Baby Eins: Two Years.

Dear Beck,

This week we celebrated your second birthday.  How is that even possible?  On your actual birthday, your dada took the day off work and the three of us had a great time together.  We had a yummy breakfast, including a rare treat for you: toaster strudel.  Then it was off to the Mariano's bakery, where you pointed out the cake in the display that you wanted to consume.  Next, we paid your pediatrician a visit and she confirmed how awesome and healthy you are.  You did not love being at the doctor...I think our recent ER and specialists visits for your foot have given you a bit of white coat anxiety. Not that I blame you. You got two shots as well, but calmed down quickly when we mentioned our next destination.  The pool!  We went to the park district swimming pool, which you and I have started frequenting. You were so excited "swimming, swimming, swimming..."  It was dada's first time at this pool.  We all got changed and walked up to pay for our time.  The pool was empty, but it was 20* outside so that was no real surprise.  Well, it turned out that mama read the schedule wrong and the kid's pool was not actually open during that time, only the lap pool. Thankfully, there are still some kind souls in the world and when they heard why we were there, they opened the pool and turned everything on just for YOU.  I am certain you had no idea what I was saying, but when I told you this your mouth dropped open in a big smile.  Priceless.  We played and "ah-boomed" (for when we lift you in and out of the water quickly with lots of splashing) for about 30 minutes or so.  You have recently discovered how much fun inner tubes are and are becoming quite bold about walking out into deeper water.  And yes, you fell and went completely underwater three or four times.  This surprised you, but you just kept going.  Bold.  After that it was home for a quick lunch and then to nap because you were wasted.  And so was mama.  :)  You slept for just over three hours, kiddo.  And I may have caught a few winks myself during that time.  

After we all woke up, it was time for a quick snack and then we took Lita for a walk.  You spoke with lots of family while I made your birthday dinner of macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, and fish sticks.  Live large, little man.  Then it was finally time for cake!  The candles mesmerized you.  I cut you a slice of your selection and placed it in front of you.  That first bite elicited the most awesome of responses,,,  an "mmm...yum.." with a little giggle in there.  So adorable.  And can we talk about that cake for a moment?  The cake you pointed at in the case was the "Signature Cake". It was covered in chocolate ganache, but that is all we knew.  Turned out that the inside was chocolate cakes, with a layer of chocolate buttercream, a layer of cheesecake, and a layer of cherry filling.  Wow.  I never would have selected something like that, but it was delicious.  Good choice.  Finally, you got your gift from us... A talking minion from Despicable Me.  "Tim" was a big surprise to you and you spent the rest of the night chatting and snuggling with him.  

All of this comes after the fact that we had a party to celebrate with family two weeks ago. It was minion themed and you had an awesome time!  I always worry that these events will overwhelm you, but you have done quite well with them. You had a great time playing with your cousins, eating some of the breakfast catering that we had, opening your gifts, and, of course, devouring a minion cupcake.  :)  Some pretty severe storms rolled through our area while we were busy celebrating you.  We got very high winds, lots of rain and even some hail.  There were also lots of tornadoes further south, but we all stayed safe.  

You have been quite the cuddler lately, wanting to give lots of hugs and kisses.  I will never say no.  You have also been quite impressive at large family gatherings, including your birthday, socializing with everyone.  Although your Uncle Dan still scares you a bit for some reason.  I would like to think that the fact that you are so secure has something to do with your parenting, but maybe that is just you.  Either way, you are pretty darn awesome.  We still have our moments of course.  You are wanting to be carried a ton lately and I cannot always accommodate that request.  My belly cannot accommodate that request.  :)  Your "up?"s and "pweese?"s kill me.  I know you just want to be close.  

Your dada and I love you so much, pumpkin.  I am going to have to stop calling you "baby" pretty soon because you will be a big brother soon enough.  But, you will always be MY baby.  

Hugs and kisses, mama

A terrible loss.

I received a phone call over the past weekend that the youngest brother of a very good friend had taken his own life.  It is a complete cliche, but words cannot express how shocked I was to hear this news.  I instantly felt such a great sadness for his family, his brother and two sisters.  How would they ever deal with this loss?  In a way, it felt like a loss to my own extended family.  There was a large group of us that was very close in high school, including his oldest sister (my roommate several times during college), and he was the tag-along little brother of the group. 

Of course, then I asked myself why.  Why would a 25 year old, who I can only remember as shy, but friendly and quick to smile; a lover of music, sci-fi and a good joke, do this?  What could have affected him so greatly?  We will never know the answer. 

Last night, my husband and I attended the private memorial service that the family held.  I was honored to be there to support my very good friends and their family.  I was driven to tears several times at the thought of the loss of a friend, a nephew, a brother, but the one that got me most was the loss of a son.  The parent's perspective strikes again.  It has made me realize how important it is to talk, really talk, to your kids.  Not that I think this family did not talk to their son.  But along with the "coming of age talk" and the "sex talk" and all of those difficult conversations that a parent must have with their children, maybe we need to add a "life is not always fun, but there is almost nothing that can be bad enough to end it talk."  I don't know.  I don't know the answers.  All I know is there is a hole in this family and it makes me so sad. 

They are doing so much better than I could have imagined, I think because they have each other. 

Birthday #33.

Another birthday has come and gone, quite awhile ago actually, but I am just finding some "free" time now, while at work, heh. 

It has been a pretty amazing year all in all.  I would not say that I feel any older.  Heck, most of the time I still have a hard time thinking of myself as an adult or believing that I am someone's mother.  Weird.  I am not sure if I am where I expected to be at this point in my life because I am not sure what expectations I had for myself really.  I guess I am a bit surprised to be expecting baby zwei in a few short months, but in a wonderful way.  It goes without saying that this parenting gig is hard, hard, (impossibly hard on somedays!) work, but it is also a blessing, a privilege, a joy.  Beckett is at such a fun age right now, soaking up new words, wanting to go go go and explore.  And yet he is still very sweet.  I cannot wait to watch him and his brother play together.  Of course, I will have to survive the next couple years to get to that place.  :)  One day at a time...

Life right now...
mostly revolves around our little man and I am okay with that. 
does not involve much free time or time alone with my husband, poor guy.
is full of highs and lows.
at 24 weeks pregnant, is exhausting physically.
involves me working 2 part time jobs (one in the lab and one at home).
has given me my first age spot.
is wonderful and joyous. 
is hard. 
is occasionally stressful.
is lots of fun. 

The next year should be even more interesting.

Baby Zwei: Spinning (AKA The Phone Call)

This is the post I wrote shortly after hearing from the doctor.  I almost did not post it, but am doing so just because it is a part of this journey now.  See the update here.

Dear Baby zwei,

yesterday was a very good day.  Your daddy was working from home so we were all hanging out together.  Your brother was getting a reprieve from his teething agony and was in a good mood all day.  I even heard him yell "nein!" from the other room when he heard me saying "no!" to Lita.  That kid cracks me up.  We had a great dinner and Beckett and daddy had a fun bath time, which was a welcome change after the last several angry baths.  I was on bedtime duty and was singing your brother his lullabies after reading him a story when the phone rang.  Frustrated that someone would call during bedtime, I rejected the call and finished putting Beck to bed.  He drifted off peacefully and I tip-toed out.

Mystery caller had left a voicemail.  It was my doctor.  Calling at 8:15 at night.  And telling me to page her.

My heart jumped to my throat.  Surely this could not be good news.

I called the office and had Dr. Kim paged through the service.  She was at the hospital and returned my call nearly immediately.  She was reporting back on our NT scan and first trimester screen.  Your ultrasound was perfect and all looked well.  But my bloodwork came back slightly abnormal.  The doctor reported that instead of the usual less than 1 in 250 chance for a chromosomal abnormality that would result in Down Syndrome, our results had the odds of 1 in 68.  Baby, those are still very good odds, but I would be lying if I said that this news did not rock my world.  Your dad entered the room just as I was getting off the phone.  He took one look at my scribbled notes... "trisomy, amnio, harmony blood test, pregnancy loss, 1:68"... and just sat on the bed.  He held me while I cried harder than I have cried in a long time.  I cried until I could not breathe.  Until no more tears would come.  And I had not even told him what was happening.

When I finally stopped, I told him what the doctor had told me.  He listened.  He was quiet a moment.  And then he asked me what my gut said.  He put his hand on my growing belly and said that he believed that you were fine.  And I want to believe that so badly, my sweet little one, I do.  But mommy is not very good at remaining optimistic sometimes.  *sigh*

So, instead of falling asleep peacefully and reveling in the fact that we had a good day... I spent time googling scary topics on my ipad.  Wondering about what could be.  Trying to decide what to do.  Your dad sat next to me doing the same.

The doctor had suggested doing either an amniocentesis or a blood test called Harmony.  The amnio comes with risks of its own, but results are quick.  Harmony is just another blood test for me, totally non-invasive and therefore no risk to you, but the results are much slower.  We decided to do the blood test and I will be heading to the office after work today for the draw.  Then we will wait the agonizing 8-10 days to see what is in store.  I do not know that anything would change, but I need to know now.  I need to know. 

As I finally settled down to sleep, much later than usual, much later than I should have, my mind was racing.  I felt lost, confused, afraid, angry.  I did NOT want to be thinking about these things.  Was it not bad enough that I was stressing out about handling two kids already?  But, for some reason, I put my hand on my belly as I closed my eyes.  I immediately felt you.  I felt you moving in there.  I had felt little thumps already, but not like this.  I felt like maybe you were trying to tell me that it would all be okay.  That you were okay.

The logical side of my brain knows that a 1:68 chance means that 67 out of 68 times, everything is fine.  The logical side of my brain knows that that chance is even higher because there is a 5% false positive rate on these screens.  And they are just screens.  Just odds on a piece of paper.  Not diagnostic tests.  The other side of my brain...  well, it scares me.  

I sincerely hope that in a few short weeks (or less) we will find out that all this worry was for naught.  For now, we wait.

Love, momma

8 business days.

This is not really how I intended to announce, but that is how life goes sometimes.  I thought about just erasing this draft and starting all over, but that felt fake too.  So, here goes...

Day 0.  Thursday.  My appointment was scheduled for 4:45.  I left work early to make it on time.  There were three others in the waiting area with me.  They were all called in, one by one.  Minutes ticked by.  I browsed magazines.  I played sudoku on my phone.  I messaged with my husband. Waiting, waiting.  I only needed to see a phlebotomist, not the doctor.   And yet, everyone else got called before me.  5:30.  My doctor appeared in the doorway and said it would just be a moment longer, but I could come back and ask any questions I had.  I wandered back in to one of the familiar rooms.  Did I have questions?  Yes, lots.  But I was not sure how many of them were appropriate right then.  So I asked the easy ones.  I asked for numbers and was given a printout.  I asked if we would be given an answer and was told "yes, with 99% accuracy."  Most of the time I would take 99%. The doctor left.  Waiting, waiting.  The phlebotomist finally came in.  I chose the other arm this time.  Tight, tight, impossibly tight tourniquet.  Two large vials of blood to collect.  It was like she was trying to squeeze it out of me.  "I want to get these as full as possible," she said.  I only nodded, my hand was going numb.  Finally, done.  Band-aid. "We'll call you soon."  Not soon enough.

Rewind.

Day -1.  Wednesday.  It was a good day.  I do not remember the details now, it was a Wednesday, I was home with Beck all day.  He had his first non-angry bath in a couple days.  I had finally announced to the rest of our friends and family on Facebook that we were expecting.  I had read Beck his story and was singing him his lullabies when the phone started ringing.  I did not recognize the number and chose to ignore it to finish putting him to bed.  I put Beck in his crib after his songs and sat quietly while he drifted off to sleep.  Then I snuck into my bedroom to investigate the mystery call.  There was a voicemail.  I listened, I returned the call.  The conversation that took place on the phone and immediately thereafter is detailed in a separate post (here) so I will not repeat it all here.  The short version is that the bloodwork from my NT scan on Monday had come back abnormal.  The projected risk for our baby to have Down Syndrome was calculated at 1:68.  I am choosing my words very carefully... projected risk.  My numbers were put into a calculator and these are the odds we were given.  It is a small chance, but still a chance.  And it was something that made me feel very lost, confused, worried, upset.  Sent me searching for answers, where there are none to be found.  I cried myself to sleep that night and did not share my first definite recognition of a little being thumping in my belly with my husband.

Fast forward.

Day 1.  Friday.  I had my blood drawn the day before and was told that it would be 8-10 business days for the results.  Results that I realize now would not *change* anything... but would at least provide an answer.  We hoped.  I had work that day, so was mostly able to stay distracted.  But there were occasional google searches...  "first trimester screen abnormal," "high hcg in pregnancy," "low papp-a in pregnancy," "nt scan and downs risk."  Some info was comforting, some was terrifying.  And so it goes with Dr. Google.

Saturday and Sunday passed in a blur.  I worked on Saturday as well and mainly kept busy, but now I found myself looking at other kinds of websites.  "Down Syndrome Pregnancy."  "Life with Down Syndrome."  "National Down Syndrome Society."  I learned a lot.  I quickly came to the realization that things were not as bleak as I had imagined.  Most children born with Downs do experience some degree of developmental delay, but are perfectly normal kids.  Many of them are able to attend regular schools (with the assistance of tutors) and even hold down jobs.  And the one thing that I was constantly reading about is how their parents describe them as the happiest children they have ever known.  But there were also physical defects to think about.  Heart defects are the most common, often requiring one or multiple surgeries to repair.  There is a higher chance of hearing issues.  And a somewhat increased risk of developing leukemia.  This was a lot to process.  My husband was remaining quiet on the subject after our initial conversation.  I assumed that he was not thinking about it, was waiting for the test results, was doing just fine in "hoping for the best."

Day 2.  Monday.  Back to the usual routine.  Grocery shopping with Beck and mom.  Working through nap time on my part-time-from-home job.  Still the occasional googling.  Now I scoured message boards on babycenter.  "Down Syndrome Pregnancy."  "Prenatal Testing."  "Poor Prenatal Prognosis."  There were so many stories similar to mine.  So many woman waiting and wondering.  Mostly just wanting to know.  I was floundering.  I asked myself questions that I did not want to consider.  I did not want to be thinking about any of this!  I just wanted to be enjoying my pregnancy.  I wanted to be happy and excited!  I felt like my life had been put on pause.

Finally, my husband and I spoke about it all.  He asked me what was bothering me that evening after Beck was asleep and I just looked at him and exclaimed "How could you *not* know what is bothering me?"  We discussed a lot of things that night.  How scared I was, how worried I was about how having a special needs child would affect our family (immediate and extended).  How I was not sure I could handle it all.  Would we have real lives anymore?  How would it affect Beckett?  Surely this would change everything!  "Yes," he said, "just like any new baby would."  Would I be able to see past a genetic mistake and LOVE my child?  That last one sounds so cruel...  But I am a scientist.  I know that Trisomys are a result of a fluke in cell division, a "mistake."  My husband stopped me there.  He knew where I was coming from, from the scientist perspective, but he was very firm in saying that this baby was no mistake.  And I understand where HE is coming from there... we definitely wanted this child.  Finally, the toughest questions of all.  What would we do if the test came back positive?  Did we still want this baby?  Trisomy 21 is the best case scenario when it comes to Trisomys.  Most people consider Trisomy 13 or 18 "incompatible with life."  Lovely phrasing there.  I do not believe that I am mentally or emotionally capable of carrying a baby to term only to have it be stillborn or to watch that baby die in my arms.  Trisomy 21 though... that is a whole 'nother ballgame.  Estimates vary as to how many pregnancies are terminated as a result of a T21 diagnosis.  Anyway, my husband asked me what I would want to do and I answered quite honestly that I did not know.  He took a moment, then looked at me very sincerely and said that this was our baby.  A baby we wanted.  A baby that will need love and care just like Beckett did.  Just like our broken dog did.  And we can handle it.  We can handle anything.  And yes, there were a heck of a lot more tears in there as well.  But, somehow, just getting all these thoughts out; these scary, horrible, guilt-inducing thoughts, that no one should ever have to think about during their pregnancy, made me feel better.  I even started to believe him.  And I actually slept well that night.

Day 3.  Tuesday.  I somehow felt more at peace.  No matter what happened, I knew I had my husband and that we really could deal with anything.  I found joy in small things.  There was still some worry, some "what ifs," and googling.  But, mostly, I was okay.  We went to bed early that night, but did not talk... 

Day 4.  Wednesday.  One week later, for the first time since receiving The Phone Call, I felt little kicks from my baby.  My baby.

Day 5.  Thursday.  A work day.  A bit of an escape, but the petty problems seemed so trivial.  Maybe that is a good thing.  Perspective.  I found myself wondering how we would tell our families and found myself considering making a video similar to the one we used to announce our first pregnancy.  It is very strange the things you will find yourself thinking about.

Day 6.  Friday.  Back to work.  Started posting on some of the babycenter boards just to help pass the time.  It always helps to know that other have gone through the same thing or are currently going through it with you.  I am not alone. 

Saturday and Sunday, again passed in a blur.  We had a rare Beck-free day on Saturday.  Being the party animals that we are, we spent it cleaning and reorganizing the house.  And we saw Despicable Me 2.

Day 7. Monday, again. I could not help but feel an impending sense of doom. Terrible truths, but we were reaching the point when the phone could ring at any moment and tell us news that would change our worlds. I felt a sense of peace at the same time, almost expecting it now. I really just needed to know. During the daily routine there are so many moments that pass, that just for a second you imagine how that moment will go when there are 2 kiddos instead of 1 present. I needed to be able to picture things. To have an idea of what was coming my way. Whatever it was, we would handle it, but I needed to KNOW. To prepare. To change my expectations.

Day 8. Tuesday. The day began at 4:30 am. Someday, these molars will be out and my first born will sleep again, until then we all suffer. I made some very unsatisfying decaf coffee and was in a wretched mood. Thankfully, a trip to the park in the morning made us both feel better. We came home, had a snack, and proceeded to take a much needed 2 and a half hour nap. Lovely. Then it was lunch, errands, playing outside some more. We were actually having a wonderful day afterall. At 4:15, the phone rang. It was a number I recognized. My first thought was "it's still offic hours, this could not be my doctor." It was not my doctor, it was one of the nurses. "Your Harmony bloodwork came back with the lowest possible risk." Oh what fantastic words those were! I asked a couple questions, but really had the information that I needed most of all. I waited until my husband was home to tell him the news. I would be lying if I did not admit that we were both hugely relieved. I felt like I could breathe again. Like I could stop trying to ignore the fact that I was pregnant. Like I no longer had to cringe whenever anyone asked about or mentioned my pregnancy. I did not know what to say! So I tried to not think about it at all. But now I knew. I finally knew. My baby had "typical chromosomes."

I have learned a lot over the course of the last 14 days. I think that I can handle a lot more than I give myself credit for. I have learned a lot more about Down Syndrome and what it means. I have learned that a lot of the assumptions that I had about Downs are simply not true. Sometime in the not so far off future, I hope to start volunteering some of my time in some way or another. There are several buddy groups that I came across. I think it would be great to get the kids exposed to kids who are different from them at a young age. There are still always plenty of things to worry about. You could spend your whole life worrying. I guess I will always have a small bit of worry until I am holding this new baby in my arms. I hope I am done worrying for awhile, I am looking forward to enjoying this pregnancy from here on out. But I definitely know that I will never look at another person with Down Syndrome in the same way.

The one about Religion: I went to a wake recently...

Mary, my cousins' grandmother on their dad's side of the family, passed away.   This woman was 96 and had led a very full life.  She was a mother of four, a grandmother of 16, and a great-grandmother to 21.  She lived in the same house for 54 years, up until about 2 years ago, when she moved in with one of her daughters.  Point is, she was a well-loved woman.  She was also "old-school" Catholic, which meant an open casket at the wake, with prayers, followed by a full mass at church the next morning, procession to the cemetery, etc.  I am all for people getting the... end... that they desire, but there is something so creepy to me about the open casket.

The family did a beautiful job of displaying photos of this woman's life.  There were multiple collages and photo albums, displays of wedding pictures and holding (many) newborns for the first time.  I soaked them up.  I just do not understand why that is not enough.  Why would we not want to remember our loved ones as they were, happy in life, instead of the way they are now?  I guess some like tradition and others like closure, but I was happy to hear that none of my loved ones want this type of event. 

ANYWAY, the officiant (pastor? priest? I never know.) who led the prayers talked a lot about how we should view this event as a celebration of a life well-lived.  That we should not wear black, a color of sorrow, but that we should wear joyful colors.  I LOVED this sentiment, but good luck making progress on that change.  He spoke about how Mary would go to Heaven because she was a woman of service.  She served her community, her church, her family.  I loved how he spoke about how important being a mom is: that no one is ever "just" a mom, she is also a provider, a teacher. 

I guess the part that bothered me was the discussion on heaven versus hell.  It was said that Mary would go to heaven for her service.  If there is such a place... and I do believe there is "somewhere," I just do not know *what* exactly... I am certain that she is there.  She was just a lovely woman!  The stereotypical perfect grandmother.  The officiant spoke of sheep and goats and how Mary was a sheep and would therefore find eternal life.  I guess I need to look more into where these analogies come from because my mind does not necessarily attach anything positive to being termed a "sheep."  And what is so terrible about goats, anyway?  This was the kicker though, apparently you can be a good person and still be a "goat" if you lack service to the church, if you have not been baptized, if you do not dedicate yourself to serving Jesus.  Really?  Because one chooses not to participate in an organized religion, one is relegated to the same fate as truly evil folk?  I have a problem with this notion.  Or is this the circles of hell concept, where "minor goats" will have a very different experience from "major goats."  I have no idea.  Again, I have not done enough research on the topic yet, but these were my thoughts coming out of the wake.  

I am still thinking a lot about many different religious topics lately, despite my lack of posting.  I am reading and thinking.  Things have been a bit crazy the last month and a half and they are bound to settle down soon.  Right?!  We shall see.  For now, I am going to strive to be the very best person, mom, wife, employee, daughter, that I can be.... if that makes me a goat, so be it. 

The one about Religion: a history and a beginning.

Things are about to get heavy in here.  I normally stay away from the more controversial of topics, but I found myself thinking about Religion, Faith, and Spirituality a lot over this past weekend and I really just need a place to purge some of these thoughts as I try to make sense of it all.  This is your disclaimer to skip this post if you are easily offended or just do not care.  :)

My thoughts are really jumbled right now, so this will probably be hard to follow. 

We took our first trip to Ohio to visit my husband's dad and step-mom.  They are regular church-goers; we are not.  They celebrate the religious aspect of the Easter holiday; we "celebrate" the bunny and chocolate.  They have crucifixes up in their house; I think they are kinda creepy. 

Let me back up...

My mom went to Catholic school.  She had services every morning before class as a regular part of her day.  My dad went to church growing up too, but I honestly do not even know what church he was a part of (not a Catholic one).  Basically his mom forced him to go and once he was able to stop going, he did.  So, since my parents were both forced to go, I guess they decided to force me to go as well.  I went to CCD and occasionally to services on Sundays.  Dad did not attend, so it was just me and my mom.  Going to church was still not a high priority on her list, so we were not there often.  I had my first communion.  I even made it to my first confession.  I do not even remember how old I was at this time.  11?  Maybe?  Dunno.  This is where things went bad.  I think it was for my second or third confession that I chose to go face-to-face.  This is where, instead of sitting in the confessionals, blocked by walls and screens, you just sit in a room with the priest and chat.  What exactly does an 11 year-old have to confess anyway?  "I talked back to mom and dad.  I didn't do what I was told.  I only made it to church once this month."  Oops.  Yeah.  That last one?  That did not go over well.  I do not remember exactly what was said to me.  All I know is that although I held out during the time that I was seated in that chair, I left the church that night in tears.  This representative of the church had basically told me that I was evil for not going to church every Sunday.  That my parents were evil for not taking me to church every Sunday.  That I needed to beg forgiveness for all of us.  Really?  This seemed so wrong to me.  I thought I was a pretty good kid.  And my parents were my world, how could they be evil?!  Anyway, it took a lot of coaxing, but I finally told my mom why I was so upset.  I am sure by then that she had formulated much worse things in her head.  She then told me that she had had a very similar experience growing up.  That she had told her pastor that her parents did not attend church regularly and pastor had told her that they were wrong.  Never mind the fact that they were immigrants who did not understand English.  Or that they often worked on Sundays to pay for their two daughters.  I stopped attending CCD and church after that night.  I just refused to go.  My mother tried on several occasions to enroll me in other programs just so I could get confirmed.  In case I ever wanted to get married in a Catholic church, she said.  I went a few times, but I always ended up dropping out of those programs before finishing.  I was completely disappointed with "The Church" as a whole.  Of course I have no idea if every church was like this, but this experience definitely ruined it for me. 

Fast forward...

I am college-educated.  Have an MS in a biology field, even.  Trained in research and deciphering data.  Data which show results of carefully formulated experiments.  Experiments that demonstrate processes that you can actually SEE with your own eyes.  See where this is going yet?  I admit that I do not remember a lot from my CCD and church days, but as I sat in church services with my in-laws this weekend, Easter weekend, and listened to the stories about Jesus rising from the dead...  Well, I felt an overwhelming sense of disbelief.  And do not get me started on the immaculate conception.  (And let's ignore dinosaurs and evolution as well for now.)  My brain cannot process this.  I do not understand how anyone can believe these things.  I have no faith.

This is not to say that I think people that go to church are dumb.  I actually find myself kind of envious of the people that can believe in something without ever seeing it.  With no evidence at all.  These people have Faith.  They just *know* something.  They feel it in their bones.  That is pretty darn amazing.  I do not know what I believe anymore.  I think I believe in a Higher Power, but I am not sure that it is this version that I read about in the bible so many years ago.  Like I said, my brain just does not understand how religion and science are compatible at this point.  And that might just be because science is all that I have been exposed to for the last...20 years?

I started thinking about what I would tell my son as he is getting older.  What will his beliefs be?  Of course, he will only be exposed to these things if we choose to expose him.  I would very much like for him to make his own decisions about these things.  Of course, that means that I have to educate myself.  Again.  And for the first time in some regard.  I have decided that during our next trip to the library, along with books for my little man, I will be getting a book on religion.  I am not sure what the title will be, maybe it will just be a bible.  I have no idea.  And it will likely take me months to finish it.  But I want to start and I need to start somewhere.  This will be a long journey, one that I will certainly struggle with.

If you have any suggestions for a skeptic, let me know. 

Everyday I'm toddlin'.

Uh-oh.  I think I officially have a toddler on my hands. 

My little man took his first four very zombie-like steps on Wednesday while we were at the library.  He was so happy to be crawling around, playing with new toys, seeing other kids.  We were taking a break, sitting on a bench together for a moment.  He wanted down so I lifted him down.  He stood there a second, smiled and giggled a bit and then took four steps away from me before plopping down on that fluffy tush.  I think I let my surprise get the better of me a bit because I heard myself saying "What are you doing, you silly?!"  Obviously it was a bit louder than I thought because once he was sitting I looked around and two other moms were staring at me.  I had to explain that those were his first unassisted steps.  :)  Meanwhile, B was so proud he was sitting there clapping.  What a character.  I was so happy to witness those first steps!  If only dad could have been there too. 

Dad got his chance to witness some wobbly steps too since he was home with B yesterday while I was at work.  My husband reported frequently throughout the day that B was taking a few steps here and there before falling into his arms.  Quite the game he had discovered. 

Then, this morning...  THIS....

Sorry about the squeaky mommy voice. 

We are in trouble. 

Resolutions.

I have never been big on resolutions.  I guess I do not see the point if they only last a few weeks at a time.  I think that change needs to come about or be pursued because we WANT it, not just because we happened to reach a certain date on a calendar.  All that aside though, I have been reading a lot of blog posts about resolutions.  This one in particular struck a chord with me--Start Now!  Because, yeah, there really is no "perfect" time for things.  So, some things that I am hoping to Start Now in 2013. 

~I would like to start an Etsy shop.  My mom and I have been talking about doing this for awhile now.  She would really be the main owner/creative force behind it and I would be supporting cast, but I want to quit talking about it and do it!  We need to get answers to some questions about setting things up and doing it the right way.  I am really hoping this comes together soon though.  I am itching to start creating things and this would give me good reason. 

~I would like to start worrying less and enjoying more.  I would not say that I am stressed out all the time, but I do worry a lot.  And it's mostly about how my little is going to respond to situations.  Or how others (family, friends, and strangers alike) are going to respond to HIS reactions.  I will sort of be jumping in the deep end on this next month when we take our first plane trip as a family.  Yes, I am worried about the flight.  Seriously.  I do not want to be that family with the screaming toddler that is annoying everyone and getting dirty looks.  But, I can only control so much.  I hate hate HATE that anyone would think my kid is a "bad kid."  I have been guilty of that myself before I became a parent!  Watching a child scream and cry in a grocery store and thinking either a) why is that mom not *doing* something? or b) geez, that kid is out of control!  Shame on me.  I know now that one episode (or even 100!) do not necessarily a bad kid (or parent!) make.  My kid is not a bad kid.  Maybe he is just having a bad day.  Like we all do.  But he is incapable of saying "I'm tired and cranky."  It is what it is.  I really dislike that phrase, but it is so so true. 

~Going hand in hand with that last one, I would like to be more happy!  Happy is a state of mind.  I am lucky enough right now to be involved with the beta testing of a new social networking site that is focused on seeing the good, the positive, the Happy! in life.  And I am really, really enjoying it.  I have noticed that since I have started using it, I am posting less and less on Facebook.  I find Facebook to be so negative these days.  Everyone seems to be complaining about something.  And yes, if we look, we can all find something to complain about.  But why not change our attitude and find something to be happy about???  Happy makes you feel good.  Happy makes the struggles easier because you can recognize the ways in which you are blessed.  Happy is contagious.  It is not always easy.  We are surrounded by so much negativity that it is easy to get dragged down by it.  This is still something that I am working on, but I am making progress. 

Those are my biggies!  There are other small things as well.  I want to finally sell some unused "stuff" online (listed a couple items this week and already have my first sale!) and donate more as well.  I want to start taking more pictures again and not just of my little.  I want to have more date nights with my husband because we deserve them.

It is time to Start Now. 

New Year.

Happy 2011! 

Wow, is it just me or did last year FLY by?! 

I've never been big on making resolutions, but it does just so happen that I have recently re-motivated myself to try to be more healthy, less stressed, and more productive.  So I guess you could say that I'm taking a swing at this New Year being the start of a New Me. 

I'm not dieting.  I had gotten in a very good habit of working out at least 4 times a week though and that all went in the crapper when the kitchen remodel was underway.  Not only was I just completely exhausted, but we just had. stuff. everywhere.  Of course, once we finished with that, the Holidaze set in.  Uh-oh.  Yeah... so I hadn't worked out since I think September.  Oops.  Last week I decided it was time to get off my butt (literally) and get back to it.  I'm happy to report that as of this morning I have worked out on my elliptical 3 times this week and attended one yoga class.  Oh yoga, how I've missed you!  Just taking these small steps has led me to be more aware of the foods that I am putting into my body.  Again, not going overboard, I've had ice cream twice this week!  BUT, I am making a sincere effort to eat more fruits and veggies.  I'm terrible about veggies since neither me nor my husband are fans.  And, while still indulging, at least remaining aware of portion sizes.  I also purchased a Wii Fit!  I'm not sure how great it will be about actually getting me in shape in any way, but my husband was gifted a Wii for Christmas and I figured it would be fun.  And it can't hurt, right?!  I haven't tried it yet, maybe tonight.

I've also come to the conclusion that crap goes on in this world every day that I could let get to me.  I need to let go of more things.  At work.  At home.  On the road.  Etc.  I can't control A LOT.  Even when it comes to family and friends.  And I need to recognize this and let things go.  This has already resulted in a lot less stress when it come to Holidays with our families this year. 

When it comes to being more productive, I mean in terms of home and work.  There are definitely some projects and tasks that I have been putting off at work... because of other priorities or simply because I didn't want to do them.  I'm being honest!  But, it's time to finally get those things eliminated from my to-do list once and for all.  I also realized recently that I spend a LOT of time in the evenings in front of the TV.  I can't help it.  I love TV and movies and it's a "hobby" of ours really.  But I feel so much better if I spend the evening actually DOING something.  Even if that is something as simple as doing a couple loads of laundry, reorganizing a closet, baking some cookies, even just returning an email!  So, I'm trying to find things that can be done while the TV is on in the background.  Even if that's just crafty things, anything but Facebook stalking! 

So yeah, not really resolutions... but changes that I'm trying to make anyway.  :)

I've noticed that several of the bloggers I follow have been posting 101 in 1001 days lists recently.  I started one of these WAY back when.  Never did finish it, but I'm thinking about looking up that list, seeing what I have finished along the way and trying to polish it off as well.  Or maybe adding to it again.  We'll see. 

It's gonna be a great year. 

Radvent Day 3: Writing

A continuation of Princess Lasertron's Radvent Blogging Extravaganza!

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Write a letter of love to yourself to read in one year.

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Dear sensitive, analytical, stubborn Marienkafer,

this is a very timely challenge.  You've been feeling pretty bummed lately.  It has been a rough last half of the year for you.  There was the kitchen remodel.  Lita's surgery.  Jumping on the trying-to-conceive train only to have life get in the way, mostly with a minor surgery of your own--wisdom tooth removal.  Now it seems that everyone you know is getting pregnant or having babies!  Friends from high school.  A former co-worker of mine.  One of my best friends from graduate school.  Even your cousin announced that she is now expecting her second baby next year.  You're feeling hurt and left behind.  Lots can change in the next year though... especially since you're back on the train!  And you should be happy for all those lovely ladies!  I hope that you meet all those new babies and steal lots of tips from all those moms. 

There has also been lots of drama surrounding one good friend.  You've poured a lot of energy into worrying/responding to/trying to better that friendship and the efforts haven't really been returned as of yet.  This is a reminder to step out of the turmoil once in awhile, you can't fix everything and you can't change people either.  Sometimes friendships fall apart.  Cherish the ones you still have.  And since you're reading this, take a moment now to write out a list and finally send out Christmas cards for once, huh?!  Reconnect with some of the friends you may have lost touch with over the year.  

So it's been a rough last half of the year, so what.  Life has ups and downs.  Besides, on top of being sensitive, analytical and stubborn you are also...

~creative

~capable

~independent

~loyal

~hard-working

~trust-worthy

~honest

~wife, scientist, reader, daughter, dog-trainer, baker, cousin, photographer, painter, godmother, home-maker, gardener, friend... 

~and pretty damn good at laying thinset for tiles.  :)

Some things to remember:

Don't let other people dictate your actions/thoughts.

Stop over-analyzing.  

Whatever you're working on now, do it to the best of your ability.

Stress less.  

Be thankful; you are lucky. 

Take time to appreciate your family.  You have a lot of it.  Sometimes that is stressful and difficult, but they love you.  Be glad.

Don't forget to take time for yourself.  You used to love yoga.  Try it again if you've quit.  

It's okay to buy yourself presents... but don't get too caught up in material possessions.  You're spending a lot of time right now trying to decrease your "stuff."  Keep up with that.  

Love yourself and others will love you too.  

Much respect, 2010's version of Marienkafer

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Search for a special place to keep your writing materials. Have everything you need at the ready for creating your own beautiful magical words to offer the world.

* cards and stationery * a journal * stamps * special colored pens * beautiful paper * stickers * glitter glue * magazine pages for collages * patterned tapes *

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This part is just not going to happen right now.  All of my "crafty" things are stored away in a giant pink rubbermaid in the basement, waiting for proper homes.  Hopefully they'll get there by this time next year.  I'll need them to send out those Christmas cards.

Radvent Day 1: Remembering

I'm going to make an attempt to participate in a December "Radvent" Blogging Event, an idea created by the brilliant Princess Lasertron.  All through the month she'll be posting prompts for her own blog and other participants.  This will obviously be a real challenge for me considering I do not normally post with any regularity.  :)

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What were you doing five years ago today? As the holiday season began? Where were you? Who were you with? What did you want? What did you have?

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I have a terrible memory for these kinds of things.  In fact, I almost never remember gifts.  I can occasionally remember receiving an item from someone, but almost never remember when or even for what occasion.  I'm much better at remembering gifts I have given to others, but even still, the years blend together.  The point of course, is that I have no idea what I wanted for Christmas.  And I certainly don't remember what I received.  My wants and needs are definitely quite different this year than 2005.  Like I said, I have no idea what I received then or even what I asked for... maybe my iPod came that year.  Along with a bunch of new music/movies/video games.  but this year my "want" list is definitely more grown-up and includes some nice pots for the newly re-modeled kitchen, miscellaneous other articles for the home, jewelry and clothes, and magazine subscriptions.  :) 

December 2005... I was living in my little duplex (no roommate!), not far from the campus proper of the University of Illinois.  Gearing up for my last 6 months or so of my graduate career.  I had spent just over 2 years in the program at this point and things were ever so slowly coming to a close.  

I remember that it was a very strange time for me.  I didn't really feel connected to my high school friends back home anymore.  Mostly we had just fallen out of touch.  But I had made a small, but very close-knit group of new friends in my labs.  One of them was just getting ready to leave the lab and take a new position somewhere else.  She started the mass exodus, as over the course of the next year all of us would leave.  Of the 5 of us, 4 of us have remained in close contact and I have even attended 2 of their weddings and they all came to mine. 

Meanwhile, my boyfriend of 7 years (now husband) had a full time job back home.  We saw each other often enough, but there I was... still in school.  And with that (finally) ending I had a great unknown hanging in front of me: what in the world am I going to be with my Master's Degree?  Where will I go?  By then we at least knew that wherever we went, we would be together.

I also remember that this was the December that I attended the wedding of a guy that was a very good friend in high school.  And one that I had a major crush on for awhile.  It made me contemplate "what would have happened if..." for just a split second before realizing that things were just as they were meant to be.  :)

2005 was definitely a transitional year.  I was completing the first ever advanced degree in my family and feeling very "adult"!  But there was so much more to come...  In 2006 I would graduate and move back home.  To my parent's house.  Start and struggle with my first real job hunt.  2007 saw me moving in with my man, getting engaged, have a major health scare and purchasing our first home.  I can't wait to see what happens in the NEXT 5 years. 

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Start a new tradition with your family or friends this season to help you remember the beauty of NOW!

share a blog together * start a cookie swap * host a movie night * meet late for pancakes * invite your siblings to pick out a gift for your parents * get together with friends to make holiday decorations

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I'm cheating a little bit because technically we hosted our first holiday "Bon Pasco!" family gathering in 2007. But that was the first and last. This year, we're trying to revive the tradition. It's a small feat to get all of my and my husband's family together in the same place. 3 years ago we were actually missing some people so we'll see if we can manage to get everyone together this year! It will no doubt be stressful, but I'm looking forward to it. There will be holiday cheer, maybe some games, drinks all around and plenty of yumminess.

Bumps in the road.

Yeah, so... since my big "this is going to be the best year evah!" post, The Universe has been crapping on my parade. It has been one thing after another and I haven't been dealing with it very well. My poor husband has been riding a roller coaster and not knowing if he was going to get the "It's all going to be okay"-me or the "OMG! The Universe hates me!"-me.

Backtrack.

Shortly after my birthday we were slated to begin our kitchen remodel. As expected, we hit a few snags and got a bit delayed. We finally began the process with the removal of our cabinetry on October 1st. All in all, we are doing quite well with this whole thing. Once again, there have been a few snags. But we are doing a lot of the work ourselves (with help from my parents) and I'm so darn proud of us! Granted, even with things running relatively smoothly it's still stressful. We have a microwave in our office. A refrigerator in our living room. I'm washing dishes in our bathroom sink, while filling our water pitcher from the tub. We've been eating takeout pretty much every night. Some people may find that fun, but I don't. So it's been... a challenge.

Then, one day I came home to find that our precious pooch had eaten her leash. All 6 feet of her leather leash, devoured. Like, I found the clip from the leash still attached to her harness AND the clicker that is normally looped around the handle, but not a single scrap/piece/molecule of the leash, devoured. I took her to the vet that night and because we didn't know how long ago she had eaten it, they didn't want to induce vomiting. So, because she's a big girl, we were told to feed her Wonderbread and vaseline sandwiches and hope that it would pass. Yum. She loved them. She was doing well for several days... things were still moving, so to speak. Then three days after her big snack, she vomited breakfast. Not good. Back to the vet for more Xrays and an intended barium series. This was not in Lita's plan though because despite the fact that three people were assisting, she would not take the barium. One regular Xray taken before trying the barium clearly showed "stuff" in her stomach. Knowing that our dog definitely had eaten something and that it was the something that causing the issue, we opted for surgery. This was an extremely stressful situation for both my husband and myself. Now I have worked in this very animal hospital. I know that gastronomies, while not super-common, do happen and usual have good outcomes if the dogs are seen early enough. None of that mattered because it had never been my dog in the situation before! I was a wreck. But we signed the papers, refused a quote (it didn't matter to us what it cost at that point) and left our big furbaby in capable hands. After an agonizing 5 hour wait (thanks to an emergency spleen-ectomy), we finally heard that the surgery was finished and Lita Loo was in recovery. They removed MANY 3-4 inch pieces of leash from her stomach and the rest of her system was clear. And, oh yeah, they also spayed her while they were in there (refer to early posts for info on her mystery cycles--she was supposedly spayed when we adopted)! Oh boy, a 2-fer! She spent a night in the hospital and it pained me to think of her there, alone and scared. And probably stressed out simply due to the presence of other dogs. She did well the next day though. Ate in the late afternoon and kept her food down, so the doctor agreed to release her. When we picked her up we could tell that she was out of it, spacey, didn't even seem to recognize us. Poor girl! The first night she was home she cried the whole night. This is quite normal for dogs coming home from surgery, but it broke my heart and I cried right along with her. Thankfully, things improved quickly from there. She ate her liquidy food quite well. By the third day she was even playful and we had to try to keep her calm since she had about 25 stitches in her belly. Now, 15 days post-op, her stitches are out. She had a minor infection at the incision site and is still on antibiotics. Other than that though, she is eating well and is back to her regular self. The one major change is that she is now crated during the day when we aren't home. We hope to transition her back to her regular kitchen corner once that area isn't a construction zone anymore and realize that it is probably the destruction of her "bedroom" that stressed her out enough to eat her leash in the first place.

Meanwhile, I was dealing with a health issue of my own. I have known for awhile that my wisdom teeth were coming in and have been trying to ignore them if I'm being honest. But they would not be ignored for awhile there... For several days I was in severe pain, pain that would even wake me up at night. I had to suck it up and visit my dentist. From the Xray she said that I may have a cyst in my jaw that the tooth was pushing on as it was emerging from the gum. And it was partially impacted as well. Both of these are factors that indicated that it needed to be removed. And why not remove the others at the same time??? Gee, thanks! So I went to an oral surgeon recently to schedule the surgery. The good news is that I don't actually have a cyst, but that tooth has still got to go. It's not sideways or anything, but there's just not enough room for it so it will never entirely break the surface of my gum. It's still causing me some pain too. So, yeah. I get to have my first surgery too. I'm a chicken and am not looking forward to it at all. I'm not so much worried about the pain afterward because I'm pretty sure I can handle it. It's the actual anesthesia that has me freaked.

Since I started having issues, I've been trying to get this taken care of asap though. Since, as I've indicated, we have been fully intending on starting to expand our family in the near future... The surgeon's first available appointment is another month away. The Monday before Thanksgiving! ha! :) There may be no big dinner for me this year. So we are delayed another month. Which is NOT that big of a deal really. But this news on TOP of all the other stress... sent me into a bit of a tailspin that I have been fighting to pull out of.

Slowly, but surely.

The kitchen is looking awesome. And the tiles go down this weekend so I am super-excited about that. As I said, Lita is doing well and is returning to her walking schedule... AND although I can see we've lost A LOT of ground in her training during her time off, we are starting a new class next week that I am so thrilled to be taking--nosework! AND... well, I don't really have anything good to say on the wisdom tooth subject... other than it will be taken care of. :)

So, that's where I've been. I'm hoping that this year will now balance itself out and I'll have tons of goodness (or at least LESS STRESS) coming my way soon. We'll see!

30 and loving it.

Okay, disclaimer: I have only been 30 for approximately 48 hours now. But hitting this "milestone" hasn't bothered me one bit! I have been a bit embarrassed to admit that I have reached the three decade mark, but only because *other* people seem to make such a big deal of it!

I feel great. In the past several weeks, I have lost 6 pounds thanks to eating better and the fact that I've been working out again. Better yet, I feel more toned. :) Always a good thing.

I have a husband that I love. We have a home. And are about to start (yes, *start*, we hit quite a few snags along the way) our first major renovation project.

We have a fabulous dog, whose behavior is improving greatly.

And are discussing the addition of a two-legged family member in the near future. Which, in my mind, is WAY more of a milestone than turning 30.

Here's hoping that the next year is the best one yet.

Happy Birthday to me.

Today is my birthday.  I am 29 years young.  People have been asking me all day how I feel about that.  Acting like it's the end of the world that next year I will transition to the next set of tens.  Right now I feel fine about it.  Ask me again next year. 

Birthdays are always a good time to reflect.  To think about where you are, where you've come from.  This year I am thankful.  I have been thinking about the accomplishments I've made in the last 3 years.  The list is definitely something to be proud of.

~Made it through Graduate School on my own dime (mostly) and my own merit (entirely).
~Received my M.S.
~Authored or co-authored 3 publications (and the first even made the journal cover!).
~Paid off my car (with lots of help from my parents, the only "help" I received during grad school).
~Got my first "real" job.
~Worked there 2 years so far and still enjoy it--most days.
~Bought a house.
~Planned a wedding.
~Got married.
~Gone on 2 international getaways--Antigua and England.
~Became a Godmother.
~Presented a poster at an international conference.
~Went through the new car buying experience without any parental support--eeek!
~Adopted a dog.

There's some major milestones in there!  I've come a long way, baby.

Here's hoping the next 3 years are just as good. 
Happy Birthday to me.