Googly-Eyed Storytime: How We Met pt. 2

So, in our previous installment, I met my future husband in a band room, exchanged phone numbers, and then turned him down when he called me to ask me out because, in a twist no one saw coming (unless you, I don't know, already know the story or were around when it happened), I was dating someone else at the time. Let's continue, shall we?

Five Favorites: Facebook

I'm just going to put it out there: I love creeping on my friends. I love knowing what people are up to and how their lives are going. Don't lie, you know you do, too (as Miss Manners snarkily put it: "No, there is no polite way to tell someone that you want to know their personal business but don’t actually want to talk to them. This phenomenon used to be known as gossip, and in Miss Manners’s opinion, Facebook has ruined its fun for everyone."). But there are a few things that I really, really enjoy more than others.

Adventures with Sleepy Nate

My husband sleepwalks and talks (fun fact: if you tell that to nurses, they will give you your own room in the hospital because they don't want you messing up your roommate's stuff). The first time I experienced this was when we were dating. He had fallen asleep and I was considering heading home when all of a sudden he jumped up, grabbed some random clothes in his closet, threw them at me, and yelled, "Put these on! We gotta go!" I was more than a little freaked out and started asking what was wrong. He then shouted, "There's a bomb in the building! We have to get out!" I suppose he thought the clothes were some kind of special vests or something, but I managed to wake him up and he then profusely apologized.

Now that we actually share a home and a bed, I get a more frequent dose of sleepwalking episodes, and sometimes they're actually worth documenting.

Googly-Eyed Storytime: How We Met

My friend wrote her (very long, multiple installment) how-we-met-and-started-dating-and-now-we-have-4-kids story a little while back and it was actually one of those kicks in the butt to start documenting digitally (I mean, I could have and have written things physically, but there are pros and cons to it, just as with this blog). So, in a hopefully shorter amount of time than "How I Met Your Mother," here is part 1 of Nate's and my story.

7QT: Media edition

So I normally don't put in too many pictures because, well, I'm lazy and either forget to take said pictures or just don't get around to uploading them from either my camera or my phone and all of a sudden it's been 2 months since I took that really cute picture/video. Well, not this time. Nosirree. We're gonna have stuff in here!

Five Favorites: Shopping Edition

My dad says that he read that self-made millionaires got that way because they never spend more than $10 on a bottle of wine, and though my mom will sometimes sulkily say, "Sometimes I wish you would," I'm convinced that the price usually has fairly little to do with the quality. I actually don't really like spending money, plus getting out and about with very small kids isn't exactly an easy feat; when I have to do it, it's more of a chore than anything. Sometimes, the stores I go to make it very, very worth it. The following places generally help me keep within our budget (me being a SAHM with two kids while we live on a single teacher's salary in an area with one of the highest COLAs in the country) and maybe even make it feel like we're living large. So, here are my 5 favorite brick and mortar places to spend money!

Keep Calm and Play On

A friend posted a link to this article, detailing some of the nutty things people have experienced as musicians. I feel like most of us have at least one good story to tell, and the longer you go, the more you have. So...

And now, my first 7QT!

Another linkup! Who am I??

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Freddy is big enough that trying to keep him in the infant prefolds is an exercise in futility. If he isn't soaking through it in 10 minutes, it is a pain to get it on and make sure everything is covered. I'm convinced that while it's harder to clean girls, actually getting the diaper on boys is...a challenge. So to the next size up we go! Now I only have to pack one size of diapers in the bag!

My First Five Favorites

I've never done a link-up before! How exciting!

In the spirit of Wednesdays in this house (I make pizza and we invite our siblings so the kids get aunt/uncle time), my list theme is Favorite Foods/Drinks to Make. Om nom nom.

Loss and Remembrance

I have a brother-in-law I've never met.

His name is Evan. He's only in Arlington, a short drive from our house. I got to see his place in April. The thing is, Evan only lived for 12 minutes.

Basement Progress and Other Thoughts

Husband of mine has been a busy little bee with our basement. Over the past month, he has ripped out the hideous paneling (side note: it wasn't attached to any drywall. It was just hanging there by itself. Who thought hanging barely 1/4 inch paneling as a wall was a good idea??), ripped out the baseboards and door frames, hung drywall, mudded and sanded about 50 bazillion times, painted, and is currently putting in and painting the trim. His dad has been guiding him a lot through this process and has come over many times to help with various parts. He's even lent a bunch of his tools - we currently have his miter saw, nail gun, and air compressor hanging out downstairs (we also have an old vacuum of theirs since Nate's insistence on not borrowing the shop vac has led to our vacuum becoming so clogged with drywall dust that it doesn't suck anymore. At least, that's my theory, and I'm sticking to it).

It (Sometimes Literally) Takes a Village

I have a low supply.

I learned the hard way to trust my instinct on this one. Every single stinking lactation consultant, doctor, and blog written by either an IBCLC or doctor or will say, "Even if xyz are happening, you probably don't have a low supply." Even if you're checking off every thing on their list, it's probably not low supply, because it's very rare that a woman cannot produce enough milk because it's a supply and demand thing.

Well, I'm that anomaly. It happened to an extreme with Rosie last year. She ended up losing almost half a pound between her 4 and 6 month check-ups. I look back at the pictures and wonder how I didn't see that she was losing weight. The truth is, I did see it. I just was told that I didn't and wanted to believe that I didn't.

Average-ish Day in the Life

I know, these average days are generally boring, and that's probably a good thing, but there's gotta be a constant to compare the anomalies to, right?

We needed groceries, so after breakfast and Freddy's mid-morning nap, we headed off to the grocery stores (I regularly shop at 3 different grocery stores - that's an entirely different post - but we only hit 2 today) and got back as quickly as possible so I could make a phone call discussing responsibilities for this new part time gig I have. I brought in the perishable groceries, tossed Rosie in her crib well past her normal naptime, and crossed my fingers that she and Freddy would stay quiet for my call.

Oddity: Rosie refused to nap. She spent 2+ hours in the dark in her crib playing and chatting and occasionally yelling about how unfair life is. Normally, she'll quiet down after at most 30 minutes and go to sleep, but not today. After the call, I waited, hoping she would sleep, but I had to admit defeat around 5 or 5:30 (also well past when she normally wakes up, but I had to try). However, she was in a super snuggly mood after I got her, so Nate took Freddy on Freya's walk and I got to enjoy some rare cuddle time before I got dinner ready (SUPER simple today - bread I made yesterday, brie, and apples).

Rosie spent most of dinner laughing because....well, I'm going to go with because she was high from sleep deprivation. Everything was funny, and she was leaning over one side of the high chair cracking herself up over nothing. Children are clearly the best entertainment and this is the reason people had so many before electricity and the invention of television.

Before we put her to bed, she decided that she wanted to go to town hugging and kissing Freddy. Rosie's idea of hugging is more like strangling, so we have to keep an eye on her ("What did you do??" "I don't know! I was just hugging him and all of a sudden his head popped off!"), but it is so heartwarming to see that she really does care about her little brother. When I was pregnant, I was terrified that there would be regressive behavior and battles over attention and coup attempts, but I've been very pleasantly surprised.

I have been blessed with pretty easygoing children. They have their moments, and while Rosie was not pleased that we were walking away from the different sample ladies at Costco and Freddy was tired and telling everyone about it at Wegmans before finally passing out in the carrier, such moments are the exception. I'm sure now that I've written that they will prove me horribly wrong. Here's hoping they only prove me wrong at home.

This photo is about 2 months old, but it gives you the general idea of their personalities.

Finally, a story about Nate that I already posted on FB. If you don't know, Nate is a bit of a sleepwalker and talker. Sometimes he'll just kind of mumble or look around, but sometimes I get absolute gems like this from last night:

Nate: [moves arm so that it's almost in my face] [intense stare]

me: ...

Nate: [swoops arm around in a loop to the other side]

me: What are you doing?

Nate: Reading.

He glared at me when I laughed at him, but luckily he has no memory of any of it.

Plus, look at that face. How could you possibly not laugh?
Full disclosure: this picture is from right before Rosie was born. Imagine a lot more exhaustion and joy.

So there you go. A general idea of how a day might go, and thankfully without any pictures of the house, because it's an absolute mess. I could probably do something about it now, but I have the rest of a glass of wine calling me instead. And if it calls, I must answer, and answer it completely uninterrupted, unlike my showers, sleep, and meals.

The Beginning

I should confess: this is actually the third blog I've started.

I should explain: one of them was a horrible stream-of-consciousness type blog I started in high school (frankly, I'm not sure if I should be amused or horrified that I thought anything I wrote was worth etching into the internet for eternity) and it had a pretty terrible user interface, so I switched to a livejournal in college. And, well, the second was a livejournal, so that's fairly self-explanatory. Since I already have a gmail account, it will be much easier for the NSA if I just keep everything in one spot. I'm all about efficiency.

I suppose it's also symbolic to be starting a new blog since so much has changed from my last lj entry (which was, I think, about 5 years ago). I met my future husband, I graduated, I got my first job, I moved out of my parents' house, I married my husband, we bought a house, we got a dog, we had two kids and will likely have more...it's a very different life from the one I was living. While some of these changes were huge and definite, so many more were and are gradual. I started tearing up today because Rosie was playing peekaboo from under the table with me and I wanted to make sure I didn't forget moments like these.

The things I want to remember are going to be the little things, and I don't want to miss them. I don't want the little impish grin to fade from memory because she's morphing into a young woman and replacing the toddler before my eyes. I don't want to strain to try to remember the way her little voice sounds, or the way her hair curls in corkscrews, or how gentle and loving she is when she tries to give her little brother a hug and a kiss. I don't want to only remember the temper tantrums and weight worries and sibling squabbles sure to come. I want to Carpe Kairos (for the other Momastery readers), and if I can record some of those moments here, maybe I can do that over and over again. The internet is going to last forever, right?

While this blog is mostly for me, I titled it "Words For Friends" because I do like sharing. Sharing is caring. I also like stomping people in the game "Words With Friends," so this is probably a nicer way of connecting to them (though I got slaughtered recently by a good 200 points by my BIL Kris). And if on the off chance you happen to be one of my kids reading this journal years from this first entry, hi. I love you very much, and I hope I did a good job showing that.

So. Let's begin, shall we?