Last Christmas (Eve)...

We were getting ready to leave for a two week European adventure.
I was feeling nauseous.
I put on my workout pants (too tight) and went to the gym (closed)
My tight pants and the closed gym made me SOB
The nausea wouldn't go away
Reece brought home two very important tests
I took the first one
It was positive
I took the second one
It was positive too
I started to SOB again
I ordered Reece to go buy two more
I got in the shower and continued to sob
Reece came home
I took the third test
It was positive
I took the fourth test
Plus sign

Last Christmas Eve, my life changed forever

This year, while searching for an earring in the bottom bathroom drawer, I came across those fateful tests...



Then I walked in my bedroom to find the ultimate result...



Best Christmas gift ever.

Merry Christmas Eve to all.

Holiday Sugar...

It really wouldn't be the holidays around my house without a little of this...






And of course, a lot of this...









I take my annual gingerbread (well, graham cracker) house VERY seriously. We're talking intense concentration and planning here. Reece enjoys the tradition as well, but does not enjoy the price tag attached to the loads of candy purchased by his wife.

This is what I came up with this year...



Here's a shot at the back, with a look at Reece's skyscraper as well...



I was very pleased with the results. Maybe the maternal creative magic is finally kicking in.



(This fabulous hair shot was taken after we both fell asleep several times during "A Christmas Story")

As for Miss Lola -- two licks of frosting led to a sugar-induced comatose state. Maybe next year...

Firsts...

There are many "firsts" a parent can't wait to witness in their child.

First steps.
First smile.
First laugh.
First word.

This weekend, Reece and I witnessed a very unwelcome "first" in our baby's life.

This "first" came with a fever, endless fussing and a refusal to sleep.

This weekend, Lola (and her helpless parents) suffered through her first urinary tract infection.

The worst part was sitting at work and hearing my girl scream through the phone while Reece held her at InstaCare, where she endured a catheter AND a nasty shot. I shed more than a few tears myself, let me assure you.

Let's just hope this "first" is also a "last."

I want my happy baby back.



(Many thanks to Grandma and Grandpa for helping both of us feel better)

Busting Out the Domesticity...

I feel I have reached the age where "neighbor gifts" have become an essential part of the holiday routine. We've always been on the receiving end of said gifts, and this year I committed to paying it forward.

The only hurdle standing in my way: I have not a single creative bone in my body.

Luckily, I happen to make a mean Snickerdoodle. And thanks to the Dollar Store, I had a way to jazz up the presentation.




Now that I think about it, I'm sure my neighbors would have preferred a heaping helping of this:



Seriously, we have extra.

Solids...

My child has always had the appetite of an Olympic athlete, which means her 24-hour-buffet (me) rarely gets a break.

I mean, I love nursing and all, but I would like to be able to keep my shirt down for more than an hour at a time.

Anyway, I've been anticipating the four month mark for one reason, and one reason alone:



I've been sneaking her tastes of ketchup, jam, ice cream, even Sour Patch Kids (which she sucked completely dry). I decided that if I want to keep my baby, I better start sticking to the guidelines outlined in What to Expect in the First Year.

Thus, the disgusting rice cereal.

I even bought some snazzy spoons to go with it.

As you can see in the above photo, I misread the instructions on the box and mixed one tablespoon of water with 4 tablespoons of the nasty rice powder. Needless to say, it didn't look quite right. My mother found my mishap hilarious, and I sheepishly added more water to make enough rice cereal for our entire extended family. Anyone hungry?

Before feeding the goo to my child, I decided it was only fair I try it too.



(Please forgive the post-workout glow)

It was, in short, disgusting. It tasted like formula smells, which in my opinion is just plain nasty.

Lola, however, had a different take.




The kid really will take food in whatever form it comes. She probably would have gobbled the entire bowl if Dad hadn't intervened (Jessica! What if it clogs her up!).

One of the best things about this whole "having a kid" thing is the "trying new things for the first time" thing.

It's hilarious to observe, I'll tell you that much.

Clarification:

I'm not pregnant. That 17 weeks picture was from my Lola pregnancy.

The end.

17...

17 Weeks:



(Roughly) 17 weeks: