Workin' on a Corncob

Seville's first attempt at corn.

Reunion 2008

Thanks to my dear friends for converging on Portland all at once. It was such sweet nostalgia to be together again (most of us) for one night.

Meet Chester

This is Chester. Say "hi," Chester.

Chester and I have a bit of a difficult relationship, though I think it's one of mutual respect nevertheless. Here he is eating the birdseed that is in a "squirrelproof" bird-feeder, meant specifically for goldfinches.

He and I have spent many a moment staring each other down through the kitchen window, him thinking, "is she gonna get out the stick again?" (that I poke him with), and me thinking, "you better not go for my feeder right in front of me, dude."

The Double Barrel

Seville has been an expert nose-picker for some time now...

But this special skill emerged just the other day...

... he may have been smart enough to stop when I pointed the lens at him, but make no mistake, Seville didn't come up with this idea on her own (thanks, daddy, for the valuable life lesson).

Technological History/Nostalgia

I begin by conceding the randomness of this post, both because of the subject matter and because of the infrequency of my contributions to this blog of late. I showed up at my office this morning and had this thought (fleshed out below), but it's too "monday morning" to go try and talk to anybody in the office about it. So here goes:

I pulled out this mini-cassette player I have in my office because I may need to record part of a meeting later today. As I rewound the cassette to the beginning, I pulled it out to make sure I had rewound it to the beginning of side A. Given that I don't use the mini-cassette player frequently, I had to remind myself that with mini-cassettes, side A is fully rewound when the left reel of the two reels is empty, unlike regular cassettes where the right reel is empty (when looking at side A). (As a side note, I confess that I had to double-check the spelling of "cassette" because I use the word so infrequently anymore.) I've never understood why cassettes and mini-cassettes don't use a consistent format, but that's neither here nor there at this point. The bigger realization for me was that generations of people will soon have no idea how to use a cassette tape.

These people won't instantly appreciate the ability to queue to a particular song based on viewing the relative thickness of the brown magnetic tape on the left reel and the right reel of the cassette. They won't know the pain of seeing your favorite cassette getting eaten by the tape player only to salvage it through the art of tape splicing. I'm waxing nostalgic now. And sounding oldish. I will stop (accompanied by the sound of a mechanical click as I depress the button on my mental boom box) and get back to work.

I Can't Help Myself

I am indulging in yet another post of frivolous pictures. But there's a reason, I swear! (other than the usual, "ooh, isn't Seville cute" reason). I just got...

The Best Mother's Day Present Ever.

Seriously. I have been forewarned never to expect something like this again, and understandably so.

Behold, the work of my new mother's day present, the Nikon D40 SLR 6.1 megapixel camera:

Hikin' The Red Rock

Jared & Skye as "just friends", Zion, April 2004

I always hanker for Southern Utah in the spring. Jared and I did our first backpacking trip together there (in the picture above), before we were dating, and every year since we talk about going back. I always think it should be an annual event, but you know how things tend to come up. Anyway, 4 years later, we finally made it happen. We bounced around quite a bit, and went to four really cool spots, 2 of them National Parks:

Little Wild Horse Canyon: one of the coolest slot canyons you'll ever hike (coolest I had hiked anyway). We hit this on a Saturday, along with about 57 Mormon Scout troops. Once I got over the lack of solitude and the pre-pubescent teen to adult ratio, it got kinda fun squeezing past each other and seeing how people responded to the greeting, "howdy." Seville pet every dog that came through too, which was quite a few.

Goblin Valley: really amounts to a walk in the park, but a seriously breathtakingly weird lookin' park. I wonder how many sci-fi movies have been filmed here (at least Galaxy Quest).

Horseshoe Canyon: is actually part of Canyonlands, but detached from the rest of it and hard to get to by a long dirt road through the desert sage with many unmarked forks, turns and cows (actually, I bet the cows are marked, but not so drivers can tell). Horseshoe Canyons boasts some of the best ancient Native American Petroglyphs and a couple dinosaur tracks. The hike is well worth it without them though.

Capitol Reef: might be my new favorite National Park. There is so much stunning scenery and crazy rock formation to hike through that by the end of our stay there I practically had visual stimulus overload. Definitely a place to go back to, since we barely scratched the surface there.

See the rest of the adventure below. Or click HERE to go directly to the online album and see 'em big on your screen.

The Update on Jared

Yesterday Jared had an X-ray and checkup with his oncologist, Celebrity Dr. Nichols, and his tests came back clean. Phew! (Jared doesn't even worry about this stuff. It's only me who waits to hear after each appointment).

As for his general health, he's doing really well. He's back at work full time (he has been for some time, but we get asked this a lot). He has hair. It came back in ashen-blonde and curly, as predicted. Here's pics of the blond-ish version of Jared.

The blonde was pretty hot, while it lasted, which wasn't long (I don't mean, of course, that it was hotTER than his normal self, just... you know... hot in a "it's different" kind of way). He's more or less back his normal self now - straight, dark brown hair. In fact, he's been on a quest to grow as much hair as possible it seems, and thus the full beard of late.

So life is happy. We're good. We're gettin' on with things. Until Sunday, life was deliciously boring for a while. I guess you only get so long of a break. :) Now that Seville is a bona-fide toddler, I'm sure we're in for a ride.

Emergency x 2

As if Sunday wasn't enough adventure for us, we just got back from the Emergency Room for yet another accident. Seville fell and cut her wrist open pretty badly this evening, so we had to go get her stitched up. She spent most of her time in the hospital entertaining the staff - a 15 month old and a "waiting room" seriously do not mix well, especially for the lengths of wait-time required in an emergency room visit. So we got to know all the nurses, where the stickers were, how all the toys worked, which hallways led to where, etc.

Though she was, by all accounts, an amazingly calm and tolerant baby for most stuff, the "procedure" was nevertheless one of the most horrid things I've ever had to do - holding her still like that while they stitched her arm. I really don't want to say more about it, because I hate thinking about it. But, once again, she's fine now. She has a new "bracelet" (which you can see in the hospital pic here) and just wanted to go outside in the rain and "smell" (a.k.a. blow through her nose near) all the flowers ("fla") on our street when she got home.

It's a good thing she doesn't really know to be afraid, because she's basically fine after both Sunday and today. I, on the other hand, constantly feel like I want to throw up. Does this get easier with subsequent children/accidents?

70 Degrees and Sunny

This almost never happens at the Oregon Coast, it seems. But last weekend, the unusual weather happened to coincide with a patent law conference at Salishan Resort, which Jared had decided to sign up for and bring us all along along. I couldn't believe our luck.

Seville had never been the the ocean before (what were we DOING last summer?!... oh wait... I remember now), and she had the time of her life. She spent the whole first day just playing with sand about 4 steps onto the beach. We didn't even reach the part about "see the waves?" until day two. I figured there was no need to rush the wealth of discoveries there.

The Scariest Moment of My Life

I thought learning Jared had cancer was bad, but as I described before, it lacks the drama that people associate with such an event. The news comes in slow, measured pieces, from careful professionals who are telling you there is a monster inside you but you can't see it. So though it is scary, it's slow-deep-scary, and not the kind of thing that sends you into hysterics.

Today's events, on the other hand, packed a punch with drama and sudden-now-freak-out-scary that left me breathless, shaky, hardly able to talk, and nauseous - complete with firetruck and ambulance outside our house.

After returning from a weekend at the beach, Seville was rather vigorously playing on the couch this afternoon. She plays on the couch frequently, and usually knows how to handle herself. But today she bounced and fell off in a way that sent her careening toward the floor, swinging like a pendulum and leading with her head. I didn't see it, but the sound of the bonk sounded like furniture on furniture and I hoped to God that's what it was. When I saw Jared running over there I knew that it wasn't.

I cringed. I got ready for The Big Cry (you know how the longer they wind-up, the bigger the cry?). I was thinking, "uh, oh, this is a long windup, it's gonna be a big one." And then I was thinking, "man, this is gonna be the biggest one ever," and then I was thinking, "why isn't she crying yet, can she wind up that long?" And then I started to panic as I ran over to see what was going on. She had indeed been winding up to cry, but as I arrived, her back was arched and her eyes rolled back in her head, her body went limp (or stiff, I'm not sure which because I wasn't holding her) and then she just stopped and lay there on the couch unconscious.

At this point, of course, I screamed and ran to grab the phone. Jared thought she might have done something to her spine or neck. I thought she might have internal head injuries or something. She looked to me as if she was having a siezure, but I couldn't tell. I frantically stuttered out to the 911 person what was going on, gave her my address, tried to keep calm and answer some questions, and by the time she asked me if Seville was breathing, she was. And then she started to cry weakly. And then the cry got harder (I never thought I'd be so relieved to hear her cry so hard).

911 stayed on the phone with us until the medics arrived (which wasn't long. The fire-station is about 1/2 mile away). They checked her out and she seemed rattled but fine. They decided we didn't need the ambulance because we could take her to hospital ourselves, or we could observe her for a while and decide what to do as the afternoon went on. As the nervous mother, of course, I was all getting ready to go to the E.R., but when the neighbor came over to check on us, Seville followed him out and back to his house, played with his daughter, seemed in perfectly good spirits and normal. It seemed cruel to subject her to blood tests and X-rays and what-have-you on what was already a rough day if it wasn't necessary. I decided to take the "observe" route. I learned from my Dad that he frequently passed out and had mild seizures from trauma as a youth because he had low blood pressure. By evening she was jumping around and playing, the story started to sound like no big deal and I was starting to question the efficacy of spending 4 hours in the E.R. for a doctor to say, "well, she looks ok, just keep an eye on her for a while in case she acts unusual."

Last night in the hotel we watched the last half of that movie "Pay it Forward," in which a child dies. I spent the night trying not to wonder how I would possibly cope if I ever lost Seville. It doesn't seem possible. I never understood before I was a mother how frighteningly horrific that would be. And though I haven't been able to say the words today, and it's even hard to type the words here, I thought, for a few moments, that I was losing Seville this afternoon. She was lying limp with her eyes open. Jared, blessedly, had the inspiration to tell me over and over that he could feel her heart beating. It was the most horrifying, scary, awful moment of my life. Just awful. It's weird that you can have a moment where you think your worst fears are coming true, and then have everything just return to normal. Can I really return to normal? Here we are. It's 9:30pm. Seville is in bed. I'm on my computer. Jared is doing whatever Jared does. We're acting normal. But I can't stop saying in my head, over and over, "Thank you, God... thank you, God... thank you, God..."

10 lbs!

Pregnancy makes you fat. That's the truth of the matter, and all the stick-like actresses with pillows in their shirts for their pregnant roles cannot undo this reality (though they can wreak havoc on the self-image of thousands of real, actual, pregnant women). And when you're done with pregnancy, you think you're going to be able to wear those size 6 red pleather jeans within a few months (think again!) and can't bring yourself to buy clothing in sizes constantly pushing the boundary between The Gap and Lane Bryant. Anyway, unlike so many twenty-something moms who claim that breastfeeding "just melts those pounds right off!"(I want to flick those girls' tiny butts through their skinny jeans), my pounds have been hanging on for dear life for some time now. Since Seville has had verious food, weight, and nutrition issues, and my breastmilk supply has been inconsistent at best (too much information for some of you, I know. Sorry.), I was always advised not to diet and to "listen to my body" (which is generally saying, "chocolate... I need more chocolate").

But there comes a time in a woman's life when your own health is at least as important as the health of your child. For me this moment was when Seville turned one. So for the past couple months, I've been attempting to get closer to my formerly hot self. Though I can't see much difference yet when I look in the mirror, I did finally accomplish the 10 lb mark last week (Thank you! Thank you very much!). Here is my Weight Watcher's weight chart for all to see so that I can, a) brag; and b) make sure I feel accountable and keep going. It's bound to be a long road, but if there are skinny jeans at the end of it, I'm stickin' it out.

(Can I just say as a post script, that I realize more than ever that everyone's body is different, and just because I am having success losing weight doesn't mean I think everyone can or should at this point in childbearing. I have so much sympathy for moms who gain and don't lose later. It's incredibly hard, and we should all give our sisters a break.)

Madness of one kind or another

A tribute to my husband and his loves. Inspired by THIS YouTube clip, which was on THIS Politico post.

You Know You Love Your Child When...

I have always dreaded the day when my kid would throw up and I would have to clean up after her. Throw up makes me want to...well... throw up. I was sure I would be so grossed out by it that I wouldn't want to touch her or her stuff. But I'm proud to report that despite other parenting failures, I seem to have passed parenting test #761c (or whatever we're up to by now).

Seven Signs You Love Your Baby:

1. You use your body as a vomit shield to protect the carpet so you can "gently" carry her to the bathroom instead of rushing her in there.

2. You clean the vomit out of her hair before your own.

3. You try to sleep between the midnight vomitings (10+ of them!), but despite your utter exhaustion by 2:30am, you still just lie awake listening for any sign of distress from the next room so you can rush in.

4. You decide to just sleep in your vomit-ey nightshirt so you can hold her next time she yaks without worrying about it.

5. You kiss and kiss her vomit-reeking forehead inbetween bouts.

6. You are up at midnight doing your favorite thing: laundry.

7. You spend the next morning standing at the bathroom sink with woolite, enzyme, towels, and all her favorite stuffed animals, carefully hand-cleaning the throw-up-ey parts and trying to get the smell out without ruining them, sniffing every corner to make sure you didn't miss any, toweling off as much water off as you can, and setting them in a warm place to dry.


Poor baby girl. It's been a couple of hours since she last upchucked. I hope she's done.

Geektastic!

If Jared's Geek Aptitude was ever in question, today there is no longer any doubt.

Today is Pi day (which, of course, you wouldn't know unless you were a geek to begin with Pi=3.14..., today is 3/14. Get it?). Jared decided to organize an office Pi Party, in which people brought (of course) pies from home (or from the store, actually. People with engineering degrees aren't generally very domestic). The party took place at 3:14pm -- although Jared made an argument that it's more accurate to hold it at 1:59pm (3.14159...), but 3:14 was more convenient at the office. The management got so psyched about this (did you catch that? "psyched" about a Pi Party) that they got a gift certificate to Best Buy for the winner of the Pi contest. NO that's not a pie eating contest. That's a How Many Numbers of The Eternal Pi Can You Recite From Memory Contest. I, personally can recite three of them (3.14). Jared, on the other hand, won the contest with...

...can you guess how many digits?....

...91 digits of Pi!!!!!

Did I mention he did this from memory? If I were told I had to memorize and recite 91 digits of anything or I would be burned at the stake I'm pretty sure I would end up burned at the stake. Jared and his colleagues, on the other hand, thought it would be good fun to go through such a rigamarole. I thought he was an insane and geeky anomoly to go above, say, ten digits, but not so. The runners up: 2nd place got 71 digits. 3rd place got 104 digits, but made a mistake at #40.

Sheesh.

So in case you're wondering what the first 91 digits of pi are, here they are:

3.1415926535897932384626433832795028
841971693993751058209749445923078164
062862089986280348253