Sick baby

Bailey came down with the flu recently. Not one to cry, she just sat still in her most pitiful pout that she could muster. She missed her entire first week at her new school as her temperature reached as high as 103.7 at one point.

Poor baby!

Changing Times

We recently made a decision to change schools with the girls. We've loved where they have been but we haven't loved the hefty monthly bill and the long commute. So the girls have started at a new school that is just minutes from the house. So far, they are quite happy and that makes us happy.

Reagan's favorite part about her new school? She doesn't have to wear uniforms anymore. She's been picking out her clothes every morning and loves the opportunity to do so.

Here are the girls in their last day of uniforms. Here's to new schools, new friends, and new memories.

It All Started With Two Pink Lines and a Computer

Four years ago, I found out I was pregnant with Reagan. Daunted at the news and some ensuing complications, I did what many modern women do-- I took to the internet. I thought I was just looking for the answers to "morning sickness cures." While I never did find the answers to curing morning sickness, I found something much greater--friends.

It started when I stumbled across a "mommy board" where all of the women were expecting babies at the same time as me. Many were experiencing the same problems as me. Many had the same questions as me. I can't pinpoint the moment where this mommy board turned. Turned from being a resource of anonymous women providing answers, to being a conglomeration of wonderful friends providing support and comfort. But it did happen. And over the course of four years the desire to go from being friends through a network of fibre cables to being friends in the flesh became quite great. So much so, that some of us finally decided to meet.

Over the weekend, six of us from across the country converged in New York City to meet in person for the first time. I wasn't the least bit nervous. Through the boards and then through blogs, I felt as though I had gotten to know these women quite well. They were at a distinct disadvantage with me, however. I hadn't blogged all year so they didn't really know what had been going on with me and over time I'm sure the memory of me had faded a bit. After all, I was still only pixels and memories to them at this point. Nonetheless, they still wanted to meet me and I them.

In short, it was a fabulous weekend. The trip was everything I had hoped it would be and more. The women were everything I had come to know them to be and more.

I don't want to take away from the great posts that my new "real life" friends have already written, so let me point you their way so you can check out their take on the trips in first person view. It's interesting to me that all of them wrote very different posts about the same weekend. They all wrote their posts with focuses from their own strengths and their personality. Had I not have met them in person and been part of the weekend, why they each wrote with a different slant would have been totally lost on me. I love that I've now been able to delve into that aspect of them and see even more into their posts.

• Joanna wrote a fabulous post about the trip and the good, human side of the internet and summed it up beautifully as "Jelly Bellies for the soul." It was a fitting post coming from a woman who is even smarter and wittier than her posts allow her to be, and that is saying much.
• Lindsay wrote a great post about where we went, what we did, and how we ate, shopped, and twittered ourselves across the city. Lindsay is a planner and an organizer. She sent out spreadsheets and Word documents about our trip plans and emergency contacts. Can I just say just how much I love that?
  
• Laura is the photographer I hope to be one day. She took some great pictures and applied some skillful editing to make us all look good. Her post is loaded with some of those great photos.
• London wrote of our "shenanigans" and conversations. London has a flair for writing and words and it was only fitting that she would focus on that aspect.
  
• Rita wrote--well I'm sure Rita has written her post in her head a dozen times (As she says she often does, and I admit to doing too. I intend to rectify this I swear!). Since Rita hasn't published her post, I'll speculate on what Rita has swimming in her head. I'm guessing Rita would write a post focusing more on people's character and personality. Rita herself is a person booming with character and personality, as are the other women. But in Rita's case, it seems to come easiest for her to know exactly who she is and to be precisely that.
  

I think the descriptions of each person in the above posts were quite accurate so I won't repeat those. Allow me to sum up how I feel about all of these women by saying that although we have different political, ideological, and whatever views, we still have much in common. They are all women I greatly respect and admire. They are all smart, friendly, compassionate, funny women. I laughed this weekend and let go like I hadn't in ages. It was like meeting old friends from school and just picking up where we left off years ago. They are all women I would choose to have in my circle of friends if they lived close to me. But since they don't, I'll have to continue to know them through Facebook, Twitter, and their blogs. Then, when we meet again next year, we'll just once again pick up where we left off.

It was such a wonderful experience that I hope to meet more of my online friends in the future. It's truly amazing to me that this whole weekend started its making four years ago as nothing more than a search for answers after seeing two little pink lines on a pregnancy test. And know I have the pleasure of calling five amazing women...friends.

My 9/11 Story

I appreciate the many emails, comments, and concerns I've received over the last several months regarding my absence here. Please know that I appreciated every one of them. You all made me feel loved. I will be back to posting VERY, VERY soon, I promise. But first, let me retell my story I published last year of my 9/11 experience.

May we always remember.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was September 10, 2001. As the plane made its approach into the Newark airport, I did my usual routine. Looking out the window, I looked for the Twin towers of the World Trade Center. They were always so easy to spot on the edge of the skyline. From there, it was a straight shot down to find the little green spot that was the Statue of Liberty. I never got used to how tiny Lady Liberty was against the massive skyscrapers. The pictures and stories of her always seemed to make her seem much bigger in proportion than she really is.

I found my Twin Towers, found the Statue of Liberty. Check, and check, my ritual was done and I could go back to my latest James Patterson book. It was never really worth the time, but it was the only thing left in the newsstand selection of 20 books I hadn't read.

I picked up my rental car, drove to my hotel and checked in. I considered going into the city for dinner. I was just across the river from Manhattan and had nothing to do until I started teaching my class the following morning. But I decided I was tired of the city and same old same old and ordered room service and worked on reading my book.

Morning came and my day started just like the other 600 classes I had started before. I greeted students, made sure the computers were setup properly, familiarized myself with the facility, and made sure I knew who my contact was if an issue arose. At 8:30 the class promptly began and I started my introduction that at this point was a memorized speech.

Around 8:45, a student's phone rang. I made a mental note to make sure I moved up my "please silence your phones, put pagers on stun, etc." speech and glared at the student as she took the call in the middle of the class. I was hoping she saw my evil eye. Only as I was giving her the evil eye, I was noticing something in her eye--tears and panic. I was caught off guard and paused to look at this student and tried to imagine what sort of family emergency has just happened. She put down her phone and with a trembling voice and trying to hold back her tears said, "Something has happened. There was an explosion or something at the World Trade Center."

With the vast numbers of people that work at the WTC and being just across the river, I don't believe there was a single student that didn't also panic. No one in that classroom was without a loved one, a neighbor, or a friend that didn't work there and was immediately concerned for their safety. We stopped class while everyone started making phone calls, getting on the internet, going outside to see if we could see anything. Details were sketchy but it was clear that something big had happened. Then we find out it was a plane that crashed through. What a terrible accident, how could that have happened? Wait! There's a second plane! It just crashed into the other tower! This wasn't an accident! Our nation is being attacked and I'm sitting 10 miles from the epicenter.

We dismiss class and tell people to go home and try to find out what has happened to all of their loved ones. The phones were completely overloaded and everyone was having trouble getting through. My sister, Tara, was the first to get a message to me. Her message was, "Hey! I was just checking to make sure you are ok. I don't know where in the world your are today, but given your history of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I'm guessing you are in NY. Call us and let us know." I was finally able to get through to her and to Mom to say yes, I was in NY, but I was fine. That didn't stop my Mom from being near hysterical but I assured her I was ok and not in danger. Was I in danger? I didn't really know. I still didn't know entirely what was going on. My statement meant I was alive and ok at the moment but I wasn't going to tell her that distinction.

In my stupor I go back to my hotel to watch the news and surf the net to figure out what is going on. On the way I could see the smoke pouring from the towers. I wasn't close enough to see the towers. I couldn't handle looking at them yet anyway. I learn the Pentagon was also attacked and there's word of potentially some heroes that ensured a fourth plane wouldn't take another target. Then, right there on my TV, it happened. I watched the first building buckle like a house of cards. I began sobbing thinking of all of my students and their loved ones. There were husbands, wives, sisters, even children in the daycare. How many were lost? Shortly after I see the second building collapse and I can no longer sit in my room.

I got into my car. I drove down towards the towers. When they were in clear view of the massive black pouring of smoke, I pulled over. Right there on the interstate I pulled over to the emergency lane and with everyone else and got out of my car and stood along the wall. There were no more towers to see, only smoke. I wish I had paid more attention to them yesterday. I wish I had known that would be the last time I would set site to the grand buildings. I would have looked longer, I would have gone into the city and taken another tour of them, I would have done a lot of things different.

I don't know how long I stood there crying just watching, sobbing, being numb. Emergency vehicles were constantly roaring down the interstate behind me, heading for the scene. Every time I heard their siren it jolted me out of my trance for just a second. Finally I put my thoughts together and decided I would do the only thing I could do, I would go donate blood. Surely there were many injured survivors that would need blood. I could do that. I found out a location of a Red Cross. Apparently half the city had the same idea. I was turned away as they couldn't handle any more donations. Defeated and unable to help in any way I could fathom, I went back to my hotel.

When I got to my hotel, the scene had changed. They were using the lobby as a makeshift treatment facility for emergency workers suffering from smoke inhalation and other minor injuries. Camera crews from neighboring cities had checked in and set up shop. I went to my room and cried again. I had never felt so alone. It was too far to drive home and the airports were shut down tight. I was stuck. I had no one I knew, no one who loved me to hug me and tell me everything would be ok. I cried myself to sleep.

A few hours later I woke with a start. Had I left the iron on this morning? What is that burning smell? I checked the iron. It was unplugged and put away thanks to the housekeeping service. Was it my curling iron? No, it was off too. I stepped out of my room and still smelled that wretched smell that burned my nose. My heart was heavy as I finally processed what that smell was. It wasn't the curling iron, or the iron, or the air system. It was the smell of the burning of two giant skyscrapers, two planes, and all of the people for whom it became a tomb. It was the smell of death. It is a smell that didn't escape me the rest of the time I was there and a smell that still plagues me to this day. This was the most vivid of my memories.

The next morning I showed up for class. I figured it had been canceled but no one was able to get through to tell me otherwise. I had nothing else to do anyway. To my surprise, six others showed up too. I learned that many in that class lost loved ones. It wasn't the news I wanted to hear. But there were six out of 24 that had shown up, that had all friends and family accounted for, and they wanted to learn. So I taught. I finally had a purpose in all this madness. I would teach my class and they would help me get through this.

Normally I teach a class by using humor. I skipped the jokes that week. I wasn't in a funny mood and it seemed inappropriate to laugh anyway. I bought them pizzas during lunch and held to every minute of class as precious time for me to have someone to talk to, people to listen to, people who would keep my mind off of what happened 10 miles away.

When the class ended that Friday, I was fortunate enough to be able to make the very first flight out of Newark when it reopened that day. It was times like these that I was glad I put in over 200,000 miles a year on Delta. They saw to it I was going home as soon as I could. My stepdad had been working in Princeton about 45 minutes away. My Mom begged and pleaded with me to drive home with him instead of getting on the plane. I calculated the amount of time I would have to spend with my stepdad in the car and decided I'd rather take my chances with the terrorists in the sky.

Although the airport was nearly empty, it took me four hours to get to my gate. They rifled through everything I owned while it was open on a table for any passerby to view my panties and my other contents. They took my tweezers, my favorite diamond chiseled tweezers that could search and pluck any stray eyebrow hair. They confiscated my water. They made me turn my computer off and on half a dozen times. But I wasn't complaining. I figured all of these precautions weren't going to stop another terrorist attack, but it still made me somehow feel safer nonetheless.

My plane left that Friday afternoon. Just four days after the world had changed. As the flight took off, it flew in the familiar pattern and over near the Twin Towers and Lady Liberty we go. Only this time there would be no towers to begin my ritual of finding The Statue. Instead, the smoke still billowed as black and strong as ever where the buildings once stood. No one spoke as the flight flew past. Tears glistened in everyone's eyes. I paid my respects, said a prayer, and wondered what life was going to be like after today.

Snow Day

Sunday we had snow. Ok, it was only about 1/2" and it never even stuck on the roads. But it was the first time either of the girls ever saw snow. Fortunately, they didn't seem to be too terribly anxious to go get out in it. They were content watching it fall from the warmth of inside the house.

Master of Manipulation

Reagan has long known how to work it to get out of trouble or to get what she wants. I have to admit to having been duped by a two year old many times. Here are some of her more recent attempts:

Last night in the car she got a package of fruit snacks. She was supposed to have shared with Bailey but scarfed them all down before she even handed the first one to her. When I heard Bailey mad, I told Reagan, "Reagan, give Bailey a fruit snack." Reagan said, "They are all gone." I shot her an evil eye. Then the dialog continues:

Reagan: I didn't give Bailey any fruit snack.
Me: I know
Reagan: Mom, I didn't give Bailey any fruit snack.
Me: Ok.
Reagan: Can you give me some fruit snack so I can give some to Bailey?
Me: Think I'm going to fall for that trick a fifth time?

Earlier in the week when Bill told Reagan to give Bailey a fruit snack, Reagan took the whole pack and shoved all of them in her mouth at once. She had fruit snacks falling out of her mouth while she said, "they are all gone" and holds up the empty package.

Then, this morning, Reagan acted out and I put her into timeout. She walked into the corner and stood there for about two seconds then turned around:

Reagan: I'm sorry momma (she starts to walk away to go play)
Me: Thank you for your apology, but you are still in timeout
Reagan: (fussing as she goes back into the corner, pause, pause, turns around)
Reagan: Momma, I need to come tell you something
Me: You can tell me when you are done with timeout. Turn around.
Reagan: Momma, may I come tell you something?
Me: What do you need to tell me?
Reagan: I need to tell you I'm sorry
Me: Ok, thank you
Reagan: May I go play now?
Me: No, you are still in timeout

I hope Bailey doesn't learn all of these tricks this early.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I got this meme from Facebook but wanted to include it here...

This is probably meant for children a little older, but I asked these questions of my daughter Reagan, who is 2. She gave some interesting responses...

1. What is something mom always says to you?
princess

2. What makes mom happy?
when i smile

3. What makes mom sad?
mommy is sick

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
funny

5. What was your mom like as a child?
mommy's not a baby! bailey is a baby and i'm a big girl!

6. How old is your mom?
ummmm....2. no. i'm 2 and you're 5 and bailey is 1. daddy is 10.

7. How tall is your mom?
6

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
mermaid! (yeah, I don't know what that is either)

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
bailey

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
huh?

11. What is your mom really good at?
i hear a birdie in a tree

12. What is your mom not very good at?
sick

13. What does your mom do for a job?
computer

14.What is your mom's favorite food?
celery (I hate celery, where did that come from?)

15.What makes you proud of your mom?
happy

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
tinkerbell

17. What do you and your mom do together?
happy yoga

18. How are you and your mom the same?
two eyes

19. How are you and your mom different?
ummmm.....

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
big hug and a little hug

21. What does your mom like most about your dad?
happy

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
ummm...in a castle. and target. can we go to the grocery store and get a cookie?

Confession

Saturday afternoon Bill came down with the chills and then went downhill from there. Sunday was his turn to sleep in, so about 12:30pm I went to check on him. He was laying in bed surfing on the laptop. He said he felt just terrible and just wanted to lay in bed all day. Instead of laying in bed I strongly coerced him into getting up and doing a couple of errands with me and the girls. This is despite him saying he thought he had the flu.

I should say, I didn't doubt that Bill was as sick as he said he was. But in all honesty, I thought he was being a a bit of a big baby. Despite being sick, I thought he should still be well enough to be able to go with me on a couple of really small trips. Suck it up buttercup! I go do things when I'm sick too!

Fast forward to Monday, and Karma comes back and hits me in the butt, HARD. Bill is not 100%, but feeling much, much better. After doing a great workout, jogging/walking 3 miles, I was feeling great. But then, just a few hours later and I got the chills. I finally jumped in the shower as an attempt to warm up.

I cannot tell you how quickly I went downhill from there. Yesterday, I was so sick that I needed to go to the doctor and had to have Bill drive me. Today, my bronchitis symptoms are much better but the flu is hitting me so hard I can hardly move.

And what have I learned from all of this?
1) Bill really is a tough guy. The next time he says he's sick, I'm just going to close off the door for quarantine purposes and let him emerge when he's well.

2) Payback is a beyatch. Not only am I sicker and for longer, I get to have the kids all by myself tonight as Bill needs to be gone.


Karma is laughing furiously at me right now. And somewhere under Bill's outward sympathy for me is the smuggest expression of "I told you so" one has ever sported.

Nightime Attire

This is what you get when you let a two year old pick out her own pajamas and dress herself for bed. The photo is missing the red, blue and green knee socks she paired with the ensemble but I think it captured the mittens and panties on the outside of the pj's nicely. I think she's just missing a cape to complete the look. What do you think?

Posing on International Day

This week has been International Week at school. They study different cultures, they get special snacks from countries all over the world, they do a potluck dinner of international foods, and on Friday, they have international dress day.

Reagan's classroom had Italy. That was a bit challenging to find something specific to Italy. But then I had an idea to dress her as a Gondolier. I think we got pretty close with what we could find to work with.

Bailey's Chinese dress is a special dress. I bought it in Hong Kong for my niece many years ago. She was just a year and a half old had been crowned Baby Miss Macon. I brought back that dress and she wore it in the Macon Cherry Blossom parade. That niece is now ten.

Bailey's shoes were a gift from my mom. When I was pregnant with Reagan, I was working in NYC. My little brother was singing right across the street from where I worked at none other than Carnegie Hall. So my mom and Bill joined me in NYC so that they could attend my brother's concert. My mom made a trip to Chinatown and came back with the shoes. I don't know that she remembered we still had the Chinese dress, but the shoes matched perfectly. Reagan wore that outfit at about a year and now Bailey gets to wear it too.

Reagan was pretty excited to wear her costume today. You'll see she was quite the poser. Especially when we got to the steps. She would lay on a step and say, "take a picture of me now" and then she'd hop up and say, "hmm, let me try this..." or "how about I go here" and try a totally different pose. She even intentionally winked in one pose. She'd always want to see what the picture looked like after I took it so she knew how to adjust the next pose.

Bailey proved to be difficult to photograph this time as she just discovered that she could see herself on the back of the camera too. So she just kept coming at me and wanting to see the pictures on the camera.

So here are the girls, striking a pose, working it for the camera.

Bailey getting mad because I wouldn't let her have the camera...

Bailey looking wide eyed and innocent after being busted for trying to strangle Reagan with her hat cord...

Reagan in her first of many poses...

Here's looking at you kid. Perfecting "the wink"...

Bailey's wondering what is with all the posing...

Reagan kept jumping in front of the camera when I tried to take a picture of just Bailey...

It was Roseola after all

Yep. Both girls had rashes today and no fevers. Reagan's was much milder. Of course she also had Roseola when she was nine months old so I was surprised she got it at all.

Fevers

Bailey came down with a fever on Saturday of 103.5. It wouldn't be the first time she's had a fever that high, but it's the first time she didn't want to play and cried even when held. She was absolutely miserable.

Bill took her to the Urgent Care (because I'm too much of a wimp). They checked her ears, they listed to her chest, everything was fine. They swabbed her nose for flu, negative. Drew blood for tests, negative. Drew a catatheter for tests, negative. The prognosis: a virus.

So we had one sick miserable little baby and then Reagan came down with a high fever too. We were giving them both Tylenol and Ibuprofen around the clock. I had to write it all down to remember who took what and when.

Reagan seemed to recover pretty quickly. She was a little grumpy, but otherwise fine. Bailey took a lot longer. We sent them both to school today since Reagan's was gone and Bailey's was under 100. They said Bailey was still a little clingy and fussy. I won't be half surprised if tomorrow her fever is gone and a rash is there instead. The classic Roseola case. We'll see though.

I had today off for President's Day and so Bill took it off too. Since we were able to send both the girls to school, we got a great day of doing some shopping, going out to eat, seeing a movie. It felt like one of those weekends before we had kids. I wish we had family around so we could get a few more days like that once in a while. It was quite fun and relaxing.

Miss Bailey

Let me update you on Miss Bailey. She quietly turned one on Christmas Eve. There wasn't the pomp and circumstance or the party of 50 people like we had at Reagan's first birthday. We unceremoniously drove most of the day to Florida for Christmas. She never even got a first birthday cake. I feel a bit guilty about that and vow to make sure she always gets a proper birthday every other year.

When Bailey turned one, it seems like overnight the lights went on in her head. She took her first steps Christmas Day and immediately started babbling more, imitating more, and just wanting to be more involved in what we are doing.

Bailey's walking started out like a crab walk. She'd only walk sideways. After a week or so of that, she changed to the zombie walk. She'd slowly totter down the trek with her hands straight out. If she wasn't always giggling her butt off, I'd imagine her walking thinking, "brains, I want brains" in true zombie fashion.

Six weeks later, and Bailey is completely changed. She still has a bit of the zombie walk, but now she attempts to run, especially after successfully snatching a toy or food from Reagan or some poor unsuspecting baby at daycare. You'd never know Reagan has 1.5 years on her. Bailey doesn't let it deter her in the least. The other day she snatched Reagan's burrito right off her plate and was scarfing it down (with her only two teeth) as quickly as she could while trying to make a clean getaway. If Reagan is in "her" chair, Bailey pushes her right out of it. She has every bit of fiestiness as Reagan and has become quite ornery. She has discovered the classic games such as "let-me-climb-up-the-stairs-as-fast-as-I-can-and-see-how-far-I-make-it-before-Mom-catches-me" or "look!-I-can-stand-on-a-table!"

No matter what she gets into or cooks up, she continues to do it with a smile on her face and a laugh in her heart. She truly brings us great joy. Reagan truly loves her and gets just as excited as we do when Bailey does something new. Reagan has actually done a better job than us at trying to teach Bailey sign language. By one year, Reagan knew over 100 signs. By 14 months she was combining them to form "sentences." Reagan has retained most of that knowledge and it's really cool to see her "talking" to Bailey with sign language. Bailey only does a few signs, but we see her trying more and more every day. She understands a lot more than she communicates as she has become quite vigorous in her head shaking "yes" or "no" to respond to our questions.

Both girls are just amazing to us. They are so very different from each other yet we love them both with all our heart. I look back and can't believe I cried tears of sorrow and frustration when I found out I was pregnant with Bailey. She was truly meant to be in our lives when she was and I can't imagine our lives without her.

Out of the baby years...now on to more toddler years!

(I have a bunch of pictures to add to this post but I'm not on the right computer. Rather than wait, I'm posting now and will add the pictures later. Don't forget to come back and check them out. As many have pointed out, she's grown to be quite the big girl practically overnight. I have some cute pics to share.)

We Bought What?

Let me share with you what can happen when you let a two-year old walk with you in a Target instead of putting her in the buggy. Here is a picture of some of the things we purchased earlier this week.

The punchline is neither Bill nor I actually knowingly bought any of these products. Bill usually handles the credit card transaction while I unload the buggy. This time it was the other way around. Bill tossed everything in the cart up on the belt, assuming I had a perfectly good reason why I wanted two types of acne medicine (neither of us have acne), a black eyeliner (I use brown), and my favorite--makeup for women of color. Let's face it, even on my tannest day, I can't use makeup intended for black women.

I caught Reagan putting in one of the Noxemas at one point and pulled it back out of the cart. She protested and said, "but Mom, you NEED it." Gee thanks for that. I pulled it back out, but the sneaky little bugger put it back in again when neither of us was looking.

Unfortunately, the receipt is tossed and since Target's return policy sucks, we now have a few items we can donate to the local women's shelter.

Oh, and this is also exactly how I ended up with six boxes of Weight Watchers Calzones on Saturday.


Some recent random pics, just because...

New Blog: Walk Away From the Twinkie

Because I don't have enough trouble keeping this blog up (sarcasm on), I've decided to start yet another blog. Rather than turning this blog into my escapades on trying to lose a gazillion pounds and run a marathon like tomorrow, I've decided to keep that separate.

I figure it will be a good to keep a journal of my journey, and I'm inviting you to come along...

Walk Away From the Twinkie

My goal is to update both this blog and the other blog daily. I think now that I've finally finished my "second job" role, it will be much more realistic for me to find time. For the most part, I think I'm going to be working a normal 40-50 hour work week now. I'm pretty excited about that! That is also what led to me finally being able to take on the weight challenge as well. It's really nice when things finally come together.

I have a new cousin!

My Aunt Kelly is a year younger than me (I'll pause for a moment while you wrap your noodle around that concept). After a difficult delivery, Kelly had her first baby. I now have a new first cousin!

Kelly lives in Seattle so we don't get a chance to see each other very often, but through the magic of Facebook and email I look forward to watching her little baby boy grow up.

Congratulations Kelly! We are so happy for you!

Brady Joseph Lynch

January 17, 9:35am

7lbs 3oz, 19 inches

Here's a picture of Kelly and Brady. How adorable is he?

Here's the proud dad, Tim, with little Brady. That's right, sleep while you can!

The Loftiest of Goals

So what do you do when you find yourself 100 lbs overweight and you can't run to your mailbox? a) Get a rascal scooter
b) Diet and exercise sensibly to loose weight and get in shape
c) Bury your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby
d) sign up for a marathon

Ok, I realize most of you probably would have picked B (although C does sound like a tempting winner). Alas, if you haven't found out by now, I'm not like most people. I picked D. That's right, I signed up to run in a marathon.

I realize how crazy it all seems well, because it is. But I am very goal driven and up until now, I haven't had a strong enough goal and motivation to push me to my end result. So as I was perusing the company intranet yesterday I saw a notification for early sign ups for the Chicago Marathon on October 11. I started to think about it and thought this could be just the piece of motivation I'm looking for.

I did some research. A lot of people suggest you run regularly for about a year before you try to train for a marathon. There was a lot of good and of course, conflicting advice. In the end, I ignored a lot of the advice (not that I am recommending you do the same), and decided to go for it.

I'm not looking to beat a certain time or even enjoy the run. My goals are to simply survive it and finish it in 6hrs and 30mins before they take down the water and first aid stations. I may not get anywhere close to that goal, but I'm going to do everything I can do try. Bill said he'd call it success and would be proud if I just finished 10K. That may be all I can do, but I'm still shooting for the entire 26.2 miles.

I've got eight months to loose weight, get in shape, and prepare for the race. I'm starting with the "couch to 5K" program where at the end of nine weeks I'll be able to run three miles without stopping. We'll see.

Everyone has to have a dream, right? Here's mine:

Chicago Marathon

October 11, 2009

Bridget finishes the race

Lured from the tent

I previously reported how Reagan would only sleep in her princess castle tent she got for Christmas. I am happy to report that a solid month later, she has finally been lured from her tent into a real bed.

Prior to her taking up residence in her tent, she was sleeping in her little toddler bed. But she's always had a twin bed in her room that has gone unused. The twin bed is a canopy bed that looks like Cinderella's carriage. She's shown great interest in it over the years-- for climbing, for jumping, for doing dive rolls off of it. For sleeping-- no interest whatsoever.

But about a week ago, I put in the Cinderella movie for the first time. She watched it with great interest, becoming very upset with the ugly stepsisters destroyed Cinderella's dress for the ball. Then, when she saw Cinderella's carriage, she immediately identified it as looking like her bed.

When the movie ended she asked to watch it again. She's now watched it about a dozen times. And she now wants to be "Cinderella Princess." The bed that was only good for jumping from has now become her bed of choice for slumber, over her toddler bed, over her tent. She looks so adorable being so tiny and sleeping in such a big bed.

I wish I had thought of putting on that movie a long time ago.

What's for Dinner, Super Bowl Corn Dip

With the Super Bowl coming up, I've started thinking about what I'm going to take to our friends' Super Bowl party. Here's one super easy crowd pleaser for your consideration:

Corn Dip

Prep time: 5 minutes
Cook time: 30 minutes

Ingredients
2 cups mayo
2 cans Fiesta/Mexican corn- drained
2 cups grated Monterrey jack/Colby mix
2 cups grated Parmesan (or Parmesan Romano mix)
Add some cumin, jalapenos, diced chilies, or red cayenne pepper if you want (it's perfectly yummy without them)

Directions
Add all the ingredients and mix together
Cook in 350 oven for 30 minutes

Notes
Scoops Tortilla chips are awesome with this
I think next time I may try this same recipe but adding crab. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Ballet Dreams Dashed

Reagan has a couple of things she takes at school in addition to her regular curriculum. One is tumbling, we are just now adding yoga, and her favorite: ballet.

Every Thursday Reagan has a ballet class that she SO looks forward to. Just the act of getting dressed up in her leotard, skirt, and ballet shoes makes it all worthwhile to her.

So today of all days, the girls sleep in a little. Bailey didn't wake up until 7:45. We haven't used a real alarm clock in 2.5 years because the girls take care of that for us. Not today. Ballet is at 9 and school is 30 minutes away. We had to hurry, hurry, hurry!

In our rush, I went ahead and put on Reagan's ballet clothes. The ballet instructor always begs us to do that anyway because it saves her tons of time on getting eight two-year olds out of uniforms and into leotards. But not once have I actually done it. I always send Reagan in her uniform and let them change her. Since I did go ahead and Reagan in her clothes, she was especially looking forward to ballet today. Every step had a little hop or twirl with it and she wore her tierra and waved her wand proclaiming she was a ballerina princess.

At 8:30 Bill scrambled out the door and took the girls to school. Shortly before 9 I started checking email. As I scanned the new mail, one subject in particular stood out: PLEASE READ NOW. NO BALLET TODAY.

Ugh, too little too late. I already had a two year old dressed and ready for ballet and walking through the doors of her classroom as I read. Apparently the teacher had a fever so she decided to stay home (good call). But I had Reagan already dreaming of prancing and twirling in ballet. While Reagan was in her uniform when Bill picked her up today, that didn't happen without a struggle. That was one disappointed little ballerina.

Of course she still thinks Santa Claus is going to come every morning and bring her more presents, so she's getting used to the concept of disappointment. And tomorrow is yoga, so life will be good again.

Here's Reagan at school during one of her ballet lessons: