Aloha!

We just got back from a really wonderful trip to Hawaii. We stayed on the island of Kauai, which is my favorite because it's like Colorado in Hawaii. You have mountains, canyons, and lots of outdoorsy things to do, plus gorgeous beaches and weather to die for. There's too much to write about here, so I'm just gonna let the pictures do most of the talking.

Halloween!

This was Cormac's first year trick-or-treating. Last year, we walked around and looked at the decorations and costumes in our neighborhood, but we didn't do any trick-or-treating because no one in the house needed any candy. Not that anyone needed any candy this year, but we figured Cormac would actually understand the concept of trick-or-treating, and he might even have fun.

I originally planned to do maybe five houses, because that's how long I thought Cormac's attention span would last, but he quickly made it clear that we would be doing as many houses as possible, thank you very much. At first, he was a bit reluctant to go up to someone's door and say, "Trick-or-treat!" The first attempt involved a lot of "No." But then when he got that first piece of candy, something clicked in his brain, and he was hooked. We heard a lot of "Again!" after that.

The only slight problem was that he kept trying to go in people's houses. I had to go in after him a few times. Apparently if someone gives you candy, that means you can walk right on into their house. We're probably gonna have to work on that, otherwise this kid is gonna get himself abducted.

I wasn't able to take any pictures on Halloween night, because Cormac was waaaaay too excited by all the costumes and decorations and pumpkins and candy candy candy to be bothered to hold still for a picture. But he put on his costume the next day so I was able to snap a few. He even humored me by pretending to fly around the porch.

Happy Autumn!

Today was the last day of the farmers' market in our neighborhood, which meant that it was also the day of the annual pumpkin patch. Every time you spend a certain amount at each of the vendors' tents, you get tickets, and then you use those tickets to "buy" pumpkins. We got a few with our breakfast of biscuits and gravy from the biscuit bus, and then one more because Fozzy decided he/she wanted a cinnamon roll. We got two from Gramps, and a very nice lady gave us two more because she decided Cormac looked like he needed some pumpkins (even though he had his finger up his nose at the time. Or perhaps because of it).

Here are some pictures of our morning:

A Little Taste Of Our Day

I set Cormac's breakfast plate down in front of him this morning.

Cormac: Mud!

Me: That's peanut butter toast, buddy.

Cormac: Mud!

Me: I like the way you think, though.

***

Other than the peanut butter toast for breakfast, Cormac's menu for the day revolved around cheese. I really didn't intend for it to be that way, but it's just sort of how the day's meals turned out. Snack was a piece of string cheese eaten on our way to the zoo. Lunch was a grilled cheese sandwich at the zoo. Grilled cheese is my go-to meal for Cormac when we're out and about because I know he'll eat it even though he may be distracted by Birds flying! or Bee bzzzz! or Baby crying! At this point, it did occur to me that there had already been a lot of cheese involved in the day, but there was still a lot of time left to add some other food groups.

His afternoon snack was part of a graham cracker, so that was good, but then dinner was cauliflower smothered in......cheese. Cormac gobbled it right up, which I found interesting because I've made roasted cauliflower a few times lately (we have a plethora of cauliflower these days thanks to our CSA), and Cormac doesn't seem to be a fan. Personally, I think roasting is just about one of the most delicious things one can do with cauliflower, but apparently Cormac doesn't agree with me. You should try it though; just toss cauliflower florets with olive oil and sea salt and roast at 425 degrees until it starts to turn golden. The best part is the little crispy bits.

I feel like I should have a problem with all the cheese consumed today, but I really don't. Cheese has protein and calcium. And, hey, it got Cormac to eat cauliflower. Plus, cheese is delicious. We should all eat more cheese.

Alarm Clock

We recently switched Cormac out of his crib and into a twin bed. Not necessarily because he was ready, but because Babies R Us was having a trade-in sale for cribs (bring your old, used one in, and we'll give you 25% off a new one). And since our old crib was apparently a death trap (read: dropside crib), we decided to take advantage of the sale. I mean, Cormac survived, but he's scrappy and has no fear. And he slept with us for the first six months of his life, which is likely what this next baby is going to do anyway, but still. Death Trap.

The transition was fairly smooth, especially considering that we did absolutely no prep work beforehand. Mostly it was, "Oh! Look! A big-boy bed!" And when Cormac discovered that he could jump around more wildly on this one, he never looked back.

The first few mornings, he didn't realize that he wasn't confined to his bed, and would lay there and moan until we came to get him. But then a little light went on in his head, and at 6:30 one morning we heard: click, pitter-patter-pitter-patter, "Oh wow! Hi, Momma! Hi, Daddy!" I'm not sure why the realization of freedom had to coincide with an hour-earlier wake up time, but sometimes the universe is cruel that way.

Then one night I had gotten up to pee for the third time, when I thought I heard a little voice outside our room. I looked out in the hallway, but there was no one there. A glance toward Cormac's room told me his door was open and his room was empty. Huh. And then I heard the sound of little feet on hardwood floor, and I realized that Cormac had gone downstairs. By himself. At 2:00 in the morning.

I came downstairs to find him holding his stuffed rabbit while looking at a book and drinking some water. Like you do at 2:00 am. It took awhile to convince him that it was, in fact, night-night time, but eventually he went back to sleep in his big-boy bed, and I went back to sleep in my pillow-infested bed. Only to be woken up at 6:30 am by, "HI!"

We are currently reconfiguring the baby gate layout.

Exploding Heads

Yowza. We have been busy.

When I was little, my dad was a Certified Public Accountant who did other people's taxes. This meant that for the entire month of March and half of April, we didn't see him. Literally. September is kind of like that for Chris; it's his tax season. The membership year at his tennis club begins October 1, so September is filled with trying to get people to renew their memberships by appreciating them with Member Appreciation Month, which basically means that he works at least 70 hours every week.

Meanwhile, I struggle to be both a part time Registered Nurse and a full time Mom/Housekeeper/Cook/Incubator. What this means in layman's terms is that I am treading water while slowly being carried out to sea. A sea of guitars, stuffed monkeys, dump trucks, and blocks, with a little dirty laundry and a lot of dog hair mixed in. Plus, for some reason I had the fabulous idea to pick up some extra shifts at work. It always seems like a good idea at the time, and then when those extra days roll around, I'm like, "What the hell was I thinking?" Extra money is NOT worth it. Well, it's kind of worth it, but it would be a lot easier if someone would just give me that extra money for free.

I am sure other mothers handle this much better than I do. But all I can do is grit my teeth and tell myself that maybe I'll get to sleep in October.

10 more days...

Trudging Through Mud

I promise that I meant to post more often. But, well, obviously that's not happening. I'm just so freaking tired; this pregnancy is really taking it out of me. And now that I'm in the second trimester, it's gotten better, so that's really saying something about how tired I was before. It was like everyday I did a full Ironman, retiled the bathroom, chased a half-naked monkey-child around the house, and wrestled a giant squid into leather pants. Only one of those actually happened. I'll let you guess which one.

Like I said, it's gotten better (sometimes I don't even need a nap during the day!), but by the time I put Cormac to bed, all I want to do is collapse on the couch, shovel some Ben & Jerry's into my mouth, and watch HGTV. It's not so much the physical exhaustion as the mental exhaustion. I can't even think anymore. Like, I have trouble remembering the English language: is it unproductive or nonproductive? That's a real example from this morning. I've thought about posting, but I always end up deciding that it would take waaaay too much energy to type, much less use proper grammar.

I also feel like I have a pretty darned good excuse for not posting for the last two weeks, at least. I woke up one friday morning at 2 am with excruciating tooth pain, while we happened to be camping. And while I'm on the subject of camping, let me just say that camping while pregnant is not something I'd really recommend. Don't get me wrong, I love camping. I just don't love getting up 2-3 times in the middle of the night to stumble through the forest, drop trou, and try not to pee on my shoes. Anyway, the tooth pain. It was bad. And of course it happened on a Friday, so I got to deal with it all weekend, with nothing to do about it but take Tylenol. Which is a placebo drug, but the way. Pure sugar.

Basically, my tooth had gotten infected and required a root canal. Everybody cringes when you tell them you have to have a root canal. And it does sound pretty intimidating. But I've got to say, it's really just a huge filling that requires several looooong drills. And it wouldn't have been all that bad, except that the local anesthetic wore off halfway through the procedure. Yeah. I would give birth any day before doing that again.

It doesn't end there, though. I thought the root canal would solve the pain problems, but the pain just kept getting worse. It had turned into an almighty sinus infection. So two days after having an inch-long piece of metal all up in my tooth's business (a week after all the pain started in the first place), I said, "BRING ON THE DRUGS!" I filled the prescriptions for percocet and penicillin that had been sitting in my purse for 5 days. And I have to say, I still felt really bad about taking them. I had been avoiding any pills (besides my placebo pills) because I didn't want the baby to have anything unnecessary, especially narcotics. But it had gotten to the point where I couldn't actually function. I couldn't even eat. I felt like it was a lose-lose situation, but the benefits finally outweighed the risks for me. Hopefully I didn't screw up this kid too much yet.

I have now emerged on the other side of The Great Tooth-scapade, and I'm sorry to say that I'm not better for it. It did not build any character. Mostly it just made me crabby.

My brain has now turned into complete mush, and I can't write anything else coherent. Also, I still haven't found the camera.