Cora's first flower arrangement

Cora's aunties helped her pick flowers and arrange them in a bud vase. She loved all the praise for using her small fingers to press the stems carefully into the vase, and took the privilege seriously when she was allowed to carefully carry it out to the table for a fancy dinner of quesadillas (her very favorite meal).

She gave my tummy kisses this morning. She likes to say, "Kick for your big sister!" although he rarely cooperates. He's busy right now, doing a small jig in my belly.

She's asleep. She had an active morning at Sheri's house while I plugged away at my novel. (I'm nearly 260 pages in and I still have more to go. I just wrote another five pages and I'm ready for a break.) We ate a picnic lunch in the backyard and planted carrot seeds in our garden, then raced around and tickled each other. Well, she raced. I guess I sort of waddled. Hopefully she'll wake up soon so we can go for a walk around the lake.

I have been feeling emotional about the changes ahead, about the fact that she will no longer receive my undivided attention. I know it will be a good thing, and that she will handle it fine, but I also know it will be a transition for us all.

Last night I felt him kick and I wanted to pour a thousand words of love into his ears. This pregnancy has been distracted and busy and I wanted to explain to him that he will be another great, bright light in our lives, and that we are getting more and more excited by the prospect of meeting him soon. Only 6-8 more weeks to go.

Confessions

I'm trying to believe that we're going to have one of these in just three months. A lil', wee, curled up, sleepy babe that dozes all day and wakes all night.

I am intermittently overjoyed, shocked (even though this pregnancy was planned), overwhelmed, and awash with feelings of guilt because I dread the sleeplessness yet I can't wait to meet him and cuddle him up in my arms, a real, live, small little being.

Right now he's kicking at my belly, probably protesting the influx of too much food. I seem to be extremely into eating all the time. Breakfast, snack, snack, lunch, snack, snack, snack, dinner, snack. Um, yeah. I just finished a plateful of salt and pepper ridge cut potato chips. They were delish, but not exactly full of the nutrients my growing babe really needs. Fat, salt, starch, yes. Vitamins? I'll have to get back to you on that.

I've also been distracted by how to accomplish a shared room with a 2-1/2-year-old and a baby. Granted, we're not going to attempt the shared room until the littlest is four or six months, but still. Phew. It's intimidating. I have to keep reminding myself that if all else fails, we can move downstairs and put the two kids in separate rooms upstairs. I've staved off anxiety by flipping through a recent spring copy of Pottery Barn Kids, finding peace in the uncluttered representations of perfect shared room bliss. All the combos of pinks and blues and toy boxes and loveliness makes it all look so idyllic.

I'm all for shared rooms. I think it's a great way to get kids to bond and learn important lessons about sharing and boundaries. But the wake-all-night sleep pattern of a newborn and the uninterrupted sleep habits of Cora feel highly at odds with each other.

Still, somehow if I focus on the idea of decorating the room for functionality and harmony, I feel better. I'm not thrilled about painting the room a third time in just a few years, but I feel like it would be a good way to jump start the process. Plus I really want Brian to paint a mural on one of the walls.

Aside from general young family angst, I have a few things I need to get off my chest:

1. I haven't written anything in my novel for TWO WEEKS.

2. One day, instead of writing, I watched Cutting Edge 3 while Cora napped. Yes, in case you are wondering, that is the third in a series of teen ice skating dramas. Don't ask why I chose it. It's enough that I am confessing it to you.

3. We spent nearly $1,100 on food in February, not counting nearly $300 on going out to eat.

4. I recently read (in a magazine in my doctor's office) that cell phone use while pregnant and during young years is linked to a 54% increase in behavioral problems, major depression, and messed up brain waves in kids. It's caused me to feel a bit obsessed and worried about how much I used my phone for conference calls and chats while pregnant with Cora. I think I'm officially going to get a pay-as-you-go phone in April when our two-year contract is up with AT&T. I even turned off the wireless on our modem because supposedly that is bad for their brains, too.

5. I have been looking on Redfin lately. (That's a real estate site.) I'm committed to staying here, but I still like to go there and look at big houses on big lots in areas where I don't think we want to live. Let's face it, I have a problem, people. It's better if I just don't go there, but I do. I'll have to work on that.

6. We are putting in 64 square feet of raised bed gardening space in our backyard and I'm sooo excited about gardening with Cora and harvesting good food. I'm even excited about learning how to can what I hope will be an over-abundance of good produce. However, I am intimidated about growing starts or mapping out how best to use two 4x8 beds, and how to manage Seattle weather. I mean, it was nearly summer on Saturday, 60-degrees and sunny and blue blue blue. Today it snowed. Nothing stuck, but still. Snow? Now? After the crocuses have shot up and the cherry blossoms have started their snowflake descent on our lawn?

7. I miss my body. I miss running and wine and braxton-hicks-free living. I miss feeling in charge of my life.

On the budget front, one thing I've noticed is that January's thrifty days provided some shopping training. Instead of anticipating a cart bursting with hundreds of foods and flavors, I've started to get a better sense of how to walk out of the store for under $100 a week. Along with our CSA deliveries, that means that we might be able to come in at under $150/week, which is great. More on that soon.

Tea and 37,054 words

It's a foggy morning. Clouds hang outside our windows and hover beneath the trees. I have a cup of dark, decaf Irish Breakfast tea, and three whole hours to write. The only sound in the house is the hum of our oil furnace. Cora is at her nanny share this morning. I left her at Jane's house, inspecting their very cool kid's kitchen and chatting about what she planned to eat at snack time.

Our little boy is kicking. That's the first time I've written those words. Our little boy? We found out about a week ago and it's still surreal. I can't get over it, and I'm thrilled.

I've been pretty exhausted this week. I'm finding that I'm just physically more prone to exhaustion in general, and my body will tell me when it's time to stop--usually that means I'm lying in bed with cramps and contractions thinking, "Oh yeah, I'm pregnant. I guess I can't do everything in one day." I'll hit 20 weeks tomorrow--halfway there!

So I've been trying to take it easy...and that brings me to a discussion I had with Brian the other night: Since when did making burritos turn into a two-hour dinnertime adventure?

Answer: Since I started roasting and pressure cooking the rice with spices and chopped tomatoes, and soaking the beans overnight and pressure cooking them with garlic and cumin seeds, and making refried beans with fried onions, and making tortillas from scratch, and mashing the avocado, and cooking the corn, and cutting the tomatoes and making the salsa, and chopping lettuce. This was after a day running around town and parks with Cora. The meal was delicious but let me tell you, that is a weekend meal. No more Thursday burritos of that caliber for awhile. I was lying on my bed with contractions before dinner even began. I AM PREGNANT. Remind me of that sometime, will ya? Burritos used to be a lot easier when we had canned beans and premade tortillas and a quick pot of rice on the stove.

So. The food has been delicious, this budgeting experience has been very valuable toward helping us realign our thinking--how much do we spend? How do we eat? What are our goals when it comes to food? I'm enjoying the whole thing. However, I have to make sure the meals are less labor intensive to avoid going into premature labor, you know what I mean? Simple will be the goal and theme next month--both in preparation and ingredients. I'm excited about it--sort of like a new monthly challenge. I want to try making more meals with fewer flavors, highlighting herbs and sauces and fresh ingredients. I'm working on our weekly menu right now, but I'm not sure when I'll post it. Hopefully soon. I'll do a monthly budget recap next week, too.

Yesterday as I was writing, I looked down at the page counter and was surprised to find that I'm nearly to 120 pages. Slowly, slowly goes the tortoise. So, I'm returning to my tea and my 37,054 words, and hope this morning will let me get lost in that adventure until Noon.

Thumpityswish thump thump

We heard the little plum's heartbeat on Monday. There's nothing more thrilling; it gets me choked up every time. I am becoming so excited about this new little person.

We officially told Cora about the baby on Monday, too. While I feel quite sure she'd already figured it out from the peripheral conversations going on around her, we had a "real" conversation about it in the doctor's office and showed her pictures of babies in bellies. She heard her sibling's heartbeat, too. She's been wandering around the house the past two weeks periodically slipping a doll under her shirt and explaining it's in her tummy. When asked if she wants a brother or a sister, she gives changing answers--sometimes a brother, sometimes a sister, no a brother, no a sister. I'm glad she seems so flexible about the idea.

My ability to concentrate is generally nil. Writing? What writing? Time is slipping away and very little has been done. I find myself periodically searching for classmates' names on google and discovering their recently published piece of writing, or I see a sudden facebook update announcing an upcoming novel. Sometimes I worry that writing is just one of those things I'm fooling myself about. I become either melodramatic or realistic (we won't know which that is until my life is over, I suppose. See? Melodrama.). I imagine turning 50 (or dying at a ripe old age) and having nothing to show for my own endeavors except a bunch of cluttered piles of paper and unfinished manuscripts, and diary entries in spidery, arthritic script. When I'm feeling optimistic, it's arguable that I'm feeling way overly optimistic because I imagine the path opening up before me--the manuscript finished, edited, and rewritten very easily, and the publishing process a success.

It's easy to become discouraged when nothing is getting done. That said, I am feeling better. I don't feel the need to sleep away the afternoon, so perhaps I can take back a few of these afternoons for productive work.

I am, however, slated to spend at least the next 20 minutes trying to read my last chapter draft while imagining a BABY in my belly.

Autumn

I know how boring it can sometimes be to listen to the exuberant exclamations of people in love with the weather. But bend an ear my way just for a second because it's one of my favorite times of year (stiff competition with spring). Cold, crisp, sunny and clear. Leaves are dropping, frost is forming, temperatures are falling, and we're eating some of the best Gala apples we've had all year. We pulled out an extra blanket for the bed at night and even turned on the heat. Oddly, despite my constant protestations as our beautiful summer visibly waned, I love it. I can't wait for the bursts of color and the baked dinners, and a reason to make pie.

Cora and I made cookies this morning and met friends for a play date at the zoo. Our children zoomed around at full speed while all the other animals seemed to be in pre-hibernation mode. The two 850-pound bear brothers were fast asleep on their rock perch, one with his enormous head resting on an extended paw. The otter den was filled with two, entwined otters with eyes tightly shut. The lions were piled atop each other and snoozing in the sun. An elk was asleep on the ground in such a pose as to look, well, permanently there. The fox was in his den and the wolf was nowhere to be seen. Only the giraffes and shiny-eyed eagles were up and about. The kids' cheeks were rosy from an abundance of giggly shrieks and fresh air.

In other news (maybe our only news these days?), we're still here, still living in an unsold house. And I'm writing. Just tipped over the 80-page mark, so that's something. I've been getting up at 5:15 and brewing a huge pot of tea, then tiptoeing downstairs and writing until Cora wakes up and we all gather together for breakfast. I'm a little tired today, but I'm excited. I feel like I'm getting somewhere.

Happy Autumn!

Hiding away...

...and writing. It's raining outside and the yard is filled with robins browsing the lawn for lunch. Walnuts are growing on our tree outside my window, and the squirrels keep checking them for ripeness. The apple and pear trees are showing their first beginnings of growth. I think writing is sometimes a lot like this...waiting for the rain, waiting for the fruit to ripen, waiting for the natural progression of things, and patiently watching the words fill up one page, and then another, as the story unfolds.

Story time

Brian took this picture on a vacation a few weekends ago after he put Cora down for the night in the pack 'n play. "Mause and Diddy" are her sleepy time must-haves.

Now it's a Monday afternoon at home. You know when you start the week with a big ho hum and sort of breathe out the sentiment Well, it's another week. I guess we'll get it started.

Hello, O Daunting Monday.

I'm a bit surprised to be able to say it's been a good one so far--and productive. Now Cora's asleep in her bed, mouse curled into her belly and piggy snuggled into her back.

And I have a story idea. It's the first one I've had in several months, so it feels like a big deal. I stumbled onto it this Saturday while walking Cora around Green Lake and drinking a very large cup of dark tea.

Fingers crossed that I can keep up the momentum once I get past the first sentence. I need to figure out a way to take this idea and place it carefully in a protective jar on my desk where I'll be able to find it whenever I need it. I want to write this thing.

Tea and chocolate...and Friday

I love tea. Earl Grey is my favorite, I'm pretty much addicted to the taste of bergamot. And I recently picked up some Ritter Sport hazelnut chocolate that tastes especially good when paired with a hot cup of tea. It's Friday and we just had an awesome morning with one of my most supportive and sweet friends, and her little daughter. We went to the Seattle Children's Museum and enjoyed all the fun activities there. Cora took a nap this morning and is sleeping again now...She seems super tired after this long week of activities and sleep disturbances while I try to figure out her schedule.

Tea and chocolate. Yum. I love that Cora is fast asleep, growing her brain and her body while I decay mine slowly with sugar and caffeine. I have enjoyed a complicated struggle with caffeine, and wish right now that I was drinking full-strength coffee and buzzing about with a million fresh ideas, instead of soaking up whatever small strain of caffeine is left in my decaffeinated tea, and waiting for it to give my brain a midday boost.

I'm looking forward to the weekend and a few good adventures. Cora spent 10 minutes kissing and waving goodbye to her Dada this morning, and I know she will be all abuzz with excitement when he comes home tonight. She has a different personality with him, gives him tons of wrinkled-nose smiles and giggles, and joyfully watches him perform silly antics for her. This morning we waved frantically at him through the living room window while he did a dance on the sidewalk, kicking up his feet and clicking them together, then spinning around in fabulous ballet form. And then she just quietly settled down and started playing with her animal flash cards and books while I did the dishes. She loves to come in to the kitchen and hang on my leg and then take small journeys to the cupboards and shelves, rummage about the drawer with all the metal lids, and then head back for another leg snuggle.

I have been thinking about my MFA program, and voice and character development and all the writerly things that we studied and thought about intensely for two years. It is so much easier to write about little Cora, a tangible little character in my house who wanders around and laughs and cries and waves and kisses. But I am excited to start writing short stories about quirky characters' lives and adventures. It occurs to me that I should know my fictitious characters as well as I know Cora; I should imagine what they were like as children, the environment where they grew up...it's important, it's formative. It sticks with us. It's something I've thought about loosely before, but it honestly hasn't struck me with such force until now. What I am thinking is that I had better be in love with my characters enough to write about them. Even if I hate what they stand for, I should love them as human beings enough to write carefully about them, to research their first words and first crushes, elementary and high school memories.