Baby Mozart!

I may appear to be a little nervous before my star debut...but, it's all just an act. I am very confident in my performance abilities.

Plinka plink a plink!

What do you think?! Piano prodigy?!

Asher's Adoption Day

August 15th was a very special day for me and my family. It was my "adoption day." Mommy, Daddy & me, my grandparents, aunt, uncle, and a few great grandparents, all got up very early to go to a big building downtown called the courthouse. I was a very happy boy that morning when I woke up.

Here I am...all dressed up. I look a little unsure of what was going to happen, but they told me of all the things that happen at the courthouse, these sorts of preceedings are the best!

Here we are in the courtroom. That's my Great Omi holding me & there's Great Opi next to us!

Here is our whole "support team!" They got to sit in the jury box!

Then, it was time to get official. We got to sit at this big wooden table. I liked to bang on it. Mommy & Daddy had to do something funny where they held their hand up & swore. But not bad swear....

Here is Mommy & Daddy's attorney. I may be small, but I already have a legal team! He asked Daddy & then Mommy the same questions, but they both promised to love and care for me always!

Then the Judge told us a story. She said she is an adoptive mommy, too, and she always enjoys being a part of these finalizations. She even had to stop talking a few times because I think she was going to cry...but they were happy tears. She said some official stuff, and pronounced me by my officially legal name and said that my Mommy & Daddy would be my parents forever!

Ahh...but who could resist?!

Take Asher Out to the Ballgame!

3 Little Words

If I were to write Asher's daily caretaker a message for tomorrow, it would only contain three little words.

MASSIVE GREEN POO

I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be an interesting day.

He just tried peas for the first time tonight and seems to like them!

A Photo Update from Asher

My Mommy has been really busy lately, so I thought I'd give you an update in pictures. I just turned 5 months old yesterday, but these pictures were when I was 4 months old! ENJOY!

*GULP* Looks like I swallowed a bug.

This is me in my Baby Pumas from my Uncle Jeff. He loves shoes.

Look at me & try not to smile. Do it. Just try!

This is me & Aunt Ash. We are just smiley people.

This is me & Mommy. Do you like our "apple cheeks?"

Who put a burp rag on my head?!

Hello? Who is it?!

See how I like to hold onto things?

Do I look like a big boy attempting to sit up wth my Boppy?

Blowing bubbles in the backyard with Mommy...

Look at my silly doggy, Sadie!

Whoa! Where'd I go again?!

We interrupt this blog...

Dear Faithful Blog Readers:

You may have been wondering what we've been up to lately & where we've been. Aside from my quick little "Tuck & Roll" update, I figured I need to fill you in on all the excitement (?) that has happened in the past 3 weeks.

On the 10th, Asher went to see his pediatrician for his 4 month checkup. Our boy had a little cough, but the Dr. listened to him and decided he sounded clear, and so it was probably something viral that we'd have to wait out. Asher jabbered the entire time, and Dr. A even noted what a talkative little fellow he is! Our lil man weighed in at 16.5 lbs & is now 24 1/8 inches tall (or short). He is in the 75th percentile for weight, but only the 10th percentile for height. We also got the go-ahead to try solid foods, so he has tried rice cereal, fresh pears, fresh banana & baby bananas & sweet potatoes. So far Asher hasn't met a food he doesn't like!

That evening after our Dr. appointment, we had plans to have our dear friends Erin & Justin over for some frozen lemonade pie. There had been lots of rain, and they were stopping by for their pie before heading up to Iowa City to do some shopping and meet up with some friends. While they visited, they got word that the restaurant they were to be meeting their friends at was taking on water. Shortly after that, Jake received a phone call alerting him that his Army National Guard unit was being activated for flood duty. He was to report the next morning.

The next morning, Wednesday, Jake left. We had no timetable and did not know where he would be going...just that he would be. He took two uniforms, two pairs of boots, and two pairs of "civies." I hoped he'd be back by the weekend to go to a wedding with me.

On Thursday I woke up feeling even worse than what I had been feeling. I had a cough, too, but figured I had whatever virus Asher had. Needless to say, at work that morning I was PRAYING there was something wrong with me because I felt completely miserable. I got a Dr. appointment for myself at 11 AM & lo and behold he diagnosed me with bronchitis and an ear infection. He sent me away with a script for antibiotics and I left to get it filled and pick up some gatorade, orange juice, chicken soup, Mucinex, and chocolate caramel ice cream (hey...a girl has to make herself feel better, right!?) I went home and crashed until 5 PM. Sometime during the day, my dad and brother stopped over to mow our lawn. That evening Asher was a trooper & let me be lazy and he napped, too. At some point that evening, we had a massive storm. And by massive I mean sheets of rain, booming thunder, crashing lightning, flash flooding, etc. Essentially, at 12:30 AM, I went to check the basement and walked into a sopping pool of water. Normally, we just turn on a wet/dry vac and we get the water draining through a hose outside (as our house doesn't have a sump pump). There was so much water and the hose was so long that I couldn't get it all coordinated by myself. I needed two people. At midnight, it was just me and the baby. I sucked it up, and called my dad. Asked him if I was doing something wrong...asked him how to start the suction. I said OK & hung up. I tried it. It didn't work. In tears, I called my dad back again, explained that it wasn't working, and asked for his help. He said he was on his way (later, I found out from my mom that he was already dressed & waiting for a second phone call....) He helped me rig up the hose and get the water suctioned out to the street (we had to do two dumps of the 18 gallon shop vac before we could begin sucking up the incoming water).

And so began the marathon pumping of water. We've had some water issues in our basement previously, but never have had the problem for as long as we did this time. There is a small hole in the floor where fresh ground water seeps up into, and this is where the majority of our water problem is. The only way I could figure out to keep the water from spreading all over the floor was to keep the wet/dry vac on with the hose in the hole while I went to work/slept, etc. The vacuum was running continuously from 12:30 AM Thursday-sometime around lunch on Monday when it died. Seriously.

My sister, brother, & dad came over while I was still at work and helped deal with the water. We had a portable sump pump on loan from a friend, but it couldn't run continuously. My mother in law brought over her wet/dry vac and canceled her afternoon/evening patients to help with the efforts. My mom picked Asher up from the sitter's house so that I could devote myself to the basement and other house projects. I don't know WHAT I would have done without family in this situation. Here I am, single mom'ing it, sicker than sick, and trying to battle a flood in my basement. Not ideal.

I wish I could say "I'm an amazing military wife who just pulls up the bootstraps when duty calls & does it!"...but I'm not. I fully admit I'm weak. I'm pretty helpless sometimes. I occassionally suck at life. I don't even know how to start the lawn mower, let alone mow my own grass. And so, again, major kudos to my mom, dad, mother in law, sister & brother who totally pitched in when it was needed. I cannot fully express to them how much their help meant, but it meant a lot.

Dad and brother spent Monday night on the couch in the basement, taking turns suctioning water out of the hole every 5, 7, 8, 10 minutes. They timed the increments as they began getting longer and longer. D thought it was great because he got to hang out in the "Man Cave" with Jake's big screen TV, video games, and movies, plus a little Cherry Pepsi. It was heaven for a 13 year old boy! D continued with the suctioning while I went to work, and my dad took a half day to come "assist" (by napping on the couch!) :) They attempted to rig up a timer system, but there issues with that as well...Eventually on Tuesday, the water had gone down enough and wasn't filling up so fast. They were able to create a way for the water to be routed to a floor drain once/if it got high enough to overflow the hole. It makes me tear up just knowing that they engineered this little maneuver all themselves. Finally, a week later, the water had stopped coming in. Again, thank you to the family members who helped me out...I am so not deserving of the help, but am forever appreciative!

Meanwhile, Jake was stationed in Cedar Rapids on flood duty. The city was beyond sandbagging, and no matter where you are in the US, you've probably heard/seen stories/photos of the damage done by flood waters in CR. Jake's unit was tasked with evacuating patients from the hospital, security checkpoints, general security with CR PD, etc. 6 days after he left for flood duty, he was informed that he would be on federal orders for 21 more days, which would take us through July 6th. The tought of being a single parent terrifies me, even knowing it just for a limited time. There is no one to "pass off" to when the baby pukes all over you. There is no one to take over when you can't stand one more moment of the whining. There is no one to assist with bathtime in the morning as you're trying to make it out the door on time each day. It made me miss my husband so very much.

Luckily, his duty was cut short. He was able to return home on Saturday, 10 days after leaving, to resume life as usual. We had plans to meet up with friends in Chicago that weekend, and Jake was able to meet us there on Saturday & join in the festivities! Now, we're attempting to get back into our routine...life as usual! Here are some shots our friend Dianne took of our blue eyed boy with her amazing camera!

Tuck & Roll!

Yesterday we were doing tummy time after the sitter's & work & Asher usually does this little face plant/swim-type move shortly after he tires of keeping his head up.

Yesterday, though, he was all "I'm Mr. Strong Arms - see me do a yoga move here!" and then when he was tired of that, he decided to TUCK & ROLL onto his back!

HOOOOORAYYY!!! We were so excited to watch him do it!

And then just for good measure, we put him back on his tummy to see if he could do it again, and he did!

YEAH! Not just a whim!

3 Years Ago...

Today is a day to remember.

Today is a day to rejoice.

Today is a day to be proud.

3 years ago today, my husband returned HOME from the war.

This is where, everytime I say it, think it, write it...I let out this breath that I never even knew I was holding in.

He was gone for 16 months. The first 16 months of our married life. The "newlywed" part of our marriage was spent thousands of miles apart. He lived in rough conditions in Jalalabad, Afghanistan. I graduated from college, had kidney surgery, moved into my first apartment, got my first post-grad job, and bought, closed, and moved into our first house....all while he was away. What he did....well...I can look into his eyes and sense some of the things he felt and saw and heard and did, but I can never truly know those things. My struggles seem small in comparison to what he went through. He would tell you he was just doing his job. He would.

I am so proud of my husband, but that doesn't mean I'd ever want him to go back "over there" again. I wouldn't want anyone or their loved ones to go back "over there" if I could help it. No matter how big, strong, tough, ready, trained, prepared you are, you will come back a different, changed person. Maybe in some ways good. Maybe in some ways bad. Mostly, just different.

There are days when I grieve the loss of the person he used to be. Days when I grieve the loss of the person I used to be. One of the tragedies of war is that each person affected by it is forever changed. We can't go back to who we used to be. We cannot erase the fact that we are no longer naive. We cannot will those terrorists to unfly their planes into the World Trade Center. I sometimes wish I could. But other days I am at peace, knowing that the reasons are beyond my comprehension as to why these things happen in our world.

I was certain that when my husband returned that all my worries were gone. I was sure that things would go back to "normal." After trauma like war, though, there is a "new normal." There would be days when just making a thoughtless trip to the grocery store was too much for my husband. There was the time when the popping fireworks, heard through the insulated walls of our house, made him jump, and then laugh with relief when he realized it was just a celebration after a local baseball game. That "normalcy" I was seeking and expecting never came. That big bandaid that would fix everything when he came home doesn't really happen.

He and I both still have hurts. I'm sure many of the guys he served with lay awake at night, jump at loud noises, fly off the handle a little easier, are less patient with family members whom they love dearly. But can you blame them?! They've experienced some terrible things...just like countless generations of soldiers before them.

Sad that this continues...sad that each generation believes they are fighting so that the next won't have to, and yet the vicious cycle rages on.

Above all, though, this is a day to remember. A day to rejoice, and be proud and have my chest swell with relief that my husband is HOME. And a day to recollect on all those who proudly fought, but are already Home for eternity.

Old & Busted

My dear, sweet husband plays in a recreational flag football league. He is 28 years old, and I'd venture to guess the average age of the guys is 32. That certainly isn't old, but they sure know how to get themselves busted....especially my husband.

He has played in past seasons, and they've all been outdoors at local parks. This season they played at the bubble, which has this fabulously coarse, scratchy astro-turf-type stuff. Perfect to tear up your elbows and knees when they go sliding and rolling across it's terrible surface. He's gotten plenty of turf-rash, which turns into this pus-covered, scab-resistant mess. UCK.

There is always the requisite twisted knee, sprained ankle, and bumps and bruises that can't be avoided (even if it is flag football and not tackle). It's always fun to watch, too, but I cringe everytime he's "in on the action," praying he won't get hurt. His daily career sorta depends on his physical well-being, you know?

Anyway, last Sunday was the final game of the season...a tournament. He was to play 2 or 3 games. I went off to Mass, telling him, "If you get yourself busted, I am going to be so pissed." As I'm exiting the church that day, I see my husband has parked his car and is making his way very gingerly toward me. He is walking like he got kicked in the junk.

Me, being the ever-so-concerned wife says, "What'd you do now? Get kicked in the junk?"
"No," he says, "I hurt my ankle.
Me: Great.....

I know I sound like an evil wife. So, from this point on, instead of being Me, or Em in the conversation, we will replace the "M" with a "W" which will stand for "Evil Wife" because I so was on Sunday.

So, we both went home, and all day he whined and complained (like most men do when they have a paper cut or a bump on the head). I just chalked it up to him being a baby, and I made mean, condescending comments to him all day. See, I told you I am an Evil Wife.

Finally, after a few hours, he just kept sighing. I could hardly take the whining and sighing anymore, so he called his mom who is a nurse. He explained his symptoms to her and she suggested we go to the ER. UGH.

I went downstairs and brought up crutches from a past losing battle that my husband had. I huffed as I plopped them down in front of him and he replies, "I'm not using those things!" EW says: "If you are broken enough to go the ER, you are USING the crutches!" "Yes, ma'am..." he said, slightly trembling... :)

We've had some bad experiences at the ER...things like going in and complaining that I have kidney pain, they run me through plenty of tests, the tech says "Oh, you'll be able to get an answer about this..." all the while I'm KNOWING for CERTAIN that I have a kidney stone, and then 3 hours later, the Doc comes back in and says, "You have kidney pain."

Uhhhh....no kidding. That's what I told you 3 hours ago. I came in and told you I had kidney pain. And now you're telling me that what's wrong with me is that I have kidney pain?! You're a quack!

Needless to say, I didn't want a repeat performance of THAT, especially with a 4 month old baby along for the ride. So, we went to another hospital that promises that you will be seen within 30 minutes.

We were seen very promptly, everyone was courteous and caring, and Jake was taken back to x-ray quickly and treated much nicer than I had been treating him all day. They cooed and fawned over Asher and my husband, despite me being a total EW, was in a relatively good mood (I think he relished the attention).

Soon the Dr. (a non-quack) came back and told him the good news and the bad news (very dramatic that there is always a little of column a and column b). The good news is that he was going to be OK, the bad news is that he had a chip fracture.

I felt like a jerk. A really mean, awful Evil Wife at that point. All day I had been making jabs at him, about what a big, whiney baby he had been....but here there was actually a reason for his sighing and whining. See, I told you...Evil Wife.

I sincerely apologized to him. He apologized back for being so whiney. We gathered some scripts, an ice pack, a little support cast, some paperwork, the crutches, a Dr.'s note for work, the baby, the carseat, the diaper bag, Jake's other shoe, and waddled out of the hospital. As we were walking out, he thanked me for taking him to the ER. I again apologized for being such an EW. He said it was OK. We were back to marital bliss.

My poor old and busted husband....

Leave a little love...

I have this fabulous little site meter that allows me to see statistics about my blog...where my visitors hail from (at least when they're checking my site), how long they stay, whether they came over from someone else's blog or if they just typed in my address, etc.

Today someone from my hometown has been visiting for over an hour! Hopefully they've found lots of insightful and occasionally hilarious stories...but there have been no comments left for me. :( Boo-hoo.

So, in an attempt to not only inflate my self-esteem a little bit, but to also hedge my curiousness, will those of you who visit regularly or have merely happened upon my blog, leave me some comment love so I know who is "out there" reading? This also helps me to get to your fabulous blogs and possibly add you to my blog roll.

Tell me who you are, why you like to visit, and how often you've been coming (if you can remember?!) Thanks!

Word to the Wise, from the Unwise.

Do not put baby on your shoulders like he is a "big boy."

He will barf in your hair & you will think your husband is joking, when he clearly is not.

This message is brought to you by Similac Sensitive formula, Asher's upchuck, and my second shower of the day.

All the things he does.

Well, our boy is now 3 months old...soon to be 4. He is learning and growing every day!

Just this morning when I picked him up I thought "Oooh...heavier over night?!" We go back to the Dr. on June 10th, but I'm guessing our little man is not so little anymore and weighing in at 15+ pounds! They grow so fast!

He is so much more of a happy baby these days. Once we got through the colic stage (oy vey....that could make a person never want more than one!) we were pleasantly surprised to find our child was NOT posessed and actually DID have a sparkling personality and was quite hilarious. Now we get so many compliments on how happy and well behaved he is. But of course!
We haven't seen him roll yet, but he does get his legs and arms a'moving when he's excited. He reacts to videos like Baby Einstein and TV programs like Barney & Teletubbies (of course Daddy hates this). He "talks" and coos and laughs and screams...and it's so funny. He likes to blow bubbles and drool and do "raspberries" with his tongue. He's starting to figure out how to bring his arms to the center and put his hands into his mouth...but we're not teething yet (thank goodness!) And how could I almost forget to tell you that we are sucessfully sleeping through the night now!?

He is a very strong boy and likes to "stand" up on your lap when you hold him that way. He likes to look around and smile, especially at people and animals. He thinks Sadie, Husker & Baron are the funniest creatures and they certainly think he's pretty fun to lick and smell, too.

This past month we took a trip to Minnesota (Asher's first long car ride) and went swimming for the first time (he dug it for about 10 minutes and then we were done). He has quite an extensive social calendar sometimes, so we are glad that this long holiday weekend we have NO plans and can just spend some time relaxing and playing together (hopefully outside if this Iowa weather will cooperate!?)

And, now, without further yammering, I present, the latest pictures of our great bambino.

Better than a wakeup call!

Whoa! An alien bug baby!
$$BLING BLING$$

My boys at Mall of America

Happy 1st Mother's/Grandmother's Day!

Love this outfit...

What's up?

Oops! Where'd I go?!

Me & Papa Bear at the Uncle D's baseball game.

Aunt Ash is my personal assistant.

Baseball baby!

I'm sleepy now....

Daddy/Baby Totem Pole

Oops...Mommy picked up swim diapers & didn't realize they were PINK DORA DIAPERS!

My first time swimming! Check out my trunks...

Sick of this cold weather. It's MAY!

I'm a happy little garden gnome!