Almost Forty

Does thirty-nine ever get any respect as an age? I mean, really: it's the gateway to 40. You are now teetering on the edge of no longer being able to claim that you are in your thirties. There's a whole other decade on the other side of the next 365/366.

And it looks like a long way down.

Me: the early days.

On my 1st birthday.

Don't worry, it's not your eyes - the photos are blurry. My mom, she's not so good with the photographic equipment.
That's my older sister to the left and me on the right. I've no idea who the boy is. Perhaps one of my billion cousins?
A very new me. Not a flattering photo at all, but would you look at that doll?! I'm terrified just looking at it! And do I ever have a lot of hair!
Dawn shares her lollipop with me. She was a good big sister that way. Note naked baby doll in background. I think it's following me.
Mom makes the best cakes, even waaaaay back then. Notice how carefully she cut a slice for me that I am busy smashing into my own face? Excellent! Dawn looks ready to snag the remaining partly mashed piece from my plate, even though she's got a bigger piece on her own plate.

You know, she looks kinda like Logan there. Or rather, Logan looks rather like she does.
Bathing beauties. Maybe it's just me, but did wading pools used to be really small and then got bigger over time? This one is barely covering our ankles and it's not like we're giants or anything. Although these days I practically tower over Dawn with my extra 4 inches. Heh heh heh!

Yup, that's my mom. If anyone wonders where the looks come from in our family, well all point collectively at her. (Sorry dad!)

So let's see: thirty-nine years and what do I have to show for it?

One of these:
One of these:
One of these:
Oh and one of these, making all of the three previous items possible:
And a pair of these:

Add in a few thousand plants, dozens of friends and relatives and that may be as good as it gets.

Not too shabby.

If only there were cake!

And naps. Definitely would like a few more naps.

Happy birthday to meeee! Zzzzzz!

Twenty Four Weeks

Just a quick update for all of you baby fans out there. I should be sleeping.

For those of you counting, the twins are now 5 and a half months old. Not exactly a big change from last week, although both of them being sick at the same time is a big change: not for the better. They're both doing better than I was and neither actually got the flu, thank goodness! However they are both filled to the brim and overflowing with boogies. Bleah. Emma has a very sad little wet cough, which makes her cry kind of gurgly. Neither one is feverish and I think they're both throwing off their colds since Emma, at least, has started sleeping through the night again. Yay Emma!

Emma: "Logan, you know what? Mommy's going to get me a pony since I sleep through the night."

Logan: [Gasps.] "Mommy! Is this true?!"
Me: "Uhhhh...nuh-no. Err...not really? Umm...maybe? Wait. What was the question?"

Emma: "A pony. It can live under my crib."
Logan: [In the background.] "Waaaaaah!"

Emma: "My work here is done."

Where was I?

Yes. So! They like to hang out together a lot more and only occasionally will they pitch a fit over the other one tearing a toy out of their hand and/or mouth. You have to be careful how close together you place them because they get very excited and will grab at each other's face. Ow! They're still practicing sitting up, but still slip and fall over and go bonk. Emma is still crawling backwards and getting frustrated, but she also does cute little pushups when she's excited about something. Unfortunately, I have very few photos this week due to the glassy-eyed experience that is a 105 degree fever.

Interestingly enough, the cats seem to like the babies. They're at least-ways not afraid of them and you will even catch my scaredy cat, Kaboom, hanging out right next to them.

Kaboom sits well within baby grabbing range. He almost seems to...like it!

It's a funny thing, after he's spent all of these months living under our bed that he now shows up to get petted by the wee ones. Both of the twins get all excited when they see the cats go wandering by and if they come close enough, either baby will reach out a pudgy little hand and pet/grab a fistful of kitty. Fortunately for all involved, the kitties seem totally OK with this course of events. We're working on teaching how to pet softly and gently, but excitement turns open hands into tiny claws of cat clenching fur removal units. Not that we don't have enough fur floating around already, mind you.

I have also seen one or the other baby attempt to put a cat in their mouth.

It was a novel concept: to see cats covered in people spit. At least they don't appear to be allergic!

Well it's time to hie me off to bed. This time I shall leave you with this face to ponder.

Little boy blue. Someone needs some cheek squeezin'!

Logan: "Mommy? Can't I have a pony, too?"
Me: "Can't...resist...eyes!"

Chocolate Milk Is Not a Decongestant

And other things You Need To Know.

Thanks to your well wishes and $24 worth of pills (so far), I feel way better than yesterday. Yesterday I felt like I was wrapped in heavy wool. Not scratchy, though, so perhaps cotton would be a better description. Only, not cotton like sheets (300 count is very nice), more like the cotton they stick in bottles of pills. Why do they do that?

I'm feeling loopy. Not even a fun kind of Whee! Good cough medicine! kind of loopy, either.

So we went out to dinner tonight.

What can I tell you? My decision making is shot and when Eric and Caitlin both said they wanted to go, I didn't have any braincells left to rub together to say, "Uh, no thanks! I can't taste anything other than sweet, salty, sour, acid and cardboard, so going out to dinner will be completely wasted on me. Let's not!" But did I say that? No. Couldn't. Had a feeling there was a reason why I didn't want to go (other than the fact that, oh I don't know, I've got the influenza virus wreaking havoc with my system) but I couldn't get the words out. I'm still foggy, but doing a lot better.

So we went out to dinner. Emma was awake and complained about being left in her car seat. I pulled her out and sat her on my lap and she immediately turned into an octopus. There were arms everywhere, I swear! Grabbing for napkins, knives and forks, water glasses, and the plate my hot chocolate came on (I can pretend I can taste chocolate. Orange juice tastes like battery acid. Even water tastes funny and toothpaste tastes horrible.). Once she had hold of it, she did what comes naturally to babies: she shoved it in her mouth.

Caitlin, upon seeing Emma ingesting a plate as big as her head made the unfortunate mistake of laughing while drinking chocolate milk. The chocolate milk came shooting out her nose.

Now I know that commentors are forever saying (on other blogs, not mine, I'm just not that funny I guess) that the author has made them laugh so hard that they sprayed coffee/coke/water/other bodily fluids out of their noses and onto their keyboards and screens and I never knew whether to believe them or not. After having seen what happened to Caitlin, I've gotta tell ya, if you can actually make distance to reach your keyboard/screen? Then you must be laughing really damned hard. You oughtta be careful out there: you could bust a gut. Fortunately for all of us at the table, Baby Octopus included, Caitlin didn't make any distance at all but did look very surprised.

My dinner, lobster ravioli (Which tasted like...? Salt.), will be hibernating in my freezer until my sense of taste returns, because to not taste that?

Is just sickening.

Wordless Wednesday IV

We'll always have Venice.
May 8th, 2006

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Italy is beautiful in the spring

I'm phoning this one in, both because I'm sick and because I never actually finished processing all of the photos I took while I was there. Writing about it here gives me that opportunity.

Two years ago, Eric and I celebrated our 10th anniversary (For our 11th, we went to Vancouver. There are lots of pictures spread across our 5 day trip, if you're interested.). When we were married, we went to Italy for our honeymoon and loved it. We promised ourselves that we would return, come hell or high water on our 10th anniversary. We almost didn't go due to timing and finances, but Eric decided that it was worth more to us to go than it was to stay and not spend the money. So off we went.

Apparently friends of mine had been making bets as to how many pictures I was going to take, because when I mentioned 523, Christine said she lost.

Originally emailed 5/15/06:
Well, what's funny is that if you voted for more pictures, I would have taken more except for one tiny little problem:

Almost every single bloody museum and cathedral no longer allows any photography!

Ten years ago (ahem!) they would allow photography, but without flash. The idea was that the actinic flare from the flashes would damage (or "age") the paintings. Now, it appears that with digital cameras being so ubiquitous and able to go up to 3200 ISO (in many cases), they appear to be more afraid of losing your shopping dollars. What need would you have for purchasing the museum's BOOK if you took fantastic pics of your own?

To say that I was put out would be putting it mildly. To say I was pissed would be a lot closer. Then, to add insult to injury, there are ALWAYS some turistas that insist on photographing stuff anyway and then I feel bad about being law-abiding! So the piddly 523 images I shot were mostly of outdoor scenes. They let you take pictures of the view from inside the buildings, which in many cases was quite a nice view.

I so wanted to show you all how utterly cool so much of the art is and the fantastic murals on the walls and the floors and such, ma no (but no!)! Idiota! So you (and I) will just have to make do with the few shots I DID get. You won't be too sad, will you?

Leaving the US and daylight behind.

Our room in Venice at the Hotel Rialto.

Yes, it was definitely pink. Oy!

The view from voi finestra (our window). Fantastic, no? Why yes, that Rialto!

Well...e abbanstanza per adesso (that's enough for now)!

Ciao!

Songs of Sickness

Influenza B
What are you doing to me?
Eight dollars a pill?!

Next year get the shot,
Can't be any worse than this.
Fever. Chills. Mommy?

Misery 1, Hatchet 0

Guess who's sick now? Go on! Guess!

If you guessed me, you'd be correct!

Why I don't just dance through the spray Caitlin leaves behind as she sneezes and just get it over with, I'll never know. No! Instead, I spend days being just fine and going about life as normal and each time I think: "Hah! I'm not getting sick!"

Then, just after Eric has given in to the Germ Parade and is in recovery mode, that's when my body gives out. Apparently, it really wants to share in the fun that can only be experienced by being just as sick as everyone else. I'm empathetic! Really! I'd prefer to just watch the illness happen, rather than participate. Is that so wrong?!

The "best" part about being feverish and sick? The fact that since I'm nursing it means I never have a chance to be on my own and wallow in my illness. Everyone else gets to go to their room and sleep it off, but I'm still on duty. The Milk Bar is open 24/7 around here, no matter how horrible I feel.

And lemme tell ya: I feel horrible.

If this is somewhat what it's like to have arthritis, I'd like to put in a request to skip that part of aging, thanks! What sort of evolutionary purpose does it serve, anyway, to wander around feeling like you've been beaten with sticks across every joint you have while ill?

And if I have a fever, why am I in turn both freezing cold and burningly hot? Hmm? Why?

*whimper*

Well, as they say, the Family that is Sick Together, Sticks Together.

They say that, don't they? Well, they should.

*cough, cough, hack!*

Updated to add: turns out that I'm running a temperature closing in on 105 degrees. I guess I'll be going to the doctor tomorrow, assuming I don't spontaneously comb--

Weekly Winners II

Logan is all thumbs.

Caitlin does homework without whining Yay!.

Emma's smile ignites for Daddy.

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2 out of 3 children say: Ah-choo!

Welcome to Hatchet's House of Suck! Where you, too, can get a 100+ degree fever and hang out!

Logan is sick. We noticed right away last night when he didn't let us sleep AT ALL. And felt pretty warm. He was like a little hot water bottle baby. Mmm. Warm!

What is it with kids getting sick at night and on the weekends?

His burning desire to see the inside of an emergency clinic was thwarted by early morning hours at our pediatrician's office and because he never spiked a temperature over 101.5. Clearly his puny efforts (100.4) weren't enough.

Logan however, thinks he's dying. He has a Man Cold.


He even started planning out his tiny will.

"I wants to be berrid wif mah blankie an' mah yewwow puppy and sum chew toys. Like a Pharoah Kingy-thingy. I coulda been A KING! Cut down in mah yoof. Dis a tragiddy of epic 'portions!"

Emma failed to be sympathetic. "Whatchu 'plainin' 'bout? I gotted a cold when Ah was only a week old! Dis is nuffinks!"

Logan, in between moaning and slamming his head into my collarbone, cut her out of his will, "Jus' for dat you get nuffinks! Nuffinks for you! I take all my toys wif me! An' you be sorry when I all gone." Cough cough. Moan.

"I sorry. You mus' be really sick." Pat, pat, pat. "Ya big baby."

Twenty Three Weeks

Naps are good, are they not? They are a wonderful thing, especially when taken by small children that live with you.

However...

You knew there'd be a catch, didn't you?

However, when you have twins there's the slightest, eensy weensiest possibility that they won't nap at the same time. As in, concurrently. Mine, while they are napping (for which I am eternally grateful), they are not on the same schedule. If you follow the clues for one:

Logan tells us he needs a nap.

and put both down to sleep, the tired one will go "Ehn! Ehn!" and then pass out. The more awake one will complain loudly that they are still awake and just what do you think you're doing leaving them all alone in this crib when there's stuff to do/see/chew on?! That will go on for half an hour until either a) they pass out because they've used up all the air in the room or b) they escalate the screaming and you get sick of it and go get them. Generally, this means that you have one baby sleeping and one awake until they swap positions.

Any which way you look at it, you're never without a baby.

Le sigh!

It's been a big week for toe action around here. Chewing on them.

Emma likes her toes.

Logan likes Emma's toes, too.

Grabbing them.

Dude! I've got toes!

Grabbing and chewing.

Baby folds flat for easy storage!
Babies: cute and portable! Who knew?!

The other digits got jealous, so Logan thought he'd give one of them equal time.

Logan is all thumbs.

The twins like to play a lot these days. One of the things they really like is to be turned upside-down.

Whee! Head rush!

This is fine, normally, but not so great when they fling themselves backwards in your arms. There is always the possibility that you'll lose your grip and off they'll go! on a one way trip to discovering gravity and stitches. Kinda makes holding a baby a little more active than just sitting there with your arm loosely curled around them while typing one handed. They're sneaky, too. Just when you think you can relax your vigilance: POW! someone small, with a very hard head, flings themselves backwards and smashes you in the breastbone.

Not that I know anything about bruised breastbones or anything. Except, you know: OW.

Interestingly on the solid food front, Logan has decided that he's done experimenting with solid food for awhile and maybe it wasn't so great, actually.

Emma, on the other hand, has finally changed her mind.

Hey! What is this stuff?!

Ooo! Sweet potato!

I think I love sweet potato! Lemme have some more!

Last night she had her very first helping of solid food that she actually ate instead of tasting, screwing up her face and letting dribble out. She's not as talented at eating as Logan is, but she's working on it.

Logan's foods:

• Banana
• Brown rice cereal
• Acorn squash ("Bleah!" says Logan)
• Apple sauce ("Neh!" says Logan)
• Sweet potato - just a taste ("Neh!" says Logan)

Emma's foods:

• Sweet potato

Emma is also very good a helping Caitlin with her homework.

Caitlin does homework.

Hmm.

Well...she's more of a consultant instead of a Homework Helper. Any questions related to breastfeeding get referred to her. Unfortunately, the subject hasn't come up in class yet.

Before you go, Emma has something for you.

Emma reminds me why we don't sell her for glue.

You know, in case you need a little pick me up.

You Have My Sympathy

Now stop whining.

Caitlin is sick. Yes, again. Yes, the child that doesn't normally get sick, is sick. Twice in two weeks. Running a fever.

She was out all last week and seemed a lot better over the weekend, so we sent her in on Monday. After much whining and complaining about having to return to school and getting dressed and the usual, off she went. Eric hadn't even returned yet from dropping her off before the school called to say she was in the sick room complaining that she didn't feel well. Cruel as I am, certain she was faking it, I asked them to check her temperature which came back normal.

So I made her stay, of course.

Then?

An hour later they called back and she had a 101 degree fever. Le sigh!

So I sent Eric to go get her again.

Today, after several days of a low level fever (they won't let her back in school until she's normal again) and not acting sick at all, her fever has spiked to 103. I insisted Eric take her into the doctor, which he didn't want to do all last week (In Eric's defense, her fever last week never made it over 101 and the doctor laughed when we mentioned it - they don't want to see her until she's really sick.). Finally, after listening to her whine this morning about how she couldn't drink the tea he made her (Too hot! Blow on it! It's TOO HOT! Just blow -- Whiiiiiiine! Argh!) or eat the breakfast he made for her (I'm hungry! Here, eat this. I can't eat that! Why not? I don't feel well! My stomach hurts! That's because you're hungry. Eat. Nooooo! I caaaaaaan't! I don't feeeeeeeel good! Argh!) or put a sweater on (I'm cold! Put on a sweater. Noooo! I'm already wearing a long sleeved shirt! I don't want to get hot! What?! Just put on a --- Waaaaaah! Argh!), we sent her back to bed again.

The whining intensified.

The actual word WAH was employed. The melodrama! The Waaaah-ing. The whining. The making sure we could hear how utterly miserable she was just existing was in play. Yea verily, Death was nigh. The incredible inability to shut her door so that she wouldn't wake up the sleeping baby was driving me crazy and ended in me grinding my teeth in frustration.

I shouldn't be mad at her: she's sick!

But...!

But I don't think it's possible that I could feel less sympathetic to a sick child.

Eric has taken her in to see the doctor. Both of the twins are napping (Yay for naps! Yay for nubbly blankets from Grammy! Holy moly those things are great!) and I am all alone in a quiet house. For the moment.

Is there time for tea?

There has to be time for tea.

Updated to add: The Flu. She has the Flu. As in actual influenza. She's never had it before and hey! Did you know that there's a drug they can give you to knock it out if you take the drug within 48 hours? Yeah! Except we're past 48 hours. Now we have to keep Caitlin from "shedding the virus" all over us and the twins. Oh man!

On the bright side, Caitlin feels better after receiving sympathy from the doctor.

And some chicken broth.

Growing Challenge: Seedlings

We've got some of this going on:

Snow in March

Which means there's no gardening to be had outside. Fortunately, I'm inside so there's plenty to do. Especially if I can scrape off a twin or two. Errr...put them down for a nap, that is. Actually, the napping thing is working out pretty well, except that they aren't in synch. At all. Oh well. I guess that's next on the list of Things To Do.

Meanwhile, here's some green in the middle of winter to ogle (Doesn't that look like it's spelled incorrectly? It's not.).

Did I mention that I've joined the Growing Challenge? Melinda wants us to grow things we never have before. As a maniac person starting a brand new farming business with my friend H., pretty much everything is a new thing we've never grown before. Or at least not in these quantities! I have grown tomatoes and basil and hundreds of flowers before, but never as many as I will this year, from seed. Certainly not this many different varieties of the same things, either.

Sixteen varieties of tomatoes.

A forest of tomatoes.

Eight varieties of basil. Dozens of different types of flowers and herbs and assorted other vegetables.

A "few" basils. Did you know they come in purple?

One of the hardest things about ordering seeds, especially in the depths of winter, is knowing when to stop. Apparently I haven't learned that trick yet.

Ooooh! Seeds.

The above is only a portion of my seed collection (Not pictured: my partner's seed collection.). If I get half of these planted this year I'll be happy. And inundated with plants. Whee!

Basils also come in different flavors. This is Cinnamon basil. Mmm...cinnamon!

Specifically new to me are these:

Purple tomatillos. For when all those tomatoes aren't enough....

I've never grown tomatillos (or rosemary, or melons, or pumpkins, or...) before. These are a purple heirloom variety from Seed Savers Exchange. They have so many fabulous looking seeds available online and even more if you join them. So many that they send you multi-hundred paged catalogs without pictures. That's a problem for me, no pictures, but I could probably live with it. Choosing something at random and giving it a whirl is fun, actually.

In case you were wondering, here's my growing rack:

Shoplights and shelving and soil, oh my!

This is the new one we put together in the living room. The old one is hiding a secret.

The ghost of Basils Past.

Uh oh.

Skeletons in my basement.

Yes, it really is that bad. Last summer I started hundreds of basils from seed but then got too darned pregnant to continue paying attention to them. No, I'm serious. It became too much exertion for me to go up and down stairs. So they died. And there they stayed, entombed within the basement library/plant nursery. Now it's time to clean them up because I need the rack space.

Goodbye sad little basil plants! I'll treat your successors better. Promise!

So, yeah! We're starting up a whole new adventure this year. Organically grown herbs, vegetables, flowers and possibly some fruit. My partner has about 12 acres of land available for our venture. I'm not even certain how much of that we'll put into production, but we'll figure it all out.

On the fly.

Really soon.

The market begins in exactly one month.

Oh and did I mention that we get to eat some portion of the huge amount we'll be growing for sale? Oh yeah! Tomatoes for every occasion, in every color. Also, I promised Caitlin that I'd grow a watermelon and a pumpkin for her. I've never done that before, either. Should be fun!

So I guess I'd better get growin'.

Next week: What lurks in my garage?

Wordless Wednesday III

Nap time.

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