I have been quite the social butterfly of late.

Last weekend was the quilters' Christmas party, which was actually a bit of a shame because all subsequent parties will pale in comparison to this one. I can honestly say that I feel honoured to be part of a group of such funny, intelligent, and delightfully mad women.

This weekend is a family dinner one day & a cookie party at my house the next. I had planned to cook wonderful food & decorate the house & all that good stuff, but the "To do" list is diminishing steadily. I have shedloads of pies to bake for the family dinner & 120 cookies to bake for the party, so I'm not even going to cook. I probably spent $150 on food for the Halloween party, and that can buy a lot of pizza. I found a rug for the guest bathroom ($4 at Dollar General, thank you very much indeed) and if I can find some lights for the tree (I bought some, but the tree is white & the wires were green--doh!) and get a few presents wrapped, I'll be happy.

Saturday's snow gave way to freezing rain today, so I left work early with great intentions: tidy the house, wrap presents, do some quilting, etc. But I've done sweet FA except sit here drinking wine & reading journal entries from 2007 - 2008. Oh, I wrote a few Christmas cards & put away the shopping. That must count for something, right?

I was just nosing through my PC, looking for files I need to back up if I ever figure out how to get this sodding external hard drive to talk to my laptop, and I found a recipe for a sandwich I concocted one night in my flat in Highgate. The last sentence made me giggle.


Sandwich
Serves 2 or 4

2 slices bread
Butter
Mini chocolate chips
Tiptree strawberry jam

Smear the butter onto the bread (No, not both sides. How decadent do you think this is?). Toast under a grill until golden & crunchy, then turn it over & toast the other side. Sprinkle mini chocolate chips onto the buttered sides of the bread, then sandwich the slices together. Spread strawberry jam on top of the sandwich, wait a few seconds, then flip the top slice so the jam is inside & the chocolate chips are on the top. Smooth the melted chocolate over the top of the bread. Slice into halves and share with a mildly depressed friend, or slice into quarters and serve with small baggies of corresponding weight.

Will someone please explain why I will do just about anything to avoid doing something I must do, regardless of how pleasurable the necessary task is? I need to order some little Christmas gifts for my quilting group & I need to put together a wish list/shopping list for Isobel, but I just can't seem to get to it. The dishes needed putting away, baby photos needed uploading, old CS friends needed tracking down, I needed dinner, coupons needed clipping/organising, all the chocolate in the house needed eating, LJ needed updating, etc. Part of it is the sensible bit of me that objects to having to think of anything Christmas-related in November*, part is just enjoying having a few minutes of free time to do anything I want to do, and part, I suspect, is just sheer bloody-mindedness. I feel an awful lot like Bernard when he's trying to avoid doing his taxes though.

So, now that I'm here, what's been going on? James came to visit at the end of October, which was really great fun. It was good to see him, and I'm not sure who was most sorry to see him go: me, Mocha, or Isobel.

I hosted my first party here on the 25th in honour of Halloween, James's visit, and general housey stuff. I threw my back out moving my new Dillard-kea furniture (it's like Ikea, except you pick out what you like from the Ikea catalogue & Dillard builds it for you at a fraction of the price) the night before, but since I didn't need to be upstanding for the party, this was problematic for none but me. And the army of friends & family who jumped in to help me with all the last minute things I couldn't do, natch. Such a good day. I must do it again soon.

Otherwise, it's been pretty quiet here. I've developed an unhealthy addiction to quilting, which I pursue in the 10 minutes of the day when I'm not working, tidying, or mommying. My car is probably broken in the $400-500 range for the second time in as many months, and today I fired off my first irate email to a government official (I blame talk radio, sleep-deprivation, and probably the fact that I haven't had sex in a year, but seriously. If I'd wanted a Republican representative, I jolly well would've voted for one.)

Isobel, on the other hand, is excitement personified. Today she figured out how to roll all the way over (she could get from her back to her tummy but wasn't sure what to do next) and she's working on sitting unsupported. She can sort of scoot around, but she hasn't mastered "forward" yet. I took a series of photos today as she rolled away & then scooted backwards around the corner, which I will try to post tomorrow. Every day I love her more.

But now, I must sleep.

*I seriously think I'm on track for a psychotic break here. Whilst coming home tonight I spotted yet another house with Christmas decorations out & it took considerable willpower to keep from driving my car through them. Can I please get through sodding Thanksgiving before I'm assaulted by tacky Christmas decorations??

So, Babycenter sends me these helpful week-by-week emails about my child's development and, every now and then, a special-interest sort of email as well. Today's topic: Is my baby normal? Your top 30 questions answered.

So I click, and right there at the top is: Is it normal that my baby arches her back and throws herself backward when she's upset. Isobel does this & has done for about a month. I have always assumed it was normal, but now there's a question mark in my head. So...I click.

The full article can be found here, but my attention was drawn to one bit in particular: Many parents notice their children doing this somewhere around the nine-month mark. Sears says the trigger is emotional ("probably just the ability to become frustrated"), not physical.

With her growing perceptiveness, a 9-month-old can envision the way she wants things to be and feels angry when they don't go her way. You may never figure out what prompted your child to arch. It may be something as minuscule as you handing her the wrong toy or singing her the wrong song. (Emphasis mine.)

I really am in for it, aren't I?

But all things considered, things are going pretty well here. Back-arching aside, she really is a fabulous child. She started rolling over (back to tummy) a few weeks ago, which she seems to find simultaneously amusing and frustrating--she'll just lie there for a few minutes, playing with her toys or pushing herself up on her arms, & then start grumbling because she's not sure what to do next.

She's also jabbering a lot more now, which is good fun. She'll look at me all serious-like & then start chattering away. We have good talks, but I daresay she makes more sense than I do. A few consonant sounds have begun to appear--mostly "ba" and "ga." I am prepared to let her call me "baga" if necessary.

I've also noticed that her attention span is growing--and again, she probably has me beat here too. I bought her a couple of new books at the weekend & she sat through Rumpelstiltskin yesterday & King Midas today, listening intently & trying to "pick up" the pictures. She's also reaching for things with an open hand & using her fingers to examine her toys rather than just palming everything & shoving it into her gob--though she does plenty of that, too. Everything is just so delicious! I think we'll see some teeth before too long though. She leaks like...a leaky thing.

Anyway, that's enough of me. Here are some pictures before bed. She is ridiculously gorgeous, but it can't be helped.



( +4 more )

I went to another funeral today, this time for one of Mom's & my friends. I knew he'd been sick, but I saw him at E's birthday party a couple of months ago & he was so upbeat & optimistic. I guess sometimes you just never know.

And if it's possible to have a good funeral, this one was it. Apparently he'd said he wanted a party, so they had a memorial/silent auction/boozefest last night & the funeral service was this afternoon. The woman who led the service just talked about him & his life, and the way he affected the people around him. No hellfire, no brimstone, just happy memories.

A man with a guitar played "You've Got a Friend" by James Taylor, and everyone sang along with the chorus. His daughter read a poem & his granddaughter talked a bit about the things he taught her & experiences they shared. Two people read a verse from the Bible, we sang "Amazing Grace," and that was that.

Even the little booklet you get at the beginning--you know, the one that with "Footprints" on one side & "So & So died on Such & Such" on the other? His just said "He truly loved everyone."

And you know, I really think he did truly love everyone. I know that every time I spoke to him, he made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. There was a lot of talk today about how he always wanted to be in the moment, to really be present for his life, and I think I know what that means now. He was a good man & I was honoured to know him.

(See? That's how a funeral is supposed to be, and that's how people are supposed to feel after going to one--sad, yes, but not SSSSSAAAAADDDDD. When I die, someone please call a hippie to organise my shit.)

http://www.moodyfuneralservices.com/obituaries.php?page=0&op=view&id=2595

I have no words. Thankfully, Khalil Gibran got there first. Until about an hour ago it was Auden's "Funeral Blues," but I needed something more uplifting.

On Death
by Khalil Gibran

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Somebody stole my house!

It used to be at the end of the street on the right, so it's the big empty space on the bottom left of the screen.

And the thieves stole my grass as well, by the look of things. Nice of them to leave my driveway though...

(I jest.)

Isobel had her two-month jabs today. She was so good--only cried for 5 seconds, max, and stopped as soon as I picked her up. She's been fussy this afternoon though, poor sausage. I feel awful for putting her through it, but not as bad as I'd feel if she caught polio, diptheria, tetanus, whooping cough, rotovirus, meningitis, or hepatitis B though.

And she's now 24 inches long & just a smidgen under 13 pounds, and seems to be right on track (maybe even a bit clever) developmentally. How lucky to get a good one on the first go.

I am super-tired though, and I daresay I could sleep until tomorrow. Mmm, sleep.

Let's pretend you had a little window over your kitchen sink, and that you wanted to make a wee valance to go over said window. Let's further pretend that you were alarmed at the grown-up turn your decor is taking & wanted to kitsch things up a little.

Poll #1438064 Cupcakes vs cherries
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 10

Faced with the following options, which fabric would you choose?

Yesterday was my 5 week checkup & it turned into such a busy day that I am still super tired, so this will be quick.

I am pleased to report that the checkup went well. On the way in, Rachel asked what the purpose of the visit was. I joked that they wanted to check that everything was okay, that I wasn't suicidal/homicidal, and that nothing was falling out. Imagine my surprise when Dr M had a peek & announced "Looks good. Nothing's falling out!" I thought I was just being funny...

After the doctor, we bought some furniture (sofa & loveseat), had lunch, picked up the paint chips that I'd chosen & left in the store the night before, and went to the house to await delivery of aforementioned furniture. Diane came down later in the evening to help me with the paint selection, but unfortunately none of the colours I'd chosen matched the furniture I'd bought. She (and a cushion) went back to the hardware store & I took my exhausted baby, sister, and self home. We're going to meet later in the week so I can see what colours I'm painting my house. I hope I like them.

Today, none of us were good for much. Isobel & I slept until 10:30, got up long enough to eat breakfast & take a shower, then napped for most of the afternoon. She's sleeping now and I'm about to do the same, but I wanted to spam my journal with photos first. As always, photos link to albums:


Isobel - 4 weeks (continued)


Isobel - 5 weeks

I know I just bought a house, but I'm feeling crazy homesick for London right now. I'm listening to Adam & Joe on 6 Music, just like every Saturday morning in my flat whilst I had a cup of tea, hung up the first load of laundry, and generally pottered around.

I miss walking to the shops (NOT driving to the supermarket), the shops, the accents, Sunday lunches, the Winchester, barbecues at Alex & Gosia's or Rebecca & Stephen's, trains to the seaside, The Independent, my friends.

Not regret as such. Just a little bit sad.

But it won't be long until I'm in my house, listening to Adam & Joe (thanks to the BBC's listen-again feature) whilst I drink tea, do laundry, and generally potter around. Time to make some new memories.

Well, I have a house. With keys & rooms & windows & everything. Hafeezah rang this afternoon whilst I was surveying the estate, so I chatted with her from my deck overlooking my enormous back garden. It was really nice. :D

Until I made a list of a) all the things I need to buy & b) all the things that need doing. That was a bit daunting, to say the least.

I did not do the paint- and furniture-shopping I had planned for today (but I did order a washer & dryer. How dull, though I daresay it was a pretty good indication of how most of my purchases will look for the next 20 years or so.) Mom & I will go Sunday. Instead, Isobel & I spent most of the afternoon in the coffee shop. People-watching in a town like Floyd is quality entertainment.

Tomorrow I'm going to sleep late & then go to a ninth birthday party in the afternoon. I usually dread these things because I am socially retarded, but I'm actually kind of looking forward to it. Isobel is an excellent wing-man.

She is also good with the cuddles & I could do with some of that right now. Happy days.

Isobel at 4 weeks (4 July--note the festive attire.) Something tells me she won't thank me for posting these, but she's just so funny when she sleeps.

( Peektures )

February 17, 2001: !!!!

What can I say? I was an excitable girl.

I read the first few lines of that entry & felt deep shame mixed with deep sadness. I wasn't even 20 yet & I was so optimistic & lost & hopeful & stupid & in love & fucked up & happy.

Perhaps I haven't changed that much after all. But I still feel sad for that girl, now that I know how some of those stories end.

Christ. Today has been emotional & if I'd known that it would set me off again I never would've started this entry. I had my first mommy-meltdown today & I am still feeling a bit fragile.

I'm still not entirely sure what happened there. One minute I was feeding Isobel, the next I was sobbing to my mom about what a shit mother I am. Whee!

Bedtime. Yes.

Still no house. Apparently some twonk at RBC thought it would be clever to wait until 1 July (i.e., the day before our agreed closing date of 2 July) to fax some employment verification documents to payroll, despite the fact that said twonk received said fax number ahead of the closing date they missed last week. Do I even need to mention that it's a holiday weekend? Bastards.

But as it's a holiday weekend, I didn't feel too bad about asking Dillard to bunk off work at 12 to look after Wes so Rachel & I can go shopping. We've been itching to check out a couple of bookshops in Floyd & I need to pick up Mom & Dillard's anniversary present. (It's today, obviously. I do love last-minute shopping.)

Tomorrow is the 4th of July celebration in Vesta. I've inadvertently joined a quilter's guild, which is pretty impressive when you consider that I don't quilt, so Isobel & I will be rising & shining early to help set up. I haven't been to one of these since I was a kid, so it should be an adventure. I need to dig around tonight & find that one lonely roll of 120 film I have left so I can document the festivities. (Yes, I know it's Independence Day tomorrow, but I'm really missing the Jessops on Oxford Street right now.)

Ah well, no time for homesickness. I've finally gotten the monkey to sleep, so I'd better grab a shower while I can. She seems to have some kind of spidey sense that wakes her whenever I have a shower planned. This is baffling. Especially considering that fenugreek makes my skin smell of curry, not maple syrup like everyone else in God's creation. Ah, the (unlikely) joys of motherhood.

Hmm, what news?

(Isn't it cute that I pretend to want to talk about anything other than my daughter?)

No house yet.  We were supposed to close yesterday, but the bank asked if we could postpone until 2nd July.  Gah!  Don't they know that I have visitors lining up, and that I'm trying to schedule a painting party, and that I have omigodsomuch baby stuff & really need somewhere to put it?

I sold a cake for $35 today.  This is remarkable for two reasons: Not only was it the first time I'd sold a cake to anyone who wasn't family or a friend, it was also the ugliest fucking cake I've ever made.  I sat here all day stressing about how people were looking at it knowing that I'd made it.  And yet the feedback I received was that the customer was overjoyed & it matched the bridal shower decorations perfectly & it was exactly what she wanted.  Considering that the only guidance I had from her was "I would like it to be hot pink.  And yellow.  With flowers." I think this was something of a triumph, regardless of how unhappy I was with the end product.  

Isobel had a three-week check-up yesterday.  She's still a bit jaundiced, so it was back to the hospital for another blood test.  I'll have the results Monday, but the doctor ddn't seem to think it was a Big Problem.  She said it's most likely due to breastfeeding, but she wanted to make sure her bilirubin levels hadn't gone up since the last visit.

I can't believe that it's been 3 weeks since Isobel was born. It feels like no time has passed. She still sleeps for England, but she's gained about a pound since her last visit (up to 9lbs, 8.75oz) & looks like a little person. I cannot get enough of her squishy little face.

My dad & I have been subjecting her to weekly photo shoots, just to try to keep a record of how quickly she's changing & growing. And as per Elanor's request (not that I needed much persuading) here are some more recent photos.  Click the images for more, if you're so inclined:


Isobel - 2 weeks


Isobel - 3 weeks

I love the way she sleeps.  In fact, I think I shall go watch her do just that.

The last time I stayed up all night was June 5 - 6, 2009, and I was giving birth to my gorgeous daughter.

Speaking of my gorgeous daughter, I just gave her her first tub bath & she was superb. She definitely shares her mother's fondness for a good bath.

Someone gave me some vanilla-scented baby wash & lotion, so now she smells of cookies as well. Babies are nibble-able enough, but cookie-flavoured babies are almost irresistible. If she wasn't snoozing so sweetly, I'd be gnawing on her toes right now.

But she has a well-baby appointment tomorrow, so I think it would be best for all concerned if I went to bed. I'm not sure how I'd explain the missing pieces to the pediatrician...

Well, about 3 hours after writing my last journal entry, I went into labor. I prefer to think that this was because my daughter is so awesomely tuned into her mother's anal-retentiveness & not because of a meddling doctor.

I'll save the birth story for another post, but I will say that it wasn't that bad. It progressed so fast that I didn't get an epidural (though I was begging for one) and Mom & Rachel, who stayed with me from start to finish, said that I was remarkably well-behaved. I only swore a few times, and never at anyone.  

So, without further ado, here are photos of my gorgeous daughter, Isobel Kathleen. 



She was born at 10:44am on Saturday 6 June, weighing in at 9lbs and 22 inches long.  I've located Wesley's nose & her father's eyes, but I'm not seeing much of me yet. She has my long fingers & maybe my mouth, but I still think she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.

And now, I think I'll feed her & get some sleep.  Yay.