Of Baby Mamas and Just Plain Babies

My Sister the Goddess, otherwise known as Candice, turned 23 yesterday. (Perhaps a little known fact, but she and Joey were also celebrating their 2nd anniversary, as they were married on Candice's birthday. Poor man.) Here's my parents' clever attempt to hide the fact that they didn't actually have a number "3" for the cake:

See the extra candle at the end? Get it?

While we were all partying hard, my mom asked if I would get some shots of Candice's ever-burgeoning belly. My Grammy and Aunt Connie, who also happen to be Candice's Grammy and Aunt Connie, have been hounding (or politely asking, whatever) her for pictures of The Tum, and Mom figured the blog would be an appropriate venue for sharing such photos. I was happy to oblige.

Candice is, according to her husband, who just came over a few minutes ago, at about 25 weeks.

She is just so gorgeous. I love her in purple.

Heck, I love her in a burlap sack!

And that baby? Oh, that baby. That baby, even in utero, makes my heart melt and my knees wobble. I am quite possibly the most excited person on this planet for this baby's arrival, with the noted exception of her own parents. I know I've revealed the baby's gender (it's a girl, in case you didn't catch it the first time), but I don't think I've shared sweet baby girl's name. Ready for this? It's so lovely, I swear.

Cecilia. Cecilia Danae.

Oh, my, it makes my breath catch in my throat just to utter her precious name.

"Cecilia" has been chosen simply because Joey and Candice love it and its ole-timesy charm. (Note: They have been throwing this name around for months and months, well before ever getting pregnant, and I instantly loved it the moment I heard it. I have been calling Cecilia by her chosen name since she was conceived, and I fought tooth and nail for that name when they were briefly distracted by the offerings of "Olivia." I am so glad reason won out.) "Danae," while a lovely name in and of itself, holds some super special meaning for me especially: it's my middle name. Can you believe it?! I am so honored.

That baby is fixin' to be the spoildest baby in this hemisphere, y'all. I promise. You should see the Baby Cecilia gifts Candice got for "her" 23rd birthday. I think I completely failed to recognize that perhaps Candice would like a gift for herself.

And in case you were wondering, Candice has been back at work and off of bed rest for a few weeks now. The physical problems that had her and her doctors concerned have completely cleared up (Praise the Lord!) and a super amazing, super advanced sonogram up in Chicago revealed a healing of the problem area. Now with that good news and a few weeks back at work under her belt, Candice has 2 weeks for Christmas break to rest and grow that baby.

ICANNOTWAITFORTHISBABY.

So. Anyway. I hope I've appeased the grandmother and the aunt.

Grammy also sent a lovely card in the mail the other day commenting on some things from the blog (she approves of the table! Hurrah!) and asking some good questions. I realize I haven't been the greatest about kid updates here, and so I think I'll make this blog post a requests post, as you have all been so good this year and certainly deserve such a gift.

You are most definitely welcome.

First off, a few pictures of the kids.

Here's B, serious and determined as ever:

He is, as I said, typically the most serious child of our brood, although he, like any kid, loves to laugh, run, play, and shriek. He is very deliberate in his play: blocks are stacked in intricate patterns, play food is cooked into elaborate dishes, and Lord help the sibling that attempts to interrupt his creations. We are working with patience and sharing with B, as he gets so caught up in his games that sometimes he loses sight of the joy of playing with others. He has definitely mastered potty training, and he loves to learn all about planets, numbers, letters, and all things dinosaurs. He also loves Christmas music and just yesterday declared his undying love for Bing Crosby. He is a joy.

J, his older-than-about-twenty-seconds brother, is similar in many ways, which I suppose is bound to happen with twin brothers. A notable difference is J's very laid-back, roll-with-the-punches personality. While his brother will have a very hard time with interruptions to his routine or play, J sits back and rarely lets things get to him. He is extraordinarily good at sharing, and he's always watching out for his brother and sister, quick to make sure that they have equal amounts of toys, snacks, and drinks. J is working at learning how to ask nicely for things instead of simply demanding them. He shares an affinity for planets, numbers, letters, and animals with his brother, and he is working his hardest at learning the sounds of each letter of the alphabet. He is a gem.

(As I type this, the boys are standing next to each other at the couch, looking at an astronomy book their father brought home from work, saying things like, "No, it's Uranus" and "No, it's Neptune" and even naming all of the planets' moons that they know. Hyperion, Ganymede, Calisto, Io; you know, the usual.)

Baby C is 15 months old now (almost 16), and, as I shared recently, walks like a pro. She is at that baby-toddler stage where she is liable to throw a quick tantrum if she can't immediately get her desire or thought across to you. I think she wants more words, please. She loves, adores, reveres, and worships her brothers, and they do a great job at including her whenever possible. She loves to "cook" play food, name objects around the house, and plant herself in the nearest adult's lap to read for hours on end. She is a treasure.

Grammy also had some specific questions. Here, I'll answer them in the easiest way possible:

Q: Have you fixed the door in some way so that she [Baby C] can't lock it?

A: No, not yet. Our bathroom has consumed our lives, so a few minor projects, like this, have screeched to a halt. I've been very careful to never leave her downstairs without another adult in the house. I would never want to repeat that trauma again. And the key suggestion is good, but unfortunately, this is not a traditional lock-with-a-key handle. Whoever installed it was kind of dumb, I won't lie. (Par for the course for our house.)

Q: Are you ready for Christmas?

A: Yes and no? Presents are bought, but not all are wrapped. My house is a mess because of the cellulose insulation my dear, sweet, hard-working husband is trooping around, and I don't have the heart to vacuum it up, as he just troops through and deposits it all over again. (This very scenario happened about 3 times before I wised up and reluctantly put the vacuum away.) I'll probably end up doing a lot tomorrow (Christmas Eve) afternoon, before my family comes over for Christmas Eve frivolity.

Q: What do the kids think of the Christmas tree and presents?

A: They are all, naturally, enraptured. They are too young to really get all the hype--not having a television REALLY helps--nor do they really understand the countdown to Christmas Day and why we should be excited about it. Sure, they talk about Baby Jesus' birthday ("Cake! Presents! Balloons!"), but shoot, they're 2. To them, everything is just really pretty and special and fun. They all know to stay away from the presents under the tree, although I do catch B lovingly caressing some pretty packages from his Grammy-Great from time to time. But they are all good kids and haven't tried to open any. And the you-can-touch-with-one-finger rule I use in stores works wonders with the Christmas tree; I have yet to find any ornaments, even the low ones, off of the tree. They are really good kids, in so many ways.

Q: Do the boys sing "Away in a Manger"? That was the first Christmas song my little girls [my mother and her sister, my Aunt Connie] sang.

A: They aren't so thrilled with that one, although they love "Rudolph," and "I Saw Three Ships." Rudolph I understand; the other is a great song, but not one I naturally see kids gravitating toward. Despite that, they love it. Plus they lovelovelove the Peanuts Christmas album, and they daily request to watch "Charlie Brown Christmas." I have to limit this one, as B gets very caught up in the drama that is Charlie Brown vs. The World and I catch him nearly in tears at every viewing. Poor little sensitive soul!

Grammy and/or Aunt Connie or Grandma or Ta or other interested parties, leave a comment if you have any other questions. I hope I've sated your appetite for kid information for now.

Finally, I leave you with this touching photograph of Candice and her Joey:

I don't know how he does that with his stomach, but it truly rivals his wife's pregnant belly.

Merry Christmas?

Bathroom Remodel: Chapter 1a (The Newspaper from Under the Tub)

Last post I shared that my dad had found a 71-year old newspaper underneath our bathtub during his and my husband's bathroom demolition. At the time I was unable to show it to you, but, well, now I can.

Take a look at what a Chicago Tribune looked like on June 23, 1938.

It's still in pretty great shape, considering its age and the fact that it sat under our tub for 60 years. (Therein lies the mystery: Our house was built in 1948, 10 years after this newspaper was printed. So why is it under our tub at all? It wasn't like it was being used for insulation or anything; it looked deliberately planted. Was this date important to someone? I'm really curious about this, and I know I'll never find out the answer.) I know that this first page is hard to see because of the dirt, but rest assured, the headlines are priceless. There's one about Nazis rioting in Hungary and another about the Japanese beginning to bomb China. We found another article about Neville Chamberlain (the English Prime Minister before Churchill), and just generally many chilling details leading up to the outbreak of WWII. The articles are all pretty short, and the majority of the paper seems to be set aside for clothing ads.

The clothing is pretty cheap, too. Check out this ad for a suit for $21.95!

Here's an article on Roosevelt and a Kennedy (not JFK, obviously.)

I found another article about a socialite who married a wealthy guy in November of 1937 and separated from him the following June; the article was all about their divorce proceedings. So this isn't a recent phenomenon, you see.

Finally, a page that my friend Karla and I found particularly endearing. First, a package of Kotex feminine napkins runs for $.48. And the ad just underneath that is advertising some sort of underarm pads. For discerning women before deodorant was a widely accepted thing, I'm sure.

I can't even imagine trying to keep those suckers in my pits. I'm sure my attempts to disguise unfeminine sweat stains would be preempted by underarm pads wiggling out of my shirtsleeves. Or, better yet, popping out of my neckline.

So anyway. Underarm pads aside, this is a pretty awesome (okay, really truly and very awesome) find, and I'm sure I haven't begun to unlock all of this newspaper's amazing secrets, as every time I try to get it out to study it, my children want to climb all over it (it's brittle, folks!) and get a look. I promise that if I find anything else noteworthy, I'll share.

Oh, and The Professor has a great idea: on the day he and my dad finish the tile and prepare to seal up that opening next to the bathtub, they plan on buying an edition of the Trib and putting it, along with this 1938 edition, underneath the tub. Cool, eh? Before he does that, I want to cabbage on to a portion of the 1938 edition and frame it for a wall in the bathroom. I think that would be a nice homage to the history of our home.

Bathroom Remodel: Chapter 1

So two weeks ago I showed you my ugly bathroom, and revealed that we were going to tackle a full-on remodel over The Professor's generous Christmas break. Well, this past Thursday he started the demolition process, and we haven't looked back.

We are going to be doing our entire bathroom, but since we have house guests coming over New Year's, we're starting by completely concentrating on the shower so that we can have a working shower by the time four extra adults descend on our home. (I mean "descend" in the most positive sense; we are very excited for these guests.) If we simply demolished everything all at once, sure, we'd get the yucky work out of the way, but we couldn't be guaranteed a shower. So The Professor began bright and early Thursday morning, and by that afternoon he had ripped out all the old tile surrounding the tub, up to the ceiling of the shower stall, with some portions ripped to the studs.

We found rotted wood, yucky, scary-looking insulation, and mildewed plaster. Yuck. Our house stunk like mildew for a couple days. I won't pretend it was pleasant.

Over Friday and Saturday, he worked to rip off all the plaster down to the studs, as well as the ceiling of the soffit that is over the shower stall. We plan on tiling the ceiling, too, making this demolition necessary. He also tore off more tile on either side of the shower, including behind the toilet, meaning that the toilet is now downstairs. (More on that in a minute.) By the end of the day Saturday he had also pulled out all of the old insulation.

All of this demo means lots of dust. The Professor has done a great job of sealing off vents, drains, and cracks in the door to prevent dust from drifting everywhere in the house and through the pipes, but be assured, despite his valiant efforts, some has leaked through. The stuff is pretty nasty, and I'll be glad when he's able to finish demo-ing the rest of the bathroom tile and floor.

My dad worked with my husband all day Saturday, and he managed to find the prize: A Chicago Tribune from June 23, 1938, stuffed under our tub. I would post pictures of it, because it's truly a gem, but Blogger, as usual, is giving me problems for not having thought ahead and put in my pictures before my text. (Blogger, is anyone listening?) I'll share later--be assured, it's priceless, especially considering that our house wasn't built until 10 years after that paper was published. A mystery.

The other prize they found Saturday: A hole in our sub-floor. (Altogether now: Hurrah!) As I mentioned earlier, the toilet was moved so they could demo the walls behind it. Its absence revealed a hole in the flooring. A real, honest-to-goodness hole, like I can stand over it and see into the back portion of our basement. (Again: Hurrah!) This is not an unexpected treat, but it's still not a fun thing to consider.

And perhaps you've already noted this, but this does in fact mean that we are down to just one toilet, along with our 0 working showers. We are taking lots of sink baths and even driving a few minutes to my parents' house to take showers on occasion. Unfortunately, we don't plan on tackling the floor until after our New Year's house guests are gone, and we also do not want to put the toilet back down on a hole. So...we will eventually have six adults, three children, one working (downstairs) shower, and one working (upstairs) toilet.

Finally: Hurrah!

My dad and The Professor resumed their work Sunday afternoon. Their goal was to install the new window, the one we had ordered to replace the yucky, rotting one in the shower stall.

I'm sure my dad loves this shot.

And just so my husband doesn't go uncredited:

They worked extra-hard all day, my dad even working into the evening, to install this window, the first window-installing adventure for either of them. At one point I heard my dad say, "Okay. I think we need to pray, because I'm getting really frustrated." Evidently they did indeed stop to pray, and shortly thereafter, everything came together. They did a fantastic job.

The window is double-hung with obscured glass, so we should be able to shower without fear of anyone discerning our individual naked features. (Unlike before, when, if the mini-blinds were up, nothing was a secret.) I'm very anxious to try this one out. I don't know how, but I plan on conducting Nakedosity (a word, I promise) tests in the near future.

So that's basically where we are today, Monday, Dec. 21. This morning we went to Lowe's to purchase a ceiling (oops, I mean) exhaust fan for the shower. Shortly upon returning home, The Professor discovered that the lovely decorative fan I had picked out was too low and bulky for our shower, so he had to run back and exchange it for a sleeker, simpler version. His goal today and tomorrow is to install the fan and lay insulation, so that Wednesday afternoon, when my dad can once again join him, they can concentrate on laying cement board on top of the studs.

I keep walking into the bathroom and squinting really hard, trying to imagine what it will look like a few short weeks when all of this work is behind us. I know it will be beautiful.

Oh, great. A car seat recall.

Yup, folks, it's that time of year again. Time for the manufacturers of car seats to rain on your Christmas parade and announce that your infant seat, the one you trust to cradle your sweet infant and protect her in the car, is actually dangerous and being recalled.

Now I respect the manufacturer's decision to act quickly on a problem and recall their products, lest someone become injured or worse. But really. A car seat? I mean, really. How could a car seat possibly have gotten on the market if the "child restraint handle to the seat can loosen and fall off, posing a fall hazard for infants"? Don't they do strenuous tests on these things to make sure something just like this isn't going to happen? Before they begin selling them?

I know, I know. I am being very simplistic here. But I'm a mom. With kids in car seats. This is a particularly sucky design flaw.

For all the dirty details, go here. These are the brands with recalls: Safety 1st, Cosco, Eddie Bauer, and Disney, with several different travel systems included in the recall. And these were all sold between January of 2008 and April of 2009, so I'm certain there are lots of these car seats out there still seeing daily use.

Sorry to be the bearer of such yucky news. I promise to post a bathroom update soon. Maybe that will cheer us up!

Big Project: The Reveal!

(It should be noted that I had originally entitled this post Pig Project: The Reveal! Ha! I find humor in that.)

Finally, finally, finally, after a month of work, near-catastrophes, and much patience on the part of my family, my big project is finished. I know I hadn't even told you what my project even was (although I alluded and probably gave out plenty of telling clues), so let me give you a shot of the "before":

That's right, folks. I tackled my table. My hated, hated table.

I shouldn't hate this table so much. It's served our family and several college roommates well. I bought it from my Aunt Connie during the summer in between freshman and sophomore year of college (what, like, 7 1/2 years ago? Geez.), and it has stayed with me since. You probably know someone who has this table; you can still get them in the big box stores. In time, I came to hate its country look in my less-than-country home, but I couldn't afford to replace it. Also, why replace a table that was perfectly sound and well-built?

Instead of doing anything about it, I sulked for a very long time. I would declare my hatred for this poor, unassuming table to anyone who would listen, all the while failing to actually do anything about my table situation. My sister-in-law suggested painting it or staining it or something quite a while ago, but I ignored her and continued to grouse. (Janie is very patient with me.) I even attempted to buy an inexpensive but very nice used table set over the summer, but the deal fell through.

At that point, I snapped out of it. Duh. I had a table. I had the resources. I had (some of) the know-how. I could tackle this table and make it something beautiful while retaining what I had and preventing something from crowding up a landfill or an overfilled consignment store. I could make my husband happy by spending very little money for a "new" table. I could do this.

Once I made the decision, I started to prepare. I knew I needed more seating than just the four original Windsor chairs, so I purchased the two ladder-back, straw-seated chairs from a local consignment store. I decided I wanted an all-black table based on a table I had seen in a Pottery Barn earlier this fall. (I can't find a link, but rest assured, it was basically the same style, chairs and all, just painted black.) I consulted Raechel, who has painted dining room chairs and other furniture black, and she suggested I use oil-based satin paint for the smooth, Pottery Barn look. (That's really what she said, and we both know that's what we're all going for at all times.) Oil-based paint scared me a little, but I bit the bullet and bought a gallon of the stuff from Sherwin-Williams, as well as some tinted primer. I bought all of the supplies, stocked up on odorless mineral spirits, and went to work.

I went to work a month ago.

It took a long time.

But after all that time (and this rather rambling introduction), I'm happy and ready and just positively thrilled to reveal a beautiful final product.

Ta da!

It. Is. Gorgeous.

Seriously, it's wonderful. It was worth all the work, all the stained fingers, all the paint fumes (I hope), all the time. I am so very happy with it.

I had a less-than-quick stroke of genius regarding the ladder-back chairs. I didn't love the straw seats, so I had just planned on painting them black. Then a few days after starting, it hit me: why not make upholstered seats? Uh-duh. (I mentioned this brainstorm to my mother, who said, "Oh, yeah. I thought about that a while ago, but I didn't say anything because I thought you liked the straw seats." Clearly we failed to communicate. Clearly I am slow.) So I spent $15 on nice fabric and batting, borrowed my parents' staple gun, and went to work. I am pleased with the result, and now our seating is just that much more comfortable.

I won't lie: this was all a lot of hard work. The primer was fine, and very, very necessary, but the paint was another story. Oil-based paint, I soon discovered, is a booger to work with. It goes on like tar, and you have to be as careful and as smooth with the application as possible. At first I used a nice brush, which worked okay for the chairs, but I wasn't getting a smooth finish on the tabletop. I wised up and used a mini-roller with foam rollers, and the result was much smoother and as thin as possible. I would highly recommend foam rollers if you tackle a similar oil-based project. Foam rollers and/or foam paintbrushes also work well for the multiple layers of polyurethane you're sure to need. Also, lots of patience, because it takes ages for oil-based paint to dry in between layers.

I would also highly recommend odor-free mineral spirits for clean up, as well as lots of disposable gloves. (Maybe all of this is "duh" for you guys, but hey, I was learning as I went. And I'm notoriously bad about doing my homework when it comes to house projects. I like to proceed under the delusion that my natural talent and good looks (*cough*) will get the job done. I learned very quickly to take advice, research, and, when in doubt, Google it.) Finally, I would recommend this great painting tutorial from Young House Love. Their tutorial is based on latex paint, but it still helps.

I would also recommend a very patient and helpful husband. Between being gone for Thanksgiving for a week, a week's bout with a cold, and just the general hustle-and-bustle of a busy home, we were without a dining table for a month. Just let that sink in: we had nowhere to eat, do office work, or entertain for a whole month. We put the kids' play table in the dining room and let them have free rein for that time, but boy, it feels good to have an adult space again.

One final detail for the dressing-up of the dining room: chandelier lamp shades.

They really finish out the space. And don't tell that one little, bright guy that he's any different from the others. His hat is on special order.

So what do you think? Worth the work, or should I just have plunked down several hundred (or even over a thousand) dollars on a new one? Wait, I know what your answer will be. But still, in the middle of it all, I was grousing that I wish I could have just bought a new one. And of course I'm glad I didn't. I keep casually walking over to my "new" table, gazing adoringly at it, and stroking it lovingly.

I can't help it. I'm in love.

Onion-Head Baby

I am so excited because I have a major newsflash:

MY BIG EXCITING SUPER SECRET PROJECT IS FINISHED.

IT'S FINISHED AND PROUDLY DISPLAYED IN OUR HOME.

AFTER NEARLY ONE FREAKING WHOLE MONTH.

Sadly, I am unable to share pictures at this time, as it is night and I have absolutely zero talent with the flash on our camera. I'll try to snap a few (in between making granola and wiping bottoms) for a big reveal sometime tomorrow. Seriously, y'all. It has been a long time in coming (who knew I'd take this long?? who knew we'd put up with such an inconvenience for so long??), but it's so totally worth it. The end result truly pleases me.

Anyway, this small post isn't really about that. It's about Baby C, who is quickly and decidedly growing out of being a baby. *Sob* She walks like she was born to (well, yeah), picks up new words every day, manages to almost keep up with her wild brothers, and locks her brothers and mother upstairs.

Ohmyword, she is so skinny.

Yep. That's the door to our upstairs. Yep. It has a lock. Who knew? Well, not me, until she locked us all upstairs one day after I had put the boys down for a nap. (In case you're going to get riled up about me leaving her downstairs by herself: Puh-leeze. She was playing quietly and would have put up a major fuss had I dragged her away from her toys. Of course now I wish I had endured such a fuss, but c'est la vie.) Luckily I had the cell phone on me at the time and could call for aid. Aid came in the form of my dad, and he found a crying, sniveling, upset infant downstairs who had overturned chairs and moved piles of laundry in her distress, as well as a concerned, lock-picking mother crouched at the bottom of the steps.

Life is so very interesting. And now C has a special new talent! Hurrah!

In other news, she likes to accessorize.

That's my onion-head hat that Janie made for me last Christmas.

And, of course, there are always the shoes.

So there's a brief Baby C update. More exciting events to follow! Stay tuned!

Natural Parenting, Courtesy of xkcd

So I've posted this latest xkcd about three times in various social media, but it's so funny that I can't resist also putting it on the blog. Enjoy.