Pumpkin Patchery

This has been a great weekend for Team Pagan.  

I did roughly 800 loads of laundry on Saturday, Jon and I cleaned and ran a bunch of errands, we got to hang out and relax as a family AND we were able to see good friends that we haven't caught up with in months due to super-busy-third-year-med-student-don't-even-think-about-governing-your-own-schedule schedules.  

Three things from this weekend are worth noting:

1. Our son is 11 months old today! 

2. Yesterday marked David's first ride in a wagon (video forthcoming).  For our little boy, life is sweetest outside, in a wagon, with buddy Miranda, being pulled around the block by Uncle Keith. 

3. Today was David's first trip to a pumpkin patch!  Cue pictures!

These are our friends, Wyatt, Ryan and Margie.  They suggested that we get together at the pumpkin patch--a fabulous suggestion.

There was a corn pit!  This was the first time any of us had ever seen one--so neat!

Wyatt showing David how to traverse the corn pit.

David, not as enthusiastic about le corn pit...

"There's corn EVERYWHERE!  Will someone please take me out of here now?!"

Oooh, and then we went on a hay ride!  Second only to the wagon ride, life is pretty sweet sitting on a bale of hay while getting pulled around by a giant tractor.  Plus, Jenn was wearing her most pumpkin patchy shirt.  Like being held by a picnic:)

I know he looks skeptical, but he really did enjoy it.  Lots of "oooh!" ing and pointing at plants and scarecrows and butterflies.

Change of scenery--sitting with dad, mid "ooh."

There was also a hay maze (next to the corn pit)!  Perfect place to explore.

Walking to dad in tiny green cords:)

Practiced some more walking in the grass by the pumpkins.  T-Rex posture.

Step...

Step, step, step!  

I was quick enough to snap this photo, but not quite quick enough to keep the dirt out of his mouth...  He is a little boy.

Ok, I know that two in a row just looks reckless, but he started out by trying to push the wheel barrow, and then discovered that the handles would be perfect for chewing.  Too cute not to photograph.

This place was beautiful.  By the end of the day it had gotten a little muggy, which is why our son looks discontent, but we all had a great time AND we found the perfect pumpkins to grace our porch!

The Walk

Its funny, everyone tells you that when you have children, "everything changes."  Admittedly, I put this in the same column as the wonderful advice of, "get as much sleep as you can now." That is to say, the 'of course' column.  Now, nearly 10 and half months later, I can say that I have absolutely been changed by becoming a Dad.  For example: 

The other day my Dad sent me a song that he said I should listen to as it regarded fatherhood.  The song is called The Walk by Sawyer Brown.  I wasn't able to listen to it that day, until finally this afternoon while in the midst of hanging out with my son that I remembered the email was waiting for us.  So David and I pulled up the song and pressed play.  

The first thing that struck me was: Man I've heard this before.  Turns out, it is a song that my Dad used to play often when I myself was a kid.  I remembered the song well, but had never paid attention to the lyrics. I listened along, and realized how profoundly my life has been changed by my son David.  I noticed motion to my left and looked over at my son: 

Not only was he listening to the music, but he was dancing along.  I want to thank you Dad for sending me this song, it brought back amazing memories of childhood with you.  I greatly enjoyed the walk with you, and look forward to the walk with David everyday.  

As I watched my son dance, its hard to describe exactly what I felt at that moment.   I leaned over, scooped him up, and told him how much I love him.  It was at this point that, out of nowhere, a piece of dust flew up and into my eye.  

Clumsy

Fact: I can last about three days on sub-standard sleep before I begin damaging myself.  


This is a threshold that I suspected in high school and confirmed in college. Now, as I wife and mom, I just try to minimize the damage.


Our poor kiddo has been sick all week (talk about sub-standard sleep--he has been such a trooper), and Jon has to work nights this week for his OB rotation, so we've all been struggling with both quality and quantity of rest.  In the last seven days, I've managed to:

• Slice my finger with a paring knife (this is the first time I've ever cut my fingers in the kitchen, ever);
• Bruise both hips (I'm still trying to figure that one out...  I'm pretty sure there were two separate incidents);
• Whack the outer part of my right elbow on a fire alarm at the pediatrician's office;
• Whack the inner part of my right elbow on something else angular at home (I can't recall what it was);
• Drop the baby monitor on my left foot;
• and the piece de resistance--I very nearly crashed into the crib after tripping over the glider ottoman in the baby's room the other night when I went in to feed him...

Nine years of ballet--I'm convinced I would have broken something by now had I not had that kind of training.

All of this said, I don't think I'll need to wear mittens or use circles of paper with safety pencils at work, I just need to move a little more intentionally.  A tired, hurried Jenn is a clumsy Jenn, but a tired, deliberate Jenn keeps her fingers intact.  

*When I Googled "clumsy" for some inspirado for this post, the first link I stumbled (ha!) upon was a youtube video of Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas.  I watched for one minute and twelve seconds before deciding three things:
1. That's not the kind of clumsy I'm talking about...
2. The song is like a virus and I'll likely be humming the first minute and twelve seconds of it for the rest of the weekend;
3.  I bet she could help it if she too were more deliberate.

Date Night!

I know some of you saw the title of this post and thought of the 2010 comedy with Steve Carell and Tina Fey.  Sorry readers, this is not a movie review--it's an actual review of an actual date night.

That's right!  Date night (this past Saturday)!  One of the few that we've had since the baby was born and one that came right on the heels of the first week of Jon's OB rotation.  A much needed time to decompress and have some fun after a 72 hour work week.


It was glorious.  For three straight hours:

• Jon and I wore our semi-fancies and met our friends at a funky, local restaurant to hear a former colleague and his band perform everything from Dean Martin to Paul Simon to Amy Winehouse.  I know it doesn't sound like a complementary line-up, but it totally worked.  They were really fun to listen to and watch!

• We ate world-famous cheese dip and drank adult beverages.

• I hate to focus on the attire too much, but seriously, it was after 7:00 pm and I was wearing clothing that was both clean (free from baby-related stains) AND that had structure to flatter a figure, not a circus.

Topics of conversation on the way to and from dinner included:

• The potential pros and cons of transferring your consciousness into a robotic life form if future technology were to permit;
• How wild and great that it is that we're married with a precocious child;
• The speed at which an adult can metabolize alcohol;
• How much we love our friends;
• How to locate the best, free parking; 
• How full we were; etc.

I cannot tell you how much we love the date night.  It is such a great investment.  We highly recommend it.

Bagelversary

August 19th is a significant date in the Pagan piazza.  It marks the date of our first date--the safe, mid-day, "let's meet for lunch, how about bagels?" non-date of two high school friends reunited after graduating from college.

Bagelversary.

22 year old Jenn wore a casual red skirt and white T-shirt, so as to look cute, but not like a woman who was interested in pursuing any type of romantic relationship.  She maintained the same, flippy, retro haircut that she had in high school.

22 year old Jon, wore a relaxed pair of jeans and collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up.  He maintained the same spiky and provoked haircut that he had in high school.

22 year old Jenn would never have admitted it, but she thought that 22 year old Jon looked super handsome and that he smelled really good.  They hugged, exchanged pleasantries, ordered food, prayed over food (an act that pleasantly surprised each of them), and then chatted for an hour or so about what they had been up to for the last four years.

And then they parted, agreeing to meet up (Jon, correct me if my memory is failing me) again later that night so that Jenn could attempt to hustle Jon at pool.

They did, in fact, meet up again, but Jenn did not hustle Jon at pool.  Frankly, both Jenn and Jon played terribly, but that's not the point.  The point is, they navigated through the safe, bagel lunch, then dinner, then three games of pool, AND a late night viewing (at Jenn's insistence) of The Royal Tennenbaums--the movie that she had watched multiple times in college and had taken with her overseas to watch when she missed hearing English.

And now we're married.  With a baby:)

Take that, Jenn who attempted to simultaneously date and yet not date 22 year old Jon on the first bagelversary.

Sometimes I think it would be fun to write letters to the Jenn and Jon of five years ago, giving them little glimpses into the future and extending some perspective.  Something with the poetic depth of Conan O'Brian's In the Year 2000 sketches, combined with Rilke's wittiness and comedic timing.

Maybe for another post.

     

The Post With All the Mischief

I have to say, I'm happy to have a child that is active and curious.  


I'd much rather have a busy baby than a baby that didn't like to get into at least a little trouble every now and then.  I used to pray about this sort of thing before David was even born without really knowing what type of behavior his little personality would affect.  Ask and ye shall receive, right?  


Right.  Ten-fold.


Sure, our house is baby proofed, but we're still figuring out how to David-proof it.  


What I have learned in the process is that sometimes it's more fun to jump in the laundry pile and play in it than it is to fold the clothes in it.  Sometimes eating your food and wearing it are equally fun.  Let me illustrate:    

Have you heard that song, Merry Happy?  I'm going to compose a piece inspired by this little boy called, Busy Happy.

Contrary to guidance from the manufacturer, playing under large toys is always more fun.

At any given moment, some part of our house will need to be tidied.  I like to think that our kiddo is just a super-accomplished multi-tasker.

Case in point.

Also, the camera lens....

will always be more interesting than traditional toys.

Fairly sure that my son took to heart all of the dialogue he heard in utero while we watched Oceans 11.  He works quickly and with much charm and stealth.  David Ocean.

The contents of my purse are fair game and will likely end up in his mouth.  Although, last night, I saw that he had placed a piece of sausage in my purse.  Mischief or thoughtful gift?  

Our son is happiest without pants... 

while in motion... 

while exploring the dishwasher before one of us swoops in and snatches him away from it.

I know it sounds cliche, but striking that balance between organized wife and mother and rested/fun wife and mother can be a challenge.  All that said, yes, our house must be tidied.  Yes, there will always be domestic banalities.  But my latest strategy is to reserve the bulk of those for the weekend during the baby's nap time so that we can play.  

Breakfast Noms. Al Fresco, Please.

Recently the South has felt a little swampy.  


I'm talking, walk outside from a moderately air-conditioned building and your glasses fog up, humid.  So when we can, we try to take advantage of the early morning hours, while it's still reasonable outside.  One of our favorite early morning past times?  Breakfast on the back porch, where we can watch the bugs, birds, and squirrels!  Like a lot of little ones we know, I'm convinced our son could stay outside all day if we let him:

According to David, nothing enhances the flavor of a waffle like the fuzz from a felt blanket.

Right hand is for eating, left hand is for counter-balancing.

Moments before I maneuvered the camera away from the waffly clutches of this happy kiddo:)

The Post with All the Pictures

I don't think I need to explain how much this boy likes sitting in his dad's desk chair:

Yesss!!! 

Music appreciation

Another blissful chair moment

Hey dad, check me out!  Wave!

And here is a brief look at June and July happenings:

Always watching

I love the duck bum pants so much, I can't even tell you. 

Best mom impression

My son, the fashionista.  Tim Gunn, you're looking at your new fall line.  He makes the monkey hat work.

On our way to the zoo.  Safari hat.  Ready to see giraffes (AKA, giant Sophies)

Just In Time for Father's Day!

It's official: our son is crawling!

Dear Auntie Em, Thanks for Letting Us Borrow the Bouncer

Repurposing Junk Mail

There is a place in the Pagan Piazza for purchased toys, designed to stimulate our son's mind and physically exercise him.  Then there are the really fun toys:

"Ing"

A glimpse of what goes on between father and son while mom is at work:

Napping 

Striping

Reading

Moving

Resting 

Assisting

Cuting:)

Throw Back Post--A North Carolina Nocturne (In Four Movements)

I've been meaning to transfer the content from our old iWeb blog to this site for a while now.  Today I woke up and decided that I would start the process this morning.  Keep an eye out for "throw back" posts from time to time--a snapshot of the days when Jon and Jenn were younger, childless, in better shape and living in different parts of the country:)  


Here's a post from Wednesday, July 1, 2009:





A North Carolina Nocturne (In Four Movements)

A composition inspired by an evening spent in Charlotte because of a flight delayed by a rogue storm.

Movement One: Le Petit Roche

Jennifer had intended to leave Little Rock on Tuesday at 6:03 PM.  She was scheduled to land in Charlotte at 8:53 PM, where she would board another plane bound for DC, where Jon would pick her up at 11:36 PM. 

Instead, the heavens opened over Little Rock, making it impossible for her to leave before 7:00 PM.  She stood in line to reschedule her connecting flight for an hour (in front of a business man who had had a very challenging day).  She was able to book the earliest flight out of Charlotte the following morning at 6:00 AM.  Since it wasn’t cost effective to rent a car to drive to a hotel, only to sleep for four hours, Jennifer decided that she would stay the night at the Charlotte airport when she arrived.

Minutes later, her plane was given clearance to land.  She boarded it, and landed in Charlotte at 10:25 PM.

Movement Two:  Evening Migration

Jennifer sat in terminal E of the Charlotte airport, resting from the flight and reading.  She had been sneezing, and did not feel well.  Shortly after midnight, a security officer perched on a segway sped around a row of chairs and approached her.  He informed her that she would have to relocate to the check-in area if she intended to stay in the airport, that she could go through security again at 4:00 AM.  So Jennifer complied and requested that the segway officer escort her to the check-in area.  She had no idea the Charlotte airport was so expansive.  

Jennifer’s post-flight speed was no match for segway officer, who would continually speed ahead of her and look back impatiently as she caught up with him.  Together, they migrated to the other side of the airport, like an inch worm—him speeding up in the front, her catching up in the back.  This process took about 10 minutes.  

12:00 AM

Movement Three: Nesting and the Posture of Sleepless Jenns

Jennifer arrived at the check-in area to find dozens of sleepy passengers draped over chairs, sprawled out on the floor, and curled up in corners.  In an attempt to be strategic, Jennifer settled down on the floor near an outlet, a restroom, the arrivals/departures console, and a 24 hour Starbucks.  She was pleased with her spot.

Over the course of the night, Jennifer fought to stay awake.  She changed out of her work clothes into the comfy, draw-string khakis her sister had given her, and the pink t-shirt that she thought gave the illusion of a little more color to her face.  She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair.  All failed attempts to feel fresher and more alert.  

She read. 

She surfed the net.

She let her dying phone charge.

At about 3:00 AM, Jennifer decided that she was not only sleepy, she was exhibiting cold symptoms.  Thankfully, her husband had packed a powerful combination antihistamine/ decongestant in the overnight bag during their last excursion, and the Starbucks offered tea and honey.  

Unable to stay awake any longer, Jennifer built a nest from her belongings, draped her sweater over her carry-on, and attempted to sleep.  While she never actually fell asleep, she did feel better lying down.    

2:30 AM

Movement Four:  Acceptance

At 4:15, Jennifer was awakened by a group of people bemoaning their poorly marked tickets.  No gate number.  Jennifer had been “sleeping” for about 45 minutes.  She could see people lining up to pass through security, so she decided to gather her things and follow suit.  But not before eating a defrosted bagel and taking some Advil.  In a haze, she made the mistake of buying a small bottle of water at Starbucks from the kind woman that sold her tea an hour before.  Upon reaching the security check point, she was asked to either chug the water, or surrender it immediately.  How could she have forgotten so quickly?  No liquids past the check point.

After passing through security, Jennifer shuffled back across the airport to terminal E.  She saw the segway officer drinking a venti caramel frappuccino and talking with his colleagues (also on segways).  She felt short and slow of pace.  She arrived at her gate shortly before 5:00 AM.  She sat at the gate with her eyes closed, waiting to board at 5:33 AM.  At that time, nine other people boarded the plane with her.        

5:00 AM

At this point, acceptance (that she had not had a restful evening) had given way to despair as Jennifer realized that she would still have to go in to work in a couple of hours to wrap up some last-minute, administrative tasks.  The thought was almost enough to evoke tears.  

Although the outside air was about 75 degrees, the cabin of the plane was extremely cold.  Jennifer knew this would be a quick flight, so she drew her knees up and crossed her arms—a go-to move of hers to preserve body heat and stay warm.  She could make it an hour.

She could not make it an hour.

Jennifer rang the call light for the flight attendant, a nice man named Glenn, and asked if he had a blanket on board.  Glenn offered to sell Jennifer a blanket for $7 US dollars.  Jennifer shrieked on the inside, but declined Glenn’s offer and thanked him for his time.  

At 6:50 AM, Jennifer landed in DC – 7 hours and 14 minutes behind schedule.  She had been awake for roughly 24 hours and 15 minutes.  This fact was not betrayed by her appearance, or her expression.

6:50 AM

Fin

Encore

Later that morning, Jennifer was able to take a glorious nap.  She is currently sleepy, and looking forward to going to bed again soon.

*Note to 2009 Jenn from 2011 Jenn--Oh, poor, naive girl.  If only you knew how little sleep you will be getting in the future:)*

In the Wee Small Hours

There are certain things you should never do under certain circumstances; like blogging at 2:30 AM when you don't have all of your faculties about you.  It's akin to someone picking up a phone if they've had too much to drink, or shopping while you're hungry, or driving while agitated.  Or trying to spell "agitated" correctly at 2:30 AM...


So I'm going to go to bed before I wake up in a few hours to discover that I've diapered our baby with hair sculptor or purchased an as-seen-on-tv cat toilet training kit.  Or a German television studio on eBay.