I Smell Like Vermont.

Apparently, fenugreek is used to flavor artificial maple syrup, and that is exactly what it tastes like (even through the capsule). Maple syrup. When I burp...maple syrup. And reading up on it, it can make your sweat and pee smell like maple syrup, too. Oh, and also the Pea. Maple syrup.

The Epic Battle of the (Not) Thrush 2: Electric Boogaloo

So...not thrush after all.

After all that, it turns out that I have Raynaud's Phenomenon. It is often misdiagnosed as thrush as it has very similar symptoms.  So after spending an obscene amount of money and effort trying to get rid of the yeast, it turns out that all it took was a heating pad and $3 bottle of Vitamin B6.  But the pain is gone, so hooray.  Turns out, sometimes, when you hear hooves pounding in the distance, you should think zebras.

But it would appear that my milk supply never recovered from the initial mastitis (and B6 is known to further deplete supply), so the next step in Adventures in Breastfeeding is attempting to increase that.  I'm crossing my fingers over fenugreek working.  The Pea just isn't gaining at the rate that he should.  Part of the problem (and I'm NOT complaining) is that he's just not fussing about not getting enough and he's sleeping so much at night that he really needs to get those calories in the day.  He's just so dang happy most of the time.  Seriously, he's just too adorable.  He makes baby pandas look like this in comparison.

Home Sweet Hotel

Wow. I'm so ready to be back in my own house.

The Pea seems to have finally figured out that I'm asking him to sleep in a travel crib (the HORROR!) To his defense, it's rather small, and when he rotates around, he gets stuck with his head and feet touching the sides.

And there are no words for how bad Sonny has been (well, no non-expletives). For example--he's not allowed on our couches or chairs. He knows this. This has been a rule since the very beginning. What is the first thing he does when he walked into the hotel room? He curls up on the sofa. Another example--this morning, I ran down to grab some continental breakfast, which has been quite excellent thank you very much, and when I got back to the room, I put my tray on the table and took the Pea back to the bedroom (thank goodness for suites!) for his nap. It took me approximately 3 minutes to put him down, and in that amount of time, Sonny crawled up onto the table and ate my sausage. The jerk! Methinks someone needs another tranquilizer today.

And I think the Pea's going as stir-crazy as I am. He spent most of yesterday afternoon yelling at me. Not like "I'm mad" or "I'm sad" or "I'm wet" or "I'm hungry". I don't know how I knew, but it was just very clearly "I'm bored".

At least tomorrow's check-out day. Then I just get to spend the weekend putting my house back together. :)

Tougher Than My Dog

So I was watching the news tonight (local news, I should specify), and one of the top stories was about this dog that was found in a small town in my area (of Arkansas). I perked up at the story because his name was Sonny just like my oh-so-brave doggy, but Sonny II would kick my dog's heiny.

Anyway, he was found in SmallTown, and when the vet who found him by the side of the road called the owner's # on Sonny II's collar, they discovered the dog had travelled from Chattanooga!! AND Sonny II had to have one of his legs amputated due to a GUNSHOT WOUND. What on earth happened to this dog???

Compare this to my dog's day: We're currently staying in a hotel due to having our floors re-done, and Sonny had to be doped today because he was so worked up over the change in scenery.

Shark Jumpin' Galore!

I think that JumpTheShark is one of the first/only internet crazes that I was an early adopter of. I read an article about it in some magazine in 1997 or 98, and I visited/voted on the site when there weren't that many shows. And I'd just like to point out that I believe they themselves have jumped the shark...oh, right about the time that someone added Jake and the Fat Man.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the origins of the "Jump the Shark" phenomenon, it refers to part 3 of the 3-part episode (which right there should give you a clue) of Happy Days which originally aired September 20, 1977 in which Fonzie literally (ski) jumps over shark-infested waters. Basically, there was nothing they could do after that episode to top themselves...took the cake...it peaked...went downhill...insert metaphor here ________. Happy Days went on to produce more than 100 episodes after that, but you get the gist.

And I'm kind of bored with debating which T.V. shows have jumped and why. The only two which haven't in my opinion (30 Rock and How I Met Your Mother) are the two shows I watch. Well, those and The Office, which repeatedly jumps every time they mess with our hearts with Jim & Pam, but I don't care. And some might argue that HIMYM (or him-yim as Bill and I refer to it) jumped after the second Robin Sparkles video, but I disagree.

But, nay, I am here to discuss a monumental, nationwide shark-jumping of a phenomenon. Which brings me to another internet fad...rickrolling. In case you're one of the 3 people in America who has not yet been rickrolled, here's a detailed explanation. In a nutshell, somebody (say, your little sister) e-mails you a link to check out (something like www dot adorablebabykittensandpuppies dot com or similar), but when you go to the actual link, it takes you to a video of Rick Astley singing "Never Gonna Give You Up". I'm probably not telling you anything new here.

But, HELLO!, did you watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade when ALL OF AMERICA and probably a good deal of Canada got rickrolled simultaneously?? One minute, I was watching some bizarre children's puppet show float that I will unfortunately probably be very well aquainted with in three years, the next minute, it was a rickroll of monumental proportions. Rick Astley LIVE!! And the parade producers didn't even insist that he use an updated track to lip sync to--it was his original recording. It made my day.

So I've decided that I love talking about Shark Jumpin' so much that I'm going to make it a regular feature of this here blog. Feel free to leave ideas for future shark rants. I'll pick an arbitrary day...hmmm...Shark Jumpin' Thursdays (but not this Thursday as I have limited internet access this week due to our floors being re-done...long story involving water damage from Hurricane Ike and culminating in me spending 8 hours a day locked up in a hotel room with an overtired baby and Sonny acting like a squirrel in a paper bag).

Really, Really Not a Geometry Whiz...

Thank you to Megan for pointing out that that would not be two 2X4's. Two 2X3's...no two 3X4's!!

Okay, seriously, I hated geometry.

Geometry Whiz...

I was always pretty good at math in school.  Okay, perhaps I'm downplaying that a bit.  I was one of those students who went and competed in MathCounts and the state Trig competition and such.

However, I always stunk at Geometry.  Not like bad grades stunk...I still got good grades in it, but I hated every minute of it.  Postulums and theorems and proofs...drawing countless cirles and triangles and angles and lines.  I knew that I didn't want to be an engineer or architect, so I didn't really see the point in any of it.

Until last night when I printed off umpteen thousand pictures of the Pea's announcements (and that's a whole other side story of why my child is over 3 months old and I'm just now getting around to sending out announcements. Let's just say that I learned my lesson in the old "I'll just make my own announcements" department.  Crafting is to be used strictly for recreation and gifts at this point.)  Turns out, dividing a 4X6 picture yields not two 2X3's but two 2X4's.  Sigh.  And duh.  So now, the project that WILL NOT END has become the project that WILL NOT END NEVER EVER NEVER NEVER EVER.

Must go and crop a few more pictures.

Cool Kids' Table

I feel like I'm in high school all over again (only with a 3 month old chewing on my arm).

So here's the deal:  I am an extrovert.  I need adult interaction.  Bill and I host a church small group (which we love), and I'm in a women's Bible Study (which I love).  But I would really enjoy having a circle of mom friends for informal get-togethers, playdates, etc.  A Mom's Group, if you will.

And there are many out there.

One of which I remember reading about while I was still pregnant.  It made an impression on me because (a) one of my friends was in it and was quoted in the article, (b) the women in it seemed genuinely tight-knit, and (c) they stressed that they valued "coolness" in their members...they actually used another word but I don't want to disparage the group.  I really appreciated their philosophy of not just being a mom's group, but a women's group--they really acknowledge the fact that you don't cease being an individual just because you have kids.  So they schedule things like girls' nights out sans kiddos.  In short, I'm more than just a pod for the pea.  I filed it away in the ol' noggin as "hmmm...remember this for after the pea bursts forth from said pod."

And today, I decided to look them up online.  And they are...closed/full.  Apparently, I should have submitted an application while still pregnant (I'm not kidding). 

So my question is this:  What would you do?  Wait around for an opening (stare longingly at the bench until a girl named Holly or Jennifer moves away then skootch in)?  Call my friend (Ashely ha, ha that's for you Sara) and see if she can get them to bend the rules and let me in?  Say "forget this, I'll make up my own group!" and then never get around to actually doing it?  Find another group to join?  Any suggestions of specific groups are appreciated if the latter is your vote.

The Tale of Emo Baby (or How I'm Losing the Epic Battle of the Thrush)

So there's a reason why it looks like my child has been in a bar brawl with a magic marker. And the hair...well, sometimes it gets brushed correctly after a bath, sometimes not.



When he was 4 weeks old (that being over 2 months ago), I had a wicked good case of mastitis. The doctor treated it with antibiotics, and my sugar-loving little body (now with milk!) let the candida albicans go wild. Thrush.

So I've tried pretty much everything to get rid of it:
-monistat
-diflucan (lots of it)
-vinegar rinses
-grapefruit seed extract
-garlic
-bleaching everything but the Pea
-changing nursing pads every other minute
-shirtless Thanksgiving '08
-cutting out sugar from my diet

and finally...
-gentian violet (hence the spawn of Pete Wentz above)

And I'm still losing the battle. And I've pretty much given up hope. My doctor, lactation consultant, and dermatologist have all given me the "awww shucks, this is beyond me" headscratch and don't know who to refer me to. The La Leche League friend that my sister introduced me to has been the only one who isn't shocked/disbelieving that the thrush is still hanging around, but I've now tried all of her treatment ideas to no avail. I'm even to the point that I question that it is thrush (although I don't know what else it could be). The Pea has never had any symptoms other than a slight diaper rash. I'm the only one who's symptomatic, and none of my treatment providers seem to give a hoot that it feels like I have knives lodged in my chest.

Oh, and I kind of want to simultaneously hug and punch Salma Hayek for this.

I Won, I Won, I Won, I Won, I Won

I won.

"Deranged" is in the Eye of the Beholder

So how much do I love these dueling celebrity mag sidebars? So fascinating from a psychological point-of-view. (Let me first say that the mags--Life & Style and In Touch Weekly--were found laying in the airport by my hubby, which says something about my secret shame of loving them that I touched and read them during cold & flu season.)

Also, I should add that I'm a Twilight fan (and secretly a 14 y/o girl).

Anyhoo!

It's the SAME picture. But I find it impossible to look at each picture without thinking, "Why, yes, he does look deranged," and "Hmmmm...yes, he is a sexy man." But if you cover up the captions, suddenly, he just looks bemused. And perhaps a little scared. Seriously, anyone who compares the screams of teenage girls to the "sound you hear at the gates of hell" is cool in my book.

And apparently, Angelina Jolie is pregnant again, officially making her the most fertile woman I've heard of in both the biobaby and adoption world.

And the Misnomer of the Year Award Goes To...

Lil' Pea = Not so Lil'. He shall henceforth just be known as "The Pea".

Yep, I pushed out just one oz. shy of a 10 pounder. And he's adorable. And sleeping well (errr...better). He's around 3 months old and cracking me up. He gave me his first belly laugh this morning, and it had me rolling. At first, I wasn't sure exactly what the child was doing...he sounded like a cross between Balki from Perfect Strangers and a baby bullfrog. It is delightful.

So, yes, I'm back to the blogworld (with a cute new template, might I add). I apologize for the weeping and gnashing of teeth that I'm sure was taking place during my hiatus.

Frenemy

So who knew that pregnancy was going to bring a new enemy/best friend into my life? And that frenemy is...food.

Let me preface by saying that food was never really something that I gave much thought to in my life before that second line appeared. I'm not trying to say that I didn't have my body image issues like any All-American Girl, but "food" was just not really something that I dwelled on throughout the day. Kind of like "House" on Fox. It's not really a T.V. series that I give much thought to, but if I'm in the mood to watch a show and I'm flipping through the channels when it's on, I'll stop and watch it.

I've gone through periods of my life where I feel guilt about not eating healthy foods, and I try to remedy the situation. But again, when it's not something that you particularly think about all that much, such intent focus tends to fall by the wayside rather rapidly.

Well, enter Lil' Pea stage left (a.k.a. the world's most beloved, adorable and efficient parasite). All of a sudden, food is an obsession. Am I eating the right amounts of protein? Too much fat? Too little fat? The right vitamins? Did I remember my prenatal vitamin? Am I gaining too much? Too little? When was the last time I ate? Do I need to have a little snack?

But here's what has contributed to the "frenemy" label: at any given moment, I feel simultaneously (to quote my mother) "stuffed to the gills" and "starved off the pockets". Like right now, my tummy is saying, "Oooh...I could go for some Sun Chips", but there's this other part of my tummy (the part that is pushing acid into my throat 24/7) that is saying "Hmmmm...if you eat one more bite, you will either explode or dissolve into a pool of stomach acid."

Adventures in Budgeting

I remember my mom and dad telling me stories growing up of when Dad was in med school and they were newlyweds and so poor that they had to take a clicker counter with them to the grocery store. Once they had clicked their quota of dollars, either stuff had to start going back on the shelves or they had to just stop shopping. It made an impression on me, and even though Bill and I have a more substantial budget than they did back in 1970, I felt the call of the clicker. I just felt like every time I went to Wal-Mart, I was playing Russian roulette at the checkout line...how much would it be? Would I hear the "click" of $57 or the "bang" of $190. And I've gotta tell you, when you get to choose between 2 clicks for Green Giant corn and 1 click for Great Value, it makes you really stop and think, "Hmmm...how many places can corn come from? Iowa or Iowa?"

Bill and I have read several personal finance books lately, and (a) it makes me want to write my own personal finance book and (b) it truly makes you stop and think about that can of corn. That 1 click in the IRA could be worth 100's in 30 years.

On a completely separate note, I give you...

Top 5 Reasons Why Rachel Ray Annoys the Snot out of Me:
5. That laugh...that laugh

4. The fact that her show is called "30 Minute Meals" and I have yet to see one recipe that I could prepare in less than an hour

3. The way that she squeezes lemons and tells you how to squeeze them. every. single. time.

2. The fact that she assumes that people have things like roasted red peppers, porcini mushrooms, and capers sitting around in their pantry

1. The number of times in any given episode that she refers to extra virgin olive oil as "EVOO" and the sheer number of recipes that she puts it in (i.e. everything)

And yet for some masochistic reason, I still watch her show occasionally. Well, I know the reason--her recipes aren't all horrible. Some are quite delish.


OH, and Lil' Pea update: It's a boy! And he's kicking up a storm. I felt it on the outside the other day. It was a like a scene from Star Trek.

There and Back Again

Well, I was in Arizona last week visiting my parents, and it was the most beautiful weather I've experienced in a long time. Cool in the mornings, warm in the afternoons (okay, some days, it was HOT), 0 humidity, wispy white clouds in the sky. Very nice. I approve of the desert. My parents are having a great time there. They got a Harley, claim that they are acclimated to the heat, and a new Target opened up in their town. What more can you want?

But seriously, it is hard having them on the other side of the country. And it's hard having Bill's family on the other other side of the country. I know that we both experience that feeling at the end of trips to visit our families (when we travel without each other) where it's like hitting a brick wall...I miss my spouse, I miss my dog, I miss my friends, but I also know that in just a few days, I'll be missing my parents, my sister (although my little sister is on the other other other side of the country so her visits will be taking place here for awhile especially with Lil' Pea in me).

So that's just lots of rambling to say that I miss my side of the family and Bill's side of the family, yet the air travel to get to said families has put a big X on any trips for the next year or so. It's hard enough taking a baby on a plane when it's inside you. Forget about it when the other passengers can hear the cries, smell the poops, and germs don't get filtered through my immune system first.

On a completely unrelated note, have you been to my sister Ellen's Etsy shop? So far, she is selling these adorable portraits for parents adopting from China, but there's a rumor (okay, I'm starting it, but I've already discussed this with her) that she'll be selling other children's portraits soon as well as little ornaments, her cartoons, and other fun stuff. And, yes, I still have plans to start up my own Etsy shop (I even have username set up). However, I'm just now getting over the nausea phase of pregnancy, so I'm just now feeling back to my self and creative. I'll keep you updated and even add "Etsy" as a blog post label. :)

Welcome to the Shire

Yes, pregnancy has turned me into a Hobbit, at least for the first trimester (which I recently said au revoir to and, to be honest, will not miss).

So, yeah, pretty much, right after breakfast, I'm like, "But what about 2nd breakfast? Elevensies? Lunch? Snack? Supper? Dinner?"

I don't know if I've ever blogged about this before, but Bill and I have decided that during pregnancy, the Puppy Rule is more important than ever. Basically, we both realized after about a year of marriage, that the way to keep me happiest was to think of my needs as a puppy's.

Karen is happiest when:
1. Fed
2. Well-Rested
3. Feeling safe
4. Being snuggled
5. Dry
6. Feeling loved
7. Warm

Typically, all or almost all of these conditions are being met. Occasionally, several of them aren't. I can only think of one time that every single condition was being broken at once. That was in New York around this time last year, when Bill and I were there over St. Patrick's Day. I shall not speak of that trip anymore other than to say that, at one point, it felt like someone had come and stepped on my tail.

Fast forward to now, I just have to say that I have the best husband in the world. He doesn't complain about the pillow fortress of solitude that I have set up in the bed, leaving him about 6 inches to sleep on. He, at one point, stopped at 2 separate fast-food restaurants on the way to church for me to get breakfast biscuits. He scooped all of Sunny's poo out of the yard for the past 2 months. He went to stay at my parents' when he came down with a cold recently to try to keep me from getting sick. He's just wonderful.

And this Hobbit/Puppy is very thankful for him.

It's been awhile...

Sorry for the blog silence. I've been in one of those periods of my life where I didn't really want to get on my blog and say, "Not much is up" (a blatant lie), but I wasn't quite ready to get on my blog and say,

"I AM PREGNANT!!!!" (a beautiful truth)

Yep. I've got a plum-sized little person in me. It's been a long, long road, but somehow, I have this gut-feeling that when we meet Lil' Pea in person, I'm going to say, "OH! That's what the wait was for. Thank you, God." I'm already convinced that he or she is the smartest, most fabulous, best embryo (almost a fetus!) ever. I wish I could just hook up an ultrasound machine in my living room and take a peek at him/her whenever I felt like it. :)


This picture is of the first pregnancy test that I took. It's uber-darker now.

And the World's Ugliest Turkey Award goes to...

me.

So I had some dear friends over on Monday: Jason and Jaime, Shelli and Justin, Meg and Chris, Dave and Sarah. And I was in charge of the turkey. One thing.

I roasted it upside down.

It tasted okay, but imagine this scenario:

Justin (kindly carving the turkey)--Hey, heh heh, this turkey doesn't seem to have too much meat on it.

Bill--Hmm, maybe that spot, or that spot.

Justin (beginning to sound really worried looking at the 2 cups total of turkey meat on the platter)--Umm, no, it really doesn't seem to have much meat on it.

Bill--What on earth? Karen?

Me--I bought a 20 pound Butterball! Oh, no, I bought a dud turkey!

Justin--No, wait. It's just upside down.

That's right. My mom forgot to mention that very key step...Make sure that the turkey is right side up. (But she and my friend Sara did a shout-out job of teaching me how to season and prepare it!)

At Sara's Request

I have been formally asked, on this blog and in person, to update my blog.

Here's the problem...not much to talk about. Things are going pretty well here. I visited my new nephew in Atlanta. He's stinkin' adorable, but he's developed some bad acid reflux, and my sister-in-law is at the end of her rope. Thankfully, my mom-in-law and Nana (well, Bill's Nana, but I claim her with full Nana status) are headed over to watch baby Myles tonight so Julie can head over to a friend's house to get some sleep overnight. I'm hope-hope-hoping that she gets a good, full night's sleep and every thing is a little bit better in the morning.

I am instigating a new meal-planning system for Bill and myself, complete with charts and recipes set out in advance and paying attention to (but not obsessing over) nutrition. It's a brave new world, but (a) both of our eating habits are not great and need to improve, (b) our grocery budget is ridiculously high and then I end up not making half the meals I had planned out so that needs to change, and finally (c) I've gotta get a handle on this before we start a family and things go really haywire. I'll never have more spare time and energy than I do right now. [Sorry for the world's longest run-on sentence, my grammar police friends].

Let's see...what else? Oh, I'm going to start selling these little wall plaques and door hangers that I've been making on etsy.com. It may not happen until after Christmas, but I'm very excited about it nonetheless. I'll keep my readership posted on that!

leapin' lizards!!

So I was on a walk the other day, and suddenly, I felt a bug (or so I thought) fly onto the back of my neck when I walked past a grove of trees. I grabbed said bug (or so I thought) and threw it on the ground. It was a big-feeling bug, and my first thought was "dragonfly??" so I looked on the ground. There sat a tiny, tiny lizard.

I checked to make sure he was not injured. He was not. He went on his merry way, and I went on mine.