What Works for Us: Part IV

Since I was taking my niece and baby to a fireworks show past bedtime on the 4th of July, I knew I would need to be prepared. So besides the lawn chairs and some snacks, I packed a bag with some activities that would keep them occupied and happy while we all waited for the sun to go down. I included a blanket to sit on, some Mr. Potato Head toys, bubbles, glow sticks, and these handy little tubs:

That's just rice...in a large container (with a lid)....& some dollar store scoops and toys.

Amelia loved playing with them! So I brought them out again one morning this week.

She spent a long time scooping the rice in her hands, through the funnel, and onto the patio. I should have remembered to put a blanket underneath her so I could save that rice.

I like that it is slightly less messy than sand, but is still a good sensory experience. She only tried to eat the rice a couple of times. Not bad, right?

Flashback Friday: That Time I Flew My Breastmilk Across the Country

Back when Amelia was fresh and squishy, we moved from Connecticut to Texas. This was no small task. Especially since she was very much still nursing.

 

As I mentioned here, I went back to work for a short while after she was born. Which, as a breastfeeding mama, meant I had to pump. Which, as an overachiever, meant I had a freezer full of extra breastmilk.

After a short self-debate about whether or not to even try to move my surplus across the country (duh, who throws out liquid gold?!), I took on the task of preparing my breastmilk for its first flight. I'll go ahead and file this under Things I Never Imagined Doing in My Life.

Step 1: Research
I actually found people who had done this before and blogged about it with pictures. I know, weird, right? I also got on the TSA and specific airlines' websites to try to nail down their policies on such a thing. It took a little hunting since, apparently, this is not an everyday event.

Step 2: Prepare Milk
I had to buy the perfect cooler. I had to scout local dry ice vendors. I had to research the optimal way to pack it all and keep it frozen. And most importantly, according to the airline guidelines, I had to weigh and label the container. This was a series of unusual events in which, since I didn't (and still don't) own a scale, I had to rig up the trusty Wii Fit to weigh the milk.

 

Then I found myself sitting on the floor in a room full of boxes (of course we had already sold our desk by this time) at the computer typing a document announcing to the world that I was transporting bodily fluids in this blue 'Wheely Cool' cooler.

Microsoft Word kindly asked, "Do you want to save this document?" Well no, I can't imagine needing this document again.

Step 3: The Big Flight
I arrived to the airport a little early anticipating some difficulty transporting luggage, a small baby (with all the small baby accessories needed for traveling), and a cooler of frozen breastmilk across the country by myself. It took quite a while for the perplexed airline check-in lady to A)get over her shock and slight disgruntlement about this unusual situation, B)decide to help me in the cause, C)figure out all the paperwork necessary to get my "dangerous substances" on the flight.

Of course she also had to inspect the package. Which meant I had to unpack and display my frozen breastmilk all over the weigh station at the Continental Airlines check-in desk. All while wearing my baby in the Baby Bjorn.

 

After signing a bunch of forms assuring the airline that I was not transporting anything unsafe, I finally dropped off my luggage and the precious blue cooler and practically ran to the gate. I was the last to board.

Step 4: Arrive AKA wheel milk through airport and try to explain to the person picking you up why you have a cooler full of bodily fluids. Followed by step 5 in which you ask that person if you can store said fluids in their freezer.

So why did I decide to document this a year ago?
Everyone takes pictures of their frozen breastmilk.
I had too much time on my hands.
Sleep deprivation silliness.
I was able to foresee it would be perfect for a Flashback Friday on a blog that didn't yet exist.
It was one of the stranger things I've done in my life, and thus, needed to be documented.

Camera Lessons

My brother's family vacationed at our house for the past week. And we kept busy. We did the zoo, beach, museum, pizza arcade place, boardwalk, swimming, fireworks, and lots of play at the house. It was a great time. And I'd love to show you all the fun, cute, special moments we had. But there's a problem.

See, my brother is a photographer. So he takes pictures of everything with his giant cameras. In fact, people often do double takes when they notice how much camera gear he carries around. I've stopped noticing, really.

So whenever he's around, I think, Oh, I don't need to carry my camera. I'll just focus on Amelia and let him take the pictures. And that's what I do. I didn't take my camera out once during their visit.

Then he goes home and I get ready to do a blog post about all the fun we had. About how sweet and well-behaved my niece is. About how cute it was when the two cousins held hands through the zoo. About how they played Ring Around the Rosie together. And playdough together. And dress-up. And hide-and-seek with glow sticks in my closet. And how Amelia wanted to steal all of her cousins cool toys and jump on her air mattress bed.

Except all I have are random fuzzy cell phone shots.

And I promise myself that next time, I will bring my camera.

The two girls driving an ice cream truck at the pizza place.

Baby Girl trying to stay cool at the zoo.

Amelia hasn't stopped asking for Abby since they left. She loves her cousin.

See, I told you it was a large camera.

And it runs in the family.

Daddy and Amelia found a horse at the candy shop. Little Miss Pink Cheeks was delighted.

Waiting for fireworks.

4th of July fun.

Thankfully my sister-in-law has already learned this hard lesson. You can see her pictures here.

Wordless Wednesday

Please excuse the blog break. We had an awesome visit with this adorable little girl and her parents.

Mia loves her cousin Abby. Apparently the feeling is mutual.

SuperMama

Becoming a mom gave me superpowers. My cape mostly looks like a well-stocked diaper bag, but still...

I have developed a super sense of hearing. I can tell if my baby cries, coughs, or coos from almost any room in my house.

I can cope without much sleep for months.

I can shop, cook, drive, talk, work, and clean (okay, this one doesn't apply often) with minimal brain power while talking to, singing with, soothing, feeding, and thinking about my baby girl.

Then there's the one-handed feats. I can shower with one hand. Dress myself with one hand. Use the restroom with one hand.

I've even maneuvered a public-bathroom-standing-up-nursing-session. On more than one occasion.

Doesn't every Super Mom look like this?

Unfortunately, all these new superpowers have melted other parts of my brain. Like the part that knows how to give myself a pedicure. Because I actually took a few minutes to beautify my toes the other night and it was an epic fail.

My toes look like a 4-year-old painted them.

Complete with red paint smeared over the skin and cuticles. Even spilled nail polish remover. And chipped paint only two days later. It is a sad situation.

Now I know why Wonder Woman wore boots.

16 Months

I'm not sure I could love this little body

 And these little feet

 And this little face

any more than I already do.

Flashback Friday: That Time I Lived Too Close to a Big City

I think I already mentioned I'm a suburb gal. I wrote the following almost exactly a year ago, days before moving across the country. I did not particularly enjoy my location at the time. Not only was I too close to the downtown area, but I was too far north. Where it isn't hot long enough each year to justify central air conditioning. So when it was hot outside, whew, it was an oven inside our little 2nd story apartment in an old house with charming, but not-so-airtight windows.

Sure, there were lots of great things about living there- not the least of which are the memories of bringing home an adorable baby girl. And that cute little coffee shop around the corner that served the best caramel chai lattes.

But I had trouble loving this place from that very first day I rolled up with all my possessions in a big yellow moving truck. And I was robbed within an hour.

June 22, 2010

Reason 394 Why I’m Happy to Move

The room is dark, shades drawn. It has finally cooled down from the insane heat of the day and I can hear the calming whirr of the fan and air conditioner. Baby Girl softly snores next to me in bed, swaddled except for her left arm, which is draped sweetly above her head. It is an exact miniature replica of how I’m positioned, resting, nodding off, almost asleep. Nick quietly opens the door, tiptoes over to the bed, leans down next to me, whispers, “A group of drug dogs is searching the backyard.”