cutest bassinet I've ever seen in my life. Converts to a moses basket or a chair. We had a loner, but I just couldn't leave this one on the shelf. Keith loved it because it came with only TWO screws. Does it get any better???

If you're shopping, too, you can product details here.

Problem solved

Our cat Charlie is the most curious animal I have ever met.
Whatever I'm doing, he's right there, trying to figure it out.
Even if I'm cutting garlic - he'll take part of the skin and test it out to see if it's any good.
If I'm making the bed, he's on or in the sheets the entire time.
It's an endearing trait... most of the time. Partly because he's also such a talker - he really keeps me company!

He also has a bit of an ego. He is convinced that every last thing we bring into the house is for him. Some toys are more lame than others. But pretty much every bed-like thing makes him happy. A bed-like thing may be my jacket on the floor of the mud room, freshly folded laundry in a basket, or Keith's work uniforms (which had been on the table for about thirty seconds when I took this picture).

So needless to say, I've been a bit concerned about how to keep the cats out of the crib. Charlie will get in because he thinks the bed is his. Phoebe will get in because she loves to sleep ON people - specifically their necks. I may not be a pro at this parenting thing yet, but neither seem like a great idea to me.

We brought in the basinette, Charlie claimed it. Changing table in the nursery? His. So he never gets in the habit of hanging out in the crib, I've kept it chocked full of boxes, etc. so he can't sleep in there, but he still climbs over all the stuff like a mountain goat.

The vet suggested wiping everything down with citrus flavored cleaning solution to deter them. But this cat's willing to eat garlic! And then of course the spraying technique. Guess what? Charlie loves water. Even gets in the shower with me sometimes, just to play with the drips. I was beginning to think the situation was hopeless.

Enter craigslist.
Per wise suggestion, I invested in a second changing table for the main level of our house. We put it in the office. In front of the window. Charlie hasn't left it since we put it in. Sometimes he even shares with Phoebe. I don't think he's ever been happier with a bed-like thing in his house, ever. And I'm pretty sure he'd rather be here, in front of his window, than sharing a bed with a baby in a dark corner of an upstairs room any day. I kind of miss him in bed with us at night, but this is a HUGE relief!

Clearly, the window treatments are a work in progress.... :)

And so it begins

Scene: College cafeteria
Vibe: chaos (aka "scramble system")
Purpose: shoot photographs of food and kids getting some
Quote of the day: "Wouldn't it be awesome if your water broke right now?"
Question of the day: Why in the sam hill are you thinking about that and not how to get this shot over with????

Remembering

Having been married now for three years, I find myself still adjusting to considering my "in-laws" family. I truly feel bonded and connected to them in a familial way, but still have trouble calling them just mom instead of "keith's mom", etc. I find myself eager for the baby so that they I can just call her grandma... somehow that's easier.

The most frustrating part of all this is that I can't really put my finger on where the struggle to say the words comes from. I truly want to say them. My family won't feel betrayed or abandoned by calling someone else "mom", so what's my deal? It's further complicated by the fact that Keith just jumped right into calling my parents mom and dad. In my mind, it reveals part of his nature - to be so completely loving and transparent with everyone. So do I reflect the opposite nature by avoiding addressing these people at all costs? I think at the root of it all, it reveals more of a reluctance to change. The good news is that condition isn't permanent, I hope.

I also certainly can't blame any of them for making it difficult. I'll never forget the first time I spent real quality time with Keith's family. We weren't married yet - had only been dating a few months (which just happens to be a significant percentage of our courtship, but that's another story). The Hogans had rented a cabin on Lake Michigan for the weekend. Grandma Nancy was still living with them, so she was there. And Aunt Hallie was visiting from San Diego, so she came as well. Mom, dad, Keith and Faith and Troy made it a full house.

Hallie, Mom and grandma shared the room with twin beds, Troy and Faith slept in the basement, Keith and dad crashed on couches in the living room and I got the master room to myself. (Told you they don't make it difficult to feel welcome). I thought it would be a relaxing and quiet weekend at the lake. I hadn't met Aunt Hallie.

Every time I returned to "my" room, there was a new discovery of fake poop. I found pine cones shaped like poop on my pillow. Rocks shaped like poop on the floor. Rubber poop in my bag. A dirty diaper on the dresser. She was a never ending bag of tricks. They tried to teach me the Hartley Duck Lips (to no avail) and we laughed about boob jobs and botox. I bought my first pair of "billy bob" teeth. I learned family secrets. Quiet it was not. But it was comfortable, like only spending time with family really can be.

Grandma Nancy passed away about a year later. And then Aunt Hallie got sick. This weekend is Aunt Hallie's and mom's birthday (they were born on the same day, exactly two years apart) as well as the anniversary of her death. I've been thinking about her a lot this week, and praying for her husband and girls - and mom, too. With each thought, I'm struck by how close to home it feels. Hallie's death affected my family, not just Keith's. That awareness is a gift from above, I think.

When I think about Hallie's memorial, I think about the scene below - of mom and Rachel and Lane and Little Hallie all dancing in celebration of such a dear sister, aunt, friend.

It is finished

We're a pint of touch up paint, a window blind, and some bedding away from having the nursery 100% complete. But I promised y'all pictures over a month ago, so here goes. Door from the hallway is to the left of the first picture and to the right of the last - this is a 360 of the room. Sorry they're a little soft. The stuff on the walls includes a needlework from Bangladesh, prints from Israel, B&W from Africa, a mobile and frame from Bangladesh, and a silk (?) painting from the Philippines, and some bunny ceramics that Keith's granny collected. It might prove to be a bit much, but at this point, I love it.

The swing won't stay in front of that closet door. And we put our fabulous purple glider in the living room and moved the lazy boy up from the basement because... well... can you believe we have more room in this bedroom than our living room?

The Armoir (another of Keith's inheritance from granny) has had the fabric replaced and yes, Heidi, that's your PBK mobile above the crib. Can I keep it?

And for you worry warts out there, I KNOW --- Nothing in the crib except for baby. But Peter's holding down the fort for now.

My parents came this weekend and my mom helped me make some decisions about the clothes situation. It's solved. I weigh 20lbs less now. Huge relief. Huge. I just needed someone to tell me what to do. It worked.

All this is probably way too much information... but something tells me there's a handful of you who will still have questions. My answer? Come visit.

overly dramatic, yet desperate plea for help

No one reading this should be surprised that I like to organize. Especially closets. I don't always like maintaining organization, but getting everything into appropriate groups makes my heart happy. And nothing is better than an organized closet.

Keith gave me light in the nursery closet last week, so I've begun trying to figure out where things will go in the entire room. You would think this would be less of a chore for me - it really is just grouping things, but it's completely unknown territory. I sort of feel like I've been asked to organize a wood working shop. Do you want chizels hanging for easy access or are they better in a drawer? Does each tool get its own spot, or do you group similar tools together, kind of like in the kitchen? I'm completely paralyzed without a plan.

I started by washing the oodles of hand-me-downs we've received. And then I stopped. Do I organize by type? Ie short-sleeved-no-legged onesies, sleepers, winter, summer... And if this is the route, what are the categories??? I opted to go with sizes instead - I sorted by 0-3, 3-6, and 6-9 month and for now, each size has a drawer. But it's not going to cut it. I'm almost out of drawer space and the sizes across brands are totally different. Is there any point in hanging anything ever? Oooh - just had an idea - I do have some of those closet shelf hanger thingys... but still the sorting issue.

I know that I will find a groove once I'm actually living in that room, but in the meantime - any advice??? I already signed up for Martha's organizing tip of the day but so far she's been worthless and I'm one more package from Diapers.com away from a meltdown.