men we love

On Wednesday, my friend Barb devoted her blog to the four-year anniversary of the death of Sen. Paul Wellstone ... while I devoted mine to the two-month anniversary of the birth of another short, loud, baldish guy with bright eyes, a smirky smile and the charisma to win the heart of anyone who meets him.

:-)

two months old

We celebrated Daniel's birthday today over lunch at a Mexican eatery in the new mall in Woodbury, then strolled around and looked at shoes at DSW. (The new Zippy is quite a smooth ride compared to his Snap 'N Go!) I bought a new pair of shoes — my feet are about a half size bigger (including wider) post-partum, so I am slowly having to rebuild my collection. Daniel is sporting a new pair of shoes, too — some green and blue Robeez with dinosaurs on them. They're so cute!

Here are some pictures for posterity ... gotta love those chubby cheeks! It's good to know he's eating well.

and a better tuesday ...

Just when I'm completely drained by a tough day, the sweetest moments lift my spirits and make me fall in love with my baby all over again. Daniel loves this mobile — absolutely loves watching his "froggy friends" (as we call them) go by as the music plays. It captivates him like nothing else in the house!

Today, he was in a better mood — less fussy, more happy. He slept from 1 a.m. to 10 a.m., with one feeding break at 5 a.m. He lay in his crib, swinging his arms at his froggy friends, long enough for me to be dressed by noon. We took a nice long walk outside, stopping at the coffee shop and then Peapods to look at baby things. These walks are good for Daniel and for me. He sleeps; I get exercise. I don't know what we'll do when it gets super cold this winter. Maybe we'll walk at the mall or something, and maybe I'll figure out a way to bundle him up when the temps are bearable (like, in the 20s).

I've got strollers on the brain. Tonight, I went to pick up the stroller we ordered at Baby Grand (made possible through the generous support of my parents). It's supposed to be our all-purpose stroller — compact and light enough for travel and mall trips and throwing in the back of the car. But I'm also lusting after some of the all-terrain models with the pneumatic tires and shock absorbers, thinking that they'd be a lot better for long walks on our bumpy sidewalks and on trails when we go hiking. Steve is also going to want a jogging stroller to take Daniel along on runs in another year or so. Can we combine the two? Or shell out the bucks for three? Just how many strollers does a family need, anyway?!

one of those days

My boobs woke me up this morning. Daniel slept more than seven hours straight last night — from 1 a.m. to past 8:30, and my boobs were so engorged from the lack of use that when I turned over onto one side, the pain of being so full woke me up. (Well, the pain and the fact that the front of my nightgown was wet from the leaking.) I'm thrilled that our boy is sleeping so long at night ... but I wasn't expecting the side effects.

When he isn't sleeping, he has been very fussy. He cried and fussed most of last evening until he finally fell asleep (while nursing). And he fussed a lot today when he wasn't napping, nursing or (rarely) smiling and cooing. I don't know what's wrong. I can only keep holding him and trying to soothe him. I wish I had Ellen's knack for rocking him to sleep. She had a way of bouncing him in her arms while she swayed that knocked him out in minutes. He's not one of those easy babies who can fall asleep in his crib. He only falls asleep in our arms, and if we put him into his crib before he reaches deep sleep, he wakes up and starts crying again. Which is why these six- and seven-hour stretches of sleep have been a godsend.

So it was one of those days. I had breakfast at 10:00 and lunch at 3:30, tiptoeing around the kitchen and scarfing down banana bread and split pea soup between feedings and cries. I watched nearly all five hours of the BBC's production of Pride and Prejudice, plus Oprah, while Daniel nursed and napped on my lap. By the time Steve got home, I was still in my nightgown and bathrobe, nodding off on the couch while Katie Couric read the national news. Now I finally have a few precious hours of time to do with what I wish. Steve is holding Daniel, and I am here, getting things off my chest. Next comes a nice hot bath.

eeeeee ... i feel like a schoolgirl!

Tonight Steve and I are going on a date! Dinner for two at Carmelo's, our favorite little Italian restaurant down the street. It's the first time we've been out alone together since Daniel was born (which was exactly eight weeks ago today)! Ellen is babysitting, and I plan to have a glass of wine along with their fabulous butternut squash ravioli. I can't wait!

sometimes i am stronger than i feel

Today I tip my hat to single moms (and dads), from my sister Mary to my friend Cynthia to the many I don't even know — along with the alone-at-home moms whose husbands travel a lot for business. Steve has been in Phoenix since Tuesday for some work training, and I can't wait to see him when he gets in tonight!

I was so apprehensive about being alone all day and all night with Daniel. I've dreaded it more than I dreaded the day in September when Steve went back to work. Yet we've survived, and it hasn't been as bad as I'd thought. Part of the reason is my sister Ellen, who flew in from Oregon to help out with Daniel and keep me company. (She even missed his baptism so she could come later in the week, bless her heart.) Another plus is that Daniel has been sleeping for longer stretches at night. Last night, he was asleep by 12:30 and woke up at 3 a.m. and again at 8 a.m. before sleeping in until noon. Yes, noon. He is a night owl, not an early bird. (He's just like his mother; these late-morning sleep-ins lately have been bliss.)

So I haven't really had the full-blown single motherhood experience, and I know two days is but a blip in the life of a full-time single mom. But I'll consider it a warm-up for next month, when Steve goes out of town again for three days (and nights), and this time I won't have any family in town to spend the night or hold Daniel while I shower and cook. I'll have to rally my friends and in-laws to keep me company while he's gone. And I'm going to have to tap into my inner cheerleader who tells me I can go it alone. So many strong women do it every day. To me, they are incredible. If they can do it, I can do it for three days.

our child of god

Here are some photos from the baptism Sunday, which was really beautiful after a hairy start. (We got caught in a traffic pile-up on the interstate on the way there and were almost late.) I'm usually on the other side of the camera, so it's nice to have some of Daniel and me together! He looked adorable in his little linen romper with its buttons and pintucks in front and sailor collar in back. We'd considered using the gown I was baptized in, but it was very frilly and made Daniel look like a girl, and Steve said he wanted a boy outfit. After a bit of searching in local shops and online, we found this one. It arrived last week via FedEx International from a shop in County Donegal, Ireland, wrapped in brown paper and gold ribbon, with a handwritten note from the owner, a lucky Irish penny and a little stuffed sheep (with a shamrock on it) that smells of wool. Such charming packaging! And such a darling romper — though hard to change diapers in.


This one is going in the Christmas card to our priest! He's the same priest who presided at our wedding. We really like him a lot.


With the godparents (Steve's brother, my sister) ...


With his Aunt Susanne ...


Here's Daniel meeting his grandma for the first time Saturday night. He won her over instantly!




He was pretty tired by the time grandpa got him.


That's it for now. Our pizza has arrived, and it's time to have dinner. :)

dreamin' of a white halloween

A hard snow shower blew through for about 10 minutes this afternoon, and then the sun came out again. After eight years living in Minnesota, I'm still not used to snow in October. For heaven's sake, the summer flowers haven't even died yet! It's freakish to me to see pink and purple flowers mixed with orange and red (and green) leaves mixed with ... white. Wierd. My family is coming to town this weekend for Daniel's baptism. I hope Minnesota puts on a good show for the Oregonians!

growing and glowing

Daniel has started noticing the mobile toys that hang over his head. It's so cute — he smiles at them and bats at them with the small amount of hand-eye coordination he has so far. Today we made an expedition to BabiesRUs, and I bought a mobile to hang over his crib. (No pictures yet.) He stared at it, smiling, for nearly half an hour, which was amazing because he has been especially fussy in the past couple of days, especially when no one is holding him. (Was it the asparagus we had for dinner?) He's starting to notice people in the world around him, too — and his flirty smile is heart-melting!


P.S. Note that his Combi is next to the Harry Potter and Tolkien books. Strategic placement ... I'm hoping he notices those a few years down the road!

october

I love this time of year. The leaves are nearing peak color in the Twin Cities, and it is the perfect time for walking along the Missisippi River Boulevard in all its red and orange glory. This afternoon, Steve took off work, and we bought lattés and smoothies at Caribou and took a relaxing Friday-afternoon stroll with Daniel. We walked two miles, which was really good exercise for my post-partum body. (I had my six-week checkup today and got the thumbs-up to resume normal exercise!) It was our first time at the river trail since mid-August, when we walked to bring on my labor. And now, we walked as a family.


Daniel slept through it all. He sleeps like a log in his carseat-stroller. I can't believe he is six weeks old already. And I can't stop kissing his chubby little cheeks (or taking pictures of them)!



Today, I also brought out one of my favorite albums in the world — one I listen to every year around this time — U2's October. I have had it since high school, and it never fails to make me feel nostagic and emotional in a rather gothic way — which of course is perfect when the leaves are falling all around you and the sun is still bright and warm, but the air is getting brisk and the hint of winter is around the corner. The title song is short and spare, but it feels so huge and holy to me:

October
And the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care
October
And kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on

crashed out

I guess Charlie Rose isn't all that exciting ...

choices

The three of us stepped out Sunday morning to watch Steve's brother run the Twin Cities Marathon. (Way to go, Bruce!) Here's Daniel, taking in the cheering crowds from the safety of his carseat-stroller. On our way home, we meandered through the side streets of St. Paul's Macalester-Groveland neighborhood, and somewhere along Goodrich Street, we came upon one of the most perfect, gorgeous houses I have ever seen. For sale. And having an open house. So of course we went in.

The white-stucco house had been meticulously restored in the Arts and Crafts style, all the woodwork refinished, an original china hutch in the dining room. Two sunrooms — one on each floor, the upstairs one off the master bedroom. Two outdoor decks, also on each floor. A spacious backyard. A working fireplace. A huge upstairs bathroom with cool tile flooring. Bedrooms painted just the shades of green I love the most. Bigger-than-average closets for Mac-Groveland houses. By the time we walked out of that house, I swear, I was in love — the way I fall in love with every beautiful house we visit. (Every time it happens, we call a moratorium on open houses until we're actually ready to move, but we always weaken!) I envisioned lazy mornings sipping my coffee in a sunroom or on the deck overlooking the garden. Cozy winter evenings in front of the fireplace. Bustling afternoons preparing dinner or baking cookies in the big kitchen.

And it could be ours. That was the thing. The listed cost was over the top end of our price range, but not by that much. Close enough that I could taste the possibility that we might be able to afford it. All the way home, we talked about it as if it might actually be doable ... as if we were contemplating buying a new TV. Steve got online and found a mortgage calculator and concluded that we could probably afford to buy this house — but only if I go back to work full-time.

But that's the problem. I'm not sure that's something I want to commit to right now. In our current house, with its reasonable mortgage, we have a certain amount of freedom. Sure, it might not have the sunroom I crave, but it affords us the opportunity to make choices. Financial freedom enables me to stay home with Daniel for six months while we live on one salary, or to go back to work part time instead of full time if I want. Financial freedom doesn't have the glamourous ring of Arts and Crafts woodwork or big closets, but it feels amazing when we decide to go on a trip and not feel guilty about it because we can afford it. I'm not saying I wouldn't give that up for an amazing house ... someday. A wonderful home where we can settle back and know we'll spend the rest of our lives there ... that's important to me, too. I do want that dream home. But I feel like I'm poised on the balance of a teeter-totter, not ready to give up the good things that our modest home affords us right now. Would I be as happy in the white-stucco house if I had to leave it every morning to take Daniel to daycare and not see him (or the house) again until after 5 p.m.? Would I be as happy if it meant giving up another trip to Ireland or San Francisco or New York?

Back at home, I started looking around at our little rambler. We've done quite a few things with it already that make me love it dearly, fondly. We've painted the walls in four of the rooms and gotten rid of horrendous wallpaper borders and ugly bedroom curtains. And of course, we've had central air installed, as well as a new furnace, hot water heater, dishwasher and refrigerator. There's so much more I'd like to do — like paint the living room and hallway and replace the living room drapes. Change some of the light fixtures. Redo the terracotta bathroom in better colors. Replace those yellow kitchen counters. Add a second bathroom in the basement. All these things cost money — but not as much as it would cost to buy a whole new house.

We can't stay in this house forever. There's a reason it's called a starter home. It's perfectly comfortable and big enough for us right now. But sometime soon, probably in the next couple of years, we're going to have to bite the bullet and revisit our priorities: financial freedom or dream house. It suddenly reminds me of the choice Meredith has to make on Grey's Anatomy: McDreamy or Finn. The heart choice or the head choice. I know men and relationships fall under a different set of parameters, but when it comes to lifestyles, I'm usually in favor of head choices. There's something clear and rational and secure about holding financial freedom above messy, emotion-driven spending splurges. But ... oh, my, there's something wonderful and fantastical about stepping into a beautiful house and imagining your future there. Maybe it is more like men than I thought. Maybe the longer I pine for the house of my dreams, the more wonderful it will feel when we finally find it.