A Conversation with a Giraffe

Setting: A sunny day outside with my Sophie the Giraffe and my camera happy mom. The conversation went a little like this: 

"Just hanging out in my loungy chair with my giraffe named Sophie.  She's French.  Oui."

"Oh Sophie the Giraffe, I love you so so much.  Your pitch black eyes.  Your squeaky body.  Your chewable ossicones."

"Yeah, that's what those little horns are called.  I'm glad my mom looked that up on Wikipedia and has been boasting how she knows that word now."

"Wait!  How did you end up upside down??"

"Oh, thank goodness.  You're right side up again.  But why does my mom keep taking pictures?"

"You know, Sophie, there may be a day when I find another toy I like.  But it doesn't mean I don't still love you.  This is hard to talk about..."

"Oh, who am I kidding!  You'll always be my favorite!"

Eating and Drinking,

Mary Douglass

Lots of Bad Pictures

I can't even imagine having a baby during a time before digital cameras. We take hundreds of pictures of our Sweet Girl, only to look back at the images and realize we have just one worth keeping.

Things were a little different for my parents....taking 24 pictures on their 35mm camera and getting them developed at their local Revco...only to discover that I had my eyes closed, mouth open or arms shaking in every single one of them. All for $4.99.

But today we click-click-click away and upload the good ones to Shutterfly (when there are 100 free print promos!) and laugh at the bad ones.

Here are some especially sweet bad ones:

Christmas Morning 2011

I have several questions about this fine gem of a picture: Why are Mimi's feet so red?  Why did I not put an angel or bow or anything on top of our tree??  Why do I still look pregnant?  Why is Mimi scratching her face...again?

Christmas Morning 2011.  Take 2.

Oh, so much worse.  Full on tantrum.  And still bright red feet.  And topless tree.

Another meltdown. 

I thought she looked cute in her Feltman Brothers' dress. She obviously disagreed.

Leaving the Hospital

This is actually a kind of sweet story. As we were leaving the hospital, a precious old lady wanted to take our picture. She had very cute blue hair and was possibly Moses' sister. Of course we wanted to indulge her.  And there was no way we were going to tell her how fuzzy the picture turned out.

Mimi on her 2 month birthday

"Mom, I'm not interested.  And my hair is all static-y."

Mountain Weekend, January 2011

It seems we stunned the little girl by making her leave her warm fireside place in the den to take a family picture outside.  It was quite chilly and she is not amused.

I'm sure we will have hundreds more bad pictures in the future.  And, don't worry, I'll be glad to share them here on the blog!

Eating and Drinking,

Mary Douglass

Who Were The Old Wives Anyways?

There are a lot of Old Wives' Tales about pregnancy, birth and babies.  And the whole time you are pregnant, you hear all of them at some point.

Most of them are about the sex of the baby.  This seems to be a big point of conversation.  I don't know how those women wait until delivery to find out if the little one is a boy or girl.  I imagine they get real sick of hearing all of these old wives' tales the whole time (because I was sure tired of them for 20 weeks!).

Here are some of the most popular ones I heard:

Craving sweets means a GIRL: This one was TRUE for me.  Normally, I am a "salty snacker."  Pre-pregnancy, I craved salt and vinegar chips, pickles and french fries.  But when I was pregnant, all I wanted was ice cream sundaes, pears, trail mix (with far too many M&M's!) and Icees.

Heartbeat above 140 (beats per minute) means a GIRL: More or less TRUE for me.  When we heard our little baby's heartbeat at 12 weeks, it was 140.  On the dot.  We asked the doctor if he'd like to guess the sex of the baby based on that heartbeat.  His answer?  "Sure, but I'm only right 50% of the time."  Har de har har, gynecology humor.

How you carry the baby - Horizontally is a GIRL, Right out in front is a BOY: TRUE for me.  I appeared pregnant from every angle.  I didn't just have a baby "bump," I had a baby "bulge." 

With Katherine at the beach for July 4th.  Oh, so pregnant.

Acne - Bad acne means GIRL and that she will be beautiful (because she's stealing all of Mama's beauty): TRUE!  Oh, the acne that I had (okay, fine, still have...). I like to consider it my first real mother-sacrifice because my baby really is good looking.

Morning Sickness - GIRL: FALSE! Didn't throw up once.  Had nausea once or twice before bed, but it wasn't anything a cookie didn't cure.

Heartburn means a head full of hair: FALSE!  Well, maybe it's true, but it's not required. My sweet girl was born with a very surprising amount of hair.  It's usually the first thing people comment on when they see her.  And after 2 and 1/2 months, most of the hair is still in place.  (We'll ignore that teeny bald patch on the back!)  Then, everyone asks how bad my heartburn must have been during pregnancy.  And, believe it or not, I didn't have any!  And I still enjoyed my jalapenos and spicy salsa without incident.

Mimi on January 1st at 2 months old!  Still so much hair!

So, just like all of the unsolicited baby advice that comes your way, just ignore the Old Wives' tales.  It's the only way to keep you sane throughout the pregnancy.

But will I now be one of those crazy women who tries to predict the sex of your baby?  Oh, you betcha.

Eating and Drinking,

Mary Douglass

Memories of The Salty Nut

Did you hear? The Salty Nut burned!  It's been all over the news and Facebook is about to implode from all the status updates about it, so if you haven't heard, your internet must be down or something.

Now, it's been several years since I darkened the doors of that fine establishment, but it still has a sweet place in my heart. It was my go-to bar in grad school and I spent many a night throwing peanut shells on the floor, drinking Bud Light and admiring former frat boys in visors (I should add that this was mostly Pre-Stan...).

I loved the doorman.  I loved when I wasn't there on a Thursday night, he would ask me where I'd been.  (Although if that was happening now, I'd be more embarrassed than impressed.  But I was 23 at the time, so it was awesome!)

My favorite St. Patrick's Day was sitting on the back porch watching all of the debauchery and drama unfolding with the undergrads (and more than likely, underaged) in front of Pavlov's until late in the night with Emily.

I have a great memory of my first hamburger there with Kathryn.  Somehow we had been going to The Nut for over a year and had yet to actually eat anything besides the roasted peanuts.  And we were both pleasantly surprised at how delicious the burger was!  And when we were completely stuffed and satisfied and they took away our baskets...we both dived back into the roasted peanuts on the table.  Why is it that we can't resist free food sitting on the table??

I loved the thrill of getting a good outside table on a perfect spring day.  So what if that meant getting there at 3:30 in the afternoon?  This was obviously before I had a real job with real responsibilities to get to the next morning.  These days I'd have to take several personal days just to recover from an afternoon of drinking.  And I have a baby to take care of now.  Can't forget that.

I hope that they will rebuild the Salty Nut.  It was ideal for everyone who is in that part of life after college and before babies. 

With Caroline, I think after a football game (which makes sense, because it looks very crowded at The Nut).  The real question is - why I am holding my wallet and where is my purse?  Was I confused that my wallet was a clutch?  Was that cool in 2009?

With Doug and Emily at my favorite people watching table (right by the bar, near the door).  Does Emily's head look unusually large?  Just sayin...

A big group shot on the back porch.  We were so excited to be wearing sundresses, but I think it was actually pretty cold that night!

I think I just may have to sleep in my navy blue Salty Nut t-shirt tonight just for ol' times sake!

Eating and Drinking,

Mary Douglass

We have a smile!

The Fourth didn't believe me. He said it was gas.

But I think we have a smile!

With her 1st Angel Ornament

Okay, more of a smirk than a smile.

Same chair.  Different outfit.  But proof that it wasn't just a one day fluke.

Somewhere between a smile and a cry. Baby has some emotional issues.

I like to think she's just saving her smiles for me.

Of course, she also seems to save other activities just for me, too: projectile spit-up, blow-out diapers, piercing screams right in my ear and scratches from her talons tiny fingernails.  The Fourth has managed to avoid all of those fun activities so far.  But if it means I'm getting smiles, I'll take it!

Eating and Drinking,

Mary Douglass

Baby Clothes With No Purpose

Lounging on her Boppy.

I was hanging out with the baby today and admiring just how cute she looked in her sweet Kissy Kissy gown. 

The gown has everything you want in baby clothes: It's soft.  It has the sweet scalloped edge you only see on baby clothes.  It's easy to snap off and on.  It has the little sleeves that fold over her jagged fingernails. 

It has a tiny pocket on the chest. 

Wait, a pocket?!

Why would a baby need a tiny pocket?!  Is she carrying around her credit card?  Does she use it to store pens for ready access (and does it come with tiny pocket protectors to prevent ink spills?)?  Does she keep her car keys in it?  Maybe spare change? 

I really can't think of a single reason why a baby would need a pocket.  I even tried to put her pacifier in it, but it was too small.  At 6 weeks old, a pacifier is really the only accessory she has at this point.  (Well, except for hairbows.  With that much hair, I'm taking full advantage of hairbows already!)

Of course, about 90% of my sorority tees had a chest pocket that had no real purpose, so maybe she's just preparing for a closet full of party tees.

Eating and Drinking,

Mary Douglass