Peek a Boo

Every night this week Morgan has been at the Freemason lodge learning all those super secret (yawn) super fabulous things he has to learn.  Every night.  Which means I feel like I've been running a baby care marathon all week.  And I think next week he's doing the same thing.  Peek a Boo Daddy, who comes home to eat and then is gone again till just about bedtime.  

Really, I only think I'm this worn down because Sam hasn't been sleeping well at all.  I think he's been having bad dreams.  Not so bad that I have to cuddle him in the middle of the night.  Just bad enough that he gives one good wail or loud whimper while his eyes are still closed and then he's out again.  Sometimes he needs a paci shoved into his mouth, but not often.  But it happens every hour and a half.  Almost like clock work.  Peek a Boo, no sleep for you.

At least yesterday I got to visit a friend for half a day.  Spend some quality time with her cute, pregnant butt.  See her townhouse which has JUST been finished and is now ready for her to move in.  Drop off some unused baby loot that I hope will come in handy in a couple months when her little boy (we think) arrives.  And have a conversation or 5 that does not start with "Baa baa boo goo DAAA!"

And today I plan on playing with this little twerp as much as possible so he'll go to sleep easily at the end of the day.  Tonight Morgan is going to a Springsteen concert when he gets off work.  Which means he won't be home at all till 1 or 2am.  Another long day of solo parenting.  Peek a Boo, indeed.  Wear your adorable little ass out.

Vacation!

Okay, I guess I should have left off that exclamation point cause it was the husband's vacation, not mine.  But nonetheless he was off work for a week and therefore around a bit more.  Which is nice.

Vacation started with taking daddy with us to Babies with Books at the library.  He enjoyed it and now understands what I'm talking about when I tell him how much fun Sam has there.  Bonus points cause Morgan had the Goodbye Song stuck in his head for a couple days!  Now he knows my pain.

Then he left for 3 days to go to the beach with his friends.  Now, I know what you're thinking.  "He did what?  And left you and the baby at home?  Do you get to have NO fun?"  Well, sort of.  But this is the traditional beach trip the boys have been taking since they graduated high school together.  I'm not one to stand in the way of tradition.  Besides, the trade off (of sorts) was that I got to sleep in just about every day that he was home on his vacation.  Sleep is my vacation.

We're also kicking around the idea of maybe going somewhere together come November or December.  Being an ex-retail slave, the idea of taking a vacation during that black out time excites me to no end!  So much so that last night I had a depressing dream about getting called back to work at the mall.  Working retail sucks during the holidays.

"Don't know what you talkin bout, Momma.  I ready for da beach!"

Anywho - moving on.  While Morgan was gone Sam and I held down the fort and spent a day visiting Gg-ma.  Which is always a good time.  Plus she took us/me out to lunch.  Score.

He likes visiting Gg-ma too.  Her couch is extra squishy and the clock makes noise.

Saturday was spent doing domestic things and getting Morgan unpacked from his trip.  Shopping (killer Kohl's sale), cleaning, and a lot of sleeping for me.  Sunday was a lazy day.  Meaning no one got out of their pajamas.

Yesterday we went to a friends house for a BBQ.  So. Much. Fun.  Tons of kids running around doing kid things, lots of food, dogs, chickens, and adult conversation.  Just what I needed.  

And thus ended the husband vacation.  Not a lot happened.  But that's okay.  I have this one to keep me entertained.  Not to mention the outfit envy.  Seriously, I want this exact outfit in my size.  It looks so comfy and colorful fun.  He's fun.

Shape sorting toy.

You're doing it wrong.

Masonic Family Picnic

Morgan has recently joined the Freemasons.  That is pretty much all I know about that.  I hope he enjoys it.  I plan to enjoy the fringe benefits, such as the annual family picnic.  Dude, free fried chicken.

I was pleasantly surprised to see as much young blood as I did at the picnic.  I was expecting for it to be the over 65 crowd and then us.  In fact, there were a total of 3 babies in attendance.  We had fun meeting a few people, making small talk with the men who had interviewed Morgan for his membership, spending most of our time playing with the boy, and avoiding the obnoxiously loud rock band they had hired.

"My daddy is a Freemason!  I don't know what that means."

"Are all these old men my grandpa's?"

"I am not amused."

"So sleepy.  Hmmm. . .boob pillow."

"Once again.  I am not amused.  And why can't I have fried chicken?"

Yum, It's Thursday

Awkward ahoy!  It's been a strange two days over here.  Lets start with the cute, little, sweet Samuel and his first ever real food!  He cried with confusion at first.  He didn't understand why we were spooning goop into his mouth.  But then he had a eureka moment and realized this was FOOD.  He was happy.  In fact we couldn't shovel that stuff into his pie hole fast enough.  And he screamed with great fury when it was all gone.  He is truly our son.

And now for the awkward.  My MIL.  Late Thursday night we got an email from Morgan's uncle (he didn't have our phone #) letting us know the police were looking for MIL.  They didn't have many details other than it involved a hit and run car accident and the police could not find MIL because she has not switched any of her ID's over to Maryland since she moved there in October.  And MIL had her phone turned off, so no one could get a hold of her.  But they wanted to let Morgan know that the police were on their way over to her apartment.

Oh Joy.

The next morning we kept calling her trying to get her on the phone.  Trying to make sure she was okay and didn't need any help.  Her phone was still off.  10am rolled around and her phone was still off.  1pm and her phone was still off.  3pm and her phone was still turned off.  Morgan was scared.  His mother has threatened to kill herself just about every week for the past 8 years.  She doesn't handle confrontation well.  She freaks out very easily.  And she had already had a really, really bad week leading up to the apparent car accident.  He didn't know what to do.  I loaded the baby up in the car and we all drove over to MIL's apartment to check on her since there was nothing else we could do.

45 minutes later we are standing on her front porch knocking on the door.  No answer.

Knock again much louder.  No answer.  We looked at each other with worry and Morgan fumbled in his pocket trying to find his key to her place.  Then we heard the faint *clink clink* of her walker on the other side of the door.  Morgan's shoulders slumped down with a big sigh of relief.  "At least she's alive." he whispered to me as we waited for her to unlock the door.

So yeah.  She's fine.  Or at least as fine as she can be after it was obvious we were there to see if she was still alive or not.  There is no damage to her car.  The man she tapped with her car while in line for the McDonald's drive thru is just as crazy as she is and reported the accident as a hit and run even though they stopped and exchanged information and all that jazz.  Everything was blown out of proportion and MIL got a stern talk from us about not turning off her phone for ridiculously long periods of time.

This Time Last Year, again

June 24th, 2011 was the day I found out I was pregnant.  It's also the day we all gathered for the Mid Summer's Eve Feast last year.  It was a crazy amount of fun.  So was Mid Summer's Eve this year.  Err, last night.

Bumbo King

Dinner, dancing, drinking.  The 3 D's that make this feast a very special one.  Last year Ryan set the yard on fire.  This year Matt almost exploded the fire barrel.  Last year I didn't dance because I was freaking out over my positive pregnancy test.  This year I danced, pranced, and wrestled my husband to the ground.  Last year it was a fun gathering of adults.  This year there was a squirmy little pink baby stealing all the smiles.

Uncle Ryan

"Wait, when do I throw the flowers into the fire?"

"You watch child, must drink beer."

Sam was once again a very good little boy.  Although he would get upset whenever someone else would hold him for more than a couple minutes.  I guess maybe the "Stranger Danger" phase is starting?  He fought his nap while at Uncle Matt's place because there was so much going on and it was stopping him from settling.  But by 9pm he passed out in his travel bed till it was time for us to pack up and go home at 1am.  Good baby continues to be good.  

He is my squishy and I love him.

One of us Still Works

Hey!  Looky here!  A post that doesn't involve my crotch parasite!

At the risk of jinxing it, things have been looking up for the hubby at work.  He's in line for one of several promotions.  He's the lone cubical slave that has been selected for training seminars and meetings for his region.  He has been requested multiple times to head projects and cross train others in what he does.  And to go along with these professional thingies he had to create a bio.  Like, a real bio.  Who he is, where he went to school, what he specializes in, what his hobbies are, and his family life.  And he needed a picture for said bio.  He asked me to take it for him.  Mehe.

Blah.  It's fine.  Nothing special.  He doesn't like it, but then he doesn't like any photos of himself.  But what you can't see is the rest of the outfit.  Short tie, tight sweatpants, barefoot.  This is what happens when you work from home.  I still think THIS should be his bio photo.

Professional Hobbit

Huge Hands, Little Baby

A 9 pounds baby is a big baby.  But I love how he looks so wee in the hands of his daddy.

Seriously.  Look at that little podling face and his daddy's meat mits.

Podling?  Oh yes.  That is his nickname now.  His little face and his happy "I just ate" expressions make us laugh every time because he looks exactly like a Podling from "The Dark Crystal", one of our favorite movies from childhood.

Well, maybe a little less creepy than this podling puppet.  Cause my boy is cute.  Cute, I say.

Pappy G.

Grandpa, Grandma, MIL, Morgan, Oaf Me

Don't you just hate it when you're looking for a good photo of someone and you suddenly realize that you didn't take any?  Have I really been around my husband's family for this long and don't have a single good picture of his grandfather?  How is that possible?  But it's true.  I can't find a single one.  So here's a pretty bad photo from my wedding.  Random chairs, lots of empty space, and one unhappy MIL.  This, my friends, is what you get when you hire the cheapest wedding photographer you can find.

Cropping is a good thing.

Late Tuesday night, Morgan's Grandpa passed away.  He had been in failing health for a while.  The family had been put on notice that the end was near about a week ago.  At the age of 86, after 66 years of marriage, Pete (real name Clyde, don't ask) passed away peacefully in his sleep with one of his many children at his side.  Viewing is tomorrow night, funeral is Saturday.

He was a very kind man with a very firm mindset on the way things should be.  Him and Grandma were the ones who worked to keep MIL involved with the family and refused to let her be excluded from family functions just because she was no longer married to their son.  I credit them with the fact that Morgan has any kind of a relationship at all with his dad, as the divorce was one hell of a bitter debacle and MIL still curses his name to this day.  As you can imagine, Morgan was very close to his Grandpa.  As all of the grandchildren and great grandchildren were.  He will definitely be missed and his loss will no doubt leave a big hole in their family that I don't think will ever be filled.

It's a shame that Simon Arthur Samuel Mongo Eino Delano Dennis G. will never get to meet him.  I wish I had taken more pictures.

Distant, but Could be Inbreeding

So. . . Yeah. At that party we had for Morgan's relatives last week his Uncle surprised us by giving us a book detailing the family history for my MIL's family. He had to sneak this book to us so my MIL would not pitch a holy hell fit that it was being passed to Morgan instead of her, but that's another story.

The History of the Descendants of John Hottel was published in 1930 and details the lives of everyone involved starting in the 1700's. Pretty awesome. It even gives details of what their weddings were like. This morning we were flipping thru the pages looking for baby name inspiration when we came across a section dedicated to all the Seibert's in the family. No shit.

Seibert, being my maiden name, is German in origin and not overly common. It's not like Smith or something like that. There are a bunch of us in our area, but only because we all decended from one horny man who liked to sleep around and steal horses. Or so the story goes.

So, this means there is a decent chance that my family and Morgan's family has a few roots in the same tree. Good news is that these ancient relatives lived in the early to mid 1800's. Plenty of genetic diversity has been breed in since then. But still, what are the odds of that?

Williamsburg, Va

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Fingers Crossed

In about an hour we will be leaving for our vacation.  Just a quick 4 day getaway.  But I am a little nervous.  Why?  Because for the past couple of years it seems like my vacations are cursed.  Morgan got poison ivy, horrible and I do mean horrible weather, my uncle died, me dealing with the after effects of a miscarriage and  D&C, Morgan tore a ligament in his ankle, etc.  Can you understand why I feel a little cursed?

And then the 4 days leading up to our 4 day vacation have been. . .well. . .troublesome.  On the 1st our hotel called and left a voicemail to let us know they were cancelling our reservations.  They needed to close the hotel for repairs from the hurricane.  Not sure why they didn't let me know until 3 days before our check in.  But I scrambled and found reservations at a nice looking place, something I was worried about since this is a holiday weekend.
Then Morgan calls from the beach (vacation with his friends) to let me know he just finished burning his clothes because they took a hike in an area infested with Lyme Disease carrying deer ticks.  They didn't see the CDC warning signs until they had already spent several hours on the trail.  Go back and read that again.  Yeah.  They had to set off a bug bomb in Ryan's car to make sure they killed all the ticks.  The tiny little ticks that they could see swarming all over their legs once they stopped and bothered to look.  And let me remind you that Matt already has Lyme's Disease due to a hike they took several years ago, so he was freaking out.  Thank God for smartphones and quick internet searches so they could figure out what to do.

So wish us luck!  And nobody die.