Strike Them From the List

Since we have now seen a scrotum on the ultrasound and therefore know we must buckle down and pick a name appropriate for one of the male sex (yes, sadly, we've admitted that "Catherine," however lovely, is not appropriate at this juncture), we decided to consult the baby's family tree in search of famous rogues, notorious personages, and baby name ideas.  What we mainly found was the fascinating history of ordinary people- and a few names we WON'T be using.  A sample follows, for your amusement and inspiration.  I promise you, I am not making ANY of these up- each and every one is the given name of one of this child's male ancestors.  There were also a great many solid Johns, Roberts, Williams, and Thomases to be found- plus at least one Dick and one Harry.  So there you have it.

Otto
Elijah
Ottilie
Erwin
Adolphus
Ebenezer
Orion
Phineas
Asa
Moses
Hiram
Adelbert
Eliakim
Orin
Azor
Sylvanus
Ransom
Jebediah
Selar
Theophil
Levi
Erastus
Orrin
Joe Bob
Sven
Parmenas
Jeptha
Enos
Marmaduke
Appleton (surname: Beckwith.  I mention this because A) This was one of my favorite names on the family tree and B) it appears more than once.  Which means someone spent his entire life introducing himself as "Appleton Beckwith" and still named someone after himself.)
Albertus
Adaeu
Phineas
Hercules

PS: Thanks are owed to the tireless geneaology research done by my dad, and to the bottomless archive of my Grandma's memory.  A great deal of what we know about our family history is due to things she remembered, and Dad tracked down in the historical record. 

It's a Boy!

The toes of both little feet.

The doctor and the ultrasound technician both said we were measuring a little ahead of due date.  My belly is measuring a week ahead  (I blame the fudge.) and the baby is measuring five days ahead.  I've gained a total of nine pounds so far.  Everything else looks perfectly normal, and this son is as much an exhibitionist as his brother was- there can be no question that we've got the wrong information.  Kid's a boy and doesn't care who knows it!

I'm A Boy

Study Shuffle

Much as I love natural containers like baskets and wood boxes, and use them at every opportunity, there are times when there is just no denying that breaking down and resorting to some plastic storage containers is just plain tidy and convenient.

I had been using wooden boxes to organize the art supply area, and although I prefer the old containers, they did not organize the supplies nearly so handily.  And I can't say I'm sorry to trade in the teetering pile of puzzles for two tidy drawers full!

As always, a natural consequence of rearranging the toys is that Ian is playing with things he hasn't even looked at in ages.  Everyone wins.

Study Shuffle

Goodbye, big doggie

Ori, Remus, and Sunny on the couch, circa 2004 (?)

The world is short about 100 pounds of pure love today. Rest in peace, Orion.  Go chase Foofy.

(For those of you who are scratching your heads and thinking, "But Meghan doesn't HAVE a dog..." Ori lived in Arizona with my first husband and my other erstwhile dog, Bailey.)

Whoops

The best part was that he had propped up both feet, but one kept falling off and he'd put it back up without even waking.  Guess the pre-Christmas excitement took a toll!

Reindeer Games

"Now Daddy needs some, too!"

Do you think he remembers?

Christmas Fudge

We may or may not be enjoying Christmas Fudge this year.  I love fudge.  (I know, who doesn't?)  Normally, my mother makes it, and when I do it it's just a bonus.  This year, she didn't happen to make any.  (Not a problem- we will manage to achieve obesity by New Year's regardless.) But, since we like it, I thought I'd make some.  Seeing as how I'm done with almost all the other holiday tasks, and all.

Let me begin by explaining that I have gotten a different set of pots and pans since the last time I made fudge.  They are, in fact, a NICER set.  But different, nonetheless.  So when I picked out the pot I thought would work and diligently hooked up the candy thermometer, it came as something of a surprise that as the level on the thermometer rose, so did the contents of the pot.  Apparently I either forgot all about this phenomenon, or it wasn't nearly as noticeable in my wider, shallower pot last year.

So the candy continued to swell until I had twenty more degrees to go before the candy mixture and the chocolate were supposed to meet, but about one more degree before the pot boiled over.  Have you ever tried to "stir constantly" while transferring a boiling hot, sticky substance from one pot to another?  Well, it wasn't pretty, but everyone came through okay except, possibly, the fudge.

Time will tell, and, you know- the proof is in the pudding.  Or, the fudge, as the case happens to be.  I have a feeling we will choke it down somehow.

As a sidebar, the Little Dude observed part of this process (thankfully, not the incredibly ridiculous and possibly dangerous pot transfer) and immediately pointed out that Auntie Tarra needed to help us eat the fudge.  To which I replied in two parts.  One: Auntie Tarra, this little person has got your number.  And Two: as soon as she gets here, we will share our fudge.  Which may or may not be any good.

PS: The fudge is fine.  One billion calories per square inch, and all.

Ring Around the Rosy

One of the amazing things about three is how well they are starting to play together. The kids initiated the game, kept it going all on their own, and loved every second of it.

Live, Love, Laugh

Down the Rabbit Hole

When I got pregnant with Ian, I had been unable to eat any dairy or corn for nearly two years, as a result of some kind of food intolerance, which may or may not have been an allergy.  Surprisingly and thankfully, that and all my other allergy issues disappeared or significantly diminished.  I also won the genetic lottery in the sense that I have inherited, from my mother, not throwing up.  In my opinion, it totally makes up for the fact that she did not pass along the "I don't have any wisdom teeth" gene.  I hope that one skips a generation and that both my kids have it.

However, in addition to these undeniably positive reactions to the tidal wave of hormones that make new life possible, I am also blessed with an incredibly sensitive "early warning system" about what my altered digestion can handle- namely, a double (or triple) dose of food aversions and cravings.  I could not tolerate the word "banana" the entire 41.1 weeks of my pregnancy with Ian, let alone actually eat one, smell one, or witness one being eaten on TV.  And anyone who had eaten bacon for breakfast had to remain outside the super-smeller perimeter for the rest of the day.  I had to extract a promise from my husband that he not eat any pork product for the duration of my pregnancy- chicken was okay, and red meat was tolerable, but ham or pork chops were out of the question.  I had the occasional craving for old, familiar flavors, and I'll admit the Thanksgiving turkey smelled awfully good that year, but I never regretted letting it pass me by.  Plus, you know, I was so busy renewing my love affair with CHEESE that I barely noticed a desire for other things I didn't eat.

The pork perimeter I put up last time, plus the fact that I had an undeniably healthy baby as a vegetarian, probably contribute to the expressions of shock and wonder in response to the news that I am now eating meat.  Of course, these are people who don't know that the earliest signs that I was pregnant this time were 1) my rings did not fit and 2) the grilled pork at my father's birthday dinner smelled AWESOME.

Then came the food aversions, which included chocolate, oatmeal, tofu, all brands of meat analogs, beans, most nuts, and pretty much anything sweet except apples, bananas, and grapes.  Next went the green veggies except lettuce, peas, and asparagus.  Tomatoes are usually okay, but sometimes smell funny to me.  Fresh garlic and onions are out of the question- I can't cook with them, nor can I eat them. 

Potatoes, cheese, and Rice Crispies were tasting really good to me, but even with salad thrown in for some color I was having problems.  I was dang hungry.  Everyone already knows I get cranky when I'm hungry.  We'd gone beyond "cranky" to "would like to slap complete strangers"  and were nearing "will be committed until the hysterical sobbing stops."

The craving for steak also came around the same time, but honestly, by the time all was said and done, "craving" was the wrong word for how I have begun to feel about red meat.  It's more like an irresistable compulsion.  They were cooking steak samples at the commissary last time I went grocery shopping, and I had all I could do not to park my cart and mug the man for his certified Angus beef.  I could control my "brute squad" impulse, but not my salivary glands- I slobbered my way through the store, utterly distracted, and had to backtrack multiple times because I'd walked right past the next item on my list in a scent-induced trance.

Those of you who favor rational explanations will look at the list of things I can't tolerate and go, "yep, protein and iron deficiency.  The woman needs steak!"  while those of you who prefer funny/metaphysical explanations are with me on, "Werewolf fetus!"  In the end, it seems safer to throw the werewolf a steak every now and then than to force it to subsist on cheese and potatoes until it breaks loose and kills someone, even if it means giving up my veg lifestyle.

Big Snow...

...for Northern VA. No comparison to last year, thank goodness. Ian has informed us that he is all covered with Frosty Ice.

We're fine with that, because, one year ago this week, we were digging our car out of the driveway without the aid of a snow shovel, trying to convince our two-year-old to help us by reminding him that "Rama's got cookies!"

We'll deal with the blanket of idiocy that descends upon NOVA residents when the first inch of snow accumulates... really.  It's no big.   We've got shovels and snow melt this year- we're good.

First Real Haircut

Mommy went first, of course, and even then he refused at first to have his hair cut.  He did, in fact, utterly refuse to allow Miss Hilda to wash his hair, but he consented to let her comb it, and then, when she asked again, said yes to a cut.

The very nice older lady under the blow dryer kept telling the stylist, "don't cut too much!  He's still little!"  Thereby lifting the burden of anxiety over whether my baby would be utterly shorn from my shoulders, since she had it covered for me.  In the end, Daddy actually couldn't figure out that he'd had a haircut until he was told.  So he looks tidy, and cute, and not at all drastically different.  What a relief.

What? You want to see my hair, too? Well, okay...

 I'm strictly a "wash and wear" gal, though, so we'll see how it looks when I don't have a professional styling it for me.

Decked Out

You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I'm telling you why...

Visit to Santa...

...check.

By the way, he told Santa he wants a John Deere tractor for Christmas.  Meaning, a REAL John Deere tractor.

Love and Joy, Come to You

By the way, if you haven't made plans to go to the train exhibit at the US Botanical Gardens, do it!  This free exhibit is absolutely fabulous- and the whole place is exquisitely decorated for the holidays!  You'll find a photo op around every corner.  Go early- they open at 10:00 and tend to get crowded as the day goes on, although we got lucky and the place was only reasonably busy while we were there.

Belly

Urchin

Sometimes what you get when Ian picks out his own outfit boggles the mind. Usually, because it is so bizarre. In this case, because it was so... well, see for yourself!

PS: Just for fun... Same kid, same place... this is now, here's then.

We Bring You Tidings of Joy & Good Cheer

As always, we wish you a "Merry Everything" from our family to yours!

I hope 2010 has been good to you all and that you are looking forward to a wonderful year in 2011.  As many of you know from past years, we decided a few years ago to begin distributing our holiday cards and the ubiquitous "holiday letter," for the most part, online.  If you would like our card to join your collection, please feel free to print it and let it keep company with the others- I hope you've been blessed with a great many cards to enjoy this year.  (If you click the image you should be able to view it full size.)

If you don't do a holiday card display, then please let the fact that the production and distribution of this card consumed very little resources and you won't be sending a copy to the landfill this year warm "the cockles of your heart."

Our year was probably a lot like yours- we said a few goodbyes, we had a lot of good times, and we felt incredibly blessed.  Our son,  in his own words, "grewed and grewed and grewed," and will proudly tell you he "used to be a baby but now I'm a BIG BOY!"  In other words, he's three, and loving every minute of it.  His fascination with farm equipment (especially John Deere tractors), construction sites, and anything with a wheel on it is still in full swing, and he's added pirates, Romans, dinosaurs, and too many others to name.  We're ridiculously proud of him, but we try not to be boring about it.

Please feel free to browse the archives at www.semelesriches.blogspot.com if you want details of our exploits- it's been a great year.  We were able to share parts of it with so many of you, and for that we are grateful.  I hope we'll see all of you in the New Year- and we'll definitely be expanding our circle a bit when Baby #2 arrives in May.

Love to you all!
Meghan, Michael, and Ian

More, Please Mommy!

Strictly speaking, this is what you'd call "off topic" for this blog, but I've spent a fair bit of my time on it lately and thought I'd give it a mention here.  My Moms & Playgroup organization, The Joy Troupe, has just published their third annual cookbook, More Please, Mommy!  It's a fun little book full of tasty recipes and cute kids cooking and enjoying food.

Dressing the Part

Little Dude wore his Halloween costume to a Fire Station Tour. Gotta love that kid.

The Elf on the Shelf

We're doing The Elf on the Shelf this year.  I can't tell you how much Ian is enjoying it.  We'll be adding photos to the album as we go along... please enjoy them.  (Thank you, Miss Debbie, for sending the Elf to our house!)

Oh Mr. Postman...

"Right here, Mommy?"

1, 2, 3, 4... I'm putting them all in there!

Mail Christmas cards with the Little Mister:  Check!  He was tickled pink by the whole process.

Making Christmas

 

Envelope Licker

The little man is helping me send Christmas cards today. He's been licking the envelopes. He also very helpfully reminded me that, "Those are my GERMS, Mommy."

He's been up for 20 minutes

Do that again, Mommy!

And already he's planned a city built of glow sticks, become entangled by cranes, and eaten all the blue in the world.  Apparently he's also absorbed Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" by osmosis, as he's announced, ""The Christmas Ghosts are coming. They are going to howl theirselves. 1,2,3- that's it!""

And, lest I forget:

"Prepare to meet your doom! And smile!"