random baby cuteness

I got this “baby bouquet” for Christmas, something I’ve never seen before (the flowers unroll into clothing). So much cuter than a three-tier diaper cake! I almost didn’t want to ever disassemble it.

ch-ch-change

It’s amazing how quickly and drastically things change when you buy a house and get pregnant. Our focus has completely shifted, our conversations revolve around previously foreign topics, our weekend activities reflect a totally new lifestyle. And unlike the first three years of our relationship (during which changes happened gradually), these changes happened overnight.

I will state this as a disclaimer: we are both beyond thrilled to be having this baby and wouldn’t trade her for anything. We cannot wait to meet her and smother her with love. Now that I’ve said that, I can admit that I’ve spent a great portion of this pregnancy trying to catch my breath, trying to find a comfortable place…a place that makes sense…amidst all these enormous life changes. I like to have to remind myself constantly that this has all been more intense given there is so much on my plate—living in our first house, trying to navigate the many repairs/projects/financial sucks that go along with being homeowners, living in a new state, trying to become part of a new community/find friends, being pregnant, trying to figure out what to do with my career. But, the fact is it all happened at once. It doesn’t help to daydream about simpler times or imagine what life would be like right now had our “perfect plan” actually come to fruition. The simpler times are gone, and the universe discarded our plan and handed us what we have today. So, I am here, trying to digest this little by little and iron out the chaos.

As a side note—we thought Alex would have his pick of jobs because he always has. We planned on moving to a boarding school where we would be given a free house to live in with virtually no bills to pay for years so we could save up tons of money to eventually buy a house and support our family. We’d raise our babies in a close-knit/built-in community without the stress of commuting, daycare, or bills. It’d be no problem for me to stay home with the kids during their early years. I could slowly build up my art career without the pressure of needing to bring home the bacon. Doesn’t that sound perfect? It did to us.

There are several cliché phrases you hear about pregnancy—”there is no right/perfect time, you have to just go for it if you want children,” “nothing can prepare you for what you’ll go through when you experience pregnancy/become a parent,” “having a child changes everything.” As cliché as these phrases are, they are absolutely true! They are true in a way you can’t understand until it happens to you and you suddenly find yourself saying “oh crap! This is what they meant.” You can devise a “plan” all you want for attacking trying to conceive, pregnancy, and becoming parents, but it will all shake down the way it’s going to shake down.  You cannot control it (something I have had to repeat to myself a billion times over the last year).

My experience: I read everything ever written on conceiving a child, ate a perfect diet, took all the right vitamins and supplements, had weekly acupuncture, kept myself calm with yoga and meditation, exercised, charted my Basal Body Temperature every morning, peed on ovulation predictor strips…and it happened on its own, when I didn’t feel like I was “trying.” Next up, pregnancy. I always imagined I’d love being pregnant, that I’d feel healthy and vital and charged to get things done, that my life wouldn’t change all that much until the child came…but EVERYTHING about my life has changed since I was only 7 weeks pregnant. I hated being pregnant for the first four months, and even now that I’m feeling better and love this belly, I’ve still never felt weaker or less productive and other than writing this blog, I struggle to find any small piece of my life that still feels like it is mine. Then there’s becoming a parent—I already feel and act like a parent to this little girl, but I have yet to experience actually having a baby in the house 24/7 that I am completely responsible for, so I can only speculate…but I’d wager my “plans” and visions will only be laughed at once again.

Don’t get me wrong, this is an incredible experience, one that I am certain is shaping me into a better version of myself than I’ve ever been, but there is more truth than most people share. Or maybe it’s just that when we hear veterans tell us stories, it doesn’t reverberate inside us the way it would if we could grasp the intensity of the situation from personal experience. Either way, it’s felt more like a string of surprises than anything I could have prepared myself for. But, I guess that’s what life is, isn’t it? The trick is being able to surrender to it all, to accept things as they come rather than create anxiety by trying to predict them (not a strong suit of mine). The trick is being willing to let go of everything you’ve known before so you can become something new, because life is not going to stop changing on account of your resistance.

24 weeks

It’s interesting to look back at the evolution of my New Year’s Eve celebrations the last few years. Four years ago, I had only been dating my husband for two weeks—there were lots of drinks involved, people throwing up in the bathroom, and I had to serve as our designated driver. Three years ago, I was newly engaged—we turned down an invitation to go to some newfangled rave club in NYC that featured naked women with mermaid tails swimming in large fish bowls suspended from the ceiling…and instead went to see Avatar at the IMAX 3D theater, came home and had one drink each. Last year, I was newly married—we spent the evening with a 2-year-old, no drinks. This year, I was pregnant—although I had a friend over during the day who kept mentioning New Year’s Eve, it didn’t click that it actually was New Year’s Eve that night (I kept thinking it was days away). Neither my husband nor I realized it was NYE until 5:30 pm! We discussed how boring the holiday has become for us over the years as we placed our hands on my growing belly and shouted every time our tiny dancer kicked. We caught up on this season’s Office episodes and were in bed by 10:00 pm. Life is clearly changing.

The most exciting part of it being 2012 is that this is my baby girl’s year! Soon enough she will make her entrance into this world and a new chapter of life will begin. I am growing incredibly impatient for that day to arrive—with every kick to the belly, I am crazy yearning to pull her out and into my arms to cuddle. As much as I want to slow down and enjoy these last few months alone with my husband, the last few months our lives will ever be this quiet, it’s hard to do when I think about this little being I’ve waited my whole life to meet. It’s quite similar to how I felt before I started dating my husband—so incredibly difficult to wait for my soulmate to arrive.

house projects

There is SO much going on in our house right now. It seems all the major house projects we’ve had in the works for a while are all reaching critical points and will be finished within the next few weeks….from nursery renovations to dinning room renovations to new doors being installed to a new heating system that will turn our house into a complete construction zone for an entire week. I absolutely canNOT wait for the house to reach a place of calm, something I haven’t experienced since we moved in. 

Dinning room renovations: deciding between these two colors…

Martha Stewart Fennel Seed

Martha Stewart Bayou

And hanging this chandelier:



This week, my husband will put the finishing touches on the nursery renovations that he has been working on for months! It’s been frustrating all around to transform that room into a usable space, and my husband’s limited free time has not made it any easier. But, the walls and ceilings have been de-wallpapered and patched and the room painted a comforting shade of buttery cream (color on the right, Benjamin Moore Sugar Cookie). It has just enough yellow in it to bring a little sunshine into what is a very dark room. The next step is moving the crib and dresser in and working on the MANY decorative touches I have dreamt up. The first is choosing the main fabric for the room, out of which my amazing and talented friend Hannah will make curtains, a crib skirt and possibly some throw pillows. Here are the fabrics I’m considering:




Another idea I’m contemplating is hanging handmade 3D flowers on the walls. Either small ones like these above the crib:

Or large ones like these, which I’d hang in the corners or on one wall of the room (these are hanging on the wall at the amazing coffee house/restaurant/art shop/general store down the street): 




Then I’d like to recreate this painting that I will hang in a gallery display on one wall of the nursery with other pieces of art I will make/buy (painting by Mati Rose):


Another piece of art I’d like to recreate using fabric:


Phew! Lots going on in this house! I will post the end results soon!

hello 2012


I began 2011 with a poem I wrote, and I’m going to begin this year with the same poem because, as I look back on it, I amazed by how I set the tone for the year so accurately. I would call 2011 the year of transition and change, something I was clearly preparing myself for last January 1st…

Incredible it is, to discover
how fiercely and endlessly
we can hold on 
to a life that has become stale; 
electing for comfortable misery 
over joyous rebirth, 
only to spare ourselves 
from colliding with the unknown, 
the foreign, the uncharted realms 
of a new life. 
But, the clock is urgently begging you, 
calling to you with every tick 
to live life with audacity, 
a life that makes your heart undulate 
with vigor; whether your steps 
are timid or confident 
is unimportant. 
Sometimes you have to question 
the concept of comfort- 
would your life become more brilliant 
and genuine 
if you could endure 
the momentary discomfort required 
to dare to walk toward the unknown? 

  ~Lola Rain 

I can’t say that 2011 was a lot of fun, but I did do a lot of walking toward the unknown—it was an intense period of shifting, dreaming, and creating an entirely new life. The momentary discomfort was well worth it…a theme that repeatedly showed itself throughout the year. 


Last New Year’s, I sat on my couch on the 15th floor of a modern high-rise, writing a poem, while the noisy city bustled and honked below, the New York City smog chocking me. I had no idea where I was going, but knew everything was going to change. 



I began the year still in a honeymoon/newlywed haze after spending two romantic weeks in Antigua with my husband. We had all the time in the world to ourselves at the beginning of 2011. We slept in, we watched every movie ever made, we ate waffles at midnight, we went on a date every Friday night, we made out on the couch.


Life began to change. I spent 6 months nannying two little boys. I took an 8-hour train ride up North to help take care of my newborn niece. I didn’t sleep. I was completely exhausted for months. Amidst it all, I was ready to make babies of my own.  




I watched my mother-in-law become Secretary of State. I walked down the longest red carpet I’ve ever seen, totally blinded by flashing cameras and TV reporters. I suddenly felt incredibly mournful, wishing I hadn’t lost my childhood ability to paint. I started painting again. I painted A LOT (here and here and here and here…on and on). I had my first photography art show



I finally got my wedding photos. My husband quit his job. We spent months in utter panic, cursing the job market and having no idea where in the United we’d end up. We traveled and visited new places. My husband accepted a job in the Berkshires of Western Mass. The very next day we heard from a school in Colorado….our dream location….we’re already committed…it wasn’t meant to be. We pack up the contents of our first home together and reminisce about the best two years of our lives.



We move in with my mother-in-law for the summer. We desperately try to find a house to buy, and stressfully fill out paperwork until our fingers bleed from paper cuts. We close on a house the very day before my husband starts his new job. Phew!




We find a little peace on a yoga retreat. We find a little more in Vermont….and some more in Vermont. We camp in the Adirondacks….a trip that changed our life forever. I spent a lot of time with my nieces. One of my nieces tells me I have a baby girl in my belly when I am 2 days pregnant. I cry because I don’t think I do. The pregnancy symptoms crop up left and right.




At 6 am one summer morning, my husband tells me to get out of bed and take a pregnancy test. It’s positive. Woah. Life begins to change rapidly….and I spend the first 4 months in our new house surrounded by boxes I can’t unpack and food I can’t eat. I’m convinced I have the world’s longest running stomach flu (hello momentary discomfort). Then we see our baby girl for the first time on a fuzzy black and white monitor. I am in love. My body is no longer mine. I watch in awe.

Minutes after finding out I was pregnant—too excited to not be blurry.

I thought this bump was enormous…
I was wrong.

Today, I am sitting on my couch in a cozy white house nestled in a small country town, reflecting on a year of crazy tumult and exciting changes, while the silence and mountain air outside my windows soothes me and promises to let me breathe this year. I look forward to the year my first child will be born. That will surely bring about a lot of new changes, but in a way it makes me feel more stable and settled than ever. Here’s to 2012!    

23 weeks

The holidays were a whirlwind, which is why I haven’t been posting (I thought I could do it from the road, but that didn’t happen). We had a lovely time visiting both sides of Alex’s family though. I found it especially interesting to note all the changes from this year as opposed to last….my goodness life moves fast! At least it does in our case, most of which I attribute to being in our 30’s when all of life’s big events tend to unfold. At any rate, this year I was carting around a pregnant belly for everyone to gush over and touch while last year I strolled in fresh off my honeymoon, tan and entranced in a bubbly, gooey-eyed love fest with my new husband (I distinctly remember my father-in-law telling us to relax on the PDA). This year also felt more like a baby shower for me given baby girl got more presents than her parents (with the remainder of the gifts being for our new house, another change).
Every year Alex’s dad puts out little Christmas teddy bears that represent our family (so cute). They are each dressed in different outfits and have our names written on signs tied around their necks. It’s so amazing to watch the clan grow! This year there was a new little bear wearing a homemade cloth diaper for my niece Olivia who was still in my sister-in-law’s belly last Christmas. Looking at that bear was one of those moments where it hit me that this hungry being dancing in my belly will soon be an actual member of the family. Next year she will have a bear with her name on it, she’ll be crawling around in the wrapping paper and stealing everyone’s hearts. 23 weeks in and the reality of this is still NUTS to me.
Also nuts, our house has officially exploded in baby gear. On top of our Christmas haul, we received a huge carload of baby clothes and baby necessities from my wonderful sister-in-law (lucky us we are having a girl, which meant lots of hand-me-downs from our two nieces!). Having our house taken over by piles of teeny tiny pink clothes, car seats, boppy pillows, breast pumps, and nursery decorations really seems to bring home (literally) how much our immaculate Pottery Barn lifestyle, complete with millions of small, swallowable trinkets decorating every room will soon be a thing of the past.
Meanwhile, the belly is picking up speed. I am amazed at how quickly it’s growing now—it was such a slow process before. Over Christmas there was literally a night that I went to bed and when I woke up it was evident to everyone in the house that I had grown overnight. Insane. I stepped on the scale when we got home after the holidays and suddenly realized this baby is for real, and she’s growing like a weed now. This is happening!

take me away


This time last year Alex and I were in beautiful Antigua. It was probably the best trip of my life, and was so heavenly and meaningful that I can easily recapture a slice of the experience any time I close my eyes and think about it. I don’t know that I’ve ever been on another trip that has afforded me that kind of long-term effect—instant happiness at just the thought of that magical island. At any rate, I’m thinking about Antigua right now, amidst all the craziness of holiday preparations and a house that seems so chaotic and completely out of control with renovations and messes in every room. I could use a tropical vacation right about now! 


the other side of the bump: swing construction

This post was written by my husband, Alex. We are going to try to have him post a semi-regular series: the other side of the bump. Men’s and women’s experiences of the same event are drastically different, and I’m fascinated by these differences. When it comes to the topic of parenting and pregnancy, I’m especially curious to read his thoughts. I hope you enjoy the series! 


I put together a swing last week.  More specifically, I assembled the Bright Starts ™ Cradle and Sway Swing from the InGenuity collection, model I-56, offering comfort Recline adjustable positions, Whisper Quiet Operation (for peaceful rocking), True Speed sustained swinging speed, and touting Bella Vista snail/ball/bumble bee accessories and the efficient hybridrive™, meaning, of course, that excessive battery use is no longer a problem.  Apparently, this device will someday swing my child.  I haven’t met this child, but I am told that when they do come to exist, they will need some swinging.  That was where I came in to the equation.      
 
The swing came tumbling out of the shipping box in an overwhelming mass of plastic parts and jingling hardware one evening several weeks ago.  Luckily the instructions were written in six languages.  As I sought one familiar to me, I told myself this would be a valuable experience for me.  It did seem vaguely fulfilling, like the civic satisfaction of voting in an election, despite having no knowledge or interest in the candidates that will one day take an office I know nothing about.  Well, at least my wife will be happy with me anyways, I told myself, leafing through the monstrous manual. 

I had done this type of work for her before.  I had assembled an impressive portfolio of particle-board achievements: bookcases, polyester coated lounge chairs, you name it.  I had Philip’s head screw-drived and mini-alan wrenched my way into the annals of home furniture construction.  I enjoyed the challenge, I told myself, somewhat convincingly.  And yet, this was different.  For one, it was gray plastic, cut into strange curvy angles I was unfamiliar with.  And more importantly, it came with many unanswered questions.  What would the final product be?  What purpose would this serve in my life?  Why should I spend several hours callous-ing my hands, cursing distant and perhaps non-human manufacturers, and puzzling together part L with hardware number 20043?  For what tangible reward?  I needed more information.  I looked to the picture of the swing on the box for answers, and into the eyes of the model baby in the swing on the cover, sporting a look of mixed satisfaction and confusion.  The child in the picture seemed as befuddled as I.  “Why am I in this strange swaying chair,” he/she/it seemed to say, “When will I be getting out?  What do they want from me?  I guess I’m happy here, but I really have no context to judge this experience by.”  Comforted that someone, albeit a stranger in a picture likely under the age of one, had similar feelings about this swing, I looked at the swing itself on the cover as a guide for my labors.

The assembly itself was mostly painless at first.  I blew through the first seven steps.  The wily European manufacturers only required that I snap a few pieces of plastic to each other.  They clearly had experience with the chronically inept, I thought to myself smugly.  But then came step eight…  Simply screw a long screw into place, the directions instructed, matter-of-factly.  What they failed to impart was that you needed to hold three different heavy plastic parts in precise alignment while you screwed in this screw.  How many able parents did they think our imaginary, soon-to-be-real, child had?  For the next hour I cursed as I failed with the screw several times, tried it backwards, failed again, looked at the child on the box again for answers, failed again with the screw, looked at the child on the box under better lighting, shared another moment with he/she/it, and then finally succeeded.  With the infamous step eight complete, the only remaining challenges were with how to set up the accoutrements for my soon-to-be child.  There was the seat cover, the velvety bumblebees to circle above the child’s head (didn’t sound comforting in theory, but I guess these were a different brand of the feared stinging insects, they were smiling…), and a snail and box of the same material to attach to the provided tray.  After I attached each of these pieces, I called to Alexa to look at the swing and get her reaction.  Of course, every time her reaction was the gooey smile and cooing that all women, particularly in child-bearing years, seem to get, even at the mention of a baby.  But somehow I needed this reaction to keep on going.  Finally, when the whole of it was put together, I put in the batteries and turned it on.  It played songs or alternatively, babbling water to ease this soon-to-be-not-hypothetical child.  So I pushed the swing and played the song to congratulate myself on a job well done, and for more gooey smiles and cooing. 

And now, every so often, I turn on the swing.  I give it a push and turn on the song.  I leave it to gently rock in the corner and play its magical music in the subtle background.  I look back at the swing and try to picture a girl in there sleeping gently, but I cannot.  In the attempt to create the image, it melts from my eyes like a fading dream.  So I turn back to my computer and continue reading about the Patriots, but the song continues lightly behind me to the gentle sound of swinging.