A Mixed Bag

It's been awhile since my last post, but for good reason...I've been busy! Really, I have been. I took the Little Miss with me to see the D.C. area family, as most of them had not yet met her. I was SO excited about this trip, and had been waiting for it for quite awhile.

But nothing ever really goes exactly the way you want it to. Just days before I arrived, I found out that an old friend from high school had been arrested for inappropriate sexual conduct with two of his middle school students (he's a teacher). That completely floored me, because I've only known him as a kind, funny and smart guy. I'm torn by the dualing notions that he could have actually done what they're saying he did, and that he's actually innocent of all charges but will be forever dogged by this accusation. Needless to say, this news has been on my mind ever since and followed me on my trip back to my childhood home.

Having said that, I had a wonderful trip. I flew into DCA and was picked up by my brother, who took me back to his house in Maryland for the weekend. Evidently, my two-year old nephew had been singing a steady chorus of "Where my Bry-ny?" the entire week prior to our arrival, and so he immediately met us at the door when we arrived home. He smiled an adorable mix of shyness and excitement when I got out of the car and retrieved the baby from her car seat. Over the weekend, his song quickly progressed to variations such as "Can I hold my Bry-ny?" and "Food for my Bry-ny!" as he tried to pass a handful of goldfish crackers to her. At one point he tried to play bongos on her head, but not in a mean way; I think he just wanted to show her the love. It was all very cute, and we were sad to leave him on Sunday. He poked him lip out and copped an attitude, but I gave him a swift kiss and promised to visit again. My brother says that his son has asked about "My Bry-ny" everyday since we've left. My heart is full.

Sunday, my mother picked up Bryony and me and took us back to Virginia to visit with her and my sister and brother-in-law. I was fortunate to visit with a couple of my best pals from high school during the week I was in town. Having my friends and family meet my new little baby was a really mind-altering thing; I kept thinking how surreal it was to be a mum, and to introduce my daughter to the people I've known longest and love most. My mum and sister absolutely adored Bryony, and basically gave me the break that I needed, because they held her and took care of her for me for the duration of the visit. Even Uncle Jake held her once! It was pretty hard to say good-bye at the airport yesterday, knowing that the next time we all see each other Bryony will no longer be a newborn. It's strange how a baby's growth is a clear indicator of the passage of time.

Adam picked us up last night, only to leave this morning for a weekend trip away with the military. I was sad to see him go, mostly because he only had a few hours with Bryony before they were separated again. He kept kissing her forehead, so I know he was a little sad, too. Once he's back in town, they'll only have a couple weeks together before Adam hits the road down to Georgia; we're not sure yet how long it will be before he comes back to help us girls move with the furry kids.

Oh yeah, Greg House ran out of the house today (normal) but hasn't come home all day (not normal). I'm starting to get a bit worried. That cat annoys me to high hell, but I don't want anything bad to happen to him...and I kinda want him to come home.

This morning I opened my Facebook account and read my e-mail. Turns out one of the volunteers who supported the Walk & Bike Lansing Complete Streets Ordinance was hit and killed by a pickup truck while riding his bike this week. I didn't know him but knew who he was and I'm feeling pretty sad. There is a memorial ride for him tonight around town. For those of us who can't ride, we'll be standing a vigilance along the road as the bikers pass. Bryony and I need to get out of the house--it's been raining and cool all day--as we've pretty much slept the entire day away. I guess our travels took more out of us than we knew.

But some things are still good...I've got a nice cup of ginger tea, a sweet old terrier, and a beautiful baby to keep me warm.

What Keeps Us Laughing...Funny Or Not

Last night we rented "There Will Be Blood", starring Daniel Day-Lewis. This is one of those unbelievably good films, where you can totally understand why the actor received the Academy Award. We have been talking about this film sporatically today, and then just rehashed it again around the table with friends tonight. I highly recommend it.

While the entire film is fantastic--dark, serious and rich in character and story development--Adam and I found the last 20 minutes to be off-putting and unsettling. It's almost as if during the last bit of shooting, John Waters stepped in to give the director a break. The movie turns into a dark comedy, so you're laughing, but feeling guilty for doing so, and then feeling a little grossed out. Adam and I kept looking at each other, like "Did that really just happen??"

In particular, there's a big confrontational scene between two of the major characters, and the line "Bastard in a basket!" is chanted over and over. It was really hateful and awful, and I just couldn't believe the scene in which it was uttered. Later, a good half hour after the movie ended, Adam was out on our front porch, watching a thunderstorm roll in. I joined him on the porch, only to have him start snickering, then laughing soon after. When I looked at him for a explanation, he immediately came out with, "Bastard in a basket!" then collapsed into laughter. I couldn't help myself and started laughing, too, even though it really wasn't very funny. But that was what made it even funnier--trying not to laugh at something that wasn't funny. From there, we started associating this line with other familiar movie lines--"She puts the lotion in the basket..." (don't tell me you don't know this movie reference!)

We're a lost cause. I'm sure it's got something to do with being home with an infant all day long; even the littlest things give us the giggles. Not surprisingly, round table discussion with our friends tonight entered the forays of explosive poo, projectile breast milk, and teasing about homoerotic attractions to each other, to name a few. Granted, these are often our typical topics of discussion, baby or no baby. But I'm beginning to think we're getting to be a bit more hopeless.

Need A Laugh Today?

I'm being a little lazy today...spending time cleaning the house, uploading pix of Bryony to Facebook, and generally taking it easy before Adam comes back home tomorrow evening. However, if you're looking for a good laugh (for a REALLY good laugh, I should say), take a gander to Jess Riley's website. This story is just one of those shake-your-head-incredulously-while-laughing-your-arse-off stories. You'll still be laughing a few days from now. I am.

Portrait Of A Lady

Two weekends ago, after meeting with a friend at a bookstore cafe for tea, I was approached by a stranger. I'd noticed this woman staring at me the entire time I was visiting with my friend, but assumed she'd just been admiring Bryony. With her mass of dark curls, Bryony often attracts a lot of attention, so I've been slowly getting used to it. After bidding my friend good-bye and leaving the cafe, I found myself engrossed in the clearance sale books in the bookstore foyer. It was then that the woman approached me.

"Excuse me, can I talk to you?" She walked up to where I was standing, and I recognized her as the woman from inside the cafe.

"Sure" I responded, not sure at all where this was headed.

"Well, you see, I was sketching your portrait in the cafe, but then you got up and left" she hurriedly explained, before rushing on, "here, this is the picture I was sketching of you...you're really stunning!" She showed me the rough sketch she'd drawn of me, and I noticed handwritten remarks underneath--Darn! I was sketching this woman and then she left before I had the chance to finish!

I hated to think that I actually looked like her sketch; there was absolutely nothing "stunning" about me at all. I smiled in spite of myself--a compliment is a compliment after all--but I couldn't quite believe it, as much as I wanted to. There had to be a hook.

"Let me show you my card, I'm an artist" the woman said as she rummaged through her bag for a business card. "We artists often have to identify ourselves because we come across so weird!"

After quickly examining her business card, I felt myself letting down my guard a bit. I smiled. "Nice to meet you."

The woman introduced herself as Barb, and said that she was in town for the birth of her first grandchild. "I live in Boston, but I'm here waiting for that baby to be born!" she said as she gazed down at Bryony, who was lazily observing the entire exchange. I congratulated her on soon becoming a grandmother and then stood there, a little uncomfortable, as she got to the point.

"Do you mind if I take your picture? I'd like to finish the sketch, and I could e-mail you with the finished product, free of charge of course!" She looked at me hopefully.

I was taken aback by all this. Why was this woman sketching me of all people? I know I could be classified as cute or maybe attractive, but stunning? Come on! I am definitely not the type of woman that artists choose to sketch...and certainly not the type that they hunt down in order to finish the portrait.

"Sure" I replied, incredulously. Immediately, she ran out of the store, calling out to an unseen person to get her camera from the car. At this point, I was so self-conscious and embarassed that I tried to delve back into the clearance sale cookbooks I'd been eyeing earlier. But she was back before I knew it, and started clicking away. I didn't know whether to smile or not, so I tried to think of what I must've looked like when she was originally sketching me...what I must've looked like when I was unaware I was being sketched. Customers were walking in and out of the store, staring as Barb snapped away at me from different angles. I wanted to take Bryony and run for the car, but the other part of me felt a great respect for her as an artist. I used to sketch a lot when I was younger, and so it was really an honor (on some level) to serve as a model for a real, professional artist.

After she was finished taking pictures of me, she asked if she could take a few of Bryony. At this point, my guard was down and the idea that I might get a free sketch of my baby was incentive enough. "Sure!" I replied for the millionth time.

Once she was finished, I gave her my e-mail address and she thanked me, saying that it might be awhile before she was back in Boston and able to post anything to her website. "I'm not going anywhere until my daughter has that baby!"

As soon as I got home, I told Adam about this strange encounter. Later that night, I went online to see her website. After seeing her sketches, I'm now REALLY hoping that she not only finishes the one of me, but also does one of Bryony. I'd love to have a decent print of it to hang up in her room.

If you want to check out the artist's site, her name is Barb Bromley. Maybe one day soon she'll post a sketch of my stunning self up there...or maybe that of my beautiful baby. I'd be okay with that.

Zzzzzz...Ewww...Haaaa!!!...Yeay!!!...silent sadness...

Last night Lansing was hit by a series of severe thunderstorms, which this area has been waiting for for several days now. Well, I'll rephrase--I've been waiting for these storms now that I've planted a late-season vegetable garden and really want to get it moving. All yesterday evening the threat of rain persisted, but it didn't really get started until right before bed last night. Adam said there was some pretty powerful thunder in the early morning hours, which I missed while sleeping between nursing Bryony. We all ended up staying in bed far later than normal--Adam brought me "breakfast in bed" at 1pm--but it was such a good day to just sleep in, so I did.

Right now Adam is reading "The Last Days of Krypton", someone's idea of what happened to Superman's home planet, to Bryony. He's been reading this to her all day--on the couch, in bed, and now in the rocking chair in her room. It's very cute, and I have to give him credit, she hasn't cried at all since she's been read to. Either she really likes books or she's going to be a total comic book geek like her dad. A few minutes ago, she took a major explosive poo in her diaper, which evidently interrupted Adam's reading session. I heard him exclaim "Ewwwww!" when he opened her dirty diaper, followed by "What are you eating, little girl???"

A couple nights ago, I heard the funniest story that I've heard in a long time. Our friends were over for dinner, and the husband was recounting a recent visit he'd made where he'd encountered two guys, one of whom was on the (very) heavy side. The two guys got into a play tussle, and the one guy grabbed the fat roll on the back of the large guy's head, and said, "This feels like a package of Ball Park hot dogs...do they plump if I squeeze 'em???" I guess the story is a lot funnier if you know that the fat guy is a prisoner, the guy grabbing is a security guard, and things at the prison are lax enough for guards and prisoners to hang out and play wrestle with each other. I guess this should be worrisome instead of funny, but I'm still laughing everytime I think of it.

I just booked my ticket to see my family in the D.C. area in a couple weeks. I'm super excited to bring the little girl with me so she can meet her aunts, uncles, cousin, and see her Grandma again. Even better, the lady at American Airlines said that the diaper bag doesn't count as one of my carry-on luggage pieces (yeah!). Even better better, I was able to use airline miles I've accumulated on my credit card over the last 10 years, so this flight only cost me $60 in taxes and fees.

Last night, Adam and I finally got around to watching the movie that we've had lying around the house the last few days, "Into the Wild." This is the true story of Chris McCandless, the young 20-something who, in 1990 after graduating college, donated the $24,000from his trust fund to a charity, hitch-hiked across the U.S. and made it to Alaska, where he lived his dream of escaping into the wilderness. He survived for four months (without a map,compass or any contact with the outside world) before dying of starvation due to his misidentifying an inedible plant and consequently being poisoned. The movie was really good, and was made under the supervision of his family, so it was a deeply personal account of their family dynamics in addition to the story of his trek across country, and the many interesting people he met and made an impression on (and made an impression on him). It's always strange to read a book or see a movie about someone who died; I always wonder what they would think about the way their life is portrayed by the director or how they would appreciate all the people who are interested in them now that they're dead. Thing is, Chris McCandless was really anti-establishment, anti-society, anti-material goods; how would he have felt about a big-budget movie being made about him? But then again, he was a 24 year old guy; he'd probably have thought it was cool.

Last night Adam thanked me for a wonderful date night (I cooked dinner and was responsible for the movie choice).
*content sigh*

The Big Lug

Here's the official photo of the Greenhouse Birth Center gang at the Lugnuts (minor league) baseball game a couple weeks back. It was Bryony's first baseball game, and we got to sit right in front for the picture because she was the youngest baby in our group! Adam is in the back of the shot, over my right shoulder and down a bit. The Lugnuts lost that day, but between the extreme heat, the cool rain conditions that followed, and being around our birth center friends, the day spent at the stadium was totally worth it. Click on the photo to see a larger version!

House in ObamaLand

Hmmm...where shall I begin? Lately, the day seems as though it's already over just minutes after it's begun. I can hardly keep up with all the activities and events that have occurred, and everyday has a way of melding right into the next. It's a bit discombobulating (SAT word).

Adam and I left last Thursday for an extended weekend trip to Chicago, our little New York City away from New York City. He had the annual American Bar Association meeting to attend; Bryony and I had the Shedd aquarium to attend. Additionally, two of his best friends from NYC flew in to meet up with us, which was nice since Adam doesn't get to see them very often.

I guess the most important part of this story, which I almost failed to mention, is that we decided to take the entire family with us to Chicago--Bryony (of course), Kika (of course)...and Gregory House. We'd never travelled a longish distance with a cat before, so I had a wee bit of trepidation about taking him along. However, Adam decided it was best for him to accompany the family, especially since we had paid extra money to allow pets in the hotel room, so...

...so, the cat howled and bit and scratched until I finally let him out of his carrier. He wouldn't settle on my lap, and I had to several times grab him before he walked right over the baby in her car seat. Greg House jumped into the back window, until he decided it was no longer interesting, then jumped onto the front passenger seat next to Kika (I was sitting in the back with the baby). A few times he curled up in Adam's lap, with me cringing at the thought of him distracting Adam's driving just enough to plow us head-on into a semi. I was ready to throw the cat out the window.

The hotelroom was nice, although we stayed about 25-30 minutes west of the city to save considerable coin. Normally I would not have minded, but since we had two furry kids to worry about, we made the drive back to the room with fear for what we might find. We had outfitted Kika with her doggy diaper, so while she did mess herself, none of it ruined hotel property. I just gave her a nice scrub down and all was well. Adam had brought Greg House's litter box so we assumed things were kosher on his end as well...(insert smug laughter).

Saturday evening we came back to the room to find that someone (Greg!) had crapped all over the white hotel linens on the bed. Like seriously crapped. It was nasty. Kika does not have the ability to jump on a low-lying couch anymore, let alone a tall pillowtop hotel mattress, so we knew Greg had to be the guilty party. We discovered later that actually he was ill and was also throwing up every few hours. Adam stripped the bed, got new linens, and we kept kitty away from the bed, the baby, and anything else that we didn't want stained with cat vomit or semi-solid poo.

Sunday, before leaving Chicago, we met up with one of Adam's army friends who lives in the area. He knew we were travelling with pets, so he purposely chose a restaurant with outdoor seating that is pet friendly. We put Kika and Greg on their respective leashes and had lunch. You wouldn't believe the amount of attention a cat on a leash will get. No one cared about my precious newborn baby; they all flocked over to see the sweet, well-behaved cat on the leash. Well-behaved my a--! House was totally eating it up, too. One little girl pretty much divorced her family, she was so willing to leave them to play with our cat. Had it been my choice, she could have taken him with her. I'm sure he'd really love living in Chicago...it's like Lansing, just bigger and on the other side of the lake. Who wouldn't like that?

On the way home, Greg, during one of his various romps around the car, stepped on top of the shade to Bryony's car seat, almost collapsing the shade on top of her head. I freaked out and threw the cat into the front seat, cursing and swearing and sputtering in the meantime. I almost punted him out the window.

Now we're back home and life is resuming the normal tempo we've come to rely on the last few months. Greg House has already vomited 3 times since we walked through the door last night. Oh yeah, and the muffler went out on my car right before we started the drive home. Sick, annoying cat in very loud car through extensive road construction that makes your joyride more than an hour longer...you do the math.