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Penny for Your Thoughts

For a country that prides itself as being "all about freedom", America sure can be fickle.  Controversy over a breastfeeding doll?  Please.

Here's the argument that really cracks me up: "this doll teaches little girls to be mothers and we need children to just be children".  People.  A doll is a doll is a doll.  When you also stop buying your little 'uns Barbie, Baby Alive, Cabbage Patch, American Girl (and so on), then maybe you'll sound a little more credible.

Maybe.  But probably not.

We Made It!

Well, friends, Cass turned one year old last Friday.  Dan and I took the day off work and drove over to Omaha's Henry Doorly Zoo, where Cass giggled at the tigers and watched the silver-back gorillas with wide, saucer eyes.  It was chilly and overcast when we arrived, but the sun came out soon after and it turned out to be a classic spring day.  I hope that we can do something like this every year on our little guy's special day.  We ended with dinner at Upstream Brewery, whose asiago & artichoke dip and yummy house-brewed seasonal stout are certainly worthy of mention.

We hosted the actual birthday party on Sunday and about 30 friends, family members and neighbors joined us for a potluck bbq, cake and lots of outdoor activities.  It was another beautiful day, perfect for basketball, sidewalk-chalking and tandem/mini-motorcycle rides up and down the block.  Thanks to all who came and we wish that those of you who live far, far away could have been there.

Shout Out

I live in the kind of 'hood where neighbors shovel each others' sidewalks in winter and mow each others' lawns in summer. It's Pleasantville, in technicolor.

Last week, for instance, we were invited to a Groundhog Day party.  Last year, the jennies on the block threw me an incredible baby shower.  And for major holidays like Christmas and Independence Day, elves bedeck the street lamps with holly and line the street with mini flags.  True to form, neighbors have literally stopped by to borrow a cup of sugar or to drop off a plate of freshly-baked cookies, and we really do have a neighborhood newsletter.  There is an annual block-wide garage sale each fall and, without fail, a Happy Birthday sign will show up on your porch for your special day.

If home is where the heart is, then the neighborhood must be like some other major organ - one that you might technically be able to live without but that makes life so, so much more pleasant!

Free As A Bird

Saw this hungry fellow near East Campus a few weeks back. He was fearless and inspires me to be. So much uncertainty these days. There are universal issues like the economy, the job market, and environmental sustainability and then there are the hundred-and-one uncertainties specific to each of us. Will the gas bill break the bank this month? Will we be able to find a sitter for Wednesday? Will I pass this week's CNA skills?

In times like these, it would be easy to lose focus, to feel defeated or to simply put yourself on autopilot and sink into a comfort zone. But then the cosmos sends you a sign, a sign that says be strong, fly straight and show no fear. You're free as a bird.

Plans

Here's the lowdown, the rundown, yeah, the skinny and the scoop. I'm back in school working on the prereqs for a sonography program. I'm excited and nervous and a little sad that it's taken me so long to find a "path", but here's hoping that 2011 will be a catalyst for positive change. The program is pretty small (translation: selective), so most of our plans for the future are on hiatus until we find out if I get accepted. My ninth-grade English teacher always said "patience is a virtue". As it turns out, I find it is infinitely easier to be patient with others than it is to be patient with myself. I want what I want and I want it now.

So, here's hoping for that nice big welcome packet in the mail come spring!

Sundy Morning Rant

Dan is out of town for a few days and Cass, uncanny little squirt, knows it. He's trying to see just how close he can get to making me crack. Not so, you say. A 3-month old baby simply isn't capable of scheming. Yeah, well...a new mother clinging desperately to her last nerve simply won't listen to any logical explanations, either.

The kid, who has been a pretty sound and predictable nighttime sleeper up 'til now (never did like daytime naps), has suddenly become a tosser-and-turner, jerking his arms and legs like some kind of marionette on speed and grunting like a wild boar. And waking up every hour - 3:30am, 4:45am, 5:15am, 6:25am...you get the idea.

And after weeks of being pretty darn happy, now we have fussy again. Pick me up, no not like that, I wanna face out, now I wanna stand, now sit, walk around, put me down, do jumping jacks to entertain me, green light, red light, feed me, no I'm not hungry anymore, sing, stop singing, read, stop reading, I'm tired but I might miss something if I take a nap so I think I'll just sit here and howl...

So if anyone in the Lincoln area wants to do something charitable this week, please stop in and visit us. Thank you forever. Amen.

Celebrating With Food and Drink!

Dan and I were married for two years last Saturday. My, how Father Time rushes past without a backward glance. How we stare after him, open-mouthed and breathless, wishing we had snatched golden opportunities instead of waiting for hypothetical tomorrows...

In true "seize the day" spirit, we vowed to make the most of our day, infant and all. With Cass in tow, we set off for the Farmer's Market this morning and browsed the local tasties and crafts. Sipping iced mocha, we strolled hand-in-hand and smiled at the hustle-and-bustle. Ever the frugal twosome, we satisfied ourselves with take-home purchases of Wisconsin buffalo wing cheese (exactly what it sounds like) and a jar of honey. After all, there are still four months' worth of marketing left. Have to save some goodies for next time..




Next, we decided to visit James Arthur Vineyards in Raymond, NE. For $5 you can sample any six of JAV's 20 wines. We took our first pick, a dry red, to a shaded table in the courtyard, where the air was fragrant with summer blossoms and there was a lazy breeze to keep us cool.

JAV would be a beautiful spot for a wedding reception or golden anniversary party. We left with a bottle of full-bodied St. Croix and an award-winning Edelweiss. In truth, we easily could have left with all six of the wines that we sampled BUT lo and behold...The Wine Passport.


A compilation of Nebraska wineries: hours, contact info and map. It's one of those "visit-to-receive-a-stamp-and-get-discounts-and-prizes" type things. So, sure, twist our arms. Since we had such a good experience at James Arthur and since there just happened to be another winery in Raymond...yes, well. You can guess our next stop. WindCrest Winery was much smaller and more intimate. Owner Dale was extremely personable (and generous - he let us sample TEN wines for $6!) and though his wines didn't have the "drinkability" of James Arthur's velvety reds and buttery whites, they did win points for originality. For example, WindCrest has a whole line of cherry-based wines and the chocolate color of their hearty De Chaunac is intriguing in itself.

So, I found a whole host of new places to check out right here in America's heartland. And the Mr. and I are not waiting around for our next anniversary to visit them!

B is for Berry and also for Mmmm...

The Warrens celebrated Memorial Day with a trip to the Roca Berry Farm for the kick-off of the 2010 strawberry season. If you make the first right after entering, you can purchase cartons of pre-picked berries for $2.00/lb. Or, you can travel a bit further down the long dirt road and tromp through the fields with basket in hand for $1.25/lb. Personally, I think I'd pay extra for the pick-your-own experience. Few things can say "summer is here" like the sticky-sweet aroma of strawberries baking in the hot May sun.

Husbadoodle and Cass sat back in the shade and I headed for the sea of dark green shrubbery. The picking window is short - 3 weeks at most - so we got there early to get the jump on our competition. There were still quite a few unripened berries, though. I was told by one of the few seasonal workers to push back the leaves and root around near the earth. Sure enough, lumps and mounds that I first took for dirt were actually the plumpest, choicest berries, half-buried by their own weight. I worked my way along the row and every so often I thought, that's more than enough for just the two of us. But the allure of that sugary smell made me drunk with the pleasure of being out, plucking away, watching the berry pulp stain my fingers.

I almost feel like I never really had a strawberry before this. Deeply red and rich and juicy, the skin didn't make a whisper of sound when I bit into it. There was no hint of resistance in the texture.


I'm pretty much ruined for store-bought fruit now. I think I'll head down to the farmer's market on Saturday for some cherries as well. Who knows? Maybe I'll even try my hand at growing a pineapple plant!

Roca Berry Farm reopens in the fall for pumpkin season and goes big with haunted houses and barns, fair-style munchies (candy apples, funnel cakes, kettle corn and more) and hayrides. I know where we'll be getting our jack-o-lanterns this year...

Fun in the Sun

With only days of spring left, the weather here has finally turned warmer. Dreadfully rainy and overcast, but warmer at the very least. I live for the heat. Heat means barbecues, vacations and sun tans. Heat means freedom and adventure.

The school year is quickly coming to an end and that means two months of R&R for me. With a baby on board, our doings will be more restricted than in the past: no visits to far-off continents, no late nights out on the town. But that doesn't mean we have to sit around like bumps on a log. Dan and I will stay busy celebrating our anniversary next week, hosting our annual bicycle ride in June and taking our wee little lamb to meet his great-great-grandfather down in NE Texas in July.

Aside from the big events, I hope to explore more of Lincoln - from farmer's markets to berry farms, free concerts in the park to wine tastings at the local vineyards, fireworks shows to picnics...anyplace we can take a potentially noisy child and all things we can do on a budget. Now that we're parents, we have to quit moving at warp speed. And actually, surprisingly, this is fine with me. Now we'll have time to stop and smell the roses.

Things I Love Thursdays

I really feel like writing today but lack the time and brainpower to string together a narrative. How fortuitous that today is today, so I can get by with a Things I Love Thursdays post. In no particular order, I love:

Lemon cake, which my lovely coworker Susan made for my birthday yesterday and which I also ate for breakfast this morning. Divine.

Pink tulips - and I like them better closed than open

Movies about dancing, no matter how lame the plot and/or script (Step Up, Center Stage, You Got Served...oh yes, I went there). And I truly do want to see the Disney Channel's "Another Cinderella Story".

Pearls - love them all and will be asking for Tahitian blacks on our fifth wedding anniversary

Shelter dogs, like this one. I wish Nyla played nicely with others. I would scoop up this sweetie in a heartbeat.











And of course, I love my son. The little peanut is 8 weeks old today. Can't believe how time is flying...pretty soon he'll be asking for gas money and bringing home girls that I can't stand.

Back to the Grind

Six weeks have come and gone, and yesterday I rejoined the workforce. On days that Cass was happy, alert and full of gentle coos, I dreaded this day. On days when he was extra fussy, I begged for it to come faster. Now I find myself wanting some impossible hybrid of both, a perpetual bring-your-child-to-work day...or a work-from-home situation that isn't an envelope-stuffing scam. Either way.

It was nice to feel good at something again, to know with absolute certainty that I'm doing things the 'right' way and to have black-and-white answers for all my questions. Raising a baby seems to be a constant guessing game where all the rule books say, "Most babies do this by such-and-such age, but every baby is different". Which, of course, means you're on your own to figure this thing out. Most of all, I welcomed the return to adult conversation. After all, you can only sing The Ants Go Marching so many times and I already have Where the Wild Things Are memorized.

On the flip side, I miss him. I miss his weight in my arms, his sweet sweat-and-milk smell (not sure how this combination comes off as sweet, but it does) and his gummy smile. I really enjoyed wearing house shoes all day and pumping definitely sucks. And I hate the feeling that I'm missing even the most imperceptible changes - maybe he's holding his head up a little longer today or making a new squeak, and I won't be there to see/hear it. Sad.

But, as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder and while I don't think it's possible to love him any more, I do feel that being apart makes me better appreciate being together - every day, every precious moment.

Motherhood Is...

So, the other day I was changing my son's diaper and like 30 minutes later I found a smudge of orange poo on my pinky. And it didn't gross me out (although it's probably grossing you out). In fact, I laughed about it. Because that's my life now - poo on pinkies, spit-up on shoulders and occasionally even baby wizz on the walls.

How priorities change...Dan and I left our munchkin with grandma Monday night for our first post-baby date night. We were back home after an hour-and-a-half. And even though I had plenty of bottled milk stored up to feed Cass, I didn't even drink my entire glass of wine. Because...I dunno, just in case he was hungry the minute I walked in the door and there weren't 2 minutes to spare heating the cold supply?

And it was difficult to remember the things we used to talk about as a childless couple, which was definitely a bit disconcerting. Daycare, medical bills and upcoming doctor's appointments, and the boy's recent diaper explosions...it was hard to shift focus and talk about something else. And really, do you want to talk about diaper explosions over dinner? Ok, really, do you want to talk about them at all, ever?

But then again, he's given us some great stories after just six weeks and I know there are many more to come- the kind of stories that can be told over and over again without losing their charm. So I suppose that we'll never run out of conversation at the dinner table...though we might agree to stop discussing the contents of those diapers.

And Then There Were Three...

From conception to birth...and then some. God, could it be that long since I've tapped out a posting??

Well, I suppose I've had other things on my plate. Lots of things on my plate, so it would seem - I gained 60 pounds during pregnancy. Good thing my bouncing baby boy accounted for almost 9 of that. I think water-weight was another 10 or so, as I had no ankles by the ninth month and none of my shoes could contain the fat little sausages that had previously been my feet.

Anyhooo, now that THAT's all over and done with, along with the joys of labor and delivery (one allergic reaction to antibiotics, two failed epidurals, a last-minute C-section and a 4-day stay in the NICU for the babe), on to bigger and better things. Things like raising this little monster. Things about which, on days like today, I feel that I know next to nothing. Not that I'm not up to the challenge of learning...and learning I am.

For example, I've learned that my child does not like the following:
his bassinet
pacifiers
baths
naps
car rides
the vacuum
the clothes dryer
tummy time
not being held while awake
not being held while asleep

Now, I guess I don't blame him for the vacuum because I hate it, too. But seriously? Who doesn't like naps and car rides??

So there you have it. Men truly are a mystery, even before they're men...

These Things I Know

I have a problem with authority.
The "text" function will be the end of all normal social interaction betwixt humans.
There are too many great books out there to waste one's time reading Tropic of Cancer (sorry Henry Miller fans, but 376 pages of obscenities does not a novel make).
When your A/C chooses to break, it will be on the hottest day of the year.
Lucy Liu is, in fact, the bomb.

I have writer's block, folks. And so, in light of my crippled ability to create through words, I will be taking a beginner's knitting class at The Yarn Shop on Monday evenings. Wish me luck...

Pet Peeve

I want to be an upstanding citizen. I want to do good works and give unselfishly. And we all know that there are enough charities and non-profits out there in need of help, right? So why have I contacted three different volunteer-dependent organizations in the past few months and gotten no response from any?

I mean, are you fucking kidding me?

When I make donations, my checks get cashed with a supreme display of efficiency. So where is that efficiency when a person wants to donate time instead of cold, hard cash? And you know, if they’re just overflowing with good Samaritans and don’t need any more volunteers, then how about showing a little common courtesy to the rejects by dropping us a quick line to say so? “Thanks, but no thanks.” See, it’s not that hard.

I’ll even volunteer to do THAT.

My Own Personal Chaos

Living in your new house while performing mass renovation on it is economically viable. It will also make you a teensy bit insane.

The refrigerator is in the basement while we pull up kitchen tile that looks like it was positively welded to the underlying hardwood. The tile itself is an unsettling smorgasbord of yellow, violet and a strange olive-grey hybrid. At the same time, we are pulling down the ceiling tiles and rafters to (hyuck, hyuck) “raise the roof”. The cabinets have no handles, as I took them off to paint but got distracted. The stove is a hulking, ancient contraption that looks like the thing that landed in Roswell.

Our washer & dryer are in the ½ bathroom. The couch is in the dining room. And the dining room table is apparently being held hostage in a Slumberland warehouse, the location of which is known only to the very top dogs over at the CIA.

On the upside, the first round of demolition went well and our house is now free of icky paneling, old carpet, and faux wood accessories. The mutant shrub that was feasting on the right half of the porch – also gone.

I hope to have one room finished before the end of the month…a sanctuary amidst my own personal chaos.

(Everything in this posting is completely tongue-in-cheek. I love my new/old house and the projects associated with it.)

Phoenix Rising

Like the mythical bird, this blog is going to be reborn from its ashes. Effective - now.

After ransacking old files for old tax returns, paystubs and bank statements, zigzagging across town a couple times to sign paperwork, nagging, haggling, and stamping my feet, we finally - FINALLY - closed on our new house. I expect to post the occasional update (complete with before & after pictures, natch) as we go though the renovation process. Now that summer is here to stay, we can see that we will have peonies, tulips and hostas along the driveway and a rhubarb plant in the backyard!

We picked out a table and chairs last weekend and are negotiating for paint colors (I fancy walls that beg to be looked at; Dan prefers neutral tones). Luckily for us, there are enough rooms - and thus walls - to divvy up between ourselves without causing too much bloodshed and heartache.

In unrelated but equally important news, my oldest younger sister has been in town since Monday and we're having a great time being girly together and hanging out as peers, like we didn't really get to do when I was growing up. With a 7 year age gap between us, I'm sad that I "missed" all those years in the same house with her - now we live 1,000 miles apart and I can't seem to get enough time with her.

Ah, well. Such is life, and I'll take what I can get! Off to have some fun now...

Random Information

It costs 20 cents more to mail a square envelope than a rectangular one.

Um, why?

Best Easter Quote

My good friend Angela, in reference to Cadbury Creme Eggs:

"I like to scoop out the goo and just leave a little bit so my chocolate to goo ratio is higher."

Happy Easter to you and yours.