I haven't posted in forever and a day due to an insanely hectic and stressful holiday season. The normal busy-ness of christmastime compounded with keeping up with a two year old and a newborn (adjusting to life with both and not just one has proved to be a challenge) and also trying to finish up the massive renovation/addition... Henry has been busy perusing the pages of Target's holiday toy catalogue... This time of year is so different when you are an adult with young kids. I am more excited to give Henry his presents than I am to receive any of my own. Ahh, to be a kid again... I refer to this toy catalogue as "Henry porn." The pages are well-worn. This is him before a nap. We finally got a tree and I was able to properly decorate for Christmas. (don't let all of those packages fool you... my mom brought over the presents she got us early, because she thought that it looked too 'bare' without them) I have been savoring my time with this little one too. She is so unbelievably sweet. I am just in love with her... I am trying to make the most of my days, as crazy as they are. trying to create a "handmade christmas" -----
and failing miserably. Loved ones who are expecting gifts: please, please, please excuse my major lameness this year. You know I'd give you the moon if I could. Unfortunately money is tight, and due to the fact that I haven't actually slept in a bed in over two and a half months, inspiration is running a little low. I'll make it up to you in the coming year, I promise. even though I haven't been able to do my dishes in the kitchen sink... I have been doing my dishes in the bathroom sink for the past month while waiting for our granite countertops to be cut and our plumber to connect our kitchen plumbing. I have enjoyed bathing some things in our new bathroom sink more than others.... I am just glad I talked Mike into getting the double sinks. Annie seems to enjoy them.... Annie is more than likely our last baby, and I am going to so miss the sweet and tiny perfection, the wonderful compactness that is an infant. Nothing in this world is quite as sweet and dear as a baby.... I will forever remember dancing Annie through her fussy evenings next to our tree from this year... and the feeling of watching Henry hang his first ornament, with his tiny, agile and determined hands. Merry Christmas, friends, and wishing you a happy, happy new year!
So the title of this blog has been bouncing around for forever and it is getting on my nerves. What the hell was I thinking with the whole 'starfish' business? A totally ridiculous name, really. I do have somewhat of a connection to the name; however not enough to live with it or like it any longer.
I have painted sporadically over the past sixteen or seventeen years or so, and it has always been a major passion of mine. It is a medium that I love and cannot live without. Work output has always been sporadic; some years there are months of work released at fever pitch; some years there are spells drier than the Atacama Desert.
Around eight years ago I began really dabbling with collage and instantly fell so in love with it. I ended up filling an entire book with collages, pages front and back. Last fall/winter my output was satisfactory, enough so that I decided I would open and etsy shop and begin offering some affordable prints for sale. Cassie designed a nice shop banner for me and I set up my account. Approximately a week later I began projectile vomiting around the clock (I became pregnant) and sort of lost my drive to be creative or enterprising.
Lately, even on no sleep, the stress of the big renovation, pushing another baby out of my vagina, dealing with a gregarious toddler, etc. the inspiration has been stirring. I can feel some more work coming and I just have to roll with it. I am officially changing the name of this blog to the name of my etsy shop, Paper Cut House. It will still be a blog mostly for me to look back on so I can remember what was up with me and Mike and the kids at a certain point in history. There will maybe still be some stuff for you, too. I'll announce here when the shop is up and running, but I'm shooting for late January.
The renovations continue, six months since we broke ground and still going strong. If someone had told me early summer that the house wouldn't be finished by Thanksgiving week, I never would have believed them. We are getting so close though. I will be so happy when I can wake up and know I can relax; that my house won't be full of people hammering, nailing, and sawing; that I won't have to get the kids out for damage control. Things are really shaping up- the master bathroom was finished this evening, and it is gorgeous if I may say so. It looks even more amazing than I ever envisioned that it would. Our kitchen will be transformed this week- new cabinets, new countertops. Another wall came down this week, and Mike and his dad removed everything down to the sub floor in preparation for tile to be installed. I can't wait to post pictures when it is all done. (really though, I just can't wait for it to be ALL DONE....)
What in the hell is this bull? Please don't tell me you people are loving this. Mineral washed jeans from American Apparel?!? It looks like what was popular when I was in the sixth grade, and subsequently what I wore. I was in love with my high wasted, tapered leg jeans, slouchy suede boots and denim jacket. I kept pins on the 'lapel' of my jacket. I insisted on sleeping in it. Cassie and I loved to make our moms take us to Foxmore's at the mall so they could buy us super fancy "brooches." We wore some really hideous crap back then. Painting wooden crap while wearing acid washed bubble skirts and whatnot (we liked to craft some ugly "country craft"-y poo. remember, this was 20 years ago. Hearts, sheep, ducks. cringe. The crafting was usually followed by Cassie correographing some intricate MC hammer dance for us to "perform" in her mauve bedroom. I'll tell you some other time about the 'booger wall'. Anyhow- I digress). But this just blows my mind, these acid washed jeans in '08. Do you guys remember how there used to be actual grit in the pockets of acid washed clothes, from the mineral wash process. I wonder if the American Apparel jeans come with the grit. Are you people buying this? Are 'hipster' nerds in nyc and at cobrasnake parties wearing this?
Colic update- I'm probably jinxing myself here, but- Annie hasn't cried uncontrollably late at night for the past three nights. Knock on wood it will continue this way. (post note- I must have jinxed myself. I started writing this yesterday afternoon and didn't finish it. And she did cry her head off last night....). There is a slight catch though- I have to hold her in my lap and basically keep her at my boobs from 8pm until 9am the next morning. And really, that is becoming a 24 hour thing. I sleep in the chair holding her, and then when I wake up I carry her around in the sling (I'll post at a later time about the New Native Carrier- so indispensable!). Some people might say it is my fault, because I am spoiling her, and setting a precedent... but whatever. She is just one of those "high needs babies." I also really don't believe you can spoil an infant. I think they should be held and loved as much as is humanly possible. I think she is having a growth spurt, which would explain her wanting to eat every hour. I've heard this referred to as "frequency days." It is wearing me out, but I feel like it is so worth it, that I wouldn't give it up for anything (the breastfeeding that is). So human pacifier I am momentarily...
Mike says that he thinks she looks like a grumpy old cab driver. When he gets home from work he asks her if she had any good fares that day. Not very nice.
I have struggled to update here lately- my fatigue has limited my brain's ability to... to... um, what was I saying? Chasing after a two year old and taking care of an infant has left little time to do much else except for those two things. Not to mention the construction that continues on our house. As I am typing there are people knocking down drywall, electricians drilling holes, and our tile guys cutting tile with a wet saw. Throw two kids in and a barking chihuahua. It is loud and raucous. Hopefully it will all be wrapped up by christmas. Perhaps then we can all breathe again. Mike keeps saying that we will laugh about all of this one day. hmmmm.
Annie is lovely and amazing. Despite the "colic" she seems to have developed. The first couple of weeks she was so sweet and docile, and never cried. By the third week she began what we referred to as her "witching hour" during which she would cry off and on inconsolably. This witching hour has extended to lasting three hours a night, at the least, and the crying has turned into shrill screaming. Henry was not always the easiest baby, but he never cried like this. Nobody can quite explain what 'colic' is, and everyone seems to have their own theory; but whatever it is, Annie fits the description to a 't'. Mike and I just sort of hand her back and forth, trying all combinations of swaddling, noise machine, rocking, loud shooshing, bouncing, swinging. Does anyone have experience dealing with this? The worst part of it is is that it happens between 9ishpm through 12:30 am. And then I still have to feed her every two and one half hours through the night. We are both so sleepy we walk around like zombies during the day. If any one has any colic tips we would so appreciate it. I told Mike- "don't worry, love. we'll laugh about this one day."
So. Tomorrow I am officially one week past my due date. According to my doctors my body just likes being pregnant too much; the environment too cozy, the little ones have no reason to leave. This is more than I can bare, however. Philosophically resistant to the idea of any sort of induction a week ago, I told them this morning to just get her out of there, even if they had to cut her out. Oh what a week overdue can do to one's convictions... Contractions woke me up at a quarter to five this morning and I am definitely making progress. If she doesn't come on her own this evening, I will be admitted to the hospital tomorrow early am to begin the induction process. Tonight is a full moon- maybe that will bring her out. My little wolf baby.
She is a good girl though, waiting until we were able to get somewhat settled into the new part of the house. I made it through a week at the inlaws; the new hardwood floors are beautiful. Our wonderful families helped us empty the pod yesterday, so we are all moved back in. We were able to sleep in our new room last night; it is so nice and strange to have all of this extra room now. Another few weeks and we should have our loose ends tied up and be settled in with the baby.
Thanks for the warm wishes via email and phone messages (Julie, love ya) and we'll let you know when Annie arrives. I'm hoping she will be outside of my body by this time tomorrow. Stockley Gardens is this weekend, and I hate missing that...
a picture of Annie and me, 10/06- The bags and boxes have been packed; our house is empty now so that the hardwood floors can be done and the addition can be sort of finished (Mike talked me into it, much to my dismay). I have a doctor's appointment this morning- Annie is due tomorrow; we shall see. Last night I felt very, um, vomit-ous, but it may have just been from moving everything out of my house while nine months pregnant (really, ten months). This will probably be my last post for awhile, unless she is two weeks overdue as Henry was. Au Revoir for now, friends.
1. Last weekend was my fifth wedding anniversary. These have been the very best five years of my life, easily. It probably has something to do with the fact that Mike D. makes me happier than anyone else on this earth. He has the best attitude towards life and it keeps me in check. He helps me to see the bigger picture. He doesn't care what others think and is the most honest and caring person. He doesn't dwell on the negative, doesn't ever complain or feel sorry for himself, and can always be counted upon to 'do the right thing'. Before I met him I was up and down and broody all of the time. He keeps me consistent. He always gives me the most perfect, unconditional love. Michael is someone who really knows how to live, and I'm so glad we get to live this life together. He is the coolest dude I know and makes me laugh. He helps me to not be so serious. Mike- I love to love to love you...
2. We have walls!
The sheet rock/ drywall has been hung and sanded, the painting has commenced. The days do not cease to be crazy. Today started with a delivery of the wood for our new hardwood floors at 7:50 am and continued with the guy doing the under-tile work in our shower, Mike's dad doing odd-jobs, my parents helping with painting, my plumber, hvac, and electrician all doing their thing, and the sheetrockers finishing sanding. All of this and signing checks and chasing after a two year old with plaster dust everywhere and making lunch for everyone and... I'm ready to check into a spa. Or a sanatorium.
3. The baby. She is due in about six days. Unfortunately my doctor will not be on call this Saturday or next week after Wednesday through the weekend. They are giving me the option of induction, but I really hate that idea. I had to be induced with Henry as he was two weeks overdue, and I have to say I'd avoid that again if I could. It is a longer, more tiring and more painful birth process. I was looking forward to going into labor naturally and unfettered by an IV drip of vile Pitocin. Also, Mike talked me in to having all of the wood floors in the house refinished when they lay the new- which means we have to Move Out Of Our House Completely by this Sunday, two days before I'm due. I have to pack up a Pod this week with all of our belongings so that we can go live with my inlaws for a week right in the midst of giving birth. I am not completely happy with any of this. I have never muttered 'serenity now' so many times under my breath. Mike keeps reminding me that it didn't work for Frank Costanza. Oh yeah.
Did I mention that I think we finally decided on a name for our dear little soon to arrive daughter?
We have been struggling with what to name her. We struggled the same way when I was pregnant with Henry. A growing list of names, deciding on one finally, and then changing our minds quickly. It is the sort of thing that is not to be taken lightly, this naming of another human being. As with Henry, I just knew that I would know when we had found the right name for our little girl.
It is hard to find names that sound nice with our very long, very Italian and hard to pronounce last name. We like old names, but we don't want to choose something too popular. I always enjoyed having a name that was different. There was only one other Marissa I encountered growing up, and she spelled her name differently and didn't even go to my school. The old names we like are so popular now; I am sure our daughter will have multiple Isabelle's, Ava's, Sophia's and Hannah's in her kindergarten class. We settled on Alice for a little while- I liked the Alice in Wonderland reference, and it sounded so nice with Henry, another name requisite. After a few weeks of sitting with 'Alice' something about it changed. It just didn't sound right somehow. That is when I went back to our very first name we liked- 'Annie.'
1) My favorite doctor in the world is Dr. Annie Williams. She is the person who delivered Henry. She has delivered hundreds and hundreds of babies throughout her career, and yet she acts like each baby is her first. I swear she even had a tear the first time she held Henry. She always has a bright red manicure and is full of the most wonderful and complete seeming joy and gusto, if you will, for life. If this is an example of an Annie, then that sounds good to me.
2) When I was a little kid I was also obsessed with the movie "Annie." I watched it a million times growing up. In the third grade I convinced my mom to let me cut my long brown hair short and get a perm. Both. At the same time. Needless to say, this jump-started the beginning of a painfully long and yucky awkward stage. I would never have pulled off that Annie look unless I had dyed my hair a carrot-ish shade of orange-y red and wore an apple-red dress all of the time. But man did I love that zany orphan.
3) Woody Allen, one of my most favorite directors of all time made 'Annie Hall' one of my most favorite films of all time. I love Annie Hall and all of her endearingly silly quircks.
Still going back and forth between Alice and Annie I had sort of a bizarre experience that clinched the deal. I was down at the city building permit office and met the nicest woman. She was flirting with Henry while I met with the framing/foundation supervisor. When I had to pay for a plan revision, she was the one who helped me. We started chatting about babies and whatnot. She said she had decided not to have any more children after her first was born many, many years ago; but that much later she and her husband became foster parents to a little boy no one wanted. He was a severely autistic child who had basically been left in a room alone, completely feral, by his birth parents. Ignored and unloved, he was six but acted more like a one year old, unable to talk or interact with others. She went on to tell me that the state didn't want to allow her to adopt him because she was a black woman and he was a white child, but eventually the adoption went through because no one else would have him, she fought the system so hard, and he had thrived so much under her care. This story was so moving that it nearly made me cry. I didn't know what else to say to her except she was a great example of how all people should be. She said that he has been her son for seven years now, and that he is able to talk and interact fairly well with others, and that she wouldn't trade him for the world.
As I turned to leave she called out 'oh yeah, what's the name of that baby in your tummy?'. I told her I wasn't sure yet, but we thought 'Annie'. She just looked back at me and smiled and slowly turned her nameplate around on her desk- her name was Annie. She said "See, it was meant to be- you and I were supposed to talk today!" My pregnant hormones kicked in and I started to cry as she came around to hug me. It was wierd, unexplainable, and a tad embarrassing to be crying in the city building office with all of the gruff contractors around. But it felt like it was meant to be in this utterly weird inexplicable way, just the same as Annie feels so, so much to me like she was so completely meant to be...
This is the scene I returned home to this evening:
The back wall of the house is down, and the old part sort of resembles a doll-house, with its cut-out openings. It makes me think of 'Being John Malkovich'.... I half expect to see John Cusack's character standing above our house, dangling one of his marionette dolls next to our dining room table. I guess there's no turning back now. p.s. like my pink hard hat? a present from Michael.
Last Saturday my little guy turned two. We tried so hard in the midst of the current chaos that has become our lives to just have a relaxed day full of fun Henry things to celebrate. We only went to Home Depot once on Saturday. And once on Sunday. The poor guy is probably as sick of looking at lighting fixtures, plumbing materials, and refrigerators as I am. I thought it would be so excellent to get to pick all of these things out, but you reach a point where all of the features start blending together and you just pick something to be done with it, already. I'm sure being REALLY pregnant has something to do with feeling so over it. I desperately want to nest- to clean and organize and prepare. But I just can't do it properly with everything so... half- done. We finally settled on a refrigerator and purchased it. I know this sounds as exciting as drying a head of lettuce, but it was, because you have no idea how many refrigerators we looked at over the course of the summer. Yes, I am now that asshole who is writing about her new refrigerator on her blog.
Anyhow. We went to the zoo. I love being a member, because we go regularly enough that there is no pressure to see the entire park. Henry is always cool with a quick visit because he knows we'll soon return. Some days we go just to see the monkeys. Other days we just watch the turtles and walk around the butterfly garden. Lately Henry has wanted to go just to see the progress of construction on the new exhibit being built. I am fine with just watching the cranes and bulldozers. We followed our trip to the zoo with lunch at Doumar's, Henry's favorite lunch spot. I swear, we can't drive past Doumar's without Henry pointing wildly towards the building. I used to love going there when I was a kid, too, so it makes sense. An enduring love and tradition for a favorite local spot.
As I feel sort of mournful that my dear first born is growing so quickly and is no longer a wee little baby, I look with anticipation to the birth of my second. Only three more weeks to go. She is getting so big in there that I can no longer sit without slumping backwards- her little body is jammed up in my ribs. The once a week doctor's visits commenced a couple of weeks ago. Every time I take the elevator trip up to wonderful Dr. Annie William's office I cross my fingers that she will show no signs of coming early. So far, so good. Tomorrow the back wall of our house has to come down, thus opening up everything to the addition. This is a tad overwhelming, but also a great sign- once that wall comes down, there is absolutely no stalling or turning back. Time for insulation, sheet rock, dry wall, tile, hardwood floors. The hvac, plumbing, and electrical roughing-in is nearly finished. Fingers crossed. Three more weeks.
Here is that Silver Apples song that I was referring to in the last post. Catchy, non? Complete with footage of Henry golfing it up, summer style. It is bizarre how he intuitively grasps all of these different sports. Mike is very athletic, but this is relegated mostly to skateboarding. We both did the usual organized sports as kids- soccer, swimming, basketball, softball, cheerleading (shhhh); but we don't watch any football and certainly don't run off to play golf on the weekends. But when Henry sees a football, basketball, or soccer ball he literally freaks out. Someone got him a little golf set at the beginning of the summer and the rest is history. If we want him to be happy at a cookout or some other outdoor event, we just bring along a club and some balls. Yep, my son loves balls!!
Also, as promised: The Whispering Winds blurb we put together. Totally ridiculous.
"From the ashes of shoegaze, psychedelic, 2step, and western swing springs forth Whispering Winds. Whispering Winds are pushing the boundaries of wizardry through the implementation of such magical musical devices as delay, reverb, wah-wah, and phaser. They have more tricks up their sleeves than both Siegfried and Roy AND their two wily tigers. Traveling across a musical spectrum punctuated by both extreme repetition and simple pop, the Winds weave magical tapestries of layered sound which may or may not bend your mind. "
Come out to the show. Saturday night at The Boot. It "may or may not bend your mind."
Thursday, August 28, 2008
In the traditional sense I am by no means a very religious person. However: Thank the Almighty One, hallelujah!!!!!! We have walls (sort of). And a roof (sort of).
Craziness abounds here as the planning of fifty billion projects (all to be carried out at once) continues. The building of a home and managing without a general contractor, which includes enough details that I'm sure my brain might soon explode; the very, very soon birth which is about to occur and includes me more than I wish to be included at this point (I wish Mike could absorb the baby from me by some marvel of osmosis and then push her out for me- he is such a dear man, I'm sure he'd do it if possible); the planning of a best friend's baby shower (whose little guy will also be arriving shortly); and last but certainly not least, the organizing of what I desperately want to be an awesome and unforgettable birthday weekend for my most favorite almost two year old, sweet Henry. There is so much more in between, but those are the main things I'm trying to focus on. Speaking of 'focusing on', I can't get this damn Silver Apples song out of my mind called 'Hocus Pocus'. It is so catchy that if you heard it right now you'd be humming it too. I can't find a video of it on you tube, but here is a taste of some silver apples:
and there you go. Speaking of music (and to make this post even more rambling than it already is)- my husband and brother are in a band together along with some other friends, and they happen to be playing this weekend (Saturday at The Boot). It is their first show after developing their songs and practicing for a year. I am looking forward to this. I helped Mike write the most ridiculous press release this weekend. I'll have to post it here later.
I have just been too busy lately to write anything of substance here. My sincere apologies to my dear three readers. This was in my email inbox today: Holy Crap! But at least we finally got this stuff: All of the wood was delivered last Thursday. The windows are arriving later this week; french doors, etc. next week. I had a doctor's appointment this morning and all seems to be well with the little lady. I have my next appointment in two weeks and then after that I will have to see my doctor every week until she is born. Where did the time go?
We adore our little house. When I discovered our sweet 1938 cape cod in a quaint little neighborhood with giant trees and winding roads near our favorite Norfolk places, I knew we had found our home. We knew that it was small, but with a large backyard there was potential for expansion. And then our family began its expansion. At the point Henry arrived we began seriously contemplating a major addition. And when that second little line arrived on that pregnancy test this past late winter, we knew it was time to stop contemplating and get the ball rolling. Having an architect for a brother really came in handy at this point, as we were able to sit down with Thom and get him to flesh out the current attainable version of our 'dream home' (my actual dream home consists of secluded acres of land, lots of glass and steel, and ocean views). We simply need a larger kitchen/family room area, another full bathroom, and an extra bedroom, preferably a large master bedroom with a nice big walk-in closet. Oh yeah, and a screened-in porch that the family room and master bedroom could both open up into through nice sets of french doors.
We contemplated just moving to a larger house, but we couldn't find anything in our price range that matched our current location or the criteria by which we deem housing suitable for our family needs. With plans in hand, we were somehow able to secure funding in this god-awful market. We decided to act as the general contractors ourselves to save money. Mike's mom has run a breakfast/lunch shop for 25 years, and she has many regular customers who work in various areas of construction. Foundation guys, plumbers, electricians, etc. Through her and some of our own connections we were able to lock-down some people to help us get the addition done. People warned us of the stress this type of thing causes, and how it always runs over-budget and over-deadline. But I was so excited that we were moving forward with this thing that I didn't even allow that part to phase me.
At first the novelty of having a port-A-potty and a giant back hoe in our yard was very exciting. (Our name is even stenciled neatly on the front of the port-a-potty- hello this years christmas cards!!) Things moved pretty quickly past the environmental/preliminary building inspections we needed to obtain permits, etc.; the foundation was quickly dug, concrete filled in, sand dumped, bricks beautifully laid. Now we are just waiting on a building supplier to come up with the necessary materials from our blueprints so that we can order what we need to frame it up. This has been the most frustrating part, thus far. Which is ridiculous, because it shouldn't be. We have already dumped one supplier and are just waiting on another (anyone reading this about to build something? DON'T USE PRO BUILD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Long story. Will save it for some other time. Let's just say that I'm not playing mrs. nice guy any longer. And this time around I might even take freaking prisoners, dammit.
Needless to say, the novelty of the back hoe and even the port a potty have sort of worn off. Perhaps I will feel better about everything once the materials are delivered and the framing begins. In the mean time I'll just keep my fingers crossed that this baby doesn't arrive any time before she is supposed to. And the next time we decide to build something, it won't be with a crazy two year old running around and another one on the way. Actually, the next time we realize we need to build something, we will probably just move.
I am cranky and tired and need a vacation. A 'laying on the beach in Mexico' kind of vacation. If you are feeling the same, check out my girl below. She'll perk you right up, promise. I just have to make it through to Friday- deerhunter at The Boot. holler.
It has been forever and a day since I've posted... I have been staying quite busy with my pregnancy. Our little lady is just kicking away, and my anticipation of her arrival is filled with such happiness. My love for little Henry just grows so much every day; the thought that this sort of love will be doubled soon just blows my mind. I think back often to when I was in the last months of pregnancy with Henry. There is so much waiting and wondering; wanting to see and hold this tiny person that has been growing inside of you (for what seems like an eternity). There is nesting, worrying and wondering, a bit of apprehension about how things will change. Then the baby is born, and nothing could really prepare you for the reality of it. Before Henry I had zero experience with babies. I had various stints as a babysitter, but nothing that prepared me for the reality of dealing with an infant. Those first months are so sleepless and tiring, and your body is still trying to re-acclimate itself from the toll of pregnancy. It takes quite a while for things to reach an even keel again (not that they will ever be the same- which is a good thing, it just takes a while to realize this). This pregnancy is so different in that I feel more prepared. I thought I was so prepared last time, with all of my baby manuals, gear, etc. This time around I am more prepared without any of those things.
Henry will be two in a very short couple of months. Every night we carry out the same bedtime routine- after dinner and a bath Mike and I snuggle with him on the couch and unwind with a little Sesame Street. And every night I think "kid, where have you been all of my life??!! you are truly the bees knees!!" and then I realize- oh yes, you have been inside of my heart this whole time. all of my love, my hopes, and dreams. And now you are outside of me, my love, and Mike's love all out there in the open. And I guess this is the part that really scares the hell out of parents, because of course you want to protect your love with all of your will and might. But you also have to set it free. There is a balance, and I guess most of my every days are about trying to figure out that balance. And here there is another little one inside, kicking away, a whole bunch of love waiting to be set free. I will miss being pregnant- I feel more beautiful and strangely alive this way (maybe it is because I felt so awful and wished so much for death the first few months of "morning" sickness); there is something so primal and amazingly spiritual and even animalistic about being pregnant. I wish I could bottle all of this up and really remember it forever, because this is likely the last time I will be pregnant. Two is a great number, and I think we are sticking with it.
We have undertaken a huge project, which is another big reason why I haven't updated in awhile. I can't wait to share news of it here, but it will be just a bit longer. Let's just say that every morning when I wake up and look out the window, I mutter under my breath: we must be insane. But more on that later.
I'll leave you with some lovely shots of Henry and I fooling around and of him raiding my tupperware drawer. The kid loves to put stuff on his head. Bowls, buckets, boxes, pots and pans. What can I say? We lovingly refer to him sometimes as "bucket head." Well, he is his father's son! (he likes to put stuff on my head, too)
