The Case Against Bows & Other Hair Matters

(First things first, is not my daughter captivating? MMmmMmMmmMMMmMMM)

Okay, now we can start. I wouldn't be surprised if many a folk think me a neglectful mother for not adorning Sienna's head with a satellite dish-sized bow on a daily basis. Especially because I complain so often that people mistake her for a boy. Well, I tell you, I just can't do it.

She does look insanely beautiful with a bow. But see how it slides down there?

It lands in her eyes more often than not, and I just can't be tasked with the duty of keeping it straight.

That's all. I just don't have the patience for bows. That's it. I think they are lovely. I just can't hack it when it comes to accouterments.

In other hair news, I gave Sienna her first haircut on Monday. She's five months old now and I figured it was time. Naturally. She's been rubbing it bald on the sides and back and her whole look was resembling that of a toupee-wearing grandpa. She was reminding me of Larry, Curly, and/or Mo and it was bugging me.

Here's her growth before the cut.

Here's an after shot, which doesn't show much except her adorable chubby profile.

I cut off a good centimeter.

Here's her sucking her thumb (palm always up) in response.

Ending with a much shorter mohawk. (Her eyes are still blue! What the?)

mVelope

You know how you find stuff online that you love and to remember it you email yourself a bunch of links and when you go back to look for those links you can't find them and you spend all day Googling through your email inbox and you STILL can't find them and you want to blow up the Internet because you thought Googling was the answer to everything or at least produced some kind of answer? Well, I'd like to introduce you to my new blog that only contains run-on sentences. Just kidding. Just kidding, just kidding, just kidding.

Actually, I'd like to introduce you to my new blog where I keep track of all the things I find online or in real life that I love and want to log away for future reference. It's called mVelope. You say it like this: Em-velope. Rhymes with envelope. And my name's Martha ... sooo .... Get it? It's my online envelope of goodies that make me giddy. So check 'er out. The blog itself makes me giddy. Blogging - period - makes me giddy. I'll keep a link to it on my sidebar. Get ready to get giddy!

A Mother of a Musing

In case you haven't been paying attention, since May 6th this blog has officially become one of THOSE blogs. One of those blogs I used to avoid. A baby blog. And, surprisingly, I am unashamed. Because I truly do believe my baby is the awesomest human to ever enter this atmosphere. So, in the spirit of taking this annoying baby blog just one step further, I'd like to document my thoughts on being a parent (five months into the process). All you single people and couples without kids have my permission to leave now. I will not blame you in the slightest. This is annoying stuff. And I love it!

*It can't be stated enough: my daughter is the best, brightest, sweetest, cutest, most scrum-diddly-umptious miniature human to get from heaven, to my womb, to planet earth that ever was. It's just a fact. I didn't feel this way at first, though. A friend asked me RIGHT after she was born "don't you just LOVE her?" and I said "Yes!" but I was thinking "No ..." because, yes, I was THRILLED to not be pregnant, but the baby herself was still just kind of not real yet. The more she has learned to respond, the more I love her. Love is a two-way street and it's hard to love those who are like leeches, completely dependent. It makes me especially in awe of people who have dependent elderly parents or handicapped children.

*I finally get the parent thing. It's something that cannot possibly be understood until you become one. I know why parents cannot shut up about their kid even if it drives everyone else to drink. I totally get it.

*I had no idea the issue of sleep would consume almost my every thought: how to get more, how to get Sienna to get more, when to put her to bed, when to leave her there to cry it out, when to ditch crying it out and help the poor child, why she only slept 45 minutes for one nap and 4 hours for another nap. It's this constantly perplexing thing that, as I've stated in a previous blog post, leaves me throwing up my arms in total and utter confusion. That is, until I realized something. Sometimes I take my Sunday afternoon nap at a different time than I did just one week before. Sometimes I go to bed at 11 or 12 instead of 10 pm. Sometimes I wake up on my own at 4 am hankering for some toast and jam and MUST get up to eat it or else I will wither away. Could it be infants are just like adults ... but smaller? This is groundbreaking, I know. But if I look at it like this, it kind of helps me make sense of her crazy sleep weirdness. Still, sleep is what consumes the majority of my thoughts. I will move heaven and earth to get this girl in her crib the moment I see that first yawn. Just the other day I was taking a leisurely walk to the library. I got there and was ready to start perusing when - AH-HA! A YAWN! I dropped my book, turned around and TRUCKED IT home and got Sienna down just in time. Phew. These are the victories - getting my daughter down for a nap at the PERFECT moment. It is no small feat.

*I become a Monster with a capital M from the hours between 10 pm and 7 am. If Sienna awakens unexpectedly (sorry, this is just a continuation of the previous paragraph) - say one hour after I have fed her - I will visit said child's crib and scold her and try with all my might not to give her a karate chop to the neck. (Just for the record, I've never karate chopped her in the neck.) I think the craziest thoughts and wish the most incredible harm on her in the middle of the night and sometimes I have to awaken Adam to take her away. Or take me away and lock me up - whichever diffuses the situation best. Unless you are already an insomniac and are well acquainted with the night-time world, the new parent discovers this strange, dark, lonely life that goes on when the rest of society is sleeping soundly. The weirdest thing I hear in the middle of the night when I'm drowsily feeding is the traffic going to and from the outside trash dumpster. Who, I ask, is taking out their trash at 3 am? Apparently a lot of people.

*It's something I'm still getting used to, but, guess what? I can't just leave and go running once Sienna goes down for a nap. I'll take out the trash or grab my laundry after locking her inside, sure. But I can't just go live my life and leave her alone even though I'm fairly certain that she'd be just fine. No one would steal her and she wouldn't suffocate. She'd be fine. But I still can't do it. It's hard. Because I just want to go running without her. I do.

*I used to get annoyed when I was pregnant that the only thing people wanted to talk to me about was my pregnancy. Well, now that the child is out, I have no qualms whatsoever about every conversation and attention being turned to her. It doesn't bother me in the slightest. And good thing because about twice as many people will stop and talk to you/your baby (and call her a boy) and turn into total dweebs. Everyone has a baby voice. And it doesn't bother me. Again, she is the best, brightest, cutest, and might I add whitest, tiniest, softest little marshmallow to ever lift her head and squawk. No, I will not shut up.

*Being a stay-at-home mom is everything I thought it would be. Fun, boring, special, mundane, awesome, stupid, wonderful, annoying, important, a waste of time, the best use of my time and so on and so forth. You see, it's everything. It's everything any sort of life situation is: it carries with it both good and bad. It's both satisfying and sweet while at times being tedious and tiring. A lot of people told me being a mom is hard work but didn't explain what that meant, just like people say marriage is hard work and ... it isn't. So my best guess about what it means for motherhood to be "hard work" is that it's manual labor and emotional labor. It's the housewifery bit (cleaning, cooking) plus rocking, walking, changing, wrapping, bathing, snuggling, carrying, pushing and, when she's older, the talking, arguing, disciplining, worrying. It's absolutely opposite of all my previous jobs which entailed sitting and thinking. Apples and oranges, both are great.

*There is nothing better, I repeat, NOTHING better, than touching and holding and kissing Sienna. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. Mmm mmmm! I want to snuggle her right now. But she seems to have decided to sleep for half the day. I can't win.

Inspired by my friend Fig's post on pregnancy, a list I wish I had written when I was pregnant.

Creamy Cardboard Goodness

Yes she did steal the spoon right from my hand.

Chow Time

I can hardly believe it but Sienna is doing the rice cereal thing. She's a week away from being five months and she has responded really well to the extra food. Even though it tastes like cardboard and probably adds, what, like 60 extra calories? I don't really get it. But she seems to be happier with it in her life and that makes us happy.

The Bird Squawks and Swats

Introducing videos on my blog! Took me long enough to figure that one out. The first two are of Sienna kind of swatting. I helped her out a bit in this first one, but you get the gist. (Also, my mouth is full in the first one, so that's why I sound like that.) She is getting the idea of using those things called "hands."

Take note of the right leg kick in the top and bottom videos. When she gets excited she waves her hands around and kicks only her right leg. We think it is hysterical.

These two videos show the squawk. It is my favorite!

Attack of the Grandparents

In Utah last month, Sienna met some of her great grandparents. Here's proof.

Saturdays with Dad

Watching TV

And afternoon at the beach

Plights

*Sweets*

In July, Adam and I decided to take a break from sweets. He was training for his last big bike race and I was bent on losing the final pregnancy pounds. When I say sweets, I’m talking dessert – ice cream, cake, candy bars – of which we have always partaken of in generous quantities. I love to bake, so we always have oatmeal cake, lemon bars, chocolate zucchini cake or what have you to dig into at any old time. I also love Snickers bars and Ritter bars and Twix bars, of which I always grabbed at the supermarket checkout line for a little, well-deserved (always deserved) treat. I like double chunk chocolate anything ice cream and Adam cleans out canisters of mint chocolate chip and cookies and cream. So, it was with trepidation that we embarked on this new path. I’ve tried the “no sweets” thing before and just remember wanting to climb the walls with chocolate desire. So we did it the doable way – we didn’t outlaw jam, honey or maple syrup (Adam has an insatiable appetite for waffles). And we allowed one sweet per week, every Friday. It could be big or small, but Friday night was the night. We chose Cold Stone creamery many times and lemon bars the other times. It was going swimmingly. Then Adam did his bike race and I lost the pounds …. And we were back ON SWEETS. After a couple weeks on them I have come to realize that …. I hate myself when I’m on sweets. There is much self-loathing and lethargy. I feel soft and rotund and as though my workouts are completely undone after eating a much deserved (always deserved) lemon berry tart. So, it is my plight to go back off. Starting Monday. After I finish my chocolate chip cookies. Wish me luck!

*Stomach*

In correlation with the sweets, something has got to change with my stomach. Oh my stomach! To state what many a post partum woman has discovered: She ain’t what she used to be. Oh the things I would give away to strangers (my firstborn?) to have my stomach back. I never had a six pack … but it was an honest two liter … and I liked it. My sister told me to take pictures of my belly very early on in my pregnancy to see the growth at every stage. I wish I had taken pictures of it from all the angles long before I got pregnant so I could look back and just … maybe … touch it, perhaps fondle it, kiss it, frame it and honor it. Which is why I’m going off sweets again. It has come to my attention that I can’t eat like I used to eat and have the same figure I used to have. It has been a bitter, bitter pill to swallow. A bitter pill than contains no sugar. But maybe it’s God’s way of saying: Clean up that temple, ship shape. To bear children involves continual sacrifice, not just during and directly after pregnancy but …. Gulp … forever. Maybe not forever. Maybe just this life. I’m looking forward to the resurrection. In the meantime, anyone have any good ab workouts? And does anyone else think the Pilates 100 are bunk? Seriously, pumping your arms 100 times by your sides = sweet abs? I don’t buy it. Hasn’t done anything for me yet.

*Sleep*

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” is a phrase I repeat over and over and over and over again in my mind while I’ve been sleep training Sienna. All in all, she is a pretty darn good sleeper, so I shouldn’t complain. Early on she was able to decipher between day and night and fell asleep quite rapidly after middle of the night feedings. She’s four months old now and I’ve moved the bedtime to 7:30 pm and have had her cry it out a few times here and there. The girl has the two Ls: longevity and lungs, so some of those cry it outs, I’ll admit, where very tough. My cousin, Carrie The Sleep Nazi, as I call her, has guided me every step of the way since it is quite impossible for me to understand Dr. Weissbluth’s poorly written and poorly organized (can I get a witness??) sleep book. And with her encouragement and some stick-to-it-ive-ness (how is that a word? It’s not) I’ve seen incredible results. Even miracles. Just when I thought I’d die of insanity, sanity was restored. But. Yet. YET. There are hiccups. There are random awakenings and random cry sessions. There are times when my head hits the pillow and it’s as if Sienna heard it and is suddenly, ravenously, like unto a rabid dog, hungry. And, again, I repeat: I have no flippin’, friggin’, fetchin’ (any other F-words I missed?) idea what the friggin’, fetchin’, flip I’m doing. Sometimes I can stick to my plan. And sometimes I give in. Sometimes I say F-words. And I always say, “I don’t know what I’m doing.” I have a feeling it will be a saying that becomes carved on my heart for the next, oh, several decades. If you have ideas on getting kids to sleep, and what’s worked and hasn’t worked for you, I am dying to know them. What sleep books have helped you? Do you swear by any one method? All I want is for her sleep to be perfect. Is this asking too much? (I know the answer, but humor me.)

Craftin' in the Bird Cage

I know what you've been thinking: Show me the crafts! It's what any respectable stay at home mom does all day, right? Well, I'm not really much of a crafter. I hate junk and that's what most of my craft projects turn into so I usually try to stay away or at least create something functional.

But then we moved into a bigger place and ... Sienna got her own room and ... the wheels started turning. When it comes to home decorating I sometimes try to intermingle it with my own handiwork. The key word is SOMETIMES. I keep it at sometimes because many things I've put on my wall that were my own doing quickly came down because they just sucked. And I hated them. And I couldn't stand to look at them. I'm a tortured (and untalented) artist who can't stand to look at her own stuff. So this time around, the craftin' was minimal and SIMPLE. I didn't get in over my head and, turns out, I like what I came up with.

Here's a shot of the Bird's former digs where she spent her first three months of life. She had one tiny wall in our room to call her own.

Here are her current digs. I feel compelled to tell you the price tag on this room because, not only am I proud of my two pieces of handiwork, I'm also proud that I spent very little to put this room together ... well, very little compared to what I REALLY wanted to spend. If I had it my way, I'd have a couple Charley Harper prints up, my favorite rocking chair on the planet, several very expensive mobiles and a crib from Oeuf . I'd also not be a renter wrapped up in all the ghastly whiteness.

Anyway, moving on.
Rock-A-Bye Glider & Ottoman from Babies R Us: $500 (originally $600). This was the big splurge of the room. It was worth it. I spend a lot of time there and it's VERY cozy.

Cradle: Free, borrowed from Adam's parents. In a couple months, we'll replace it with a borrowed crib from a friend. Borrowing is great considering we plan to move several more times in the next few years. Maybe our 5th child will have their very own crib.

Changing table: Uh. That's not a changing table. Those are our coffee tables. Again, maybe our 5th child will get a changing table.

Baskets: Already had them lying around. I itch to buy new baskets everytime I got to Target but MUST. REFRAIN. I don't need more baskets. Come on!

I almost died when I saw the closet space (roomy!) ... then I actually did die when I saw the closet doors (barf!). I had planned to cover them with butcher paper and my own rudimentary painting project of a black and white tree (think The Giving Tree book) but reminded myself I would absolutely hate looking at it. So I bought these flower decals from IKEA: $20.

Canvas: On sale at Aaron Brothers for $15. Paints: already had them. Painting these polka dots was painstaking. And I deeply regret one part. Which, I'm telling you, is why I shouldn't display my own art. First of all, it's not art. Secondly, I am bugged by it! Anyway, I do like how this polka dot piece turned out. It makes me happy when I look at it. I needed to do something simple and I was proud that I kept it that way, within my own limits. I think I'm more proud of it than I should be, but indulge me, okay? Me and canvas don't usually work things out so nicely.

These two prints I bought on Etsy at Persimmon & Pink. I just love their stuff. It's so sweet and simple and stylish. Very modern LDS art. Brilliant.

Two prints: $50

Two mats: $10

Two frames: $25 (on sale)

(P.S. They look teensy in the picture below but it's not to scale. They are much bigger than this.)

The mobile: $1. My friend, the master crafter Ariana, supplied me with the paper for the cranes, the thread and the bamboo sticks. I got the beads from off one of my old bracelets. And I take it back, the polka dots weren't painstaking, THIS mobile was painstaking. It took forever. That's another reason I can't craft. I'm too impatient. If it takes longer than a day it makes me stew. I got the idea from here.

Warrior

We just finished an epic road trip last night. 30+ hours in the car in 4 days from Irvine to Park City, Utah. I don't know who feels more accomplished about what: Adam for doing a bike race that was pure torture, or the Bird for sitting in a car seat that long. Check out Adam's commentary and my photos here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2283627&id=17812138&l=ad24232799.

Boy or Girl?

Sienna is mistaken for a boy all the time. I try not to be too sensitive about it. But guess what? I am. Okay? I am. She's a girl. So when she's wearing purple, don't ask if she's a boy. And if she's wearing a yellow dress that you can barely see because she's swaddled, don't ask if she's a boy. And if I dress her in grey, um, just don't try to guess.

When In Utah

I spent my first day back from vacation despondent: staring at the wall and surfing the Internet without my brain intact. Second day back from vacation I did a lot of origami. I'm happy to say that today, my third day back, I'm ready to face real life and routine and all that jazz. So, here's what I did in Utah last week:

*Took Sienna on her first plane ride. The trip there entailed lots of green poop oozing forth out of diaper and onto my hand and down the lavatory walls. That's what you get for not having a changing table, Delta. Green poop left on your lavatory wall. You're welcome. The trip back entailed sleep. That's it. Just sleep. The Bird and my arm - ASLEEP! And me reading a book. It was glorious.

*Saw lots of old friends. Old friends are the BEST! Heather and I met up in Provo with our sister soulmates, Mim and Eirene, at Cafe Rio. I ate the entire pork burrito in one sitting. And I LIKED it. We took the party to Eirene's house and chatted our heads off. We still didn't cover all we needed to. Between the four of us we have six kids! SIX KIDS! I tell you, it was trippy. Seems like just yesterday we were barreling through town in Mim's car to Blink 182. By the end of the day I'm pretty sure there was a point when everyone in the house was screaming at the top of their lungs. That's what adults get for having a day of fun and forgetting to enforce naps: nightmarish children. It was worth it though, right girls?

*Next stop: MUDDY'S! (Only Heather will appreciate this one.)

*Really, though, next stop was the homefront: Roosevelt, Utah. A place where you'd think nothing would ever change, but in fact has attracted many fine folks since I have left, what with the new hospital and all. So now they have tons of great stuff I never got to enjoy like modern dance lessons for kids and movies in the park and a walking path. Amazing stuff going on here people. Modern dance! I shiver when I think how much my life would be different if only I had learned to love modern dance as a wee little one.

*In Roosevelt the boys enjoyed a fishing trip while the girls watched chick flicks. And by chick flicks I mean "Marley & Me." What was I smoking? I hate dogs. I was bit by one when I was 17, right before junior prom (the nerve!) and have despised them ever since. The very next day, wouldn't you know it, I went for a jog and got bit by a dog. One decade later. It was like an anniversary of sorts. But, yeah, there are so many stray (and not stray) dogs in Roosevelt and NONE of them are on leashes. It should really deter me ... but, no. I just had to go. This dog was a little, yappy house dog (the biters are always the little yappy ones) that had just been let outside. It wasn't a bad bite, so I kept going. I got chased by two other dogs and got so scared I tried to hide behind a bush. It quickly became clear that they could still see me so I knocked on the neighbor's door for help. She was able to intimidate the dogs long enough for me to escape. I went back to the biting dog owner's house and told her about the dog bite. She said, "Oh, they've been checked for rabies. You should be fine." Thanks. I drove myself to the ER and got the second tetanus shot of my life. Those things hurt worse than the bite. That's the end of that. I'm fine. No agressive behavior of foaming at the mouth so far, so I feel good. When I got home from the hospital, animal control was at my door getting all the details. The next day I walked VERY slowly past Misty, Molly and Mandy, three unleashed weiner dogs who licked my ankles. GRRRRRRR. I HATE DOGS!

*Ate at two Roosevelt institutions and one up-and-comer: Marion's Variety, Round Robin and China Star. Marion's hasn't changed one bit since I ate my last BBQ burger there. Except they got rid of the penny candy. Round Robin is open only when the owner wants it to be and, when I was younger, no one knew when that would be. It would just suddenly be open, word would spread, and people would show up. The owner doesn't let some people in because of personal vendettas and may or may not yell at you, depending on how much noise you're making in the dining area. True stories, people. Best food in town. Seriously. China Star has Chinese food, Italian and Mexican. Who knew? We just go there for the Chinese food cuz for some reason that seems like what they do best. I don't know where I got that idea. It's where I discovered cream cheese wontons. Mmmmm.

*Learned a couple new words from my niece, Haven, and went to the rodeo. Not on the same day, though. That would be WAY too much fun for one day. "Pip" and "Woggely." Go ahead, try to use them in a sentence. Here's how she used them, "Hey, Mom, just pip it for me!" ??? "I don't want to get my hair wet because then it will be all woggely." You heard those words first here, folks! When they make it in the dictionary, just remember that. I think I should use FOLKS again. Because this IS a post about Roosevelt, after all.

*Also saw my wonderful old friends Shanna and Tyra and their kids. Is it just me or do kids just grow up suh fast! I love connecting with old friends. I really should make it a point to do it more.

*About that rodeo, Sienna was as calm as a clam throughout it. It was truly a sight to see. She hated the Dodger's game, oh yes! But a rodeo? She MUST have some of my Roosevelt blood. She must!