These are the people in your neighborhood

I can't go for walks without being teased by the whole neighborhood.  It started a few weeks ago.  I was walking Eli, Leroy and Jack.  We came upon a group of teenage boys with their pants belted around their knees.  I heard one of them say to the other, "Look, the wife's got the baby."  He said to me, "It's about time you gave your husband a day off."  Yesterday, I obliged Kenny's request for a family walk.  I wore Eli in the Bjorn and Kenny had the two dogs.  We were walking down the street when I heard a guy shouting at us from his second floor balcony.  "I've never seen you with the baby."  In all fairness, I always do Sunday mornings, but it continued today. Kenny decided to go for an 80-mile bike ride without training today (yep).  A man with a Green Bay shirt and a stroller and a homeless woman both commented on their unfamiliarity with me in the dog/baby walking context. The homeless woman went so far as to stop me a second time and say, "I know why you're walking them!  He's watching football."

Kenny got to try out my wrap last week (pictured above). The Bjorn was closed for repairs after a vomiting episode.  He walks the crew first thing in the morning while I shower, once around noon, and again before I get home from work.  If the neighborhood were a bar, he would be a regular.  A very conspicuous regular, surrounded in adorable.

Pride

Many of our friends do races.  Our friend, Lisa, recently did a triathlon.  This triggered Kenny to make the sort of comment that he often makes in these circumstances.  "Oh yeah, I could definitely do that tomorrow if I wanted to."  I'm pretty sure he in fact made this comment to her.  I laugh at him when he says things like this because of all things, running?  Running is not his strong suit.  The last time he went for a run was eight years ago when he went accepted an invitation to go on a run with my roommate at the time so he could get permission to date me.*  I think his comments belittle/underestimate the work people do to get ready for these races.  So.  When he made this comment in regards to Lisa's triathlon I called his bluff.  Incredulous that I had no faith in his abilities, he agreed to run 10K** to prove me wrong.  Saturday night he created his running play list.  He put a scrap of paper with his name and my phone number in his shoe (should he keel over with a heart attack halfway through somebody might be able to call me and let me know where to pick up the body).  After considerable stretching and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he took off Sunday morning.  He returned 65 minutes later looking surprisingly alive.  For the rest of the morning he made passive agressive comments to Eli about how you should never let anybody tell you you can't do something.  

Around noon he took the dogs on a two-block walk that lasted about 40 minutes.  We were meeting another friend Lisa at the zoo later.  The train is about a mile from the zoo.  There was much limping and there were many, many breaks.  He trailed us by about 20 feet for much of the walk.

I guess the lesson we all learned from this is that yes, it is possible to run a 10K with no training.  Yes, Kenny in particular can run a 10K with no training. But no, it is not a good idea to run a 10K with no training.

*Why did he have to ask permission you ask.  It's a long story.  

** Was this a 10K as in an organized event wherein people compete or run for charity or such?  No.  This was the 10K Kenny.

The next 8 years.

Eight years ago this evening I was on a first date with the love of my life.  Over the last eight years, we have (in no particular order)

1. Graduated from college.
2. Moved to Washington, DC.
3. Survived my going to grad school.
4. Had our first and second and maybe even third real jobs.
5. Traveled to Las Vegas, Chicago, NYC, Philly, Costa Rica, Spain, Williamsburg, Breckenridge, and Portland.
6. Gotten married.
7. Taken planes, trains, buses, and automobiles to Kansas City and St. Louis one million times.
8. Adopted Jack.
9. Moved to Chicago.
10. Adopted Leroy.
11. Bought a loft and a condo.
12. Evicted a tenant.
13. Had a baby!
14. Lost two of my grandparents.
15. Seen Megan and Andrew, Carri and Derek, Sutton and John, Amy and Patrick, and Lindsey and TJ get married.
16. Hosted six seders.
17. Consumed approximately 500 bottles of wine.

To celebrate the occasion, we went out for Chinese and are now sipping on a bottle of pinot we brought back from Oregon and contemplating the next eight years.  Do you know that we will have a second grader eight years from now?  I've decided we should make a list of things we want to do in the next eight years, and so that we won't lose that list--we're putting it here on the interweb.  Maybe it will make us more accountable too.  During the next eight years, let's

1. Take (swing) dance lessons.
2. Travel to the south of France.
3. Take Eli to a water park.
4. Have another baby.
5. Start canning.
6. Make cheese.
7. Remodel two bathrooms.
8. At least one of us get their dream job.
9. Take Eli to the Magic House and Grant's Farm in St. Louis.
10. Take Eli to Kaleidoscope in KC.
11. Go on a weekend getaway leaving munchkin(s) with a grandparent.
12. Make friends with people who own a boat.
13. Sell a loft and a condo.

Anything critical you think we're forgetting here?  The list is open for suggestions.

1/2 Year Old!

My baby boy turned 6 months this week! 

He still thinks sitting is dumb and is not quite crawling.  If allowed to, he would stand all day.

He got TWO teeth, which is two more than he needs in my opinion.  His overall mood has improved greatly since they finally cut through though.  We’re done with that now, right?

He had his first taste of “solids” (otherwise known as fairly liquid food that just happens to not be breastmilk) yesterday.  He was initially curious though suspicious of our motives.  We debuted with sweet potatoes.  Some made it into his mouth.  Some made it all over his face and hands and diaper and chair.  We believe a small amount made it into his tummy.  Curiosity quickly transitioned to sorrow, anger, and all-out crying. We’ve tried several more times and I believe he and Kenny finally had a positive experience this afternoon. 

He’s become a bit more attached to Kenny and I and a bit wearier of outsiders.  He’s generally happy to grin at people across the room while in our arms, but hand him over and he often makes them feel like they smell bad or something.  We did test him in that area quite a bit though this month.  He’s seen all of his grandparents and even made it to the West coast. 

I, on the other hand, am beginning to feel increasingly like I am losing my mind.  My memory is virtually non-existent.  I don’t know if it’s the weird sleep or the constant changing focus of my attention.  At work, I basically get up every two hours to pump.  At home, I drop whatever I’m doing when he cries.  Maybe pregnancy was just preparing me for this phase.  The other day I stopped a coworker and asked her where she had gotten her shoes because they are exactly what I need for my friend Molly’s wedding.  Apparently I had stopped her on a previous occasion and we had discussed my borrowing them.   I had no memory of this.  Oh well.  Who needs clarity anyway?  Especially when you have a little monkey like this.

Let's all move to Oregon

We spent most of last weekend in Portland, Oregon for our friend Lindsey's wedding and wedding-related activities. I was last there 10 years ago and it's even more beautiful and wonderful than I remembered it. Our friend Wayne's parents were kind enough to allow us to invade their home. They even got some of Wayne's things down from the attic for Eli to play with. This is his first ride in a highchair, and perhaps the longest length of time he's put up with sitting (generally prefers to stand).

On the second day we were there, Lindsey and TJ planned a wine tour complete with bus for a group of about 40 of us. Oregon pinot noirs are among my favorite wines. Splitting and skipping many of the tastings was a bit rough, but the outing was awesome nonetheless. Views like this were around every corner:

We learned that Eli has an embarrassingly accurate knowledge of what to do with glasses of alcohol. Regretfully, I do not have the picture wherein he attempted to fit his whole head in the glass.

Later that week, we visited a few microbreweries (breweries and wineries are just like museums, only tastier). I guess Eli is just in that grab everything and put it in your mouth stage.

After partying all week, some of us found it hard to stay awake for the wedding. There was a live band playing a few feet from him, but he remained fairly dead to the world throughout. He even allowed himself to be passed from lap to lap so mama and daddy could get a few dances in. This is Eli in one of his brief moments of wakefulness during the reception. I believe he awoke to express surprise or disgust with the band's song choice.

As we were leaving, the bride even let him chew on her French-manicured finger tip. That's love.

While waiting for our flight in the Portland airport, Kenny finally did it. He ate a Baconator.

So, let's do it. Let's all move to Portland. Part of the reason we moved to Chicago was to be closer to family so we can't just pick up and move to Portland--but we can if you all come with us!

A new cry

My industrious little baby has found a new reason to cry this week. He's taken to crying because he can't crawl. Patience is not currently his strong suit.

He's been happily playing in his crib. Three times now I've left him in there wiggling on his back and playing with his feet and come back two minutes later to find him on the other side of the crib, sort of up on all fours and pissed because he can't go forward. He looks up at me and then drops his head and cries some more. I really don't know what to do in this situation. I know he knows how to flip himself back onto his back, and he's not going to learn how to crawl if I pick him up with these cries. He just gets so sad and frustrated. I've taken to cheering him on, but I don't think he understands the encouragement.

Ah, traveling with an infant

I wrote half this post two weeks ago, thought I'd go ahead and finish it.

I was not at all concerned about traveling with an infant when I made my reservation. I always under-pack. Whereas most people are afraid they are going to forget something they need, I am usually afraid of carrying something I might not need. I’m usually also afraid of getting to the airport too early. If I can walk up to the gate as they are boarding my section, I consider the venture a success. Things were a bit different this time.

I did manage to pack pretty lightly. I had a baby, a bjorn, a diaper bag, and a rolling carry-on bag. The de-bjorning and re-bjorning to get through security was a bit tricky. Everybody’s advice before the trip was to nurse through take-off and landing and to bring a change of clothes for myself. Many people told me to bring a change of shirt for myself because apparently blow-outs are very common . My baby doesn’t poop though, so that was not a problem.

The journey to DC was fairly uneventful. Security was predictably difficult but people were uber understanding and several let me cut and lifted and pushed my bags without even asking. We had a 30 minute delay once we got on the plane, but Eli thought that would just be an awesome time to take a nap. He thought most of the flight was an awesome time to take a nap in fact. My cheapness led me to choose a flight into one of the less convenient airports. We took a bus to a train to get into the city and went straight to happy hour to meet up with friends. Though Eli has been to bars before, this was his first happy hour experience and he didn't totally catch on to the "happy" part.

I volunteered Megan and I to get the wine for Molly's party. A task that I thought would take about 2 hours. Between stopping to feed us, feed the babies, and a series of other seemingly minor tasks the outing lasted more like 4 or 5 hours. Oops! Oh, and Eli was pretty much just pissed off throughout because I was just not managing to get him his naps and eatings at the right times. I was used to the delays that a baby causes. Much like we were surprised to find out that having two dogs is actually twice the work of having one dog, I was surprised to find that two babies meant twice the delays of one baby. Who knew? The image of Megan and I trekking around DC with babies strapped to our chests, umbrellas, and heavy shopping bags will stay with me for quite some time though.

The shower and bachelorette party were a huge success. We hosted the shower in our hotel room. Everybody fit, the babies obliged, games were played, many bottles of wine were consumed, and it was hard to get people out of the room and onto the bar for the next segment of the night. Two friends were kind enough to babysit because nothing makes a bachelorette party more lame than when two of the hostesses bring their babies to the bars.

Some really awesome friends managed to borrow a car seat so that they could drive Eli and I to the airport on Sunday. Eli slept most of the way there. Things were looking good. And then. I got to the airport check-in counter. The nice man there was unable to find my ticket with my ID. He asked for my itinerary thingy, and it was then that he pointed out my ticket back to Chicago was for the day before. Straight out of an anxiety dream. I just stood there in disbelief. What? No. What? There, written clear as day on my itinerary it said Saturday. Massive fail. He said there were only two more flights to Chicago that night and they both said they were oversold. He got me on standby and told me that if I did not get on one of those tonight he would see me in the morning as he would be the one working then too. I told him I sincerely hoped I would not see him tomorrow. He took pity on me and waived the fee because Southwest is nice. In a state of shock I sort of ran through security too frazzled to figure out if I had a lot or little time to get to the gate. Eli started screaming as if on cue and the airport lady let us go ahead to the front of the line. I called Kenny on the verge of tears and told him we might not make it home that night. I got to the gate and realized we had almost two hours until our first chance at a flight. Eli stepped up and decided to be in an excellent mood while we waited. He ate, he slept, he made adorable sounds. Predictably, we did not make it onto the first flight. I called Molly and started figuring out how I'd get to her house and get to the airport the next morning. When they began boarding for the second flight I got cautiously optimistic when he described the flight as "full" and not "completely full" as he had the previous flight. I changed Eli's diaper and packed us up for the 3rd or 4th time that evening. We headed to the ticket counter and Eli growled and grunted (but in a happy way) as we waited for the guy to figure out if we could get on. He handed me a boarding pass, and I nearly jumped over the counter to kiss him. I couldn't stop smiling as I boarded, and was not at all unhappy to get one of the few remaining seats which was of course a middle seat. Eli rested his feet on the nice man to our left for the majority of the flight. He only screamed during the descent--probably because his little ears hurt.

After we landed a lady in the row behind asked if she could help by holding the baby while I gathered our things. I gladly handed Eli over to the stranger because I am an awesome mom like that. She did assure me she didn't have a cold or anything. It's just really hard to safely pack up a diaper bag and put on a Bjorn while holding a baby.

Kenny picked us up at the airport. He made me drive home because he missed his little man and wanted to sit in the back seat with him.