The Moment.

I think that it is fair to say that at some time in most of our lives, the following sentence has escaped our lips...
"I will never act/say that like my mother".
As a teenager, you cling to that. I mean, who would want to act like a woman rocking a denim jumper with an apple/teddy bear/sunflower motif on the front and the surburban housewife helmet hair mold?
-- and for the record, the denim jumper was quite the rage in Kansas circa early 90's. I have pictures, not making it up --

And so you go on, vowing vehemently not to find yourself uttering the same phrases that routinely were heard as you went bounding out of the house.
And then, well --
There is this moment. I can't quite remember the first time, but it comes in short order. Sometime in your early 20's. The words come out, and like a bubble in a cartoon, you want to yank it back from reality. And you hear her voice in your head as you say the EXACT SAME THING that she did. Whatever the circumstance.
At that moment, you swear that is the only time it will happen.
And its totally self-delusional.

My big ones....
My mom always used to clean the house from top to bottom whenever my grandparents would come to visit. I never understood it. My thought was with 4 kids in the house, we lived in a state of clutter. Why hide the reality of the house on most days from your parents?
Yeah - right.
EVERY time people come to visit, I am a whirling dervish of cleanliness. And yes, my house on a normal day is full of clutter and more than a few dust bunnies.
The other one that used to kill me was her purse. She had the largest purse in the world. Hell, at one point she had a purse within her purse. And of course, she could never find a single thing in it, but she always had exactly what you needed in there.
And I have steadfastly held to my vow in that space. I am not going to carry a big "mom-bag".

What's that, the shadow of the crow that I am about to eat just flit across the screen??

Until recently.
Up to this point, we have had the diaper bag. And when needed, throw the wallet in and we are all set. But we have gotten beyond the pure diaper bag need. We really just need a diaper, some wipes and a toy or two... not the 8,000 things we have traditionally hiked all over with us. And this streamline need has me thinking, I don't need the whole diaper bag but, the purse I am currently carrying is too small for my stuff and a small load of Finn's stuff. So I have started looking at bigger bags.
You know the ones I am talking about - like you could fit Mary Kate AND Ashley Olson in the bag.
This is the moment my mom would be loving right now....
Like the "I told you so" moment would have been HUGE. The self gratification more rewarding than she could have imagined.
Now, I have not actually purchased said mom-bag. But it is on the horizon. There will come a day in the next few days in which you will feel a slight tremble in the cosmos -- and you will know that the deed is done. And at that point, I will have fully earned
my mom-card. Without question, my initiation into the club will have been completed. As long as I don't start rocking the mom jeans, I think I can still hold on to whatever vestiges of my former self that are still out there.
Here's hoping.

Now Listening:
To Finn bang toys....

Wedding Spectacular-Spectacular

Remember when you were like, 23/24 and EVERY weekend for the entire summer was spent at weddings. And odds were good, you were in one or four of them.
Yes - I remember it well. And there are still more than a few dresses hanging in the closet to remind me. And, no its not some 27 Dresses type thing -- There really is only like, 4 of em' in there.
Suffice it to say, I thought we were long past those days.
Not that I don't enjoy a good wedding -- or more importantly a good reception. But, I think we are pushing it this year.
I am a decade past the summer of 23 and all its Innocent, Martial bliss. So these days, its more like, 2 or 3 in a given year.
Until this summer/fall.
We had three this summer.
And kicking off last weekend......
One Friday -- AWESOME party Courtney & Rob
One Saturday - congrats to Tim & Emily.
We have one this weekend.
One the weekend of the 17th

--that makes 2 in Sept and 2 in Oct for those of you keeping score --
And then we hit the high mark -- 3 in November. Two of them destination, and 10 days apart. And I am in one, and Joe is in one.
And we just got a Save the Date for December.

That's 8 weddings between now and the holidays.
That boys and girls is a lot.
So our Saturday's for the next few months will consist of a few glasses of cheap red wine or keg beer, an over-cooked chicken breast or 4 -- and a few turns on the dance floor to either Wonderful Tonight or Wonderful World. With some Black Eyed Peas, I Gotta Feelin' kicked in for good up-tempo measure.
This is not complaining by any stretch of the imagination, just one of those -- holy cow sorta deals. I told Joe at some point we should try and plan a date night that doesn't include a wedding.
Novel idea.

Now Watching: The Colbert Report

Awareness

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Not to be Debbie Downer or anything, but sorta a big deal in the Smith household. For a lot of reasons. Its one of those things that is a little bit of a bitter pill. Part of me is always so proud and blown away by the courage of the survivors. And they should be celebrated. Part of me really struggles with why we had to be on the other end of it. What statistical, karmic influence decided my Mom was one of the ones that wasn't going to beat the odds? And why we still don't have an answer for something that plagues so many families.
Boo.

**dusts self off from moment of sadness**

That being said, we (my sisters and I) are very tuned in to what is going on in the world of research, prevention and care. For good reason. Its not just my Mom. My great-Aunt (maternal), my Aunt (paternal) and too many friends have fought the good fight as well. So we support things in whatever way we can. Which brings me to my advertising blog of the day.
Two events that need support. Both of them fun, a great time and the end result is money in the hands of the researchers and the organizations doing all they can to help care for those that can't afford it -- the whole national health care debate not withstanding. That would be a WHOLE separate post. Trust me.

So here they are in calendar order....


Ride for the Cure 2009
A spin-off of Komen's Race for the Cure this event takes me back to my rockin', motorcycle riding days. Oh how I miss them. Sturgis, leather, SeatCandy --- yep, it was a blast. That being said, this is an event for my more rebellious readers. Those who run with the wind if you will. And the really cool part of this, is a spin-off of the spin-off. The inaugural 2010 Young Riders Calendar.
The deal is you pay a small fee, and you take your kid in to get photographed. With the spin being rebel/motorcycle themed outfits, setting etc. Once they have all the pictures, there is going to be an online poll and the 12 winning photos make the 2010 calendar. With all proceeds -- you guessed it -- going to Komen. This is perfect for all my parents. If you are in the Des Moines area, consider it. I mean come on, how many of us out there don't want more pictures of our kids? Exactly. Crack the wallet open and get registered.


And the other big annual event is the actual 2009 Komen Race for the Cure here in Des Moines. I of course, have a team this year. But alas, it is not the Save Second Base of old. Nope, someone beat me to the punch and stole my team name.

Bastards.

So - we took things a new direction this year. With the creative juices of my good friend Liz G., we came up with
I Heart Boo Bees
And the following graphic to go along with it



So get registered already. And you can join my team if you want.
Go here: Komen Des Moines
Select the team, get your wallet and viola! You have joined the team. We are going to get t-shirts made with the above logo and of course, the usual breakfast back at the house on the day of the race. All in all, a good time and of course, the money going to a good cause.
Online registration ends on 10/02 so, get a registering...

Now Listening: to Finn bang toys together.

My Tween Vampire Crush.

Back from the right coast -- that's East coast for those of you not looking at a map. Or just unfamiliar with Meghan speak.
5 Whole days in Baltimore. Well -- not quite. 1 day for travel out and 1 day for travel back.
Some highlights - you mean I did things other than sitting in a conference room for 3 days, with the same 10 people talking about data models, data loads and ETL processes? Riveting as it may seem, yes we did other stuff.
The highlight of course was my dinner at Volt. I know I have mentioned on more than one occasion that we are sorta foodies at our place. Sort par for the course when one of you is a trained chef. This means we watch a lot of food shows. Top Chef having always been a fav. Seems this season of Top Chef has some crazy talent. Like James Beard winners and accolades like crazy. Additionally, this season seems to have culled talent from the Baltimore/DC areas only. I think like 4 or so of the chef-testants are from the area. Including one Bryan Voltaggio . He is one of the brothers that are competing this season. I think it is fair to say he is one of the early front-runners.
Weeeel - with a HUGE thanks to Heather & Sebastian -- we were able to score a reservation for dinner on Wednesday night. In the kitchen. It was a 5 course Prix Fixe Menu with wine pairings.
And it was
Ah-
May-
Zing -

No exaggeration needed, The menu was sublime. We had our choice of two tasting menus'. One "The Kitchen" and the other "The Garden". The differentiation was simple, one was all meat, the other all vegetables. I went with the meat but swapped my 4th course for the vegetable offering -- with the approval of our waiter. So I had --
Tuna Sashimi
Duck Foie Gras
Artic Char
Chickpea Gnocchi - this was my swap course. The others had Pork Belly
Filet Mignon
Dessert - it was this deconstructed Dulce de Leche -- a flan-like custard with a cinnamon tuille and dehydrated caramel. And it was fantastic.

Of course, all of this was started with a three amuse bouche
A Beet/Foie Gras gum-drop (my words, not theirs)
A gaspacho with cumin air
Avocado ice cream with salmon roe and basil

I think it is fair to say that it wasn't your run of the mill meal. Not to mention, we were in the kitchen so we got to see all the action. And I was personally served by the Chef twice
Yep - bragging.
I of course, didn't bring the camera, brought the cell phone and managed to snap a few pics of three of the courses. For whatever reason, cell phone pics can't be manipulated here, so I loaded them to the Flickr account -- check them out here. Keep in mind, cell phone and low light - but you get the idea, the plates were GORGEOUS.
And then we got to watch the weekly episode. That got cut short due to the fact that there were too many people there and we couldn't actually follow anything that was going on. But still, all in all -- an exceptional evening - both the food and the company.

The other highlight of my trip was an evening with Scott and Julie -
The menu that night
Antipasta plate
Peperoni Pizza
And it was lovely
But more importantly, got to just chill with them - catch up and hang with one very precocious 21 month old - Ms. SamKat herself.
She kills me. If she doesn't like something, she says "No Thank You"
At one point, I was sitting in "her" chair. And she comes up to me and says "Excuse Me, No Thank You"
Translation: Listen Lady, get the hell outta my chair.
I cracked up. Suffice it to say, she is polite, cute as hell and a handful. But was just thrilled to just spend a few hours with them. Don't see them nearly enough - so I take what I can get.
Oh, and work -- we got some stuff done.

And my last little update -- I am a reader. I think I have shared that with you in the past. Well, plane trips are just the perfect vehicle for easy reads. And last time I was out East, I was lamenting the fact that I had finished the book that I had brought along. Julie says to me - Have you read any of the "Twilight" series. I of course, say no. I had promised not to get sucked (pun not intended) into another series. I already had Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings, The whole Anne Rice series -- so No -- didn't need another series, and didn't need MORE vampire lore.
But she persisted. Its an easy read, take it here -- and shoves her copy of Twilight into my hands. And so I read it. In one day one the way back to Des Moines, Yep - easy read. And while I was curious as to how the other stories moved forward, I was able to move on. Until yesterday. Again, I had finished the book I brought with me and was in need of another. And there I was, at the gate at BWI and wandered over to the Hudson News. And wondering, what should I get? The new Ted Kennedy? The new Dan Brown? Nope. Those were all hardback. Too expensive. So I hit the best sellers section in paperback. A Nicholas Sparks chick-book? Not my style. Jodi Picoult? Couldn't handle another mom/family drama that would make me cry. And then my eye fell down a row. There it was - tempting me. New Moon. My immediate thought was no. And then I looked over the rest of the offerings. And came back to it.
Shit.
I was going to have to get it. And as added bonus, I got a poster with a picture from the up-and-coming movie. Which if is anything like the first movie - will be terrible. Or so I am told. So, I have a poster of Bella and Jake with the looming eyes of Edward to put up in my room and crush on. Joe will just have to deal.
So now I am on this crazy pop-culture path. Tween romance between a human and a vampire. Yep -- got sucked in (pun intended) and can't let go. So much so that when I got home and got Finn to bed, did I queue up a weeks worth of season premieres to watch? Nope. Finished the damn book.
Stoopid vampires.
Two more trips out East and I will have the whole series knocked out.

On a high note - after the whole cable saga - we finally got our cable via DirectTV. However, we were still down in the internet category. Which is very trying to me. But this morning, on a whim, kicked on the laptop and VIOLA! Wi-fi.
So thank you neighbor whomever you are that is currently allowing me to surf at will. I know, I know -- shouldn't steal internet. And its not secure -- but I needed a few minutes online to get the fix.

Now Listening: The Loft - the XM station on the DirectTV.

Who did I piss off now?

They say that good things come in threes.
What about bad things?
I think I am **this close** to wrapping up the techie-trifecta of doom.
So last week it was the cell phone.
Combined with the lack of Internet access at the house.
As I type, still no Internet and slowly getting all the contacts re-established in the phone.

And then .....

And then my leftover pregnancy brain kicked in. Or perhaps it was the brain cells that I have killed over the years with one to many shots.
I left my iPod on the plane.
Yep - the iPod that I always carry in my purse.
The iPod that I listen to in my car
The iPod that I fall asleep to.
That I work out to.
That I shower to -- ok that one is stretching it, but you get the idea.
I really love my iPod.
Now, I have to jump through the hoops of United Airlines to see if maybe, JUST MAYBE I can recover it.
Not gonna hold my breathe on that one.

Now all I need is for my computer to shit itself when I get home and we will be all set. And of course, the answer is, well you back up your music don't you.
Of course, but still. That one was a gift.
And well, its the principal.
Not to mention, I had to find a way to make it through the whole hour and half flight to Baltimore without it.
Not cool. Not cool at all.
So, on top of leaving the boys at home, and fresh off the insult of losing EVERYTHING (photos, videos, etc) on the old phone -- I am now without tunes.
I have seemingly pissed off the tech gods. Might be time to dig up some of those old floppy disks and offer them up the The Might Binary Deity. Or whatever anomaly in the Matrix I have upset.
Blech.

Now Listening: Well certainly not any music - MNF on the big flat screen in my hotel room.

The week in review

I know, I know – you all are probably going into some sort of shock at this point due to the fact that I am actually posting more than once in a given month. Or a given 2 months for that matter. But fear not intrepid reader, I have re-committed myself to all things blog-tastic and so on we go….

My first thought, why are short weeks always the longest weeks? With Monday being the holiday it just sorta set the whole thing off-kilter a little bit. Didn’t help that I didn’t get nearly as much done on Monday as I wanted to.

You see, as I mentioned we have begun operation Downgrade to Upgrade. So while some would argue that our new place is still a good size place, it is in fact smaller than what we had. By a considerable amount. And in all fairness, the house we were in was pretty effin’ ginourmous for a family of 3. So we have thrown away (2 trips to the city dump). We have Salvo’d – I am sure the many t-shirts we gave away will find a good home. And thrown away more. And yet, my house is still a cluster of the few remaining boxes we are not sure what to do with, more t-shirts and assorted crap than I thought two people could reasonably accumulate in a 12 month time span. Like I think the crap has spawned mini-crap. T-shirts are giving birth to other shirts I have NEVER seen before. How does this happen? Still noodling over that one – not sure I will come to any surefire conclusions on that one. However, once that all gets settled we will move on to Operation Family Budget -- now THAT should be a riot. Details later on that one.

Technology 101
I think it is fair to say that I am a little bit of a techie geek. I don’t necessarily have all the gadgets, etc but I do in fact envy those that do. One area that I have always been willing to spend a little extra on is my cell phone.

We don’t have a home phone – got rid of that years ago when it became readily apparent that only telemarketers called it. And I have had a pretty nice phone for the last year plus, but I have really been craving that new Palm Pre. My sister got one right when they came out and I am more than a little jealous. Silly really to crave after something as trivial as a phone, but little materialistic ole’ me can’t help herself.

Last Friday night, my phone sorta stopped working. And by sorta, I mean it stopped working. The screen just went *poof* and that was that. Saturday morning then had me high-tailing it to the cell phone store to figure it all out. Had to get the insurance claim filed for the old phone. They gave me a temporary phone (circa 1998 or something) to use in the iterim and off we went. Now – keep in mind I had no contacts in the temp phone and I was going from a full QWERTY keypad back to the T9 type keypad. And I am a texter – so this hurt. And no, I am not some 12 year old that sends like 5,000 messages a month or anything, but I do a fair share. Probably more than a fair share. Suffice it to say, it set me back a little bit. New phone arrived on Tuesday, so I spent Wednesday at the cell phone store AGAIN to get the loaner phone returned (so long 1998) and get my contacts moved from old broken phone to new shiny next-generation version of same phone.
With one teeny-weeny little snafu.
Seems they couldn’t pull my contacts off the old phone. Says helpful cell-phone sales person, “well you can just pull them off your PC, You do sync your phone with your PC don’t you?” And as he is saying this the self-righteous, I-told-you-so look is starting to permeate his visage.
Me: “Erm, no.”
Queue the angel of death, the knells of the final bells and enter the grim reaper.
You guessed it boys and girls – no contacts for Meghan. And we are talking like, 1.5 years worth of numbers. And I know I am prone to exaggeration, but I am thinking easily 200+ numbers. I don’t even know my Dad’s cell phone number for Pete’s sake. That’s how dependent I have become on my contact list. Of course, I got equally self-righteous back .
Me: “Well, if you offered online back up like other providers did, this wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe I should look into another service provider” The guy just looks at me and with total confidence informs me that no provider can back up smart phones. You have to sync them to a PC. Now this may or may not be true, but he was convincing. I wasn’t however convinced that there was NO way to pull those contacts off the phone, so I went to another store and asked them the same thing. The tech there proceeded to Frankenstein my phone into like, 8 pieces and rebuild it with like 16 parts of other phones and alas – we reached the same end result.

The phone wasn’t mostly dead, wasn’t in Davy Jones locker, wasn’t in limbo or any other purgatory like ethereal plane. This baby was D-E-A-D. Full stop. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

The moral of this story boys and girls, is back your shit up. Not in a back that ass up sorta way, nope – get the contacts on a computer, iPod, something, anything that will prevent you from having to send out the “I’m an idiot” email to your entire inbox.

Little Leprechaun Update: He is awesome. Really. Cute as hell. Funny as all get out – and we totally dig him. I should have a link to some new 6 month pictures here shortly. I think they might get me nominated for Mom of the Year or something, stay tuned.

And for your Debbie Downer portion of your programming…
Tuesday marked the 2 year anniversary of my mom’s death. Which is crazy for any number of reasons. I expect there will come a time when it isn’t such a HUGE deal and starts to become another day. Or maybe not. I can still remember every detail of that day. And at the same time sometimes it seems like it was SO long ago. I have said this before, its never the big things that trigger the sadness. Its always the little one. Big days like Christmas, Mothers Day, Tuesday… you are sorta prepping yourself in advance for those. So you manage to insulate a little bit. It doesn’t make them any easier – but I remind myself that in fact the world has continued to revolve. There are good (or great) things in my life and in fact, life does go on. But you still are a little sad, and more than a little glad when the day is over. Thanks to Beth for the offering of ice cream and wine to help the night along. And Joe for just being Joe. Also got the nicest note from Joe’s dad. I have to say, for as sad as it is – you have to celebrate the amazing people that are still in your life and that support us every day. We would be nowhere without them. And I can still hear my mom’s voice telling me to make the most of it and live my life. I still miss her. Every day. Not sure that will ever get any easier.
Deep, cleansing breath
Moving on. I think that about gets us current on this Friday afternoon. I am off to the East coast next week for work. Boys will be running solo, so stop on by and say Hi if you are so inclined. I am sure Joe will want the company. And now I have to go. Its food day at the office and its easily been 30 minutes since I have taken a lap around the buffet offerings.
Now Listening: To my iPod on shuffle – moving to Big Head Todd & The Monsters

Bass-Ackwards

Hello out there intrepid reader. I know, I know. Its been WAAAY too long since I have posted. And what you ask, has kept me from the keyboard and any relevant updates on this redheads world?

Trading gossip quips with Perez Hilton?
Snark-fest 09’ with Chelsea Lately?
Pilgrimage to LA for MJ’s funeral?
Lounging on the tropical shores of Ibiza with a cocktail in one hand and an attentive pool boy massaging the other one?

Nope – dear reader (or whomever of you out there just might stumble across this post), I have spent the summer in the hum-drum Midwest – nary an ocean or pool boy in sight. Hardly even a big puddle. And what has filled my halcyon summer days here in fly-over country? Work, work, kid, work, the occasional wedding and more work and kid. Yes, the mighty have fallen and they have fallen hard. I have managed an occasional night out or on the porch with a bottle of my favorite grape juice in hand. The only problem with those nights stems from parental rule #82(d) – you can go to bed at 9:30 PM , the kid gets up at 6:30 AM. You can go to bed at 11:15 PM, the kids gets up at 6:30 AM. You can go to bed at 3:00 AM because well, you really needed that 5th bottle of wine and you haven’t looked that sexy in a really long time and – you guessed it – kid doesn’t give a rats ass how sexy you thought you looked at 2:45 AM and gets up at 6:30 AM. This means that the evening out theory has shifted just a smidge. This is not a bad thing in and of itself, just another in the multitude of adjustments a mini-me brings to the table.

So what else is new in my little corner of the world? Well, I have come to the conclusion that when it comes to major life events, we (Joe & I collectively) do things backwards. Like, Bass-Ackwards. I believe there is a somewhat agreed upon order in which your average adult does things. It goes something roughly like this

You meet.
You date.
You fall in love.
You get engaged.
You get married.
You move in together.
You spend a few years in wedded bliss.
You get in a family way
You buy a big house and live happily ever after.

I think you can probably move the “move-in together” portion of programming up a few rungs depending on the situation, but all in all that is how its suppose to be. According to whatever ruling body is in charge of these types of things.

Here is how we do it….
You meet.
You don’t date for like 8 months, you just dance around it.
You finally start “dating” after a serious make out session at a friends after-hours party.
You date for about 7 months officially.
You break up.
You keep seeing each other for oh, a year or so. Even though you are not together.
You discover one day that you are pregnant.
You then decide to move into together.
You have a kid.
You then decide that you moved into a house that was way too big for you at this point.
You downsize so at some point you can buy a house.
You set up savings to buy a house.
And that is as far as we have gotten.

So somewhere in there we will buy the house, oh and we might get married. Eventually. You see where I am going with this? Ass-backwards. It’s like we take all the things in the first list, threw them into a hat and then just pick them out at random. But dammit, we are going to get our happily ever after, just in a round-about sorta way. Details right? Just goes to prove, the best laid plans….

In the little leprechaun department, we are getting really big (7 months) have 2 teeth, sit up on our own, crawl/lunge after anything resembling electronics (the remote, the cell phone) and have plenty of personality to go with all that. Still not sleeping through the night. Not sure we are ever gonna get that one in check. And its not that he is up all night just screaming his head off. No, he is just up. Chatting to whomever will listen and wanting to play. Yep – play. At 3 AM. Its one of those falsehoods of parenting. They make that first few months just sound awful and then there is supposed to be this mystical, magical point when **poof** it all just comes together and the family is smiley and full of well-rested goodness.

Reality check: not so much. You get over the newborn stage and then you hit a growth spurt or two, then the teething kicks in, then another growth spurt. Have I convinced you all to go out and have like, 5 kids yet? Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I really don’t remember much of my life before he came along. Seems like I was doing things that I thought at the time were important, but realize now not so much. That’s not to say I wouldn’t love a crazy night out and more importantly the ability to sleep in the next day, but the parenting gig is pretty freakin’ awesome.

So there it is. My first foray back into the blog-sphere. Wasn't that painful at all. Just like ripping that band-aid off. Just gotta do it. Here's hoping there are a few of you out there still reading. I am gonna keep writing.

Now Listening: Vol I by She&Him

Fathers Day 101

Make sure you get the gifts ordered on time from the online store.
Make sure you get cards ahead of time to have a remote chance at one that isn't either DUMB or too sappy.
Don't forget gift wrap for the ONE gift you did manage to get ahead of time.

These are a few of the things that I learned this weekend. We had a really great time. I will get the pictures downloaded sometime this week. I will say this though...
It was HOT
As HELL
HOT, HOT and HOT
Oh, and thank goodness we managed to get seats in the shade. Joe had a blast, even though the Royals lost. We saw Pujols hit a grand slam and ANOTHER home run before I left at the 7th inning.
Finn hung in there all things considered. It was, as I mentioned, HOT. But it was the noise of all the people that caused more issue than anything.
All in all a great first fathers day weekend.
Oh -- and one other thing that I learned (re-confirmed?) -- they say you should dress age appropriately. Which for the most part, I agree with. But I have never heard anyone say you should hair style age-appropriate.
But you should. Trust me. If you are 50+ years old, pig tails should be off limits.
Always.

Now Listening: To Finn scream. Good times.

I am alive

Its true.
Alive and well. Well, depends on your definition of well.
We have been all over the map and back in the last, oh shit -- month since I have posted.
That is the first time I have actually looked at the last post date. I keep telling myself I need to update the blog.
My intentions dear reader ( I dare not assume that there are multiples of you still out there) are sincere.
Its just the falling asleep watching the Daily Show every night should give you some sense of where my priorities are lying these days.
Lets see. Of course, we have pictures of the little dude. See the Flickr site for updates. We went to a wedding over Memorial Day weekend in Chicago. Had a great time. Finn got into a pool for the first time. I think he did ok. However, it was indoors but not heated, so he only lasted about 5 minutes in the water with Dad. But he did well. We did manage to get a little partying in during the reception. Big thanks to Grandpa and Grandma for taking the little dude off our hands for a few hours of baby-free adult time.
Hell, I even went to after-hours in one of the rooms. Do you have ANY idea how long its been since I did that? Or woke up the next morning in a bit of a haze. Sat up, thought about it. And decided that in fact, I DID have a headache and it was brought on from the booze the night before.
Yep - got a little bit of my big girl pants back.
Woot woot.

Also had to go out East for a few days for work. It was both slightly traumatic and totally welcome. Leaving the boys for 4 days was not my idea, but once I got out there a few things caused the a-ha moment.
--I got to sleep all night through (minus one alarm a night for some mom-cow duties)
--I got to sleep all night in a KING bed by myself.
--I got to go out for drinks after work with friends and didn't have to worry about just having one or getting home or anything for that matter.
Upon reading those, it dawns on me that in fact, I am really lame. I say this because I was excited about each of those things. In a big way.
Sad. The whole trip was of course made more traumatic due to the aforementioned mom-cowness. I wasn't about to stop breastfeeding for a business trip, so I told them I would only be able to go if I was ok to get all the milk back. 4 days of liquid gold doesn't go wasted in my book. I sent smoke signals out to all my moms--in-the-know -- with the no-liquid ban in place at airports, could I travel with my pump? Could I bring it back in my checked luggage? And my moms in the know came back in fine style. See they have this thing called the Internet, so my ever judicious, intelligent Julie looked up on TSA's website to see what the scoop was...

And here is what it said:

Now, a mother flying without her child will be able to bring breast milk through
the checkpoint, provided it is declared prior to screening.

I thinks to meself, good work on ya'. All set to go. Except that the general TSA guidelines didn't include Captain American TSA Agent at the DSM Airport. Yes, the Des Moines Airport. Not O'Hare, not Baltimore - little 3rd Tier Des Moines. So I get to the airport at 7 Am for my 8 AM flight. Had just fed Finn right before I got dropped off. Checked in. Paid my extra $$ to check my luggage (the whole flying as a convenience rant will come later) and head towards security. Take off my shoes, pull the laptop from the carrying case and drop the pump through the machine. I see the belt stop. reverse and I can tell they are looking at something. So I say, its a breast pump. Enter Captain America. He starts pulling stuff out of the bag and I say again -- its a breast pump. Keep in mind, I don't actually have any LIQUID in the damn thing at this point. And its the LIQUID that is the banned substance. So he digs around and pulls out the thermal container with the icepack and the empty bottles. He says to me "where is the infant?" I respond with a "no baby, its a business trip. But I checked your website and it said I could travel without the infant as long as I declared the milk". And then he says to me, "the bottles are empty" No shit sherlock, I haven't actually pumped anything yet as its 7:10 in the morning. And then he tells me that its not the bottles (shocker -- again EMPTY), its the icepack. He goes on to say that minus any milk to keep cold, he can't justify the ice pack. So he says "I'm going to have to throw this away" Whoa. Throw on the breaks there Mr I-Would-Waterboard-A-Terrorist-With-Your-Breast-Milk-If-There-Was-Any-In-The-Bottles. See, that icepack came with the pump. Its hard plastic, designed to fit the insulated case and the 4 bottles, so you aren’t throwing crap away. Unless you are gonna pony up the $300 for a new pump. So as the thought of just whipping out a boob and squirting him in the eye with milk floated through my head, I ask – “Not going to throw it away. What are my options?” He goes on the explain that he needs milk in the bottles. Which leaves me with one option; Pump away. He then escorts me back through the security line and tells me when I come back through to pull all the individual components out for the x-ray machine and that I will be subject to a full search. At this point let me remind you of a few things:
1. I did exactly what their own website said – declared the milk (or lack thereof)
2. Its 7:10 AM and I have JUST fed my kid. For those of you not familiar with ins and outs of milk production, you normally have to wait a little bit –at least an hour in my case – to fill the coffers back up so to speak.
3. I haven’t had a DROP of caffeine because I can’t bring any freakin’ liquids through the security check.
All this makes for one very not happy Meghan. So I go trotting off to the bathroom to pump, because the DSM Airport was built in like, 1963 and the concept of a nursing room is way outta their league. Get to the bathroom and discover what was nagging me from the minute I left the security area. There is no plug anywhere with a modicum of privacy. Don’t get me wrong. I feed Finn in public. But when you do that the kid provides a decent amount of coverage. And he works one side at a time. When you pump – well, I am not exaggerating too much when I say Mom-cow. Think waaay scaled down version of a milking machine. Both at once. And you see why you want a door or something. So I go to the bookstore and pay like $30 for some batteries. And go back and get to work. And only churn out like, 2 oz of the goods. As I am packing everything back up, I am thinking to myself, if he says ANYTHING about the amount, I will in fact go totally postal on him. So I head back up and in the course of everything, Captain America’s line had closed. I then got into the other line. Pulled everything out as instructed and waited for them to grab me for the additional screening. As it is all coming out of the x-ray machine, the woman comes around from the screen and I am like, ok – be patient and nice. And she says to me – “You know, you don’t have to pull all that stuff out of the bag. I know some people get sensitive about the breast milk.” At this point, I about hit the roof. No hassle, no impending doom. Just trying to be nice to a nursing mother. I then – rather curtly – say “Can you PLEASE share that with that guy?” And point out Captain America wasting our tax dollars on his coffee break over near the other now-closed line. She sorta apologized and I went on my way.
UGH and UGH. Morale of the Story: Always look for the woman security checker at any 3rd Tier Market airport you might be traveling to. Oh – and pour some milk (of any variety) into your bottles if you are breastfeeding and flying.
The rest of the trip was singularly uneventful. I returned home and both Joe and Finn were still in good shape. I will say, I was really glad to be gone for a few days, but I was totally ready to come home.
What for else has been happening here in the land of milk and honey? Got another year older.
Boo on that. Well, not really boo. Just sorta – meh. We are heading down to KC this weekend for Fathers Day. Gonna go see a baseball game and do some BBQ’ing with both families. Really excited about that. Of course, now I have to get many Father’s Day gifts. My dad, Joe, Joe’s Dad – my Fathers Day budget just tripled. Oh well, its all for a good reason.

Work is currently HIGH stress. Not the actual work itself. While I was out on my trip to Baltimore, I got a call from our Director informing us that the contract that currently funds oh, 99.8% of my work was being cut by 30% across the board. There were immediate lay-offs and more are in the works. So everyone around here is super tense, not knowing if they are going to lose their job and taking lots of sick days all the sudden. Makes for a real stress-free work place.
Or not.

Now Listening: A New Day at Midnight by David Gray

The mid-month catch up

Its becoming a familiar refrain.
Mea culpea that is.
The other is "I've been meaning to update the blog but I got busy, tired, occupied, busy, tired.. you get the idea.
So here I am, typing away vigorously to get out of my head the many things that I need to share with you the few faithful that check this thing on occasion -- and yes, you know who you are.
Bitch please.
That's for Courtney.



Prior to rambling mode, we will enter update mode and get you all up to speed on Meghan's life of late. Because really, who needs reality programming when you can read all about the comings and goings of some middle class, white woman in Iowa and her band of merry men -- that being Joe and Finn of course.
So flash back about two weeks.
We did in fact get Finn baptized. And I am pleased to report that it was a success. As indicated by the fact that I am here to report it and didn't get struck by lightening during the ceremony. We had a TON of people that came out, over, down and up for the big to-do, and Joe and I were thrilled.
Here is a picture of the little leprechaun in his christening gown.



A few things on this topic to discuss. Yes, that's Joe holding him. He finally got rid of the Chester the Molester, circa 1970's stache' he had been rocking for some time now. The gown itself belonged to my grandmother and all of her kids (my mother included) wore it. Unbeknownst to me, at least when we started down this path was that we -- my sisters and brother -- also wore it. No, see I figured that we had a gown and it was in our house somewhere. So I sent my sister on a mission to find it. And it had us collectively banging our heads against the wall since we couldn't find it and we all know that my mother never threw anything away. In a conversation with my Aunt, we finally connected all the dots. So here he was, in a 90-some-odd year-old family gown that I was for sure wouldn't fit but we made it work.
Now for the next question on this topic -- what is it with guys that causes them to freak out about the idea of a gown on their son? To wit, he wore it for , oh, about 15 minutes total. It was worn over his clothes and is a CEREMONIAL GOWN. Its not like I am sending him to day care in the darn thing. But we still had to convince Joe that it was ok. Stupid masculine ego. Its apparently a delicate thing.
So long story short, our little heathen is heathen no more. Big thanks to my dear friend Julie who left her little girl for a whirl-wind weekend in Des Moines. Meant the world to have her here, even if it was an uber-short visit.
We followed up the ceremony with a get together back at the house. Which translated into WAY too much food, a TON of people and little munchkins all over the place.
We had a great time and it meant the world to us to have all our friends and family there to celebrate with us. Tons o' pictures out on the Flickr site if you care to browse.
The following weekend was Mother's Day.
I am not sure I am ever going to be totally down with this day. Celebrating Mother's day without your mom pretty much sucks. And while the things that were done for me were lovely, its just a bittersweet day. Not sure much will ever change that. But I got flowers and a great gift from my boys.
The other bitter pill I learned to swallow was a developmental one. Last Tuesday, I went to pick up Finn and his teacher informs me that he had a "big day". He rolled over. Not once, but twice in her presence. This bummed me out. Of course, I got home, told Joe, and promptly placed him on his stomach waiting for the big event to repeat itself.
My stubborn child is not a trained monkey.
And no matter the cajoling, the tempting, or encouraging, he wasn't going to perform.
I then decided, until I see it...it didn't happen. Isn't going in the baby book, so there.

In other updates, I hate shopping. And not just for me this time. We went out on Saturday to track down an outfit for Finn for this wedding that we are going to this weekend. Its in Chicago and Joe is actually in the wedding, so we wanted something nice.
Forget about it. If he was a girl, I could buy 3 dresses for every day of the week. Boys, no luck. Adding to the dilemma, its getting to spring/summer. So what pseudo-dressed up stuff they had, well they were shorts.
And yes, I could have found something for him, but I refuse to spend $50 on an outfit that he will wear once MAYBE twice.
So after being annoyed and not one, but 3 different kids stores this weekend, I went looking for a dress for me.
Here is the scoop, as I said, Joe is in the wedding, so he will be in a tux. This alone is reason to look nice. 2) I haven't met a good portion of the friends that will be there. Thus, I am sure someone is thinking, who is this skeezy baby-momma he is bringing with him? I say this because if it was one of my guy friends, that is the approach I would take. And three, its a wedding. You dress appropriately for them. Few things are more annoying than people that do not dress to the occasion.
All those things in play, I went looking for an dress. Not for lack of dresses in my closet. But for lack of dresses that fit the post-baby body that I am currently living in.
And in a familiar vein, I will caveat this. I am only 3 lbs off my pre-pregnancy weight. That weight wasn't fantastic by any means. However, the way I am carrying it had me trying on dresses that were 3 sizes larger than I normally wear JUST TO FIT MY BOOBS.
So they would fit there, and then yards of fabric would envelope me.
Its great for the ego.
No really. Just went you think, hm - -maybe I don't look too bad. You have a run in with a changing room that sends you off the deep end. Or at least in search of chocolate. Because nothing makes a bad shopping trip better like high-calorie, pure fat snacking like say, a Snickers.
Let's hear it for the healing power of empty calories.
So I am going to give it another go tomorrow and hope that I can find a dress that will contain Mt Killamanjaro and its twin, Mt. KillaMyselfEsteem.
Keep your fingers crossed.

And the last sorta morose thing to report of the night...
I have been working on a nightly routine with Finn. It seems to be working so far. But every night I read to him. Just those little board books, but I have always been a reader and I think books are important, so we read.
Tonight I read him "Guess How Much I Love You" which ends with the old adage, I love you to the moon and back.
Very sweet little story, perfect for a nighttime read to the little leprechaun.
Except it made me sad. See my mom and my sister used to do something like that and it just made me miss her.
Alot.
It still amazes me how its little things that will catch you off guard.
Its just really shitty to have this amazing thing in your life, a child. And not be able to share it with the one person that really wanted nothing more than to see you have kids of your own.
And there are those that will tell me, she is watching and knows what is going on.
Maybe.
Its a nice thought.
But it doesn't change the fact that she isn't here.

Pity party for one,
Ah, yes -- we have your table ready.

Ok, enough of that ickiness.
Now I am going to pick myself up, dust off the layer of gloom and doom and go watch American Idol.
Man, can I switch gears in a heartbeat or what?

The final nail on the coffin

I should have a ton to tell you about.
And I do, but I have to share this with you right now.

I just got an email from one of our admin's and it is discussing our "TPS Reports"
No irony.
No sarcasm.
Just earnest, legitimate intent.

I am officially working in "Office Space" - except its real life.

Now Listening: To my phone ring. I should answer it.

Rumble, rumble

Hello?
"Hello Back"
the vast emptiness of the Ethernet responds.
Yes, its true boys and girls. When one has a blog, it is considered in good manners to post on said blog.
Thus, I throw myself at the mercy of the one or two of you that still check this thing for posts and will hardily resume my rambling ways.

It would seem that the ensuing lapse of time since last we visited would have me with many, many stories to fill the gap.
Alas, that is not to be the case.
Not that things haven't been afoot.
We have showered -- both in the party and literal sense. Congrats to Annie on her upcoming nuptials and we gave mom-to-be Lisa a good few carloads of baby gear to prep her for the arrival of her little girl.
We have celebrated Finn's 3 month birthday.
We have worked. And gotten really annoyed with work process. Creating documents to say that we don't need documents seems a little, what's the word? -- oh yeah -- STUPID and WASTE OF MY TIME.
We have decided that our house will probably never really be clean again. And we are learning to live with that decision.

But there are two things that have caught my attention in the last few days that I feel the need to share.
One happened just last night.
Did you feel the cosmos tremble a little bit? No, really? Not even a little nudge?
Well you should have.
Last night. I get home with the little leprechaun in tow. Drop the 80 metric tons of shit that come with me and him (again figurative and in some cases -- literal) and say Hi to Joe. We small talked, blah, blah and then he says...
Drumroll please...
"Hey, do you mind if I meet my brother out and we watch some of the baseball game tonight?"
I will grant you, just reading that sentence in and of itself, nothing special. A seemingly simple question with what I am sure should be a simple answer.
What rocked my world, and the aforementioned cosmos was that he ASKED in the first place.
Refrains of "He can be taught" went bouncing around ye olde' noggin.
Don't get me wrong -- I am totally for guy time. Mainly as I am totally for girl time and without one -- you don't get the other.
Nor do I consider myself lord and master over the house and all who inhabit it.
But lets just say that the road to asking rather than just doing, assuming or what ever other "ing" is relevant, has been long, bumpy and more than a little rough in spots.
It was a milestone in my world. One that I hope to repeat often.
For the record, of course I was like -- knock it out of the park. Have fun. Thanks for asking.
See - I can play nice on the playground when needed.

Tonight should be another doozie of an evening.
See, we are getting Finn baptized this weekend.
Yes - our little heathen, bastard child is getting right with God.
I kid of course -- but we are going through with it. Its the right thing to do and keeps grandparents really happy.
Tonight we are meeting with the deacon that will perform the ceremony. Seems the parish priest doesn't do them anymore.
Fine, cool. Moving on.
Well, I just know that at some point along the way, the whole marriage -- or lack thereof -- will come up. Should be a good time.
This also means that our house needs to get rocked in a cleaning-up, we have 30 people coming over Sunday sort of way. Keep your fingers crossed that I actually manage to pull this off.
Alrighty then.

That should get us somewhat up to speed. At least I hope.
Out.

Now Listening: Let It Die by Feist

The modern mom

Finally a quiz I can get behind.
Not that I really want to know the answer, and this isn't a Facebook quiz to tell me what "Sex in the City" character you are - Miranda, for the record.
Nope - this one is a in-your-face indictment of your time management and your priorities. Or what you think your priorities are (should be?)
Take the quiz here
And here are my results.

I don't drive as much as the average person. Shocker. I live in Des Moines, IA -- not Chicago. And I have a reverse commute. So its not bad at all. I don't sleep as much and I spend more time with my kid. Chalk those two up to the fact that I have a 2.5 month old that requires a little more time with mom -- do I hear Mom-cow??
And sadly, like most of my fellow quizzers, most of my time goes to work.
Blech.
Of course, the lack of time spent on household chores might explain the current clutter-filled, dust-bunny laden state of my home. Which at this point, I would spend some serious cash to have someone come clean top to bottom. However, that is off the possibility list until I get a feel for what daycare is going to do to the monthly budget. Although, I can surmise what it will probably do and that can be captured in one word: OUCH.
So until then, I will run a Swiffer every now and then, keep pulling laundry out of the laundry basket -- clean mind you but not put away, occasionally run the vaccum to get the heavy cat hair off the carpet and the couches and try to load/unload the dishwasher.
Ah, the perils of the modern woman. Dodging dust-bunnies, while texting and getting work emails on the smartphone, kid on one hip and trying like hell to keep the eyeliner from smudging. It's the picture of togetherness that I always envisioned.

Now Listening: 9 by Damien Rice

The view from here....

I don't make a habit of looking back. It tends to muddy waters that have already been sufficiently muddied. And, that whole 20/20 vision in the rear view mirror thing.
But today, did cause me a moment of pause.
And for the record, I really don't make a habit of looking back on tax day. That is often a very painful recollection. At least for the last few years.
No - today marks the two year anniversary of when Joe and I broke up.
It is also his birthday.
Its the whole breaking up with someone on their birthday that tends to stick in ones mind.
I think its fair to say that the ensuing two years have brought about some rather unexpected outcomes.
We are now living together, raising a child and in a scarily good place.
Fate has a sick sense of humor. I have learned that railing against the cosmos is probably not the best approach. As just when you think you have the fates beat, they throw the curve ball. And its never the same pitch twice.
I will offer this up on this rather reflective day of mine.
While the road to this point has been bumpy to say the least, more than a little sad and a learning process along the way.... I can honestly look at my life, right now, today and be totally content with it.
I mean, yes -- I would like a few more $$ in the savings account, to lose 15 lbs and eliminate stupid drivers from the road -- but on the big things -- its amazing.
I am surrounded by friends that love us. Even if I don't see them nearly as much as I would like.
I have a beautiful little boy who after a mere two months, I cannot fathom not having around. A boyfriend that has made a lifetime of change in a few short months. And who starts this next year of his life with a whole new perspective on life
And a family that supports us every step of the way.
That kids, ain't too bad for a Wednesday.

Now Listening: Rockferry by Duffy

Weekend Update

Happy Belated Easter to everyone.
Yes, like all the other C & E Catholics, we went and got our God on yesterday. That's Christmas and Easter Catholics for those of you not in-the-know.
I remember how much my parents used to get annoyed with the C & E's because it meant that we had to be at Mass like, 800 hours before things started just to get a seat. And we were there every week.
That was my parents. We however, are not so good at getting to church on a weekly basis. But we made it -- on time, with Finn in tow and he behaved the whole Mass like a good little leprechaun. Oh, and he looked rather styling as well. He was rockin' the sweater vest like no other 2 month old there.
Easter to me is not a huge holiday. I know from a strictly theological standpoint it is sorta the big one, but not huge in my mind. Which is why -- in a very commercial, non-theology based move, I decided against waiting in line at the mall like the 8,749 other families on Saturday for a picture with a large stuffed rabbit - aka the Easter Bunny.
Martine had a good point -- when you go to see Santa, its for a purpose. To let him know what you want for Christmas. The Easter Bunny just brings stuff on principal -- candy, chocolate, eggs.... you get the idea. You don't actual engage with the Easter Bunny, you just sit there, smile (hopefully) and go about your business. So it wasn't a big deal.
Additionally, I don't think that Finn will look at me accusingly in 15 years and be like"Mom -- why don't I have any pictures with the Easter Bunny?!?!"

And in a terribly devout mood, we made it home from Easter dinner with the family in time to see the season finale of Rock of Love 3.
Yes.
It pretty much undercut any and all moral high ground I had gained by attending church that morning. In fact, I am fairly sure it set me back a few more Christmas and Easters. But I have to watch.
Its like that wreck on the interstate that you slow down to look at even though you know its wrong and you aren't going to like what you see.
It was the finale people.
His ROCK OF LOVE.
Complete with Ring!!!
That was a new twist this season -- never had a ring before. And I was pulling for our sweet-Southern girl-next-door Mindy. But instead, he went with the batshit crazy, Penthouse Pet of the Year -- Taya.
Ick. Gross. And ick some more.
Joe called it -- and I was still disappointed.
Of course, we were watching and Finn is sitting in our laps and we are watching with him. I felt sorta bad. Like I should be covering his eyes or giving him a bath after the show was over.
Bad parents.
I need some Baby Einsteins or something. At least then I wouldn't feel as guilty about the pull the TV has over my kid.

What else?
Adding insult to injury -- on this rainy, wet, overcast Monday (never a good start to the week in and of itself) today was Finn's first day at daycare.
Boo.
Don't get me wrong -- as I have mentioned before, I have no dreams of being a stay-at-home mom. Not my thing. And I knew this was coming, but it was still hard to do.
He just looked at me with these big, innocent, happy eyes and was like, Ok Mom -- leave me with perfect strangers. That is just fine. I will cope.
The worst part is that I know logically that he is fine, in a good place with people that have his best interest at heart. However, I never went to daycare. My mom stayed at home for all of us, so I have no point of reference for what I am subjecting him to.
Millions have done it before me, millions did it today and millions will do it tomorrow, -- it just makes the whole idealistic, newborn patina that I have painted over this whole domestic scene erode.
Bah.

Now Listening: August and Everything After by Counting Crows

Stats lie

I am opinionated.
Of that there is little debate. And I do like to at least think that my opinions are well thought out and bare some merit on their own standing.
I throw this out there as I am about to go on a little rant about an article I read yesterday.
You can read the article here on CNN.com
First of all, it took me a few sentences into said article for me to realize that I am now one of the statistics. That in and of itself took me a little bit of time. And I think the reason that it did, is that MOST of the article is versed in terms of not just out of wedlock births, but being raised by single moms. I have immeasurable respect for single mothers. No matter what the path that got them to this point in their lives. Having done this mom thing for a mere two months, I cannot fathom how one does it alone. And we have (knock on some SERIOUS wood) not had any issues in those two months to really challenge us.
And so I feel a little odd being lumped into that category - because aside from a piece of paper, Joe and I live together, we are raising our son together and we are by every definition I can think of, minus again, that damn piece of paper, a family.
The other thing that really chapped my ass - large, white and otherwise, was this little nugget:

Along with magazine-cover grabbers like Angelina Jolie and Bristol Palin,
Hoffman, today a 39-year-old mother of three, is part of a now record-breaking
trend of women who give birth outside of wedlock.

Ok read that.
Now read again.
Bristol Palin is not a trendsetter in my mind.
She is a 17 year old girl who, like many 17 year old girls before her, let her hormones get the best of her and will now have a lifetime of responsibility to remind her of that. But she is not, in my mind a woman. She is still in high school, still living at home, still dependent on her family to support her financially. Now, I will grant you, its her mother that created the drama as the VP candidate, but to count her or even CONSIDER her as a trendsetter -- is nutso.
And times that by about a ba-zillion when you consider the "trend" that is being discussed.
Because believe me, it wasn't like I sat around and thought to myself, "Self, you know what I really want in 2009? A baby!! Yep, all the cool kids are having them and I need one"
No.
Not really.
Not at all.
But once it happened, it wasn't like I WAS a 17 year old. I was 32 years old, with a good job, benefits, a home and the means to support a child. And a father that wanted to, and has been from day one, a huge part of his life.
Maybe I am looking to justify it because this isn't how I thought this would happen.
But what in life does? I mean really.
I didn't plan on my mom passing away before I had kids. Or got married. But she did.
And we have made it.
I guess what I am saying is that while the situation isn't ideal, you really have to look at each situation on its merits. And that is where nationwide studies like this fall short because I am now in the same statistical category as a 17 year old girl who is still totally dependent on her mother.
I am also in the same category as Angelina Jolie.
And well, there is about zero in my life that puts me in the same category as her, so the other end of the spectrum isn't accurate either.
Snargleblatt.
The whole thing just irks me.
And thus, I shall close the chapter on my statistical trending rant.
I never was good at math.

Now Listening: Moondance by Van Morrison

Does this mean I am a prude?

Clearly I don't have an issue saying what's on my mind.
And clearly, there are few topics that I won't touch in my ramblings.
I feel that is ok as this is a place for me to dump the contents of my brain and people can choose to read or not.
Unlike, say TV.
And there are those that would argue, if you don't like what you are watching, change the channel.
Makes sense.
Except when it is a commercial that is the cause of the WTF? eyebrow raising moment.
I mean unless, you have TiVO, you can't fast forward through the commercials.
Perhaps you have seen this one.
Women are shown walking around from various activities. Leaving the tennis courts, the show, running ...you get the idea.
And as each on walks by a bush, it changes shapes. And then you realize its a commercial for an electric razor and trimmer and we are infer that the shapes that the bush changed into as the respective woman walked by is well.... yeah.
Don't get me wrong, I am all about keeping stuff cleaned up and well manicured. However, the blatant broadcasting of said preferences as a marketing tool seems a little, well, gross.
And it certainly isn't going to make me run out and by said trimmer.
Have I lost it?
Well, I mean specific to this topic.

Now Listening: How We Operate by Gomez

You could write a book

Oh, the things they don't tell you.
To say that pregnancy and the birth process is a well documented experience, is sorta like saying the sky is blue. I mean, come on -- when a Playboy Bunny can write a book about it, then you know the cannon is fairly well covered. That's Jenny McCarthy for those of you that didn't know.
I felt then, that there was little that I could offer to the world in terms of new insight on the process. However, there is that period after you have a baby -- both immediately and like, 2 months afterwards that gets little press.
What they don't tell you could actually fill a book.
Its like a secret ritual that you have go through to enter the mommy sorority.
I though hazing was a frowned upon activity, but oh well....
I will save you all the gory details and some of the less, erm, socially acceptable pitfalls that befall most women. Yes, as a new member of the sorority, I have drank the kool-aid, learned the secret handshake and will now keep some details to myself. But there are a few that I feel can be discussed.
Your figure.
I know, I know. Why persist on a topic that plagues most women anyway? Regardless of their childbearing status? I bitched about it before I got in a family way, so I reserve the right to continue merrily down that path.
And in keeping with the trend that the media has so willingly given us -- you see all the celebrity moms that looks like, well rock stars, 4 weeks after their kid arrives.
This is what I think, You hear stories all the time of people that just "lost the weight, I swear I didn't do a THING"
These people fall into two categories:
1) the aforementioned celebrity or 2) 23 year olds whose bodies just bounce back.
As I am not a celebrity packing a doctor that does a C-section and a tummy tuck at the same time, a personal trainer and chef nor did I start out as some size 4, rail thin 23 year old, this has become an issue.
An issue that has manifest itself through my closet. I have been working on getting all the donated pregnancy clothes back to their respective donatee's. Thus, I have had to go back into the hazy, Rubbermaid bin filled world of pre-pregnancy clothes to fill the closet back up.
Problem. I am still about 4-5 lbs off my pre-pregnancy weight. And while 4-5 lbs shouldn't cause major issues, its where it is living that is the problem.
My boobs are HUGE. And I have a tire right round' the middle. So none of my pants will button and my shirts are too tight.
Even my "fat clothes" (yes girls, you all have some in the closet) are pushing it.
Which means that I am going to have to go buy NEW stuff. And while I normally enjoy a good round of retail therapy, having to buy stuff because nothing fits is not a fun shopping trip. Unless of course, its because it is too big. But I haven't had one of those shopping expeditions in quite some time. Nor will I at the rate I am going. Because in order to get into a smaller size, one needs to actively make an effort to BE a smaller size. Right now my main goal is sleeping for more than 3 hours at a stretch. Not making it to spinning class on a regular basis. Of course, based on the above 3 paragraphs, my lack of willingness to fix said issue does not preclude my desire to bitch about the problem.
Sex.
Clearly having sex is what got me into this situation in the first place.
Yes dear reader, this wasn't some immaculate conception. Shocker I know.
But there comes a point when you can't use the "I don't have the ok from the doctor yet" excuse anymore. Because his books let him know exactly when that mystical, magical appointment should roughly take place.
But let me paint a picture for you -- one some of you are all too familiar with. For some, welcome to the harsh reality of parenthood.
You haven't slept a good solid night in, oh 3-4 months. The last month of pregnancy is a bitch for sleeping, and after munchkin, well yeah. You are wearing an old ratty t-shirty and the only pair of work out shorts that fit. Said t-shirt is covered in baby spit up and leaking boob juice. Which creates a nice, slightly curdled milk smell to your outfit. You haven't showered in at least 24 hours. You haven't shaved in like, a lifetime. Anywhere.
There is a baby in a bassinet RIGHT next to your bed that could wake up at any time.
And this, this is a picture of attractiveness? I suppose kudos should be offered up to anyone that can see beyond this picture of less-than-hotness and still have a modicum of desire, but wow.
I just can't get there from here.

Whew.
I feel better and I hope you have learned something.
Now Listening: At Last! by Etta James

60 Day Warranty

Mea culpa.
I have been very bad about posting lately. For what its worth, had a bit of a change in the schedule. Went back to work last week.
Uh huh.
Generally speaking, it wasn't all that horrible. I believe it was made easier due to two factors. 1) I was only working at the office half days and "working" from home the other half. 2) Finn still isn't in daycare.
The original plan was to take the full 12 weeks available to me through FMLA. However, in order to get paid for said leave, I was going to have to use all my vacation, sick and personal time to cover the leave. Well, do the maths there kiddies -- even at a slightly reduced work week (our official work week is 37.5 hours) I was going to need 450 hours to cover the whole leave as paid. And I only had about 6 weeks of that built up -- roughly 225 hours. I did get another week or so donated, but the bottom line was I had to come back.
Momma needs to get paid.
So I sucked it up and jumped back into the crazy current we call the workforce.
Don't get me wrong - I never had any visions of becoming June Cleaver and turning into a stay-at-home-mom. Not my scene. And the maternity leave confirmed that for me. And don't read that as any sort of indictment against stay-at-home-moms. If that is your gig -- knock it out of the park. I firmly believe that in order to be a great mom, girlfriend, friend, sister (fill in any other appropriate descriptors) that I need to be working. I need the stimulation, the engagement and the adult conversation. Not to mention, I have worked my ass off to get where I am with my professional life. I love what I do and I am good at it.
**steps off soapbox**
So back to work I went. And found myself in fairly unknown territory -- at work with nothing to do. HUH??
Seems my boss didn't quite figure out what he wanted to do with me, so I spent my first week back sorting through emails. Which was actually needed. Well, sorta. I have two work email accounts. I had roughly 1800 between the two of them. Now riddle me this... you know I am not here, why on earth are you sending me email? Not gonna respond. So I deleted all the emails from Jan & Feb and just focused on March.
The closest thing I can equate it to is starting a new job. It was like that except I knew everyone and had a rough idea of what I should have been doing, but wasn't.
Good emailin' times.
This now means that I should have much more "adult" content to be reporting on. And no, I don't mean like THAT sort of adult content, but not so baby-centric in my musings.

Which segues to my baby topic -- Mr. Finn turned 2 months last week. This means, like the good parents we are, it was time for another Drs. appt. This also meant shots. He aced the physical with current stats as follows:
Weight: 12 lbs 10 oz (gain of almost 2.5 lbs in a month and tracks him at 75th percentile)
Length: 22.5 In (gain of 1/2 inch. Tracks him at 50th percentile)
Head: 16 cm (tracking him at 75th percentile)
This all means that my dreams of having a tall kid were probably just that, dreams. And that in reality, he will probably just be average height and have a huge noggin'. But he will be cute dammit.
Then he got shots. Boo. I made Joe hold him for them. But he did ok. I will say that we now know what the pain scream sounds like.
He is also starting to talk up a storm. Of course, by talking I mean his version thereof. But when he gets going, he clearly has something on his mind. I just have yet to effectively been able to translate the oohs and aahs into something that we can understand. Time will tell on that one. But I think he is going to be a talker. Which I don't understand. I mean neither Joe or I are talkers.
Oh wait.
Did you sense the sarcasm? No? How about now?
Good.
We are doomed. The kid talks in his sleep.

So aside from the small drama of going back to work, things are good. We are getting back to (or redefining?) life as usual. I just have to remember to NOT be the parent that talks about poop and we will be fine. I caught myself being that parent last week -- and had to stop. Thanks to Beth and Carissa for putting up with the rambling prior to me catching myself.
Ok- back to it.

Now Listening: When the Pawn.... by Fiona Apple

So much to say

What's that? I have things to say?
No, I don't believe it. And there is more than one thing on your mind?

Blasphemy she says.
So - we start with the last weekend.
Finn & I took his first road trip down to see his Grandpa and Aunts. And to spend Courtney's birthday with her. Little dude was a champ on the drive down. Is a three hour trip - sorta like that three hour tour that stranded Gilligan -- moving on...
Fed him and hit the road. He slept the WHOLE time. Didn't blink until we crossed the bridge into the LV. And he started wailing as I crossed from the LV into Lansing. Now, at this point, I am 7-10 minutes from my Dad's house. I am not gonna pull over and feed him when I am that close. Rather than do that, I decided I should rationalize with him. Makes perfect sense. What 7 week old doesn't understand what his mom is saying to him??
Right.
But, like I said, couldn't complain. Got the car into park and made a mad dash into the house to feed the screaming munchkin.
My dad had a flash of brilliance and decided to have a little open house on Saturday. Saved me from having to drive all over town to show off the little guy. Got to see all my Mom's friends and quite a few of my dads. I think there was easily a 2 to 3 hour period where I didn't touch Finn at all. He was a champ. Ended up sleeping through most of it, but hey -- thats his way of dealing.
After that insanity -- good insanity, but insanity anyway -- I promised him we would take it easy on Sunday.
Ooops.
That will teach me about promising things to him.
Sunday should have been an easy day of hanging out before hitting the road and coming home and chilling out with Joe.
But instead it was pre-historic-kiddie-meteor-shower hell.
Let me 'splain.

My dad says to me on Saturday - "Hey, we were going to get some brunch with Karen (his girlfriend) and her daughter-in-law and grandkids. You should join us". Being a nice daughter, I agreed that it would be a nice thing to do and I should play nice with the new version of extend a family. Whatevs... unbeknownst to me, the extend-a-family had chosen the restaurant. Understand that I am a pretty anti-chain kind of diner. I will go when needed but not really a fan and tend to avoid at all costs if I can. So when they say to me, we are going to "T-REX" I don't think too much of it. Like that is a nickname or something.

WRONG.

Its kiddie restaurant hell. Its full of animatronic, growling life-size dinosaurs. Check it out yourself here. You get seated by a tour guide. Rooms are divided into themes -- the ancient sea, the ice age... etc. Kids are encouraged to walk around. The room we were in had a giant triceratops and every 30 minutes or so, the "meteor shower" that killed all the dinosaurs happens. Think seizure inducing rave-like light show and you get the idea. We also had a giant fish tank that had a Dorie and Nemo fish in it. Which with kids encouraged to walk around, resulted in several 4 year olds running up to it, screaming "DORIE! NEMO!" and hitting the crap out of the glass. And the food wasn't that good. My theory was that the bar does really well. If I was an adult in there, I would try and drink myself into oblivion as well. And I know you are thinking, "Meghan, you are an adult" Yes, however I had to drive 3 hours and I am nursing. Its the double threat that kept me from several Bloody Mary's.
Let's just say that I won't be doing that again any time soon.
Ever.

Ever, ever.

We also had Finn's first ever St. Patricks day this week. That was pretty good stuff. I mean, I don't think I will be up for the mom-of-the-year awards after bringing a kid into a bar. But if there is one day that you can get away with it, its Patty's day dammit. And we had not one, but two outfits for him. And we ended up needing both of them as we had a blow-out that required a costume change. And I mean, how cute is this:

Everyone needs their first taste of Guiness early in life. Other photos of the day can be found at the Flickr link on the left.

Oh, backtracking -- Happy Birthday to Courtney. I did get a chance to go out for dinner with her and a few of her friends. Which was a good time. Sushi is always a good thing. And I got to leave Finn with my dad for the evening. So a few hours of girl time was well enjoyed.

That should about catch us up with the current life and times of Meghan.
Summing up:
St Patricks Day -still a good time with a kid in tow
Kiddie Themed Dinosaur Resturants - painful. Like, bamboo slivers under the fingernails painful.
Finn - still the cutest little leprechaun on the planet.

Now Watching: The Colbert Report

Zippers and buttons and waistbands, oh my

It was time.
I could only keep wearing elastic panel pants for so long.
I have lost a good chunk (pun intended) of the pregnancy weight. Its crazy though -- I am only 6 lbs off of my pre-pregnancy weight, not that it was a good starting point, but I am carrying it in ways I didn't think possible. Namely in the form of a large tire of goodness around my waist. So I have been wearing the pregnancy clothes since Finn was born. Under the excuse of my c-section. Specifically - that the waistband of most clothes hit right at the incision point.
But I couldn't keep it up.
It was time to re-introduce myself to buttons and zippers.
So, I sucked up my pride and went to buy some jeans I could fit into. Which means due to the aforementioned tire, I had to buy a pair that were 2 sizes bigger than I normally wear.
Which given the fact that I have the all clear from the doctor, means I need to get my ass exercising at some point should I ever want to see that old size again.
It was either that or shovel myself into the jeans that I have right now and then deal with the muffin-top of all muffin-tops.
Hotness.

Now Watching: West Wing re-runs

Photo Realism

I have espoused the great work of Paige Peterson on more than one occasion here. She did my maternity pictures. I mean, come on, when you make a 8-month pregnant woman feel good about pictures, you are doing something right.
So we had her back to do Finn's newborn pictures -- that was the plan the whole time. And today I got a sneak preview of the pics -- you can check them out here on Paige's blog.
Suffice it to say I was totally blown away and can't wait to see the rest of them.
She is amazing. And for the record, its not just because the subject was super cute -- he is -- but the accessory parents are pretty good lookin' too!!

Now Watching: Hell's Kitchen

Adult Swim

Or adult time.
Or Mom & Dad's night out.
Also known as the "how I had more than one glass of wine in a 2 hour period"
As a belated Valentine's Day outing, Joe got us tickets to go see Andrew Bird here in town. So we decided to make a night of it and went out to dinner as well. And Grandma and Grandpa agreed to babysit.
I was a little apprehensive about going out for the night as I am currently the sole source of food for Finn. But we started prepping early in the week and managed to get a little stockpile of mom-juice to get him through the evening.
Here is what I learned in a few short hours last night:

• Cafe Di Scala is a great as ever. Dinner was fantastic.
• The ability to whistle is one that is totally underrated. Andrew Bird has elevated whistling to an art form.
• After not drinking for oh, roughly 9 months -- 3 glasses of wine had me feeling pretty darn good.
• Thank goodness for the concept of "pump & dump". If you are not sure what that is, well, just think about it a little bit.
• The more things change at gt's, the more they stay the same. We stoped in for one drink after the show and saw some people I hadn't seen in ages. And they are all the same people that I had expected to run into there.
• Joe and I are capable of having a conversation -- and extended one at that -- that doesn't center around Finn.
• I can still walk in heels.

And now, it is back to baby central at my house. But that is ok. I will admit, while I had a great time last night, I did miss him a little bit.
There should be more to expound on, however, I can't come up with more.

Now Watching: The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Big Sunday here at the casa....

Rainy Thursday

I believe I am going to come out of my maternity leave a smarter person.
I say this as the lack of quality programming on daytime TV has led me down a viewing path to the Discovery, History and National Geographic channels. Hell, I even watched some Iowa Public Television.
Now, I know there is a small section of you that are thinking, TV? Shouldn't you be doing stimulating, yet developmentally relevant things with your kid?
Sure, if you know what those are that don't include feeding him, changing him, napping with him and talking to him, just let me know.
And I am only talking to him in one language, so please don't suggest I take up another one to teach him right now.
So - its either those channels and all the learning I can do, or countless re-runs of Law & Order.
This also means that I am totally behind on anything related to current events, music, movies, books -- you get the idea. If it is an adult topic that doesn't include the pros and cons of Pampers vs. Huggies, then I got nuthin'.
I now understand why we thought our parents were so not relevant growing up. They didn't have time to keep up. Not for lack of wanting to, but sleep deprivation, keeping a house in running (notice I did not say clean or organized) order, and managing to take a shower every other day keeps me from spending too much time reading the paper.
I cringe to think what is going to happen when I tack a full time job back on to that heap.
I think that is the double-helix-upsidedown-loop-de-loop portion of the rollercoaster we call life.
Can't wait.

And breathe....

Moving on, Finn is doing awesome. Although, he has gotten into the habit of getting sorta fussy (read: pissy) at night. And doesn't do so well at 3 AM when it comes to going back to sleep after being fed, but for the most part -- good kid.
We had our one month check-up Tuesday.
The stats for those that care:
Weight: 10 lbs 5 oz (50th percentile for weight)
Length: 22 inches (75th percentile for height)
Which according to the doctor tracks him at 6' by adulthood. That Joe or I could make a tall kid is somewhat amazing. That he is not a super-chunk of a kid is equally amazing. I always thought we would make a short, round kid. We shall see what the future holds.
New pictures are posted, check the Flickr site for updates.
Ok - the little leprechaun is getting fussy. And as the only mom-cow in residence, that means that I am needed.

Now Watching: Operation Valkyrie: The Plot to Assassinate Hitler on History Channel -- see, I told you.

The new normal

So I promised to get better about posting while on leave. Seems I don't have as much to comment on as I am spending most of my days at home, talking to myself or a 3 week old that doesn't respond and thus, don't have much interaction with others to make snarky, bitchy, off-hand comments about.
Don't take this as a sign of going soft. Far from it -- motherhood hasn't robbed me entirely of my need to provide smart-ass color commentary on the world around me. Its just the fodder here at the house is pretty limited.
So how have I been filling my hours you ask?
Well lets see --
It goes a little something like this:
Get woken up by baby at roughly 6 AM -- feed baby.
Change baby diaper or hand off to Joe to do the deed.
Go back to sleep.
Wake up at roughly 8 AM when baby starts crying again
Feed baby.
Change diaper and outfit.
Move downstairs.
Try and get a few things done around the house while baby is sleeping.
Feed baby.
Change baby.
Change baby again as he really likes to wait and crap his pants only AFTER I have a clean diaper on him.
Stare at baby for a little bit.
Feed baby
Change baby
Maybe get a shower in....

You picking up on a theme here??
Now, don't get me wrong. He is awesome, and I love the living hell out of him, but when they say that you will be feeding a kid a lot, they are not lying.
I am a mom-cow.
Yep - one big feeding frenzy at my house these days. And not because Joe has decided to start cooking like a mad-man.

In other news we had our first family pictures/Finn's newborn pictures done yesterday. Paige Peterson did them -- same woman that did our maternity pictures (link to her site is on the left). She actually came to the house and took them -- which was a good thing. I have been telling everyone that Finn is a good baby, which he is. However, yesterday he decided to be a pain in the rear right at the same time that we were supposed to be smiling for the camera. But we made it through - Paige was a trooper and hung with us while we got his highness calmed down enough between pics. I am pretty excited to see the proofs. Should be 7-10 days.
Aside from that, nothing new to report.

Now Watching: Sesame Street - it seemed like a better background option for Finn, than say, Law & Order. However, I was bummed when I realized I only recognized two characters right away. I am old.

Good-bye Good Friend

Yesterday sucked.

Not post-partum. Not overwhelmed with my new responsibilities. Not hormones.

Nope, we had a shit day at the casa.

We had to put Bailey down yesterday.

This is Bailey.

He has been around for over 10 years. Through moves, new jobs, relationships -- he never complained. Ok -- maybe he did. I did take to calling him my "cranky old-man". And he was. But he was my cranky old man and I loved him. He was "my" first pet. We had animals at my parents house, but those were not mine.

The bottom line was he was getting old, somewhere between 13 - 15 years old. Had lost a bunch of weight -- which doesn't fly in the feline world at my house. All my cats are large -- 12lbs plus each. He was the big guy at 17 lbs when he was in good health.

And yesterday it was obvious that we had reached the end. So I did what I could to keep him comfortable. And Joe had to take him to the vet. I just couldn't do it. With the hormones on overload, the situation was just a little too much for me to handle.

So I said good bye to him and take solace that he isn't getting any worse.

He will be missed.

The good, the bad and the sleepless.

I am still here. Just been slightly distracted the last 10 days or so....
I feel like I should have SO much to report on to everyone. So lets start in no particular order

Hormones. Those whirling dervishes of goodness that were the bain of my existence during pregnancy are wielding their considerable power again. This time in the form of extreme emotional outbursts. Today it was those stupid ASPCA commericals with the sappy Sarah McLachlan song that goes with them. And they aren't stupid really. Its a great cause, but I was about to go over the edge this morning.

C-Sections. There was a number of reasons I wanted to avoid one. First of all, I have never had surgery. The closest I have gotten was getting my wisdom teeth extracted when I was a freshman in college. So, the unknown factor was kinda freaky in my mind. And then there is recovery. So you can't drive for 2 weeks following surgery -- which I broke the rules and drove yesterday a whole two days ahead of schedule. It was a 10 minute errand to the bank that would have taken 30 if we would have bundled Finn up and so on. Stairs are less of a bitch than they were a week ago -- but still can kick you in the ass. And I can't lift anything heavier than Finn for the next 4 weeks. Do the math, 9.5 lbs is not that much. I mean, I can't even lift a 12 pack of soda. Oh, and I now have a scar across my pelvis that I am not sure what it will look like when its all said and done. Not that my pelvis gets a lot of visibility, but still.
However, the reasons for it were legit -- the kids head was 13 cm in diameter and his torso was 14.
As a friendly reminder, the cervix only goes to about 10 cm. That means he had an extra 3-4 cms of baby to squeeze through. In my mind, that math doesn't add up.
And pants. Don't get me wrong, I have zero expectations around regaining my figure this quickly. I am not that naive. So wearing maternity pants a little longer isn't a big deal. However, with a incision right across your pelvis, it eliminates a good portion of the pants that I was wearing. So, I am down to like 2 pairs of pants to wear. And they were not the favorites when I was pregnant. Although I am not really leaving the house, so not sure why I would be so concerned about how I look.

Sleep. Everyone says that you should get used to not sleeping. Telling you that and the reality of it are two totally different things. Its funny, Joe and I used to be up to 0'dark thirty on a regular basis. Now we both will fall asleep on the couch at like 11. Of course, when we stayed up till all hours of the night, we would sleep in till noon or something insane like that. Those days are long gone, to say the least.

Cabin Fever. I have now been in this house for 2 weeks with very little outside entertainment. And by entertainment, I mean just leaving the house. The grocery store was a big deal on Thursday, just because I got out of the house. Not to mention that I miss my friends. Not that Joe hasn't been great -- he has. And we got a Wii -- so that has helped pass the time. I rock at bowling, which is very ironic given my checkered actual bowling past. And I need to work on my Iron Chef skills. Yes, there is an Iron Chef Wii game -- it was the first one that Joe bought.
But I need some girl time here pretty quickly.

My house. Since I am limited on what I can and can't do, the clutter factor has gotten pretty high pretty quickly. And baby stuff has taken over. Everyone told us this would happen and to just find a way to get over it. Most days I do, but every now and then, it does drive me loco and I have to de-clutter a little bit. Which lasts all of about 20 minutes, but it helps.

And on the good -- make that amazing - side, there is Finn.
I can stare at him for hours on end. He is a really good baby. Has a mini-meltdown about once a day, normally in the evening, but aside from that, awesome. He makes us laugh with his insane faces while he sleeps. The crazy positions that somehow he seems comfortable in. And of course, all the little noises. Its cliche, but after two weeks I cannot imagine my life without him in it.

I promise to get back on the blogging wagon with a little more regularity here in the upcoming days, weeks etc. We are still working on schedules and such. And by working on schedules, I mean that one day its feeding every hour, the next its every 3 -- so we don't really have a schedule.

Now Watching: Joe play Tiger Woods Golf on the Wii.

Day Five of my new life

or the story of how my belly button came back. The Little Leprechaun made his arrival. Finally.

And we have proof:

There he is.

Finnian James McConville

January 25th, 2009

9 lbs 4 oz (yes, that big)

20.5 inches long

Things finally kicked off about 9 PM on Friday night. So yes, when you do the math -- he was born at 4 AM -- we were in labor for about 30 hours, give or take a few.

And while we had the best of plans, all natural, totally in control, things ended up a little different.

Made it to about 7.5 cm dilation before I realized that I needed the epidural.

And when I needed it, I needed it RIGHT NOW.

God love that doctor. Joe told me after the fact how big the needle was. Didn't care, didn't feel it.

And we got to 10 cm in good fashion and we all thought, sweet, we are gonna have this kid today. Well, it seems that while I never thought my hips would not be able to handle a kid, it seems that Finn had other plans.

We couldn't get him to move on his own. So after 3.5 hours of pushing, we ended up having to go the C-section route.

I don't remember much about it. Other than being cold, Joe being right by me and him screaming when they finally brought him over the curtain commenting on how big he really was.

But in the end, he arrived, was healthy and we both are doing great.

Joe was awesome. And hasn't taken his hands off of him since he arrived. I am not sure I could have done it all without him. Our doula was fantastic. All in all, while it wasn't anything near what I had hoped it would be, it was amazing. Our families stuck it out at the hospital the whole time. And the flood of friends was amazing.

So what have we learned this week in the post-labor world.

My belly button has started to return.

Staples are in fact uncomfortable.

Percoset is a great drug.

Sleep is a lost art.

One flight of stairs never seemed so large.

Joe was made to be a dad. He hasn't let this kid out of his sight.

And so, it begins.

And here is another picture of him, a few hours older and looking still as cute: