the story behind the story

It is incredibly FREEING to have that little secret out in the open.  Writing anything for the past couple of months has been so weird - with so much of what I've been experiencing colored by the fact that we're going to have another baby.  ANOTHER BABY.  I will now tell you some of the other fun details that I left off previously:


1. We found out we were pregnant two days into our GRAND SUMMER FIVE STATE 25-DAY ROAD TRIP EXTRAVAGANZA.  There was me, a test I'd just thrown into my bag for kicks, and the funny feeling I had waking up that morning.  I figured I'd just take the test... as a test.  For the future.  Because we'd decided that we were going to get started on Alice's future sibling.  In a million years, I wasn't expecting a positive test.  Let alone, a test that showed its results not in three minutes, but THREE SECONDS.  My first reaction?  I laughed.  I just couldn't believe it.

And neither could Chip, but this time around, he didn't make me take an additional five tests--- just to make sure, just in case.


2. I have been through every shade of opinion and worry about Alice as Big Sister.  She is going to be amazing, I know this.  But my worries have been mostly centered on her COMPLETE HORROR over finding me holding another baby.  In this case, it was her baby cousin Carter while we were visiting the Little Brother in Utah.  Alice howled, just howled - and then literally begged me to give the baby back.  I don't think that even early pregnancy symptoms could outweigh the overwhelming desire I had to vomit right there on the spot, feeling like I was betraying this sweet little Bean-girl.  But she has been full of surprises - and as we've talked to her about the joys (and the realities) of having a sibling, she has somehow come around.  And when we actually told her the other day that she was going to have a baby brother or sister, she was excited.  Truly excited.

Let's not discuss the fact that so far she seems to see this future sibling as some kind of a pet--- and has actually asked for a "little cage, like for a hamster, to put him in".  Which, also to point out: she has made clear that she will only accept a baby brother.  There is no discussion or even glimmer of a possibility of a sister, just brother.  So.


3.  I'm due March 20.


4. I have been sick and queasy and exhausted for weeks now, but I am feeling the first inklings of Second Trimester Return to Normalcy.


5. And last, but most certainly not least: thank you all for your wonderful well-wishes and sweet notes of confidence.  There is a lot more to say about my worries and hopes for this little tadpole baby.  And rest assured, I'm going to talk your ear off about all of it.  Because dude: BABY.  But speaking of which, so far the only name that has stuck, relatively speaking, is Polly.  There's this song that Alice loves to listen to from the Bare Naked Ladies' album for kids, called Pollywog in a Bog.  And, well...  when we saw that first ultrasound, with P's arms wiggling there by his head, it just stuck.  And yes, I said HE, even though we have no concrete idea, and won't know until late October, but I have a feeling, and so does Alice...

what if

What if it turns out to be the most expensive thing we have ever done?

What if we don't have enough money?

What if we are unprepared?

What if I get really sick?

What if Chip gets really sick?

What if I can't do it?

What if everything that's happened, up to this point, is a fluke?

What if it just breaks Alice, like right in half?

What if we fight all the time?

What if there is heart trouble or brain trouble or some kind of physical cataclysm?

What if there is mental trouble or pharmaceuticals or constant doctor's visits?

What if there is heartbreak and sadness, loss and grief of a kind that weights us down until we can't breathe?

What if we unbalance the scales?

What if we break the surface of this beautiful life we've built and it's terrible--- just terrible?

What if we are absolutely miserable?

And what if it works? What if it's a bliss that can't come in any other way than through the tempering strength of pain? What if everything else is true: the misery and worry and heartbreak and destruction--- and what if there, under the surface of all that darkness lies the gift of the life we are meant to have; that in the crucible of this experience, we find something we didn't know we were ever missing?

Are you ready for this ride?

a theme of oatmeal

I've been eating a lot of it lately.  Every morning, in fact: a warm bowl of oatmeal with toast.  At first it was because we had a big box of instant packets in the pantry.  Wanting to be thrifty, I figured I'd just eat the stuff and save on cereal.

After a while, I developed a taste for it.

Now I've moved on to a big drum of the stuff nestled in the lower cabinet lazy susan.

So oatmeal cookies seemed like the right back to school fall cookie recipe.  Karen tells me that it's a new tradition at their house: a new cookie for the new school year.

Before we get to the recipe, I'll tell you that I'm something of an oatmeal cookie aficionado.  Picky, even.  Not so crunchy as to be crumbly - but not so soft that they bend in half when held in your hand.  I like cinnamon in them, and raisins.  Which is weird, because I don't normally like anything lumpy in bread or cookies or ice cream (raisins, nuts, candy that doesn't dissolve like skittles or gummy bears - totally unacceptable).  But raisins in oatmeal cookies?  Yes, yes, and yes.

I also don't like chocolate chips in oatmeal cookies.  I have reasons: namely that the chocolate seems to make it not an oatmeal cookie, somehow.  But that's neither here nor there, because this recipe has lots and lots of room for interpretation.

But I think that one word is true, no matter what you choose to add or delete: DELICIOUS.




Whimsy's Oatmeal Cookies

2 sticks softened butter (regular butter, not unsalted - and soft, NOT MELTED)
1 1/2 cups packed golden brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 large eggs
2 cups regular oats (not quick)
1 3/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup raisins

(alternate additions: 1 cup raisins, 1 cup chopped nuts, 1 cup chocolate chips, 1 cup shredded coconut)


Preheat oven to 350.  In large bowl of electric mixer, beat butter, brown sugar, and vanilla until light and fluffy (about 1 minute).  Add eggs and mix until thoroughly incorporated.  Add oats, flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt.

Mix on low speed until blended.  Add optional ingredients at this time.  I always add raisins, and have occasionally also put in the coconut--- pretty delicious.  Mix on medium speed until incorporated.

Drop batter by heaping teaspoons 1 1/2 inches apart on baking sheet.  Bake for 10-13 minutes or until golden brown.  Mine usually take 11 minutes.  Cookies will feel soft but will firm up as they cool.  Let stand on baking sheets for a few minutes before transferring to racks to cool.  Makes about 45 cookies.


Happy September!

a brief note of explanation

I am interrupting this week of 'Ber Love for an underlining note about my displeasure with late July/August.

It started when we were on the Epic Summer Trek through Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, and Colorado.  First there was the obvious discomfort from all that traveling: the constant pressing drag of the unpack / sleep / repack / drive long tedious distances in a car with a three-year-old who has developed the fine art of being entertained by something for exactly three minutes before insisting for sumfing else, sumfing else please.  On top of this hot mess was the day leading up to leaving for the trip, which should have been full of laundry and packing.  Instead, there was an emergency run to Alice's doctor and the fantastically-timed diagnosis of walking pneumonia (both lungs, y'all).  When the doc handed me the prescriptions for the nebulizer treatment and the antibiotic, I should have noticed her shaking hand.  Shaking because when I got those prescriptions filled, our bill was in the TRIPLE DIGITS.  After insurance.  I am convinced, to this day, that that antibiotic was made with melted gold and the nebulizer could only have been manufactured using bits of ACTUAL DIAMONDS, because seriously---DUDE.

By the time we got to my parents' place we were happy to sort of melt into the woodwork.  But that was not to be, because we got a call from Amanda who had bad news.  She and her six-year-old Zander were looking in on the cats while we were gone, and because of all the time we'd spent doing a doctor visit and having prescriptions filled (paid by SIGNING OVER OUR HOUSE)--- we hadn't had a chance to give Amanda an actual key.  To the house.  But not to worry!  Of course!  Brilliant Whimsy just said HERE IS THE GARAGE DOOR CODE!  YOU CAN GET IN SO EASILY!  NO KEY NEEDED!  

Amanda's phone call was along the lines of, Um--- I can't get into your house.  I've tried the garage code about five times and it doesn't seem to be working.

And of course, no one has a key to our house.  Not a soul.

There was some discussion of overnighting a garage door opener to Amanda, or even the key on Chip's key ring.  That option was denied because it was Friday night and nothing was open, and even in the best of circumstances it would have been Monday before she'd get the package - leaving the cats without water and food refilled in six days.  

We ended up calling a locksmith, who met Amanda at the house Saturday morning and then proceeded to explain that he would be charging us over $300 to drill through our locks and get inside.

Um.

Chip talked him down to half that and then we just hung up the phone and gulped.

Meanwhile, Amanda watched him drill through our deadbolt, rendering it unusable.  She made plans to have her husband come over later to install a new deadbolt.  You know, so no one else could get inside the house.

This is a really long story to illustrate something along the lines of how tired we were of those kinds of surprises.  But there were several more in store.

Ten minutes inside Arches National Park in Moab, Utah, dear Alice Bean threw up all over the backseat of the car.  I didn't know it could come out of a person's nose like that.  That one ended in a four-hour detour of washing every article of clothing, fabric, and upholstery in our hotel parking lot.

There was the time that I got sick, also in Moab--- my body had the good taste to wait until very late at night, when Alice was already asleep in our bathroom, of all places.  I had the pleasure of attempting to deal with my situation a little more discreetly.  Inside the public hotel bathroom, downstairs.  AWESOME.

Then there was the small matter of Chip getting laid off when we were only one day from returning home.

A week later, our house presented us with a belated welcome home present: a broken hot water heater.  Replacing it, the only option.  The plumber quoted us $1,300.  Luckily, our dear friends Kate and Abram came through (yet again) with the far cheaper solution of doing it ourselves--- we bought the water heater, and Abram and Chip spent that Saturday installing it.  We were only out hot water for about 36 hours, which left me feeling immensely grateful for Modern Conveniences and Very Good Friends.

Since then, Chip has found a new job and things have normalized a little--- but we have had to buy a new lawn motor, replace a light fixture, install new shelves in Alice's room, and buy a replacement laptop for Chip.

Then, last night we got locked out of our house.  Not because of a broken garage door code - but because of a broken door knob, the one leading from the inside of the garage to the house.  Try as we might, we couldn't get it unstuck.  We finally got back inside thanks to some masterful window climbing by yours truly (helped by Chip's sturdy back).  

Later, standing in line at Home Depot as we purchased a new door knob fixture thingie (technical term), Chip rolled his eyes as I reminded him that August hadn't killed us.

Yet.



Truth is, somewhere inside all this misery is humor.  I think it's pretty funny, how everything sort of just happens at once like that.  At least in my life, for some reason, the misery is always dumped together in one moldy heap.  I think it's that way because it forces me to keep moving through it, to never stop and fully digest one part of it.  If I hold on to a single bad thing for too long, it will poison me from the inside out.  But the Revolving Door of Misery has this Zen gist to it--- that things come and go, ebb and flow, even in darkness.  August didn't kill me.  And I have a sneaking suspicion that the cooling days of September have something really great in store.
 

    

only the highest quality discussions here today

I write to you as Chip luxuriates on our bed, watching Big Trouble in Little China.  Doing such a thing (me writing as he watches) has me thinking about the August Television Doldrums.  Does anyone else feel this way about now?  When you don't think you can stand another round of flipping channels just hoping for something interesting, something funny, something even mildly entertaining?  When you've exhausted your entire library of DVD's three times over and simply don't want to contemplate how it can be to access something like 100+ television channels and THERE IS STILL NOTHING TO WATCH.

Lately, we've been watching The Great Food Truck Race on the Food Network.  It's a bright spot in the late August yuck; as is Project Runway, but in that I'm just speaking for myself.  When Chip sees it's on, his eyes roll into the back of his head and it's possible he goes into a walking coma.

But September, dear September brings with it NEW TELEVISION CONTENT.  Or, at least the promise of it.  Somehow I can stand waiting until the end of the month, just knowing that there will be something new to watch.

Not to say that we live for television, but there is something so necessarily restful about turning on the Box in the evening and just forgetting about the stresses of the day.

So.  That's my first Good 'Ber Thing: television.  (And that's what you've come to expect from The Creamery: QUALITY CONTENT.)  And I think I can say this safely, even for those of you in the outer reaches of Texas and South Dakota (hello Alicia & Tearese!)--- it doesn't matter how hot it is outside, new TV is pretty good.

Now tell me, and let's not be proud: are you looking forward to watching anything in particular this Fall?  What about that new thing from the people who did Lost?  (And so help me, if you tell me that you simply don't watch television, you are dead to me.)