Foot Brakes

I am not a child. But, I am still convinced that foot brakes are the way to go for bicycling. I'm sure there is a perfectly sophisticated explanation for why big time adult bikers need hand brakes- but I think it is counter-intuitive.

Where did this come from? My Dad sent out an email to the family updating us on our biggest loser competition (we're all trying to lose weight)- I'm losing by the way, and not in a good way. In the email, Dad casually mentions that he is cleaning out the garage and our bikes will be shipped to charity by next week unless we claim them. I selfishly really kind of want my bike, but am still trying to figure out a proper justification for why I need it more than some charitable organization. I mention to Jason my ethical dillemma and how much I like my bike because it has foot brakes and a nice cushy seat. He does that half-laugh to my foot brake comment and asks if it's a kids bike. And so it begins.

It is not a kids bike. It is for smart adults like me who are used to braking with their feet. Every other moving mechanism we utilize on solid ground has a foot brake. Cars- foot brake. Skates- foot brake. Go-carts- foot brake. Skiing- foot brake (really you just fall or stop moving- but if you're skilled- you use your feet). You see my point- our brains are wired to STOP with our FEET. SO- why is it childish for a person who is an experienced driver to want their bike to have foot brakes? I don't know. Yes, perhaps we started with foot brakes on the kid bikes- but why did we change? I don't brake the car with my hands now that I'm a grown-up, do I?

It isn't a big deal. But I think I'm now a little self-conscious about the foot brake bike and I resent that! It makes sense to brake with your foot. I tried the hand brakes- they were never as effective as the foot brakes (you had to squeeze too long and hard and help out with your feet- if you were to be in close call- chances are you would just throw your feet to the ground) and I always had my feet wanting to do something...

What do you think? foot brake or hand brake?

and yes, i just wrote an entire blog on bike brakes.

Happy Anniversary?

Tomorrow marks 3 years that Jason and I have been married. I have spent most of the marriage being spoiled and surprised by my husband, so this time around I thought I would take a crack at being the thoughtful one. This is how well that went:

A couple of weeks ago I decided it would be ideal to surprise my husband with a night out at the same bed and breakfast that we spent our wedding night in. The perks about this bed and breakfast: the suite (we did not have the suite for our wedding night) has a jacuzzi, sauna, king sized bed and a fireplace. How can you go wrong? I called the in-laws to see if they could come up for the Friday after our anniversary - this Friday. They say yes with enthusiasm because they are AWESOME and love Hunter to pieces. I feel slightly like a bad Mom for being super pumped to spend a night out without potential night-time wake-ups or 6am feeding. So I call the B&B with my plans all laid out.

they're booked.

That sort of stopped me in my tracks. Dang it. My plans never seem to work out. So I go online and look for other options (the criteria: king bed, jacuzzi, reasonable price and local). There are no places anywhere in Northern Virginia that fit the bill without being a super-lame hotel or uber-expensive. Then suddenly it dawns on me, there is a little tiny event called Inauguration that is occuring next Tuesday which has all of the hotels from here to Timbuktu booked. So- my online search for the perfect hotel was futile. No room in the inns. So I go back to the in-laws, ask them if this past Friday would work for them- they check their calendars and again are enthusiastic and pleased to help. I call B&B and book the suite for Friday. Plan on!

Jason doesn't have a clue.

I plan and devise all week- knowing I will have Friday to prepare and pack without Jason's knowledge- so excited am I. Friday morning I take advantage of Hunter's long morning nap and shave my legs so I feel all special and nice. A new Mom in the winter- well - my legs hadn't felt that smooth in a while.

Friday afternoon- this is when the story starts. Jason has planned on getting some donated furniture from a church member's work place and bringing it to the church. The church member is so kind to donate a truck rental (as in U-Haul) for the job, and Jason recruits some friends and his brothers who are in town to help. Chaos and disaster follow. "Some furniture" turns into a warehouse supply and "some friends" turns in to jumbled schedules and limited time when all was said and done. Jason and company didn't start moving furniture unti 4pm and I kept getting enlisted to do random tasks to help (can you come pick up the truck with me? can you order a pizza for the guys so they can eat? can you tell me how many pieces of furniture we're supposed to be getting? Can you answer the phone every 20 minutes to answer my questions?) I was running around with Hunter in my arms- trying desperately to accomplish what I wanted while fielding Jason's calls.

Oh- I almost forgot- we had a staff party to go to that night. I was supposed to wrap the white elephant gifts and make a salad and grab some wrapping paper from somebody's office for them. Jason called me at 6:30 to say he was no where near being done and that I should go to the party alone. Little did he realize that I had planned on him being with me and that I certainly did not want to be driving 40 minutes to a party when his parents would be arriving to take Hunter and let us go either to dinner or the party or the B&B. So I made the salad and got the wrapping paper and sent it along with someone nearby who was going to the party while calling the host and apologizing for our absence.

I ended up eating pepperoni pizza by myself.

Jason and his brother Mikey finished the job (yea for Mikey's help), he came home and scarfed down some pizza and then I noticed it:

Jason had broken out into hives. Head to toe. Hives with white welt-like things. Hives.

So Jason took a shower, scrubbed himself down and took two Benadryl. Hives gone. About an hour later his parents arrived and Jason was (to my delight)- completely surprised. We finally made it out the door to the B&B which is just down the street. The room was wonderful and we immediately filled up the jacuzzi- although we didn't read the instructions- so the water started getting cold and we shut it off- but it was full enough for the jets! I had remembered only a few things- but bubbles was one of them. The bubbles were so ridiculous that we had to spend a couple minutes stamping them down so we could see each other!

So things that went right: it was a surprise, it was so so nice, the jacuzzi was lovely, the sauna was fun, the company was great.

Things that went funny: I didn't have any food so we ran to Safeway (romantic!), I grabbed two decks of cards for double solitaire and one deck was missing a card (but the B&B ppl had a deck), I spilled my wine on a chair (woops), and last but not least:

Jason's benadryl kicked in. 11pm- snoring husband. I would complain except about 10 minutes later I could barely keep my eyes open.

So we paid for the bed and breakfast night primarily and successfully to get a full night's sleep. It was the typical new parent's night out. Jason and I woke up around 8:30 (I think both of us had been tossing and turning for a little bit) and we had a fabulous breakfast. We tried the jacuzzi once again (this time following instructions) and ended up talking about work and the damn furniture fiasco. But we also talked about our marriage and how much we love each other and what amazing things have happened in just 3 years.

So- Happy Anniversary to us- hived, sleep deprived and happy.

"Can you hold this?"

This must be documented. I don't know how long I have ("in" a meeting)- but here we go... in the last 1 hour the following succession of events occured:
-got home from work, peaceful, baby is happy, hubby is happy- talk to my sister who just had her baby- bliss bliss.
-hubby reminds me we need to get snacks for evening meeting that we are both running (unusual to both run one meeting- but it is the case tonight). I volunteer to get veggie tray from store and off I go as baby is still napping but should get up soon and want to eat.
-grocery store trip a success- one of those rare occasions when the express line opens up just as you walk up and it takes you all of 2 minutes. beautiful.
-I think- gosh- that was quick, and I have a $20 gift card to Starbucks - and Starbucks is across the street- I deserve a little treat and so does Jason- I'll stop by!
this is when Murphy's law goes into affect.
-Starbucks takes a moderate amount of time, I listen to two college students "totally raving" about some music that is "so money" and "awesome man, Yes to it all!" I think it was music- maybe it was something else. I suddenly felt old as I was sure one of my boobs had started dripping. I get my mocha for me and a caramel apple something for Jason. Go to the car- drive home.
-I get home and the door is opened for me by Jason with baby crying in arms and dog close behind with muddy feet. Jason wants me to feed Hunter and stop the dog from walking anywhere until he can get to his paws (how I can do both- not sure). So I stand with Hunter, crying in my arms and block Bruno, our St. Bernard from the door (he's not smart enough to know that A- there's another door and B- he's stronger than me). Jason gets a towel- I grab my mocha and notebook and head to the nursery.
-I put mocha down, then put notebook down- you know what is going to happen... notebook slides into mocha and mocha falls falls falls down to the floor. It looked like a mocha kamikazi. I have never seen a spill go in so many directions. I said loudly and very clearly "shit!" Jason asks what happened- and to keep the suspense going I say nothing and stare at chocolate remains on the walls, chair, floor, table, and rug. Jason rushes in assuming Hunter has been horribly disfigured to find me staring, Hunter crying, and our hardwood floors slowly staining brown.
-Jason rushes to clean up the mocha. I smell distinct odors of poop and change Hunter who is hungry and poopy- which makes for a loud diaper change. Jason tidies up the rocking chair enough for me to sit in with Hunter who no longer has pants. Enter muddy St. Bernard. In the commotion, his paws were never completely cleaned and so add paw prints to mocha kamikazi. Bruno wants to lick the mocha, Hunter is trying to eat and I'm directing Jason to missed spots on the blinds and behind the crib. Bruno finally gets evicted, Hunter gets fed and the nursery is somewhat cleaned with a faint smell of chocolate and coffee (not bad). We have 15 minutes til said meeting.
-Jason leaves for meeting, Hunter spits up, I gather my things and head to meeting. We start meeting, Hunter starts talking- only he is experimenting with high decibel yelling right now- so I leave and Jason and I literally tag team the rest of the meeting.
-in typing this I have led 1/2 of a training meeting, nursed Hunter, encouraged him to roll over and noticed dried spit up on my sleeve. He now needs a poopy diaper changed.

It's not a good thing when you say to your husband at work "Can you hold this?" and he points out that "this" is your son. Why am I working again?

Christmas

People ask me if having Hunter makes Christmas more special. It's like asking me if having air makes it easier to breath. Everything in life is more special because of Hunter. I never believed I would be so easily lifted by a little breathy laugh, so joyous with a gummy smile and so giddy about some seriously poopy pants.

Hunter is life animated to me- he's like having rose colored glasses for life. There are certainly frustrating moments and work is still work- but things are changed. Little things don't bother me as much- big things are important and sleep is a luxury I don't mind too terribly badly to give up once in a while.

Now I am waiting for a little girl to arrive in Nashville- and I'm looking forward to seeing my sister experience this craziness they call motherhood. I wonder if she'll experience it like I did or completely different. Will she be overwhelmed and insane at first and not know if she was supposed to cross the mommy line (like me) or will she fall right into it like an old hat? It didn't take me lolng to get comfortable with my new role- but it did take some time. All I know is that single moms are genuine miracles. It is impossible.

Hunter is sleeping now- and I can't help but think of Christmases in the future when he will be so excited about Christmas. I'm excited about experiencing that magic again. This year we are bad Christmas magicians. Tomorrow there will be no gifts, no stockings, nothing. I will make pancakes and we might have some breakfast in bed- but nothing. We are waiting to do Christmas with my family in Nashville on the 30th (pending my niece's arrival date). But Jason and I made a pact not to get each other gifts because we've spent so much on ourselves already this year! We didn't get Hunter anything because he doesn't need anything and he's 3.5 months old. Aren't we terrible? But in some way-our first Christmas as this family will be perfect. It'll be just us- just time spent together with no obligations or worries. We can tell Hunter about why we celebrate, we can tell each other how much we appreciate being together, we can share memories of Christmas' past and scheme about traditions we want to start for our family future.

I recited as much as I could remember from The Night Before Christmas to Hunter tonight- he smiled at me. I love him so much.

Hunter Isaac Snow

I have been terrible at updating this blog. Right now I have about 15 minutes before Hunter will be ready to eat again- so I will post a short thing- letting the world know about my new life and hopefully my new comittment to write about it.

I need to learn how to do all the fancy things like posting pictures, etc. But for now you get words.

Hunter Isaac Snow was born on September 16th at 9:22am. I really don't believe the statement I just made. Being pregnant and wrapping your head around that phenomenon is a completely tame idea compared with the profound and hard to grasp reality of a human child living in your care. I even question that his name is Hunter. It seems ridiculous that I had the power (together with Jason) to name a human. I call him Hunter and every now and then my voice has an element of hesitation- like I am asking him if I am mistaken. He is utterly and completely dependent upon me- more so than on anyone else- and yet I feel strangely dependent on him. If he was not around- my days would not be organized around his needs, his smiles, his pooping and burping abilities. I live each day in part to maintain the survival of another human being. That is daunting and inspiring at the same time.

Motherhood is something people either treat as sainthood to be aspired to or completely mundane and to be avoided. My vote is that it lies somewhere in the middle. Motherhood, at least for me in this early stage, is very primal. People talk in rosy terms and it doesn't seem to quite grasp the depth of dependence for survival that is required of mothers. People apologize for my lack of sleep and are amazed at how well I've handled it. I wonder to myself- is there really any other option? You have to get up. That neccessity makes it something that doesn't cause me to feel rosy or mundane. Like a mother bird travelling the skies for food for her little ones- she probably doesn't feel proud of herself for feeding her chicks, nor does she find her job useless and mudane. Primal. It's the best word I can use. So everything I do for Hunter at this point is a very real job- the most important job with satisfaction measured in growth and the signs of contentment from a baby. It is odd that a baby who cannot speak and barely responds can offer such positive affirmation in this job. But one of the most affirming things I have encountered is a good, solid burp from Hunter.

Don't get me wrong in the job analogy- there are rosy elements. I love it when Hunter is done eating and his face is covered with the remnants of the last few sips he took when his tummy was full but his mouth was on automatic. It is a miracle in itself that somehow I am able to provide nourishment enough to feed and grow a child for months. It is similar to how I felt about the pregnancy. I did literally nothing - and yet something perfect was growing and forming inside me. Now I still do nothing- I try to eat well and drink lots of water, but these are things I try to do anyway. Now I have a more pointed purpose- but yet all in all- I do nothing and these miracles occur in and around me. It is nature, biology, things functioning as they should... yet it is personal and miraculous, something that doesn't seem like steril science.

I love it when Hunter smiles, these smiles I take as genuine smiles- I don't care what people say about gas or poop- he's smiling. I love it when Hunter is sleeping so contentedly- it is the epitome of innocence. I even love when Hunter projectile poops or pees- he has no idea the chaos it could cause or why it might be hilarious- he is just doing his business at the particular time we have his diaper off. I love it when Hunter sneezes- it's the perfect little sneeze and he often has a little grin on his face afterward that looks like satisfaction.

So, since I started this entry, I've fed Hunter, watched him coo for a guest and put him down for a nap. He seems to be enjoying today. We had some issues with our heater (one really- namely it wasn't working) and someone from the church came by and did some magic and now it works! Poor Hunter had to be cold last night, and he was a little more restless through the night. So here's hoping that tonight he will sleep better since it will be warmer.

Ok- so that's my post for now- I'll write more later between feedings, between naps, between poops. I'll try to be honest and yet I will keep the light on.

Things to be Thankful for

I'm not a habitually grateful person. Unfortunately I am not one of those that wakes up every morning to seize the day, thank the sun for rising and the day for starting. I leave all the lights off, slowly ease my way into the morning, and wait until the last minute to put my hearing aids in. It may be this morning mentality that prevents me from counting my blessings. However- today- in a random way (on my way to the bathroom)- I was struck by the things I am thankful for...

1) At my office, the bathroom is literally right next to my office. Who can beat that for a pregnant lady?
2) I work about 20 hours a week in a fairly stress-free part-time job.
3) I walk across the street to go to work, by the time I've worked up any semblance of sweat- I'm indoors with some of the most hot-natured air-conditioning loving people I know. I am not hot and it's July!
4) My husband fixes me breakfast on a semi-regular basis. I'm talking bacon, eggs and toast.
5) The way my desk is and every other place I hang out between work and home- I usually have a place to put my feet up. Swelling has not been an issue and my feet feel great. I rarely have to stand for a long period of time.
6) I have an endless supply of cold water at home and at work.
7) My dog doesn't jump on me- only on my husband.
8) My cell phone enables me to keep in touch with my family and all friends who can help me when I am clueless about what to do next.
9) I like my doctor, and she likes me.
10) I live in Northern Virginia- and although the pace is hectic and the prices are high- the hospitals are superb.
11) I have had all the right symptoms of pregnancy- down to the pelvic stretching (more on that later maybe) that will hopefully prepare me for a normal birth. I even haven't had much heartburn.
12) I am in a church that has embraced my husband and me to the extent of being beyond spoiled. This church hasn't seen a baby from the staff in a while- and seem content to be ridiculously excited about it.
13) Between church, family, and random neighbors- I am told about 3 times a day how great I look.
14) We have been blessed financially through generous gifts from our family, and also support from our church.
15) Everyone who has had a boy within the last 6 months is keen on giving us all their clothes that their little ones have grown out of, meaning we will not be purchasing clothes for about 7 years.
16) Likewise, anyone who has been pregnant, ever, has given me clothes, pillows, bras, etc- and the rest has been filled in by my mother- the world's best bargain shopper.

I'm going to miss being pregnant- I really think so. I am one of THOSE weird women. This is not so bad. I will have to remember this time- because next time won't be so easy or at least so ridiculously easy. But who knows- now that I've counted these blessings- I'm starting to think maybe this is just how things are for us! : ) We are blessed!

Pregnancy Files

I update my family from time to time with an email I title "Pregnancy Files"- it is pretty sporadic and mostly when there is any news or I am struck by something in my pregnancy... I just wrote one today and thought I'd post it here, since I haven't updated my blog in a while!

It's been a while since I've sent any updates! I think really because nothing has been happening- other than being told how "big" I've gotten.

I think people think it feels good to be called big, like when you were 4 and you couldn't wait to be 14. And I admit- the first few people who commented on how lovely and pregnant looking I was- the "big" comment was more like a compliment- like I was now officially pregnant. The problem occurs when you start hearing "wow- you've really popped" about a dozen times a day, and sometimes from a repeat offender. Family gets to say it because they are family and they don't see you all the time. Everyone else- enough already! I swear, by the comments I have received, that I have sufficiently "popped" about 147 times in the last 4 weeks alone. Amazing, and really I should be huge with that much popping... but I feel normal, sufficiently once "popped" and pregnant.

I'm in my 6th month- this Wednesday will be the 24 week routine check up. The first check up since we had our ultrasound and found out we had a healthy baby boy. I'm excited to go to this visit only because it feels like so long since the last visit, and I have a feeling there is more information to be had and spread now. Or I'll just pee in a cup and come back in 4 more weeks.

People keep asking me how I feel and my base response is "I can't complain." I think it is good- because I really can't. I feel pregnant- but by the looks of how things could be- I'm feeling pretty good! I've never been dressed as cute except maybe when I was 4, I've never been complimented and doted upon so much in my life- how could I complain? The biggest nuisance is peeing more often- but I get to eat more ice cream, so it's a win-win situation. : )

Baby Boy Snow has developed the following habits: kicking my bladder. It is the coolest thing to finally be able to feel the baby (which I have been able to more in this last week than ever before!)- but it seems that his favorite target is Mommy's bladder. I keep telling him that it is impolite, he should go for the kidney or maybe even the front of my belly so Jason gets a chance to feel him. He's not big enough or kicking hard enough for anyone else to feel him- so it's a neat private party between the two of us. Another thing he has picked up is hanging out on the left side of my belly. I can just feel him kind of all the way over- squishing on that side, hanging out. I feel like he could be using his space more efficiently, but maybe he's training for the "trapped" feeling he'll have when he grows to fill the whole belly.

I told Baby Boy Snow (no- we have no real names yet) that he is so lucky because he will have cousins who are basically the same age as he is! He kicked my bladder in happy response.