Birthday perks

The great thing about being married to the birthday boy is that you get to enjoy all of the day's perks without being a year older. In our household, Matt's birthday celebration kicked off just minutes after I blogged Monday night, when we prematurely treated ourselves to a generous slice of cake. It's so much better when it's warm that it would have been a shame to save ALL of it for breakfast the next day.

Tuesday morning Claire helped me with the finishing touches (sprinkles) and then our whole family dug in, no one more enthusiastically than Evan. I made sure to wipe the kids' faces really well before school that morning. It's one thing to show up at 8:30 a.m. with traces of oatmeal or toothpaste around the edge of your mouth, but responsible teachers might frown upon evidence of chocolate cake.

For lunch the greater Kirby crew went to Mellow Mushroom, where we had the whole outdoor seating area to ourselves, so the kids didn't have to sit still or be particularly quiet while we waited for our food. Then for dinner Matt and I got a babysitter and went to a frugalish dinner at Ashten's. Through a Restaurant.com deal improved by my (waning) affiliation with Demand Studios we bought three $25 gift cards for $2 each awhile back, and this was the perfect chance to use one of them.

We claimed a couch and ate and drank and talked for a lovely couple of hours. In that time I realized I now hate light beer. I ordered a Michelob Ultra out of habit and I could not finish it because it tasted so watered-down. Matt has always said that and I have always responded by accusing him of being a beer snob. I think he felt vindicated and proud. We don't do birthday presents, but this was probably a good substitute. He's turned me on to IPAs lately and I don't know that there's any going back.

We ended the night by finishing most of our Christmas shopping and then having a two-person wrapping party for our kids from Amanda's Angel Tree (not too late to participate, people! Click here).


Before reading our book club's November selection, "The Man Who Was Thursday," by G.K. Chesterton, I knew of Chesterton only because he's credited with a quotation I once ran across and liked enough to write in my handy-dandy quote-noting book: "I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."

"Happiness doubled by wonder" pretty well describes how I feel to be living life as Matt's right-hand woman. Happy 33rd birthday, babe.


"It may be conceded to the mathematicians that four is twice two. But two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one. That is why, in spite of a hundred disadvantages, the world will always return to monogamy." - Chesterton, "The Man Who Was Thursday"

P.S. And one more from the same book, because it's good enough to be included with no relevance whatsoever to this post:

"Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front ..."

A notable night

I made this dip for Evan's party Saturday and a couple of people asked for the recipe. You'll love it or hate it. I love it. Libba introduced us to it last year when she brought it as an appetizer to a spur-of-the-moment "dinner party" at our house.

I remember the night well because it's the night Meg removed a Swaddle Me blanket from her child so I could wrap it around my own flailing, screaming one. My sanity was hanging on by a hair at that point, and the discovery of a swaddling blanket with Velcro helped save it.

That also is the night it clicked for Matt and me that dinner parties really are about the company and conversation; if those are high-quality, the food you serve hardly matters. That particular evening, if I recall correctly, we dined on leftovers from Meg and Drew's fridge. (Meg's a great cook, by the way, and even her leftovers are a treat.) In our harried state as sleep-deprived parents of a newborn and a 1-year-old, our small epiphany came as quite a relief. Because we were in no shape to try to impress anyone.

Back to the dip. I know I just said the food doesn't matter, but on the other hand, discovering a delicious new recipe is never a bad thing. I got Libba's recipe as soon as possible and have made this dip many times since. Here is our slightly modified version:

Mix together:
2 green apples, chopped (I leave the peel on because it's my favorite part of the apple)
1 4- or 5-ounce tub of crumbled blue cheese
4 heaping tablespoons of mayonnaise
Lemon juice to taste
Black pepper to taste
Cayenne pepper to taste
(Celery and pecans are optional. They were not in the version at Evan's party.)

Cover and let sit in the refrigerator a couple of hours, if possible, before serving; it's better when the flavors have meshed. I've tried this with many types of crackers, and they're all good.

Coke-less

I think enough time has passed that I can safely announce I've given up soft drinks. Probably not forever, because I'm not always great with commitments unless I believe they really matter, but I have not had a soft drink in about a month and so far I'm feeling good about it.

I'm kind of in crisis about the way I eat and feed my family in general, actually, thanks to watching too many documentaries (particularly "Food Inc.") and writing too many nutrition-oriented articles. I plan to write about all this in more depth at some point but right now I'm trying to sift through all the information out there and figure out what's factual, what's propaganda, and what it all might mean for our family.

That's not a post for tonight, though. It feels like Thursday already, and if not for NaBloPoMo I would be headed for bed right now.

My decision to eliminate soft drinks required no research. I've always drunk way too much Coke despite knowing how bad it is for me. One day about a month ago I just decided that was dumb. I now drink even more coffee in the morning, maybe sweet tea or orange juice at lunch, and lots of water throughout the day. I love love LOVE Coke, but it has no redeeming qualities. The truth hurts.

Good times

For several months after Claire was born, we were on time or early everywhere because we allowed so much extra time to get out the door. Now we're more efficient -- we know how long it takes to warm a bottle, that a bath can be replaced by scented lotion, and that extra diapers are already in the diaper bag.

Also, we've recently discovered that if Claire wakes up at 6:30 a.m. ready to face the day, we can put her in bed with us and feed her and she'll sleep with us basically however much longer we want. That is lovely knowledge, and surely a terrible habit to encourage, but I'll take sleep at almost any cost right now.

As a result of all of this, we're back to being five minutes behind most of the time. I didn't care for punctuality anyway. I found that most other people were running late, too.

Maybe, just maybe, we've hit upon a system that works for church with Claire. We leave her in nursery during Sunday school, when she's rested, full and ready to play. She's great for that hour, and we can enjoy Sunday school -- the current series on the pragmatics of our worship, taught by our new senior pastor, is fantastic. Then we pull her out and keep her with us during worship, give her a bottle at the first sign of fussiness and let her sleep away the rest of the service.

The alternative, just leaving her in nursery until she started screaming for her nap, was much less preferable because once she's worked up it's hard for even me to calm her down -- it's always better to feed her and get her to sleep before she realizes that's what she needs. But this way Matt and I get at least some time in church without worrying about whether she's about to blow, and she gets to practice being comfortable with people who aren't me and Matt. Which is a skill we like to encourage.

Hooray for a short work week (for those with jobs) and lots of family and out-of-town friends time this week! Lauren W., Betsy, Todd and Rhonda and Ronnie and her meatballs and Sallie and Steven (I will call you tomorrow about that, Sallie) and maybe others ... can't wait!

Getting better all the time

I may have to cut this short -- Claire's still asleep but starting to squirm, so I'm working on borrowed time -- but I might as well do what I can. This week has been much better than last week, baby-wise. Most importantly, her nighttimes have been consistently good. Not perfect -- she still has trouble settling down to sleep when we first put her down, and, not surprisingly, she's still waking up at least every three hours for food most nights -- but we haven't pulled anything close to an all-nighter in more than a week. It's amazing to me what an effect sleep deprivation has on my mood, attitude and general emotional stability.

This is one of just a couple of periods in my life -- maybe the only one besides when Mom was recovering from her liver transplant -- when people's encouragement has really meant a lot to me. Don't get me wrong, encouragement is always nice. But for the past four weeks I have been soaking up and clinging to other parents' promises, perspective and empathy: "The first couple of months are really tough, but just wait until she smiles at you." "I remember feeling exactly like that. It does get better, and you'll barely remember this part." "The laundry can wait; she won't snuggle with you forever." Et cetera. Thank you to all of you who have been vital to my sanity. You know who you are!

Last Thursday we made the switch to Bum Genius one-size diapers -- cloth diapering for lazy parents. I think we received 11 of these as gifts and they are wonderful! I have just enough to make it through a 24-hour period before washing them. I'm contemplating buying enough for a two-day supply. I'd still probably wash every day, at least until she stops pooping multiple times a day, but I'd be able to hang them outside to dry, eliminating the dryer and saving money and electricity. I think they're a great investment because they're adjustable and in theory should fit her until she's potty trained. With luck we can even use them on future kids. But don't worry, we're not forcing them on babysitters. :)

Speaking of babysitters, tonight Matt and I are celebrating the four-week mark with a date! MANY thanks to Brie, who somehow made me feel like I was doing her a favor by "letting" her keep Claire. Quite the opposite! It will just be dinner, squeezed in (like everything) between feedings, but I can't wait.

And speaking of feedings, another major reason I'm feeling so much saner this week is that I've been able to start storing a decent amount of breast milk, which means there is plenty available for someone else to feed Claire if I'm not around. For the first few weeks I was discouraged about storing milk because every time I pumped, she seemed to wake up and want to eat, and because I was drained we'd end up having to give her a bottle of what I'd just pumped. At least it got her used to the bottle, but we weren't storing any milk.

Then Matt suggested I try pumping just an ounce or two at a time, several times during the day, instead of a whole bottle at once. It works like a charm. It takes almost no time, I still have plenty to feed her directly if she happens to be hungry immediately afterward, and now we can freeze about a bottle a day plus have a fresh bottle or two in the fridge. It is such a relief to not necessarily be the sole source of food for this girl!

Finally, I have been able to run a few times in the past week -- just on the treadmill so far because of scheduling difficulties -- and it has been wonderful. More than one person told me I'd probably pee all over myself but I'm pleased to report that was not the case. Running really does great things for the psyche.

Claire is still asleep, but this is too long already. Oh, but one more thing I wanted to mention -- several friends have started blogs recently and this makes me very happy! They're really good, too, so visit, and leave comments, because maybe this will inspire them to keep writing. :) The newbies are Brooke, Kylie, Lauren W. (formerly known as Lauren R.) and Sallie. OK, now I'm out.

A tip

Since I've taken to sleeping with my head under a sheet the past three nights (to protect against roaches that might try to crawl into my mouth or nose) I have been reminded that oxygen deprivation causes headaches.

For a while during college I was in the habit of sleeping with a pillow over my head and I also was waking up with headaches every day. I'm pretty susceptible to headaches from a variety of causes (dehydration, not enough sleep, too much sugar, not enough caffeine, stress, waiting too long to eat, etc.) so I never connected the dots.

Then one day I was watching the evening news and there happened to be a segment about the fact that a lot of people have headaches due to oxygen deprivation during sleep. I immediately got rid of the pillow over my head and the morning headaches have been gone ever since ... until this week ...

However, would you rather risk a roach on your face or a headache?

Re-evaluation

This morning I had an epiphany, which was: I do not need to be training for another marathon right now.

I was driving all over town, dropping off keys, picking up contracts, taking down signs, collecting checks. Every five seconds my phone rang, and twice it died in the middle of a conversation because I have talked all the life out of my battery and it no longer holds much of a charge. I was making a to-do list on a Subway napkin, but little snippets of to-dos kept crossing my mind and then disappearing before I could add them. I understood the saying "... like a chicken with his head cut off."

I was tired and I was fighting the cold that's been lingering all week. I started to note that I needed to call Katie to schedule tomorrow's 14-mile run, in accordance with the marathon training plan. Then I thought, why in the world am I doing that?

We work a lot of weekends, so Saturdays spent sleeping in with Matt, then hanging out with him, are precious to me. Waking up at 6 a.m. then running for two hours then eating oatmeal while reading the newspaper alone then crawling, sweaty, back into bed just isn't the same. I do not intend to do that every weekend between now and November just so I can prove something to myself.

There is no way to train for a marathon without logging a heck of a lot of hours and miles every week. As in, I might as well get a part-time job. In my busyness-infested life, a new time-consuming goal is the last thing I need.

It took me about three minutes this morning to think the above thoughts and decide, yeah, I absolutely am taking a pass on this one. Quality of life for me, right now, does not mean a personal record in the marathon.

No new car for me?

All this talk of a new car for Matt was starting to make me want a new car of my own, and I had almost justified it in my head. After all, my car's been through a lot too. It has 135,000 miles on it at only 8 years old, has been repainted twice, and has numerous minor dings plus one torn-up front left bumper. (My fault, tall curb.) Its GPS system is broken, the AC is starting to lose its kick, and it won't play made CDs, which are my favorite kind.

Anyway, yesterday I dropped it off for an oil change because it was 11,000 miles past due. (First I took off the sticker from the last oil change -- which was done in October -- because I was ashamed for the mechanic to see it.) This was not my usual oil-changer; I went to one that was nearby and quick so I could have it done during lunch with no hassle.

When I paid I found out that this place gives you a free car wash with every oil change, so I drove through the car wash. Just a quickie, but it helped a lot. Meanwhile I noticed they had also vacuumed the floors and wiped down my dashboard and console after changing the oil. Nice!

Then I took a closer look at my invoice and saw that they had recommended flushing my radiator fluid and changing my air filter. I thought that could be a key to improving my AC and might even make my "maintenance required" light go off (right on both counts). So I went back inside, gave them the keys again and read outside for half an hour.

As I drove back to the office in my shiny, clean car, with frigid air blowing on my face (but with the sunroof open too because I like the ambiance), I started to love my car again. That's when I realized I don't need a new car. I just need to keep mine clean!