Volume 9, kind of, with a side of drear

Torsten is in Germany for work this week and... ehhhh. It's not super fun. He doesn't travel for work all that much, so I can't really complain (especially since his work is remote and that often comes with a hefty dose of travel). And when he has domestic business trips it's not so bad. But the German ones are just... blah. First of all, he leaves on Saturday afternoon because it's an overnight flight so he arrives in Germany on Sunday morning, takes a nap, has dinner with his parents, and then is rested and ready to work on Monday morning. So we lose pretty much a whole weekend with him every time. Second of all, the eight-hour time difference is absolutely killer. He and I have almost no contact the whole time he's gone--just a couple of quick texts exchanged during the few moments when he has just woken up for the day and I'm about to go to bed.

But the worst part is that he doesn't get to talk to the kids at all the whole time he's gone. When Torsten wakes up for the day, the kids are asleep. When the kids wake up, Torsten is at work. When Torsten gets home from work, the kids are at school. When the kids get home from school, Torsten is asleep. And... repeat. So, it's a full week, not just a work week, of solo parenting for me, combined with a side of the kids missing their dad and asking repeatedly when they're going to get to talk to him and when he's going to come home, and all around it's just no fun.

Also, today is the ninth anniversary of our first date, which is also the day we met for the first time and the day our relationship started. Normally this is the anniversary we care about most, more than our wedding anniversary, but... different continents today, so. Bleh all around.

Anyway! Dreary attitude aside, things are fine, really. The weather has finally turned fall-like, and I noticed this morning that there's fresh snow on the highest mountains, so that's great, and also lovely. With Torsten out of town I can't get to the gym in the evenings, but I've managed to fit in a couple of afternoon sessions, so I feel good about that. A dear friend came over last night after all our respective kids were asleep for the night and just hung out and chatted, and that was delightful and a refreshing dose of adult company. I have a sitter coming tomorrow so I can go to my book club, which I love, so I'm looking forward to that too. And honestly, the kids have been happy and well-behaved and it's going fine.

Also, the kids and I took Montana to the dog park on Monday and for the first time, Callum and Montana really played together, like buds, running together and waiting for each other and just having a good time. Montana has always been totally fine with our kids, gentle and protective, but she has never been thrilled about them--you could tell when we brought Callum home from the hospital that she felt like she was being punished for something, and waves of that rescue dog needy-people-pleaser remorse came rolling off her, and while she's adjusted in the ensuing almost five (!) years, it's never been one of those relationships where kids and dog are BFFs. But at the dog park, they WERE lovely together and very happy, and that was really nice to see.

So it hasn't been a bad week, truly! But. I don't know, it's just dragging. I miss Torsten, and the kids miss him too, and... well, like I said above: ehhhh.

Anyway! Happy anniversary to us. These are the only two pictures I can find of just the two of us from the last year. So... better get on that whole photo-taking thing, because my, how things have changed. So many photos back in the day! Ah, well. The relationship is thriving, so I guess the photos are secondary? Let's hope, anyway.

New Favorite Place: Isla Mujeres

So, yes. In April Torsten and I spent a week in Mexico sans kids. It was every bit as amazing as we had hoped. This view from our balcony pretty much sums it all up:

We went to Isla Mujeres, off the coast of Cancun but very different from Cancun--small, relaxed vibe, and no real nightlife/club scene, at least not at the part of the island where our hotel was. We stayed at the Zoetry Villa Rolandi, where we found an awesome introductory rate because the Villa Rolandi was a previously independent hotel that was very recently bought by Zoetry. Until it was taken over, it was strictly adults-only; now it allows children but isn't really kid-friendly and we didn't see any kids staying there during our visit.

 

We picked the hotel based on a few criteria: we wanted a guaranteed oceanfront balcony (it is surprising how many hotels in Mexico won't let you book an oceanfront room, even if you're willing to pay extra for the guarantee), an all-inclusive resort that had actual good food and drinks, a swimmable beach, nice but not necessarily super luxury rooms, access through a direct flight, and still within our fairly modest budget. This hotel was all that and more. We LOVED it and will definitely stay there again if and when we go back to Isla Mujeres without the kids (if we go with the kids we would probably rent a house/condo or go to a different Mexico location with bigger resorts that have kids' activities and whatnot).

The whole trip was perfect. We spent every day except one at the hotel. They picked us up at the marina in Cancun and brought us over on the hotel boat so that we didn't have to mess around with ferries and taxis. The room was gorgeous, honestly way nicer than we were expecting - the hotel is not ultramodern; it's maybe 20 years old and has some character to it, but that isn't a euphemism for being run-down - it just truly is nice in a sort of mellow way? It has a Mediterranean feel to it. There were two restaurants, one open all day overlooking the water, and the other a fixed-menu dinner-only spot. Both were DELICIOUS, which is kind of amazing for an all-inclusive. The drinks were excellent, and Torsten discovered what is now his new favorite drink, a mango martini made with fresh mango puree. The service was top-notch - everyone was incredibly nice. The front desk guys even obtained a couple of rafts for us (which, for the beach, I highly recommend - it's so nice to bob around the gentle waves on a raft; we discovered this trick on our honeymoon in the Dominican Republic and it was delightful).

And the pool! And the beach! And the poolside service! And the breakfast on the balcony! Just. All of it. As soon as we walked into our room and caught sight of the turquoise ocean out the giant glass wall? I swear both of us FELT our blood pressure drop.

When we did go out and about, we rented a golf cart (standard tourist conveyance) through our hotel and made a day of it, starting at Mango Cafe (definitely popular with the tourists but FOR GOOD REASON YUM), then heading down to Punta Sur, the easternmost point in Mexico where the Caribbean meets the bay, which was spectacular. We then did a quick stop by Tortugranja, the national sea turtle sanctuary, where we also saw an injured dolphin being rehabilitated, before heading north on the island to check out Playa Norte (actually we were kind of disappointed by it - definitely lovely but SO crowded and hot). We had lunch at a little mom and pop taqueria that was AMAZING and then wandered through El Centro, where we haggled for some souvenirs for the kids (and OK fine a couple for ourselves too) before nearly combusting from the heat and humidity. We spent the last hour just driving along the coastal roads taking in the view and marveling over the amazingness of it all.

 

The kids did great with my parents while we were gone--perfectly cheerful and happy, no meltdowns or acting out, so that was nice. Annika definitely did some testing and falling apart after we returned, but for my parents she was perfect. She's about the youngest that we are willing to leave her--we left Callum for the first time when he was about the same age and we went to Maine, and that worked out well, so we had some precedent. And oh, it was such a nice marital retreat, you know? We were so relaxed and we had so much time together and we were able to have so many good and important discussions, figure out some stuff about ourselves and our lives and some of the big things that we had kept meaning to discuss but just never thought about or had the energy for during the daily grind. We definitely came home feeling refreshed and decided on a few points, which was perfect.

If we come back with the kids and rent a house we would also rent a golf cart for the week so we could go out and about as much as we pleased, and try more restaurants (there were quite a few excellent-sounding ones on TripAdvisor and Yelp). We would also try snorkeling, possibly on a cool boat trip. This week was all about decompressing and moving as little as possible, so we skipped those things, but if we were to gird our loins for an active family trip, Isla Mujeres would be a great location for that too. I cannot wait to go back.

Family photos wheeeee

Earlier this month, for the fourth year in a row, we had our beloved photographer, Kristy, of moodeous photography, take some family photos. This year we arranged a two-shoot setup, so we could get some outdoor family photos while I'm still pregnant, and then after Penguin is born she will come to our house to take some baby photos. So! I'm looking forward to that second session for myriad reasons (BABY BABY BABY), but in the meantime, she did her usual AWESOME job with the first set. Callum was a total ham for the camera, a habit that normally drives me nuts but led to some great photos on this particular day. Here are some of my favorites, and the full set is here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Torsten, volume 7

Dear Torsten,

Seven years and one day ago, you and I went on our first date. It went very well. So well, in fact, that even though we didn't "officially" determine that we were in a relationship that day, we consider it our anniversary, because we've been together, wholly and uncomplicatedly, ever since.

 

This year, year seven, was apparently the year that we stopped taking photos. I just went through all the photos from the last year and I found photos from three days, in the entire year, that feature both of us. This is due partly to the fact that this was the year that Callum developed an interest in grabbing our camera, so we started storing it out of his reach and out of our own, and partly to the fact that we are busy and our child never holds still and and and. The long and short of it is that there are only three dates where we could actually prove, photographically, that we were together--and the most recent one was 11 months ago. So let's make that a goal for next year--especially with this new baby coming--more pictures, with both of us, taken with a proper camera, please.

 

The lack of physical evidence of our togetherness means nothing, luckily, when it comes to how together we actually were over the course of this year. This year has been jam-packed, and exhausting, and awesome. We took a toddler to three European countries, and went through eight months of pregnancy, and both worked full time. I got a master's degree. We got away--just the two of us--to Cabo for four days, which was blissful but not nearly long enough. And through it all you have been there, being supportive and hilarious and loving and there. Very there. Very together.

 

This pregnancy has taken more of a toll on me than the last one did, even though physically it's been quite straightforward. The combination of a two-year-old and a demanding job and graduate school and pregnancy really started to weigh me down, and I've been turning to you more and more to take on a large share of the household and parenting duties, while I basically lump on the couch. I'd been feeling bad about that--feeling like I was acting lazy and selfish--worrying that I was overburdening you and that you would start to feel resentful--and also feeling like it's unfair of me to ask so much of you when I'm still physically capable of doing most of this stuff, and it's just that I don't have the mental energy to force myself to do it. So last night I dumped all those feelings on you, sure that you were going to tell me that yes, I was asking too much, and it really was unfair, and too much for you--and instead you told me that you feel like you don't do enough. It was the perfect response, and just hearing you say it was an immediate weight off my shoulders. After seven years, we still amaze each other sometimes with how well we know each other, how we can anticipate what the other will think and say and do in certain situations--and that response, and how helpful it was to me, was so reassuring, such a good indicator of how well you really do know me, how much you get me and how good you are at meeting my needs. And I'm so grateful for that, and for you.

 

This next year, and the upcoming transition from one kid to two, will certainly be challenging. But I so appreciate that while I can be nervous about how it will be difficult and exhausting, I don't have to worry about its effect on us. Yes, it will impact our marriage, and yes, we may have to work harder at things we've previously taken for granted. But we will do it together, the way we always do. And it will be fine, and in the end, it will be great. And even during the part where we have to work to adjust, where it might not feel like a change for the better, even if we are snippy with each other sometimes and overtired--underneath it all there's the complete security of knowing that I'm married to you, the right person, the only person I'd want to do this with. Because you are the best. And I swear, even when it might not seem like it--I never forget that.

 

Love,
Jess

Mattress: A Horror Story

I believe I mentioned on Twitter at the end of last week that Callum climbed out of his crib for the first time. Sort of a typical two-year-old thing to do and something we'd been anticipating for awhile, actually, since he's so tall, so not exactly an earth-shattering moment, though we were hoping to get a couple more months out of the crib, but you know, whatever.

Regardless, the whole crib climbing thing is just backstory, designed to illustrate why, on Friday evening, we drove a few miles down the interstate to purchase a new, double mattress for Callum to use. We found a good quality, reasonably priced mattress that we liked, and then we found a floor model on sale for half the price, so we bought it, but it didn't come with delivery. That was fine, though, the salesman assured us, because we have a good solid SUV and he had a big spool of twine and he ties mattresses to cars all the time! It's no big deal!

So. We bought the mattress. We hauled it out to the car. The mattress store manager tied it solidly to the roof with twine. He assured us it wouldn't budge. The three of us (Callum was with us too) climbed in the car and drove cautiously away.

You see where this is going, right? I don't even have to tell you the end of this story, do I, because you already know what's coming, don't you?

Yeah. We trundled cautiously along, the mattress seemed secure, we drove up the entrance ramp onto the highway... and close to the end of the ramp, when we had gotten up to maybe 50 MPH or so, the mattress caught the wind, lifted like a sail, tore right through the "no-budging" twine, and flew off the back of our car onto the highway. I saw the whole thing happen, through our sunroof, and OMG. TERRIFYING.

You guys, we were so, so lucky. The mattress didn't hit an oncoming car. It didn't land in a middle lane of speeding traffic. It landed half on the shoulder of the road, half on the entrance ramp. It was actually at a place where two entrance ramps merged, so it was extra wide, and there was plenty of room for cars to steer around it. It wasn't yet dark. It didn't end up causing an accident (damn, now I've gone and given away the ending of the story). Even the mattress itself was unscathed. It was all fine. FINE. But OH MY GOD.

So yeah. Our mattress flew off our car and landed on the highway. Torsten reacted well, and we pulled over onto the (narrow, barely as wide as our car) shoulder with our hazard lights on, staring at each other going OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WHAT DO WE DO OUR MATTRESS IS GOING TO CAUSE A HORRIBLE FATAL ACCIDENT.

After we collected ourselves, we assessed the situation to determine whether we could safely get out of the car and walk back to the mattress and... move it, somehow. We concluded that we could not. The shoulder was too narrow for us to walk safely--if someone was texting or not paying attention and swerved onto the shoulder, we'd be dead. Also, I was on the passenger side of the car and could get out fairly safely, but we'd need two people to lift the mattress and Torsten couldn't get out of the car without jumping directly into traffic (and the interior of our car is set up in such a way that it's nearly impossible to climb across). Also, Callum was in the car and we weren't about to leave him alone in a car parked on the shoulder of the interstate.

So, we called 911. I kind of felt like we were overreacting and maybe should be calling the non-emergency police number instead, but you know what? It was a really dangerous situation. There was a mattress lying in traffic. If someone hit that mattress at 50 MPH (or more), they would cause a serious accident. Meanwhile, we were parked on a narrow shoulder (with our child in the car), which didn't feel all too secure. Basically, we wanted that mattress off the road STAT. And the 911 operator seemed to agree. The second I told her "mattress on highway" she was all over me for location details and dispatched someone right away. I asked how long it would be and she said she didn't know, but that mattresses on the road were a high priority so it would be as soon as possible. She told us that if we felt safe where we were parked on the shoulder (borderline) we should just wait in the car for the police officer to arrive and come talk to us.

So that's what we did, and you guys, it was seriously the most terrifying experience of my entire life. It was getting dark, and we were sitting there on the shoulder of the highway trying (unsuccessfully) to convince ourselves not to stare at the mattress in the road behind us and all the cars veering around it at the last second at high speeds, convinced that every single one of them was going to hit the mattress and spin out into a horrible accident and be killed and OH MY GOD WHERE IS THE COP WHY ISN'T HE HERE YET THEY ARE ALWAYS EVERYWHERE HANDING OUT STUPID SPEEDING TICKETS BUT SOMEONE COULD ACTUALLY BE KILLED HERE SO WHY ARE THEY TAKING SO LONG. At one point a very nice man in a pickup truck pulled over and came to talk to us (he climbed out his passenger side, thankfully) and offered to help us pick it up but we told him it was too dangerous and thank you very much but please don't risk it, we will just wait for the police.

The cop did eventually show up, after 15 life-shortening minutes of tension and stress. He parked behind the mattress with his lights on and came over to talk to us and I got out of the car and he and I lifted the mattress over the concrete barrier into the grass on the other side and then he told us to just pull the broken twine into our car so that it wouldn't get caught under our tires and sent us on our way. He was incredibly nice and didn't lecture or give us a ticket or anything.

So yeah. We drove away, took the next exit, drove down the frontage road alongside the highway until we located the mattress, pulled into the parking lot near it, and sat there debating what to do. Obviously we couldn't put the mattress on the car again, even if the twine hadn't been broken. And it wouldn't fit in the car. We called the mattress store and spoke to the guy who had tied the damn thing on our car to begin with, and while he was somewhat sympathetic, he was also surprisingly detached and also completely useless. We racked our brains for friends who owned a truck, thought of one, and called them, but they weren't answering. Then we remembered that there was a Home Depot down the street and that they rent out pickup trucks, so we drove over there, rented a truck, drove back to the mattress, got it secured in the truck, caravaned home, left the mattress in our garage, and caravaned back to Home Depot to return the truck. And my heart did not stop pounding and I did not stop shaking during the entire experience.

Oh and also when we left the house to buy the mattress? We forgot the diaper bag and had no food or water for Callum. He was asking for it when we left the mattress store, and we told him we'd be home soon (HAHAHA) and he could have some then. But we didn't anticipate the slight 1.5-hour delay. And you guys, he was so sweet and patient. As we were on the side of the highway freaking out he sat in his car seat singing songs and occasionally asking for food and water but not getting upset when we told him we were really sorry but we didn't have any right now. In fact, the thing that made him most upset was when Torsten drove the Home Depot truck and we wouldn't let him ride in it too. ("Mommy bye-bye car. Daddy bye-bye truck! CALLUM BYE-BYE TRUCK??")

So yeah, basically Callum is a perfect angel child and he better REALLY like that new mattress. Also next time I'm paying for delivery, oh my god.

Postmortem bullets

• I don't have a whole lot to say today. I'm tired and thrilled after last night's election. But I know a lot of people aren't, and while I feel very strongly that some very important issues made significant progress last night, I am hopeful that maybe we will see more political cooperation in the next four years. Beyond that, I'm not interested in rubbing salt in anyone's wounds right now.
• There are two days left to enter my Tiny Prints giveaway, so click over and leave a comment if you haven't already.
• Today is Torsten's birthday. He is 35 and not happy about it. But I'm hoping to make it a nice day for him anyway. Happy birthday to my amazing husband. I think it's going to be another fantastic year.

Four years in

Four years ago today, this happened:



Four years seems to be the point where it starts to feel like we are really solidly in this, well beyond the newlywed phase and into real life. And we are. We have a toddler, two jobs, grad school, a house to deal with and a mortgage to pay. Adult things. There's no major upheaval going on right now, just the regular stuff and the routine. But it doesn't feel routine. It's interesting and pleasant and enjoyable and I love it. I love the life we've built together. I love our marriage. I love our family. I love our routine.

This is our family now, four years in. I am so happy with where we are now. I can't wait to see where we go.

(Year One, Year Two, Year Three)

Hung up

Apparently I'm going to have to make some slight revisions to our fall plans. The first time I suggested apple picking to Torsten it seems that he didn't take me seriously, but when I mentioned it again he was rather incredulous. Turns out that starting from the age of four (according to him) he was forced to spend entire weekends from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m. (according to him) picking apples in his grandparents' orchard, and it was miserable and difficult and as a result he hates picking apples. Plus, as he pointed out, I don't even like apples.

I tried to tell him that this could be a way of erasing the childhood trauma! We can jaunt over to the orchard, spend a few minutes picking a solitary bag of apples, drink some apple cider, pet the animals, and leave! And it would be magical and healing and he would have fond memories of how apple picking can actually be fun! But he wasn't having it. And he's right, I don't like apples (except Granny Smith). So. We're crossing that one off the list.

(The boots are still awesome, though. And the requested fall weather has totally arrived and we are loving it. And we WILL do the pumpkin patch. So, the fall plans are not a total fail.)

Unrelatedly, Callum has started making truck noises, and you guys, it's so cute. I think he's trying to say "vroom" and he does it with cars and trucks and trains, though he sometimes does yell "choo choo" when he's playing with his trains. The truck noises may be one of my very favorite things he does right now:



Also, almost 21 months is my new favorite age. He listens so much better. He eats with utensils. He talks constantly and he's working on combining two words and it feels like we're really close to him being able to full-on talk, in sentences, so that we can understand what he's saying. He dispenses hugs and his eyes are just so expressive. I was thinking recently about how I don't really start to recognize Callum in his baby photos until about 2-3 months, and I think it's because that's when you start being able to see his personality in his eyes. His hair is the thing that people comment on most (because it IS red and beautiful), but his eyes are what really stand out to me. I never really believed all that crap about eyes being windows to the soul, etc., but his Callum-ness just radiates out through his. Maybe it's because he's young and guileless, and maybe it will change as he gets older, but right now you can read him through his eyes, and I think it's amazing.

(As an update: he still has a cold but he's stopped wheezing and we haven't needed the albuterol in days.)

So, since we're talking about childhood hangups (or any kind of hangup), tell me: is there something that most people love to do that you can't stand? And if so, is it because of some traumatizing past experience, or just because you think the rest of the world is crazy?

The origins of the Man Cold

Callum has bronchiolitis for the second time. This case seems worse than the previous case, because that time it took me ages to figure out that he might have something more serious than a cold, and even when I did bring him to the pediatrician, I and the nurses still thought that it might be nothing.

But this time, when he started wheezing, I could tell immediately. He had a cold for a few days, just run-of-the-mill, and then Monday night, shortly after we returned home from North Carolina, he started whistling when he breathed. We put him to bed and instead of sleeping through the night like usual, he woke screaming at 2:30 a.m., and then starting at 4 a.m. he woke up wailing every half hour for the rest of the night. There was nothing we could really do for him, other than try ibuprofen in case his ears or throat were bothering him (spoiler alert: they weren't, and the ibuprofen didn't help at all). Then when he woke up we saw that he was really working hard to breathe. He was grunting with every breath and his stomach was caving in as he breathed (which I have since learned is called retracting). He was also still whistling and rasping as he breathed. I called the pediatrician on the dot of 8 and hustled him in for a sick visit later that morning.

I felt good about how I handled the situation this time. I immediately recognized that he was wheezing, compared to last time where the pediatrician had to show me the stomach retractions to point out that he was wheezing (though the wheezing was much, much more subtle last time, and pretty much nobody could have missed it this time). I didn't panic and I wasn't really worried, but I knew he needed care right away. I double-checked our nebulizer to make sure we hadn't lost any parts before we went in, in case I needed to ask for replacements at the doctor's office. We knew what to do to try to help until we could get him to the doctor, putting a humidifier in his room and encouraging fluid intake and generally soothing and cuddling and trying to help him relax. Seeing how hard he was working to breathe made me feel really sorry for him, and sorry that I couldn't help him more, but I wasn't freaking out or anything, because I knew as soon as he could get a breathing treatment he would feel much better.

The doctor was great. We brought him in and his pulse ox was low (mid-80s) and the doctor came right in and listened to him wheeze and grunt and watched his stomach and checked his lungs with the stethoscope and told me that he was in respiratory distress and needed albuterol right then, and that if he didn't respond to the albuterol or if his pulse ox went any lower we would need to take him to the hospital for oxygen. So, you know, nobody wants to hear a doctor suggest that their kid might need to go to the hospital, but even then it was just for oxygen, you know? It wasn't like he required immediate life-saving care.

Anyway, I figured we would have to do an in-office nebulizer treatment like we did the previous time, but instead the doctor went and got an inhaler! With a canister attached and a face mask attached to that so that the meds would only come out when Callum actually breathed in. And I held him down and pinned his arms and he screamed and thrashed and the doctor gave him four good puffs of the albuterol and held the mask over his face until he stopped holding his breath and breathed in a few good times, and then in literally under a minute, he was better. The grunting and retractions stopped and his breathing slowed way down (it had been 60 breaths per minute instead of the desired 40) and he visibly relaxed, and then the doctor checked his pulse ox again and it had gone up to the low 90s.

(Only then did the doctor tell me that the one possible side effect of albuterol is hyperactivity, and that within a few minutes he might be totally bouncing off the walls, but luckily it turned out that it doesn't seem to have that effect on Callum. If anything it actually seems to make him sleepy.)

It was pretty impressive to see how quickly he responded to the albuterol, and especially when the doctor then told me that lots of kids don't respond to it at all, or not nearly as well, and emphasized again that if that had been the case we would have been on our way to the hospital. But since we were lucky and he did respond, the doctor observed him for a few more minutes, checked his lungs again, prescribed an oral steroid, gave us many instructions about albuterol and the inhaler and the steroids, told us that given how well Callum had responded to the albuterol, he wasn't at all concerned that this would become more serious, and sent us home.

Where Torsten immediately began to coddle him. Which: not a bad thing! A very good thing! Very sweet to see how he was being cuddled and soothed and told how poor he was and on and on. And especially when two hours later, he went back into respiratory distress complete with grunting and retractions, all while lying limply on the floor, and I was still at the pharmacy waiting for them to finally get the meds ready so we didn't actually have any albuterol on hand yet to give him, it's nice that his dad was there.

(The second albuterol treatment did the trick, by the way, and while he's gotten somewhat wheezy a few times since then, he hasn't gone back into distress, and he's seemed much happier and more comfortable, and he took a three-hour nap yesterday and slept through the night last night, so it seems like he's improving and hopefully the oral steroids will kick in soon and he'll stop needing the albuterol. Also, OMG I am so glad we have an inhaler now instead of the nebulizer. He HATES it as much as he hated the nebulizer, but it only takes 30 seconds instead of 10-15 minutes. WIN. Also, I'm so grateful to have albuterol on hand, and really glad that the doctor made an offhand comment about how we should travel with it in the future--I am totally taking it with us on our massive Europe trip at the holidays, when we will be on many planes and in the middle of RSV season and in foreign countries where I don't even want to think about how complicated it would be to try to use our health insurance, but I totally wouldn't have thought of packing the albuterol if the doctor hadn't mentioned it.)

Anyway, the reason I originally set out to write this post wasn't even to describe all the details of what is, really, just a typical childhood disease (at least for a kid with sensitive lungs like Callum) and not all that big a deal. It was really to point out that while Callum has been a champ throughout the whole thing, Torsten has basically been doing everything in his power to give this kid a total Man Cold. Last night, for example. Callum had woken up from his massive nap, had another albuterol treatment, and was in a GREAT mood. Perky, happy, running around, playing with all his toys, babbling and talking, full of energy. And as a result, he made a giant mess with his toys. Our general policy is that before he goes to bed, he then has to help clean up any messes he's made (with our assistance, obviously, so we won't be there all night). He's very good at this and actually likes doing it. He will pick up all his toys and put them on shelves and in bins, and then he will walk around the room peering in corners and under furniture to see if he missed anything. (Yes, it is as cute as it sounds.)

But last night, Torsten took Callum to bed and then I walked into the living room to discover that the place was still a disaster area. So when Torsten came in, I asked him why he hadn't had Callum clean up like usual, and he said, "Oh, he was too sick to clean up." Despite the fact that he clearly wasn't too sick to make the damn mess in the first place.

The child is one year old and his father is already teaching him how to have a Man Cold. We are all screwed.

Dear Torsten, volume 6

Dear Torsten,

Six years and two days (sorry!) ago, you and I went on our first date. I was half an hour late and I had your cell phone number, but I didn't call to say I would be late because I thought it would be awkward to talk on the phone before we'd ever met (I've always been the epitome of smoothness, clearly--though in my defense I also didn't call because I didn't realize how far away the restaurant was and kept thinking I'd be there any second). I found out later that I showed up literally right before you were going to walk out. So that was a near-miss, huh?



For the first time in a few years, I'm not going to say that this last year was a huge year for us in terms of life changes. Because there weren't really a whole lot. Things are sort of stable for us right now. We've both been in our "new" jobs for over a year. We have pretty much settled into this parenting thing. We've been in our house for three and a half years now. Though, we did replace the siding on our house this year. That was a pretty major event.

(This picture features the old siding. Just in case you were wondering why we replaced it.)

Basically, it feels like we've sort of moved into the next phase of our life, the domestic-routine-with-kids phase, the one that will last until any and all offspring have vacated the premises. There aren't major shakeups and new things happening all the time recently. This isn't to say that those things won't happen again, because of course at some point they will--but this way isn't so bad either. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's downright good.



It doesn't feel routine at all. All the little things that happen to us feel fresh and exciting and momentous, and you are a big part of why they feel that way.  You are so excited that Callum can build Legos with you now, that he's spouting off words in German, that he actually listens to and complies with our requests. You are bubbling over with your love for this child. You are amazed by everything he does, and you share that amazement with me and anyone else who will listen.



Your new job has worked out fantastically, and you have been as successful at it as I always thought you would be. It's so nice to see you happy in a job, doing exactly what you've always dreamed of doing and talking passionately about your latest project and how excited you are about it. Even if I am sometimes hard-pressed to keep my eyes from crossing when you begin elaborating on some of the more technical aspects of your work, I'm just so delighted to see you in a career that you are so enthusiastic about.



You've worked really hard this year on not letting your natural worrier tendencies dominate your life, and you've made amazing progress. I am so impressed with how self-aware you've been, how thoughtfully and thoroughly you've tried to improve this aspect of yourself, and how successful you've been. Last week at my parents' house Callum fell down the stairs and rolled head over heels from the top step all the way down to the landing while you and I watched helplessly. It was a sickening feeling, and while we both sprinted to pick him up and check him out and soothe him and make sure he was OK, you did not spend the rest of the week asking worriedly if maybe we'd overlooked a concussion and should we just stop by the ER to be sure. That was the clearest sign yet that things have really changed around here.



A lot of people say that things happen for a reason, that everything will work itself out. I always have a hard time believing that because I've seen many people experience truly atrocious life events, things so awful that they make it feel like an insult to airily announce that in MY perfect life, everything always works out. But things really are wonderful for us, and it's really tempting to ease into that mindset of assuming that they always will be. When in reality, things are so great that sometimes I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering when something awful will happen to us. It's a lovely train of thought, isn't it? But the thing is that I've come a long way as far as these types of worries. Maybe something awful will happen to us eventually. Maybe we'll be lucky enough to only have to deal with the regular kinds of tough things. But either way, as long as you're here with me I know I'll be able to handle it. And I hope you feel the same about me, because I'll always be here for you too.



Love,
Jess

Back in the game

We had kind of a busy summer. Then Labor Day came and I thought OK! Things are calm now! But then I looked at my schedule and they kind of... aren't. Calm, that is. CalmER, maybe. But in addition to work and school and baby and LIFE, Torsten has a business trip coming up, then we're taking Callum to visit my parents in October, then my parents are coming here for Thanksgiving, and THEN we close out the year with a three-country European trip, one for which we STILL have not finalized all the details because HOLY HELL. Three countries in 2.5 weeks with a baby? Turns out it's kind of a complicated endeavor. But you know what? I'm starting to come to the realization that we like it that way. I mean, we're pretty laid back people and we like to relax. But we also like to shake things up every now and then. (Remember 2009? The year we both tried and failed to quit our jobs, bought a car, moved across the country, got a dog, bought a house, and I had weight-loss surgery, all in the span of four months? THAT was a whirlwind year that I'd rather not repeat, but I think we do kind of like to always have SOMETHING a little out of the ordinary on the horizon, and I'm totally OK with that.)

Anyway! Much of what we did this summer deserves separate posts, but here's the highlight reel:

Torsten and I went to Maine in June, by ourselves, while my parents stayed with Callum here in Denver. It was the first time we'd both left him at once, i.e., the first time he'd stayed overnight with anyone other than one of us. He did great. We did great. I would love to go back there in a couple years, with Callum. And also maybe with my parents, because one of the best parts of our trip was the kayaking, and it's going to be a few years before Callum is ready to kayak.








In July we started a nanny share. We still have our same nanny, but through the Facebook group I joined for German American families in Denver, we happened to find a couple who lives five minutes down the road from us, a German woman and an American man, with a daughter 2.5 months younger than Callum. So now she comes here every day and our nanny takes care of both kids. The parents save money, the nanny earns extra money, and the kids get to socialize and learn German. It's a win all around and we've been thrilled with it so far.



In August Torsten went to San Francisco for a work conference and Callum and I tagged along (I just can't resist the nearly-free vacation, not to mention that I hadn't been to San Francisco since I was 11 years old). We had shockingly amazing weather, sunny and in the seventies and fog-free the whole time. I still had to work while I was there (saving up vacation days for the aforementioned blockbuster Europe trip), so we played it very low-key, but I got to see friends and explore the city, and Callum got to admire sea lions and do lots of stroller napping, and we both got to marvel at how incredibly baby-friendly everyone in San Francisco appears to be, from airline employees to homeless people to restaurant hostesses.






Plus we did the regular stuff like, you know, work and school. Which might be more commonplace but is also more time-consuming. It's school that's taking away my ability to blog, I think. It's not the lack of time (although that's part of it); it's more that by the time I finish work, which involves a lot of writing, and then school, which involves even MORE writing, I just don't have the mental energy to write anything else. I have lots of post ideas, and I'm hoping to just get back into the groove of blogging and then maybe it'll come naturally the way it used to. But who knows. It's just a LOT, right now.

Also this summer? My child became a full-fledged little PERSON. He has 16 teeth (only four more to go!). He is undergoing a language explosion and saying tons of words in both English and German. He runs everywhere. He imitates everything we do and say. He's developed an interest in trucks. He needs regular haircuts. He has full-fledged tantrums. He continues to charm everyone he meets. He has not gained any weight, but somehow he just looks so much BIGGER.





Also, we just applied for his very first passport, using this photo. Which slays me every time, because OMG, baby passport photos.



And please don't disillusion me by reminding me that this giant MAN-CHILD is hardly a baby anymore. Thank you.

As a bonus, here's a video of Callum dancing. Something I've been waiting for him to do for AGES, and he finally just started doing it one day on his own, about a month ago. Apparently all it took was a musical toy truck. And as you can see, it was worth the wait. I especially love how he always does it the same way: first the head bob, then the hand-clapping, then the wide-legged walk. I also love how he runs to other side of the room like a gymnast preparing for the final tumbling pass of the floor routine before he starts the walk.




It's been a good summer.

Left arm locked

Yesterday Torsten and I went golfing for the first time in our lives. I mean, it's not like we played 18 holes. But Torsten had a couple of colleagues ask if he wanted to go for a round of golf with them, and he had to decline because he had no idea how to play, and when he was telling me this I told him that I'd always wanted to learn (though I stupidly did not take the beginning golf class my college offered), so we decided to do it. We both like sports and are reasonably athletic, and it might be a good thing work-wise down the line too.

Our next-door neighbor is an avid golfer, so yesterday he took us to the driving range. I don't know how it works in other cities, but Denver has a bunch of public golf courses that don't charge a membership fee or anything, so since our neighbor has a few spare sets of clubs that we were able to borrow, all we had to pay was a couple dollars for a basket of golf balls. The driving range is set out over a pond with distance markers in it, and you hit the balls into the pond, where they float and are later collected.

Turns out golf is hard! Not that I was expecting anything less, but there are just so many different things to think about when you're swinging a club. Overlap grip, knees bent, arms and wrists out and locked in a V formation, head down, eye on the ball, backswing speed, keeping your left arm locked while you swing, holding your lower body still rather than swiveling, following through, turning slightly on your feet but not too much... and a lot more that I've already forgotten. Oh right, the hardest part of all... actually hitting the club against the ball rather than swinging over it entirely (me) or ramming the club into the grass before you get to the ball (Torsten).

However, it was surprisingly fun. We hit way more bad shots than good, but we each got a few good shots in and the feeling is awesome. And by the end of the two hours we were both feeling a lot more confident and hitting a higher ratio of decent shots. We will definitely go back... and once we've gotten OK at driving, we will need to work on chipping, putting, and probably a million other things I have no idea about. There are an awful lot of clubs in a set, after all, and I only know what three of them are used for.

Also, today I'm sore. My arms hurt from stretching and swinging them so many times. And I have blisters on my hands. Torsten has blisters on his hands too, but they're in all different places. That probably means that we're both holding the club totally wrong, but in entirely different ways. Oh well.

Recovery

The surgery went well. The gallbladder was apparently quite inflamed, and quite stuck, so the procedure was a bit more complicated than originally expected, but they were still able to do it laparoscopically and Torsten was able to come home last night. Also, we were both reassured by the poor state of the gallbladder because up until they actually went in there, everyone had been telling us that his problem was "probably" the gallbladder; after they saw it they were able to say that it was "definitely" the gallbladder, and it's always comforting to know that you didn't just let someone cut you open for no reason.

Anyway, we spent a total of 4.5 hours at the hospital, from the part where we checked in to the part where the nurse wheeled him down to the exit to get back in the car. Quickest surgery ever. He's already eaten some food with fat in it (though of course nothing downright greasy) without any pain, so that's a huge improvement. And now he's lying in bed expecting to have all his whims addressed promptly all weekend, so overall I'd say he's pretty happy with his surgical experience.

Thanks for all your well wishes. I'd post a photo of the patient in his hospital gown, but for some reason he doesn't want me to do that.

Gah. (Gall?)

So. Looks like May will be another eventful month for us. After a couple weeks of increasingly severe pain after eating (including one doctor's appointment that he canceled the day of because OF COURSE he started feeling better that day, only to feel much worse again two days later), Torsten ended up in the ER on Monday night with agonizing abdominal pain after a small meal (scrambled eggs, if you're curious). Five hours later and he left with a diagnosis of gallstones, a prescription for pain meds, and a mandate to meet with a surgeon the next day.

We met with the surgeon on Tuesday and he confirmed the diagnosis and said the gallbladder has to come out. Surgery is scheduled for this afternoon. It is a very routine procedure that will be done laparoscopically and should take less than an hour, but it involves general anesthesia and Torsten is being his typical anxious self. He's already informed me that if he dies, I should use part of his life insurance to buy a Porsche (his dream car). I informed him that it didn't seem too practical to spend a large chunk of his life insurance on a car I neither need or want when I'm facing the prospect of single motherhood on a single income. For some reason he wasn't impressed with that response.

Anyway, the surgery is routine and it will all be fine, and from what we hear he will feel a whole lot better as soon as the gallbladder is out (though he actually feels fine currently, as long as he doesn't consume a gram of fat, so he's subsisting on bread, fruit, and nonfat yogurt at the moment). Even he knows that this is really not that big a deal. But still, good thoughts would be appreciated!

What happened in April

So, uh. Looks like I accidentally took the month of April off from blogging. My bad. It was totally not intentional, but you know what really gets in the way of blogging? Grad school. Especially when you use your infrequent one-week breaks from school to travel.

Seriously, school is not quite as life consuming as I was expecting, but the thing that it really eats into is my down time. I work, I spend time with my baby, I spend time with my husband... and the time I had left over, the time for blogging and reading and generally futzing around doing what I wanted? That's my school time now. So. That's a little frustrating, but on the whole I still feel happy and balanced. And I check in on Twitter a lot more than I blog, so I don't feel as disconnected as this month-long radio silence might imply.

Anyway, so. What happened in April? Let's see. There was Easter, which was technically not Callum's first Easter since he was about three months old for the last one, but was the first Easter that we "celebrated" with him. And I put "celebrated" in quotes because our celebration involved a small Easter basket and putting toys he already owns in eggs scattered on our front lawn, and that's it. No brunch, no ham, no egg dye. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it and so did we.



Also in April, we went to New York City. That was awesome. Torsten and I couldn't believe it when we realized it, but I'm pretty sure we hadn't been there since this trip in 2007. In 2008 we went to London and Germany, and on our honeymoon, but I don't think we went to New York. And in 2009 we moved to Denver, i.e., out of driving distance from Manhattan, and we hadn't been back since. So, when we got some airline vouchers due to a problem with a previous flight, we decided to head to New York for a week. (Full photo set here.)



My parents and sister drove up to meet us there for part of the time, and though the weather wasn't awesome (rainy for the first part of the trip, extremely windy for the second part, and pretty chilly throughout), we had a great time and did a lot of playing the tourist: open-top bus tours (brrr), a boat around the island (brrr), and lots and lots of walking. On one day we walked over eight miles. Luckily Callum was a total trooper, sleeping through the night despite sharing a hotel room with us (and it was too small to put his crib in the bathroom or the closet, which is our usual trick), napping in the stroller on the go, and generally in a good mood most of the time.



Also we met Alena (and Luke and Mike!) and Molly (though sadly not Owen or Michael). They were both just so lovely, so totally my people, and I'm already trying to figure out when and how I can get back to New York to see them again. (And you guys, it's really too bad that Alena has a policy against posting photos of Luke's face online, because OMG THAT CHILD. He makes the BEST faces.) Also, Alena and I, along with our babies' pre-naptime fussing, got caught on an Anderson Cooper hidden camera special (Alena describes it here, and you can see the clip here, third video down). All just a typical day in New York, right?




Oh and we went up the Empire State Building at night, speaking of touristy. It was lovely, as it always is, but can I just tell you something? I've never been afraid of heights and I've also never been one of those moms who has horrifying visions of all the irrational harms that could possibly befall her baby. But when we were out on the observation deck of the 86th floor of the Empire State Building and Callum was in my arms near the fencing around the edge? I was terrified. I could clearly picture him squirming out of my arms and thrashing through one of the gaps in the fence and falling. Even just writing about it now is making me feel all nervous and breathless again, just remembering. I KNEW it wasn't going to happen, and yet it feasibly COULD HAVE. See the diamonds in the fence in the picture? He REALLY COULD have fit through that gap if he'd wanted to and OMG, I had to step away from the edge with him, seriously.



Altogether it was a great trip, and so good to see my family, and I really am hoping we'll be able to get back there again in a couple years. But we'll see. In the meantime we have a bunch of other travel planned for this year: I'm going to DC for work in a couple weeks, which will be by far the longest I've ever been away from Callum, but I'll just consider it good prep for the trip Torsten and I are taking to Maine during my summer break, during which my parents will be staying at our house with Callum. I am really, really not excited about the prospect of leaving him, but I am really, really excited about the prospect of a relaxing vacation with my husband.

Callum is a GREAT traveler and honestly, we both feel that traveling with him isn't nearly as stressful as we might have expected, and that he fits really nicely into our trips just as he fits into the rest of our life, but traveling with a baby is just a totally different experience. I'm looking forward to a flight where we can actually take a drink from the beverage cart, for example, since there will not be a baby within grabbing distance. Presuming that we do proceed with that second baby thing at some point, and given schools and work schedules and whatnot, this may be our last opportunity to take a just-us vacation for while. So we will cry when we say goodbye, and Skype with him every day, and be horrified at how much older he is when we get back, but we are also going to enjoy a vacation that is designed purely for relaxation and lobster consumption and spending time with each other, no baby wrangling included.

After Maine, the trips-with-baby resume with a few days in San Francisco at the end of the summer (Torsten has a work conference and Callum and I will be tagging along), a week in North Carolina in the fall, and then the big shebang, the real deal, a 2.5-week international trip with stops in Germany, France, and England in December. So. I always said we wanted to have a well-traveled baby, and it looks like we are sticking to the goal. I have to write a post about flying with a toddler, but this one is already getting massive so I will save that for another day. Hopefully before another month goes by.