Rowan the Great

Well, it’s been more than a year and a half since either my wife or I posted anything on this family blog.  I’ve been focusing on another blog, which I barely have time for, so I thought I’d jump start this one so we can have two blogs that we do not keep up with or have time for.  Mostly I wanted some place to discuss family matters and things other than triathlon.  Also, my wife stole both of my children and will not return until later this week.  Some people think…”FREEDOM!”  I think…”FUCK!”  When you avoid social situations and interacting on a personal level, it leaves you with zero friends, which means my family is the only human interaction I get outside of work.  I miss my family.  I don’t know how people live in different cities or fight overseas (thanks by the way).

Anyway, pity party over, much has happened since May 2010 (my wife’s last post) and I’ll catch up next time.  This post will be dedicated to this past weekend, which I spent with our oldest daughter, Rowan.  I remember praying prior to her birth “I just want an athlete…at least one child who loves sports like I do.”  Well, God apparently was listening and decided to show me the meaning of the phrase “be careful what you wish for.”  Now, I kind of wish kids didn’t have legs.  ”How the hell did she get up there, weren’t you watching her!??”  ”I was…I just…I don’t know, I turned my back for two sec…wait…where did she go…is someone starting the car?”  Nevertheless, I put those legs to good use this weekend and even though she probably won’t remember it, I will and it’s only one of many to come so, Rowan, if you’re reading this at some later time, we started this a long time ago and we will continue until I’m tired of it, i.e. never.

It’s no secret that I love milkshakes.  If YOU don’t love milkshakes, you’re dead to me and…screw you.  My daughter has already grown an affinity for them.  She prefers flavors IN ADDITION to vanilla, but we can work on that.

The morning after milkshakes and before traipsing around Houston, you need to start with a healthy breakfast. Apparently, I don’t make good eggs.  Dad, seriously, I’m 2, I fucking got this.  Ok, she didn’t say fucking, but she’s my daughter so she probably will soon enough.

Ok, I guess I haven’t seen the children’s museum since I was Rowan’s age because holy crap that place is amazing and it doesn’t end. “Here’s a block and a pencil Nick don’t kill yourself.”  ”Rowan, the next shuttle to the moon leaves soon or would you rather travel through time…we can do that now.”  Sweet crap!

You had fun Rowan, I promise, despite what your mother tells you.  And what is your obsession with water???  ”Give me a bath…put me in the sink…throw me in the lake.”  More water you say?  I give you a bath every morning, you want more?  Sweet crap…fine, but this is the last time you’ll be topless in public.

Time to visit Penni and torture her dog:

That was your Saturday dear.  Sunday, we took it eas…no, we did lots more shit and while I will always love you, I’m not taking you to see the mother*#$#ing parrots at the zoo again.

Rowan: SQUEEAL!

Parrot:  SQUAAAWK

Rowan: SQQUUUUUEALL!

Parrot: SQUUAAAWWWKK!

Nick:  EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Child Services:  Sir, I need you to come with me.

Rowan: SQUEEEAL!

To close things out, we rode the carousel 1, no, sorry, 2, wait, 3, crap, 4….8 times.  EIGHT times daughter! I enjoyed it probably as much as you did though, I’ll be honest.

Whether you will admit it or not, this was the greatest weekend of your life to date.  Well, it was for me anyway.  This weekend made me realize that you and Carys are the only thing of significance that I’ve ever done or at the very least the only thing worth bragging about.  I want to be better because of you.  I want things to be better FOR you….and I kind of love you.

 

Go Stros!!

Lots going on recently.

i’ve started going to story time at the library for babies up to 15 months old… we’re a little young still for the class, but growing fast and anyway, she has fun with it already!! she actually sits in my lap and looks at the books when i read them. I was turned onto this story time by a friend of mine with a 10 month old, and is currently 6 months pregnant… insanity i tell you.

Behold , Finley cute as a button…

and will you look at that HAIR?!!! I’M jealous!

This is a great story time… the kids can crawl around and run amok, as much as up-to-15-month-old’s can anyway. There are toys in the middle to break the ice for that awkward moment when you’re just crawling out to meet another baby for the first time, and the “stories” are 4-5 page cardboard books that we zip through every 10 minutes or so, in between group songs like old mcdonald had a farm, and the ants go marching. There is joy had by all, i assure you.

and then…

get ready for this….

BUBBLES!!!!!!

that’s right folks, hold onto your seats… one of the neatest little contraptions ever, a bubble blower that shoots HUNDREDS of tiny bubbles out of what looks like a kazoo! It’s mesmerizing, even for me… so you can imagine the impact on the children. Even Rowan is impressed!

The books though, are definitely the best part.

this is a weekly thing now, and i have to say, we’re both enjoying it immensely wont’ be long until she’s reading the books to me, i guarantee it.

We also went to our very first wedding, and an out of town wedding at that. Austin is GORGEOUS! and i miss it every time i go back i lament leaving. I’m sorry to say, the wedding was not a big success. Rowan was fussy from the MOMENT we got on the road.

I feel absolutely, abysmally terrible for my friend. It was an outdoor wedding at the Villa Antonia (beautiful) and we were all seated, with the procession just about to start, and the worst happened… that’s right, i felt a single, painfully tragic drop of rain on my arm. My little arm hairs stood on end and i said a quick, fervent prayer that this did not preclude what i feared it did… sadly, it did.

within 5 minutes, it was POURING!! i mean, soaking wet.

last minute changes, we all moved into one of the reception dining rooms where the staff had cleared an “aisle” for the wedding party to walk down. Not enough chairs, so it was a standing ceremony, but beautiful nonetheless! However, there must have been murphy’s law in play or something, because the minute before the bridesmaids started to file in, Rowan decided it was time to have a fit.

Poor nick had to take her outside, covering her with her blanket, to an area with an overhang, far far away.

And, as luck would have it, she stopped fussing, AND it stopped raining and the sky completely cleared, about 1 minute after the ceremony was over. how ridiculous is that?

Regardless, it was a lot of fun although really Rowan didn’t stop being fussy all night, and we ended up driving back to Houston the same night, even though we originally intended to stay the night… she was just way too off her game to try our first wedding, AND overnight out of town sleepover in the same trip. let me tell you, that was an awesome drive back :-p

but at least i got this pretty picture

and here’s the one and only picture i got with the bride, and literally the only contact i had with her the entire night… ah the bride. I remember that time, and i’m not offended in the least

sooo, back to Houston.

we have been collecting baby stuff from thrift stores, estate sales, garage sales, friends, etc… anything we can get for cheap that’s only gently used at most. We’ve done pretty well! This was NOT the cheapest item, but it is probably in the top 3 in cuteness, so i had to share. My mom found this high chair, and Rowan is VERY fancy… its french

i can’t wait for her to start eating solids just to use this also, i’m hoping that if i get into making her own baby food it will keep me motivated not only to make sure that she stays on a healthy diet, but to get me and nick on a more consistently healthy diet. let’s keep our fingers crossed. Getting on a healthier diet is definitely going to have to rule out ball park food, sadly. that’s gonna suck, especially now that they have Prince’s hamburgers AND bluebell ice cream at the park!!! AAAHHH!!!

If you’re wondering why we are sitting our daughter in a bowl, i’ll explain. We received a BEAUTIFUL bowl made of rowan wood, with turquoise inlay as a gift from Ya-ya’s parents. We also received a request from said Ya-ya that we take a picture of her IN said bowl… so here ya go Ya-ya!!! Rowan in a rowan bowl

I’m happy to say that our first Astros game went MUCH better than our first wedding.

we made it all the way to the 9th inning!!! and then left RIGHT before Lee hit one out of the park. *sigh*. we were happy we at least made it that long with a 3 month old though

i think she had fun

finally, here is her 3 month picture. My gorgeous little girl is just growing so fast!!!

til next time

adryan

2 Months

It’s been that long since i’ve blogged… my sweet little berry is already 9 weeks old!!

is that ridiculous?!!

i mean, i know “time flies”, and i didn’t doubt the millions of people who mentioned that to us when we were pregnant (or continue to mention it to us now that she’s born… “she’ll be grown up before you know it!”), but you’d think with my eye-rolling irritability about everyone stating the obvious, and doing it with such frequency, that it wouldn’t be quite so overwhelming.

IT IS! it really is amazing how fast i feel like she’s growing up. She holds her head up really well already, she’s smiling at us when we coo at her, she gurgles and talks to us with such clever insight, i can ONLY assume she bears all of the characteristics of a certified genius in the making. It’s beautiful

i said to her the other day, “Have you heard that album by Sonic Youth?”…

she says to me “Goo?”

“YES! that’s the one!! what did you think of it?”

“Goo…”

“Yes, the Goo album… what did you think of it?”

*gurgling and smiles* <- approval.

“Hey Rowan, what’s that stuff called again that gets the gross glue and crap off of things? something-begone?”

“Goo.”

“OF COURSE! Goo-begone! thanks angel pie!”

These are our conversations of late.

Doesn’t she look absolutely overwhelmingly adorable in her Easter dress? I COULD EAT HER!!!!

I know, i’ve skipped a whole bunch of time, jumping all the way to Easter so fast… so, i’ll try to back track a little.

It’s been crazy since she’s been born. Just getting used to the fact that i finish feeding her, burp her, change her diaper, and then look up at the clock… time to feed her again….???!!!! how is this possible?! my entire days consisted of doing nothing it felt like but these three things. And cuddling with her, of course I’m getting used to it now though, we’re developing a pretty nifty routine. and guess what!…

give up?

She slept through the night, and i mean a full 9 hours last night!! WOOHOO!!!!! GO ROWAN! soooo freakin exciting. We make a good team

We moved her out of our bed,… into the pack n’ play,… and finally, into her crib. i think it was the perfect progression. I mean, how else can you explain barely over 2 months old, and already sleeping through the night??? I had thought the pack n’ play would be more useful than it has been so far, but i’m thinking it’ll get a lot more use as we start taking her more places… out of town, etc. Nick did work very hard to put it together even used the directions!

We’ve had TONS of visitors… and yes, i get pictures with all of them. I’m not going to post them all, because it would take me FOREVER! but, they are all on facebook, so if you’re that interested, check it out there people!

i’ve been getting great use out of my camera… and i figured out something i want for my birthday this year… okay, MANY somethings. And as usual, they are of the less-than-cheap variety. Why do gifts always get more expensive as you get older? what happened to the $5 toy from Walgreens making me the happiest girl on earth?

I want to get the adobe design suite package, including photoshop, so i can start becoming an expert at this whole photo editing schtick. Also, a digital video camera, so we can have her recorded in MOTION!

i’m taking pictures of her every month for a size comparison…

Here’s her at 1 month:

I know what you’re thinking… why are you TORTURING that child?!!!… hey! she’ll LOVE this when she gets older!… and yes, sadly this was was the best shot we got.

Here she is at 2 months!!!

Oh my…

Isn’t she the most precious smushy berry face you’ve ever seen?!?!

*implodes at being overwhelmed with adorableness*

Easter was so much fun! We decorated Easter cookies, and eggs… next year Rowan should actually be able to participate, even if it’s just flinging icing all over the walls…. though i feel the need for full disclosure, our attempts at cookie decorating weren’t a whole lot better than flinging.

Lots of fun, but it took FOREVER!!! we had a TON of cookies! we decided that next year, we are going to forego the eggs, and focus on the cookies. Rowan came dressed to party, either way

i had a mini- (and by mini, i mean probably 80+ pictures) -photo shoot with her in her Easter dress. Here are just a couple of the best shots, and i challenge you to find a CUTER baby!!!! you can’t do it, can you?!! … i thought so.

i also started back to work. Part time, from home. This has been a challenge, i must say. working 8 hours, to get 4 hours of work done isn’t exactly what i was expecting. i guess if you tally up the number of times she eats a day, at about 30 minutes each time when you factor in burping and diaper changes, it’s around 4 hours of the day, so it makes sense. STILL THOUGH! holy crap! i work half the time, and it STILL feels like  i can’t get everything finished! what’s up with that???

i guess it’ll just take some getting used to. Overall though, i think it’s the best possible scenario i could find, so i’m very grateful i have the option.

And now a little nostalgia

Here’s a picture of my mom holding me as a baby, and a picture Nick took of me and Rowan the other day…

Til next time! (hopefully sooner than this time :-p)

adryan

Rowan Grace Dupre

SHE’S HERE!!!!!

Our beautiful, sweet little angel pie cutie face snuggle bug, is officially here HURRAY!!!!

It’s so hard to believe that less than a week ago, my gorgeous little girl was squirming around in my tummy… and now she’s sitting here with me, cuddled up in her brown and pink polka dot PJ’s, all snuggly and sweet smelling and painfully adorable.

Here was the last belly shot that i took, only a few days before her arrival.

So… i guess it’s time to blog all about her arrival HERE WE GO!

Labor…

Thursday morning, on the 28th of January, i was lying in bed, just minding my own business, when my water went ahead and broke.

That’s right, the thing they say only happens less than 15% of the time, happened. I knew pretty much immediately, although it wasn’t the dramatic miniature flood that seems to be so popular in the movies. I did make it to the bathroom without a significant mess. The fact that it DID break will be the source of the majority of my frustration during the remainder of the labor, but i’ll get to that.

how did my water break first, you ask? GOOD QUESTION!… alright, i know most people will laugh at me, and call me crazy,…. but ladies and gentlemen…. i give you…

Exhibit A:

CHECK OUT THOSE CLAWS!! Especially the incredibly impressive thumbnail. It’s unbelievably long, and irrationally sharpened to a fine point on the end. I think little miss Rowan decided she was ready to make her debut, and poked herself a nice little exit hole to her prison. Again, a crazy theory by some people’s standards, but i’m convinced, nevertheless.

So, water broke, contractions started pretty immediately. Bearable, but definitely contractions!

i woke nick up to let him know, and excitedly tell him that we should just stay in bed and try to get more sleep so we’re as rested as we can be for the labor.

I couldn’t really get back to sleep, once the contractions started. I could lie down through them, but not really sleep, so i got up to time them… 5 minutes apart, and about 1 minute long.

WOOHOO! i was excited i knew it would be a long time still but at least i had some decent contractions going!

Nick had 2 hearings that morning, and i figured there would be PLENTY of time for him to go to them… so he left, and i stayed home and nick called my mom, sister, and midwife on his way to work. I went back to bed to work on practicing pain management through the contractions while they weren’t unbearable.

Nick came home about 10:30, and it was just the two of us for awhile. He started filling up my tub, and i was almost giddy with excitement about the prospect of getting to use it. Self heating… jacuzzi jets… oooh soooo good.

One of the greatest tragedies about this whole thing, was that i never got to use my tub Can i just tell you, this was my white whale. I wanted it so bad i could TASTE IT! we called my midwife, and since my water had broken (DAMNIT!) i couldn’t get in the tub until i was far enough along to be SURE to deliver within a few hours. So, the entire time i labored at home, that tub taunted me. Every now and then it would fire up to keep maintaining the heat of the water, and each time it was like a little voice saying “aaaaadryan….. look at me!….. i’m sooooo warm, and comfortable…. i’ll make your contractions sooooo much better….. come swim in me!…..”

you get the idea.

but sadly, it was not meant to be i needed to get to around 7 or 8 cm before i could get in.

My mom and sister joined us around 1:00, and my favorite sister in the whole world had officially taken over record keeping duties lots of pictures, and facebook updates, and text updates for friends and family. Here is one of the ONLY pictures of the labor time at home where i don’t look both miserable, and enormous.

My midwife came to join us later that afternoon, and about 12 hours after my water broke, after contractions had DEFINITELY gotten longer, harder, and closer together (about every 3-4 minutes, 1 1/2 minutes, and painful!) i got an exam…. 4-5 centimeters

ooooh the disappointment. after 12 hours, and contractions that STARTED at 5 minutes apart, only 4-5 centimeters?! i was almost 100% effaced, and she was definitely moving down very well into position, but she was still posterior. This, and the fact that it was my first labor and baby, is what we have attributed to my slow progress.

Okay, so, it’s now around 5:30 in the evening on Thursday. Time to settle in and just keep working.

fast forward, more of the same, to about 3:00 pm the next day. Still can’t get in the tub, but i’m getting another exam to see how far i am, and i am SO CERTAIN that my midwife is going to say i’m AT LEAST 7 or 8 centimeters, and NOW i can get into the heavenly swirly water of wonderfulness.

Sooo… how far along am i?…..

5 CENTIMETERS!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

At this point, we’re at 34 hours of labor. *sob*. It isn’t that i didn’t think i could keep going, i really think i could have! Here’s where we ran into a problem.

Since my water had broken, and my first exam had been at 5:30 the night before, we were approaching the point where we needed to start thinking about the risk of infection. UGH!

Delivery…

So, we talked about it, and made the decision to go to my backup physician. Not my first choice, obviously, but at this point i had 3 things working against me: 1. my first baby, therefore typically longer and more likely to stall… 2. broken water, risk of infection if labor takes too long… 3. posterior positioning of the baby, means ANOTHER cause of prolonged or stalled labor.

Pitocin it is. Yikes.

here i am, ready to head out. there’s the jacuzzi in the background… *sniffle*

So we leisurely made our way to the hospital, where we were checked in and hooked up to pitocin within the next hour.

HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP!!!!

34 hours of labor at home with no drugs was nothing compared to the couple hours of pitocin contractions at the hospital. NOTHING i tell you! At this point, things moved VERY quickly. No problems or emergencies, babies heart rate never showed any signs of problems, i never got a fever or problems with blood pressure, or temperature, or anything…. However, as is strictly the nature of the hospital setting i’ve decided, these situations are going to feel incredibly RUSHED no matter what the circumstances.

I got dilated to 10 pretty darn quickly, and was pushing by 7:00…. Hard. Took 25 minutes or so, plus an episiotomy (OUCH OUCH OUCH!) and pretty little girl was out beautiful, and perfect, if i do say so myself! **Warning: slightly graphic image to follow…

So, to sum up this part of the hospital experience… i am sooo grateful for my backup physician, without whom i probably would have gotten a doctor who was too concerned with the length of time my water had been broken to allow me to try working towards a vaginal delivery. I’m grateful for the pitocin that helped me get things moving that last bit to the finish line. We had an amazing labor and delivery nurse, and an amazing doctor.

That said… i HATE that we ended up needing to be there. I’m disappointed we couldn’t make it work at home, although to be honest, if that had been the last of it, and both i and my healthy little girl had been able to head home within a few hours at that point, it would have been a lot better.

As it is, the time AFTER the delivery while we were still in the hospital was the worst. It only cemented all the reasons we had been trying to avoid the hospital in the first place.

3 nurses in the room with us at delivery, and one of them decided that Rowan was having respiratory distress and needed to be rushed off to the nursery. The other two looked at each other, and my midwife, and all three of them essentially shook their heads to me and told me there was nothing wrong with her, and they weren’t sure why this nurse had taken it upon herself to make a “case” out of my baby girl…. and so it begins.

We signed a no separation policy form, meaning that wherever the baby went, one of us went with her, so nick followed the nurse (much to her nuisance and dismay) into the nursery to make sure that nothing was done that we didn’t want to have done, and to keep up with anything that was done to her or needed. The nursery nurse was NOT happy about his presence. We were happy he went though, because if he hadn’t she would have had the automatic vit K and hep B vaccine which we didn’t want, but they never ask you about apparently.

We were told she’d be back in half an hour… 2 hours later, i was calling the nursery to bug them asking WHEN we would be able to feed her, since even the literature that THEY HAND OUT talks about how important it is to nurse within 30 minutes of delivery in order to ensure healthy nursing habits from the beginning. But, i guess once they go to the nursery, they assume that all moms don’t care about nursing, because just about all the babies in there had a formula bottle popped in their mouths. And so would Rowan if Nick hadn’t been there to assure them that we wanted to breast feed, and in as much needed her to be back in the room with me for that to happen.

she was FINALLY brought back in, over 2 hours after she left. Had to have the eye goop that we didn’t want, but has been made mandatory by law in the hospital unfortunately. Not that big of a deal, just one more thing about the experience that reminded me yet again why we had wanted to avoid going.

Another thing that was INCREDIBLY annoying, was that they had a 2 person maximum for visitors in the hospital rooms at any time…. TWO!!!!! The reason for this they said, was the SWINE FLU! yes, the swine flu people. They are concerned that more than 2 people in the room at one time means that you have a higher risk of getting swine flu… thanks to our President labeling it a federal national outbreak situation, this became mandatory in all hospitals, at least that’s what was communicated to me. So, tell me this,… does it make sense that having 2 people in the room as a limit reduce the risk, but you are allowed to switch people out, as long as it’s no more than 2 at a time?????… insanity people.

That meant, at the birth, only Nick and my midwife were there for the labor part, and my mom and sister, who had been supporting me and taking care of me for the previous 34 hours were not allowed in the room. When i got to the pushing stage, my midwife left so that my mom could come in, so it was nick and my mom. My sister didn’t get to join and to top it all off, they BAN any video cameras due to liability issues. So, you can only have 2 people at one time, and if you want to record the experience for the REST of your family that isn’t allowed in the room at all during delivery,… sorry. You’re out of luck…. Gotta just LOVE the hospital.

So, once we finally got to our second room and finally got our baby back, we began the visitor shuffle with family to come in and visit and see the baby. That was fun, let me tell you.

It would have been fine if we could have just passed our tests, and gone home. But that was not meant to be.

First we had to stay a full 24 hours. Policy.

That means we were waiting patiently i feel like, for the next day to leave at around 6:00.

But first, they had to do a PKU test on the baby. not something we had wanted to do immediately, since all the studies show it’s much more accurate to wait a week or two, AFTER the baby has had a chance to nurse for awhile and build up their immune system. But, if we left without this, it would be against medical advice, which then introduces complications with insurance coverage.

So, results are back,… Rowan’s bilirubin is slightly elevated…. This means another 12 – 24 more hours at the hospital. Another night, for no reason.

When we asked what we should do, they said make sure she keeps eating and pooping… which she had been doing like a champ ever since we had gotten her back from the nursery. So i ask you,… how is this not something we could have done from home??? what special hospital equipment did they have that was going to make it easier to feed her and make her poop? *sigh*

So, we had to wait until the following morning, and everything always takes longer than they say, just the nature of the game. We got home around 10:00, FINALLY, and baby girl slept just about the rest of the day, her first time to sleep so well.

So that’s my story!! Nick is going to post his experience from his perspective, and then i’ll give a more up beat update from the time since we’ve been home. It’s been WONDERFUL for the most part and i have TONS of pictures!!! so, stay tuned! …

Here’s my gorgeous little girl…

adryan

2 More Weeks (alright 3, but i’m staying optimistic)

GAH!!!!! I can hardly stand it!!!!

my date is set for my last official day in the office,… from that point on, baby or no baby, i will be home getting things pulled together, or POSSIBLY working from home some…

careful, don’t let that out… i’m not making any promises.

trying to be productive and focused on work-related-crap has become quite the chore. don’t get me wrong, i’m doing just fine, but i have to really TRY in order to make sure i’m still a productive, valuable member of my company. it’s becoming quite the frustration, let me tell you.

i oscillate back and forth between mindsets.

I having a ton of stuff i need to get done at home!!! *panic*… (typically this mindset is when i’m at work and can’t do anything about it)…

…and then being home and forgetting EVERYTHING i thought about at work that needed to get done,… instead, i end up sitting on my ginormous pregnant caboose in front of the TV not willing to move for anything but a few tums now and then.

oh tums, i don’t know WHAT i would have done without you this pregnancy. i truly don’t.

it’s a good thing nick is so accommodating. those couch times definitely feel like “low points” in my life quest to not be a worthless, lazy drain on society. It gets so bad sometimes, that even the 3 foot distance between my outstretched hand and the remote is just too overwhelming. i find this gratingly puny, and annoying voice emerging from what i can only conclude to be MY mouth, saying something to the effect of…

“NIIIIIIIIICK!!!!!!!!!!….”

“yes dear.”

“i can’t reach the remote *sniff*”…*making sure to end on a high note of shrill indignation*

As he exits the kitchen where he’s fixing dinner, cleaning the dishes, feeding the dogs, and brainstorming solutions to world hunger, he walks into the living room in order to pick up the ever-illusive remote control, and place it in my eagerly awaiting hands.

At least part of my former courteous self must remain, because so far i have managed to remember to mumble a meek “thankyou…” whenever this type of event transpires,… but if it continues for more than another 2-3 weeks, i think Karma will likely cause my so-far-not-TOO-awful stretchmarks to morph into deep, purplish black canyons all over my belly, and my as-of-yet-not-crazy-swollen appendages to balloon up into something resembling the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

Sleeping has become a chore, which i have to tell you, is the most tragic of all recent circumstances as far as i am concerned.

Bed and I have always had one of the most wonderful relationships. Next to my husband and my puppies, Bed is my most favorite saving grace in the whole world. We love each other.

As i start down a road that i can only assume will last for the next couple weeks due to my OWN discomfort, and then several MONTHS after that thanks to the demands of our little bundle of smooshiness, i can only mourn the loss of this once so stable, dependable, and healing relationship.

My nightly routine consists of lying down (veeery carefully) with my body pillow strategically arranged around my body, and 2 carefully stacked pillows under my head to start with…. I then sit up quickly and reach desperately for my bedside tums bottle, pop a couple of those, and then try carefully lying back down again so as not to disturb the now placated acid reflux anymore than necessary.

15-30 minute intervals find me then trying to turn to my other side, while maintaining as much as possible the positioning of my carefully placed body pillow, as well as not losing one of my two head pillows to the bottomless hole that is the back side of our bed. If i expend too much energy during these activities, Reflux isn’t very happy with me and i end up having to spend another 5-10 minutes sitting up in bed waiting for it to calm down, and occasionally taking another tums when my transgressions were just too unforgivable.

Aaaah.. finally, a short break to get some actual sleep… but wait, there’s more!

i begin to drift off, once again beginning to feel that bond that Bed and i used to share so easily, and suddenly feel that oh-so-insistent demand that i get up to use the restroom. A low point came last night when i realized my bulk could not fit between the laundry basket and my bed post, and so i was required to crawl to the end of the bed in order to work my way to the bathroom.  find myself tripping over a dog or two on the way there, and of course, on the way back, and that happens about 3-4 times a night now.

Bed, i miss you so much. i miss our supportive relationship, i miss our sweet sweet times together. I still cling to the hope that we will find that again someday, don’t give up on me.

I could continue with my complaints, but seeing as it could take the better part of the remainder of the week, and i’d like to continue having people stop by to read this drivel without feeling like it’s nothing but a bitch session, i will stop there…

and move on to some Christmas pictures.

Much more festive times, i assure you

Here i am, all misery and largeness…

We had several Christmases. As usual. It was fabulous

We spent the first at my mom’s, the 2nd at mom’s with family, the third at dad’s, the fourth at grandma’s with dad’s family. so much wonderful family time

it’s so fun to think about the fact that next Christmas, not only will we have our little girl here with us, but she’ll actually be old enough to semi-enjoy (if not understand totally) the fun festivities of Christmas!!!! Old enough at least to enjoy the ripping of paper off of boxes, and playing with bows, and all the fun associated with putting random Christmas paraphernalia in her mouth. TEE HEE!!!! it’s going to be so much fun

Oh my, look at these pies…

yes, they were delicious… my mom bakes the best apple pie of anybody.

i love you mommy!!!

Soon-to-be-referred-to-as Nana.

my sweet sweet boy was VERY VERY well behaved, but we DID have his collar on hand just as a reminder to him to behave himself. He’s SOOO STINKING CUTE!!!!!

One of our most exciting gifts was our new digital SLR CAMERA!!!! we were thinking about investing in one anyway, with baby girl on the way, so we could be sure to document EVERY POSSIBLE opportunity we could in her life, especially from the very beginning. But instead,… THANKYOU MOM AND WAYNE!

we are very blessed

Nick of course got some Superman stuff… he was very excited, as you can plainly see…

He and my mom immediately took the flying superman outside to crash it into our neighbor’s house. Way to go guys

while my REAL gift for alyson is a T-shirt quilt i’m working on for her, i did need something for her to unwrap, and she seemed thrilled with my choice of gift for her… so that makes me happy

ooh, i also got some great baking stuff!!! check it out!….

A piece of advice i’ve read in one of my books is to make sure to have a “labor project” to keep you busy in the early stage of labor so you don’t get too focused on it and wear yourself out. That way it’ll go by faster, and by the time you’re finished you’ll be ready to focus on REAL labor, the kind that really demands your attention… I’m thinking my projects will be a combination of finishing up my blanket for baby girl, and baking with my new toys… weee!!!! we’ll see what i can accomplish. Here’s hoping for a SHORT labor, even if it means not finishing my “projects”.

at my dad’s, we got him Rockband for Christmas… So did Ellen… what are the odds? anyway, it gave him some best buy credit to go purchase the additional mike and guitar so that we can ALL play at the same time.

it’s gonna take some practice to actually BE awesome at it, and not just LOOK awesome at it… but i think we have that part down…don’t you?

concentration is the most important thing…

Alright, that’s all for Christmas.

Please please please everybody, wish me luck that i can handle these next two weeks of work, when all i really want to do is go home and get my list of stuff done… and yes, i have written it down. but i conveniently leave the list at work, or in my car once i get home so i can conveniently ignore it and sit on the couch… once i’m finished with work there really will be NO excuses left, and i’ll have to get my butt in gear.

also, let’s all cross our fingers for the 2 week mark!! Nick wants her to be born on his birthday, and i’d have to agree, that would be pretty awesome so, the 23rd is what we’re going for!! keep that date in all your heads and let’s MAKE IT HAPPEN!!!

WOOHOO!!!

MY Baby Shower

Let’s start with my baby shower…

The BEST SHOWER EVER!!!! you may think I’m exaggerating here, but if you do… then you must not have been there… I’m so sorry for you.

am i the only one who goes crazy over this punch? the lime green sherberty, bubbly concoction typically found only at showers and potlucks… mmm, so good.

my mom was kind enough to host the party at her house, already decorated for Christmas which made things even THAT much more awesome… while my beautiful sister orchestrated the rest of the party… she did a fabulous job

Here’s the onesie decorating room. i have more onesies than i think i will even be able to use now, seriously

check out the party favors!!!! that’s right, adorable little notepads with candy

and now…

brace yourself…

my loot pile:

holy crap. that’s all i have to say. i feel so loved

and we haven’t even TOUCHED on the food yet. We started out with Spicy Pickle sandwiches. Delicious!!

from there, the contributions just FLOWED in…

pate, thanks to my mom, because i asked for it and i LOVE IT!!… corn dip from Brooke, soooo goooood…. and baked potato dip from Carrie…. FREAKIN DELICIOUS!!

Kara truly outdid herself… carting a 1 month old, she also managed to provide cupcakes, and cake balls that were SOO ADORABLE! then, as a last minute hotel option, she brought shot glasses of 7 layer dip with chips… gah! (dont worry, i’ll come back to the 1 month old… tee hee!)

alyson also made little spirals… some of my favorites. and yummy pigs in a blanket, because we all have a little white trash in us, and anyone that tells me they don’t LOOOOVE these little guys is lying to my face and i pray you are struck down for your insubordination and denial.

who takes this kind of time and care on cupcakes i ask you??? KARA! that’s right.

and of course, a party isn’t a party without some booze… mimosa’s flowed freely… i only wish i could have partaken… *sigh*.

i did say i’d come back to the 1 month old, right?

oh isn’t she just the most precious thing you’ve ever seen in your life?!!!! in case the connection has been missed, this is the little bundle of joy who we all celebrated not too long ago in my blog about the shower i threw for Kara… Madeline

oh my goodness…

OH MY GOODNESS!!!! can you even stand it?!!! i might explode from the cuteness… watch out people.

i won’t bore you with all my gift opening… alyson planned a game of “gift bingo” to keep everyone from yawning and eventually expiring from the boredom of watching me unwrap presents forever. GENIUS alyson. Since you people don’t have those nifty bingo cards, suffice to say that i have the most wonderful friends in the world, and they have all spoiled me and little baby girl rotten, we have so much wonderful, gorgeous, thoughtful stuff now i hardly know how to say thank you!!

i WILL however display some of the awesome onesies that people came up with…

all in all an amazing success.

thanks to everybody that came, i had such a wonderful time!!! and thanks to my amazing friends for their help and contributions to the party… and of course, i LOVE my sister and my mom!!! thanks SO MUCH for the best party EVER!!!

Gingerbread Houses

Is there any more fun to be had than using massive quantities of candy in order to glue together MORE CANDY?!!!… i think not.

it’s an amazing time to be had. i haven’t made gingerbread houses in over a decade. (and by gingerbread, i mean of course graham crackers… those delightfully frustrating, fragile, often warped, look at them funny and they’ll break, perfect for gingerbread house base architecture crackers… so perfect in fact, i think i pulled my hair out in JOY over just how fantastic it feels to work with them as they crumble beneath your oh so gentle manipulation…)

our candy selection was impressive, i’m not going to lie…

My favorites:

mini M&M’s … make great christmas lights, berries for wreaths, etc. Perfect size for gingerbread house scale)
Pull & Peel Twizzlers… these things are awesome, they make rope that can be used just about anywhere and is fun and easy to work with, i love it love it love it.
Cinnamon Toast Crunch… makes excellent shingles.
Powdered Sugar… ok, i may have gone a little overboard at the very end with the powdered sugar, it just makes GREAT snow!! so, it started to look like a blizzard had swept through my neighborhood before i realized i needed to lay off the fluffy confectioners’ assault.

We only had a couple disasters. My dad’s house fell apart, and then Alyson’s followed suit… it was 2 mini-tragedies.

Troopers that they were though, they both picked up the shattered pieces of their pride, and started over. GO TEAM!

We have decided that there may be some improvements that we will incorporate in our approach next year… these include possibly all starting with empty boxes of graham crackers to build around for structure support (Alyson’s genius idea, following the demise of her first attempt)… we also have considered baking our own gingerbread in pieces that can then be glued together with royal icing with little-to-no engineering necessary on our parts… We’ve considered getting one of those freezing aerosol cans to blow on the icing to dry it faster… i think these things might help us in the long run, though they all will be taking away somewhat from the creativity that makes all of our designs so unique… different shapes, sizes, and decorating.

what do you think?

and the winner is….

ALYSON!!!! her recovery from her initial misfortune makes the success of her ultimate creation (middle house) that much more impressive.

also….

it was her birthday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALYSON!!! and congratulations on your big win,… until next year!

here she is about to enjoy the cupcakes i made her: Coconut Cupcakes with Pineapple Filling and Browned Butter Cream Cheese Frosting (needs a shorter name,… how about we call them Buttery Pina Colada… done and done)

Honorable Mentions:

Most Narrative:

Nick’s house included a mini-war being waged with unseen forces. A snowman army was created as a necessary response to the threat on his gingerbread house, and stationed like little sentinels in front of the door… they were outfitted with a cannon, for that final impenetrable touch.

The cannon, in all it’s peppermint patty glory….

sadly, even with the added reinforcements, there was a man lost… war isn’t pretty people.

Most Icing Used:

My dad’s response to his initial collapse was to make sure that barely a square inch of the cracker in his next attempt was visible under the onslaught of icing used to hold the unruly walls together. Congratulations Dad. I’m not sure that the “gingerbread” was even necessary… i have a feeling this house could have withstood the onslaught of Ike, with or without walls, once that sucker dried.

Most Intelligent Approach:

Ellen takes the prize for realizing in the beginning that “bigger is not always better”. She started small, and used her ambition on the exterior, rather than the construction. It paid off. No collapses for Ellen! And in the end, probably the most well put together, professional looking house that we had. GO ELLEN!

my FAVORITE part by far is the picket fence. Just lovely

Luckiest Architectural Success:

I’ll take the prize for my house, while overly ambitious in the size department, because it did NOT collapse people!!!! there were some tense moments, and the final product does have a pretty sad looking sagging wall, but it’s dry now, and it’s not movin’! GO ME! although next year, if we end up not using forms, i think i’ll take Ellen’s approach… the stress was almost too much to bear, as i watched my competitors one by one come crashing down…

also, i get kudos points for including the attic window from Christmas Vacation, AND coming up with the cinnamon toast shingle idea which was then stolen by all the copycats in the room.

We did NOT eat the gingerbread houses… i know that’s the next thing you were wondering. But we did have leftover candy, that i’m going to try to preserve until next year, when we can use it again candy like that lasts forever, right? plus, you’re not supposed to eat it anyway, this will just be that much more encouragement not to pop those mini m&m’s in my mouth as a reward after every structural accomplishment, with a little “go me!” in my head.

Merry Christmas!

32 weeks… counting down

i’m 32 weeks pregnant this week! very very exciting. we’re in the 10 week countdown, i’m getting anxious i’m trying to pace myself… we have 1 more birth class tomorrow, so that’s exciting. We’ve talked about all kinds of things, one of which was mental exhaustion… There’s a couple in our class who is having their second child… Their first labor was 52 hours….

…..

…..

yes. 52 hours.

…

OMG! OMG!! OMG!!!!!!!!!

can you EVEN IMAGINE?!!!

well, that was our assignment… to imagine. we were told, the best thing to do to avoid exhaustion, and mental defeat, is to prepare yourself for that 52 hour labor… Makes sense i think… Then, you have a 42 hour labor and you’re like “well, hell! that was a whole 10 hours faster than i was expecting!”… i guess that’s the theory, anyway :-p

but holy crap, 52 HOURS?!!! Lord help me…. i’m completely serious… PLEASE help me.

So… that said, in the spirit of not getting too anxious, i’m trying to prepare myself not to get too excited right off the bat when i go into labor. They say the best thing you can do is sleep as much as possible in the beginning… sounds impossible, but we’ll see.

lately the baby’s been moving around A LOT!!! she resembles quite eerily a cute little alien, squirming to get out. i like to think she’s dancing to whatever song is playing in my head i just hope she remembers she needs to come into this world in a very specific way,… and that does NOT include a dramatic scene where she pops out of my stomach, growing at an exponential rate and rampaging through the ship, killing all of my crew members… mmmkay?

sooo…. here’s what she looks like this week!!!! roughly 3.75 lbs, the size of a jicama (i love jicama, a severely underutilized vegetable if you ask me…)

cute, huh??? well, I THINK SO!!! and here SHE is, her 3D debut!!!! our precious little booger face

i just love her so much already.

i can’t WAIT to meet her!!! … nick thinks i’m crazy, but i really think she looks like him… which i love

and here i am, in my pretty holiday party dress, that looks suspiciously like a set of vintage curtains on camera… hmm.

and, as you can see, we did get the Christmas tree and decorations up!!! GO US!!!!

took us awhile, but it’s done, and i LOVE IT!!! i just love holiday decorations… they make me smile. Bronx and hollow helped… well, bronx helped, hollow just admired the tree…

Isn’t this a gorgeous family??? You’re jealous, admit it

and, to wrap up this post,….

nick in his “long johns” (aka, my yoga pants that he steals to wear under his work clothes to stay warm during the day :-p along with his work socks… alyson calls it his riding habit.)… putting on the angel!

a job well done Merry Christmas everybody!!!!!

enjoy.

Thanksgiving Perspective

Another Thanksgiving is complete.  Fair weather relatives have come and gone.  Refrigerator’s are full with leftover turkey and stuffing and people are beginning to stir from their food comas to set up Christmas decorations and find as many bargains as possible at the local retail stores.

If you read my previous post you know that the days leading up to Thanksgiving were hectic, to say the least, both personally and professionally.  However, I recall during that Monday through Wednesday, as I struggled to meet deadlines and fight to the death over canned pumpkin, feeling a sense of dread at the prospect of attending yet another festive Thanksgiving at the homes of my wife’s relatives.  My relationship with her parents and immediately family is superb, but beyond that, as with many families, awkward interactions, stress, and surface tension are the only result when her extended family arrives.  I tend to shy away from socially active people and situations for the most part, but I never feel such an aversion to such circumstances as when Thanksgiving and Christmas arrives.  This was not always the case.  I considered the reasons for such a fairly adolescent, juvenile  reaction to these festive occasions and landed on one that I believe most people can relate to.  

I’m an adult.  I lost sight of the fact that I experienced the majority of past Thanksgivings and Christmases as a child.  I saw much of it through rose colored glasses, largely unaware of family tension and secret dislikes certain relatives had for other relatives.  But does becoming an adult mean we forget childish things?  Yes….sort of.  I don’t want to forget, nor do I think I should have to forget, the innocent, welcoming perspective of the kid in a candy store or the happily naive 10 year old running down the steps to open presents.  I want the excitement and exhilaration of family and friends.  Certainly some of those feelings will subside because it is not practical or even possible to recall those emotions when the stress, both familial and occupational, bear down on you.  The concept remains though, however fleeting, and I strive to remove it from the conceptual realm of wants and wishes and make it a reality.  But how?  By doing what everyone tells you do to this time of year.  Remember and be thankful.  In that vain, the following is what I remember of past Thanksgivings:

(1)  My parents.

 

I remember my mother and father every day.  Not only because their pictures clutter my desk, but because their memory clutters my brain.  It will take many more years to organize the clutter, but I’m thankful that the clutter is there at all.  I’m disappointed that I did not know them better, but I’m thankful for what I do know and what I can interpret from various pictures and memories.  So who were they you ask?  Well….

             (a)  My Dad.  

My dad was like most dads that you hear about.  He was caring and loving and kind.  He controlled his temper until he needed to and the quieter he became, the more trouble you were in.  He was special in that even seeing him Wednesdays and every other weekend, he was still always around.  We talked in the evenings and mowed the lawn on the weekends.  He labored at an occupation he didn’t particularly care for and engaged in various activities of which I only later discovered he didn’t really like (i.e. baseball) for the sake of his family.  He taught me how to tie a tie and how to swim.  He taught me to appreciate the outdoors with walks in the woods, hiking in New Mexico, skiing in Colorado, and scuba diving in Belize.  He taught me discipline by having me mow the lawn and punishing me for poor scholastic efforts.  He taught me love through his actions and the importance of family every year by dragging us to Papa and Jane’s house every year.

 

He was young once, which is what I often wonder about.  What was he like?  What did he do?  Who was he?  I’ll never really know now, but from pictures and vague recollections, I think he was pretty fucking awesome. I submit the above and following photographic account as proof:

(that’s my dad on the left).  Now, you cannot expect too much of one person.  It is difficult and probably too much to ask for one man to be free spirited, athletic, disciplined, and the poster boy for GQ all at once.  And yet…..

But how is he with kids and family?  Sure it’s easy to be young and devoted to yourself and achieving your own goals, but try raising a family Mr. Fancy Pants.  Oh wait…what’s this??

Well, that’s all well and good, but the true test and one everyone fails is rallying the troops.  When a task appears impossible, how do you get them to believe?  How do you make them see that the impossible is possible?  For example, if someone gave you an inflatable killer whale and said “You cannot fit three people on this toy…maximum is two” how do you get your followers to believe?  I don’t know how he did it, but not only did he do it, but he was wise enough to get photographic evidence for posterity.

              (b)  My Mom.  My mother was equally as amazing, but in a very different way.  She loved me and protected me every day.  There was a different kind of pressure putting up with me almost every night of the week and weekend.  She didn’t teach me any less than my father did and she loved me more than anyone ever has.  This was due in large part because she had me most of the time.  She took me to school, baseball practice, piano lessons, and detention whenever necessary.  She quit her job to be home when I got home after school.  She cooked dinner, breakfast, washed my clothes, worried about me when I stayed out late and cheered for me with every exam I took.  She helped with my homework and constructively criticized when necessary.  We did not get to go on vacations with her except to see our family in other cities.

 

She rubbed my head when I was stressed and was there every time I failed.  I think that’s what made it hard the first few years after death when I graduated from Trinity and eventually obtained my law degree.  The woman who supported me through every failure wasn’t there to see the result of her efforts.  Now,I later came to realize that  she was there and is happier where she is, but man it would be nice to see her maybe ONE more time?  But perhaps you’re once again doubting the spectacular creature that was my mother.  Not a problem.  I have further photographic evidence for your review.

Ok, so the smoking I could do without, but everyone has their vices. Besides, how can you doubt grover?

That may not be my mom’s arm, but it is for the sake of this post and the person I remember most putting that puppet on.  

And for those parents wondering how to keep your child in one place when they’re getting too rambunctious, think outside the box.  If you do, you’ll find that a laundry basket is not just a laundry basket.

In addition, she’s available on any occasion for parties and get-togethers for a very reasonable price.

More importantly, she was there for every occasion.

My parents taught me how to appreciate the holidays and I kind of forgot how.  So, sorry mom and dad and that’s why I’m thankful this year.

Thanksgiving 1 Nick 0

“Don’t stop…believin’….HOLD ON TO THAT FEEEELIIINN’…street lights, people…*riiing* Hello?”  

“Hey honey, it’s Adryan…will you do me a huuuge favor?”

“Sure sweetie,  what’s up?”

“I need to bake lemon bars and a spice cake for Thanksgiving, but I have yet to get and will not have time to get the supplies for it.  Would you be able to stop by the store at some point after work and  do it?” 

“Yeah, sure, just send me the list and I’ll pick them up on my way home today.”

That’s how innocent my adventure started.  Singing Journey on my way to get lunch and my lovely, pregnant wife makes what appears, on the surface, to be a simple request.  A request that’s been made many times before, in fact.  Just stop off on the way home to pick up baking supplies.  Super, I’m on it.  What she fails to reveal and what my naive male mind does not realize or comprehend is that the baking aisle of any store, much less a newly constructed HEB, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving is a lot like walking into the seventh circle of hell except instead of filthy demons surrounding you, feasting on your soul, it’s soccer moms and girlfriends  overflowing with anxiety, rage, and baking ideas as the panic of Thanksgiving, in-laws, and football descends on them like a category five hurricane.  One high strung, frenzied, hysteria driven mother is one thing, a whole storeful packed into one aisle?  Let the games begin.

So, here I am, an innocent lamb going to slaughter.  A naive young sheep who doesn’t know what’s in store for him.  One small advantage I thought I had was that I know this HEB.  I know exactly where the baking aisle is and I know where, on the baking aisle, to find the items on my list.  It doesn’t matter folks.  Hell hath no fury like…a woman baking?  One good decision I made was to pick up everything else first.  I threw some cream cheese into my cart and some eggs and milk.  Check, check, check.  Doing well, everything is on track.  As I’m gathering these preliminary items I have a vague sense of a crowd gathered several aisles away.  I think to myself “Huh, glad I’m not on THAT aisle” before checking milk off of my list.

“Ok…and just pecans, flour, and canned pumpkin left…where is the baking aisle.”  I form a map of the store in my head…”Ok, I’m on aisle 2, the baking aisle is just….” And then it hits me.  The baking aisle is four or five aisles away, which is where the crowd was forming and…I slowly peak my head from around the chips.  The crowd has gotten larger, words are being exchanged, elbows are being thrown, small children are getting trampled.  I pull my head safely back into aisle 2 fearful that just making eye contact will draw me into the scrum.  I look around, panicked.  I take two deep breaths and relax. I’m a tax attorney.  I help businessmen close business deals and avoid paying thousands in income tax.  I need three items from the baking aisle at the local supermarket.  Suck it up Nick.  I take another deep breath and exit Aisle 2, my steps still hesitant; my body following my feet, which are trying to urge me in the other direction.  I draw closer to the baking aisle.  I hear screams.  I peak my head into the fire.

Damn you pregnant lady.  You knew didn’t you?  DIDN’T YOU?!?!?  I relax and try to erase those thoughts from my head and concentrate.  It’s time to focus.  ”Have a purpose” my dad would say before we ventured through the perfume section of the mall.  Don’t get distracted.  Remember why you’re there.  I look down the aisle as someone’s leg flies passed my face and two sweet little grandma’s take to arms over the last of the vanilla extract.  I form a plan of action.  I’ll pass the flour first, the pecans next and then the pumpkin.  1….2…..3….GO!  I march forward three steps before being blind-sided by  a very large woman with a child in one arm, cake in the other and a wild-eyed stare as she lumbers towards the chocolate chips.  I can only imagine what she’s baking and what she’s going to do with it afterwards.

I quickly recover, side step a slew of bloody limbs, do a quick bob and weave and scoop up the flour as I focus in on the pecans just three shelves over on the other side.  I start to move towards the pecans when…”POW!”  I’m hit!  Everything is fuzzy…cloudy…and just a little bit sweet.  I’ve been hit with three bags of powdered sugar as the two sweet little grandma’s have taken to hand to hand combat, grabbing whatever baking items they can off the shelves for defense.  I fight the white haze of sugar and take two more steps towards the pecans and fall to my knees as a six year old pounds my knee with a can of evaporated milk so her mother can take the last of the pumpkin.  My heart sinks.  With no pumpkin my mission is futile.  Who cares if I get the pecans.  She can’t make the dessert without canned pumpkins. I duck as a pair of kitchen shears flies passed my face into the throat of an innocent stock boy.  I bend down to try and help, but he shakes his head “No” and mouths “Save yourself” before placing something in my hand.  It’s a bag of pecans, the outside bloodied from his fatal wound.  How he knew what I needed I still can’t fathom, but his bravery and courage under fire renewed my sense of destiny.

 I was going to find pumpkin somewhere even if I had to steal it from someone’s cart.  I look behind the other canned items, hoping perhaps a canned pumpkin rolled to the rear of the shelf.  Nothing.  I quickly scan the baskets and carts flowing passed me, ready to swipe a couple of loosely packed cans of pumpkin at a moment’s notice.  Nothing.  This is impossible.  No pumpkin on the shelves and no pumpkin in anyone’s baskets?  I try and think…where am I going to find cans of pumpkin?  Just then a bright light shone down from the ceiling of HEB like a great spotlight.  I followed its beam as it is showered over a young employee carrying two cases of canned pumpkin.

 

He walks meekly down the aisle towards the open space in the shelves. The other shoppers stop.  Silence ensues as they begin to circle their prey.  An injured deer limping helplessly towards a pond as a pack of wild dogs slowly haunt its shadow.  The other shoppers’ eyes focus in on the fresh meat…pumpkin being served to them on a silver platter.  They begin to drool and pick their teeth with the bones of their previous victims.  The soft clang of a salvation army bucket rolls to a stop next to my feet as the body of its owner falls beside me.  The poor santa needed just one more dollar before calling it quits for the night, instead the melee that is HEB during thanksgiving claimed another life. I concentrate on the stock boy.  We make eye contact and I see the fear in his eyes.  He places one can on the shelf and the beasts surrounding him, dressed in festive sweaters and their best make up, take a collective step towards him.  Another can…another step.  As he begins to unload the third can and place it on the shelf I intercept it and toss it in my basket, not even thinking.  ”I just need one more I say.”  The boy is trembling with fear, but he manages to shakily grab another can and hand it to me when a giant she-wolf steps in between us.  We both freeze.  We both recognize it as the worst kind of she-wolf.  It’s attractive with blond hair and blue eyes and nothing but the basest of instincts between her ears.  She knows she’s an attractive beast and is used to getting her way.  

She puts her perfectly manicured fingers on the can of pumpkin being handed to me.  ”Tee hee, I just need four cans.”  She gives me and the stock boy a sweet little grin that’s probably been used for centuries to devour unsuspecting, hormone driven men.  She’s mistaken me for a makeshift stock boy and placed me in the category of victim.  What she fails to realize, as I did earlier, is that this is Thanksgiving, hooker; I’m not a stock boy; and I’m one can short of getting the fuck out of here.  She begins to pull the can back towards her cart, my hand still attached before I yank it out of her hands and throw it in my cart.  ”I just needed two” I reply and give her a sweet smile of my own before making a terrible mistake…I turn my back to leave.  What’s the harm?  I’m finished and there is plenty of pumpkin left for her.  I glance back and watch in amazement as that sweet little, get-me-anything-I-want grin fades into the angry, sneer of a wounded she-beast.

I quickly realize my mistake and begin tearing items off of the shelves, hurling them at the pumpkin whore beast.  She waves them away like so many mosquitos on a summer evening.  Her tentacles curl around my throat causing me to drop my basket, I grasp thin air as it yanks me back towards its jaws.  This is it.  I’m going to die in HEB two days before Thanksgiving.  The young stock boy empties the cases of pumpkin on the shelves and hurries back to the safety of the ice cream section, knocking over  a butcher knife on his way out.  My fingers just barely reach the handle of the blade and I manage somehow to tear open the packaging.  ”Saved” I think as I raise it above my head and jab it aggressively into the belly of the beast.  Nothing.  I do it again and again, still being dragged towards it’s open jaws.  Still nothing.  I see my reflection in the steel and am aghast at the dark red complexion.  I can’t hold on much longer.  Just then a lighting bolt of an idea hits me.  ”That’s it” I think to myself.  My eyes search the shelves frantically.  I have seconds to live.  I spy a large metal baking sheet and will my fingers around the end of it.  I turn my body to face the hideous she-wolf slut beast and hold up the baking sheet.  The grip around my throat loosens and the tentacle falls to the floor.  It worked.  I quickly grab my basket and briefly glance back as the bimbo creature continues to admire its own reflection.  I’ve slayed the beast.

 

I check out as quickly as I can suffering just three stab wounds and a gun shot wound to the left shoulder.  I limp to the car and slowly crawl home, dousing my wounds with flour for clotting.  I survived Thanksgiving week shopping.  I can only imagine the aftermath.

Wednesday evening arrives and my wife begins to bake.  It was all worth it, I think.  She’ll make the desserts and we’ll be heroes at the party.   She finished preparing the lemon bars and moves on to the pumpkin spice cake.  ”Oh, poop” she says, “We don’t have enough eggs.  Well, I just won’t make the pumpkin spice cake.”  My body freezes as I watch her place my hard earned canned pumpkin in the pantry.  ”But…” I stop mid-sentence.  My knees buckles and I collapse on the floor in defeat.  HEB won again.