Our Project

Wow. Time flies when you're working. Forgive the long absence, I've been working on our latest project: Progeny 1.0 While the prototype we created was beyond our wildest expectations, we did meet with some seriously inconvenient glitches which were nearly impossible to program out.

• Glitch 1. Acid Reflux which led to glitches 2 & 3


• Glitch 2. Highly interrupted sleep for twelve months followed by moderately interrupted sleep for an additional eleven months


• Glitch 3. Nursing strike at end of fourth month, requiring pumping for the following seven months

These glitches put in for abnormally high man hours and uneven distribution in the work/life balance. --- While it has been the most exhilerating and rewarding project I've ever worked on; I will rip someone's head off if they ask when Progeny 2.0 will commence. Given the manufacturing technicalties faced with 1.0; I am completely comfortable in yielding market share to a competitor (ie another family) and allow them to produce and de-kink version 2.0 I'll even throw them a launching party (aka baby shower).

Sarcasm aside, I'm quite taken with my bundle of tasks and joy. While she presented challenges I never expected to face, she also leapt over milestones in a way I never imagined. She sat up at two months, spoke sign language at nine, walked at eleven and knew all the letters of the alphabet by fifteen. At eighteen months she was reading simple words like 'baby' and 'clap'. -- She mastered potty training in two hours, no joke! And was in cloth underwear from that first day, no accidents day or night. She surprises me by randomly saying words like 'evidently' or 'surreptitiously'...and grins mischeivously as if she knows the astonishment she's causing. Today she turns 23 months old and I'm excited for her birthday next month!

Her name is so fitting: Celeste Aurora
Celeste = Gift from Heaven
Aurora = Brilliance

She's such a precious gift from God. My prayer is that I don't ruin all this raw potential through pampering indulgence or crushing of spirits. That fine balance of enough discipline but not too much. I pray God help me guide and encourage and grow her...and if you ever think of us during your prayers, feel free to lift us up as well!

Reflecting on 2009

I'm sitting in my sister's house...listening to her skilled fingers effortlessly play a mellifluous melody on her treasured grand piano. The notes, rich and golden, fill the air and resonate through house and mind, driving out all the thoughts and stress of the day and rendering one into a peaceful contentment where all hardships seem surmountable; and the morrow holds fresh promise of battles won and heights attained.

It's in this happy ambiance that I reflect on the past year, the joys, the sorrows and the deep glow of gratitude for everything God has given me. I have the most amazing group of friends, the best parents, wonderful siblings and this year we were blessed with the most precious little girl one could ever hope for. Eight pounds and fourteen ounces of healthy pink plumpness made it's ostensive arrival July 22nd. The past five months have grown me in ways I never thought possible... patience (a virtue I never had) has become a daily, even hourly, characteristic, and oddly enough, it comes with comparative ease. Love (another virtue I lacked), now grows unchecked and flows toward not only my daughter, but toward perfect strangers at times. Her presence has also shown me the beauty of family, the deep currents of love that bind us together and the thrill of siblings who find themselves made uncles and aunts. To overflow my cup, I've also beheld my amazing husband take to fatherhood like duck to water. He rushes home to hold his princess, his arms encircle her to sing her to sleep...to comfort a tummy ache...to play...or simply to snuggle. Their eyes light up in mutual anticipation of play time, and even diaper changing is a time of giggles and laughter.

...I hope you dance...

Mason and I danced with our daughter tonight, and it was amazing. Mason had her in a front carrier, facing out. She was bored dangling there, so I walked over and said 'Dance with me'... I held out my hands and she grabbed a finger on each. Then as Mason swayed for her, she and I waltzed around the room. A smile spread over her face...she LOVED it. The smile grew into lovely double dimples...and then...the most precious sound of all...she started laughing. Round and round we danced and golden peals of her bubbling laughter filled the air. Her eyes sparkled and her nose crinkled in glee. It was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever experienced.

Ode to Sleep

I still wake up twice or thrice a night to nurse the precious bundle of pink plumpness which thrills my every day. And while my enthusiasm knows no bounds by day...by night the accumulated effects of three months sleep deprivation take it's toll and I'm no so much lacking enthusiasm, as I am fighting the Herculean battle against fatigue and somnabulism.

As I will myself into consciousness and watch the passing minutes on the clock I often find myself mentally vituperating sleep for his ill treatment of me. These rants usually take the form of poetry and are sometimes quite inspired...or at least (to the feeble wanderings of my mind at 3:00am) seem inspired. Last night (or morning) at 3:40am I decided to jot that night's tirade down...unfortunately not one of my best by a long stretch, but still amusing when read in the light of day:

Oh Morpheus! Thou art a false and fickle lover

When I sought thee naught, thou nightly embraced me

Yet now, as I seek and plead with thee, tis the cover...

of wakeful night, that kisses the lips where thine lips should be!

-

Mine eyes strain and ache for thine succoring touch

Mine fevered brow, longs for thine soothing fingers

These sleepless nights, hold me in their wakeful clutch

And as I think of yester days, thine memory lingers

-

Why hast thou left me?!? O treacherous varlet?

How have I wronged thee, that I should suffer so?

Mine husband sleeps, thou faithless harlot!

Yet restful sleep, mine own eyes do not know.

-

A deluge barely contained

I sit on the sofa with a chubby cherub encircled in my arms. We're taking a small break from the hustle of daily activity and enjoying each other's company as we breathe in the peaceful silence following a gassy crying spell. Light is pouring softly through the french doors burnishing a warm luster on the bamboo floors, and a lovely classical piece by Haydn is soothing both mind and spirit. Suddenly I hear a thunderous applause. What was that?! Another trumpeting roar emerges from the diaper reverberating in my hand. I stare at the tiny angelic cherub in astonishment. Yes, these booming emissaries of aromatic concoction are emanating from the delicate derriere of my child.

You see, these little presents are the only thing she can do all by herself, and so she puts her whole heart into it. She's quite the over-achiever... 'a job worth doing, is worth doing right'...is her motto. So her presents come frequently and abundantly; they are further enriched with aroma-therapy qualities. Once done she gives us a pleased little smile as if to say 'Mummie, Daddy...I worked hard on this, hope you like it'

As I came to terms that my little break was over and I'd have to change her, an aftershock rocked the diaper in my hand and looking down I saw a spot of yellow appear on her little outfit and slowly spread. Ye gods! She outdid herself this time. I rushed to the changing table, but alas, failed to reach it in time. Half way through my flight, the contents of the diaper overflowed. I took off her onesie and surveyed the chaos,... Mt. Vesuvius had nothing on this eruption... it was the MOTHER of all diapers...the matriarch of the Diaper Family ...the example of which all other diapers aspired to follow in fullness and capacity.

Mayhem overflowed out the sides, out the front, out the back....it took seven wet wipes, two wash cloths and a strong check of the gagging reflex to get things under control. Once clean, terror of an encore presentation while in close proximity to the exit channel sent a quavering finger to apply diaper ointment. Calling for a forklift and two construction cranes, I left them in charge of hoisting the soiled diaper and carrying it to the trash, while I washed my hands several times and poured myself a stiff bracer. (okay, I did NOT pour myself a bracer...but the situation certainly called for one)

I had my doubts...

I had my doubts as to the type of mother I'd make. I'm not a naturally sappy person. Most women I know go cooey, sweet and dreamy when they find out they're pregnant. They love pregnancy and write about it melliflously. I forebore from writing, because despite having the easiest pregnancy I ever heard of...I did not enjoy the process. I loved feeling her move...and there the joys of pregnancy began and ended for me. I didn't enjoy giving up all sports and being limited in my workouts. I didn't enjoy the culinary restrictions...I certainly didn't enjoy window shopping and seeing my belly's reflection five minutes before the rest of my person walked into view. I especially did not enjoy the nightly process of arranging a pregnancy pillow around my body, then a pregnancy wedge under my tummy, adjusting the comforter so it propped said pillows and kept them from shifting, then turning off the light, some post-light corrective adjustments, then fell asleep until the bladder woke me up. Extracting myself from the carefully arranged tuckings of pillows and blankets was like trying to escape the death grip of Downy's Snuggle Bear lair... as I finally emerged from the tangle of sheets and blankets I stumbled gracelessly to the loo. I returned a minute later and tried to climb into the middle of the disarrayed pillow 'nest'...but it was never quite as comfortable as the first part of the night. Inevitably, at some point, I'd feel like rolling over and laying on my right side...but the curvature of the pillow held me in place and I'd flail helplessly like an overturned turtle, trying to flip itself right side up again.

While inwardly rueing the minor inconveniences of pregnancy I found myself wondering how I would deal with motherhood. How would I tolerate the interrupted sleep? The mediocre tasks, the diapers, burpings, spit-ups? I had my doubts...strong ones. Perhaps I'm not loving enough to have a child. Perhaps I need an extra dose of sweetness.

In the three and a half weeks since her birth I can honestly say babies are even more work than I imagined them to be...(and I imagined quite a bit of work)...but I can also say, from the moment of her birth, I was filled with more love than I ever thought possible. And while sleep deprivation is as fatiguing as it sounds... one gassy smile from your pudgey, sleepy cherub melts you into a puddle and you gaze at her in wonder long after she's dozed back to sleep... you could be catching your own zzz's but you don't, because there is something magical about the warm flush of her chubby cheek, and the whisper of her hushed breath. And as dawn strokes the downy golden hair on her head, you're convinced God gave you an angel on loan.

Ode to the Lady in the BMW

I sit at the light, on my drive in to work...
The ‘right on red’ lane, just hit a quirk

Three cars have gone, but several remain ...
Stuck far behind, because one does not gain.

Why isn’t she moving? I’m running late…
And though we can go, we all have to wait.

While the lady in the posh silver car,
Applies fresh lip gloss from a nice little jar.

I honk my horn, but she is oblivious...
Wrapped in a lifestyle rich and lascivious.

Applying mascara, calm and unheeding…
As we all roll our eyes, at the lack of her breeding.

I lay on my horn and at last she is spurred,
but she makes the turn, at a crawl that’s absurd.

I pass her and, while driving, perceive
A hard bitter face that does make me grieve.

Sour-looking lady, in the BMW…
what, in your decadence, can possibly trouble you??