all is bright

We celebrated Christmas early with Joshua's parents this past weekend, a tradition we started when they moved back to the area and we were all balancing family commitments and work over the actual holiday (hint: I was the only one with a work conflict). There was a time when I thought maybe we wouldn't be able to spend the weekend anymore after having kids, but as Matilda gets older I couldn't be more thankful for the memories we are making here and for the way she adores this place. Joshua's parents house is comfortable to the point of mild sedation - a grownup's lazy wonderland of freshly ground coffee, thick napping blankets, homemade treats, and other people who are making sure Matilda doesn't slam her fingers in doors or gleefully lunge for the stairs. And Matilda is currently just smitten with her grandparents (she stopped saying Gamma and Boppa a few days ago in favor of the oh so logical "Boppa" and "Other Boppa").

This weekend, being away from home and celebrating Christmas with our family also felt like an incredible privilege in light of the tragedy of yet another gun massacre last Friday. I have not stopped thinking about the families of the children and teachers who are now gone. The despair that I feel just imagining Matilda's life ending in a senseless, horrific way is so deep that I cannot comprehend the grief these parents and families are experiencing. I am so thankful that she is far too young to understand what kind of violent world we live in. Her biggest problems are parental blockades to both snacks on demand and unlimited access to Sesame Street, and I will fight to keep her life that way as long as possible.

This gem is the closest thing we got to a family picture this weekend, at least on our camera. And it's a few days later and I feel both grateful and selfish over my relief that the three of us are still here and living and breathing. I'm thankful for this fleeting, precious time on earth in ways that I wish I felt everyday, and not just in light of horrific news. For the big things like our faith and this season of Advent and for the little things like after-bathtime toddler curls and gifts wrapped up in glittery teal paper. We are praying desperately for all of those whose families are no longer complete and who are suffering instead of celebrating this week. 

 Donations to support the Newtown community can be directed here, through the United Way of Western CT, or here, through a fund set up by the community itself. Lastly, a group of artists on Etsy are donating a portion of their proceeds to that United Way fund - you purchase from them here.

Oh Hello

Time for a quarterly update on all the Havi happenings? Sure. Matilda felt my old choking and dying netbook needed to face just one more challenge and ripped the spacebar off a few months ago, but now I have a shiny new Mac and no excuses about how typing is so hard (you rip off your spacebar and try it).

Fall was rather lovely here in Chicago. It was warm, the foliage was as good as this New Englander could ask for from the Midwest, we managed to apple pick and pumpkin carve and dress our daughter up as Elmo for the Lincoln Square Halloween festivities. She was a little thrown off by all the other kids screaming "ELMO!" in her face, and we were a little thrown off by the adults who shoved their kids in her face while avoiding eye contact with us and saying in an odd whisper/yell,"looook! ellllmmooo!" It was neat. 

My incredibly inspiring friend Amy ran the marathon in October, and we CTA-hopped all over the city to see her at mile 10ish, 20ish, and the finish line. Matilda was awesome and only once did she actually try to run away into the street and join the marathon (true story). She helped hold up signs for Auntie Amy, did not complain when her lunch consisted of an applesauce and crab rangoons on the street in Chinatown, and appropriately fell asleep right as we saw Amy turn the corner and head up to the finish line.  

Also, I don't know if you've you ever carried a stroller with a 29 pound toddler in it up and down dozens and dozens of stairs to and from the L tracks, but 1) it was sort of the crowning achievement of our almost two years of urban parenting, and 2) Joshua and I hobbled around for a day or two like we had run the marathon instead of leisurely puttering from spectator location to spectator location.

We hosted Thanksgiving for the first time and after much late night obsessive googling and seeking constant support from friends and Alton Brown, we brined and roasted our first turkey and oh, we owned it. My facebook profile picture is still Joshua and I standing over that turkey. We celebrated on Wednesday night with Joshua's family, his sister's boyfriend, and super marathoner Amy who is all the family I'm ever going to get here in the heartland (sob!) but if I had to pick someone to spend every holiday with, it would obviously be her anyways. It was really a wonderful night. Of course we barely picked up the big camera, but we did instagram that dinner to death.

Before everyone arrived, we managed to catch some shots of Matilda eating cranberry sauce for lunch. She looks like such a grown up girl in that picture on the right, but after searching through last years Thanksgiving pics I'm happy to say that, beneath those long curls and despite those pearly chompers, she still has the same rosy baby cheeks and sweet smile as last year. Keep changing slowly, firstborn child of mine.

Joshua's parents and sister left Thursday morning to visit his brother's family in Texas, and we lazed around watching the parade and football until I left to give thanks at work with the NICU babes. I have to say that waking up on the holiday with leftovers all ready to go is actually an amazing way to celebrate the holiday. Wednesday Thanksgivings forever!

My favorite part of the year is really the weekend after Thanksgiving when you are still full and making turkey sandwiches slathered in cranberry sauce for every meal and still feeling very blessed, but you also know that you can now celebrate Christmas without feeling like you are shortchanging Thanksgiving. We don't do Black Friday, so it's the weekend when Christmas still feels sort of far away and you think you have all the time you need for wrapping and baking and creating holiday cheer (you don't). In that spirit, we have all these magical plans to go tromping through snowy fields someday and cut down our own tree, but this year in the time we had allotted (Sunday evening after I had worked three overnights in a row) and the attention span of our child (short, prone to violence with containment), we were only able to pull off the magical run-into-home-depot-and-pick-which-tree-looks-like-it-would-be-most-beautiful-without-this-netting-on-it experience. 

This festive activity culminated in a certain child being carried out of Home Depot kicking and screaming, and required Joshua to saw off the lower branches because we did not have the time or apparently, the parenting skills, to hold our family together and wait in line for that at the store. But lo! our tree is actually beautiful sans net, and there are no huge holes or birds nests or anything else terrifying and nature-ish. A Christmas miracle! 

We are still enjoying the Christmas season and thank God for jeggings and scrubs because the delicious spoils from multiple cookie exchanges keep piling up on our counter. Luckily stress is counteracting the saturated fat because this week Matilda learned how to lock herself in her room (a day that shall live in infamy because 1) it was literally Pearl Harbor Day and 2) the comedy of errors that occurred was actually unbelievable) and she also learned how to throw herself out of her crib. This made for a rough parenting weekend. Then last night she insisted on extra hugs and kisses before bed and said "Nigh nigh, I slweepy, Mama" and pulled her blanket over herself to emphasize the point so my little heart grew three sizes that day.

Christmas Eve

This is the first time in four years that I'll be spending Christmas Eve with Joshua instead of at work with sick babies and their heartsick families. I've never been that upset about having to work on Christmas - I feel very selfish once I walk into the hospital missing my healthy happy family at home and am smacked in the face gently reminded that here are so many people living out their worst nightmares over the holiday season. But of course I'm thrilled to be able to go to Christmas Eve service at our own church and enjoy a Christmas morning that doesn't start with me in scrubs (it ends with me in scrubs, since I am working tomorrow night, but our sweet healthy girl will be already be off to bed with visions of sugarplums dancing in her head. What are sugarplums? I think we need some).

Joshua and I have talked so much about how we want to create the mystery and excitement of Christmas for Matilda in the upcoming years. This year, I think she is overwhelmed enough by ornaments that are just out of reach, her beautifully illustrated board book of the Christmas story, and the satisfying crunch of brown paper packages tied up with string.

We took that song (and our commitment to not wasting tons of paper) seriously, so here we have Trader Joes bags turned inside out to wrap up our gifts. I think this is exactly what Julie Andrews had in mind, right?

We always sleep in front of the tree on the first night that we put it up. We've been doing this since the first year we were married and it's my favorite silly holiday tradition that Joshua and I created ourselves. We grew up with different family ideas on Santa (him: in moderation, me: in absentia), and we aren't sure how we will present jolly old St Nick to Matilda. I don't know anyone who is particularly scarred in their adult life by either the inclusion or exclusion of Mr Claus in the Christmas magic that their parents weaved for them. But we are most concerned that Matilda realizes that waking up in front of glittery trees and unwrapping gifts are not the only way, and not at all the reason, that we celebrate this holiday. We want her to grow into a generous giver, thankful for her redemption, inspired by the Christ in Christmas.

We are wishing everyone a very very Merry Christmas.

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining. 
It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth. 
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! O hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Father's Day. What Do You Mean, It's Over...

My laptop charger bit the dust (more accurately, our dog bit it. It got caught up in one of Helo's chew toys and he happily chomped the cable right in half), which is why The Blogging halted to an abrupt stop at the beginning of June. This is Joshua's busiest time of the year at work, making his computer unavailable for the casual documentation of our domestic adventures (rude!), and I am pretty lazy when it comes to the ordering of the electronic things. Honestly, the lack of a computer at home was just giving us more time to devote to Words with Friends so we really didn't pull it together to order a new charger until this past week.

I didn't post on Father's Day, which wasn't meant as an affront to Joshua on his first Father's Day or to my dad on his 28th. I worked overnight Saturday, stayed up until late afternoon Sunday trying to make Father's Day great for Joshua, then turned into a weepy mess when the exhaustion caught up with me and my attitude started swinging from nearly hysterical to catatonic and back. Both Mother's and Father's Day were a little shaky for us this year - what can I say? Life was messy and tiring before we became a part of all the extra parental (long-anticipated, well-appreciated) holidays.

Even though I crashed and burned spectacularly on Father's Day, and couldn't pull it together to finish making dinner, let alone type this on my phone, I want everyone to know how proud I am of Joshua. And I also want to celebrate that I've been blessed with a dad who is strong, principled, and yet unafraid to show emotion and sentimentality. I was never spoiled and I am not a 'daddy's girl'. I was expected to face the consequences of my actions, and I certainly couldn't go running to my dad to get out of being disciplined. I wasn't punished mindlessly - I remember sitting on the kitchen counter, talking about what I'd done and why it was wrong and how my actions had disappointed my parents. Then my dad would make us all english muffins at midnight and tell me he loved me despite my bad attitude/lying/sneaking around/everything else I was doing and we'd all go off to bed only to repeat this delightful routine a few days later. I was always told I was loved. Always, even when I hurt my parents deeply, and there were a few years when that was what I did best.

No one parents perfectly, but I'm pretty sure books have been written to teach fathers how to raise their girls the way my dad intuitively parented me. So here's the best Father's Day gift ever - I'd like to say thank you to my dad for being strict. For having high expectations. For grounding me, both in the metaphorical sense and in the no phone privileges sense. Most of all, for just talking. Oh, so much talking - it made me crazy then and there's nothing I appreciate more now.

I hated the fact that my dad was less interested in being my friend during my horrid teenage years and more interested in keeping me on the straight and narrow path. But now my highest hope for Joshua is that Matilda can't stand him the second she hits middle school. Years later, when she can look back and see that his protective actions sprang out of a deep, intense love for her, I hope that she will also be able to say thank you. Thank you for ruining my hormone-addled little teenage life so I would grow up to have character and values.

(I think this is the parenting jackpot, right? Your kids actually telling you that you did it right. However, Dad, I will add that you went a little crazy with the TV censoring when I was little - I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have stunted my moral development to watch Full House.)

Joshua was terrified to have a daughter, but really he already shares the elusive combo of emotional vulnerability and embarrassing toughness as my dad. He made me start sobbing -unexpectedly, messily - when he started singing Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" to Matilda the night we came home from the hospital. It was the very first song she ever heard (that wasn't the sappy intentional decision it sounds like; we were just too busy making sure she was breathing to ever turn on the TV or radio before that), and now it's their song. Thankfully I didn't have to weep alone in my postpartum haze, Joshua even made himself cry with the sweetness of it all. And oh is Matilda lucky to have a dad that will cry over her, pray over her, and put in the hard work to develop her self worth and self respect.

I know, because I am that lucky myself.

So hopefully this post can partly make up for the fact that Father's Day ended with Joshua making us both dinner while I basically snoozed into a wine glass. And the fact that I only sent quick phone pictures of Matilda to my dad, and we were never able to actually talk on Sunday. I am blessed and my daughter is blessed because we have wonderful fathers.

Happy Father's Day, one week, one day, and one new laptop charger later. I love you guys.

On Memorial Day We Drink Sam Adams

I read a certain blog pretty regularly, written by a mama who is far more poetic and sentimental and glass-not-just-half-full-but-overflowing than I am. She's also a photographer with gorgeous kiddos and a beautiful home. Despite the fact that she is very honest about the (serious) challenges her family faces, sometimes when I read her blog her life looks and sounds so magical that I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow she posted a picture of a unicorn sleeping on her front lawn.

Every once in a while the sappy yet completely sincere tone of this particular blog irks me. That's really not a criticism (I absolutely love the writing and the photos - and actually I aspire to be more in love with the moment and welcoming of unicorns), it's just a personality difference. Idealistic and romantic are probably not words anyone would use to describe me.

Right?

But we just had one of those weekends that was so perfect and memorable I felt like I was living inside one of her 'life is beautiful' blog posts. It made me want to bust out all of my flowiest adjectives and capture every fleeting moment in both words and photos.



Grinning, glowy little baby...beaming mama.

Matilda is going to be four months tomorrow, and she is just exploding with smiles, babbles, silly expressions and noises. She grabs everything and tries to stuff it in her mouth, she rubs her eyes when she's tired and looks so much like a kid that it makes my heart stop, she adores anything brightly colored, she's intensely curious and most importantly every day she shows off more of her personality. Joshua and I were home together for the whole three day weekend and every day with her was just...glorious (whoop! nice adjective).

If you live in Chicago you know this has been the lamest, chilliest, rainiest spring of all time (I'm not sure that's actually a fact, but I think emotions are really what matter when it comes to weather anyways) and then this weekend torrential storms suddenly gave way to a scorching and sunny Memorial Day. We tucked Matilda deep beneath the sunshade of her stroller and roamed all over the neighborhood, sucking up iced coffee and accidentally burning our shoulders because inevitably every year we are so excited for the summer we forget how quickly pasty turns to lobster in the sun.



It's quick, my pale friends. Quick.

Matilda's pudgy toes and buttery thighs have been bare since summer arrived yesterday morning. I think she has worn at least six outfits in 48 hours, partly because she is a drooly mess these days, and partly because I've been impatiently waiting to put her in sundresses and rompers and then my mind sort of exploded from how cute they all are. She runs her hands over her skin constantly, like she is just as surprised as the rest of us by how soft babies are. I love being able to see her big belly and the wrinkly, stretchy skin on her back and her fluffy cloth diaper booty.



What did we do this weekend? Really nothing extraordinary. We saw friends and family, we got take-out, we drank Sam Adams because Joshua said that was the patriotic thing to do (um...ok),we took Helo to the parking lot a block away that has become our lazy day dog park, we went to church, we pushed Matilda in endless loops around the neighborhood, we made a last minute trip to Jewel for hot dogs last night because I said eating leftover Chinese food for Memorial Day wasn't patriotic (oh yes, two can play this game). We used the last of our baby giftcards to buy Matilda a tragically large, bright, jungle-themed activity seat/exersaucer/jumper thing and the absolute joy on her little face made me heavily regret my aversion to plastic baby crap. Guess who loves plastic baby crap? Oh that's right...babies.



Matilda hollers at that parrot lineup like they have gravely offended her, and it is hilarious. We laugh at her and she just yells louder and then pauses to smile at us, which makes us laugh more. It also makes me realize again what a privilege it is to be a parent. We make so many decisions about what our babies eat, or don't eat, their schedules, or lack thereof, what they wear and see and listen to and that is the raising part of having children. Then there is the pure wonder of just watching a baby grow up and change from a sleepy newborn to a babbly, opionated, parrot-taming little human. It is really no less surprising than if we walked out to the living room one day and a unicorn was standing there all like, hey can I sleep here tonight?

Ok, I've killed it. I've killed the unicorn thing.

This long weekend really was gorgeous. Stormy, sunny, sappy sweet..glass full to overflowing. However, all the idyllic moments in the world cannot spontaneously improve my self-portrait photography skills. Apparently urban parents struggle to quickly focus their hipstamatic camera when they should be paying more attention to their dog and baby blocking the sidewalk.



Oh yes. We are those people. Watch out, Chicago.

Easter

I've gotten behind on posting because I am actually tangled up in writing so much. I currently have dozens of unfinished paragraphs regarding cloth diapers, how bad I am at grocery shopping and meal planning, and my new role as a working mom. (Those are three separate posts, don't worry). I also have another draft that contemplates how Matilda will ever learn the benefits of sensible shoes when her mother is happier ripping her feet to shreds in order to Look Cute. That last one is turning out to be quite the metaphor for the future challenges of raising a girl in a sexualized and superficial world. So, it may not be done until she's twelve. Or ever. And then in the meantime Joshua wrote such a sweet post about showing Matilda the stars and now I have so much I'd like to say about what a great dad he is and also about how being in places where you can clearly see stars sort of terrifies my urban self.

But in the meantime, while I continue to slowly organize all these posts and random thoughts, such as the perils of using diaper rash cream on a cloth diapered baby (don't do it! It stains, and she didn't even have a rash in the first place. I am full of regret!) I also have Easter pictures of our little lady to share.



Here is she is after Easter dinner at Joshua's parents. We celebrated on the Saturday before so we could be at our own church on Sunday. This was also her only chance for an Easter basket, since we are cruel and realistic parents who did not go shopping for pastel-colored, developmentally appropriate gifts for a three month old with no concept of the holidays. That's what grandparents are for.



As you can see, she's so excited to head off to church and joyfully celebrate the Resurrection!



I think this picture is a perfect example of how Matilda comes by her nasty expressions honestly. I have no idea why I am making that terrible face. Matilda wasn't fussing and I'm not upset. Church was beautiful, she was smiling and flirting with everyone she could see, and when she started getting a little bored Joshua took her out so I could listen to the sermon. I even had enough coffee that morning. Basically, I have no excuses for why it looks like I am verbally accosting my child. Because I certainly am not.



We finally pulled it together for a family Easter picture,and yes, we did overdress the baby and then wear jeans ourselves. She is the main event anyways, right?

We went out to lunch with a group of friends after church, and Matilda spent the entire time sleeping happily in her carseat. She woke up all smiley when we got home, so we figured we would take a few more quick pictures of her first Easter (you know we weren't satisfied with those screaming carseat pics). But she had another idea, which was to vomit profusely all over her outfit and at that point we just gave up.

Despite the setback in overdocumenting our daughter's life, Easter was lovely. It's the vibrant celebration of our faith and of the promise that we have life after this life - something that I appreciate so much more now that Matilda is here. Easter is the perfect reminder that despite how easy it is to get caught up in what we have and want,we have already been given everything we need.



And this little girl...armwarmers, bunny hat, peep-toe socks, puke-covered Easter dress and all...well, she is far beyond what we need. She's like an entire Easter basket of Adorable.

Happy New Year!

We had a mildly traumatizing start to the New Year. We both woke up to the sound of Pam chomping on something plastic in our bathroom - which is in itself not that unusual. She has a total plastic fetish and will climb into our drawers, the recycling, the cabinets and my purse to get to anything she can crunch happily between her teeth. However, she took it to the next level this morning when she choked on her inedible 'treat'. Joshua made it out of bed and to her side much more quickly (not shocking, seeing as how I am essentially a beached whale in the mornings these days) and by the time I got into the bathroom, Pam was gasping for air and Joshua had most of his hand in her mouth trying to fish out her beloved plastic death trap.

The next 10 seconds is sort of a blur, probably because while I am 100% comfortable resuscitating a 9 pound choking and gasping infant, a 9 pound cat is a different story. I managed to (sort of) give her the kitty heimleich manuever, she let out a huge yak, and then somehow she must have gotten the piece of plastic back into her throat and promptly swallowed it instead of throwing it up. In the meantime, Joshua had gotten himself dressed, including gloves and a hat, and had gotten the cat carrier from the basement. Joshua tends to get ready at the pace of a second grader who hates school, so I think the sight of him standing in the kitchen ready to whisk Pam off to the emergency vet was almost as surprising as starting the New Year off by resuscitating a cat.

By this point Pam was in the cat carrier, breathing calmly with the tiniest bit of a wheeze, and looking at us like we were insane (she's never seen Joshua get ready so fast either). I was on the phone with the vet, who told us that if Pam was in no visible distress and was breathing easily, we could just keep a close eye on her and not worry about rushing her to the ER.

We let her out of the carrier and she promptly ran away from us, probably because she was worried we were going to start yelling and banging on her ribcage again. Of course, I burst into tears, because I love my little zoo so fiercely, and also because I burst into tears at anything these days (see above re: beached whale. And also, a serious lack of sleep).

So to sum up the first morning of 2011, we haven't made any New Years Resolutions yet. I haven't gotten out of my pajamas or left the house yet. I've been curled up on the couch with a sleepy Pam, trying to make sure she isn't developing aspiration pnuemonia. We were watching the Rose Bowl Parade, but when I fell asleep after one too many descriptions of floats covered in mums and oregano, Joshua took advantage of the situation to start watching back to back episodes of all the Discovery reality shows I cannot stand. The baby can't decide if she would like to stick her butt into the left or right side of my ribcage, so she's trying out both options every half an hour or so. I really dislike putting my feet up (both literally and figuratively) but I'm doing it anyways because the New Year has also brought me a wicked case of the cankles. I think because the huge anticipation of the baby is still looming over us, the New Year is almost anticlimatic. For me, the world starts shaking when the baby decides to make her appearance.

But I do have Pam to thank for getting my heart racing this morning. She's our first baby, the first pet we had together, and I love that silly little cat so much. Seeing her terrified expression when she couldn't breathe was incredibly scary, and of course my mind jumped to all the horrifying potential scenarios that come along with being responsible for a tiny human. I was so proud of Joshua for staying so calm and literally being ready to rush her to the ER in less than a minute. I don't know what 2011 really has in store for us, but if he can start off the year leaping from a dead sleep to save the day like that, I think things are going to be just fine.

tis the season...

...for lots of photos...

Our halls are decked, our stockings are hung, our tree is trimmed, and our home is overflowing with both holiday decor and Christmas spirit.

As I may have exclaimed the other day, our new camera takes pictures that can seem more beautiful than real life.

Yes, that's Pam in a bedazzled sombrero. That tiny hat came from a box that was left in the basement of our friends' apartment and was filled to the brim with decorations for a fiesta-themed Christmas party. The box also included a full Santa suit, a Ken doll in a tux who has now traveled the world with us and our friends and so many other random treasures. I think Pam looks particularly smashing, and also rather devious.

Helo also had a chance to try on the sombrero, and he wasn't so much of a fan. He prefers to watch holiday decorating from the relative safety of his blurry corner of the couch.

He is, however, very intrigued by the new camera and the satisfying click each time we take a picture. Luckily, since he now spends a lot of time trying to rub his nose on the lens, he's also incredibly photogenic.

And just in case you were wondering what the holidays look like from my point of view...here's our baby girl at 32 weeks saying Merry Christmas!

Holiday Spirit

I absolutely love making our house look beautiful for the holidays. Some of my favorite memories from being a kid are the nights we spent decking the halls, the walls, the tree, and everything else possible for Christmas. My dad would haul our well-worn cardboard boxes full of ornaments, lights, and garlands out of the basement, and every year I felt the same thrill of rediscovering my 'favorite' Christmas decorations.

Joshua and I have amassed our own cardboard boxes and plastic tubs full of holiday decor, and it's all I can do to wait until after Thanksgiving to start stringing up lights and hanging up stockings. I've cheated once or twice when we were going out of town for Thanksgiving - just for the joy of coming back to a Christmasy home.

But my mom is coming into town this weekend, and we have never decorated for Christmas together here in Chicago. So we are waiting (patience isn't my thing, exactly) until Friday night to transform the condo into a winter wonderland.

It's making me crazy. Today I went downstairs into the storage room to just stare at "Christmas Corner", as Joshua calls our ever-growing collection. I tried to decide if I could just put out one snowman, or find one pine candle to light. At one point the holiday welcome mat I threw in the cart during our recent trip to Home Depot (again!) was actually in my hands.

I didn't do it. I'm more excited about having my mom here for all of it. And Joshua, of course. And Cari. And the zoo - the cats are relatively indifferent to the sudden glitzy changes in their world, but I think Helo is really going to be crazy over the tree and the lights and the ornaments. It's sweet and terrifying all at the same time.

Another terrifying - but really thrilling - twist to this years' holiday decorating is that our new camera should be delivered on Friday afternoon, just in time to document exactly what happens when a dog is confronted with a live tree in the comfort of his own living room. I'm taking bets on how quickly he pees on it.

Joshua and I took advantage of the Black Friday sales (from the comfort of our couch; I'm not much of a 4am crowd trampler) to find a great deal on a Canon Rebel T2i. I have less than no idea what I'll be doing with such a sophisticated camera, but I can't wait to start taking lovely, dreamy SLR photos. Even if it does takes me a month to learn anything other than the automatic settings, I'm just thrilled about how rarely I'm going to have to use the flash now!

Lately I've been feeling a little sore and a lot sluggish so the excitement of the holidays has been a wonderful distraction from that. As soon as this house is fully bedecked and bedazzled, I'm sure I will feel even better. It may be taking all the willpower I have not to start looping garlands down the stairwell right this minute, but I know I will appreciate the experience of getting ready for the holidays so much more with the people I love.

Pictures...shiny, beautiful PICTURES...to come!

Grateful

Thanksgiving has passed but before it's too far behind us I really wanted to take some time to mention what Joshua and I are so thankful for this year...

- The gift of each other. We are so blessed to have celebrated FIVE years of marriage this past May. I'm thankful every day that we met when we were so young and that we've been able to grow up together without growing apart. At our (granola crunch style) childbirth classes this past weekend, we were asked to share the story of how we met and fell in love. This was an unexpected detour in between graphic homebirth videos, and we were surprised by how much fun it was to talk about our wild little teenage romance. We've come so far from those first crazy months of long-distance phone calls, cross country plane trips, 2000 mile roadtrips and lugging our physical and emotional baggage all across America. Our life now might not seem as spontaneous and passionate as it did when we were 19 and 20 and writing (bad) poetry and running off to Chicago together, but it is so much richer and deeper and more fulfilling than I could have ever expected back then. Every day that we have together is a gift and I never want to lose sight of that!

-The gift of our baby. Joshua and I weren't one of those couples who have a few extra drinks, tumble home and fastforward a few weeks to a totally shocking positive pregnancy test. A baby was prayed for and planned for (and cried over, let's be serious) before this baby became a reality. It's hard to put into words how grateful we are that after that struggle, I've had an incredibly uneventful and healthy pregnancy and we are only 9 weeks away from welcoming our daughter into the world. I wake up every day thankful for her jabs and rolls and karate kicks, all of which take my breath away. Sometimes because a swift punch to the ribs hurts like hell, but always because it means she is real, and we are incredibly grateful for the intense experience and privilege of becoming parents.

-The gift of our jobs. We both love what we do. Not every day is a great day at the office or the hospital, and sometimes when things at work are stressful we forget to be thankful for our careers. (Last night when my patient's ostomy bag came off twice and she was screaming bloody murder, and my other patient decided to start hollering at that moment for a bottle, I would not say that I was particularly happy about my choice of poop-covered workplace). But when we step back and look at the people we work with, the experiences we get to have, and the fact that we do totally different things that are perfectly fitted to our personalities, we know we are blessed. We have job security, we have benefits, we have so many opportunities to be challenged by our work and make a difference in the lives of people around us.

-The gift of our families. We both have intact, supportive, loving and slightly crazy families who have been there for us every step of our lives. We're thankful for that every day, and especially at the holidays. This fall my cousin Cari moved from Massachusetts to live with us in Chicago (she sweetly shares her room here with our emotionally disturbed cat Hala, who would like to say that for Thanksgiving she is grateful we got her an extra human). Cari is hilarious and incredibly thoughtful and helpful and even sobbed at my last midwife's appointment when she heard the baby's heartbeat. Which of course made me cry because I can't overexaggerate how happy I am to have someone from my side of the family here after the six years I've spent 1000 miles away from everyone I grew up with. It's been one of the best seasons of my life so far.

The gift of our friends. We have great friendships that we've built over our almost six years in Chicago. Some of our friends here are actually my elementary school friends from Massachusetts that have migrated here over the years (yes I take lots of credit for this). Some of our friends are Joshua's college friends from the year when he lived in Colorado. Some of our friends are our college friends from here in the city. Some are our work friends, some have slipped in through roommates and friends and family of other friends, and all I can say is that they are all wonderful and our lives are so much better for knowing them. Joshua looked around the room at our baby shower last weekend and said to me, "I really really love everyone here." And we do.

-The gift of our home. We can say for certain that after almost a month of living in our condo (pictures are COMING SOON, I promise!) that this is exactly where we are supposed to be. It's both cozy and spacious, easy to keep clean, perfect for us and our animals and getting closer to being ready for baby girl. We have already made lots of wonderful memories here and I know there will be so many many more.

There are a hundred more things I could say (I'm thankful for my zoo! Joshua made me dinner tonight and just did the dishes! My fancy dream stroller is being delivered this week! I don't have any stretch marks yet! My mom is coming into town this weekend and I'm finally going to decorate for Christmas!) but I think the most important thing is to continue living our everyday lives thankful for all that we have been given. I know there will be years where things are much more difficult and don't fall into place as beautifully as they have in 2010. There will be times when we struggle in our marriage and struggle as parents and and as friends and just in general don't wake up as excited about life as we do these days.

So that's what this list is for - to look at on the crappy days when the baby is screaming and the cat throws up on the rug and the dog is chewing happily away on Joshua's favorite hat and the fridge is empty and I have the flu. We have been blessed with so much, and we are so thankful for it.