The Case of the Crib Kicker

Over the past two weeks, Nathan and I have noticed a particularly noisy new trait Eliza has developed: furiously kicking the side of her crib for prolonged amounts of time. I blame the bouncy seat entirely. Eliza loves to bounce...even when she is not in her Jumperoo. If you hold her, she will insist upon stomping her feet on your legs, stomach, or whatever surface she is near, until you assist her in jumping. This need to kick her legs has now carried over to naps and bedtime. We've got a feisty baby on our hands.

My parents always told me this would happen, and that I would finally understand what they went through with me as a child. I can't wait.She looks so innocent, but her legs are so strong.

Snazzy Snaps

Nathan loves shirts with snap buttons. Here are some examples of his collection:


I'm not sure if this is because he hates buttoning and unbuttoning ten buttons or if he likes the way the snaps look. The only obstacle preventing him from acquiring a closet full of snap button shirts is availability. I'm pretty sure these kinds of shirts were no longer made past 1975. Additionally, it is quite difficult to find any button-up shirt that actually fits Nathan's slender body and long arms. However, Nathan struck gold this weekend. Our friends Beckie and Steve invited us over to watch the Lost finale (which was completely unsettling by the way) and decided to part with a couple of valued items that evening (well, Steve did at least). Nathan became the new lucky owner of two amazing snap shirts! He tried them on as soon as we got home and wore one the very next day. And here is the best part:Thanks, Steve!

Good Morning, Mommy!

Look at this face:
Imagine it smiling at you every morning. Now imagine this adorable face covered in POOP smiling at you. That is the image that snapped me out of my semi-asleep state this morning.

When I awoke, I could hear Eliza laughing and talking to herself in the nursery. As I walked into the room, I noticed there was a particularly powerful smell emanating from the crib area, but assumed it was just a dirty diaper. Well, I was right about the dirty diaper....I just didn't expect it to be EVERYWHERE. Somehow, Eliza managed to take off her Target brand diaper (curse those diapers...they are a plague) and smear its contents all over herself, her linens, the bumper, the actual crib and throw some onto the floor (which I, of course, stepped on). I vowed never to use Targer diapers after they caused blisters on Eliza's tiny bum, but Nathan was at work with the newly purchased box of Pampers in the trunk of his car; all I was left with were the Target cast-offs.

It was disgusting, but somehow I managed to clean my baby, the sheets, and scrub the carpets without becoming sick. Motherhood has made me stronger. It's amazing what I have cleaned/seen/smelt without flinching. Bring on the grossness!

Overall, the lesson was learned: never use cheap diapers. Got it. I pray it is just the diapers and not the fact I have a Houdini baby on my hands. I just hope she isn't the kind of baby that has to have her diaper taped on at night. My two-year old niece, Ellie, wore a "special belt" every night after pulling a stunt like this. It was made out of duct tape and never failed; I guess duct tape really can do everything.

Apparently, Lint is Good

Does anyone have answers as to why Eliza would rather eat lint from the carpet and floors instead of small solid baby foods which are ACTUAL food? I just don't understand it! Every time I look away for a second, Eliza has found a fuzzy carpet ball...and put it into her mouth. She then refuses to allow anyone to remove the lint from her mouth. Hopefully, this is just a phase. I don't like thinking about my daughter storing pieces of who knows what in her cheeks. I guess it gives me an excuse to vacuum/sweep more than I already do. My obsessive floor cleaning may finally come in handy.

This is the face of realization: Lint is gross.

Walking Revolution

Eliza and I love our Moby Wrap. Tonight, instead of strapping Eliza in her stroller for an evening walk, I securely wrapped her in the Moby . It's amazing how much more enjoyable our stroll was. She was able to happily kick her legs the entire walk and lean her head back against my chest. She loved it! As for me, I was content to swing my arms (instead of pushing a ridiculously stubborn stroller) and stare back at all of the onlookers who looked at us inquisitively. I also didn't mind having her warm little body snuggled against mine.

**p.s. I dyed my hair "Mary Jane Parker" red.

Things I "Want"

I love lists. Every day, I found myself staring at one, whether it is work-related, cleaning strategies, or an outline for grocery shopping. Today, I made a list entitled: "Things I Want." It reads, as follows:

*  lawn mower (because we are the embarrassing neighbors on the block who haven't mowed their lawn all spring)
* couch (although I just love the decor of our home, I can't handle the retro couch with shrunken cushions any longer)
* Hardwood flooring (to replace the damaged wood in our kitchen after our mini flood)
* A new bathtub (because I want one with an actual drain stopper)
* A bicycle trailer for Baby

After looking at this list, I suddenly realized I'm an adult; An adult with responsibilities. Oh how the times have changed.

Tiger's Blood is the Only Way to Go

As my friends Becca and Brittany have so eloquently stated: SHAVED ICE IS THE BEST. Both of these lovely girls are pregnant, meaning they know a syrupy treat is something you NEED when you're an incubator. When I was with child last summer, I constantly craved Tiger's Blood (not real blood like Bella from Twilight...yes, I went there ). It is the ONLY way to go. No snow cap, no mixture of flavors- just pure, unadulterated shaved ice with Tiger's Blood. And now, I can have it whenever I want (weather permitting) because the Hokulia stand is open and ready for business.
Here we are, awaiting the shaved ice:
Tired, yet excited (you just have to look hard).
Positively giddy. Please notice that his shirt says "spicy." Typical Nathan.
Pensive baby. It's as if she knows it isn't a treat for babies.

After we received our shaved ice, I was a bit happier.

Nathan couldn't get much happier than he already was,

and we discovered that babies really don't enjoy cold substances...no matter how sweet they may be.  So... Eliza just held a spoon and was happy. Awesome.

Baby Steps

How Picasa Nearly Ruined Mother's Day

A few hours ago, I attempted to upload a few hundred pictures (including several taken today, capturing my first Mother's Day), only to have Picasa wipe my memory card clean without uploading a single file. I have no idea what caused the error, but I can assure you- it was not a user error. I have spent the past few hours extremely frustrated, furious with Picasa, pouting (then crying), and searching Google for answers. Apparently, Picasa has been known to do this, so please be warned!

After trying several recovery programs with no results, I was near hysteria. Poor Nathan. Pictures are irreplaceable! Nathan kept saying: "We can just dress up again tomorrow and take more pictures. We can pretend it's Mother's Day." Although this was a sweet suggestion, I would KNOW they weren't "real" Mother's Day pictures!! Finally, I tried Recuva.com after reading another Picasa victim's story....and it worked!!

Thank goodness I have these lovely pictures:

Eliza is so beautiful! Being a mother is an immense blessing. Although there are days when I am too tired to function, I wouldn't trade my sleepless nights with Eliza for anything.

For all of you seasoned mothers, new mothers, and mothers-to-be, I hope your day was wonderful.

Eliza's Newest Face

Recently, Eliza has started scrunching her face, squinting her eyes, and breathing rapidly from from her nose with her mouth firmly shut when excited. Behold:

These pictures fail to capture the cuteness of Eliza's newest face (and are somewhat scary, I must say), but I can assure you- it is adorable.

Conversations with a Plumber

Friday morning, I noticed our kitchen smelled particularly pungent. Knowing the dishes were all safely in their cupboards and the garbage can was empty, I began to investigate the source of the odor. And then I looked down...The floorboards were buckling.

My stomach sank. Somehow, water had gotten beneath the wood and had rotted overnight. Nathan and I had noticed water near/around the sink, but thought it was due to washing hands/doing dishes.  Unfortunately, we were quite wrong.

Nathan called a plumber (whom he had also called when he decided to install our washer/dryer combo himself and cut a water pipe causing flooding...but that is another story), who determined there was a leak and fixed the problem. Because he was already at our house, we had him look at an ongoing problem with our toilet. Before we even purchased the house, we were told the toilet leaked.  It was supposed to be fixed before we closed on our house, but the handyman who was sent did nothing. Long story short- the porcelain of the toilet had an irreparable leak. Man! Sometimes, owning your own house is not as much fun as it sounds. 

After talking with the plumber, he assured me: "Don't worry, I've seen worse. Way worse."

The following conversation then took place:

Me: "What's the absolute WORST you have seen?"

Plumber: "Working in any apartment/house where women live."

Me: "So what's the worst thing you've seen there."

Plumber: "Well, a few summers ago, I was at this apartment complex a few block north. These girls just let a toilet run for hours until I got there. They didn't even try to do anything to stop it, so it flooded their apartment and went through the ceilings. Ridiculous. It was a MESS."

Me: "Was it three summers ago? At a place called Park Place? Two story?"

Plumber: "Yeah. That might have been it!"

Me: "700 N? Raw sewage coming through the ceilings and cabinets downstairs? Sewage in the light fixtures? That?"

Plumber: "YEAH! And I remember their neighbors were getting new new-"

Me: "- COUCHES."

Plumber: "Yeah! That was YOUR PLACE? WOW."

Me: "I was at work when that happened. That was NOT my fault."

Oh, Park Place. Your shotty plumbing is history. Remember when the upstairs flooded that one time, Brittany? AWESOME.

p.s. I found this photo online:

Oh the memories.