On a completely different note...

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Jules

Just wanted to take a moment to remember my friend Julie Brusegaard-Bissel, who lost her year-long fight with cancer yesterday. She leaves behind a family who loves her dearly, including her husband Bob, her 19-month old son Blake, and her sister Tammi. Julie, you've touched a lot of people with your joy and love and your baby boy is lucky to have such a wonderful guardian angel watching over him. Rest in peace.

He makes me smile

Apparently I'm a bit behind on the times on this whole thing, but my mom introduced me to "Where the Hell is Matt" on YouTube and I've watched it at least a dozen times already. It makes me happy. Especially the Bollywood segment.

Como say what?

I've been receiving emails from Swedish Medical Center (where Zachary was born and where we took our parenting classes) every week for the past 18 months or so. At first, the subjects were along the lines of "Your pregnancy this week: Pack your bag". Then they changed to "Your baby this week: Bathtime" Today's was "Your toddler: Saying 'no'".

I'm sorry, what? Toddler? MY toddler? When did that happen?

Our own Tom Thumb

I had a strange dream last night. I dreamed that we were at a baby party with Z, and he suddenly started walking. Then he was running around, and Chris and I were trying to keep up with him. The problem was that he was only about 2 inches tall! He ran down a hall and we lost him. The party was in a student house or something, with lots of doors into bedrooms opening off of the hall. It was really dirty, and we were crawling around on our hands and knees trying to find our little 2-inch boy. It was crazy! Chris was angrily yelling, I was quietly panicking, and even Cowboy was helping us look. But I woke up before we found him.

When I woke up to the sound of Z babbling in his crib, my first thought was "Oh thank goodness, he came back!" And then I was relieved that he's too big to lose under a pile of dirty clothes, no matter how fast he runs.

Very odd.

Cowboy hates Halloween

Traveling light

To check:

• 2 suitcases
• 1 set of golf clubs

To carry on/gate check:

• 1 umbrella stroller w/bag
• 1 convertible car seat w/bag
• 1 diaper bag
• 1 backpack
• 1 giant tote bag w/toys, food, baby carrier
  
• 1 baby

My days of traveling every week with my carry-on and laptop bag suddenly seem soooo far away...

The whole fam damily

Couldn't get all of us to look at the camera at the same time, but 3 out of 4 isn't too bad.

Crying over spilled milk

I just threw out 52 bags of frozen breastmilk because it went bad in the freezer. That's 260 ounces = 16 cups = 4 quarts = 1 GALLON of milk. That represents approximately 18 hours of pumping. 18 hours of time spent so that I would have a good stash for Zachary. Down the drain. Literally.

Now I'm working with the Dude to figure out the best way to nourish my little guy since the frozen milk I'd counted on is gone. I got my trusty Pump-In-Style out, but it appears that my magical milk-making power has disappeared. I just want to cry.

The end of an era

Warning: This post is all about breastfeeding. If reading about breastfeeding makes you uncomfortable, well, don't read this. And if you got to this page because you Googled "breast", you need to get out more.

It seems that I am no longer a nursing mother. Which I suppose means that I'm not allowed to eat pints of ice cream for dinner anymore. Or rather, I'm allowed to...but not without weighty consequences.

I've been slowly cutting back on nursing, following Zachary's cues as he's become less interested. We were down to 3-4 times a day when both Zachary and I got sick. He caught a cold (which made nursing difficult for him because he couldn't breathe through his nose) and I got mastitis (which made life difficult for me because OUCH! It hurts! And I have a fever! And I'm sore all over! And I feel like crap!).

Since this is my 10th case of mastitis, my doctor wanted me to come in so she could give me a trophy for breaking the office record for mastitis masochism (apparently, no one else is crazy enough to continue BFing after getting more than one or two cases of mastitis). Either that, or she wanted to see if it's possible that I really have mastitis again. Turns out that yes, I do, and my doc said that I probably got this particular case due to the weaning. Although Zachary and I were on the same page with the whole thing, my body hadn't gotten the memo. My doc prescribed me some meds and warned me that I would probably get at least one more case as we wean completely. Oh good, something to look forward to!

Newly armed with my meds, I continued to try to nurse Zachary. He, however, wanted nothing to do with it. His way of letting me know was very clear and succinct: he bit me. Not a "I'll nurse for a little while and then experiment with my teeth" thing...he was very deliberate. "Boob? Bite!" I've continued to try nursing him at our normal times (4x/day) for four days, and each time he takes a look and then takes a bite. So I think this is the end.

I've been worried about how I would wean him. I didn't want to withhold nursing from him when he wanted it. I wasn't sure how we would manage the mornings without bringing him into bed to nurse while stealing a few more minutes of sleep. I didn't know if it would be hard to put him to sleep without our nightly bath-boob-book-bed routine.

This way, it's much easier. He decided on his own that he's done, so we don't have to soothe him or try to come up with a replacement. He's happy as can be, and I'm dealing with the engorgement and associated potential for clogged ducts and mastitis while I'm already on meds for my existing case of mastitis. I was planning to wean him at around 12 months anyway, and I have enough frozen milk to keep him supplied at least that long. It really couldn't be a better situation.

Even so, this is a strange time for me. Zachary and I had a really hard time getting started with BFing, but we stuck it out and were able to make it over the hurdles. I went through times when I felt resentful of having to nurse him so frequently, of not having the freedom to leave him for more than an hour at a time, of not feeling like my body belonged to me anymore. I couldn't eat dairy for months because he was sensitive to it, and I still haven't touched peanut butter since he had a mild reaction. And of course, I've had 10 cases of mastitis.

But overall, I've enjoyed this special time with him so much. I'm in awe of the fact that this body of mine has nurtured him so well. I cherish the intimacy that we've shared 4-12 times per day every day for almost 11 months. I'm honored that he found such comfort in nursing, that it was a sure-fire way to calm him down when he was upset. And I smile when I think about his desperate attempts to latch on to any part of me (including my nose, my chin, my stomach, my elbow...).

I will miss this.

WND

Tonight I hosted Wednesday Night Dinners! We had pasta, veggies and salad, plus a couple bottles of wine. Yum. Amanda was supposed to bring stuff for garlic bread, but instead, she bought a house. We figured that's the best excuse ever, so we let her get away with it (congrats to Amanda and Ryan, new homeowners!). It was a nice evening of catching up and enjoying conversation while watching Amanda freak out as she waited to hear if they got the house. Zachary slept through the whole thing (which was good, because even as cute as he is, boys aren't allowed at WND) and Cowboy basked in all the female attention (we let Cowboy stick around, because he's not "all" boy anymore). Thanks for such a lovely time, gals!

Random observations: The letter "M" is a popular one with this group. Margaret, Melissa, aManda, Meg, Mary...and wenMei? And why do I feel very, um, brunette when I look at these pictures?

Roll over

I reached a milestone with my camera this week. When I take pictures, I keep the image numbers running continuously rather than resetting to zero every time I clear off the memory card. That way, all of my pictures are named in sequential order and it's easy for me to organize them. Well, earlier this week, I hit the maximum number and had to start again from zero. That means that, in less than one year, I've taken over 10,000 pictures with this camera. (Note: I have two other cameras that I use as well.) I'm not sure if that's impressive or disturbing. Or if it's not even that big of a deal. I mean c'mon, 10k+ pictures isn't that much, is it? That's only 830 pictures a month. Or 190 pictures a week. Or about 30 pictures a day. See, that's TOTALLY reasonable.

Missing pets

When I take Zachary and Cowboy for walks, I often see signs for missing pets stapled to the telephone poles around the neighborhood. The vast majority of them read about the same: "Beloved dog missing since Sunday night", "Help me find my tabby cat", etc. Lately, however, there have been a couple unusual signs. Yesterday I saw several signs for a missing parakeet (he answers to "Sweetie"). Today I saw a sign for a missing Turtle named "Escapé". Which I suppose is appropriate. But how exactly does a turtle go missing? Did he run away?

Yarr

In honor of International Talk Like a Pirate Day, here's my favorite pirate joke. In fact, it's one of my favorite jokes, period (along with the lumberjack joke...which you'll have to ask me about in person because it doesn't translate well via blog).

"A pirate walks into a bar, and the barkeep says "Excuse me, cap'n, but did you know that you've got your ship's wheel stuck in your pants?" "Aye," says the pirate, "it's drivin' me nuts!"

I hope ye all be hoisting a mug o' grog in honor of t'day!

Updated: If you happened to read this post before I added this update, then wait a few weeks before you ask me about the lumberjack joke. Because, in typical Wenmei fashion, I introduced the joke by telling you the punch line. I'm SO not cut out to be a comedian.

Happy anniversary to us!

(Click on the little sound icon between "slide" and "more" to turn off the music)

Another demographic division

Now that Zachary is over 10 months old and eating more solid foods per day than I do, I know that our nursing relationship will end soon. Even though we had a difficult start and I went through stages of feeling overwhelmed or trapped or resentful when he was nursing every hour (not to mention the 9 episodes of full-blown antibiotic-requiring mastitis and countless clogged ducts), I'm sad to know that soon I won't be nursing him anymore.

Because I don't know too many mothers who continue to EBF (exclusively breastfeed) up to or beyond 6 months, I was curious about what the national trends are. I looked at the Healthy People 2010 goals and the CDC's Breastfeeding Report Card (based on national data from 2005). The national objective is to increase the number of mothers and the length of time they BF. The targets for 2010 are as follows: 75% in early postpartum, 50% at 6 months and 25% at 12 months. In 2005, we'd already reached 74.2% in early postpartum, 43.1% at 6 months, and 21.4% at 12 months. It seems that, as a country, we are right on track to meet the goals! But there's a fair amount of discrepancy between the states (over 90% of mothers in Washington BF at least a little while, whereas less than 50% of mothers in Louisiana do).

Looking at the data, the states who already meet the national goals are Alaska, California, Idaho, Oregon, Utah, Vermont, and Washington. Way to go westerners! And Vermont. I've always liked Vermont. And I guess that explains why BFing is so accepted (and often pushed) around here -- we are in the midst of the "lactation belt" of the United States!

I wonder how long it will be before politicians start pandering to us, promising free Hooter Hiders for votes. I already have my Hooter Hider, but I'll take some Baby Legs if you're offering.

My new favorite wedding picture

And it's not even mine!

As much as I enjoy having a 15 lb paper weight...

...I'm happy to be removed from the telephone directory delivery list. If you'd like to stop receiving unsolicited copies of the yellow/white pages every year, go to Yellow Pages Goes Green to sign up!

I wonder how long they debated over whether they should use "goes" or "go"?

Now if I could just get the Seattle Times to stop delivering unsolicited papers to our door. And yes, I've called and written. They stopped for a few weeks, but they started up again yesterday. If anyone wants a copy of the paper, it's sitting on our front porch.

The importance of being idle

Last week, we went to the Oasis concert at the WaMu Theater. Oasis doesn't play often in the United States (the only other show they've done in the US since 2006 was in Pittsburgh last January), so we were really excited that they chose to play in Seattle. Especially because Chris loves Oasis. It's almost worth the ticket price just to watch Chris go crazy during the show.

We went with a great group: Ben & Carrie, Matt & Lori, Aran & Kerstin, and Brett & Emily. Carrie got everyone into the VIP area before the show, and they had a great time enjoying pre-show adult beverages and taking fun pictures in the photo booth (see below). I, being the mama, was at home putting the little guy to bed and hanging out until our last-minute-babysitting-savior (aka Z's fairy godmother) Margaret came over. (On an non-concert-related note, Margaret had the very appropriate honor of being the last person to use "her" room -- the next day, we moved the bed out of the guest bedroom and turned it into a playroom for Zachary.)

I made it downtown before the show started and met up with everyone as they headed in to find our seats. We had a great time in our amazing seats (thanks to Matt for getting the tickets so early!). Oasis put on a fantastic show and it was fun to see them in a relatively small venue -- it felt like a college show. Chris almost cried with joy and he got a new Oasis t-shirt that he'll likely be wearing every day for the next 3 months. The night was a wild success.

Here are some pictures from the night, plus a short video to show you just how excited Chris was.

Congrats to Meg and Joe!

Happy happy wedding day to the new Mr and Mrs!

Another year wiser...?

Happy birthday, Margaret!

T&T get hitched

We are in the midst of wedding season! We were triple-booked the first weekend of August, so unfortunately we missed Dave & Ashley and Jeff & Stefany's weddings. But we were able to make it to Texas for Tiffany & Trevor's wedding last weekend!

I've known Tiffany and Trevor for a long time. Tiff and I were good friends back in the mid-80's (we met when I was in 8th grade and she was in 9th grade), and I have lots of great memories of running around Ulm with her and her brother Todd (who is my age). Trevor moved to Ulm a couple years later, when he, Todd and I were in 10th grade. Trevor and Tiffany dated for about 6 months back then, but then Tiffany & Todd moved to Hawaii. Trevor stayed in Ulm until the middle of our senior year, when he moved to Texas.

Anyway, fast forward 10 years. I was living in Seattle, Trevor was in Texas, and Tiff & Todd were in Portland, OR. Trevor and I found one another online and were catching up via email and IM, and Tiff and I reconnected as well. I put Tiff and Trevor back in touch with each other, and the rest is history. At the time, I joked, "If you ever get married, I'd better be in the wedding."

Fast forward another 10 years (to last weekend). Tiff and Trevor get married. And true to her word, Tiffany asked me to be in the wedding.

We had a really good time at the wedding. They were married in a cute little church in Fashing, which appeared to us to be precisely in the middle of nowhere. The ceremony was lovely, and it was so nice to meet Tiff & Trevor's friends and family and see their parents, who I haven't seen in over 20 years. Todd was there with his wife and two little girls, and Tiff's youngest brother Troy was there, looking very grown up. (He must be about 30 now, so I guess that counts as grown up. I don't think we could stuff him into a cardboard box and threaten to mail him to Hawaii now, like we did when he was 8.)

We headed to New Braunfels for the reception, and enjoyed a riverside dinner and celebration. Unfortunately, we had to head back to our hotel after the speeches and bouquet/garter tosses. Zachary was quickly losing steam and starting the loud and ceaseless droning sound he makes when he's tired. Even though we had to leave a bit early, we really enjoyed the whole day! And we were disappointed to miss the newlyweds make their get-away...via decorated tubes on the river. Sweet.

Here are a couple pictures from the event, and I've posted the complete set on flickr.




Pictures: Tiffany & Trevor's wedding

Who knew my hair could do this?

I sure didn't.

I'd need more cabinets

As you know, since Zachary's been eating solids I've been making his food. I started out with just purees, but now I'm adding some chunkier foods as he's getting better at chewing/gumming. In addition to the smooth purees, he's eating brown rice, barley, oatmeal and lentils quite well. He's not so great at finger foods yet (the transition from fingers to mouth is a bit inconsistent), but he's managed stewed blueberries, "oh" cereal, bits of tofu and some cantaloupe.

Anyway, when I make his food, I make a big batch and freeze it in ice cube trays. Then I transfer the cubes to plastic containers and mix and match cubes for each meal. I mix some of them together (sweet potato, chicken and barley) and serve others on their own (peas, peaches, zucchini). I also defrost fruit cubes and add them to his oatmeal.

This system works really well when we're at home. The problem comes when we travel, because the frozen cubes don't travel well. Not only are they difficult to transport, but I need a microwave/stove/hot water to heat them for meals. Thus, I use store-bought baby food for traveling.

I just got enough jars of baby food for the first three days of our upcoming trip to Texas. That's 18 jars, since he eats 5-6oz of food at a time (one 4oz jar + one 2.5oz jar per meal). 18 little glass jars! 18 glass jars we have to pack in our luggage, six of which need to be in our carry-on bag so we can feed him en route. I felt silly and a bit wasteful buying so many individual jars at the store. I can't imagine doing this for all of his meals, every day. Where would I put all of those little jars? And who would help me carry them home from the store?

Here are a couple baby food pictures. The first shows my freezer, with about 20 days worth of frozen food cubes (plus about the same in frozen milk, just in case we need it). The second shows my pile of 3 days worth of baby food jars.

I'm still a PMP

I thought that I left my project management tasks behind when I quit my job, but apparently I haven't. With a little guy who fits 3 naps (which he will only take in a crib), 3 solid meals, 5 nursings and a bath into a 12 hour day, it can be tough to do anything else. Normally this isn't too much of an issue, other than the fact that I can't do anything during the day unless I can squeeze it into the 45 minute slot I have between lunch and nap #3. But we are now in the season of weddings. A wedding that takes place locally isn't too difficult, but a wedding in Texas, in which I am a bridesmaid, is a bit more challenging.

To give you an idea of what we will be juggling this weekend, here is a snapshot of our schedule the day of the wedding. I didn't make the schedule with the intention of sticking to it (after all, a baby will do what a baby will do), but rather to make sure that it's even logistically possible to get in everything we need to do. And it is. Barely.

There are three columns in addition to the time column. The column labeled "Wedding" shows the wedding events that I need to attend. "Zachary" shows his normal schedule at home. "Combined" shows my attempt to mesh the other two columns. It will be tight, Chris will be doing a lot of driving around, and Zachary will miss a nap and go to bed late (which could be VERY trying for anyone within earshot of him), but hopefully it will work out reasonably well.

We have four more weddings after this one, and we're still trying to figure out those logistics...


Legend: yellow = wedding activity; green = driving; peach = sleep; blue = eat

Flattery will get you everywhere

As I was taking a walk with Zachary and Cowboy this morning, an older lady commented on our little group. She said, "What a lovely family. It makes me happy to see a young woman these days who's chosen to stay home to raise her child." I thanked her and couldn't wipe the grin off my face as I walked home. She thinks I'm young!

Sizing me up

Another little quirk of being a nursing mom: I can't fit into my bikini top until after I nurse Z. And then I have ~3 hours before I need another size adjustment.

And Chris wonders why I've refused to buy any new clothes since I was pregnant. Your guess is as good as mine as to what shape and size I'll be once everything settles down! And I do mean down.

People have asked me how long it took to lose the pregnancy weight. To be honest, I didn't really notice because I wasn't paying as much attention to my weight as I was to my shape. I hit my pre-pregnancy weight awhile ago, but I'm not back to my pre-pregnancy shape by any means (and I'm not talking about being "in shape"; I'm talking about my actual volumetric shape). I weigh the same as I did before, but somehow I take up more room...

Adjusting my moral compass

Yesterday, I had an interesting experience. I was driving down Aurora, just about to head into the Battery Street tunnel, when a teenage boy ran across the street in front of my car. I glanced into my rear-view mirror and saw that I was being quite closely followed (i.e. tail-gated) by a truck. I was traveling the speed limit, which I think is 40mph at that point. I had Zachary in the car with me, and I immediately calculated that if I slammed on the brakes to avoid the teenager, the truck would rear-end me. With Zachary happily babbling away in the back seat of the car, the choice was obvious. Luckily, the teenager made it across the road in time.

* Note to non-Seattlites: Aurora/SR-99 is a divided highway that runs through downtown Seattle. In order to run across the road, the kid had to climb over a fence, run across two lanes of traffic, climb over the median barrier, then run across two more lanes of traffic. Basically, it's not a place where one would expect to encounter a pedestrian.

** I'd guess that if I had hit the kid, I would be arrested for criminal negligence or something similar because I didn't try to avoid him. Even though he was breaking the law by running across a 4-lane divided highway, and the guy behind me was breaking the law by following me too closely. In making the decision to protect my child, who was put in a dangerous situation by other people's bad choices, I would end up being the one at fault. That stinks. But you know what? I'd still do it.

Home sweet Ulm

This is where I grew up. This film was done as a promotional film for the Neu Ulm military installation in 1991, but the base closed in 1991 so I don't know if the film was ever used. I lived in Ulm throughout the transition from a "run-down base" to a "model installation" (1977-90). I even worked on some of the renovations when I worked at the DEH (Department of Engineering and Housing) as part of Summer Hire! And by "worked on" I mean, "made copies of the blueprints".

Thanks to Patrick for sharing this video!

Time after time, I laugh

Romy and Michele's High School Reunion is on TV, and every time I see the "Time after Time" dance scene, I giggle helplessly. How I wish life were really like this, full of spontaneous (and impeccably choreographed) dance sequences. The cheesier the better.

I concede

Deborah totally called me out on being lazy with the blogs. Whoops. I have quite a bit to catch up, and I'll start here with my excuses:

• I have a gazillion pictures from our trip back to Pennsylvania to visit Grampa Walt and Grandma Joan, and I haven't had a chance to go through them yet so I haven't been able to post anything.
• Zachary is now in a pattern of sleep/nurse/eat/play that does not give me much time to do anything other than nurse/feed/play, plus a few chores or personal tasks (e.g. shower) while he's napping.
• I failed utterly at being a true SAHM and got myself a part-time job testing ourWorld, a virtual world centered around casual gaming and social interaction. My SAHM-ness lasted for all of 1 hr 45 minutes (if you consider the working day to start at 8 AM). By 9:45 AM on my first day as a SAHM, I became a WAHM (work-at-home-mom), and I've been spending a fair amount of my copious free time testing the ourWorld site.
• It's sunny and warm and lovely outside, so I'd much rather be there than on the computer.

So those are my excuses. My next task is to actually start catching up, and I will do that very soon! But right now, I hear Z stirring from his nap...

100k benefits

I'm a bit annoyed by the airlines' new policy of charging us for each piece of checked luggage. It seems like petty nickel-and-diming to make us pay $15 - $25 to take a bag with us to our destination. Aren't we already paying to transport ourselves (and by association, our luggage) from point A to point B? We already pay extra to have the privilege of stretching out our legs, have a bite to eat, or drink something other than water, soda or coffee/tea. And on many airlines, we have to pay for the cheap headphones so that we can watch out-of-date movies on tiny screens. What else are they going to make us pay for? "I know you paid $300 for a ticket, but if you actually want a seat you're going to have to pay an additional $50."

Yes, I understand that fuel is more expensive than anticipated and the airlines are scrambling. But isn't the ability to manage your business effectively through market fluctuations a sign of competence? When did it become acceptable to run straight to your consumer and charge them for your inability to successfully operate your business? We're talking about an industry that already feels free to charge anywhere from $200 and $800 for the exact same ticket.

Anyway, this isn't what I intended to talk about. I wanted to give a quick description of what we paid 100,000 frequent flyer miles to enjoy:

• SEA to ORD: Relatively painless. We requested an aisle seat and the bulkhead row since we have a baby on our laps, and got neither. But the woman seated in the aisle seat of our row graciously traded seats.
• ORD to PGH: Flight delayed 2 hours. When we finally got on the plane, we weren't seated next to one another. Again, another passenger agreed to trade seats. This is only a 90 minute flight, so we were looking forward to a quick trip, especially since the delay meant that it was cutting directly into Zachary's bedtime, which can create a very screamy and uncomfortable situation for everyone involved. After 2.5 hours in the air (remember, it's a 90-minute flight), we get the announcement that PGH is closed to incoming traffic due to thunderstorms and we are out of fuel. So we land in CLE to refuel and wait out the storm. We finally get back in the air and arrive in PGH 5 hours late.
• PGH to ORD: Sitting at the gate 30 minutes before the flight is scheduled to leave. No plane. Still sitting there 5 minutes after the flight is scheduled to leave. Still no plane. Gate still says, "On time". Finally find out that flight is delayed an 1.5 hours. On a good note, we were given Economy Plus seats, so Chris is able to stretch his legs a bit during the flight.
• ORD to SEA: Flight is an hour late. When we finally take off, the air conditioning AND the television monitors at the back of the plane are broken.

On the bright side, Zachary was a very well-behaved little boy for the vast majority of the flights. We got several comments about what a good baby he is (including from the passengers who were sitting right next to us, which is a testament to just how good he was). One woman who traveled all the way from Seattle to Pittsburgh with us said, "We've taken a vote back here and have decided that your baby is the best baby in the world. He has been SO good on such a long travel day." People were even stopping us in baggage claim to tell us what a good boy he is. Such a clever boy!

Now that I've gotten all of my flight angst out of my system, I'll come back soon and update you on the actual trip! We went back east to introduce Zachary to the PA side of the family and have him baptized in my grandmother's church. It was a lovely and special trip, and I'll update soon with pictures!

I need more arms

I'm adding "swimming" to my list of things that are difficult to do with a baby.

Actually, the swimming itself isn't a problem. The problem is what comes after the swimming: the rinsing/drying/changing extravaganza. Trying to rinse off in the shower, then dry off the baby, put his diaper on, get his clothes on and then put him somewhere safe while you dry yourself off and change into your street clothes is challenging. Especially in a wet locker room crowded with two dozen other moms and their kids. I think it will be a lot easier once Zachary is standing (or at least sitting up very securely) so I can set him down while I try to get things organized. But nonetheless, we had a fun time at our first swim lesson! And we eventually managed to get out of there dry and fully clothed.

I scream

I have a new favorite ice cream. I know, a lactose-intolerant woman who is nursing a baby with dairy sensitivities has no business having ANY ice cream, let alone a new favorite flavor. But you've got to try this! It's Fleur de Sel Caramel ice cream from Haagen Dazs. YUM. If you like salt caramels like those from Fran's Chocolates, then you will love this ice cream. I just wish they had it in a dark chocolate version too.

My horoscope

From Astrology.com:

"Today marks the beginning of a very relaxed and carefree time in your life! Projects have been completed, tasks have been finished and goals have been attained. Now you should just kick back and schedule some time off! Explore a new hobby, or pick up a juicy book you've wanted to crack open. Your brain is open to new ideas and new ways of doing things, so fill it up! Step out of your comfort zone -- it will feel a bit scary, but only in the most exciting way."

At first I thought this was spot-on, but then I picked up on key words like "relaxed", "carefree", "kick back" and "time off". My time off used to be when I was at work, where I had the freedom to do things like make a latte or go to the restroom or even -- gasp! -- run out for a quick bite to eat without having to worry about naps, feedings, or packing up a baby plus the 90 lbs of gear he requires.

Regardless, the general gist of this horoscope is right. Today marks the start of my new life! And to celebrate, I'm sitting here in my bathrobe eating a cupcake while Zachary naps...

...but now I have to hop in the shower, because I have a meeting in an hour. I'm as bad at retiring as my dad is.

Scene from a sitcom -- where's the canned laughter?

Yesterday evening was quite exciting in our household. Zachary was cranky all day, so it had already been a very long day. I'm not sure what was going on with my normally sweet-natured little guy, but if he wasn't eating, sleeping, or being held, he was screaming. So much so that I even heard the neighbors commenting on it to one another ("Boy, sounds like someone isn't too happy today!"). One small mercy was that his overwhelming crankiness didn't interfere with his napping at all.

By the time Chris came home from work, Zachary was teetering on the brink of a complete meltdown. I asked Chris to get the air conditioner we bought for the nursery while I cleaned up Zachary, so that we could try to install the A/C before he went to bed (one possible contributor to the crankiness could be the stifling hot sauna of a room he sleeps in).

Installing the A/C is a 2-person job (why are they so darn heavy?), so Chris put Zachary in his crib while we worked. Of course, Zachary started crying. Meanwhile, we realized that we need something to secure the window sash, since it is the only thing keeping the A/C unit from falling out of the window. So Chris ran out to the garage to get some wood while I held the A/C unit in the window. At this point, Zachary had escalated his crying to a full blood-curdling scream. I thought that Chris was just getting the wood, but when he didn't return, I realized that he planned to cut it as well...while I was kneeling at the window, keeping a 50lb A/C unit from falling out and trying to comfort my screaming baby from across the room.

I yelled for Chris but he didn't hear me. So I yanked the A/C back into the room (scraping up my arms in the process) and put it on the floor so that I could pick up Zachary. As I tried to comfort Zachary, Chris came back upstairs and put the A/C back in the window so that we could measure the size of window jam we need. Unfortunately, he grabbed the A/C around the back, where it is covered with a razor-sharp screen. He nearly dropped the A/C out the window, he was bleeding all over the floor of the nursery, and the baby was still screaming his head off.

30 frazzled minutes later, Zachary was in bed for the night (with the air cooler from A-mah to keep his room comfortable), Chris' fingers were bandaged up, and I had scraped up arms and a massive headache. What a day.

Today is the first day of my new life!

Or is the the last day of my old life? I don't think either is accurate, because my "old" life ended back when I found out that I was pregnant and my "new" life is still being defined. And trust me, I'm as surprised as anyone to find out how things are turning out!

In honor of my last day of work, of course I had to push things to the limit and stay up most of the night to get things wrapped up. I never had a chance to go into the office to pack up my desk because of Zachary (it's amazing how hard it is to get anything done when you have a baby who 1. has a meltdown if he doesn't get his naps; 2. refuses to nap anywhere but in his crib; 3. eats solid meals twice a day, which must be timed in order to not interfere with nursing; and 4. is no longer content to hang out by himself). So last night, I went into the office in the middle of the night to make my last free latte and pack up my desk. I made it home at 2:30 AM, giving me just enough time to change, crawl into bed, and barely fall asleep before getting up at 3:15 AM to nurse Zachary.

So I've packed up my desk, cleared off my laptop, and moved all of my work clothes to the back of the closet. Now what? Now that I'm an official SAHM, am I going to turn into Polly Homemaker, like the picture above? I seriously doubt it. Even though I have (somewhat uncharacteristically) decided to step off the career track for a while in order to focus on being a mom, I am still the same person. I may not be tracking projects or implementing systems, but I'm probably going to find some reason to put together a few spreadsheets or do a bit of coding. Because, contrary to what a sane person may think, that is fun for me.

I've been thinking about the various nicknames that I've received at work over the years. Never have I been dubbed "Mom" or "Mother Hen" or "Den Mother" or anything nurturing and maternal like that*. No, I'm "Matrix Queen", "Super Devil's Advocate", "Rock of Skepticism", "Gattaca", and "Pays Very Close Attention to Detail (aka Anal Retentive)", to name a few. And I have to admit, one of the best compliments I've received from a superior was, "B*tch suits you -- you should do it more often."

So no, as much as I adore my baby and love being a mom, I don't think I have it in me to become June Cleaver. My version of SAHM is going to be much closer to the following image, courtesy of my neighborhood mommy networking group. Instead of "Hi Honey", I tend more towards "Hiiii-YA!"

*Actually, I do have one nickname that could be construed as being nurturing: "Coach". But it wasn't given to me in the context of anything remotely maternal.

This post is brought to you by Chris

I used to joke about wanting to find a job where I would get paid to do the things I like to do: write my blogs, take pictures, go on hikes, read everything from classics to trashy gossip, make photo books, play with Zachary, bother Cowboy, eat noodles, etc. I would enjoy myself, and my happiness would bring a bit more cheer to the world in general. I mean, who can deny that we need more cheer in this world?

Although I haven't found a job like that, I've realized that I've got a close approximation: a sponsor*. My new SAH life is being sponsored by Chris. What a guy! I wonder if I'll have to start wearing his name on my clothing, the way Tiger Woods wears Nike.

*I bet some of you thought I was going to say "sugar daddy". If I had a sugar daddy, I would be directing my nanny to load my Bugaboo into the back of my Lexus RX as I head to the spa for my weekly facial and massage while said nanny takes Zachary for a walk. Instead, I am lugging Zachary in his car seat out to my VW so that I can run to Safeway to pick up some groceries for my WmD alter ego. And I'm happy as a clam.

Baptizing babyhill

I'm excited to announce that we've arranged Zachary's baptism! It's taken us a bit longer than expected, because we had to work with two different churches and figure out some tricky logistics in order to make it happen. But it's all worked out, and we'll be flying back to PA at the end of June to have Zachary baptized at Covenant Presbyterian Church in Sharon. My grandmother was a lifelong member there, and I was baptized there many many eons ago. It will be really special, because my dad and our PA family will be there, and hopefully my brother Jim will be able to make it as well! Unfortunately, Zachary's godparents (Margaret and Todd) won't be able to attend, but they're still on the hook to be his moral guardians.

As we were figuring things out between Covenant and our church, a pastor at our church mentioned how baptism includes the congregation. He said, "You will have a congregation of 1200 ready to support and help you!" I asked, "Do they babysit?"

I took Shop instead of Home Ec

In the spirit of Mariah Carey's latest album, E=MC² (it stands for Emancipation = Mariah Carey 2), and to honor the proud Seattle tradition of appropriating a common three-letter acronym to mean something else (PSA = Pine Street Annex, obviously), I've decided to embrace the title "WmD". It means "Wenmei, Domesticated". That's me, the domestic diva.

Hah! Anyone who knows me well is probably rolling on the floor laughing right now. Although I have my moments of domesticity (like when I went on a hat-knitting frenzy two winters ago and knitted a hat a day for several weeks), I'm not exactly known for my flare on the home front. Instead, I've been known to eat the same meal every night for a month (could be noodles, or avocado & cucumber sandwiches, or a bowl of Cheerios), and our refrigerator tends to be stocked with beer and yogurt rather than actual food.

But now that I'm cooking for Zachary (I've read way too many books like "The Omnivore's Dilemma" and therefore will not allow anything that has the slightest possibility of being processed or of containing non-organic ingredients pass through the lips of my precious baby boy), I've started cooking for us as well. Although I'm not as picky about organic for us, considering how much it costs and the fact that we are now living on a single salary.

I wish I had "before" pictures of our refrigerator. To give you an idea, when you opened the door you could hear crickets chirping. And you could watch them sip beer and lick up yogurt in the vast, nearly empty tundra. But look now! There's food in there! And not a single box of take-out! Instead, there are bowls of various homemade dishes, as well as actual staples like eggs and milk!

OK, this might not be that impressive to you, but you didn't see the refrigerator before.

I'm including a couple pictures of our kitchen as well, giving further proof of this new WmD. There are not one, but two pots cooking merrily away on the stove, fresh fruits and veggies on the counters, and did you notice the plate of homemade red velvet cupcakes? And I'm adding a picture of the peaches I blanched for Zachary's food, just because they are pretty.



And yes, I do recognize the incongruity of the fact that I insist on organic homemade foods for Zachary even though he spends the vast majority of his day sticking things such as Chris' phone, my slipper, and Cowboy's tail in his mouth.

"Yaaaaaay!"

I finally got to see Avenue Q!! I've been listening to the soundtrack for over 3 years, but I could never manage to schedule things in order to see the show (it was only in NYC and Vegas for a long time). When I found out they were coming to Seattle, I was online buying tickets the moment they went on sale. Not that I was worried they'd sell out -- it's a musical featuring puppets, after all. I'm just a musical groupie like that. I would have set up my lawn chair and waited on the sidewalk in front of the Paramount for the box office to open, if that were necessary.

Now that I've seen the show, I can't stop grinning. Or singing. Or dancing around. Or giggling. It was fabulous. I loved it all. Including the Bad Idea Bears, pictured.

And yes, I yelled "George Bush!" during the final song and startled Chris. I don't think he was expecting me to yell. At least, not during the show.

SAHM I am

I've recently made a big decision. After 7 years of college and grad school, followed by 11 years of full-time professional work, I've decided to quit my job in order to stay home and raise Zachary for a while. It's been a really tough decision, because I've always been very career-focused and driven to achieve professional success. The thought that I'd leave it all to raise my child was laughable to me a few years ago, but things changed once I had Zachary. My focus sharpened, my priorities shifted, and my perspective changed.

The perspective is the thing that has been most interesting to me, because my perspective on things has gotten both narrower and wider. No longer do I think in terms of next month's deadline or next year's project roll-out. I think about this afternoon's nap and tomorrow's new solid food introduction. At the same time, I think about how the two years it takes to deploy one enterprise-wide project is the same two years that it will take for my son to grow from a helpless newborn to a walking, talking toddler.

Looking at things that way makes me realize that taking a few years off now is only a drop in the bucket professionally, but it's a huge investment in my baby's (and my) life. In a few years (or a few months -- who knows how things will go) I can always go back to work. But I can't look back five years from now and say, "Oh, I think I'd rather be home with Zachary to watch and help him grow." And I have serious doubts that I would feel as fulfilled by systems and processes I deploy as I will by the things I'll learn from and teach to my son as he discovers his world.

So, starting on June 21st (the first day of summer, the first day of this next phase of life), I will officially be a SAHM: stay-at-home-mom. I have a lot of thoughts about this as I'm working through things, and I'll probably be posting them here.

A wonderful part of this has been the amazing support I've gotten from my friends and family. To a person, each one has said, "Congratulations!" when I tell them. One in particular said something that I really appreciate: "Finally, you're going to put that MIT education to good use." Thanks, Mike. That's how I feel too.

Oh, by the way, I got a haircut. I always seem to do that when I'm about to embark on something new (as anyone who has witnessed me hacking off 12+ inches of hair after every graduation, break-up, or new job can attest to). At least I didn't get anything pierced this time.

Remedial shopping

Another thing I've discovered I've lost over the course of the past year (other than belly tone and bladder control) is the ability to shop for myself. It's been so long since I've purchased myself anything that isn't related to pregnancy or momhood, I don't know how to do it. I wander aimlessly through stores, randomly touching shiny or soft fabrics but never taking anything seriously. I might pick things up, try them on, even carry them around the store for awhile, but eventually I put them back. I think I need a shopping refresher course.

And a good day to you too, sir

Today Holly and I took the boys for a walk on the Burke Gilman trail. As we were walking side-by-side with our strollers on the right half of the trail, a cyclist whizzed past us on the left. He said (none too nicely, I might add), "Don't take up the whole path, breeders."

We spent the rest of the walk calling one another "breeder".

Straight up

One of the residual effects of pregnancy has been that I don't know how to stand (or sit) straight. My posture is horrible. I'm either completely hunched over (as if I'm carrying a baby in my arms) or hyper-extended backwards (as if I'm carrying a baby in my belly). I don't even know where my center line is anymore. Maybe I should invest in one of those yoga ball chairs -- that will force me to sit correctly, won't it? Either that, or I will constantly fall off my chair at work, which would at least provide some comic relief to my coworkers.

Overheard at Tar-jay

"This vest is mad fly, yo."

- 20-something hipster guy talking on his cell phone while waiting in line to purchase said vest

Spring tulips

This year, the tulips have been amazing! Our front garden is wild with them, and they are enormous and gorgeous. It's really a shame that they bloom so quickly and then are gone for the rest of the year.

As I've written before on this blog, tulips are my favorite flower. I mention it pretty much every time Chris gets me a bouquet of tulips for a special occasion. Have I also mentioned that my engagement ring is a Tulipset mounting? He's a good guy, that Chris.

I have lots of pictures of our tulips (including our failed attempts at having Zachary tiptoe through them), but I don't have time to post them right now. Here's a teaser to whet your appetite:

Chris is a very happy man

Holy cow...

...pun intended.

At work, I've been frequenting one of the "New Mothers Rooms" (they used to be called "Lactation Rooms"...I wonder why they changed the name?). These rooms are great. They are set up with several lactation stations (is that like "Conjunction Junction"?) -- private areas equipped with a comfy chair, a small table, a pump, a timer/clock, and trashy magazines. The room itself has a sink, storage cabinets, and a refrigerator. It's a surprisingly popular place; there has only been one time that I've been in there alone.

To use the pumps, you bring in your own accessory set (tubing, bottles, etc.) and hook up. For the last two weeks, I've been using a set with a broken valve. It works, but not very well. Today I brought in the (unbroken) accessories from my pump at home...and WOW. These pumps rock. Talk about industrial-grade action! What would normally take me about 20-30 minutes (spread out over two sessions) took me less than 10 minutes!

Speaking of pumping (and who would've thought I'd ever spend an entire post talking about it), I saw a blog tagline that always makes me laugh. "I pump, therefore I am. Tired." Amen.

I'm concerned

Maybe I'm just a paranoid mama, but I'm a little concerned about the changes we are about to make. Zachary starts daycare on Monday, and my stomach is twisted up into a huge knot. I know I'm going to cry again. And here I thought I was already over that "back to work" hurdle.

Taking care, of my: organism;

My daily horoscope for today:

"If you're suffering from some sort of disorder, don't abuse sedative or soporific drugs: your organism could be completely upset; above all, avoid self-medication, which is always dangerous."

My thoughts on my daily horoscope:

• What is a soporific drug? How is it different from a sedative?
• If I'm not suffering from a disorder, does that mean I can abuse them?
• Is there a reason the word "abuse" is used? Does this mean that I can use soporific drugs (disorder notwithstanding) as long as I don't abuse them?
• Which organism specifically will be upset?
• By "upset", do you mean angry? Or unsettled? Off-balance? Tipped over?
• Do you get points for every punctuation mark you use?
• Double points for less popular punctuation like colons and semi-colons?

1 down, 54 to go

Today marks the first home game of a very very long baseball season.

I don't really have a problem with baseball itself, but the impact that the home games have on my non-baseball-game-attending weekdays (otherwise known as "work days") annoys me. My office is a couple blocks south of Safeco Field, and the only way to get home is to drive right past the stadium. There are 55 weekday home games this season (plus another 26 weekend games), so that means there are 55 times between now and the end of September that I will have to adjust my schedule so that I don't get caught in game day traffic.

55 weekday home games. I mean, c'mon. Isn't that a bit ridiculous? I didn't even count the away games. Once I got to 81 home games, I was too tired to think about the rest of them. I can't imagine how tiring it must be to be a fan -- to get all worked up over each game, 162 times. Or maybe getting "worked up" isn't part of baseball fandom?

Target Salad, maybe you can explain it to me.

We interrupt this blog for an important message

Note: The following message was copied directly from babyhill because I'm too lazy to type a new one.

I just wanted to let you know that I've updated the layout of this blog to remove the slide show that was displayed at the top of the page. It was too much of a hassle to maintain, so I decided to go with the simpler one-image slide show now displayed at the top of the left column. The new slide show will automatically show the most recent pictures posted to flickr.

I'll now return you to your regularly scheduled blog...

Crushingly cute

How in the world am I supposed to work when I know that this little guy is waiting at home for me??

Me vs Me

Going back to work has been very interesting for me. Granted, I've only been back for three half-days, so maybe it's a bit premature for me to be ruminating about it. But I'm gonna ruminate anyway.

The "Me" I used to know was quite well-defined. I behaved, listened to my parents, went to the right schools, got the right jobs. For the past decade, I've been living the life of a supposedly well-adjusted, upwardly-mobile, independent, self-reliant, and somewhat balanced and successful woman. I managed to build a fulfilling career while still finding a great guy to marry and with whom to settle down. I had the job, husband, dog, house, friends...all I needed to make it complete was a baby.

Now I have a baby, and I still have all of those other things. But they don't fit together quite as easily as I thought they might. I knew that my life would be different once Z was born, but I wasn't prepared for how dramatically my perspective (and my priorities) would change. At first it was really hard, because I was holding so tightly to that old Me. But once I relaxed and settled into the new Me, I found that I'm pretty happy with it.

So now I'm back at work, and I'm struggling between the old and new Me again. At one level, it's really strange how quickly I can fall back into my old role. But then I'm constantly pulled back into the awareness that I'm not that person anymore. All of a sudden, the urgency and energy of work doesn't feel that real to me anymore. What is real is loving, protecting, and raising my child.

As a woman who at one time could barely see herself having children, I'm now finding it hard to think that there is anything as important as being a mom. But I can also feel the pull of the old Me, the Me who facilitates meetings, presents to execs, challenges consultants. Right now, the old Me is just a wisp of a shadow, lurking around in the background. And I wonder if the shadow will grow or wane as time goes on.

It will be interesting to see how this all turns out.

Working mom

I am now officially a working mom. I survived my first day pretty well, I think. I only cried 4 times, and those were all before 10 AM. (I also cried twice this evening and once last night, but we won't talk about that.) I actually found that I was OK unless someone asked me if I was OK. I'd think, "Yeah" but I'd say, "Waaaaaa!"

I also found out today that we got a spot at the daycare at my work! This would have been AMAZING news four days ago, but today it's kind of bittersweet. Overall, it's the best thing for us because it will mean that Z will be downstairs and I can go visit/nurse/snuggle him whenever I want to. It also gives me a bit more flexibility with my schedule and it sets us up for if/when I go back to work full-time (yes, I cried that much today and I only worked a half day). But it's bittersweet because we love our nanny and we're really sorry to have to let her go. I will recommend her to anyone who is looking for a nanny, because she really is a gem.

Tonight was also the inaugural night of Wine, Dine & Opine (I just made up that name). Jen, Lara, Dawn, Margaret, Missy and I met at Cathy's to eat, drink and discuss immigration reform. We had a really enjoyable evening and I already feel smarter.

I'm having trouble writing tonight. I'm tired and a bit worn out from the stress of the last couple of weeks, so my writing is very fragmented. I can't think of a good closing sentence for this post, so this is going to have to do. Good night!

Who am I kidding?

So I thought that I was handling this whole "going back to work" thing pretty well. I wasn't feeling too anxious about it, but I think that's only because I was so stressed out about finding childcare and getting Z to take a bottle that I didn't have the time or energy to be anxious about anything else. Now that we found our super nanny and she was successful in giving Z a bottle, I have ALL THIS ROOM in my brain to freak out about going to work, leaving Zachary with someone else, maybe even missing a minute or two of his babyhood! I feel like I'm back on the roller coaster of emotions I was riding after Zachary was born (hello, baby blues!). I keep trying to tell myself to "just breathe", but then my mind jumps to "breathe like we do in yoga" and then to "I can't go to mom & baby yoga anymore because I'll be AT WORK!" and then I'm right back where I started. And all of this anxiety is simply over the idea of leaving my baby for a few hours a day...I haven't even begun to ponder the idea of having to be productive at work again.

It's all good now

So everything seems to be working out again! We found a great nanny, and she came over this morning to help me watch Zachary so that she can get an idea of his routine. She was also able to give him a bottle, and he drank the whole thing! I'm so relieved, even though my emotions are still all over the board regarding my return to work on Monday....

Not a good day

Childcare? Nope. Bottle? Nope.

Stressed to the nines? Absolutely.

Good day

We may have found childcare! And after trying 3 different types of bottles with 7 different types of nipples, Zachary actually drank 1-1/2 oz! It's not a lot, but it's a start.

It's been a good day!

The real world

The real world is creeping back in and I must say, I don't like it one bit.

My maternity leave is due to end next week. This is enough to give me a fair amount of stress (I don't get to spend all day with my baby? Someone else is going to be with him??). To add to it, the childcare that I was sort of counting on fell through yesterday. And Zachary is refusing to take a bottle. So now we have a baby without childcare who refuses to eat from a bottle, and I'm supposed to go back to work in a week. Hmph.

I can't help but think that all of these issues would cease to exist if I didn't go back to work.

I'm going to call it "Fido"

My favorite line (so far) in Anne Lamott's "Operating Instructions" (she's talking about her post-baby belly):

"When I lie on my side in bed, my stomach lies politely beside me, like a puppy."

Photo-frenzy and blog-a-rama

I'm still trying to figure out the best way to manage my pictures. I'm posting in three different places right now (see below for descriptions) and it's getting confusing.

It was much easier when I only had one blog and I organized all of my pictures by event. But since Zachary was born, I take a lot more pictures (believe it or not) and the vast majority are event-less, unless you consider things like "drooling" and "sitting in his rocker" to be events. So for Zachary's pictures, I've been organizing the sets by date and posting them to his blog. I post the rest of my event-based or non-Zachary-centric pictures here on this blog.

The problem is when I have pictures of events (such as the baby class reunion) that include pictures of Zachary. Do I post them here or on Zachary's blog? And regardless of where I post them, will people be able to find them if they are scattered across two blogs? And I haven't even factored in the third blog yet.

Hmmmm...gotta think on this one a bit longer.

Here's a run-down of the three blogs, if you're curious:

wenmei

My blog. I started it in 2005, though I did maintain a couple of other sites prior to that (our wedding site in 2005 and my photos from 1999-2004, both of which can be accessed from wenmei). This is my catch-all blog, covering everything from events to pictures to my random thoughts. (By the way, if you click on the links to "wenmei" you won't go anywhere...you're already on that page.)

babyhill

Zachary's blog. This started off as my pregnancy blog, which I spun off from my main blog in order to spare people the details of my transformation into mommy-hood (unless they were interested). It then became my baby blog once Zachary was born. In January, however, Zachary took over the blog so that he could speak for himself. This is where he posts about his activities and where I post his weekly picture sets.

mamarazza

Picture blog. This is my newest blog, and it doesn't contain any text. I wanted a place to post pictures that I like without having to include a description. Right now it only has pictures of Zachary, but it will likely expand to include more. I may use this as the central repository for all of my pictures (and move them off of wenmei and babyhill), but I haven't figured out an elegant way to do that without over-complicating mamarazza.

Oh yeah, speaking of pictures, I've posted a new set to flickr: Misc February pictures

Should I be worried?

Yesterday afternoon, I took Cowboy and Zachary for a walk around the neighborhood after a long day filled with the soothing sounds of a screaming baby. It was my last resort -- I'd tried everything to get Zachary to take a nap (poor guy was exhausted but refused to sleep) so I finally decided that a rainy walk in the Babyhawk was going to have to work. Even if Zachary didn't stop crying, at least Cowboy and I would get some fresh air.

I made it down the street and halfway around the block when I realized that I felt a lot of air on my legs, so I looked down to make sure I was wearing pants. I was -- they were just baggy and made of a really light material so the wind was cutting through them pretty easily.

Should I be concerned about the fact that it took me over a block to check if I was wearing pants? Or should I be more concerned that this is even an issue?

Le gourmand

I listen to Sirius satellite radio in the car, and I often hear a commercial for Rosetta Stone language software. A man describes a visit to a French restaurant, where he impresses his friends by ordering in French. He says something along the lines of, "When the waiter came, I said, 'Je voudrais le poulet et le riz'."

Every time I hear that, I can't help but think, "You go to a French restaurant and you order chicken and rice??"

mamarazza

I'm making some changes in my blogging efforts, but I haven't quite nailed down what I want to do yet. I don't like having two separate streams of photos because it's too hard to figure out where to post which pictures (should the one of Zachary and Cowboy be on this blog or baby-hill...?). Plus I want to have a place where I can just post pictures for the sake of posting pictures.

So I started yet ANOTHER blog (it seems ironic that, in order to simplify my blogs, I'm adding another one to the list):

m a m a r a z z a

It's where I am posting my favorite pictures as I take them. I may move all of my pictures over there eventually.

"Mamarazza" (pronounced "ma-ma-rat'za") is a word that I thought I invented, but it turns out that I'm not as clever as I think I am. I came up with it because so many of my friends call me the "paparazzi" due to my picture-taking addiction. Since I am now a mama and I am female (those two tend to go hand-in-hand), I figured "mamarazza" would be a good twist on "paparazzi".

Quick Italian lesson: "Paparazzi" is the plural form of "paparazzo". "Paparazzo" is masculine, as it ends in an "o". The female form would end in an "a", as in "paparazza". But I'm a mama, not a papa...so "mamarazza" is born.

However, "mamarazza" has already been coined by Marianne Fürstin zu Sayn-Wittgenstein-Sayn. As she is an Austrian princess, accomplished photographer, and already has an impressively long name of her own, I hope she doesn't mind if I use "mamarazza" as well.