…and we’re back.

Little Eazy-E was a champ on the flight home.


If anyone looks like he could use some help it’s Dad.

HH will not let him go, to the point that it’s kind of an issue.  He can’t be in the room without her wanting to feed him or hug him or put a blanket on him or honk his nose.  But better that than the alternative.  She is honestly so happy to have her brother here.


Not sure if the feeling is reciprocated.  (And her hair.  Seriously.)

Paul is already back at work, and we’re just adjusting to life with a +1.  More to come later.


Another kind of two


On Monday we flew up to Oregon and made the drive from Portland to Bend.  And on Friday, after two days in the hospital, we left with this guy.


Due to some scheduling snafus, we spent a few days hanging out in Bend before the birth.


It could have been worse.  Bend is full of trails and microbreweries.  When things got particularly stressful, I walked out our front door and went for a run…


…then drank a beer.  Like I said, could have been worse.

Now we are hanging out in Oregon, waiting for all the paperwork to be processed so we can cross state lines and bring our newest edition home to meet our oldest addition.


I am really looking forward to it.  Like, seriously.

The adoption was a journey, and we are very excited to get home.  More on that later. But in the meantime, we’re going to go for walks, enjoy some brews, and spend some QT together before we become a chaotic clan of four.


…I mean five.  Depending on how you count.


Lessons Learned

imageThe past two weeks is the worst I’ve been at writing.  Ever.  When I am tired, it is hard to write.  A few other lessons learned the past few weeks:

  1. Do NOT listen to the This American Life episode about hospice while on a run.  I honest to god thought that I was having sudden onset of exercise-induced asthma because I really COULD. NOT. BREATHE.  …when I realized I was just getting choked up.
  2. Videos of baby elephants and their mothers make me cry a little bit.
  3. I should probably not watch Barbara Walters’ final day on The View where they brought in all of the other women anchors into the room so they could tell her what a huge legacy she has if I don’t want to embarrass myself by tearing up.
  4. When at a wedding I should head to the bar during the father/daughter mother/son dance because if I don’t I will cry and it will destroy my makeup.
  5. Weaning the baby might be messing with my hormones.

Update soon.

Green Tomatoes

Or: Reasons Why It Doesn’t Completely Suck to Go Back To Work:IMG_20131022_093613
Green tomatoes from my coworker (because before I left for maternity leave I was talking about how I wanted to make fried green tomatoes.)   Nice.

I used to hate this door.  I made fun of it regularly and often talked about putting a picture of Spike on there.  I didn’t understand why I had to be assaulted by everyone’s grandbaby pictures every time I went into the kitchen.

But then I came back from being gone and someone in the office had printed a monster sized picture of my baby’s head and stuck it in the middle of the door.  Hammerhead dominates the kitchen door. Anybody going into the kitchen is totally assaulted by her 10-minute-old face.  Now I hate it less.  I actually kind of love it.


Oh hey there XXX cubetree, nice to see you again.

And finally, I had never realized how enjoyable it can be listening to music and filing 2 months worth of emails uninterrupted.  I really appreciated that on Monday.  It’s since lost a little bit of its shine, but still.  Uninterrupted time is nice.

…and with that, week #1 DONE.  Happy weekend!

Lactation Station

Breastfeeding is kind of weird.   Pumping is weirder.  Pumping in the office because you went back to work before the baby is eating regular food is weirdest.

But thanks to some pushing from my boss, my employer is providing me with a room where I can pump (or, as our (male) HR manager refers to it, a “lactation station”.  Said in all seriousness.)

Our office is in a big building.  My firm is on the 4th floor.  The room is on the 7th.  So yesterday I was handed a key, taken up to the empty 7th floor, and led to a nondescript door.


We opened the door.


This is not just a room(/station).  It’s an entire office suite.  A completely empty office suite.  With lots of empty rooms.


Random, abandoned furniture and books (including Dallas Cowboys: The Authorized Pictorial History).  Holes in the ceiling.  Holes in the wall.  Plaster peeling off the walls, littering the ground.

It is very empty and potentially really creepy.  Especially the sink.


And not because it looks like you might get tetanus from touching the sink, but because there is a huge hole in the ceiling right above where you stand to wash your hands.  And yesterday, as I was rinsing out the equipment, I heard this scratching/thumping noise coming from inside the ceiling.  Right above my head.

I couldn’t tell if it was something happening on another floor, or a huge rat (or person) about to launch an aerial attack through the car-sized hole.  (I don’t know why it is that every time I hear an unidentified noise anywhere I assume it’s something coming to attack me. But I do.  Especially when I’m in a locked room on an abandoned floor far from anybody who might hear my screams.)

Nothing happened.  This time.  I brought my mace today.

HOWEVER!  In the room that I actually pump in, there is a really nice view aaand…


…a couch.  And after getting a feel of what my sleep patterns might be over the next few months….heeeeelllooooo lactation station.



Just kidding!  I love October!  It’s fall!  Who doesn’t love fall?  It means football.  Pumpkin beer.  Nice weather. Keeneland!  What isn’t to like.  Except this year it does mean…

20 days until I go back to work.  20 days until I don’t spend every second with this thing.


Here’s to hoping we can nail down a sleep schedule in the next 20 days.  Ha.

Also, in case you missed it, a new world record was set at the Berlin Marathon this weekend.  2:03:23, breaking the old record by 15 seconds.  (If you’re wondering, that’s averaging 4:42/mile.  What.  The.  Eff.)

The Science of Sport was tweeting a real time analysis of the race.  Seriously amazing.

Speaking of schmucks, ignore the dude promoting a prostitution website who jumped in front of Kipsang at the marathon, broke the tape, and ruined the finish line pic.


Like, really.

waking up


When it’s 2am and my alarm goes off, again, to wake her up for another feeding, and it’s like the MOST PAINFUL THING EVER to open my eyes and drag myself into an upright position, when I pick her up and unwrap her from her swaddle…


TOUCHDOOOOWN!  Every time.

Is this by design?  I mean, she’s 6 lbs.  How can you stay angry?

P.S.  Speaking of waking up, or a re-awakening of some part of my pre-baby life, had a doctor appointment yesterday, got the OK to run and swim again.  Like, woah.  Excitement.

Happiest Lady On the Block

20130912_195429going for a walk

A few big events that happened this week that will most likely effect you not at all:

  1. Munchkinhead had a weigh in on Weds with a goal of 6 lbs 5 oz (which would mean she had gained an ounce a day over the past week.)  She weighed in at 6 lbs 8.5 oz.  That is a 10oz gain in 7 days.  Freaking.  A.   And as fun as overachieving is, the real reason that this is exciting is because it means…
  2. We can start feeding her EVERY 4 HOURS AT NIGHT.  Praise be.  Which meant…
  3. Last night she only woke up once to eat.  And let me tell you, there is nothing more beautiful than 3 straight hours of uninterrupted sleep.  Holy crap, I feel amazing.
  4. It is currently 65 degrees outside with no humidity.   Hello, fall.  So nice to see you.

Put your walking (hopefully soon running) shoes on…it’s time to break out the BOB and hit the road.  To quote a friend, heaven is a Kentucky fall day.


Happy Friday.


IMG_20130905_203636oh heeeeey

So, obviously I lied.  More on the baby was not coming sooner.  It was coming much later.

I may have started making to-do lists that extend beyond getting out of my pajamas at some point during the day, but that doesn’t mean any of it actually gets done.  Ever.

So, babycakes has been a little slow gaining weight.

IMG_20130905_134211_264teeny tiny

Nothing terrible, but she’s a little behind the curve, which means we are on a strict feeding regimen.

So I feed.  Then pump.  Then supplement her with the pumped milk.  Then feed and feed and feed some more.  Then pump.  Every 2.5 hours.  Which, when you take into account that each feeding/pumping session takes about an hour, means max 90 minutes free in between at a time. All day.  And night.  YEAH.  (Though during the day, she has been demanding food every hour and a half or so.  I have no idea how a creature that small, with a stomach the size of an almond, can consume that much liquid.)

20130901_110358if only cupcakes were an option

Initially I was like, man, maternity leave is going to be AWESOME.  I’ll get up in the morning, we’ll go for long walks and get coffee, I’ll have extra time to read and blog and be productive…until I realized that if I want to get coffee, that means I have to want to stay awake.  Which so far I have not.  And if I want to go for a long walk the baby has to be cool not eating on demand every hour or so.  Which she isn’t.  And blogging/being productive requires (at least a few) neurons to be firing.  Which they have not been.

IMG_20130906_191610dad getting his supplemental feeding time in

And so the valuable days of maternity leave (or, since my office doesn’t have maternity leave, all of my vacation and accrued sick leave that I am currently using up) tick by, with me spending the majority of my time sitting, exhausted and milk-soaked, in my rocking chair, baby in hand, hooked up to a pump, zoning out to the WAH-wah-WAH-wah-WAH-wah of the machine, dreaming of what we’re GOING to do just as soon as things calm down.

At least I have some good company.


In the meantime, I’m going to keep researching marathons for next year.

She’s Here


So, this happened 2 weekends ago.  And yes, I’m still alive,  Yesterday was just the first day I’ve made a To Do list that extended beyond “try to get out of pajamas”.

More to come shortly.