Blessed

This isn't the best picture, or the most representative, from the entire baptism extravaganza weekend, but I felt that it was necessary to post something, anything, to let people know that yesterday's tornadoes did not, in fact, blow us away. I was a bit nervous driving home through torrential rains with the tornado warning buzzer sounding off on the radio and people at work screaming that a tornado was headed our way (it was actually 40 minutes away in Richmond and tornadoes don't work like hurricanes, people). Nevertheless, I rushed Arden home, certain that my husband would be worried about me. Not. He was sleeping on the couch while Sawyer was napping upstairs. Both catching up from a long and fun weekend during which we all drank too much/slept too little. Sawyer, for his part, spent hours not sleeping glued to the tv in 'his' room at mimi and pop's house, He loved going to bed. Watch choo-choo? he asked. He meant Polar Express, which was still in the DVD player from Christmas. We let him. Hey, whatever works. But, then, sometimes we were too busy having fun to go upstairs and check on him and a few hours later we would find him still clinging on to the side of his pack-and-play, mesh imprinted on his face, too entranced to let go and fall asleep. The baptism itself was lovely, and I'll post more pictures as I can. Arden looked like the classic baby, the weather was lovely, if a bit too hot and sunny (Pierce celebrations are plagued with adverse weather conditions). Everyone found it necessary to carry an umbrella. The long and the short of it is that we caught up with dear friends and family, ate and drank well, and saved dear Arden from Purgatory.

Wheezy vs. The Nebulizer

Little Arden got her first cold this week and nearly landed herself in the hospital. The coughing fits were so bad she couldn't catch her breath. So now we have to give her these breathing treatments every four hours. This scary looking mask is called a NEBULIZER (I just love that word - 'Honey, bring me the NEBULIZER!') and it sprays a fine mist into her lungs with aerosol (note, when they discover a small hole in the ozone layer directly over my house, blame the NEBULIZER.) The first treatment she got at the doctors, I could feel her whole body relax into my arms as oxygen reached parts of her lungs for the first time in days. Now she just has to get better in time for the baptism. Par for the course- we have 30 friends and relatives showing up this week. Anyone who wants a turn Nebulizing Arden, I have openings at midnight and 4 a.m.

More than just a baby making machine

This is what I did for work last week!!

Rollover

Taking Arden's 3 month portrait proved a little difficult because she was so focused on putting her newfound talents to the test. Here is the official rollover captured on camera.

j and a

What in the world are they looking at?? There is something intensely captivating about their expressions. They seem so at ease with each other, having only just met. Arden , incidentally, is about to christen the beautiful quilt we received from friend Connie Randall with her drool.

Look who's back

Justin arrived on an overnight flight this morning for a week's spring vacation with us. He looks tall and healthy and his dimples are as deep and cute as ever. He met Arden for the first time and re-bonded with Sawyer in about five seconds. More to come.

War wound

A week ago Wednesday I was loading Sawyer into the car and talking to another playgroup mom - basically trying to do three things at once - when I slammed my right pointer finger in the car door. Ouch! The nurse practitioner and lab tech who x-rayed it took more than two hours to tell me they have no idea whether I broke it - but the fact that I can't bend my finger and that when I extend my hand there is a sharp stabbing feeling near my second knuckle seems like a pretty bad sign to me. What blows me away is that here we are in the 21st century and team of medical experts still can't tell my if my finger is broken by looking at an x-ray. Two hours into the appointment, Arden was cooked, and with my finger unwrapped I couldn't do much to help her. The nurse started palpitating my finger, asking: 'does this hurt? does that hurt?' and I'm all: 'the only thing that hurts right now lady is the sound of my baby screaming.' So, in the end, she taped my finger back up into the same splint I walked in with and sent me on my way with the instruction that 'maybe you should wear the splint some and maybe you should try wiggling it around some.' Thank God for sound medical advice, right? Problem is, my right pointer finger happens to be my most favorite finger, and I want to make sure it's fully functional well into the future - so I may be forced to seek a second opinion. Lacking the use of my most favorite finger has made this week a tough one. It's amazing how a missing finger adds challenge to simple tasks like changing a diaper or washing a dish. Not to mention my job- typing, photographing and writing. And, so, despite the fact that this was birthday week for me (April 10), I've been in something of a slump. My patience level has been unusually low and I've had a tough time keeping a positive attitude. And I have no prognosis for how long this will take to heal. And it's just a banged up finger. I can't even imagine how it must be for all these amputee soldiers returning from Iraq.

You gotta love a community newspaper

This article is actually running in this week's paper - I seriously think I should cover it. Seriously.

Open salt collectors to meet

The quarterly meeting of the Open Salt Collectors – Atlantic Region (OSCAR) will be held May 3 at Bluff Point Community League in Kilmarnock at 10:30 a.m. The term "open salt" refers to small open dishes that hold salt for use at table. They were in use among the upper classes in the centuries before salt sellers were invented. They are often made of glass, silver or china.

The event will include a short business meeting, a show-and-tell session, a picnic lunch, a program, “The Asian Arts in Open Salts,” followed by a buy-and-sell session. Members are encouraged to bring a display of open salts with the theme “Chesapeake.”

During the show-and-tell, members show their latest additions or a favorite item from their collections, and tell their latest salt collecting stories. Attendees are invited to ask questions. The program will be presented by Leigh Trimble, owner of Main Street Fine Arts and Antiques in Kilmarnock. Trimbel is knowledgeable in many areas of collecting, having been an antique dealer and collector for most of her life. Members are encouraged to bring in their Asian salts, such as enamels, Imari, Satsuma, Peking glass or any other Asian salt about which they would like to know more.

The meeting will be hosted by Nina Robertson. She is an authority on open salts and the co-author, with Sandra Jzyk, of The Open Salt Compendium published in 2002 by Schiffer Publishing. The book has become a favorite reference for open salt collectors.

The fee is $12.50 which covers lunch. In an effort to attract new members, there is no charge for first-time visitors. The meeting is open to anyone interested in open salt collecting. Reservations are necessary in order to prepare the luncheon. Call Nina Robertson at ...

Arden: 3 months.

View in Color

It's one of those strange feelings - life B.A. (Before Arden) seems so distant, as if she's been in our world for a long time - it certainly seems longer than three months. And yet three months seems so young, and I am glad to have more babydom ahead. I am trying to savor these early months, the first coos and giggles, immobility, a menu that's never rejected.

And then sometimes I look at her and say 'Aren't you walking yet?'

Oil and Water

A friendship died today. Not a real death, but the parting of ways when there are 'irreconcilable differences,' as they say in divorce court. This felt like a divorce. It's a friend who refuses to know my children. Has no interest. And I am no longer a complete person without them. That was that. She sees me now as one of the "others" - a parent of young children, completely obsessed ('as it well should be', she adds). I like to think I have a few more layers, but I can imagine how one-dimensional my life seems through the lens of this blog. Do we inevitably arrive at the point in life where we must divide ourselves into DINKs (double income no kids) and parents? Do we speak such completely different languages that we can no longer understand each other? A family member told me recently that I, "have too much time on my hands," given all the blogging I do. I spend the day changing my children's diapers, and I stay up past my bedtime at night writing about it. I would argue that it's the one thing I do for myself. I make the time to blog because, somehow, its therapy for me. But, my friend's harsh comments remind me that I need to keep my head above water, to not drown in toddlerdom, destined to wash ashore in an empty nest in 20 years and wonder where my life went. As much as her words about my children stung, I wonder: Am I the one being selfish? Should I just casually accept some ebb and flow of devotion over the course of a lifelong friendship? Maybe this is not a death at all. Perhaps the silences, once broken, make us stronger.