winter event

Oh, Texas, you winter tease.  All week long, we were being prepped for a WINTER EVENT.  Snow, they said!  Frigid temps!  Schools may close!  Travel advisories!  So like the rest of my Texas friends, I ran out mid-week and bought Mister A his very first winter coat to be ready for THE EVENT.  It was slim pickings out there, so the style wasn't one I'd probably choose if given more options, but it's warm and it fit.  After coat shopping, we stopped at the grocery store to stock up on milk and diapers and green olives and cat food- you know, the things the various inhabitants of our household would die a swift death if stranded without.  And Friday morning, we waited (well, I waited) in breathless anticipation of this winter event.  And waited.  And waited.  I put in a pot roast, thinking surely we'd need something warm and wholesome to get us through THE EVENT.  Annnnnd waited.  We went out for a walk in the late morning hours and saw a few flurries in the air.  But surely that wasn't THE EVENT, so we waited some more.  And around 1:00pm, four fluffy snowflakes spun down from the clouds, hit the driveway, and melted. 

Then the sun came out.

The end of THE EVENT.

At least I got some cute pictures of the little man out of this.  And I will say, snow or no snow, the coat was a good buy.  The temperature here in Austin this morning?  In the twenties.  That's actually COLD, I don't care who you are or where you live.  If Ralph, woodland creature hunter extraordinaire, refuses to go outside...it's cold.

My winter boy:

I call this one...."MOM!  THERE'S NO SNOW!  And I can't lift my arms!"

To top off the snowless letdown of a day, we ended up back at the pediatrician's office in the late afternoon.  Ear infection, round three.  Or round one dragging out for a month.  I can't tell you which, because someone's petrified shrieks made it kind of hard to hear what Dr. C was telling me about his ears.  It sounded kind of like this "right ear ...  WAAAAHHHHHHH ... persistent ... WAAAAAHHHHH ... two week recheck ... WAAAHHHHHHH ... just pay me my $30 copay and get out of here because you're scaring the other children" and off to CVS we went for another bottle of drugs.  All I know is, he has this one last antibiotic and one last chance for the ears to heal.  If not, we'll be referred to a specialist to investigate.  So if you've got any "get-better-A's-ears" vibes laying around, send those our way.  

mullet house

My house has a Christmas light mullet.  

Business in the front...

Party in the back!

You see, when it comes to Christmas lighting, J's of the "keep it simple" train of thought.  White lights.  Straight lines.  Understated.  (Boring, if you ask me.)  Me?  I didn't even know tiny white lights existed until I was 20.  At my house, we were all about the old school, big colored bulbs strung round the tree, on the roof, around the door.  But J holds strong to his belief that the holiday lights, they must be white and tiny.  So this year, as has become habit by our 5th marital Christmas, I gave J his way with the front of the house.  Because he's the boss.  Because he puts the lights up and I don't really have a choice since I don't know how to put up lights.  But the back porch?  MINE!  I OWN IT.  Thanks to a little help from my ever helpful FIL, I have the lights of my childhood Christmases past strung up, down, and all around my back porch.  It's a total kitsch-fest, it's probably costing us $20 a day in electricity, and I'm pretty sure our neighbors (other than my appreciative little buddy Drew) are confused about the illumination mishmash.  But mama's happy.  

Hungry.  

But happy.

goodbye, cookies

You know what you never want to see happen when you're having bloodwork done at a lab?  The lab tech, upon reading your results, letting out an incredulous snort.  And of course, because my reproductive system is on some crazy relentless vendetta against me, this is exactly what happened to me at the lab yesterday.  Gestational diabetes testing.  (Those of you who know me well or who have followed along since ye old blog know I was plagued with GD during my pregnancy with Mister A.)  So the night before the test, I ate a juicy, protein-rich steak with a super tantalizing side of plain green beans- not the famous GBC.  And when my good intentioned but seriously forgetful husband came home with a loaf of hot french bread to accompany the meal, I promptly marched him into the backyard to hand over the carb-infested loaf over the fence to my favorite neighbor.  Yes, he pouted.  Yes, I know I'm mean.  Too bad.  I fasted through the morning.  I glug-glugged my sugary test drink on the way to the lab and damn near drove off the road when the sugar high hit.  And then, I had my blood drawn and failed.  Miserably.  So miserably that the lab tech had to apologize for her lack of professionalism for that little snort thing she did.  

Here's the funny part- my reaction was kind of a nonchalant "well, that sucks".  My reaction upon receiving this same GD news last time, circa (way back in) July 2008?  Woohooboy.  It was more "this is the end of the world and why can't my body ever do anything right and I'm going to read all the worst case scenarios and worry myself sick and cry myself to sleep for days!!"  I think the reason for the contrasting dispositions is twofold.  First, I'm all around more sane this time around, I know crying will just give me puffy eyes and make me want ice cream even more, and I just don't have the luxury of time to wallow in self pity.  Second and most importantly: I know the reward is worth the struggle, ten times over.  I know holding my little Bumblebee safe and sound on February 12 will be sweeter than any frosted sugar cookie or heaping bowl of Cap'n Crunch.  (Well, I'll hold her with one arm.  The other will be busy holding a bag of Reese's PB cups and a chocolate shake.)  But seriously- I know what is in store for us on that day, I know how fast these weeks will go, I know there's absolutely nothing in the whole world I couldn't give up if it means that all consuming, heart exploding joy will come on February 12 like I did on September 17. 

I must say though, it helped ease the pain having a doctor who happens to be a medical genius.  Through his intensive, in-depth, proven research, Dr. S tells me he's found it to be true that diabetes magically disappears on holidays.  Just *poof* gone!  So if you need me this month on the 24th or 25th, check the kitchen.  Under the pile of sugar cookies.

So, there you have it.  I've got GD.  Again. 

On to the good news- Bumblebee looks fabulous.  She's not measuring all that far ahead (60th percentile...her big brother was always around the 90th, making her a peanut in comparison).  She was opening and closing her little mouth over and over again like she was carrying on a one-sided, very fascinating conversation with herself in there.  Movement good, heartbeat good, the cutest chubby cheeks.  So she's good, that's what matters, and that's what will carry me through the next 67 days of joyless eating.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to the pantry purging.  Goodbye, beloved sweets and comforting carbs.  After this, A and I head to the grocery store to stock up on essentials (sugarless, carbless essentials).  If you hadn't heard, Austin's about to be hit by a BIG HUGE WINTER STORM.  One that could leave a dusting of snow.  And if we get that dusting, the Mister and I will be going nowhere near the mean streets of Austin until the sunshine and 60+ degree temps return.  My Austinite compadres may be good at a lot of things, but they do not know how to handle a car in inclement weather, so we'll be hibernating in our safe, warm house until the Decemberish weather moves on through.

a check-in

I'm just finally coming down from my sugar cookie/turkey/stuffing high long enough to put together a quick blog post, lest my loved ones start to think me a blog slacker.  As usual, we're enjoying ourselves in California.  The family is fabulous, the sunshine is constant.  There's been a lot of shopping.  For the first time in....well, ever, I ventured to the mall on Black Friday.  Pregnant and prone to cankles.  With a toddler whose mall trips are limited to the short and sweet.  It wasn't my idea to join the deal hunting masses, but I'll admit I wasn't all that tough to persuade.  And guess what?  It was FUN!  Not too crowded, great deals galore, people watching after I'd made a nice dent in my Christmas shopping list.  And the Mister?  A total trooper.  As usual.  Other than a little lunch time insanity involving tossed apple fries for which he's completely forgiven since someone lost track of time and didn't feed him lunch until 2pm.  Whoops.

Mister A, recuperating on a mall bench at the end of our Black Friday adventure:

"Hey, Grandpa?  That's my hood, not a leash."

Not much else to report.  The usual pre-departure mixed emotions.  Mostly sadness to see a week I've long awaited come to an end as we say goodbye to departing family members one by one before our turn comes on Tuesday.  But of course, excitement about getting home to J, the pup, the kitties, and the continuation of the household Christmas-izing.  Oh, and there's some dread- I've got the gestational diabetes test awaiting me at the OB on Wednesday.  I'm pretty sure it should be illegal to test one for GD after a week of mass (and practically mandatory) carbohydrate and sugar consumption, but wish me luck anyway.  Hopefully the appointment will include a look at Bumblebee, who is growing at warp speed if my daily expanding tummy is any indication.  Orrrr....maybe that's the sugar cookies and stuffing.  I dunno.

happy thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving from Anderson!

mister vogue

This is what happens when Mister A's grandpa takes too long at the Gap checkout line.  Mister gets bored, and Auntie and mommy entertain him (er ... themselves) with an impromptu photo shoot.  Complete with props.  And a little man who is clearly no stranger to the camera ... what a ham!

On this Thanksgiving-eve, I give thanks for so much.  My kind and loving J, my precious and sunny A, my sweet and busy Bumblebee, my amazing parents and sister and brother, my wonderful in laws, my far-flung family who are never far from my heart.  My beautiful friends who inspire and entertain and stand by through thick and thin.  My warm home, my good health, my adorably insane pet-kids ... my abundance of blessings both everyday and miraculous.  

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  xoxo

so mean!

See this stink eye?

THAT is the stink eye of a boy with very, very mean parents.  Parents who say NO.  No to what, you ask?  No to joining daddy on the roof during yesterday's holiday light hanging project:

So mean of us, right?  I stayed inside with A, trying to engage him in books and dancing around to our Elf Christmas soundtrack CD and a discussion about whether he preferred my chestnut short Uggs or my chocolate tall Uggs with this outfit or that....all to no avail.  He just kept going to the window and making faces like this:

and this:

Hopefully, he'll realize I'm really not so mean when we get off the plane tonight and he finds I've taken him to see Grandma, Grandpa, Auntie Megs, and Uncle Michael for a very fun week of family and food and football.  And the beach.  Obviously.