Bedtime spill

I logged on to write something but my mind has turned to mush.

Guess I'll go to bed. But first I'm going to empty my brain like a cluttered purse.

We've gotten into an itty bitty bit of routine around here with the boy and the dog. Still, it's harder for me now to catch zzz's with Bubba during his naps. Gotta watch out for that pup starting his potty dance, and get him outdoors ASAP.

And make sure he doesn't chew through anything electrical. Et cetera.

The house training is progressing, but if I'm distracted and forget to let him out super-regularly there'll be an accident to clean up. 'Seems to always happen in the evenings when I'm trying to put dinner together.

Speaking of clean ups, I subscribed to ePantry when Modern Mrs. Darcy had a promo on her blog. It was like a $10 credit and a free candle. Or something.

We go through a lot of vinegar (gallons) and a lot of Mrs. Meyer's around here. I once had a bleach-it-dead! approach to sanitization. Having a toddler around changed things. He touches everything and maybe his breathing and basking in Clorox isn't so healthy. I want cleanliness without the toxic exposure, and Mrs. Meyer smells so darn good.

Ever feel like every blogpost these days is a sponsored advertisement? Well, this one isn't. I don't get into all that.

Speaking of subscriptions, Target randomly canceled my diaper deliveries. Maybe it was a computer glitch or maybe it's a sign I should try Amazon Prime. I succumbed to the free Prime trial when it promised to deliver my vacuum filter replacement in two days. I couldn't wait for standard shipping. We are a vacuuming people around here.

Even Bubba knows how it's done.

Oh my goodness. With that new filter I felt like we had a brand new machine. The power. Oh boy.

Still reading? Since I'm on an internet subscription kick I thought I'd give StitchFix a whirl too. I need some jeans but don't feel like dragging Bubba through a gazillion mall dressing rooms.

Fingers crossed. Goodnight Moon.

I mean, goodnight y'all.

Battle of the Bugs

We had a few hits and many misses with our garden this year. I think we'll have covered all the biblical plagues just as soon as the locusts show up.

^These guys ^  The super cabbages. No deprivation of water, soil, or sunlight could kill them until the armyworms showed up. The armyworms eventually got bored and moved on to the tomatoes which had been our "good" crop. Nothing is safe.

Experiment: did you know you can soak armyworms in bleach for 48 hours, and they will not die? True story.

And then the blight settled in as well.

We've been applying a natural agent called Neem oil every week or so. I think it's the extract of some South American tree. It has some anti-fungal and anti-insect properties but it's no cure all. It seems to have deterred the armyworms a little and may keep the blight in check. Hard to say where we'd be without it.

The sickly summer squash seemed to finally start growing  . . . and then it mysteriously wilted. There was this orange goo around the stalks, and I thought it was one more fungus among us. Oh no. I scraped off the goo and caught a flash of the worm from Dune. Just kidding. Sort of. A big fat maggot had been eating the plant from the inside out. Vine-boring larvae apparently; thanks Farmer's Almanac. These guys are awful. They hide inside the stalks and stems, and it's a hunt to cut them out without totally destroying the plant.

I think we planted over a dozen summer squash plants. Here's our lonely, single zucchini yield.

And the compost pile gave us this butternut squash. We'll see if it survives. I've heard winter squash has to ripen quite a while on the vine.

Many people have recommended pulling out the big guns and using Sevin dust (carbaryl = neurotoxin). But I'd rather not turn the garden into yet another area of no-no! for the baby and the dog. Bubba--if he's quick enough--will pick a tomato and eat it like an apple before I can wash it. What's the fun of a home garden when it's a hazmat zone?

Meanwhile, the tomatoes are earning the MVP award. They've been hit hard--about every other fruit has to be tossed because of worms or fungal rot--but they are prolific in spite of it all. One plant is literally seven feet tall.

They're the encouragement I need to keep trying.

fur baby

We've had the puppy for about two weeks now. My first impressions are these:

1) He is a great little dog

2) I'm thrilled we have tile floors

The two babies like each other a lot, most of the time. They just don't know how to express affection appropriately. Bubba thinks a napping dog is the most bear-huggable dog. The dog thinks a chubby toddler is a great chew toy.

Thankfully both are tough little boys.

Bubba wants to lay his head on the puppy and pin him down like a pillow. While I don't want him to actually hurt the dog -- and I don't think he will-- it occurred to me that, perhaps, wrestling down the dog like he does might be his own way of asserting dominance while he still has a few pounds over the puppy.

The puppy, to his credit, has never shown any aggression to Bubba. He just wiggles away. We've also let his meals be interrupted regularly less he get territorial about his food.

The gnawing--on my toes, on Bubba, on my shoes--is pretty obnoxious but I know it's a puppy phase thing. Overall, he is a pretty chill dog. He gets feisty and chewy from time to time, but mostly he just wants to lay down and nap at my feet.

Or pee on the floor. Ugh. My folks have had dogs my entire life but they were always outdoor dogs that slept in the garage. This is just an adjustment I have to make. The other day I found dog hair on the kitchen counter top

: o

The dog has never been on that counter and neither has his toys/bowls/leash etc. The hairs had simply wafted up with the fan draft, I suppose, and settled there.

German Shedder indeed.

How does your garden grow

According to Instagram, it's been one month and some change since we set out our plants. This is how we're looking:

This is how we've come . . .

One week in

Three weeks in

Everything in this bed is booming. It's the first one we planted. The tomatoes really shot up; they've got some small fruits on them. The marigolds bushed out. The cabbage plant that simply would not die is actually thriving. 

This bed we laid out a few days later with the same soil ingredients, though we purchased the composted manure (Black Kow) and dirt (Sta-Green potting soil) from a different Lowes on a different day. 

It has really struggled. Funny what a difference there is between the summer squash varieties. The crooknecks are slow growers but they are growing. 

The straight necks are clinging to life. We bought so many seedlings because I thought squash would be easy. 

I see some culling and thinning out in the future. Whatever does survive here is going to need some more space.

These little guys are unidentified growths transplanted from the mulch pile. I'm guessing more squash or some kind of melon. 

And the bionicle super-cabbage. We inherited a large flat full of baby cabbage plants. They stayed in those little cups for weeks until we got around to planting then. Hard to believe they didn't die, especially after we sacrificed them as a peace offering to the baby for keeping his hands off the tomatoes. 

This one was pulled out of its planter cup and lay exposed on the ground for days, its wilted leaves shredded. But it's hanging on. 

'Makes me wonder if we should be eating this stuff. 

Our New Addition

With only one co-sleeping baby waking to nurse every two hours through the night, we figured we were getting too much sleep 'round these parts.

The natural solution, of course, being the acquisition of a puppy.

Check!

Ryan has long wanted a German Shepherd, and I always had pet dogs growing up. We now have a house with a mostly tile floor and a big fenced yard.

Still, we had no active plans for getting a dog ourselves -- not just yet. Bubba's arrival last year had pushed those to the back burner.

Last week a German Shepherd litter came into my dad's clinic for their vaccinations and exams. Ryan's antenna went up immediately, and he swapped numbers with the owner, who happened to be a Marine veteran also.

We talked later that evening about the dogs. I've always had reservations about GSDs and their tendency to have fear aggression problems. It did help a lot that we had recently been dog sitters for a very friendly Rottweiler and a German Shepherd.

I could not care less about bloodlines and papers and pedigree. We most wanted to meet the parent dogs and see what their temperaments were. We also considered that--should there be more children in our future--maybe the easiest time to house train a puppy is now. *Most* nights there are two of us at home, one to put Bubba to bed, the other could deal with a dog.

I was scheduled to work all weekend, but I took it as a sign when I was called off my Friday night shift. The following afternoon all three of us drove out to see the pups. The owner's house and yard were shrouded by thick bamboo, the perimeter spotted by security cameras, and the mailbox painted like the Vietnam service ribbon.

I knew Ryan had found a kindred spirit.

Inside, the family kept a lovely yard and garden where we were swarmed by eight fluffy puppies. Bubba wasn't dazed at all. I kept trying to identify the most personable pups and the shy pups, but it was impossible. They seemed equally outgoing, and none were bashful. Both mom and dad dogs were home, and--while not having quite the lick-you-to-death enthusiasm of a retriever--both were very friendly, calm, and relaxed.

It was hard to pick out this little fella, but we think he's the one.

Welcome home, buddy.

Things making me happy this week

Well, what made me happy a few days ago ; )  I wrote but forgot to post . . . 

1) A week of rain and thunderstorms. Everything is so lush outside, and few things are as luxurious as watching a good down pour from your back door with nowhere to go. 

Unfortunately, the garden is swamped. But I hope it'll bounce back. 

2) My smartphone being Facebook and Pinterest free.

Freedom!

I deleted the apps, not the accounts. Because really, one does not need to check one's newsfeed on the hour. Once or twice a week is just fine. 

Also, Pinterest is such a brain drain. I really like it for organizing web links I want to revisit, or for seeking inspiration on a particular thing, say, backyard gazebo designs. 

But far too often I was just randomly scrolling through an infinite number of pretty pictures, which can have the unintended effect of suggesting your own life sucks. When it doesn't. 

3) My patients. Did I just say that? Don't get me wrong: given the choice, I would always rather stay with my boys, but that's not a choice to be had right now. 

Anyway, thankfully I had the honor of working with some simply kind and lovely folks this past week. 

4) Ryan and lil' Bubba. I was having a particularly grouchy afternoon after a weekend of no sleep. Ryan brought some Vietnamese food to the rescue.

And he planted me an herb garden.

This one, with lemon balm, basil, sage, and lavender: you just need to stick your face in and inhale. 

And the little guy. Sometimes babies know best. I was checking something on the computer and getting frustrated. He wouldn't leave me alone, and I couldn't distract him with toys. 

I gave up, gave in, and snuggled him, and everything was immediately better, for both of us. 

5) Filed my taxes. Finished my CEU's to renew my license. BaZINGa!

Milking it

One year into breastfeeding and going strong!

For most of my life I did not think I would ever make that statement. 

Didn't plan on getting married. Didn't plan on being a mother. 

I'm a mom in one of the most visceral, tangible ways right now. It consumes so much of my life currently; I never expected this identity.

For the record, I have also never loved being alive like I have this past year.

But back to the subject, I always thought breastfeeding would be a chore. I presumed a mom would wean as soon as healthily-feasible. I presumed extended breastfeeding moms were slaves to their children, permissive, and [probably] had some kind of codependency problem.

I didn't foresee the joy of breastfeeding. I should have.

I have always loved feeding people. I've enjoyed making ridiculously huge family dinners since I was in grade school. I really, really like being able to put food on the table when friends are over. Babette's Feast: it speaks to me.

Feeding your child the best nutrition on the planet gives a similar satisfaction. Plus, there are the sweet snuggles, the convenience of ready-to-go, prewarmed drink, and less stress about how much solid food actually makes it in because you know the milk can sustain him.

Oh, and the weight loss. I lost 40 lbs of pregnancy weight in a matter of weeks and then an additional 10 lbs. Meanwhile I ate as much as I wanted. Yes, I know I'm lucky to have this metabolism. But regardless of weight loss, breastfeeding is lowering my risk for cancer, diabetes, heart disease, and probably osteoporosis.

It hasn't been completely smooth sailing; it hurt a lot for the first few weeks. It was drippy and messy for a while. I had an unquenchable thirst. I think an oversupply caused a lot of colic-like symptoms for the first few months. We still have problems with occasional biting. And there is the ongoing challenge of nursing being Bubba's primary sleep association. But I'm thankful that overall it's been as successful as it has.

Also, breastfeeding in public: I should apologize to all moms right now. I used to think that nursing in public was unsightly, gross--you know, cover those things up, ma'am. Nobody wants to see that.

Despite all the advancements of feminism in society, I judged women's bodies so hard. Nevermind that biologically boobs are, well, made for breastfeeding.

And really, nursing just isn't a private thing. If you think it is, you are in reality suggesting that women ought to stay home. Because many babies need to nurse every 45-60 minutes, particularly newborns. And what is so private about feeding a baby? Nothing. For adults, sex is private. Going to the bathroom is private. But eating is hardly private. If anything, it's a communal thing. We meet friends for lunch, we have family dinners, we dine in public, we are amongst strangers at restaurants. So why would feeding a baby--in the way babies were designed to be fed -- be a thing of secrecy?

So I apologize, again, to all the flabby, frumpy, disheveled nursing moms I sneered upon. You were feeding your child. That is enough. You don't owe it to society to look graceful or elegant or photogenic in the process.

Dirt

We talked all winter about growing a garden this year. 

Did we plan ahead? no

Research our plants? no

Build our bed frames [in advance]? no

Save money and start from seed? no

Get something in the ground? Yes!!

"To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow"

Perhaps. But if it all dies overnight, we had fun this day. 

Not that it will. Not gonna let it. Repeating to no-green-thumb self. 

This is the kind of farmers we are: drive to Lowes, buy lumber, randomly pick out veggie plants that "look nice," get a truck bed full of manure and potting soil, go home, assemble in one afternoon. 

Voila!

Ok, I did put a little thought into the vegetables. I eat lots of tomatoes. So one bed is pretty much all tomatoes. I know squash grows well in these parts (or at least it tends to be the Phoenix of the compost pile) so that's the second bed. 

We inherited a whole bunch of cabbage plants that someone gave my mother in law for her school kids. She didn't see her class having the opportunity to grow them, so now they're interspersed in any remaining spots. We also sacrificed a few to keep Bubba's hands busy and off my tomato plants. 

 

Wish us luck. 

Links

My mother's mother died three years ago this day, no joke. 

I'm thinking of all the kind things she did for me when I was a kiddo: the bubble baths, the giant mugs of root beer floats, playing the "Calamity Jane" video again and again, the shopping trip for my own cowgirl hat, letting us sisters have free range of her fabulous closets for dress-up. 

It occurred to me yesterday that the best thing she did for me I never saw--her loving my own mom as a baby and a little girl. 

You learn a lot of things in many places, but you mostly learn from your family how to live. 

I love my son as much as I do because my grandmother loved my mom and my mom loved me. 

The joy I know in loving him, what I experience every day, comes from somewhere a long time ago and a long way back. But Meme is the furthest point I can tangibly reach back to.

Thank you, Meme. 

'Konmari me

I've been on a bit of a spring cleaning kick this past week. 

Not a binge, just a lil kick. 

My neighbors are cleaning out their garage. 

What's behind spring cleaning? I theorize that the nice weather makes us feel better about ourselves and life and when we feel well, we have more energy and motivation. 

It's not like I have more time now than previously. I mean, yeah I'm working 25 hours a week whereas I was putting in 37+ before Bubba came along. But he more than makes up for that time difference. 

What did I do with myself before he was born? In retrospect I had sooooo much free time to work on pet projects. Instead, in retrospect, I wasted sooooo much time on the internet. 

I recently deleted Facebook and Pinterest apps from my phone. No regrets. 

When my kindle battery recharges I'm going to buy Marie Kondo's book. I've been skimming through a number of organizational blogs but they haven't done much for me. In short, they propose this: 

1) Spend a small fortune on dozens of cute color coordinating containers. 

2) Organize your things in said containers. 

Uh. My material problems run deeper. Or should I say I need more help than that. My thinking about belongings and stuff and necessity need challenging.

I've heard that's what Marie Kondo offers--a philosophy of decluttering. Asking yourself "does this [piece of crap] bring me joy?" "What am I really fearful of in letting it go?" 

At least that's what the reviewers suggest. We'll see. 

Waiting

. . . outside the fish market while Bubba naps in his car seat. It's been almost two hours (!) in the parking lot here. 

But he's been a good little shopping companion today, and he's earned it ; )

Letting go

We had an unexpected treat this afternoon when four friends dropped by our home. I briefly had palpitations because the house was messy. Sooo messy. Not very gross, no mildew monsters crawling out of the bathrooms or anything. Just lots of stuff strewn everywhere.

Ryan and I both have some perfectionist streaks. For two minutes I was initially mad at myself for slacking on the pick up, for not keeping the house in a constant state of guest-readiness.

But fortunately, somewhere amongst the internets I had recently found this little gem (I think on the ModernMrsDarcy blog), and I remembered it:

Hospitality means people leave feeling 

better about themselves, not about you.

Bam.

This was about connecting with friends I hadn't seen in way too long, not a show-and-tell for my interior decorating.

I just let it go.

Later this evening I started reading "Savor." I think this article on thenester blog and this quote from Shauna Niequist was meant for me today.

"Friendship is God's greatest evidence of Himself here on earth." 

'Feeling so grateful for the beautiful people in our life. I need to not let silly stuff get in the way of them.

Wild Kingdom

In the last 24 hours, we've spotted a possum, rabbit, and red tailed fox in our backyard.

The young homo sapien was also repeatedly seen throwing clothes into the laundry hamper and clapping for himself upon completion.

A for Effort

"Don't worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you." -- Robert Fulghum

In a sentence: Bubba gets fun-er and more fun every week ; p

In a paragraph: Every so often I flip open (or tap, it's on my Kindle) the Wonder Weeks book to help me understand why my baby is being difficult. And I just said he was fun, didn't I? Both equally true. 

That book has been a great guide to the weekly & monthly developments that infants make -- mental growth spurts if you will. It reminds me of the understanding we adults take for granted: of spatial property, of distance, of sequences and processes, and all manner of things I had previously thought were innate from the get go. It reminds me that being an infant must be kind of like being a handicapped foreigner or recovering from an awful stroke. You have to learn how to make your own body parts work for you. You have to learn to translate thoughts in your head into sounds and words that have meaning for other people. It reminds me to have empathy because my son simply can't understand what I'm telling him or why things have to be mommy's way. As opposed to his way, which I imagine would be me, shirtless, holding him all day while he alternates between nursing and tugging on power cords, light switches, and vacuuming.

Yes, vacuuming. The belt wore out again on our vacuum cleaner this morning, much to our mutual dismay. I eventually shut it up in the closet. He kept gesturing to it and my repeated explanations why we couldn't vacuum the carpet were frustrating both of us. 

At least the broom still works, which takes a close second in the favorite things category this week.

There's no denying it. Monkey see = monkey do. I'm catching myself more (thanks to this book also) and trying to give him due credit for his trying . . . trying to figure things out despite being told "no" and restrained from all the things he wants to learn hands-on. What a hypocrite I must seem like, jerking his hand away from the pot, saying it's hot, but continuing to stir it myself. Same goes for the off-limits dirty dishes.

^ Taking clothes out and not putting them back. Just like mom ^

Pink Floyd tee-shirt. Just like dad's.

I swear babies must have the hearts of Olympians. Their persistence in the face of repeated denial is incredible. Sarah Ockwell-Smith rightly calls them "little scientists."

Though I really wish I could get through to him why taste testing the toilet bowl is just not a worthwhile experiment.

Happy Anniversary to my Mortgage!

I've been delaying this post for a while, waiting for two things.

1) The house to be "done"

2) The house to be cleaned up for its photo shoot

I realized I could be waiting a while. Truth be told, the house gets cleaned fairly regularly. (I did marry a Marine). But it could be ages before I get all the inner furnishings and my "old lady knick-knacks" (per Ryan) and doo-dads arranged how I like them. Plus, I have about zero dollars with which to decorate right now.

Nevertheless, we've come a long way. I can't sufficiently sum up how grateful I am to our family and friends for helping us make this house a home. I feel so at peace here; every day I'm happier we took the plunge on this place.

This is our living room one year ago (!!!) when we bought the property:

Check out that faux wood paneling. 

70's.com

The back door was all glass panels -- not very secure.

The door way between the mud/wash room and living area was open

So, we said bye bye to the paneling . . .

And our family and friends (mostly my father-in-law) installed new sheetrock in its place.

New, white trim went up.

Ryan painted the built-in shelving to match.

House make-over television shows really irritate me now--and I wasn't even doing the work. They make it seem like throwing a new coat of paint over things is an easy fix. 

(When I just now corrected a typo, I realized "pain" is literally an essential part of "paint." 

Yes indeed. How appropriate)

In reality, those shelves had to been removed, taken into the garage, sanded down, painted and painted over again in multiple coats, & be re-fit into wall (the sheetrock altered the volumetrics slightly from the original paneling). 

All the cabinet doors had to be re-hung and the hardware needed replacement.

The cabinet/shelving job took weeks.

We replaced the ceiling fan with a larger one, 

but moved the old one to a smaller room since it was still functional.

I saw this blog post on Pinterest and it introduced us to heat-resistant Rustoleum.

Taa-dah!

And now, as it is this very second . . .

The old back door was painted and moved to keep Bubba out of the laundry room- aka post-work decontamination chamber. 

The Dining Room:

Mmm. That carpet  . . .

It was replaced with "Plum Orchard" laminate flooring. 

There was laminate available for about 70-80 cents per sq ft.

But I'm glad we paid a bit more for this pattern ($1.69/sq ft I think). All our furniture is mix-matched, and I thought the multi-toned streaks in Plum Orchard would complement 

both the light and dark pieces.

Really grateful for Anthony's time and help

Today: 

Room, don't get comfortable 'cause I'm not done with you yet.

Same flooring for the formal living room, now Ryan's bar/library, 

on other side of the entryway:

Ain't it beautiful? I never thought laminate could look so good. 

The Kitchen:

Oh this room sold me.

So much hugeness. I still don't know what to do with all the countertop, especially coming from a rental where we had only about two feet of food prep space.

The kitchen came with appliances in every color: black, white, steel, and yellow.

Maybe one day we'll touch up the kitchen more.

For the meanwhile, it now has recessed lighting, a little ceiling fan, and a new-used dishwasher.

Levolor faux-wood blinds went up.

I really didn't know what to do with the ugly wall paper border, so we just painted it over.

The Nursery

Me, on my due date last year. 

I'm being really helpful, as you can see.

Oh, decisions decisions . . .

New paint. New carpet. New fan. Recessed ceiling lights

 (CFL's? LED's? buying the bulbs was such a big deal, I should remember what we actually got).

And 5 minutes ago. I didn't pick up yet today. Deal with it.

I'm skipping two rooms, but my internet time is up ; p