Unexpectedly Expecting

Seven quick takes

Idea for this post borrowed shamelessly from Jennifer at Conversion Diary.

1. Went to the Detroit Urban Craft Fair on a rainy, soppy, yucky Saturday afternoon yesterday. At the Filmore in downtown, right across from Comerica park, about 70 "indie" artists displayed all sorts of crafty goodness. I bought something at the very first table I came across. Then a table two more down. Then, with almost $40 gone, I was like, "OK. Time to slooooow down." Wound up leaving with a beautiful agate stone necklace, a lovely glass pendant in the shape of Michigan, and a "wristlet" purse thingy that will fit perfectly into a diaper bag and hold my wallet, phone, lipstick, etc. Awesome event! See more here, including a list of the great vendors, most of whom hawk their goods on Etsy.  I will probably have to revisit some of those artists at a later date.

2. Luke went from waking up only one time during a 12-hour period at night to waking up every three hours again. Of course, the change came the day before I started working again. And since I am now pumping during the day, I take care of all the night feedings. Before, Jimmy did one, giving me a nice five or six-hour stretch of sleep. The result of that was I usually felt pretty good, even as Luke was getting up a lot at night. Now I'm no longer getting that long stretch. I put him down at 7:45 and then put myself down at 10:30. He usually wakes up first at 1. Then at 3:30 or 4. Then at 6 or 7. It's frustrating simply because I thought we had moved on this.

3. I am running a blog for my dear, dear friend Kelly Kamm, who has left America for an eight-month stint in Mexicali, Baja, Mexico. There she will live with a pastor and his family in their small home that doubles as a church. She will teach the family English and start an ESL program for the neighborhood. She wants desperately to introduce people to Jesus along the way. AND she's studying the effects of cross-cultural sensitivity on mission trips as part of her second year of graduate study through Concordia. Lots going on with her, and you can read all about it at kellyinmexicali.wordpress.com. I warn you though -- reading about what she's doing will make you want to give back to someone, somehow, someway. 

4. I feel bad for Robert the cat. She is so clearly the second fiddle in our house these days. Of course, I still love her. But she is no longer my "baby." She doesn't get to sit with me like she used to. All fall, I probably took her outside to chase leaves once or twice. It used to be a daily occurance. I admit I don't even really notice her like I used to... It's only natural, I assume. But I still feel guilty. I need to pay her a little more attention. She needs my love, too!

5. Work this week was... interesting. Sometimes challanging. Sometimes boring. In one instance, downright humiliating. Altogether...different. I'm not used to showing up somewhere at the same time every day, to sitting at a desk, to warming up food in a microwave, to watching the clock. And my assignment is... um... well, we'll see. The jury is out. Right now, I sort of detest it. It doesn't really suit me. But I'm trying to make it work. As I said, jury is out. We'll see.

6. If you live in Detroit, do NOT miss the awesome Free Press Best burger roundup. I don't even like hamburgers that much, but reading through this photo gallery, I was ready to go to the nearest burger joint, plunk down $5 and sink my teeth into a big, old burger. You'll probably feel the same -- unless you are my veggie friend Jen, in which case, I'm sorry!

7. I have made a deal with my mom -- if I bring Luke to see her today, she will stop drinking Diet Coke for a week. I don't really believe her. She is way too addicted. And she has pretty weak willpower. But I hope she does it! I want her to get healthier for her own sake but also, selfishly, for MY sake. And Luke's sake. He loves his grandma, I can already tell. I want her sticking around.

Cat in the cradle

Before Luke was born, I wondered how Robert would react to having a new little creature around.  I thought through all the typical scenarios -- she would ignore him completely, she'd be jealous, she'd smother him in his sleep, she'd protect him, she'd be enamored with his milky breath. The reality turned out to be closest to that first option; for the most part, she hasn't given Luke the time of day. When she has lowered herself to acknowledge his presence, it's usually in a sort of fearful stare, especially when he starts wailing. Her ears will lower, she'll cock her head and look at him and then slink out of the room, headed for the quiet comforts of the basement.

But she is slowly warming up to him. She's appearing in his room a bit more after avoiding it for weeks. She even climbed into the recliner with the two of us the other day and curled up to take a nap in my lap -- where Luke was already laying as he nursed. But yesterday came the real breakthrough. I always thought we'd have a big problem trying to keep her out of the crib; like most cats, she loves confined spaces, especially cushy ones where she can take a nap. But for some reason, even before he was here, she never ventured into it. And once he claimed the territory as his own, she really stayed away.

Apparently, she's over it.

P.S. See all that stuff in the crib (besides the kitty)? I am probably endangering the little guy's life, right? All I ever hear is that you're not supposed to have anything in the crib but a fitted sheet and your babe. Bumpers? Evil. Stuffed animals. Eviler. Blankets? What kind of murderous mother are you?! I don't really buy into that philosophy... at least not now, when he's not capable of moving from where I put him. Am I a terrible mother? I just don't see the problem with a cute bumper or stuffed animals way over on the other side of his bed.

Someone really enjoys the new carpet in the nursery

She just loves it, I tell ya. And I love it, too!

I'm not in labor, P.S. I did have contractions for most of Thursday and Friday, but they seem to have vanished, and they were never strong. Just false labor, I suppose. But it's nice to know the engine is revving up down there...

The news that I was having contractions at all also served one great purpose -- it jump-started my motivation to tie up a bunch of loose ends. I shopped for some necessary stuff I didn't get from all the gracious folks at my showers, I set up the changing table, I unearthed the car seat from a huge box and thought long and hard about installing it (hey, that's progress!). And I bought some stuff I'll need for my hospital bag, including the only DD nursing bra in stock at Target.

And I have a crib! Well, almost. My dad is a doll and is going to drop it off today. I bought it last night at Babies R Us and then found there was no way to get the ginormous box into my itty-bitty Saturn. My back seats fold down, and I've fit many a ginormous box in there before, but this box trumped all ginormous boxes of the past. It was what you'd call a little wide. These two boys rolled it out to my car, telling me on the way there that there was no way it would fit. I told them in my most forced cheerful voice, "Let's just try!" I could feel them rolling their eyes at my back. Sure enough, there was no way that box was going to come even close to squeezing into my trunk. So the boys rolled it back inside and all the way into the warehouse. For about five minutes. Because then I had a bright idea. I went back in and had  the poor befuddled Babies R Us employees  bring me back my crib and then asked them to take it out of the box to see if it would fit in as individual pieces. So they rolled that sucker back out, slashed into the box and hoisted the first piece. And... no such luck. The poor lads then had to huff and puff and try to get all the pieces and Styrofoam and packing doo-dads to fit back into the ginormous cardboard box. I tried to help, but fitting it all back together was seemingly impossible.

Am I high-maintenance or what?

So my dad flies in to the rescue today with his sensible SUV. I feel a little bad about being so desperate to get this crib, but I can't explain how much better I feel knowing it is en route and will be set up by the end of the weekend. I just did not want to deal with it after Luke's birth. I am crazy Cribzilla woman. But I'm at least a happy crazy Cribzilla woman at this point.

Little kitty, change is a-coming

My kitty is in for a rude awakening. She's only got about a month left of being the proverbial baby around here. And believe me, she gets babied. Every morning, after she sits with me while I eat breakfast (read: lounges on top of my newspaper on the table, trying to drink the milk out of my cereal bowl) she follows me into my office, where she meows at me until I pick her up and hold her. She purrs her little head off as I rock her and smooch the top of her head for about 10 minutes or so. Then she begins her nagging period, where she asks me over and over whether we can go sit outside. Usually, I oblige.

She loves it out there.

Whether it's just sitting and enjoying the view...

Or rolling around blissfully on the sun-scorched pavement...

Or hiding in the bushes, pretending she's a fierce jungle kitty, ready to spring on her unsuspecting prey...

She just loves it. And I love those morning times outside together. too. Sometimes I read. Sometimes I sip a cup of coffee (a guilt-inducing dose of caffeine). Sometimes I just watch her. It's so peaceful in my backyard, my little corner of suburban bliss. Quiet and lush and quaint. I love watching Robert explore, the way she is endlessly curious about the world, the brave face she puts on when she stalks butterflies and squirrels, the defiance she sometimes displays when she doesn't want to go back inside quite yet. And she's always so thankful to be outside -- she routinely stops by my chair to rub her head against my leg in gratitude.

Those are lovely, serene moments for the two of us.

I know when Luke comes, the love I feel for him will obliterate the love I have for my little kitty Robert. I know that what I feel as Robert's "mother" won't compare to the ache of what I'll feel for a son. I admit, though, it's hard to imagine. I love that little cat so much. I worry about she'll take to the baby as a pregnant mother with one child probably worries about how the first child would feel.  In a way, it's scary to think how wide and deep my heart will open, how much it will grow and change, how vulnerable it will become as it wraps itself around a tiny infant.  I hope I'm ready for it. And I hope Robert  and I still get to enjoy our mornings outside together, even if in the future I'm holding a little baby in my arms as I sit. 

Things I will miss while zipping about the country for 10 days

The end of fall in Michigan. Maybe. I hope not, but I'm expecting most of the leaves will be gone by the time I get back.

Knowing I am being carefully watched as I shower by a little kitty who wants to make sure the evil water doesn't hurt me.

Sitting and reading in my big brown chair.

Even better, sitting there with a little kitty who wants to make sure none of the evil leaves outside dare to come near our house.

And last, the pitifully cute sounds my boy makes when I sabotage the last few moments of his sleep with the clickity-click of my camera. Actually, I miss him already.

The love story of MAX and Robert

Meet MAX. He lives next door. He's an indoor cat, but recently, he's been howling and meowing so much that he's driving our neighbors crazy. So, they've let him roam a bit. He never goes too far. In fact, usually, he doesn't make it past our yard. You see, he's got a tiny little crush on Robert. Who can blame him with her soft fur, beautiful stripes and bright green eyes? I have a crush on her, too. But poor Sam, it seems, is feeling the ache of unrequited love.

It started when they spotted each other through our back windows, which face one another across the neighbor's driveway. Since then, he's been enamored. And so yesterday morn, I heard his muffled meows. I knew, like many days, he'd come to one of our doors, hoping we'd open it up and let Robert come out.

After I came outside and gave him a few pets, he scampered under my car, where he can safely view the porch and front door, just in case Robert happens to waltz outside.

Inside, Robert took up a spot a safe distance from the doorway where she could see the drama unfold. She knew he was rustling outside for her, but sadly, she wants none of it. Whenever we try to bring the two lovebirds together, she just hisses. So sweet with people, such a little bitch with other kitties. Or maybe she's just playing hard to get.

Max, on the other hand, makes no mistake about his feelings.

I think it's sweet. But Robert on the other hand... She's just not interested. You can't force love.

Sometimes, I guess you're just too sleepy.

The battle for human attention just got tougher.

Meet Cookie. She is my new crush.

Isn't she delightfully silly with her pointy head and her fat body and her big fishy lips and her Dalmatian spotting?

She's one of the two new fish we added to our aquarium last night. She's mine. I picked her because I am entertained by fish that are funny looking. And when I put my finger on her tank at the store, she swam right over. Love at first through-the-glass sight.

We named her Cookie because, duh, she looks like Cookies 'N Cream ice cream, and the name Creamy just seemed weird. And because I don't know the names of any of those 101 puppies from that Disney movie.

We also brought home this little guy. His name is Beanie.
He is quite the hard guy to photograph. He's tiny, first of all. And he's quick. Kind of an anxious little fish. Always darting around. Pacing, back and forth, back and forth. And with his splashy blue stripe and orange tail, he actually blends in very well with our blue rocks and tropical background. Every time I try to find him, it takes me a minute. So this is the best I could do. I like Beanie alright, but I must be honest. He is no Cookie. Jimmy picked Beanie. He prefers the small zippy fish. He named him after some football player. Typical.

Don't believe me? Well, this is the first fish he picked. Tressel. As in Jim Tressel. As in the coach of the Ohio State football team.

Tressel used to have a brother named Brutus (as in the Buckeye's mascot), but sadly, Brutus was our first fish fatality. One morning, he had just peaced out on the bottom of the tank. Quite sad.

But like Tressel, Brutus was small and zippy. Lately, Tressel seemed out of sorts. Sluggish. Blah. We hope his two new friends enliven him. We wonder if maybe he got a little sick of being the small guy, always bossed around by Lulu, my other fish.

This is Lulu. Actually, her full name is Lulu Diamond Fishy.

Lulu is the prom queen of our aquarium. She is full of drama. She thinks she is quite divine with her lavishy long fins and diamond-colored sparkly scales and her red eyeshadow. (It takes a real diva to wear red eyeshadow.) I think the new fish will be good for her. Let her know there are other fish in the sea. So to speak.

With all this fishy photography, someone else started to get a little jealous. She sat by my side and meowed as if saying, "What the hell? Aren't I the star around here?" She stared at my camera equipment and seemed to think, "Why isn't that thingy fixed on me as usual?"

So she decided to do something about it. Namely, she nuzzled into the lens then flopped on the floor, begging for attention. Such a camera hog.

She is very good at diverting my attention. Poor fishies. How can they compete with a face like this?

They can't.

Although if anyone has a fighting chance, I have to say, it's the sweet little delectable Cookie.

Comedy

Yesterday, my adorable husband stood in the kitchen and talked to no one, which he often does. Well, I suppose he is usually directing his commentary at me, but I am often three or four rooms away with my nose in a book or something. So it seems as if he is talking to no one, although he certainly gets pissy when I "don't listen," so I know he's really talking to me.

Anyway, this is what I overheard:

"Robert's nickname should be "Yessiree!"

Pause. Pause. I finally realize he is talking to me and waiting for my response.

"Why?"

"Because then she would be, "Yessiree Bob!"

Grooooaaan.

Sorry, ladies. He's all mine.