The State of the Quarter-Acre

So. This month marks four years since I started blogging here. Four years of blogging and I'm just not feeling it anymore. I could give you the laundry list of reasons why I'm not feeling it, but mostly it boils down to having less time to do it and more things I would like to use that wee bit of time for. I might pop in occasionally to post some photos of the boys, but you won't be seeing much day-to-day stuff. I won't be shutting the blog down, so you can still scroll through photos of the boys and refer to recipes whenever you want.

Thank you all for checking in on us as we brought two babies home, for watching them grow week by week, for being interested in what we grew and built and painted and thought. Since we know most of you outside the blogosphere, we'll still be around.

Until we see you face-to-face, just figure this is what life looks like on a daily basis, minus the picturesque backdrop and coordinating outfits.

Happenings

My mind keeps churning the thought, "I need to do another blog post. But what?" So today, you get a bit of this and that, because that's what life is at the moment. A little progress on a lot of things, a lot of repetition, and some new routines in the mix.

We (and I use the we generously because the bulk of this falls to Keith) have been laying flagstone on our patio. It is not the quick project we thought it would be, but we are really pleased with how it is turning out. It has eaten up nearly all of Keith's weekend time since the Labor Day weekend, and there are at least two more weekends of work to go. Literal tons of stone, sand, lime, and cement have been handled for this project. More details to follow when it is all finished!

There are projects that I can't show you yet, Halloween costumes and Christmas gifts that are keeping my hands busy. And Elliott's Christmas stocking, which I am madly stitching away at in hopes of having it ready for the holidays this year.

And of course there are these two, who keep a person quite busy.

There are things on repeat, like bread baking and yogurt making, that fill the days when I think there is nothing really going on.

There are brand-new things, like my sweet little niece who arrived earlier this month. Perhaps I am a bit biased, but I am certain she is the dearest thing I have ever seen. Have you ever seen such perfect little lips?

Colter was quite excited to meet her, as we all were.

The garden is finished with the exception of some brussels sprouts. We are enjoying the bold and beautiful blooms of some dahlias from bulbs a co-worker of Keith's gave us.

Colter has a playgroup one morning each week. The four families take turns hosting, and then every fifth week, we take a little outing. The first was to a pumpkin patch, where we enjoyed a hayride, a short movie about how pumpkins grow, and lots of play time in corn bin "sandboxes" and climbing on combines. Silly me, I didn't take any pictures but the other moms had me covered.

I feel like we are barreling through fall at warp speed, and I am not ready to say goodbye to mild weather and time spent outside. Certainly Colter isn't and Keith feels like he is racing the calendar to wrap up the patio project. I hope fall has been lovely so far for all of you!

And That's That

For all the things I've written about on the blog, one I've barely mentioned is nursing. I know breastfeeding is the popular term, but truly I prefer nursing. Breastfeeding sounds so, well, like we are talking about my boobs as opposed to feeding my babies. And I really don't want to talk about my boobs.

Anyway. I'm done nursing. Rather, Elliott is done nursing. I can't even tell you what day was his last day. Sometime mid-August. Much like Colter, there was no active weaning. For awhile, he was down to only morning and night feedings, then I was out late one night and he went to bed without nursing, and without a fuss. So I stopped feeding him at night. The morning feeding hung in there for a few more days, mostly because Elliott and Colter don't always get up at the same time and I could nurse Elliott and then we would all eat breakfast together. Then there were a few days in a row where they were up at the same time and we just came downstairs and ate breakfast straightaway. And he never missed a beat.

Both boys were completely weaned, with no fuss, right around ten or ten-and-a-half months. Sometime after Colter stopped nursing, a friend told me about an article she read that most kids self-wean when they begin to walk, part of an evolutionary thing because they are physically able to move away from their mothers on their own. I don't know the science behind that, but it fits with my boys; Colter was walking steadily by the time he weaned, Elliott began cruising furniture and taking little steps around the time he stopped nursing.

I also heard, sometime between Colter and Elliott, about the weaning method "don't offer, don't refuse." Basically, don't sit down and try to feed the baby, but if he's looking for it, don't push him away. I think I pushed nursing longer with Colter, but was more along these lines with Elliott. I just let it be on their own time, and wasn't worried about the calendar or how old they were.

I am glad that nursing was, overall, a pretty easy and natural experience for me both times around. There was a bit of a rough start with Colter, but both boys took to it well and I got comfortable with it. It was a huge help to have Keith be so supportive, and extended family and friends that accepted and accommodated us while each of the boys were nursing. Keith and I both felt that it would be the best thing for our boys and our family, and I'm glad to have done it for them. I am lucky in that I didn't have to pump very much or very often, and I give a lot of credit to moms who go back to work and stick with nursing and pumping. I'm not sure I would have been as committed if I had to hook myself up to a machine instead of my baby.

Just like nursing bras, nursing is not one-size-fits all, and I'm not a lactation specialist, so my experience is almost certainly going to differ from any other mom's. Here's the little bit I can offer though, just in case it might be useful to someone else. It helps to mentally commit to it beforehand. It takes a couple weeks for mom and baby to get really comfortable with it, so stick with it. (Someone told me three weeks is the magic number; that sounds about right.) A Boppy is really nice to have. I never got the hang of a nursing cover but I've seen other people use them and really like them. Sometimes it was tough to always be the one on-call for feedings, or to leave a gathering to sit and nurse. I found when the daytime feedings tapered off, I missed that break built into my day where all I had to do was sit and feed the baby. And maybe read a book while I did it. Lanolin or some other protective cream is your friend. Watch out when the teeth come in. Don't worry about all the hype that sometimes accompanies nursing; I know people that are comfortable nursing at a table at a restaurant, and I preferred to sit in the car, a dressing room, or on a quiet bench somewhere when we were out and about. Find your comfort zone, and let it be about you and your baby. It doesn't need to be a statement.

With all that said, I am fine with it being finished. I am glad to not have to worry about where and when to feed a baby, and what to wear to make it easier and avoid flashing anybody. (Anybody who knows me and has been flashed, I'm sorry. I really tried not to go all National Geographic on anybody.) I guess the research says nursing creates all kinds of bonding chemicals that are important early on, but I did not feel any need to extend that bond by nursing beyond infancy. Believe me, these kids are bonded. They won't leave me alone.

All in all, nursing being over feels rather anticlimactic. I am not sad it is over,  nor am I ecstatic to be done. From the start, nursing my babies felt like the most natural and right thing for them, and for me, and it is only natural that it runs it's course.

I am going to miss that built-in calorie burner though. I will have to go a little easier on the nightly bowl of ice cream now.

And since a post wouldn't be complete without a picture, here's a little photo challenge for you. Can you guess whether or not I'm nursing Elliott here?

And the answer is: who cares? Look at the smile on Colter's face!

Happy 7

Seven years today. Seven years of being married to a wonderful man, a thoughtful husband, and an amazing father.

I'm so lucky to have found such a good man to put up with me. Happy anniversary Keith!

Dear Grandpop

On Friday, we paid our last respects to my grandpop. It was certainly not an easy thing to do, but I count myself as very fortunate to have had all my grandparents in my life for all these years, to have grown up with their influence and to be able to get to know them as an adult. And certainly to have them meet my babies.

Everyone had lots of memories to share about Grandpop, and we reminisced over old photos. There will be so many times we think of him, the very particular and practical and generous man that he was.

So Grandpop, we'll be thinking of you when your birthday rolls around, which you shared with Colter...
...when we hit the road for Maine and pull out your handwritten directions, complete with exit numbers, mile markers, and approved restroom stops; you were the original Mapquest...
...when we cringe as someone says "irregardless" or "I don't think"...
...when we make snack mix and can't stop eating it...
...when we pull out the trains and pizzelle iron at Christmas...
...when the men in the family get a thirst for PBR at 11 a.m. the Saturday after Thanksgiving...
...when we play Monopoly...
...when we mix a gin and tonic or pour a good Scotch...
...when we pass the New Hampshire liquor store...
...when we look at my brother, who looks so much like you did as a young man...
...when we look at Elliott, who has that look as well...
...when we see a special for spaghetti on a Wednesday night...
...when hunting season rolls around...
...when we make lists and organize...
...and so, so many other times. You will be greatly missed, but certainly never forgotten.

Less Is More

I was thinking the other day about how the phrase "we want more for our kids" is often thrown around, and the idea that as parents, we want our kids to have more than we had. But more of what exactly? From where I sit now, it seems that just by virtue of growing up in middle-class America today, my boys will have more than I had: more toys, more books, more stuff, more choices of activities, more opportunities to travel. That seems like a good thing, until I stop and think that I had plenty of toys, books, and stuff, no shortage of things to do, and a healthy amount of travel opportunities. So maybe I don't want more for my boys. Maybe I want to make sure in a time of more, their lives don't get too cluttered up. Maybe rather than giving them more than I had, I want to make sure they aren't so busy and distracted that they miss out on the things I did, and still do, have.

I want them to have toys that they love deeply and play with to exhaustion, not just lots of toys. I can remember elaborate Lego constructions, detailed farming operations with tiny toy tractors, and hours and hours of caring for a favorite doll.

I want my boys to not be over-scheduled with lessons and practices, and to fully engage in the activities they do choose. I remember my brother taking karate lessons, and giving them up when he decided to play basketball in middle school. In elementary school, we had an after-school art club and phys-ed club, but when I got my horse in fifth grade, taking care of her after school became my priority. I want Colter and Elliott to find the things they enjoy and excel at, not be signed up for every activity available. I hope as a parent I can look at my kids and recognize when they are ready for sports or lessons, and if they are tiring of them, when is the right time to let them step away. And as a family, I don't want us to be frazzled by running in so many different directions that we lose touch with each other and don't even sit down to meals together.

I don't know what technology and social media will look like when these two are old enough for it, but I want them to have plenty of meaningful face-to-face contact with the people in their lives. I was so lucky to grow up in close proximity to much of my family, in and out of my grandparents' house nearly as often as my own and seeing my cousins daily. We didn't have to think about cultivating those relationships because we saw each other so frequently, and I want my boys to be close to all of their family, even if it takes a little more work to arrange seeing each other.

Vacations in my family were never elaborate affairs when I was young: Maine, the shore, a trip to the Southwest when my brother was stationed in Arizona, a trip to the Outer Banks with a stop in Williamsburg and Jamestown, a few bus trips to New York and Washington, DC. During college, I was lucky enough to take trips to London and a cruise to Bermuda. When Keith and I talk about what vacations we want to take with our boys, we want to share with them the places we love and the beautiful sights and history this country has to offer, and we aren't particularly interested in resorts and theme parks. I am so excited to share Maine with Colter and Elliott, who are the fifth generation of my family to vacation at that very spot. I hope they get to see every inch of the world that interests them, but I don't feel that it has to happen in the timeline of their childhood. (Keith and I dream of a trip to England and Ireland, sans children. So twenty years from now, perhaps?) I hope, too, that they find places they love and want to return to again and again, that feel as much like home to them as the home they live in.

I don't think my boys need any more than I had, but I want them to have plenty: plenty of time to explore, play and learn; plenty of family and love; plenty of enthusiasm for the world around them, near and far; and plenty of opportunities to grow. I want them to have just what I had.

The Second Time Around

I haven't been very good about writing anything on how we are managing with two lately. In short, we're managing. Most days, I think quite well. Others, well, some days seem very long. Colter went through a phase of ultra-defiance, over every little thing, and "No!" was pretty much the only thing he seemed to say. It can wear a person down. But he seems to have come through that, for the most part anyway and has been much more agreeable lately. (Insert big sigh of relief.)



As for Elliott and how he's doing, he's doing pretty well. For the past week or so, he has been getting up twice a night, every night. Which is a big change from sleeping through the night most nights or only getting up once. Is it because we stopped swaddling? (He was Houdini-ing his way out of them in the night.) Is it a growth spurt? Is he teething? I honestly don't know but I'm really trying to just roll with it. In the late hours of the night and wee hours of the morning, I just remind myself that it won't last forever. On the upside, he is going down for naps fairly easily during the day and often has a several hour nap at least once a day, giving me time to do things around the house or have some one-on-one time with Colter. Of course, maybe it's the more regular napping and less frequent feeding that are wrecking havoc with our nights. If there's anything I learned from Colter though, it's that these things eventually sort themselves out with very little help from me. (I do let him cry it out at night though if it has been less two hours since he ate last. The little man can do better than that!)

The big thing we have been dealing with for Elliott is that he has a condition called torticollis, which is a shortening or tightening of the neck muscles that makes him turn his head to one side. When he was just about a month old, we noticed that the one side of his head was looking a bit flat. When we had his one-month appointment, the doctor recommended with have an evaluation to see if he would need physical therapy. Turns out he does, so each week an early-intervention physical therapist comes to the house and works with him and shows us stretches and techniques to help strengthen his neck muscles. We are lucky in that I know a therapist through the group of moms I sometimes get together with and I was able to request her, so it has been really nice to have someone here that I feel comfortable asking questions and working with. Slowly, his head is rounding out (you might not have even noticed it if you didn't know, but now you will all be looking for his flat spot) and we can hopefully avoid needing a helmet to reshape it. Torticollis is a fairly common and easily addressable things, especially when it is identified and treated early.

Also, Elliott is battling some eczema, which is worst on his face (you probably saw it in the weekly pictures). It comes and goes, flaring up in the cold, dry weather and calming down when we have a few warmer, damp days. So we are constantly putting lotion on during the day, and slathering him up with Aquaphor before naps and bedtime. He has some scaly cradle cap too, which I remember Colter having as his newborn hair fell out, but that seems manageable with some baby oil and frequent washing. Both boys seem to have my sensitive skin, poor things.

Two relatively minor health things make me realize how very lucky we are to have the healthy, happy boys we do. It's hard to imagine how families deal with really serious conditions; finding out Elliott needed physical therapy and treating his sore little face are enough to make me feel stressed and fretful.

It's hard to believe how quickly Elliott is growing, as he gains more personality and becomes more expressive each day. I have to stop myself sometimes from comparing him to Colter (Wasn't Colter rolling over already? Colter liked tummy time more. Was Colter this spitty?) and remember that Elliott is and always will be his own person and do things in his own time. He is certainly a more relaxed baby than Colter ever was, and that is a relief. He is often entranced by his brother's antics (actually, that goes both ways these days) and it is a joy to watch them interact.

Update: Elliott rolled over! Belly to back, and Keith and I both got to see this first!

Whoever said that two is more than twice the work of one was absolutely right, and sometimes I can't believe the amount of things that don't get done. Getting out the door for something simple like story time at the library can seem daunting, and going to the grocery store with both of them? Once was enough; now I go on the weekends or evenings when Keith is home. But for the most part, we are all quite content to be at home and so that's what we do. And it is certainly these two boys that make this house a home.

Squeezing the Tooth Fairy

This little article came from my mom-mom, via my mom, and I just have to share it because it is, well, absurd.

Inflation costs Tooth Fairy

NEW YORK (AP) - Days of finding a quarter under your pillow are long gone. The Tooth Fairy no longer leaves loose change.
   Kids this year are getting an average of $3.70 per lost tooth, a 23 percent jump over last year's rate of $3 a tooth, according to a new survey by payment processor Visa Inc., released Friday. That's a 42 percent spike from the $2.60 per tooth that the Tooth Fairy gave in 2011. Part of the reason for the sharp rise: Parents don't want their kids to be the ones at the playground who received the lowest amount.
   "A kid who got a quarter would wonder why their tooth was worth less than the kid who got $5," says Kit Yarrow, a consumer psychologist and professor at Golden Gate University.
   To avoid that, Brian and Brittany Klems asked friends and co-workers what they were giving their kids. The Klems, who have three daughters and live in Cincinnati, settled on giving their six-year-old daughter Ella $5 for her first tooth.

I'm pretty certain that we maxed out at a dollar, and I think most of the time we got a special coin, like a 50-cent piece in lieu of actual spending money. But five bucks for going through a natural growth stage? Come on.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not...

He loves me.

I know for sure because he spent his entire Sunday sanding down the wainscoting in the laundry room in preparation for painting it.

And he got this filthy.

Not that I ever doubted it.

He says to be absolutely sure about the paint color I pick, because he is never doing this again. And maybe I waffle on paint colors, but I know I picked right with him.

The Pits of the Potty

Also titled: The Diaper Diaries: Epilogue

Way back at the end of May, we decided to jump into potty training. We were getting ready to move Bert into his big boy room, and after much back and forth, decided it would be logical to leave the diapers and the crib behind at the same time. Logical, maybe. Easy, no.

Memorial Day was the official start. I had read through John Rosemond's book Toilet Training Without Tantrums and felt like I was ready to start. The basic premise of his method is go directly to underwear, and don't look back. So with two potties (one for upstairs, one for down), a couple of packs of 2T underwear, and a few pairs of training pants, we jumped in. Although the book recommends staying away from training pants, we decided it might be best to have a few pairs around for times we didn't want to risk puddles in public.

The thing about starting potty training is you have to commit to staying around the house for awhile. At least I felt we did. There were a lot of accidents and a lot of resistance to sitting on the potty. I tried to relax and let Bert self-direct as recommended, but it was really hard for me to not trail him around the house, watching for signs that he needed to pee.

After only one or two successes a day (if any) in the first week, I was beginning to wonder if we really had started too early. Maybe he really doesn't know when he has to go? I thought. Then, one night at supper he started throwing his food on the floor. When we took him out of his seat and made him pick it up, he threw a fit. Then he gave up his trump card: he sat on the floor, staring Keith down, and peed. That kid knew when he needed to go and how to hold it. So we took it up a notch, closing him in the bathroom with his potty and not letting him out until he went. We checked on him every ten minutes or so, and after about an hour, he peed and pooped in his potty.

You would think that would be a turning point, but it wasn't really. He'd go occasionally, but usually only if I shut him in the bathroom or the laundry room with his potty. A lot of times even then he would pee in a corner instead of sitting on the potty. Let's not forget the time I was getting clean underwear for him, only to return and find him squatting and pooping in the kitchen, and then on my foot as I scooped him up and rushed him to the potty. Or when he ran to the couch after I took his swim trunks off, kneeled on it and peed across the living room.

We started using the "potty bell," a timer I set at intervals of when I thought he might need to go. It took the resistance factor away, because within a day or two, when Bert heard the bell he would run back to the potty and take his underwear off. But it was still really hit or miss.

About two and half weeks in, he was running through the kitchen, slipped, and started bawling. The culprit? A puddle of pee I hadn't even discovered yet. As I was down on my hands and knees, tears of frustration rolling down my cheeks, I decided it was time to up the ante. (Also, the thought ran through my mind that maybe potty training during the roller coaster of pregnancy hormones was not such a brilliant plan.) It was time for rewards. Or as I recently heard it called, "extrinsic motivation."

I really didn't want to give rewards. I had it in my head that this was something that was expected of him, and Bert should learn that there are things you just have to do. But I caved and bought a bag of M&Ms. On some advice from my mom about kids and rewards, I decided that every time he peed or pooped in the potty, he would get two M&Ms. If it happened anywhere else, I got two. And I would eat them. In front of him.

It took less than three days.

He bawled, he screamed, he pulled on my leg when I ate his chocolates. But if I had to wipe pee and poop off the floor, two tiny chocolates was the least he owed me. And then it all started to click. I still used the potty bell to help remind him, but in no time he was going by himself. He was even able to pull his underwear down and use the potty with no help from me. Two M&Ms in hand, and he was a different kid.

Roughly two months later, Bert is doing really well. He still wears a diaper or pull-up at night, but occasionally wakes up dry. Most days he is dry when he gets up from a nap as well. I place the potty in his room with him during nap time and he will sometimes go and put himself back to bed or go first thing when he wakes up.

These days, we take the potty everywhere and he will use it in the back of the car when he needs. He will tell us when he needs to go if he can't get to the potty himself (like if we are outside or once, yelling from the backseat, "Need the white potty!" which prompted a quick roadside pitstop). Even during our week in Maine, he only had one accident, which really surprised us because we were prepared for a tough week.

The other thing that gives us peace of mind when we are out and about are wee-wee pads. You know, the ones they make for dogs. We had some leftover from when our dog was getting old and use them in the stroller and car seat to protect against accidents in places that would be tough to clean up. We have also used them in restaurant high chairs and once in an upholstered chair at the doctor's office. There were several times we were very glad we had them.

Now that Bert has the hang of things for the most part, he doesn't even always come looking for his chocolates. And since we know he can go unassisted, he only gets them if all the pee is in the potty (pointing himself down is still a challenge).

Just so you don't think I'm gloating that Bert was potty trained by the time he turned two, you should know that the day I wrote this, he had two all-over-the place accidents. He's been eating cantaloupe and watermelon all day, so I blame it on that. He was still upset when I ate his chocolate.

So, now that you've read my all that, maybe you are wondering what was the point of sharing (possibly over sharing?) all that? Well, if you are family and friends, you might have already heard bits and pieces and it's good for a laugh. But my real point is for any other moms who may stumble across this as they are on the verge, or in the middle of, potty training, and feeling it is a bit hopeless. My best advice is stick with it. Give your kid some credit, he or she can probably handle it. I mean, puppies figure it out. It is a pretty safe bet that the difficult beautiful little person you created can master it too. So stock up on the paper towels, and possibly the carpet cleaner, and go with the flow.

On Dads

I have been incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by strong male figures throughout my whole life. Not just my dad, but a brother I count as one of my best friends; three grandfathers who are so different from one another but who have all been incredibly generous with their time, resources, knowledge and experience; and uncles who show over and over again the value of lending a hand and hard work.

But it's Father's Day, so let's take a little closer look at my dad, who wants to know what's up with the abbreviation when I write "Dad" instead of "Daddy." He's a man who has always had a lot on his plate (the debate rages over what constitutes "too much") and has to be ten hours from home to actually relax. He is among the smartest people I know, though he will tell you he can't do algebra, and he is the hardest worker I can think of. It's amazing how the things my brother and I thought were ridiculous expectations growing up turned out to be some of the most important shapers of our character. Some of my favorite Daddy-isms would have to be:

     • Do as I say, not as I do.
     • Don't make it harder than it has to be.
     • Do it right the first time.

For all his demands of us, Daddy was the one to give it to our whims: puppies and horses, motorcycles and rifles. He has always been a very in-the-moment kind of person, which sometimes still runs counter to my plan-oriented nature and difficulty switching gears (mental gears, but now that I think of it, the lesson on driving stick shift didn't go so well either). He sees the value in everything, deeming what I would consider junk as rusty gold and calling it our inheritance. He's also really amazing at seeing the value in people and extending his help and his knowledge again and again.

Daddy is a great people person. It's rare to go anywhere with him without bumping into someone he knows. Even on vacations several hours from home this happens. He can talk so long with anybody we even had a little rhyme about it as kids:

Just sittin' in the car
While Daddy talks and talks.
He knows just where we are
But still he talks and talks.
We try so hard to be patient
But sometimes it gets pretty boring.
By the time he comes back
We'll probably all be snoring!

Daddy is a great story teller too. He has stories from growing up and his college days that crack me up every time he tells them.

Keith likes to tell me I'm a lot like my dad, usually meaning that I can be stubborn and get a certain tone to my voice. Those things are true, but I'd like to think that I'm the hard worker he raised me to be, someone who is open to adventure, and who sees value where others haven't thought to look as well.

...............

Speaking of Keith, I can't let Father's Day pass without talking about him. Keith was always on board with having a family, but I think he really worried that he wouldn't enjoy the baby stage. It was amazing to watch him soak up every moment along the way with Bert and find that every stage has been fun so far. I know he looks forward to watching both these boys play sports, but I am so grateful that he has been incredibly involved since the moment Bert arrived. He doesn't give a second thought to coming home from a long day at work and spending the evening playing with Bert, taking him on bike rides or walks through the park. His patience astounds me and even though I'm the one here with Bert all day, I definitely can learn something about parenting from Keith.  He is such an essential part of raising these boys into good men, and it's a big responsibility but he tackles it the way he does everything else: honestly, head-on, and with a good dose of humor. I couldn't be happier with the partner I have in him and the support he gives me every day is what keeps me going.

................

Let's not forget a more-than-honorable mention to my brother, who chose to become a dad when he didn't have to, and never looked back even when it didn't all work out the way he planned. I couldn't be prouder of the  man he is today, and the great parent he is to the most fun and exuberant girl I have ever met. He is like my dad, one of those all-in, in-the-moment guys, and still able to keep the big picture of what an important job it is to raise a child.

So here's to all the dads out there, and all the men who have helped to shape my life into what it is today. Happy Father's Day!

Did We Mention?

If you are family or friends (and really, just about everybody who reads this is), you probably already know this news.

First off, we are having another baby! The due date is October 1, which seems like both a long time away and not so long at all.

The second part of the news is that we found out on Friday that we are having a boy! We are so excited for Bert to have a brother to play with. And though I won't get the pleasure of buying little girl clothes, I am already anxious to pull out all Bert's outgrown clothes and see them used again. There are so many little outfits that I loved and it seemed like he barely wore things before he outgrew them.

(He was very uncooperative at Friday's ultrasound so there aren't any great images, but all the measurements and the heartbeat were good and healthy, and that's all that really matters.)

Unlike Bert, whose real name we had picked long before we even knew we were having a boy, we aren't set on a name for this little guy yet. He is right now affectionately referred to as "Baby 2" while we throw ideas around.

Keith and I were talking recently about how this second pregnancy has a different kind of excitement to it. It is much more mellow. We are thrilled to be adding to our family, but not having all the anxious preparing and knowing what to expect at appointments allows us to relax and enjoy it a bit more. Most of the prep this time around involves getting Bert's big boy room ready so the crib is available for the baby (more on that later). Also, Bert himself takes a great deal of time and attention and significantly reduces the amount of time available for daydreaming about the tiny human on the way. I have some other goals, like preparing more meals for the freezer ahead of bringing a new baby home and making baby food this summer as we harvest things from the garden. I have some high hopes of potty training Bert towards the end of the summer so that we are only dealing with diapers on one kid, but I also don't want to push him before he's ready because I've heard that can backfire.

As for what Bert thinks, he knows there is a baby growing in Mommy's belly and occasionally lifts up my shirt to say, "Hi baby!" before yanking it back down and saying, "Close it!" Sometimes he peers into my belly button, as if he could see in there and get a look at his little brother. It will be interesting to see how he handles it when his brother arrives, but I think he will be excited and we'll see a gentler side of him.

We'll keep you all posted on how things are going and what projects we are doing to get our house and family ready for Baby 2.

Snack Time

If Bert woke up from his nap right now and asked for a snack, I would tell him that it is too close to supper time to have a snack. Bert is not up from his nap yet, the coffee is still hot from making a pot for Uncle Travis (whose visit explains the late napping as well), and I am having a snack. Poor Bert; that's really unfair.

Still Here

We've been pretty absent for a week now. I don't have a good excuse, except that we haven't been doing anything I would consider very blog-worthy. And the things we have done, like playdates and visiting with family, we've done without the camera so there isn't much to show there. Mostly we've been hanging out, staying warm and dry, and waiting on spring.

Speaking of which, spring is right around the corner. (Or so I'm told.) I looked at a planting chart for our area and it says I can start planting peas and onions and things on March 6. Eek! The garden is so far from being ready to plant anything, and the weather hasn't really been nice enough to do anything out there. I should at least be making my lists of what we will grow this year and buying some seeds.

My mom and I ventured out to a fabric store while she was here visiting and I finally got the fabric for the border of Bert's quilt, so I need to hop to it on that one. My aunt generously offered to do the hand-quilting, so I'd like to get it done to hand off to her next time we are up there. Ready for another project, Aunt Cathy?

I am telling myself to enjoy this lull before spring is really upon us and the garden needs lots of attention, before Bert wants to be outside all the time. Winter is feeling long, but we are nearing the end of our hibernation. Hang in there; we're bound to do something interesting and post about it soon.

Simple vs. Easy

A couple weeks ago, I read Julie Powell's book Julie & Julia about her year spent cooking her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I thoroughly enjoyed it, laughing aloud at many parts and reading snippets to Keith. One part really sticks with me though, and I'd like to share it with you:

The thing you learn with Potage Parmentier is that "simple" is not exactly the same as "easy." It had never occurred to me that there was a difference until Eric and I sat down on our couch the night of my appointment at the gynecologist's, three months after stealing my mother's forty-year-old cookbook, and took our first slurps of Julia Child's potato soup.   Certainly I had made easier dinners. Unwrapping a cellophane-swathed hunk of London-broil and tossing it under the broiler was one method that came immediately to mind. Ordering pizza and getting drunk on Stoli gimlets while waiting for it to arrive, that was another favorite. Potage Parmentier didn't even hold a candle, in the easy department.

She goes on, several pages later:

Lulled by the calming music of ice clattering in the cocktail shaker, I began to ponder; this life we had going for ourselves, Eric and I, it felt like the opposite of Potage Parmentier. It was easy enough to keep on with the soul-sucking jobs; at least it saved having to make a choice. But how much longer could I take such an easy life? Quicksand was easy. Hell, death was easy. Maybe that's why my synapses had started snapping at the sight of potatoes and leeks in the Korean deli. Maybe that was what was plucking deep down in my belly whenever I thought of Julia Child's book. Maybe I needed to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be part of something that was not easy, just simple.

To me, she captures the reason Keith and I do a lot of the things we do, and why our plans for the future look the way they do. That's not to say we never take the easy way out, because we sometimes do (I pretty much always have a frozen pizza on hand for nights when cooking is just not going to happen).

Certainly it would be easier to forget the garden and buy all our vegetables. Jars of tomato sauce from the grocery store would be easier than canning all of ours. It's simpler, though, to know where at least some of our food comes from and to not worry about how loaded up it is with pesticides and preservatives.

It is simpler, too, to stay home with Bert, to have time to spend with him and time to take care of things around our home than it would be to add the pressures of both of us going to work each day. It would be easier, in a financial sense, if we had two incomes but we decided that wasn't the best choice for our family. That is not to say that I think households with two working parents picked the easy route, because I certainly understand that it is demanding to have both a career and a family. At any rate, I am pretty sure staying home isn't the easy way to go, because there are some long and trying days involved. I guess when it comes to kids, there probably isn't an easy route, and every family has to find what works for them.

I think what Julie Powell was saying, or at least what I was reading, is that it is good to take a longer look and put some work into the things that mean something to us, and taking the easy way out on the important things is cheating ourselves.

The In-Between

I've read a few articles and posts lately about people, and whole families, having tech-free or electronic-free days. I think it's a great idea to disconnect from the screen and reconnect with the actual people around you, so I'm all for it. And since my 7-year-old laptop is on the fritz and our new computer is backordered, the Quarter-Acre Adventure is experiencing a bit of of disconnect, though not really willingly.

I'm avoiding loading any pictures and video onto this old computer, because I would have to then immediately back it up to an external hard drive. So for the next week or so, any posts will be photo-free, which is admittedly incredibly boring. And incredibly frustrating because I have at least three up my sleeve that I really want to share with you! I'm trying to reserve what ever life this computer has for other more necessary things, like my freelance work and stuff for the borough commission I'm on, while I wait for that hallowed package to be delivered.

In the meantime, I will try to go do some things and build up some more blog-worthy material. Thanks for your patience, and I can't wait to get back to blogging as normal!

Thrifty in '13

With a new year upon us, everybody seems to be making resolutions. Keith and I didn't sit down and specifically make any, but we do have some goals for this year. I know Keith wants to exercise more, and I just want to commit to doing more. I love to read, but I have to set the books aside and get a little busier. Here are some of the specific things I want to get busy at, and when I looked at my list, they all seemed to coincide with spending a little less too.

1. Baking bread. Bert loves toast, and I could definitely be a carb addict. It's time that I jumped in and starting making more of my own bread. Keith is campaigning for rye and fancy things; I just want a loaf of whole wheat that actually rises! My grammy has made all her own bread and rolls for as long as anyone can remember, so maybe I can carry on that tradition.

2. Grow more. More specifically, grow longer. We want to get some plantings started earlier, and plant some hardier things later in the season, and really get the most out of the garden space we have. This past fall, I actually threw a few more lettuce and spinach seeds into one of our small beds and we were eating salads into November. I think we can do better though, and add some things like cabbage and brussels sprouts to our fall plantings.

3. Get clean. I should spend more time cleaning. We may not have the budget to have all new floors and furniture, but we should at least have clean floors and furniture. In that vein, I also want to make more of my own cleaning products, using things like vinegar and baking soda.

4. New windows. Our planned big project for this year that we are budgeting for is new windows and a door for our mud room/laundry room. If you are wondering how that fits into being thrifty, you should feel the cold air that comes in around them all winter long. I think replacing them will go a long way in reducing our heating costs, as well as being more secure. And looking a lot better.

5. Stay entertained. With Bert getting older and more active, we are always on the lookout for fun things to do as a family that don't cost too much. I want to be better about searching out and planning more low-cost activities for us.

6. Get craftier. I really enjoy making cards and gifts. My problem is that I don't plan ahead and give myself enough time to do projects. So the goal for this year is to keep an eye on the calendar and get busy with making personalized cards and thoughtful gifts. Oh, and I started a BIG project for Bert, which I will fill you in on soon.

So there it is. I've said it so you can all hold me to it. But please don't be too hard on me if you don't get a handmade card for your birthday, ok?

Down to One

There are several debates that rage around pacifiers: whether to use them, when and how long to use them, and, maybe most of all, what to call them. When Bert was born, I was hesitant to start using one because I had heard if the baby was nursing, it could cause nipple confusion. (Never thought I'd use that word here.) Anyway, when the nurse offered us one right after he was born, I said no. And we held off for a couple weeks, reassured by our doctor that it was best to wait.

Well, by about three weeks in, Bert had the hang of nursing and we discovered he settled very quickly if we gave him one of our pinkies to suck on. Out came the pacifiers, and we never looked back. We also never called them anything but pacifiers. Well, we might have referred to it as the mute button a time or two. The silence was music to our ears. Bert slept better with them and was less fussy through the day.

At about the nine month mark, when Bert was starting to babble a lot more, Keith declared he didn't need them during the day anymore. My first thought was, "Sure, you aren't here with him all day. You don't have to listen to the whining." It only took about a week for him to get used to not having his pacifier, and he definitely started "talking" a lot more.

From that point on, pacifiers have been reserved for naps and bedtime. Every morning and after every nap, I say, "Those are for sleeping babies," and he hands them over. And yes, "them" as in multiple pacifiers. Bert likes to have two: one to suck on and one to play with. We found if he only had one, he was pulling it out and playing and wouldn't settle down so we started giving him two and it worked like a charm.

Bert has had a total of six pacifiers over his nearly 18-months. And now, through losing a few and chewing through two, we are down to one. (Although I know one is floating around my parents house, because we lost it there this past weekend.)

Bert has been informed that when this last one is lost or chewed up, there will be no more pacifiers. I have no idea if he understands or not, but that's the way it goes. I just wonder how many days of fitful naps and restless nights there will be until he gets used to being without one.

I guess the days of this little face are over...

The Same Old

Is it just me, or does it seem like Keith is the only one who gets anything done around here? If you have been reading the blog over the past week or so, it certainly appears that way. And I have to give him a lot of credit because in addition to his 40-hour-plus week at work, he manages to really crank out the projects on the weekends.

Judging by my posts, all I do is read. In my defense, I spend a lot of time reading while Bert takes a half hour to eat breakfast, another twenty minutes for a morning snack, half hour at lunch, and twenty minutes again while eating his afternoon snack. Because I really shouldn't leave him unattended while he's eating. Right?

Lately, it feels like I do a lot of the same things. And I do them over and over.

I wash the same clothes. And towels. And diapers.

I do the dishes after lunch. And after dinner. And dinner? I feel like I'm using the same old recipes, over and over again.

I change diapers and clean poopy diapers. I clean the toilet (but probably not as often as I should.) I get the mail and pay the bills. I straighten up, tidy up, clean up. Endlessly.

Sometimes it is hard for me to find motivation in the midst of the mundane, to be creative when there are a zillion little things to attend to (and one big thing, known as Bert). But I have found time for some little projects, some that I'll share with you soon and some that aren't really blog-worthy but still give me some satisfaction. And I have a few new recipes I want to try and I'll be sure to post them if they measure up.

I watched a Hallmark movie the other night called The Magic of Ordinary Days. The movie was sweet (I'm a sucker for Hallmark movies) but what really sticks with me is the title. The magic of ordinary days. When I think about it, I can agree that there is some magic in caring for a little human all day, every day. And there is something special about cooking a meal for my family, even if we have had it twenty times. And there is something satisfying about baskets of clean clothes, neatly folded. The ordinary days do have their charm.

But if I'm being honest, there's nothing magical about poopy diapers and scrubbing toilets.