What day is it?

Before Jackson entered my life, I was really looking forward to maternity leave. Yes, I was excited about the new baby but I was also excited about 16 weeks off of work with nothing on my schedule and a lot of time to reflect and ponder a whole slew of things. People at work kept telling me that they thought I'd have a problem "checking out." But not only was I totally ready to check out, I was excited about it. No offense to my co-workers, but I really haven't thought about you much!

These last two and a half weeks have been the fastest of my entire life. With Chad at home and our family out of town for the last several days, each day has started blending into the next. I actually love it, but I'm completely baffled by it at the same time.

Let's just say having a newborn does not enable any level of efficiency. ("Tell me about it," all of you are saying who already have children.) How I'm home all day and can't find time to make my bed or do one load of laundry or put away the Christmas gifts or wash the dishes is absolutely beyond me. But between eating and burping and calming and changing diapers, I'm amazed at how little time I have on my hands. With a rare moment of silence around here, I find myself counting down the clock until Jackson has to eat again (at the moment, we've got 87 minutes to go) while feverishly cleaning off the kitchen counter tops, writing thank-you notes, taking Lucy out or shooting off a few quick emails. I've never been so unproductive, but so busy!

I have a completely new appreciation of parents. Specifically, those who blow-dry their hair and put on make-up and look cute, not tired. (Though the sleeping part really is getting better.) The last time I consciously left the house attempting to look cute was a week ago when we went to a friend's holiday potluck and it was a three-hour production to make that happen.

As we plod through the surreal experience of life with a newborn, I find myself wondering: How do people do this while taking care of older kids? How do people do this who have twins? How do people do this without family nearby?

Last night, Chad and I were sitting around the tree listening to Christmas music after making dinner. After a few minutes of silence, he looked at me reflectively. I was waiting for something profound.

"What day is it?"

[Pause. My wheels started turning. Slowly.]

It's Saturday, I said. Remember? You're going to go down to Ramparts tomorrow and watch the Bears game.

"Oh right," he said.

My, how things have changed.

And, right on cue, the baby wakes up...

I'll be home for Christmas

I've kind of been dreading today. When we found out we were having a December baby, we were quick to determine that Christmas back home would be difficult, if not impossible. If we were even still considering heading home, the decision to have Chad's ACL surgery pre-Christmas was the nail in that proverbial coffin. The idea of not spending Christmas back home made me so sad, but I'm smart enough to realize that a 14-hour drive home with a baby who needs to eat every three hours sounds miserable...and the logistical challenges would have been way too much.

What are we doing on Christmas Day? Instead of our traditional six Christmases (two sets of parents and four sets of grandparents), we're having...one. Just the three of us.

No driving around and around to make every family Christmas. No huge meals. No chaos of kids and piles of presents. No Christmas morning brunch with my grandparents. No Christmas dinner at Chad's grandparents, or stockings at my parents, or chicken noodle soup on Christmas night. No Christmas Eve service at my church to catch up with old friends or driving around looking at Christmas lights. No Christmas memories that I've had for the past 32 years.

Even though life could not be better and I can't even begin to count all my blessings, everything I'm missing out on today is making a tiny little hole in my heart.

This Christmas is different - in both a bittersweet and exhilarating way. Today, the three of us are literally playing things by ear: opening a few gifts and making a scaled-back Christmas dinner. If it's nice, I'll take Lucy on a walk. If I'm tired, maybe I'll nap. If we're looking for things to do, perhaps we'll pop in a Christmas movie.

Regardless, we won't be home for Christmas - or maybe we will be. At some point I suppose, "home" stops being where you're from and starts being where you are. And this year, we are where we're supposed to be - just the three of us, making new memories and starting new traditions.

(But we'll be in Illinois next year!)

The infant and the invalid

There are times in our lives that both Chad and I are too ambitious for our own good. So when we made the decision to have Chad's ACL surgery right before Christmas, and right after our family had gone home for the holidays, we were definitely wearing rose-colored glasses. In the past 24 hours I imagine both of us have wondered, "What on earth were we thinking?"

The good news is that every millisecond is easier than the last and I really am happy that the surgery is over. But in the moments when I was trying to figure out if I should take Lucy for a walk, feed Jackson, get Chad his pain pills or move his equipment around the house, clean up from last night's dinner, or finish laundry, I have revised my "one day at a time" mantra to "one minute at a time."

And, as is always the case, today has been better than yesterday. Lucy and I headed out on a much-needed walk this afternoon and the two least self-sufficient people in our household stayed home to keep each other company. I think they look quite content, in fact.

One day at a time

It's been a pretty crazy few days.

Most of you who read this know by now that our lovingly-named "Buster" arrived just a few hours after my last blog post. Who knew that he was just waiting for me to update my blog before deciding to make his appearance? (That whole experience makes for quite a story, which I promise to share - sans gory details - in the next few weeks.)

Buster's real name is Jackson Robert Davis and he entered the world at 7:38 p.m. on December 9 at an impressive 8 pounds, 9 ounces. ("I never in a million years thought you were having a baby that big," my OB said when it was over.) We're all perfectly healthy and learning a lot about each other. I have realized, however, that I should have pulled at least one all-nighter in college because nothing ever prepared me for the lack of sleep we got for the first two nights.

At any rate, life has changed in our house and all for the better, but some of those changes are surprising even to me. Here's one example: those of you who know me know I'm a huge fan of lists. I have a list for everything: bills to pay, things to do, items to pack (or unpack, as the case may be), Christmas presents to wrap, etc. The first few days we were home from the hospital, I had no list. Nothing. All I wanted to do - and all I did - was hold Jackson and sleep. Selfish, I know, but I think he's really cute and we were lucky enough to have about a zillion friends and family bringing us more food than we could ever eat.

Since then, I've made lists but they're not exactly ambitious. And I'm ok if they don't get done. Yesterday, my list consisted of taking Jackson to the doctor, sending three emails and vacuuming. (ie: The "vacuum" box never got checked last night so our friends who came over with dinner in exchange for some baby-ogling likely saw a few tufts of dog hair accumulating in the corners. The old me would have freaked out. The new me said, eehhh...oh well.) Today, I hope to fill out some paperwork for our HR department at work, update my blog [check], and make dinner. Hardly impressive by "old me" standards.

Along with this ambivalence toward completing my lists has come a total change in perspective. Instead of getting ahead of myself and thinking "big picture" and "long term," I have forced myself to focus in the moment, not only because I want to soak in as much of this as possible but also because it makes things seem so much less overwhelming.

Sometimes in the middle of the night your mind starts playing tricks on you because it's so quiet and you're suffering from a lack of sleep, and it's easy to let the questions come. I've worried about everything from whether Jackson has a fever to wishing he wouldn't grow up so fast (pretty sure that was on Day 3...). So my new mantra, and all that I've been telling myself over and over, is that we are taking this "One day at a time."

We are going to make it through this one really horrible 3 a.m. diaper-changing experience where Jackson is peeing all over himself and screaming and I am fumbling around trying to figure out what to dress him in next. We are going to make it through the logistical hurdles of figuring out who is taking Lucy out for exercise or finishing our Christmas shopping or filling out our life insurance paperwork. And we are going to make a special note to soak up the amazing experiences, like one peaceful moment yesterday morning after we got home from the pediatrician where I just said "forget the vacuuming" and a sleepy Jackson and I laid down for an hour and took a nap - or the millisecond when I came out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth to find Chad holding Jackson, both sound asleep from total exhaustion, with the exact. same. expression on their faces. Those are the best moments, and I think I'd miss them if I was too busy focusing on what I needed to do tomorrow or after my maternity leave or five years from now.

I really do love this new outlook. I think it's been the first time in my life that I can remember that I'm not planning something down the road. This might mean that I may not get through my lists - appreciate the special state of disarray of my house if you come to visit, or at least don't look too closely in the corners - but it's amazingly refreshing to be able to focus on something so in-the-moment that you realize pretty much everything else can wait. Especially vacuuming.

Though you wouldn't know it, I am here

I'd like apologize to everyone for my Mom's lack of attention to her blog.  Despite what you may be thinking, I have in fact arrived.  Someday Mom might update this site again, but until then I thought I'd say hello.

Any day now, Buster

You know you've really neglected your blog when your own grandmother calls to remind you that you've been slacking off. (Hi, Grandma. Thanks for checking in!)

Ok, how many times can I say this without sounding like a broken record? It's not that I haven't wanted to blog or that I have nothing to say. It's actually the opposite: I have so much to say that I don't know where to start.

Here's what has happened in the last month, all of which warrants its own blog post but I'm currently feeling both overwhelmed and lazy so I'm going with an update through bullets:

• My friends threw me an amazing shower (see Buster's little hat and mittens from his Grandma Margaret)
• I found out that I'm going to be an aunt in May! Congrats, RT and Paul! We can't wait to meet "Yogi". (Where my brother comes up with these stupid nicknames I have no idea but we will eventually pay him back.)
• Chad had his meniscus repaired. Compared to last year's ACL surgery, it was a total breeze. ACL surgery for his left knee is scheduled for December 22. He is currently going to physical therapy so often that he got a t-shirt for "perfect attendance" last month. Not kidding.
• We went to a cabin in the Shenandoah with my sisters and their husbands as my birthday present. I can honestly say I've stayed in a barn! The weather was perfect and we spent two days playing cards, games and eating. A lot.
• Janice and Nick hosted an incredible Thanksgiving. Evening entertainment consisted of finding objects (ie: hot cups of coffee, glasses of wine, etc.) that would balance on my gigantic belly.
• Black Friday and Cyber Monday came and went. I worked. A lot. I even did my share of TV, though my clothing options were much more limited.

And that brings us to today, for the most part. This is Buster's due date. While I never expected an early baby, I have been giving this child the benefit of the doubt and told myself over the past few weeks that Buster is waiting to arrive until:

• The furniture gets delivered
• We go to a childbirth class, take a tour of the hospital, and choose a pediatrician
• His clothes get washed
• My hospital bag gets packed
• The Christmas tree and decorations are put up and the boxes go back to the attic
• We make a final decision on his name
• The car seat gets installed
• We spackle and paint the hallway and complete a zillion other household projects, much to Chad's chagrin
• We go out for our "Last Supper" (as we called our evening out last Saturday night)

Now that those tasks are all done, I hope he's not waiting for it to warm up outside because that doesn't appear to be happening for some time. So on his due date, the date I have had circled on my mental calendar for the last nine months or so, I sit. And I try to remind myself that the days I work now will be more days I have off later, that even though I'm not sleeping much I am also totally on my own schedule, and that every day that goes by without a baby is one more day I get to think about how amazing it's going to be to meet him!

DC's power couple

Chad reminded me this morning that it's been nearly a month since I blogged. Mom reminded me - publicly - as well, though I will say I've blogged since she has.

So, here's our biggest news from the last month.

Remember this? Well, it's happened again.

In a football game a couple weeks ago, Chad tore his ACL and meniscus on his left knee. He also has been having some lingering pain and swelling in his right knee, and an MRI showed that he tore the meniscus in his right knee as well. We were hoping for good news and preparing for bad news. Unfortunately, we got the latter.

Between my ever-growing belly and Chad's hobbling, we are quite the pair. It's actually comical.

So, Chad needs a scope on his right knee and reconstructive surgery on his left (ie: crutches for a month). The question around here is, when should we do it?

Should we try to get the ACL done before the baby is born so that Chad could start his recovery during a slow time of year and I'd only have to deal with taking care of one child at a time? (Sorry, couldn't help it...) If we went that route, in a perfect world the worst of his recovery would be behind him before Buster's grand debut, even though he'd be on crutches during the delivery and through Christmas. We wouldn't have to dread any upcoming surgeries since it would be out of the way and it's a slightly better option from an insurance standpoint. In a not-so-perfect world, the baby would come while Chad was still doped up on pain meds and unable to drive, though fortunately we have lots of friends and family who have already offered to chip in.

Other options: Wait until later on in my maternity leave, even though Chad will be busier at work. Wait until next summer even though the baby will be more mobile, I'll be back at work, and in the meantime Chad may injure his knees even more. (I don't personally see any of this as a good thing though this is what the surgeon seems to think makes the most sense.) Do both surgeries at the same time, even though the immediate recovery would be more difficult... Decisions, decisions. And not a single one of them is a no-brainer.

So I leave it up to you:

How should Chad approach surgery?
Just scope the right knee before the baby is born. There will be time for the "big" surgery later. Have surgery on the left knee ASAP. Get it over with already and hope Buster doesn't come early! Have both knees done at the same time sometime after the baby is born. Wait until next summer to do both, separately. Babies are hard work!
	Results

(Let's say it in unison, "Hopefully Buster gets Ellen's knees.")

Finally fall

We've got cooler weather, falling leaves and open windows at our house, which can only mean one thing: it's fall. And last night I made the yummiest recipe that got me even more in the mood for cooler temps than I thought I could be.

I must admit, I've hardly cooked at all since I've been pregnant. It's actually sort of embarrassing. Most dinners have involved take-out, Chad's kitchen magic or leftovers (though, to be fair, I'm almost always on dog-walking duty so we are splitting the chores).

Last night Chad left work earlier than I did, so the deal was that I'd make dinner and he'd take Lucy out.

What was in our fridge? Pork chops. And that was about it.

I didn't want to grill them. I didn't want to just throw some seasoning on them and bake them. Anything marinated would take too long because, let's face it, it was 7:30 and I was just thinking about dinner. I didn't exactly have 8 hours to let something soak.

After a few minutes of digging, I found the world's best solution: caramel apple pork chops (no caramel required), which I was able to make with ingredients I already had in the kitchen. The other best part? They were almost done by the time Chad got back from their walk and we had eaten dinner by 8:15.

Here's the recipe, just because I feel like sharing:

Caramel Apple Pork Chops

Prep Time: 20 Minutes
Cook Time: 25 Minutes
Servings: 4

Ingredients:
4 (3/4 inch) thick pork chops
1 teaspoon vegetable oil (I used olive oil)
2 tablespoons brown sugar
salt and pepper to taste (I used 1/8 tsp salt and about 1/8 tsp pepper)
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tart apples - peeled, cored and sliced (I cut ours into 1/2-inch wedges so they were bite-sized...and I didn't peel them)
3 tablespoons pecans (optional)

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 175 degrees. Place a medium dish in the oven to warm.
2. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Brush chops lightly with oil and place in hot pan. Cook for 5 to 6 minutes, turning occasionally, or until done. (It took about 10-11 minutes for our pork chops to be done, not 5-6.) Transfer to the warm dish, and keep warm in the preheated oven.
3. In a small bowl, combine brown sugar, salt and pepper, cinnamon and nutmeg. Add butter to skillet, and stir in brown sugar mixture and apples. Cover and cook until apples are just tender, about 4 minutes. Remove apples with a slotted spoon and arrange on top of chops. Keep warm in the preheated oven.
4. Continue cooking sauce uncovered in skillet, until thickened slightly (about 3 minutes). Drizzle sauce over apples and chops. Sprinkle with pecans.

Chad rated these "a solid 8 or 9", meaning he definitely thinks they're something we should make again. (By the way, I'm fairly certain that "10s" are reserved solely for Thanksgiving, thick steaks, or anything fried so this was high praise.)

The only thing we still haven't decided? Who gets to eat the leftovers.

No turning back

Sometimes I don't blog because I don't have anything to say.

Sometimes I don't blog because there's so much going on that I can't figure out where to start.

My silence for the last two weeks has been a result of the latter, but I promise to be better about it! I really do have a lot of things to write about...

NRF released its holiday forecast today. This is my ninth holiday season at NRF and our announcement is exhilarating every year. (I almost played Christmas music at work today, that's how excited I am...) I like my job for the first nine months of the year, but I love my job for the last three months.

I've actually been so focused on getting all the little puzzle pieces together for this big day of ours that it just hit me yesterday I won't make it through the entire holiday season: Buster will make his grand arrival before Christmas - if I'm lucky, right after Cyber Monday. As the date gets closer, the idea of having a baby strangely seems much farther away. I need to get out of this mindset soon because, as my doctor reminded me on Monday, Buster could come into this world anytime. (There is no indication that he will, but technically he could.) Eiks!

Too Easy

Since Ellen is neglecting everyone, I thought I would take a break from my ESPN gig and my just generally being awesome, to remind everyone (especially you dirty Packers fans) that the Packers game was really too easy.  We'll see if the Little Giants can put up more of a fight.  Until then, enjoy this:

I know, I know...

It's been almost two weeks since I've posted anything. (And this, after teasing you with three straight days of posts.) Sorry.

I'm in Dallas at an online retail conference, hoping the Bears will destroy the Packers tonight so that I can wear my Cutler jersey with pride to Cowboys Stadium tomorrow night. I've got plenty of good blog fodder in my head, but that will have to wait another day. Right now, it feels kind of fried.

Turf war

Buster and I are in the midst of a little property dispute. All was going well for the first seven months, but apparently he thinks the little cocoon I have so lovingly crafted for him is no longer big enough. So he is trying to make himself more comfortable by stretching and kicking his way into a larger space. Despite the fact that I am a generally hospitable person, I must say that my stomach, bladder and other organs are not liking this new development one bit. I'm starting to feel squished from the inside out. (And, yes, I realize this is not likely to improve in the next several months.)

Seriously, can't we all just get along?

I told Buster last night that if he wasn't careful I was going to serve him with an early eviction notice. I'm fairly certain he wasn't listening.

Rolling out the red carpet

Every year, Chad and I host a summer party with a different theme and invite all of our friends. Last year's theme, which I documented with a few photos, was "redneck." This year, it was "At the Movies." And unlike the past few years, we had absolutely perfect - and I do mean perfect - weather. What a fun end-of-summer night to spend with lots of friends.

I am still laughing about the costumes and the creativity in our group. We had about 40 people show up - some moviegoers and paparazzi, a few tennis players and cartoon characters. We had some 80's flashbacks and some totally random characters that no one, really, has ever heard of. Chad and I went as the teenage couple from Juno, though managed not to get a photo of us together all night. But here were some of the best ensembles:

Our friends Mark, Brigid and Dan, who came as the Trolls from Troll 2

 

April, Tom and Braden as the couple from Raising Arizona
(for the second year in a row, the O'Reilly's won Best Couple/Family)

Our friend Aaron, who is really from Australia, came as the Crocodile Hunter (Line of the night from one of our friends who didn't know Aaron previously: "How long have you been working on that accent?" to which Aaron replied, "Umm...about 32 years.")

 

Sarah and Spencer, contenders in the Best Couple category,
had quite an inventive ensemble from Dodgeball

Our friend Jenn, who won the Best Girl category
with her Breakfast Club persona

Rob, a contender for Best Guy, who came as one of the main characters in The Hangover

Brigid and I are both really pregnant and both came as Juno

And the costume of the night went to Paul, who completed a flawless Cousin Eddie with a see-through white sweater, green Dickie, tight pants, and patent leather shoes (and don't forget the moose mug!)

Now can you see why I'm still laughing - and already looking forward to next year's party?

Testing...1, 2, 3

I've been thinking ahead to September 13 for the last several weeks. This is the one-year anniversary of Chad's total knee blow-out. And I thought about it even more yesterday when I watched a player on the other football team Chad's guys were playing likely blow out his knee, too. [cringe]

In retrospect, much of that experience was awful: it was a test of patience, expensive and led to a lot of unplanned finagling and rearranging of our life. The half-hour I spent trying to get a woozy Chad into our house and up the stairs when we came home from the hospital after his surgery was definitely a low point. But at the time, it certainly didn't seem tragic.

The whole "knee" incident was another example to me of how sometimes you just have to put your life on autopilot and take things one step at a time - sometimes literally. I actually think back on that lesson a lot when I'm feeling like something is just too overwhelming or unfair or frustrating. You deal with it, you learn from it, and you get past it. And one year later, thankfully, Chad's knee is as good as it's ever been. Well, almost.

And this year, our Sept. 13 was much better. Why? Because the doctor's office called this afternoon and my glucose tests came back normal. That experience was a social experiment like no other, by the way. And I'm glad it's over. (I will take you up on that cake now, Robert!)

Inside and outside

I mentioned a few months ago that we've had a big list of to-dos in getting ready for Buster's arrival in just a few months. We got a new backyard patio and landscaping, put a TV in the living room and are making slow progress on our baby check-off list.

The furniture has arrived, so I feel like I can finally show off the backyard. Chad's had breakfast out there a few times and now that the weather is cooling down, we'll be spending lots of nights out there too. (Remember what it used to look like?)

We've also been busy inside. In summary, Chad made a mess and I cleaned it up. If you didn't know any better, you'd think this just involved hanging a TV on the wall, but a lot of behind-the-walls work was involved...which of course also means cutting, spackling, painting...Our living room is now quite a bit more functional and Chad is already enjoying it immensely (as you can see by his feet propped up on the coffee table).

And we registered. One wouldn't think that this would take much time, but it took f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Thanks to some amazing friends who sent along lots of tips - plus one who even went to the store with me and another who gave us a ton of toys, clothes and gear they're finished with - we've made quite a dent in this baby thing. We finished registries at Buy Buy Baby and Amazon.com last weekend and have a study full of great baby stuff that needs to be sorted through and put away. We still need to pick out a crib and a dresser, but, well, we've been pretty darned productive lately. That project can certainly wait until next weekend.

I told you so

About a week ago, I went to the doctor's office for a routine appointment and a glucose tolerance test, which evaluates a woman's risk for gestational diabetes.The nurse told me if I didn't hear from her by the end of the week, I had passed. I was fairly certain I would fail just because this whole pregnancy has seemed relatively uneventful, but was crossing my fingers that I didn't.

Thursday came and went. Friday came and went. Hooray! I told my mom this weekend that no news was good news. She said she wasn't surprised: "I've never known you to fail a test."

Until my phone rang this morning. I failed.

#!$&@^#!

I was so mad, I ate three cookies.

So for five hours this Friday, I get to sit in a lab, drink straight sugar and see how my body reacts to all of it over time through a series of blood draws. I can't eat or drink anything else twelve hours beforehand or at any time during the test. (Jealous?) I'm relatively optimistic that I'll pass this more advanced version and that my only inconvenience in this whole deal will be five wasted hours. And let's hope that is the case.

If I fail, I get to spend the remainder of my pregnancy monitoring my blood sugar multiple times a day and adopting a modified version of a low-carb lifestyle (ie: no bread, pasta, dessert...). To me, this sounds like torture. To Chad, this sounds like a pretty good deal. I'd basically have to spend the next 10 weeks eating just like him.

Adventures in France

A year ago, we were in France. I've been thinking about that trip all week - the food we liked (and hated), the times I laughed so hard tears were rolling down my face, the complete and utter boredom resulting from our tour in Reims... So I had to pull out the ole video montage I made of the trip.

In retrospect, this would have been a very different vacation had Chad already blown apart his ACL - which happened less than a week after we got home - or I was pregnant. I'd say we had perfect timing! ...And perfect weather...and perfect company...

What 25 weeks looks like

Five weeks ago I posted a photo featuring my little quasi-pregnant belly. Well now there's no disputing. As I was discussing with my friend Brigid, who is due just a few days before me, the good news in all of this is that now we really look like we're getting ready to have a kid, not just that we overindulged ourselves during a lunchtime pizza buffet. The bad news...well, there really isn't any bad news other than I am getting ready to send my pre-pregnancy clothes to the attic which makes me sad because some of my summer stuff that doesn't fit anymore is really cute!

So with 25 weeks down and 15 to go, here's what I look like now. Chad has felt the baby kick and punch and do Lord knows what else quite often. Though it's sometimes distracting, I like the constant reminders that Buster is still in there hanging out. He's an active little dude, just like his dad.

As for the pickles-and-ice-cream questions I keep getting, I really have zero cravings. Please just let me have endless supplies of fruit and water - and, umm...dessert. (Though, let's be honest, that is not a craving as much as the fact that because I'm pregnant I feel like I have a license to eat Ben & Jerry's whenever the mood strikes, thankyouverymuch.)

zzzzzzzzzz...

If I'm really good at anything, it's sleeping. Always has been. I wasn't even the kid who woke up early on Christmas.

But for the last few weeks, I haven't been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Even when we were in our super-comfy bed at the Ritz. And it's irritating. (Granted, I realize this is a far cry from what some pregnant women have to deal with but please afford me this minor complaint.)

I've always been an equal-opportunity sleeper: my stomach, my back, a side...I don't discriminate. But of course I can't sleep on my stomach for the time being and apparently sleeping on your back during pregnancy isn't good either (something about cutting off circulation to the baby). Now, not only am I supposed to be sleeping on my side, I'm supposed to be sleeping on my left side. And who the heck wants to stay on their left side for an eight-hour stretch?

So I'm constantly tossing and turning - grabbing extra pillows, flailing around, trying to get comfortable, sitting up and stretching, and then trying this whole "sleep" thing again. (Let's just say Chad probably hasn't been sleeping very well either.)

The second trimester must be God's way of getting you used to the fact that you'll soon be unable to sleep for more than two or three hours at a time anyway.

The babymoon, Part II

We had an awesome time on vacation: family followed by work followed by Napa. Other than to say the weather was perfect (high 70's and sunny every day with no humidity), I'll just share these photos before getting back to the real world.

View from our room in Half Moon Bay (we sat at the outdoor fire pits at night - with blankets! - just listening to the ocean)

Chad enjoying lunch - and the view - at Sam's Chowder House

Totally undeveloped coastline we saw during our drive down the Pacific Coast Highway

At one of the scenic stopping points

Catching the sunset our last night on the coast

View from Sterling Vineyards in Napa

Surveying the landscape at Sterling - another gorgeous day!

The babymoon, Part I

When we told friends I was expecting, we heard the same question over and over again: "Are you going on a babymoon?" I don't think so, I'd usually say. (I didn't tell them that's because I had no idea what they were talking about.)

After a little bit of Googling, I figured it out. Apparently, a babymoon is the last trip a couple takes before becoming parents - or so say the savvy marketers who are trying to squeeze every last dime out of you before you become a homebody for the next two years.

When we planned our summer vacation, it wasn't meant to be a babymoon but, well, it's turned into one. The first leg was spent with my relatives in California. Lots of great food, a pedicure, massages, and some sight-seeing.

Buster even - kind of - went to his first Cubs game at Chad's second-favorite ballpark. (It was a great game, but the Cubs lost in the 9th. To a team with a catcher named Buster, no less...)

Last night we began the second leg of our journey - to Half Moon Bay, CA, about a half-hour south of San Francisco. This is my first time ever staying in a Ritz-Carlton and I have to say it lives up to the hype, even though I'm working. What's made it even more incredible is that some higher-up found out this is our last trip pre-kid and upgraded us to a suite with a fireplace, two bathrooms, an amazing view and the comfiest bed I may have ever slept in. I'm not sure if I'd ever fork over my own money for this place but I can't help but think that I must have done something pretty darned nice for someone along the way in order for this unexpected karma to stumble upon me.

This afternoon, Chad's out golfing and I just finished a 90-minute hike along the Coastal Trail. The five miles I wandered were filled with one breathtaking sight after another: crashing waves; crooked trees; pink, purple and orange flowers; and lots of tall grasses. At the halfway point, I sat at the top of one of the bluffs to take it all in. It was such an amazing trek I didn't even turn on my iPod - just listed to nature, had a good conversation with myself, and silently savored the fact that no one on this earth knew where I was at that very moment.

Man, life is good.

The bad news

...But first, the good news. Our backyard project was completed yesterday! I'll post photos of it in the next few days once we clear all the debris and random branches off the new patio.

Now on to yesterday's bad news.

Remember that tree in front of our house I wrote about last spring? The one with the gorgeous flowers and big, bushy summertime leaves?

Well, now it looks like this:

Yesterday afternoon we had one of those crazy summer storms that brought with it far too much wind and lightning. It caused a ridiculous amount of damage - seriously, look at those pictures! - along with a 12-hour power outage for us and most of our friends. The police officer who came by our house after I reported our tree (it was blocking the street) said this was much worse than anything that happened during last winter's storm.

Of course, it could have been so much worse. The tree didn't hit our house, anyone's cars (it came inches from our neighbor's convertible), or any of us.

Plus, it's on city property so it's their responsibility both to clean it up - which they did with chainsaws at 2 a.m. this morning - and tear the rest down. Still, I am going to mourn the loss of our little tree which gave us about as much shade as one could expect with a front yard the size of a postage stamp.

As I told Chad, now we have an amazing backyard and the front looks like a disaster area. Doesn't that just figure?

The great cake debate, Part II

This has been a fantastic week!

My second cake in the great cake debate arrived today from my buddy Godmund (ok, it was for the whole office but I did get a good-sized piece). A nice dense white cake with buttercream frosting layered with raspberry jam and blueberries.

Since it had fruit in it it, I figured was fair game for breakfast, so my piece is already gone.

The cake was so good, I am giving Godmund a pass that this is what it looked like when it arrived:

(See? Absolutely everything in this city - even cakes - is political.)

And, no, I will not announce a winner in my grand experiment. Both cakes were amazing. Besides, choosing a favorite might make one of them less inclined to bake in the future. I'm doing everyone a favor by remaining impartial!

Let them eat cake! ...for breakfast?

Last week, two of my colleagues (one current, one former) - who both happen to be men and amazing dessert masters - were mired in a political debate on Facebook.

Always the opportunist, I proposed a solution: "I'll settle this. Each of you bake me a cake and I'll pick the winner. Deal?"

It's amazing what people do for you when you're pregnant.

This morning I swung by my friend Robert's office building to pick up three huge pieces of red velvet cake (Chad's new favorite, so he gets one - and RT gets the other). I put it in the fridge, but I can still hear it calling my name from the other side of the office.

I'm pretty sure the real winner of this political discussion is...me.

The only question is, How early is too early to eat it?

The clock is ticking

It seems that every life change brings with it a fast-and-furious frenzy to start and finish all the projects you've been meaning to undertake or should have done years ago.

Moving? Time to throw away all the crap you've been keeping in your closets for years.

Selling your house? Better get new windows, new carpet and replace that broken dishwasher.

Having a baby? In our case, that means redo the backyard, get new living room furniture and, oh, figure out the nursery.

First things first - the backyard. We noticed about two years ago that the patio was starting to slope toward the house, which isn't good for all sorts of reasons. Plus, we've always hated the pavers and never spend any time out there because, well, it's not really visually appealing.

So we had a few landscaping companies give us quotes and draw up designs. It took me a year to swallow the idea of spending that much money, but last spring we started having discussions about doing this again. Then I thought I was going to lose my job. Then we thought we were going to move. Then we just decided we'd rather have the money in savings. (And thank God we didn't do any of this earlier because our winter storm would have probably ruined my new plants. Who says procrastination doesn't pay off?)

But Buster's upcoming arrival has put our backyard plans on the front burner. We picked a landscape architect. We approved the plans. We got rid of the pavers ourselves to save money (read: I found someone who wanted them then Chad & Nick took them out and carried them all to our driveway on a particularly hot Saturday). And now the work is finally starting!

In about a week, I hope to show you something a little more lovely, but here's the pre-show along with the dirt pile I'm dealing with now.

The left side of our patio...ugh...
can this be any more drab and brown?

The right side of our patio (Answer to above: Yes, apparently, it can.)

One of my pathetic flower beds (ie: playground for Lucy
since it's been six years and I still can't figure out
what will actually grow in here)

A massive ole dirt pile, but hope that soon we'll have some green!

It's a....!!!

I've written before that we went back and forth deciding whether we wanted to know the baby's gender ahead of time. But when it came right down to it, Chad wanted to find out and I couldn't imagine him knowing without me.

When we went in for our 20-week appointment, we gave the technician a blank note card and envelope to write down whether Baby Davis was a boy or a girl. She didn't have any trouble determining the gender of what she called our "very active" baby, though we were looking at the same monitor that she was and had no idea.

We left the appointment and continued on with our weekend. That envelope taunted me for 36 hours! My trustworthy husband sealed it shut himself because he thought I would peek. Hmph.

On Saturday night, we had reservations at a nice restaurant and planned to open the envelope then. It was a surreal, but very cool, experience. Chad opened the envelope first, made absolutely no facial expression, put the note card back in the envelope, and handed it to me.

At that moment, I was - honestly - terrified! Not because I was hoping for one more than another but because this was such a big deal (though everything to me is a big deal lately).

And this is what we saw:

Of course I started crying.

I do that a lot these days, though rarely in public.

In hindsight, I'm very glad we found out. Yes, it's one part of the equation but we've still got lots of surprises in store - will our little boy have red, curly hair like his grandpa? brown eyes like his dad? - and I think we now both feel a bit more connected to the little dude, especially Chad who hasn't been feeling all of the sometimes wonderful and sometimes nauseating elements of pregnancy. That makes me happy.

As we were falling asleep that night, I turned to Chad and said, "You realize this gives me a whole new set of things to worry about, right?"

What 20 weeks looks like

We're at the halfway point with Baby Davis! All went well for our big 20-week check up. Here's what Buster is looking like now.

We've already got a thumb-sucker

Our little alien baby (4D images are SO weird!)

And me on the way to the doctor's office this morning,
finally starting to show...

Lab lessons

This dog just won't learn. (Though, one could argue, neither do her owners.)

On Monday night while I was at kickboxing, Lucy stumbled upon and opened a bottle of Mucinex. Chad came home about an hour after I left to an open bottle and six pills scattered on the upstairs rug.

We weren't totally sure that she'd had any of them - after all, knowing Lucy, if she ate one she'd eat 'em all - but after the ibuprofen incident a few years ago we learned our lesson on how toxic some medicines are for dogs. So we called the animal poison control hotline. (Of course our vet had already closed for the evening. Murphy's Law says that dogs never have an "incident" when the vet is actually open.)

The folks on the phone took all the info on Lucy, what she - potentially - got into and how much, and tried to understand if she was acting any different (she wasn't). Then they had us induce vomiting which, let's just say, was not a fun experience for any of us. Since she didn't yak up any pills (too much information, I know), we inferred that she probably didn't eat any of them and decided not to take her to the emergency animal hospital.

The poison control folks recommended that we "monitor" Lucy ourselves for the apparently critical four-hour window when she could start to go downhill. Pay special attention for any signs of agitation, they said.

What kind of agitation, we asked?

Well, the woman said, any signs of hyperactivity - inability to sit still, constantly wanting to play or run around, pacing, or getting up and changing positions often when she's sleeping.

We gave each other a look. I stifled a laugh. Chad paused before responding to our new poison control friend, who obviously did not know Lucy well: "I did say she's a Lab, right?"

And, by the way, she's going to be fine. Again.

Celebrity fit club

I don't get too involved in celebrity fashion. Nor do I get too involved in the conversations that start with, "Did you see what she was wearing?" And I've generally been known to defend celebrities when they get taken to the cleaners over gaining a bit of weight.

But Jessica Simpson is really starting to make me crazy.

About a year ago - was that a year ago? - there was a whole controversy of Jessica and her "mom jeans." Very high-waisted and just not cute. They made her look...well, bad. Let's call it what it was: a poor fashion decision.

Part of my irritation with Jessica Simpson is that she complains when people "objectify" her and make derogatory comments over whether she's gained weight - when she literally made a name for herself many years ago in her career by wearing short shorts and skimpy outfits where her top was falling out of her shirt. She seems to want all the great press but none of the bad - and it doesn't happen that way, honey.

No matter what fashion craze is hitting the runways, every curvy woman out there (myself included) just knows that sometimes things don't work with your body type. That's ok! And you can't blame it on your stylist. Every woman I know checks herself out in the mirror at least once before leaving the house, right? If you look like an idiot, well, it's your own fault.

Bottom line: Jessica and her complaining about the mom jeans and placing blame on her stylist and badmouthing the media for talking about her figure - when that's how she's made her living - makes my head spin.

So then tonight I'm on People.com and I see this:

Not. Cute.

Seriously. You'd think Jessica would have learned from the last unflattering, high-waisted, overprinted, pocketed ensemble, wouldn't you?

My favorite things, Part 5

It's been several months since I updated my favorite things list (see parts 1, 2, 3, or 4 for the historical perspective), so here are the things I am loving right now:

Janice and Nick's wedding photos: I've been waiting three weeks for this! (Remember? I didn't take any pictures.) Watch the three-minute video for more shots. I love each of these more than the last. I want to get married again just for the photos. sigh...

A belly band: When all my previously-pregnant friends found out I was expecting, this was the one thing they said I had to get. I've got to say, the concept of pulling this weird little piece of fabric over my pants to hold them up was a bit disconcerting to me. But I'm still not in the maternity clothes stage and I was tired of wearing things with no waist so I picked one up last weekend at Target for a whopping $16. It's the best money I've spent in ages. Now, my old pants are back!

Gatorade G2: The apparent combination of summertime and pregnancy has been giving me the worst headaches I've ever had. I'm talking about constant, sometimes-these-last-for-days headaches. My doctor suggested I was dehydrated, though there was no way I could possibly drink any more water. And then someone - our HR guy whose wife has had four babies - told me that I needed to be drinking something with electrolytes. (As Chad said, "Why didn't we think of that?") So, a little G2 in my day makes the headaches go away. At least some of the time.

My pedometer: A few years ago, I went and got myself a little pedometer and the darned thing slipped off my pants the third time I wore it. But the second one I got earlier this year is even better. This magic little device records your steps and keeps track of them over the past week - based on how many steps you actually take per foot vs. any kind of "standard" or average - and has a latch to keep it from falling off. When it's walk-time for Lucy, I just slap this thing on the back of my shorts (I put a house key on it too so we can travel lightly) and take off. I love this little thing. It's much more gratifying to come home from a walk to see you've traveled three miles than to just come home sweaty and tired.

The song "This Afternoon" by Nickelback - which is basically about a group of friends sitting around in their backyard wasting an entire day. Yes, it's overplayed but it makes me happy. (Unlike "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum which used to make me happy but is so overplayed that these days it just makes me irritated.)

Riesens: I love these darned little things so much, I can eat a dozen at a time! (Maybe that's a stretch, maybe not. I've never really counted.) For those of you who don't like dark chocolate, don't let that deter you. I don't like dark chocolate either, but I loooove these. Though be prepared for them to get stuck in your teeth.

Napping: Why, oh why, did I ever protest this activity? Maybe I can hunt down a person to let me trade in the naps I didn't take in kindergarten for a few during my workday. Wishful thinking?

Men are from Mars...

...And yet another classic example of the difference between men and women. I came home from work on Friday to see this:

Chad's shoes sitting right on the kitchen table, which had been disinfected and scrubbed not 24 hours before. I waited to move them, more perplexed than upset. (Besides, it wasn't like sitting there longer would contaminate the table any more than it already was.)

When Chad got home, the conversation went something like this:

Me: Why are your shoes on my clean kitchen table? Were you worried that Lucy was going to eat them?

Chad looked at me with a blank stare. Clearly, I had missed the very obvious point.

Chad: No. I was trying to flatten the brim of my hat.

Oh, of course! Why didn't I think of that?

Lessons from a sun goddess - among other things

For about 48 hours this week, I'm in Huntington Beach, CA. I really like this place, though I do wonder how on earth anyone who lives here gets work done. (But I really am working - see?) In fact, maybe I've been working so much that I used up all my writing juices for the day, 'cause in re-reading this post, I'm starting to wonder if I'm making any sense.

Anyway, the weather here has been incredible. Today's high is 72 and the low is 65. After the last few weeks in DC where temperatures topped 100 degrees on multiple occasions, I could be persuaded to forgo my love of the four seasons and live in a place like this!

Yesterday when I arrived, I had a few hours before our first event. So I headed to the pool in my gym clothes (I never thought I'd have time to go to the pool so I didn't pack a swimsuit - or sunscreen) and decided to soak up the sun for an hour while reading my People magazine. It was breezy, the sun was warm but not hot, and I got all caught up on the celebrity scoop I've been missing for two weeks.

The problem? I forgot the important lesson that warm sun + cool breeze does not = no rays. Meaning, I came back to my room a peculiar shade of pink. And of course, since I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, the tan lines aren't particularly flattering. They kind of hurt, too. Note to self: Wear sunscreen even if you don't think you need it.

When I was packing to come here and even in the cab on the way to the hotel, I remembered coming to this same conference at the same hotel a year ago. Where I had lunch, where we ate dinner, where we made s'mores and watched the sun set. It wasn't until I'd been here a few hours and was talking to someone else about it that they told me the conference wasn't held here last year - it was two years ago. Yikes! Time flies.

ISO Cliff's Notes for baby things

Earlier this week, I decided I absolutely must sit down and figure out what we need for Baby Davis. I was actually feeling pretty proactive until I started down this road.

A few weeks ago my friend April, one of my closest "mom" friends out here, gave me a whole armload of things that I've been meaning to sift through. One is an awesome book that walks you through everything you need and everything you don't (ie: a changing table = huge waste of money) when it comes to getting ready for a baby.

Problem is, this book is 600 pages long. (And the first 70-some pages are all about cribs. I am not exaggerating.) Now, I never perfected the art of just reading the important stuff that so many of my peers learned in college. Nooo...when I was tasked with a reading assignment, I read every single page. That theory is coming back to bite me in a big way. But, man, after this week I am quite an expert on cribs.

The other problem is that these books do nothing but overwhelm the fragile mindset of the mother-to-be. Not only did my 70 pages of crib reading leave me feeling totally unprepared (and stupid, in many cases), I was also feeling very behind. Chad came home to find me curled up on the living room couch about 65 pages into the book and simply beside myself: "CHAD! We only have two more weeks to pick out a crib before it's too late!" (They say you should order your crib by 20 weeks or it might not make it to you in time for the baby's arrival.) Fortunately, Chad is the sane one of the two of us and talked me off my ledge. But we're still going shopping next weekend.

So, mom friends, if I decide to abandon my remaining 530 pages of reading, can you just tell me please...what should we register for or buy and what's a gigantic waste of cash?

Morning people

No one in our house can be accused of being a morning person, but Lucy's recent lack of desire to get up when the sun rises brings a smile to my face.

Instead of waking us up at the crack of dawn, she's taken to burying her head between her bed and the curtain to block out all light. Even while I'm getting ready for work, I can often find Lucy silently protesting the start of a new day in the corner of our bedroom.

In the morning when my alarm goes off, I half-raise my head and I usually see this:

Clearly she's not ready to get up either! Though she is usually moving around before Chad...