Saturday, November 22, 2014

Pitch Perfect.

Confession.  Not a confession.

I love a group dance.  And singing.  And desire to do both in my current life (hello, community theatre... except I'm like against conformity and am a total hermit--except running with people.  I really like that.)

But I just watched this movie and it is my inspiration.  It brings meaning to my life.  It's the inspiration.

How did I not know?

Monday, November 17, 2014

Meal Plan Monday or something

real life.
Hello internets.  I'm occasionally emerging from the fog that is being a mom to three small boys and never using a computer and being inept at typing more than instagram posts via my phone.

I like that I can re-look at things I wrote about our lives and family as the small amount of memory I have is now used learning things like parts of planes, all the new names for dinosaurs and making sure everyone is semi clean.  Noted--when changing tiny baby diaper in the night I was so annoyed that I picked up a messed up one that Pampers had put the tabs on backwards.  SO ANNOYING.  I beat the system by just twisting them so it was ok.  When he woke up later he was soaked.  Yah, sorry Pampers for the damning of you.  I had the diaper wrong side out.  Le sigh.

SO  I may have written about how we have been meal planning for what like 2 years now.  We were food wasters.  We would go to the grocery and buy things and then not have any idea what we were going to make and then eat out.  Waste.

I'm thinking that I can make myself get on the internet tubes at least once a week and figure out what the hell we are going to eat.  SO this week it is as follows.  I write it on all the chalk board wall in our kitchen because my useless brain needs constant reminders of what I'm doing when it comes 4:30 that does not involve "Pour a glass of wine."  Somehow that one sticks in my mind.   No notes required.  Also, we never waste wine.  In case anyone was wondering.  Dr. Ben often tells me when I consider not finishing my glass, "waste not.  want not.  That's what Jesus said."  Now I know that Jesus did not literally say this because it isn't written in red and that seminary degree and all.  Other points of note--I remember almost nothing from seminary.  You can call me Master anyway.

Sunday--Bang bang chicken pasta
Monday--Thai-Mex tacos with easy jasmine rice
Tuesday--Crockpot turkey, blackbean and zucchini chili
Wednesday--Coconut curry with easy jasmine rice (from Monday)
Thursday--Baked potatoes topped with chili from Tuesday
Friday--Thai peanut salad (made up)

Goals--eat what we buy. eat healthfully. have lunch leftovers. try new things. reuse ingredients.  make one crockpot meal (usually on tuesdays because G has gymnastics and it's a crazy day.)  make one meat free meal.

Staples--we buy meat, typically in bulk, divide into portions, vac seal and freeze.  we buy rice and pasta's in bulk also.  we keep staple canned goods--black beans, fire roasted tomatoes etc. (okay, back to using caps because my baby let me lay him down... for now)

The bangbang we probably would not make again.  If we do... I'd call it She Bangs Pasta and make up a new recipe.

The Thai-Mex tacos were a win.

We've made the chili before and the rest of the items on the list.  I love the Coco curry.  I hate coconut.  This is good.  We generally make versions of what the recipes are based on what we have--like for that one I don't have shrimp paste or ketchup (vomit) so I use most of the stuff and then use fire roasted tomatoes.  Chicken breast instead of thighs.  sweet potatoes.  and I buy the ginger paste in the fresh section.  easier.  Anyway, you get the gist.  Use what you have and what your family likes.

Holding baby again.  Gosh they are so needy.

Anyway.  how is THAT for a non baby related
real life post?

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Mey Mey 18-19 months

OH mey mey.  How behind am I on your life?  I just love every inch of you.  I love how you love to dance and it involves a LOT of head movement.  I love how you run.  Belly out and one arm swinging.  You love your bubba.  you love your daddy.  You semi love maggie.  You LOVE your baby... and his eyes.  You like to point at (poke out) his eyes.  You say things 80% right.  You use a lot of inflection.  When I ask if you can say "griffin" you respond with "bubba."  You say "ollie."  You say "mummies" instead of gummies.  You ask for gummies everyday after your nap.  You are a DREAM to put to sleep.  You give good kisses.  They are slobbery and wet and awesome.  You love the bath.  You love your "bobby."  Which is how you say paci.  We now all call paci's "bobby's."  I love you in jeans.  You have the sweetest laugh.  The sweetest little voice.  You announce before you bite someone.  "I BITE."  Terrible.  Damn, you're cute.  You understand 99.9% more than what you choose to say.  You love to say, "Mama.  NO.  No.  Mine."  So I can say "yes.  yes.  mine."  You love shoes.  You call them "oosh."  I shouldn't repeat that back, but I do.  Because you are my baby.  Ok, the middle.  You are a baby and I love you.  A lot.  You have now started saying "night night, baby" when you are ready for bed because that is what I say to you.  You have decided your little bathroom stool can get you anywhere.  You throw fits.  You would prefer to be carried.  You are just so stinkin cute you get away with a lot because of that smile.  I wish I had more secluded time with you.  You are my very favorite age right now.  Don't ever change.

I loove my stinky, messy, meyer-boo.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

And the trumpets they go.

duh nuh nununa

No reason for that title other than that song is on repeat in my head.

C sections.  Something I thought I'd never have as the last baby basically fell out pain free.  So I knew nothing.  NOTHING.

Things you need to know...

1.  gas.  Painful.  no thank you.
2.  Before the gas they starve you... which is ok if you have weird reactions to your pain meds so you don't want to eat anyway... and YOU CAN"T HAVE THE EFFING GOOD DRUGS.  Um, what happened here?  How did this happen in the last 18 months?  Norco, I miss the good times we had.  You made me feel warm and happy.
3.  I had MAJOR night sweats post C sectioning.  Ew.  Like wet sheets.
4.  Lunch lady legs.  Massive swelling huge ass ankles that required compression socks.
5.  Pooping post baby is still a biatch.  There.  I said it.
6.  Your unders hit right at the incision.  Did I mention you have an incision?  No thank you.  Like they cut a person out of you.  And you FEEL IT.  ANd the spinal?  Well, that super hurts.  And if you have some weird reaction to that you almost die because it drops your heart rate too low.

I may just have six.  I'm sure I could think of something else to complain about... oh like not being able to pick up your kids.  Or the fact that you have an extra hole in your body.  Or that it gives you a FUPA.  This retreats?  Yes?  I'll run again?  My insides won't fall out?

Basically, we better re-get cable so that we don't find ourselves in this predicament again.  Oh, that and marathon training is OUT.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Oliver Graham Black

Oh Oliver.  You came into our lives, the very first minute I knew about you, as a complete surprise and you have continued to keep us on our toes ever since.  Placenta Previa was a thought at 20 weeks.  At 28 weeks I had my first scare.  Then more and more.  Bed rest.  Hospital stays.  Followed by more bed rest.  Thankful for friends and family who have saved us and cared for our babies.  I didn't want to have a C section, but apparently, that's what has to happen in these cases.  So I was scheduled for September 29.  It seemed SO SOON.  Your due date was October 27.  I was going to lobby for at least one more week of keeping you inside.  36 weeks was just too early.

And then it happened.  The scariest night of my life.  Ambulance rides.  Fear.  Hoping Griffin didn't wake up to the ambulance and fire truck and mommy being carried out on a stretcher.  A scary ride.  would you be ok?  Would I be ok?  would they EVER FIND MY FREAKIN VEINS?  Seriously, they stuck me 8 times before being able to do that.  My dr came and said there was no reason to chance prolonging anything.  It wasn't safe for me.  It wasn't safe for you.  Today was the day.  SO I waited and waited.  I was prepped for the C section.  My heart rate dropped to almost nothing.  They brought me back and within minutes I heard your tiny tiny baby kitten cry.  This is not to say that it wasn't loud, because it was.  I cried tears of joy and thanksgiving because you were crying.  Because I knew you were there and alive.  (now give me my damn baby.)  And they couldn't.  You peed all over the nurses three times.  (good one, bud.)  I kissed your sweet face.  I marveled at how you looked like your brothers. I marveled at how you were the tiniest piece of perfection I had ever seen.  Then you were whisked away.  I was left to sit and listen to Dr's talk about their personal lives and sit quietly and wonder about you.  To long for you.  To be in fear for you.

I was sent off to recovery alone.  Itchy and alone.  So itchy.  Thanks pain meds.  Kidding, I wouldn't have made it without you.  Kiss kiss.

Time frames get a little jumbled here... I saw you in the NICU after I had been checked into my room.  After I pumped?  Maybe?  I'm not sure.  They let me hold you for one second.

On September 10, 2014 you were born at 33 weeks and 4 days.  You weighed 4 lbs and 7 oz when you were born.  You were 17 and 3/4 inches.  You were screaming at 10:38 am.

I just wanted you.  I want you.  I want to hold you when I want and kiss you when I want and love on you when I want.  You have been doing great.  You are off of oxygen.  You are off the bili lights.  You are now off of the IV.  We have gotten to nurse 4x.  you are learning with a bottle.  I pump like mad.  (because lets be real... milk production is all I have going for me.)  I want you home.  I get to hold you at noon and 3 and 9.

You, my baby, are a tiny miracle who continually keeps us on our toes.  You are a perfect blend of your brothers.  You have hair.  Brown and maybe curly?  It's also receding.  It's a great look on your tiny head.  You make the best faces.  I go before our touch times to the NICU and watch you sleep every day.  I don't mind hearing you cry.  It's the cutest sound.  You love to hold hands.  It immediately calms you.  During our skin to skin you snuggle me so contently.  I think you'd stay there for hours, but the nurses take you away at some point and I have to stand up at some point.

Mama's have a need for their babies.  This mama has a need for her baby.  I have to get a room ready.  I have clothes waiting on you to come home.  You have brothers who cannot wait to see you.  One who desperately wants to hold you and see you... the other one just pats on my belly and says, "Baby?"  (no meyer, now I'm just fat.)  But this post isn't about me, really.  That's for another time.

You are so sweet.  You have the chin dimple that seals you to our family.  You complete us.

Oliver Graham.  Ollie G.  The OG.  Biggie Smalls.  We love you with all we have to love.  We hoped for a tiny  miracle and you, my baby, are making it happen.  More pictures to come.  Be prepared.  We think you're kind of amazing.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The Giz.

Gizmo.  Gizmo has been gone for one week.  I didn't get the door closed and he got out.

Gizmo had 9 lives.  I adopted Giz in 2002 when I moved to Atlanta for grad school.  I moved into an apartment by myself and NEEDED a dog.  I found him on the internet and I wanted him.  That dog.  They had him named Danny.  That's a ridiculous name for this dog.  He had been turned into the rescue 2x before I adopted him.  One person was keeping him in a cage like 18 hours a day and another person had an elderly parent move in and bring elderly dogs and lets face it--giz is kind of an ass.  Lets be honest... he was probably pissed if they were calling him Danny.

Gizmo became my dog.  He flew with me.  Traveled with me.  Would jump up on tables while you were gone.  Wanted to be with you 24-7.  By "you" I mean "me."  He loved popcorn.  He had the highest pitch screeching bark I have ever heard.  Ever.

Giz had some sort of terrible doggie leukemia (Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia.)  Aka, he had to go to dog ICU.  Twice.  For a couple of weeks.  This place had visiting hours.  It cost a million dollars.  He stole my trip to Italy.  But it was ok, because he made it.  I would never ever do this for another animal, but then again, I doubt I will ever love another one as much as I did the Gizzard.

We loved him.  We desperately miss him.  ALL of us.  Griffin keeps asking if he is coming back or if he has gone to doggie Houston (heaven).  Meyer occasionally in a high pitch voice says "WOO WOO WOO" which is his immitation of Gizmo's bark.  Breaks my heart to know he is gone and even more that it was my fault.  My 12 pound elderly dog didn't need to get out.  I pray that someone has picked him up, carries him in a baby carrier as I think he'd love, hand feeds him, and has taken him to an all inclusive adults only resort.  He doesn't love the kids.  To be honest, I hope that he is somewhere planning to take over the world.

Giz.  Gizmo.  Gizzimoto.  Gizard.  Screech.  Ta-ta.  Evil ruler.

We love you and we miss you and we will never love another quite as much.

Monday, August 11, 2014

stay-cay in the atx.

Ben and I had a staycay in Austin prior to the hospitalization business.  We had been thinking and thinking about a little trip.  We will be postponing our 10 year anniversary trip (due to baby) and so wanted to do something.  So we went while G was on the beach trip with my fam we had ben's parents come and keep Meyer.  We stayed downtown.  We ate.  We walked.  A lot.  We kayaked.  We slept.  Ben napped.  We went to bed relatively early.  It was glory.  I always love when we have get aways.  Reminds me that we have fun. And that I like to sleep.

Meyer Meyer Pants on Fire. 16 and 17 months.

You continue to grow cuter and cuter and funnier.  Your gap tooth smile is about the sweetest thing I've seen.  You want to do everything and anything your brother does.  You have a temper.  You hit.  You want to be held.  You have a new fake cry.  It's hilarious and sad.  You, until yesterday, had a mullet again.  Amazing because you don't have much hair.  What you do have is super duper blonde.  Any time you see my phone you start saying "CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" for your picture to be taken.  You like to hear Siri.  You love to call your bubba.  You hold up your hands in a "where did it go" fashion and I love it.  You still love balls.  You'd like to hold one while eating.  You like to hide them.  You like going up stairs.  You LOVE taking a bath.  Your cheeks are the most smoochiest.  You constantly have dirt in your neck folds.  It's a good thing you like a bath.  You also despise having your face wiped after eating.  You love to go to bed.  You'd like to go to bed at 5:30.  We don't let you.  We put you off for at least an hour.  You don't really want to snuggle, but I do make you.  You give kisses.  They are the sweetest and the wettest.  You love to be held.  You love to sit on Maggie.  grab her face.  You like to put your finger in your dad's beer (or cocktail.)  I keep waiting for a yuck face, but you don't give them.

Basically, my dear, you are adorable.  You are a dancer.  You are so cute.  So loveable.  We sure do love you.