bwak bwak

i can't believe i haven't blogged about our chickens. here they are in all their glory, making their once daily venture into our kitchen.
generally chickens are pretty stupid. i expected these guys to make it all of a week or two. but we've had them about two months and they don't show any signs of going anywhere anytime soon. in fact, they're kinda smart.
maybe it's because they're bantams. they roost up in trees at night so they don't get eaten by critters like fox. and they all stick together - two hens flecked by four roosters. poor gals.
the guys, though, are terrible at crowing. maybe it's because they're small or they're still kind of young. i'm not sure. the noise is this horrid pre-pubescent squawk that might not be so awful if it was just one. but all four typically carry on for 5 to 10 minutes at a time. in truth i've gotten used to it and usually just tune it out like a 2 year old tantrum. it's our visitors who suffer.

countdown

people are having a lot of fun guessing baby no. 2's birthday, so let's make it public.
what's' your guess? the due date is sept. 5. i'll tell you my mother has already claimed the morning of aug. 31, partially because it's her birthday and partially because it's the day following a full moon in a blue moon month. but that doesn't mean you can't join her. (i'd say it's a pretty good guess as guesses go, except that'd put me a whole week early and i just can't imagine doing anything that ahead of time).
i'm guessing sept. 7 for no real reason except that's when i'd like it to happen. which means it won't. also, tayloe was due on a friday but was born 2 days late on a sunday, so it seems to me this birth should follow suit. it's funny how your brain falls back on what it knows when it doesn't have any other information to go on.
now that the house is finished (pictures soon) i really should get some things done this week, like get a bag packed and get some fall clothes & shoes for t2 and maybe buy a decent looking pair of pajamas since we'll have a few more visitors this time. maybe i should start a list.
we're pretty much ready though. his room is clean and his clothes are clean and i even have some diapers. tayloe and i have surrendered to being tired and exasperated and have promised to remind each other that it won't last forever.
it's anyone's guess whether little tayloe is ready for the storm that's about to rock his little world. he knows there's a baby in my belly, but when we tell him there'll be a baby in our house soon he says, 'no way.' and not like , 'NO WAY, GET OUT! HOW FUN' more like, 'no way am i going to tolerate that.' sometimes for kicks i ask him where the baby should sleep and he either says with wolly or outside with cheese, his fish.
anywho, waddya think. early, late or right on time? i'll keep a running tally and post it here. the winner gets to host t2 in his/her own home for an ENTIRE WEEK!!! NO WAY!!!! HOW FUN!!!!!!!

what a mom is

my mom and her best friend have been here the past two days cleaning and unpacking our house. i'd like to say helping me clean our house, but that would be a big fat lie because i haven't been doing anything. no one can tell you to sit down and shut up the way your mother can.
they've unpacked our kitchen, assembled cabinet doors, cleaned floors, dusted, washed windows, done laundry and moved and rearranged and moved again our furniture. my mom even talked the guy working on our bathroom into hauling away a bunch of trash that would have taken us years to get rid of.
our house looks absolutely amazing (i'm taking pictures soon, just gotta find that camera ...) and there is no way under heaven that i could have done it. i can barely bend over to look in the fridge.
throw away all the parenting books and take a lesson from my mother - the greatest gift you can give your child is love. and my mom gives it perfectly.
thanks, ma. a million times over, thanks. (you, too, brenda)

recap

we went to hershey park and had a great time, but i didn't have my camera with me so i have no visual documentation whatsoever. i can, however, offer you this excerpt of the moment i knew it was time to go home:
little tayloe wants to ride the ladybug saucers. we say ok! tayloe sees a bench and leaves us in line to go sit on it. that's ok because he'd ridden pretty much everything else and won t2 a stuffed animal at one of the games and bought us all lemonade and cheeseburgers. it's our turn and the only saucer left already has two little girls and their mother in it. tayloe climbs in and says, 'mama, sit!' i'm not sure i can, i say. he looks at me funny.
see, the saucer has a wheel in the middle for kids to hold on to. and the space between the seat and the wheel may have fit nicole richie or angelina jolie at 8 1/2 months pregnant but i was pretty sure it wasn't going to fit catherine emery 8 1/2 months pregnant. besides that, the whole apparatus is really low to the ground.
then the mother of the girls says she thinks i can get in. i ask her if she has any vaseline. then the ride operator weighs in and before you know it we have something of a scene over WHETHER OR NOT I CAN FIT IN A SEAT. ON A KIDDIE RIDE. horrid.
tayloe's on a bench, watching, remember.
i decide to just get in for no other reason but to make it all stop. so i do. my ass is hanging off the seat and i'm sideways in the ride and my knees are pretty much in my mouth and the baby has decided to roll over entirely to my right side, but i'm in. 'yay mama!' tayloe says. yay mama i say back.
we start moving. round and round and round in circles. tayloe's holding on and giggling and yelling, 'WHEE' and i'm about to vomit. and just then, i look over at his father - my husband, the person i adore more than anyone in the world - and i can make out through the whirls and the blurry vision and the extreme discomfort that he's laughing. really hard, actually. and so i start laughing because really, it's pretty funny.

some recent pictures

4 more weeks

i'm thinking about it and you know, i've always kind of thrived on deadlines. i think it's the reason i became a journalist in the first place - i knew it was the only profession that would allow me to actually accomplish something.
i pretty much need someone breathing down my neck.
in this case, it's a small baby. only he's not exactly breathing down my neck as much as he is needling me from the inside. which sometimes is just as annoying.
i'm pretty sure just my 8 months pregnant presence scares every workman who steps into this house. especially the young ones. they look especially frightened.
on thursday, the tile guys took the toilet out of the bathroom. on friday the contractor told me the 'thought' the plumber was coming to reinstall it.
you think? i said. i have no idea how i looked at him but before i could say anything else he was dialing the plumber's number on his cell phone. an hour later, they were here.
honestly, i've never been so effective.
we're getting there, though. we have new cabinets and a great new island, a new bathroom and new appliances. of course nothing's hooked up yet, but we're close. really, really close. if the floors are sealed this week and the electrician actually shows up on wednesday and the painter comes on thursday and the plumber and contractor make it on friday and they all do most of what they say they're going to do (which they all pretty much have so far), we'll be really really close.
i'm optimistic. no one wants a lecture from a pregnant lady. and they sure as shit don't want a phone call from tayloe.
anyway, it's one of our last chances to go on an adventure just the three of us so we're leaving to go to hershey park in pennsylvania tomorrow. i can't even believe how willing i am to go to an amusement park while 8 months pregnant in august, but i am. i'm super excited even. that should give you a little insight to what a wreck our house is.

news from lake wollygone

the day after little tayloe's birthday, we had to bail wolly out of the doggie clink which, it turns out, was a major pain in the ass.
the next night i let him outside before bed and though i was outside too he managed to sneak away only to return home at 2 in the morning. he stood at the front door and howled (not barked, not scratched, hhhoooowwwwllleed like we had done something to him) until we got up and let him in.
a few days later, he found his way out in the middle of the night and was gone when we woke up. he returned later in the day but had to be shut in our bedroom because the floor guys were here working. that afternoon, he decided our freshly painted walls were the perfect landing place the yellowish/greenish liquid that came rapid fire from his butt. i can only assume it was the bi-product of trash he'd been shifflett'ing around after the day before.
i feel like putting a sign around his neck that says 'if you feed or play with this dog, you keep him' because that's what he's going out looking for. and make no mistake, his first objective is to find a fetch sucker. if he gets a bologna sandwich too, well that's just makes the trip all the more worth the while.
he's managed to stay put the last few days, but that's not always good either. when he's here he either sticks to me like huge, panting, drooling magnet or he darts around the house trying to eat flies.
of course i love him. he's crazy, frantic, telephone book-eating, santa-loving wolly. but an 8 year old lab isn't supposed to act like a 2 year old lab. an 8 year old lab is supposed to lie around all day on the ac vent.
there's a nice one in the kitchen, by the way. give it a try?

flee the scene

we're out of the house this week while they put our new kitchen and bathroom floors in, install our cabinets and make the shower and tub operational. pray that this all actually happens. if it takes much longer i'm going to just ask my doctors to go ahead and admit me to the hospital and give me the epideral. i'll just wait it out watching 'dirty dancing' and 'flashdance' sipping cranberry juice on crushy ice.
there's this opsprey near mt. airy that builds its nest on the same silo every year. and every year at least once, a huge storm comes along and knocks the thing over. nevertheless the parents pick up the pieces and hold their ground, even through hurricanes.
i'm starting to feel like those birds.

a great birthday, with a hitch

big tayloe took a holiday yesterday and we all went on a mountain journey for t2's birthday. it was good fun, complete with blueberry picking in the mountains, gorgeous views and mud puddles.
the hitch was that wolly was missing for 24 hours, but now he's home. tayloe's my hero for finding him.

i two

happy birthday little tayloe. tomorrow's the real day, but we celebrated on sunday with a little party that was a huge hit. you loved your cupcakes and had fun opening your presents with aunt mary. on sunday afternoon your dad and i set up your new train set and you sat for over a hour playing, giving us a running dialogue of all things choo choo. our favorite is when you say 'all aboard!' and chug the little engines down the track.
i gotta tell you kiddo, your tenderness, fearlessness and passion amaze us. you must fall down 15 times a day and a good number of those are kinda painful crashes. yet you rarely ever complain and when you do all you need to get back on your feet is a little kiss. you've been sleeping in a big twin bed for almost two months and rarely wake up in the night. in the morning you trot into our room, blanket in hand, and pull on my arm. 'hhhiii mama!' when you see me open my eyes.
sometimes the things you say break our hearts, like when you whisper 'wuv you' when we kiss you goodnight.
last friday you and dad and i went to the pool. we were walking through the parking lot, just the three of us, holding hands. i felt a twitch of pain because i know it won't be that way much longer.
without getting mushier, i'll just say you're a beautiful boy. your daddy and i love you so much and we love each other more every day for giving one another the gift of you.

sweet tayloe cuteness

this is probably one of my favorite pictures because it's just oozing love. these two are so cute together.
at night after stories and before prayers, t2 and i wax poetic on the things we're thankful for. DADA! he always shouts first. i say im thankful for dada too and he follows with POOL! i say that's a good thing to be thankful for and he says CHOO CHOO! i nod.
what else i say?
WAWE! (wolly) i agree, although i usually add that wolly fits into the 'sometimes hard to love but we manage to anyway' category.
he nods in agreement.
anything else, i ask?
POP! (my dad, who seems to have permanently entered his memory log). and from here it's rapid fire - BOOKS! JUICE! POOP! (really) SHOES! an assortment of grandparents and aunts and uncles and then anything that he might of seen that day - cows, chickens, fire trucks.
wow, you're thankful for a lot! is that all, i ask?
he taps his little finger on his chin and looks up. hhhmmm, he says.
then, finally, MOMMIE! and then he wraps his arms around my neck.
dear god, thank you for little tayloe.

happy birthday to tayloe (the big one)

You’re the lucky one always havin fun
A jack of all trades a master of none
You look at the world with a smiling eye
And laugh at the devil as his train rolls by
Just give you a song and a one-night stand
And you’ll be looking at a happy man
Cause you’re the lucky one

Were you blessed? I guess
By never knowin which road you’re choosing
To you the next best thing to playin and winning
Is playin and losin

you're the lucky one, i know that now
don't ask you why when where or how
You look at the world through your smilin eye
And laugh at the devil as his train rolls by
Just give you a song and a one-night stand
And you’ll be looking at a happy man
Cause you’re the lucky one

tater, today's your birthday and i've had that song in my head all morning. it always reminds me of you. i'm glad your luck and crazy spirit are part of us. we love you.

dear little baby

i realized today that in about 8 weeks you'll be here. when you're brother was 8 weeks away from his birthday i remember thinking it seemed like an awfully long time.
it doesn't seem so long with you. in fact, it seems rather short.
there's a bathtub in your room. your crib is in pieces (sans directions) in storage and so is your changing table. our kitchen is about to be destroyed and out of commission for a few weeks and it only recently dawned on me that soon i'll need to buy a few boxes of itsy bity newborn diapers.
on the plus side, your room is painted and i have washed some of your tiny clothes and even put them away for you. but basically if you were born tomorrow ... well, let's not think about it. especially since your dad is leaving for uganda and kenya tomorrow. it just wouldn't be terribly convenient.
that's not to say i don't think about your pending arrival everyday. i do. i imagine you different from your brother and also a little bit the same, too. i'm curious about every inch of you and i can't wait for you to be here. and that isn't just because it'll mean that most of the work on our house will be done.
so forgive that sometimes the details are just lost on me. that'll stop surprising you after a while. just ask your dad.
here's a picture of you and me kiddo. i'm glad you like watermelon.

where hgtv gets you

light green walls.
pea green trim.
homemade chalkboard paint.
happy kid.

flew the coop

this was the scene last week on our front porch. a week or so ago i went to throw out that dreadful looking plant and a female song bird just about pecked my eyes out. i didn't realize there was a family in there.
the other day i was walking by the door and noticed they were moving out.
meanwhile t2's been with my parents while tayloe and i get moved in. we've been up until midnight the last two nights finishing up projects that would otherwise take weeks with a toddler on our heels. who knew working so hard could be so much fun.
the only trouble is, it's getting harder and harder for me to do really simple stuff, like bend over to pick something up. when i drop something, i honestly stand there and look at it for a few minutes, like if i stare long enough it'll spring back into my hands.
getting on and off the floor with any grace is a challenge, too. last week i took little tayloe to a magic show at the library. it was crammed packed and the only place to sit was this tiny little space on the floor. i either stepped on or knocked over every kid in that place trying to sit down. it was like moses parting the waters. when we finally got to the spot, the only way i could figure to get on the floor was to just drop down. and so i did. and the earth shook.
40 minutes later when it was over, i had to wait for everyone else to leave the room before i could get up, partially because i didn't want anyone to watch what was sure to be an episode (nothing as attractive as a pregnant lady on all fours in public) and partially because it honestly took that long for me to regain feeling in my legs and feet.

we're in

what's the word?
we finally signed our contract and we've been staying at our house for about a week now. we even have a local phone number, which to me makes it official.
we're not really moved in as we're waiting for the painter to finish and are hesitant to really get too settled since they'll be doing a lot of wrecking in the next few weeks. so we're kinda camping - clothes on the clothes line because we haven't gotten a new dryer yet, mattress and box springs on the floor, 3 plates, 3 bowls and a few cups. but it works. oddly, the only thing i've really been missing is my toaster.
today as t2 and i were coming home from the library, i met our mail lady, winkie. that's her name, winkie. like twinkie.
she pulled over her red chevy blazer/mail truck to introduce herself. she was sitting on the passenger side but her left hand was on the wheel and her left leg was stretched across the center so she could operate the brake and gas. she told me if i ever needed anything to just flag her down. she also told me she always carries stamps so should i need some, just leave some cash and a note in the box.
while i was out there, the only neighbor we haven't met came over to introduce herself. her name's doris gentry. she's 79, but you might not be able to guess that because her hair is dyed a sort of autumn sunrise color and i'm gonna guess she goes through a compact of foundation and rouge a week. we introduced ourselves and it didn't take long before she was telling me how many people she knows who've died in the last year. my favorite thing about her, aside from her obvious beauty sense, were the clear plastic goolashes she had on over her slippers.
if that wasn't enough to charm your pants off, just step inside our house. from the snow scene painted tin plate that covers the hole in the wall where the wood stove used to be to the special red, orange and white sponge paint in the dining room we're spilling over with character.
it's perfect even when it's not.

We interrupt your regular BLABY programming...

big boy bed at the big house

tayloe's sister and family are at the cottage this week so we're up at the big house on vacation. there isn't a crib up here so we plunked tayloe into a twin roll away in the spacious room across the hall from us and hoped for the best.
damned if he didn't sleep like a baby. all night long and not a peep every night since friday.
i know, i've just jinxed us.
on another note, there are four containers of ice cream in the freezer right now and each one has a serious dent in it made by your truly. i couldn't help it - they were on sale, 2 for $6. plus, it really helps the heart burn so it's kinda like medicine.

the sweetest sounds

just when i'm ready to ring his little neck, t2 says something cute. it's a trait i'm sure he learned from his dad.
the things i love the most are when he says his name - 'taydough' as he points to himself - and 'i do' when i ask him something. as in, 'do you want some milk?' 'i do!' (god forbid he actually say yes)
'mommie CATCH' is another favorite, only he says it as he's hurling a ball at me, rather than just before like i've been trying to teach him. 'pwease' is awful cute too, especially now that he says it very often without being prompted. and somehow when he really wants my attention, he knows to quickly and loudly say 'MOM!'
right now we're watching curious george together and every once and a while looks up at me and says, 'mommie, turious torge' and points to the tv.
kiddo you are crazy and messy sometimes, have selective hearing and leave me very tired at the end of the day, but i love you to pieces.

back to blaby

well, it's a good thing i have you people. there were so many good ideas for what blaby meant, i've forgotten all about it's LA roots and given it new meaning in my mind. so i changed it back. blaby it is.
if i'd of placed bets on which of our fish would die first, i would have bet on mac. he was swimming upside down a few weeks ago and i thought then he wasn't long for this world. he's also had a few 'out of bowl' experiences, including one that was very close to an open drain.
but i'd of been wrong. cheese got the flush last week while we were gone. it was death by shrimp flakes we think because tayloe said he gorged one night and then was belly up the next day. shrimp flakes will do that to ya.
i was moderately devastated because all week t2 had been talking about him. every fish is named cheese and i still get such a kick out of hearing him say it.
so i asked tayloe to try to replace him before we got home. not for the kid so much, you understand. for me.
and he did replace him. with three minnows. river minnows. only one died today so we're down to two river minnows. and mac. and to help improve their chances for survival, we added an air bubble maker (i'm brain dead -- what are those things called?)
little tayloe and i changed their water today. i put them in a tupperware bowl on the counter, which happened to be next to the dog's bowl.
i was washing rocks and tayloe was making a mess when we both heard a SPLUSH, PING, PING, PING. i looked over and minnow no. 2 had jumped from the tupperware bowl into the dog bowl. there he was, flipping around in some purina crumbs.
dumb fish.