Haiku what was I saying again?

Writing a birth plan
Guy's easily distracted
We need to finish.

Little Bird likes to
Kick along with the typing
Giving his input.

We are bad students
Not doing our birth homework
Until the last night.

Got the names of two
Guy's easily distracted
Doulas to check on.

When the day gets here
I know that he will be so
Very focused then.

Because that's just the way he is. Saving his energy for the real deal.

Sigh.

Less whiny haiku can be found here. And yes, I notice that it is 11:55 PM. No, I cannot possibly do this any later next week.

It's been a long time since my last confession

I have a been a bad blogger. I have not been reading and commenting like I normally would. My apologies are probably empty, but I'm offering them anyway. I try to keep up. It's just so busy. I'm sure you all understand, and you are shaking your heads because here you are reading my little words . . . I'll catch up, I swear.

Speaking of behind, there are lots of links to go up on the Team Whymommy page. I have been slack. Susan has done such a good job of keeping them linked up on her blog, and once again, I am the slack friend. Let's just say that I have chosen to offer her some consistency in her life. I'm still here, and I'm still flaky.

And as if I haven't laid enough of my current flaws out on the table, here's something else stupid I did.

I was getting into our incredibly tall bed last night (with the humph and splat method I learned from Paige), and I actually injured myself on a pillow. Yes. I cut my elbow wide open on my pillow. Blood, bandaids, and everything.

Apparently, the pillow has a lethal zipper on it. I unwittingly put my elbow on the zipper, hoisted my 190 pound self (grow baby grow) onto the bed, and tore open my elbow. I am a talented, talented woman.

Baby Bongo

There's a new review of the BabyPlus prenatal education system over at Props and Pans. I've been wearing this little baby bongo for a few weeks now, and I'm planning on continuing through the rest of the pregnancy.

Yes, I feel a little silly with it on. Considering the president of the company admitted to me that she felt a little silly too when she first started wearing it, I guess that's alright.

So if you call me and hear something that sounds like a Linn drum from the early 80's going on in the background, just know that Little Bird is having a little prenatal schooling.

A contest will be added a little later in the day to win your own BabyPlus (a $150 value). Just head over to Props and Pans and check it out.

Trees please

Getting the trees is one of my favorite holiday tradition. After a run to Starbucks for hot chocolate, we headed to our favorite spot to buy a Christmas tree.

We aren't looking for big trees. We aren't looking for perfect trees. We were looking for our trees.

Here is Lovely, pointing out a spot where this tree needs some love. Both of our trees needed some serious love and had a definite side that is now hidden by the wall. We like them that way. Little Charlie Brown trees.











The Commander is good for more than hauling keyboards and music gear. I was delighted to discover that you could haul not one, but two Christmas trees home on top of it.










Guy frees one of the trees from the roof rack.










And here is the tree in the living room. The blue and silver tree. The side in the corner is facing that way for a reason. It's missing several branches back there. But you would never know. It's a beautiful tree, and I love it.

We'll have to take a picture of the tree in the dining room as well. It's also a little Charlie Brown tree that just needed some love.

You know, most days, I feel like a little Charlie Brown tree that Guy picked out and gave some love.

I'm such a dork.

Traditions adjusted

Thanksgiving weekend was wonderful. We had two dinners; one with Papa, Boo, and Pilot, and one with Lovely. Duplicated right down to the sparkling punch, appetizers, and the table setting. It's important to us that she knows she is missed when she isn't here. It's also important to us that she never feel guilty for having a good time spending holidays with her mother's family too. Having a replay of Thanksgiving day is just a small way of letting her know.

One reason I love Thanksgiving so much is because after Thanksgiving, I can officially start celebrating Christmas. We decorated our trees today. One in the living room and one in the dining room. The living room one is the silver and blue tree. The tree I get anal about and move around decorations to be just right. The tree where even the presents have to match.

The dining room tree has multi-colored lights and all of the random ornaments. There are ornaments from my childhood, and ones from Guy's childhood. Some of his mother's ornaments are tucked safely in a Victoria's Secret box, which he and I both get a good laugh about. Our pasts, brought together on one tree.

He said his mother would have loved that tree. I'm so glad.

My grandmother would also love that tree. It has just the right amount of holes and missing branches to be a tree that needed to be loved. And it has her old tree topper, proudly crowning the tip top of the tree.

Guy teases me about my love of tradition during the holidays, but today he confessed that he loves it. He said it reminded him of his mother, and that he was glad Little Bird would have a mom who was a little nutty for the holidays. I'm pretty sure he was being sweet.

Juggling Christmas Day traditions will be a challenge when Little Bird is old enough to start understanding what is happening. Every other year, Lovely will be with us on Christmas morning, and every other year, not until Christmas evening. We will have to have two traditions. You can't replay Christmas like you can Thanksgiving, so we will just have to have two traditions.

But it's like she and I decided on Friday this year while celebrating Thursday's holiday. It's just a date on the calendar. The holiday is the time whenever you celebrate it. She is a smart one, that kiddo.

So I'm learning to be flexible in my expectations. This year, we didn't actually get the trees until Saturday morning because Guy needed to lay tile in the foyer on Friday. We didn't actually switch out the everyday dishes with the holiday dishes until Saturday because technically, it was still Thanksgiving at our house.

And that's okay. Shoot. Thanksgiving being my favorite day of the year, I guess you could say that I'm pretty lucky to have it last twice as long. And I'm definitely lucky to have this wonderful family to share my holidays with.

Little Bird is kicking and I'm counting

I seriously think that bruises are going to appear around my ribs soon. Little Bird has decided that it is way fun to kick his momma as hard as he can right up under her ribs. It's beginning to smart.

Deep down, I like the kicking though. I like knowing that he is still comfortably nestled in my growing womb. I like having his movements remind me that he is doing alright.

I've been doing my kick counts. Thanks to Props and Pans and a little technology, I've been doing them with a kickTrak. It's a really cool little device that times how long it takes to reach 10 fetal movements and then stores up to 10 sessions so that you can look back and compare. It's nifty.

You can win one for yourself if you like. You have to pop on over to Props and Pans and leave a comment after the kickTrak post.

Meanwhile, I'm going to try some cats and cows to see if I can get this kid to reposition to the left ribs for awhile. Ow.

Haiku Friday, by 35 minutes to go

Gratuitous shot
Of turkey stock on the stove
Will freeze twenty cups.







My boys in new chairs
Ready to eat all they can
And sleep through football.






More haiku, and a sloppy fun Thanksgiving here.

The pie

I hope this is worth the wait. I forgot that the pie wouldn't actually be finished until Thanksgiving day, so I couldn't finish this post on Wednesday. Photos are included after the recipe. Enjoy!


Black Bottom Banana Cream Pie

1 9 inch pie crust
3 tablespoons cornstarch, divided
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa
Dash of salt
1 1/3 cups 1% low-fat milk, divided
1 ounce semisweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon stick margarine or butter
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 ounces block-style fat-free cream cheese, softened
2 cups sliced ripe banana (about 2 large bananas)
1 1/2 cups frozen fat-free whipped topping, thawed
Chocolate curls (optional, and I prefer it without for taste, but they are very pretty)

Prepare and bake Pastry Crust in a 9-inch pie plate unless you are my mother, in which case, you have made your pie crust from scratch. Either way, it should be baked and then cool completely on a wire rack.

Combine 1 tablespoon cornstarch, 2 tablespoons sugar, cocoa, and dash of salt in a small, heavy saucepan; gradually add 1/3 cup milk, stirring with a whisk. Cook 2 minutes over medium-low heat. Stir in chocolate; bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce heat to low; cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Spread chocolate mixture into bottom of prepared crust.

Combine 2 tablespoons cornstarch, 1/2 cup sugar, 1/4 teaspoon salt, eggs, 1 cup milk, and margarine in a heavy saucepan over
Prep medium heat, stirring constantly with a whisk. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, and cook 30 seconds or until thick. Remove from heat. Add vanilla. Beat cream cheese until light (about 30 seconds). Add 1/4 cup hot custard to cream cheese, and beat just until blended. Stir in remaining custard.

Arrange banana slices on top of chocolate layer; spoon custard over bananas. Press plastic wrap onto surface of custard; chill 4 hours. Remove plastic wrap. Spread whipped topping evenly over custard. Garnish with chocolate curls, if desired. Chill until ready to serve.

Melting the chocolate for the black bottom of the pie.

Spreading the chocolate in the baked and cooled pie crust, which I bought from the store.

Sorry, Momma.

Making the custard and trying not to burn my big belly on the stove. This pie involves LOTS of whisking.

Sorry, Bubblewench.

Arrange the banana slices over the chocolate layer.

Spread the custard over the layer of bananas.

Cover the pie in Cool Whip. I didn't use any chocolate shavings on top because I don't like them.

A slice of the pie in all its glory.

Guy eating the LAST slice of pie during Grey's Anatomy last night. There were only five people at our house yesterday with 2 cheesecakes, 3 pies, and some pumpkin bread. This pie gets finished off the same day every year.

I'm just glad this year it wasn't the dog who finished it off.

Have one for me, will ya?

Today is another prep day. There is more cooking and cleaning to be done, and recipes to share.

The first recipe I want to share is for Cajun Bloody Marys. Of course, I won't be making these this year, but usually, we make a big pitcher and sip on them throughout the week. Yum. Warms my heart thinking about it. They will also warm your throat. This recipe comes from the kitchen of Emeril. I took the liberty of augmenting it though because a 2 1/2 cup yield is just sad.

Cajun Bloody Mary

• 6 cups tomato juice
• 3 cups vodka
• 6 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 6 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• 4 tablespoon prepared horseradish
• 6 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
• 8 teaspoons hot sauce
• 4 teaspoons Emeril's Original Essence
• 2 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 2 teaspoon cayenne
• Pickled green beans or okra, for garnish
• Cocktail onions, for garnish

Combine all ingredients (except garnish) in a small pitcher and stir to combine. Refrigerate until well chilled. Serve over ice with pickled green beans or okra and cocktail onions for garnish.

Yield: 10 cups

Be sure that you make these now. Right this second. The longer they sit in the fridge, the better they get.

Off to prep for the pie. You know the one. The dog's favorite pie.

THANKSgivin' prep day

The cornbread is made. It is sitting out with the white bread, getting good and stale to go into the dressing.

The onions and celery are chopped.

The biscuits are made and cooked just until risen. Thursday, they will be ready to just pop in the over for a few more minutes.

A preview pumpkin pie is in the fridge for Guy. It's his favorite, so why not start a little early? Besides, Boo is bringing her pumpkin pie on Thursday, and trust me, you don't want to serve your pumpkin pie after Boo has served hers. It's killer.

I'm picking up the turkeys from The Fresh Market this afternoon. Yes, I said turkeys. I got two smaller ones this year so that one could sit on the table during the start of the meal and look pretty. The other one will be carved in the kitchen and served. I'm busy stocking the freezer for when Bird arrives, so I figured I could use any extra in casseroles anyway.

There is at least one more trip to the store to make for milk, eggs, and even more butter, but other than that, I think I'm done for today.

I so love this week. I love cooking a meal that takes 3 days. I love having the house smell like fall and having good friends and family come over for the sole purpose of eating.

Tomorrow, I give you the preparation of the famous Black Bottom Banana Cream Pie. And I swear on all that is holy in the universe, the damn dog isn't going to eat one bite of the pie this year. Not even a lick.

****************

Last week, one of my high school students asked me with a smug grin on his face if I said, "THANKSgiving" or "ThanksGIVING." One is apparently more cultured than the other. It's hard to know how you say a word once you start thinking about it.

I told him it was most likely that I said it the uncouth way, and he laughed. Even though he has lived in the South most of his life, his family is Swedish, and there is not a trace of a Southern accent in his English. He enjoys picking on my inner redneck.

As he left his lesson, I called out after him, "Happy THANKSgivin'." With no "g" on the end. With the emphasis strongly on "thanks." With him, practically rolling in the front yard with laughter.

Glad to know that my lovely drawl gives people such pleasure.

This is why certain of you to whom I would love to talk may never, in real life, hear my voice. The difference in listening to me talk and reading what I write is about 50 IQ points.

Sigh. (Spoken in three separate syllables).

More Wisdom of Double D

Double D, my youngest nephew, has an idea. He has lots of ideas, but maybe this one is marketable.

Upon listening in on a conversation between his parents about the high cost of milk, he offered this suggestion,

"You could always try donkey's milk. That would be cheaper."

Why? Because he has noticed there are more donkeys than cows.

Where he noticed this is beyond me. They don't live in the country. They don't go to farms.

But for some reason, Double D has decided that donkeys' milk would definitely help the economic situation in this case.

So incredibly boring to everyone but me

I lamented passing on my little house to a new owner. My house. My first house that I loved so very much even though it looked much like a booger someone else would just wipe on their jeans.

Once it was sold, it was a relief to not have 2 mortgages, to say the least. Knowing that we sold it to a developer that would soon want to tear it down and build a McMansion wasn't a relief, but it was reality. Bringing us back to the booger reference.

Today, the reassessed property taxes were announced. Guy and I just looked up the new taxes for our house and what used to be my house. Once again, I was so proud of my little booger house. And so glad that I don't have to pay the new taxes.

The land alone is now valued at just less than what I paid for the house. The taxes will be doubling. We will not be paying them. Yay. We sold at just the right time too, because city council is poised to put the kabash on McMansions going up after teardowns. Leaving the new owner of my little booger in a precarious situation if he doesn't build soon.

Our house? Went up a mere $6,000. Hee hee. We find ourselves on the right side of a climbing neighborhood whose value has not yet caught up in the grand scheme of things. I'm pleased as punch.

Bonus. This house doesn't look like a booger. Anymore.

Grown ups moved in

Our bedroom now has furniture. We looked for over a year for something that we both liked that didn't cost 80 million dollars, and of course we ended up back at one of the first places we looked.

It isn't fancy, but it is handmade. It wasn't expensive, but it does look nice. Very simple and plain. Very functional. We love it. I won't be sad to see my Rubbermaid dressers go.

And, it is one more thing in my house that looks like what my mother has. It's getting a little creepy really. Every time I have a hand in picking out something, it ends up looking a lot like my mother's things. Thank goodness she has good taste.

The only thing I don't like about it is that the bed is incredibly tall. As I type this, perched like some sort of princess perched up high, Pupstar is whining by the side of the bed. She cannot in any way, shape, or form, begin to jump on this bed.

I'm thinking we might have to invest in some doggie steps. As seen on TV.

Haiku Friday, counting it down

30 weeks today
Lights a fire under our butts
Getting floors done now.

Bamboo all downstairs
Except for tile in foyer
I want baseboards back.

Family from before
Had peeing Border Collie
Nasty carpet pads.

Crib still in the box
Guitars in every corner
Bird will need a room.

10 more weeks to go
Waiting 'til the last minute
Maybe not so smart.


More haiku, less stress here.

Welcome to the World

Amy and Chris are welcoming their little Turkey into the world this morning. I'm so happy for them I could just pop.

Me, my Sil, and Amy all lost babies around the same time last year. Then Sil gave birth to El on November 2, and now Amy has had Carter Dale this morning. Now, I guess we just wait for Bird. He might be a little behind, but that's okay.

So congratulations, Amy. I'm happy to have had the honor of following you through your journey to becoming a mom.

Rationalization

We don't typically keep candy in the house. Or store bought cookies. Or little powdered donuts. If it is in the house, then it gets eaten. If not by one of us, then by the setter-goat, who helped Lovely polish off some of her Halloween candy. A gummy crabby patty to be exact. Weirdo.

None of us need the snacking though. It's not healthy and promotes bad habits. Weight gain, eating for comfort, eating for boredom, you name it. Prepackaged snacks are a big no-no around here.

However, when I was tooling around in Target today, I spied a lone bag of orange and black MnM's. Everything else Halloween was gone. Cleared out. But someone had missed this one bag.
I knew it had to be cheap.

38 cents, people. That bag of MnM's was 38 cents.

And it was so lonely with all of the Christmas stuff. It just had to come home with me.

Wisdom of Double D

If you need a reason to get a flu shot, my youngest nephew, Double D, has one for you.

"Shots make you have muscles."

Amen, brother. He was helping talk his older brother and sister into getting their flu shots without being scared. He wasn't scared, because he's tough, he said.

Double D has a lot of wisdom to share. Enough for my Sil to start her own blog. Just for stories about him.

For now though, just remember that shots will give you muscles. Later, we might can talk about his love of Walker Texas Ranger.

Stitch in time

My friends here where I live are an odd hodgepodge of various types of people and ages too. One of my favorite people is a woman in her 70's who lives in a little town just north of here. Her home is in the historic district just a block off of a traditional small town downtown. Her little Sheltie guards the front yard with her fierce yips.

This past Friday, we spent the day together at her home. She was teaching me how to sew. It was incredible loads of fun spending time with her, learning from her, and eating her cream cheese and olive sandwiches.

When Momma was here, she went with me to buy a sewing machine and then helped me learn to thread it. She made a list of essentials and braved Joann's with me to stock my sewing box. We ran out of time though, before we got to have a full blown sewing lesson.

My grandmother Honey was a seamstress. An artist really. The clothes she made were perfect. My mother's wardrobe was the envy of her college friends, and all of it was made by Honey. My Barbies were the best dressed dolls ever. I still have most of the clothes she made for them including the wedding dress with layers of ruffles, the slip, the petticoat, the veil, and the flowers that had a little elastic band to help Barbie hold onto them while walking down the aisle.

Momma and Honey would talk me through their sewing, but I never did any hands on work with them. I have to do something hands on to really get it.

However, it did give me a lot of the vocabulary to start off my lesson with Mrs. S. Friday morning, I loaded up my machine, material, pattern, and all the notions and headed up to her house.

I knew that I wanted to be able to produce the end results of sewing, but I didn't know that I would enjoy the process so much. Part of that, of course, was the good company. But yesterday, while Guy and Papa were putting in the living room flooring and Lovely was drowning in projects for school, I sewed.

And I liked it.

Little Bird will have rompers and jon jon's. Princess will have a new winter coat. Guy and I will have cheesy matching pj pants. I even bought a pattern and material to make Bird's baptism outfit.

I have never been a crafty person. I don't visualize things well, and I'm terrible at knowing where to start on a project. But sewing connects me to the women in my family that came before me. It gives me a great reason to spend the day with Mrs. S.

It gives me a skill that will create things for my family and friends. I like that.

And the cream cheese and olive sandwiches. Those are pretty good too.

Haiku Friday and I hate cancer, but who doesn't?

Not in the mood for
Writing good haiku tonight
Chemo next Friday.


Find more and better haiku here.

*********

We are not foolish enough to think that Momma wouldn't have to go back on chemo at some point. Her cancer is a chronic condition. We know that.

So when she called today, and I could hear the news in the tone of her voice before her words were spoken, I didn't crumble. It didn't feel like a crisis. I didn't immediately run through all of the things I needed to cancel in order to catch a plane.

Now that they have moved, thank God, they are near my brother. Bro and Sil are great with them, and the grandchildren bring joy into their lives. There will be help. There will not be Daddy taking Momma a piece of bread folded in half and calling it a sandwich. Bless his heart. This is so huge. I'm so grateful that they are near family now.

I think she will be okay. I think they will zap it back again this time. I think that she will live long enough to know Little Bird and for Little Bird to fall completely madly for her.

But she won't be here in January. Not for the birth. After all the wrestling with whether or not it was a good idea for them to be here, the coming to terms with how I wanted her here even it was more work because of Daddy, after all that?

It isn't even an option.

And of course, that makes me want her more than ever. And I just feel really sad.

But I also want you for a long time, so we will compromise. Stay there and fight now. Come here after you've kicked some more cancer in the tush. Little Bird will want you to stick around for a long time.

How to torture me

Take away my Diet Coke and internet service. Welcome to today.

The Diet Coke is a personal matter I suppose. Who am I kidding? Bird has decided there isn't enough room for him and any amount of gas in my abdomen. Major ow. So I'm cutting out the carbonation and adjusting a few things in my diet so that maybe I won't be doubled over in pain today.

The internet though? Is a mystery. Just stopped working. Guy hasn't had a chance to work on it yet, so I just have to wait it out. Thank goodness for free internet at Panera Bread.

What's been going on then? Most importantly, Andria had her baby. A little boy. Makes me want to jump on a plane right this very second. I am thinking a trip to her neck of the woods is definitely in order for next summer. It's somewhere Guy and I have talked about going for awhile now, and I just found out another friend of mine has moved there. Tempting. Very very tempting.

I spent a lovely day with my friend T yesterday. Her little boy is really turning into a little boy and is no longer a baby. It makes me a little sad, because I so wanted for our kids to be the same age and best buds, but it's alright. Her oldest is a gem, and stinking hilarious. She told T the other day that I was going to have a baby, and already had a stepdaughter and a stephusband. So funny.

Guy's ankle is getting better. It never did get to where he couldn't walk on it, and it wasn't very black and blue, so he decided it was just sprained and he would tough it out. I dropped him off at work the past couple of days because it is such a long walk from his parking space to his office, but today he is hoofing it all on his own.

As you can tell, I'm ignoring NoMoPloBoMoFo or whatever it's called. I did have a goal this month, and it was to comment on every single one of Zoot's posts because she is trying to reach 100 instead of just posting everyday. Also Liz's. And Whymommy's. And, well, just keep up with reading and commenting in general. Obviously, the lack of internet service has hampered my ability to reach this goal tremendously.

Tomorrow, Momma gets the results from her scans. Baited breath.

This weekend, Guy and I start our childbirth classes. We have an independent childbirth instructor that is coming to the house and giving us all the lowdown. I'm quite excited. There will also be a dad's class, a breastfeeding class, and she might help us find a doula. Guy is still convinced that we don't need one; that he will be everything I need. And I tend to believe that. He is everything I need. I'm not quite convinced that he might need one. He really hates seeing me in pain.

And in this random post of catching up, I leave you with the funniest thing that has happened to me in forever.

I'm sitting in Panera Bread. Bagel crumbs litter the front of my shirt. Pregnant belly busting out in all it's glory. Just minding my own business when dude in some camo and a hunting vest comes over and tries to put the moves on me. I didn't want to be mean, but it was all I could do not to just bust out laughing at him. How very very bizarre.

The last one

My newest niece joined our family this past weekend. I was waiting on a picture, and now that I have one, I forgot to ask if I could post it. So you will have to take my word that she is beautiful. She really is.

That makes five. Five wonderful kiddos. I'm a lucky aunt. I know that five is a lot of kids, and that it makes sense for them to be "done" now, but in a way, I'm a little sad. The oldest is 11. That is a long time to have baby excitement coming over and over. Plus, my sister-in-law is the best pregnant woman. She is one that really does glow. She's just good at it. And she's an awesome mom too. So, there is a little sadness at the end of this part of their lives.

But there is even more happiness at this little one who has completed their family. I can't wait to meet her in person.


Happy Birthday, little one. Welcome to the world!

Poor limpy Guy

Poor Guy. He is sitting next to me with an icepack on his ankle. Before that, it was heat. And before that, ice.

Before that, it was tumbling down the stairs on his way to his car. Poor thing. I hate seeing him hurt. He is a good patient, but it makes me so sad.

He is all cripple and limpy now. His poor ankle looks like a softball.

Actually, God pushed him down the stairs to punish him for being incredibly antagonistic today.

Kidding.

Now back to the nursing. Time to switch back to heat.

Floored

I am hoping that what I was not able to express with my face and mouth today will come through with my fingers.

There is a group of women who are my friends. From California to Colorado to Chicago. From Texas to South Carolina to West Virginia to D.C and more. We share a common ground. We share support, stories, and pictures. Who am I kidding? We share just about everything.

I spend a little time with them almost everyday. The days I don't get to check in on them, I find that I think about them and wonder how they are. What their little ones are doing. How their house or job hunting is going. If that cold has moved on. If that baby has come yet.

There is a certain part of a friendship that you miss out on when you are long distance. I don't think though, that it means it is any less of a friendship. I don't usually distinguish in conversation between my "in real life" friends and my "long distance" friends anymore. Friendship is based in communication, and that is what this group of women does. We communicate.

Today, two of these friends were in my neck of the woods. LA had a birthday this week and was coming to celebrate with her brother who lives just a few miles from me. Jenn was just passing through and made it work so that we could all have lunch and celebrate LA's birthday together.

So I thought.

After a yummy lunch at a local pharmacy with a cute cafe attached to it, we went back to LA's brother's home for some cake. Cake for a birthday is perfectly logical. Behind me, Jenn is bringing out gift bags. Obviously, our friends had gotten together to give LA some birthday partying even across the miles.

So I thought.

Some times, I'm slow.

They were baby gift bags. And they were for Bird. And me. And Guy.

And this was a shower. A baby shower that my friends put together across the entire country and attended by two of the closest ones. I couldn't speak. Well, beyond asking for a tissue, I couldn't speak.

The gifts were amazing. There were things from our registry, things that they had picked out just for Bird, and things that they had made.

There were three group projects. A bag full of onesies that each of them had decorated with either bird themes or music themes. A quilt with squares from each of the seamstresses, and quilted out in California before making its way back here. And a scrapbook that only requires I add photos. They know me well, and know of my complete lack of scrapbooking skills (by the way, Kimmie, Lovely totally designed your page for Bubbles).

And even though it was only the three of us there "in real life," I haven't felt so surrounded by love and support in a very long time. Maybe ever.

That they would go to such lengths to help me celebrate this new little life?

I can only say that I am completely floored.

Humbled.

And more grateful than I can find the words to say.

Haiku Friday for the girl

Lovely and her dog
Dressed up for trick-or-treating
Honey's kimono.

Grandmother's old frock,
Crazy dog in a tutu,
Not man's. Girl's best friend.

Award day at school
Social studies shining star
On honor roll too.


Happy Haiku Friday. More here.

Remembrance

Today, my friend Amy reminded me that we were all finding out we were pregnant this time last year. She and I dropped out of the July babies group, but are both expecting again. Her little Turkey is almost done baking, and should be here by Thanksgiving. We are both having boys, and have excellent taste in names, in my opinion (just a little teaser for her).

Yesterday, as I sat in the waiting room during one stage of the glucose test, for some reason, my mind wandered back to the day I had to have my follow up appointment after the miscarriage.

And as I sat there, hyped up on sugar, holding a bag of free formula, and grooving to the latest riverdance in my belly, I cried.

I realized though, that it isn't the desperate, heart breaking, I-will-never-get-over-this, kind of pain any longer.

It is just the pain of missing someone I loved that is gone. Tears over remembering how completely devastated I was to be empty. To have lost that little life. Tears of remembrance.

These next couple of months will be strange. There will be so many milestones to cross, all while my belly (and hopefully not my boobs) continues to grow. We will pass by anniversaries and create new ones, all at the same time.

And that, I think, is what life really boils down to. Remembering to remember and not forgetting to move on.