Work? No! Let's have SNOW!

January 20th, 2014...I had dreaded that fateful day for months.

The week before my scheduled death sentence we had a lovely visit with Anna, my roommate from Governor's School in 2002, her daughter, Grace, and another boy she keeps during the week, Aiden.



I got to experience having three kids in the house at once!  Had I been solely responsible for them I would have eventually needed backup, although they were SO sweet and adorable.  Translation:  Emmy will be an only child for a while.

We also spent time with Nanny & Papa, who are always thrilled to see her.

Emmy was extra snuggly on Doomsday Eve...on what planet would I want to leave this sweet face every morning, especially for non stop catastrophes? : (

Surprisingly I was emotionally in tact last Monday morning, likely because the misery had yet to settle in.

My expression while walking in the office:

How I actually felt:

I guess I secretly hoped that a miracle would take place on my way to work that morning and save me, like:

1) My car getting sucked into a UFO

2)  Having a sudden need for an emergency dental procedure

Just go ahead and pull them all.

3) An earthquake putting a permanent trench in the parking lot leading into my office building

We regret to inform you that this gap shall never again provide passage.

So... back to customer crises, things that don't work, useless conference calls...

"Today we discuss the importance of the first 'R' in the word "February."

Why am I here??  No one even pronounces me!!!



Sharing night shifts with Ryan has definitely been interesting, and at times it's temping for both of us to play possum when we start hearing the fidgeting on the baby monitor.  So, what we've implemented is a "hot potato" approach when it comes to Emerson.  Whoever held her last before she screams is responsible for it.

And once you get her to sleep it's like a giant game of "Don't Wake Emmy."  

I've never in my life seen such a light sleeper.  Is London hiring guards?  Because she'd make an excellent, watchful eye.

I made a mental disposal of everything I "knew" up to this point about sleeping babies and started from scratch, literally.  The nails on my baby girl would give the average clerk a run for her money.

That'll be $5.75, honey.

I have labeled what I believe are the "phases" of Emerson's sleep patterns.  Allow me to elaborate in a desperate effort to help others whose need for this advice is as imperative as the next breath of air or thump of their heartbeat:

Phase 1:  Scream AKA fight sleep.  This phase can come on suddenly, like a gas pain or home invasion.  One minute we're watching a DVRed American Idol episode, and the next moment, BAM!!!   That scream is more startling than a smack in the face.

Phase 2:  Go in the bathroom and turn on the hairdryer.  The sudden loud noise stops her in her vocal tracks, where she'll spend the next 5-10 minutes looking around while I sway her from side to side with my hair lumped like a log on my head to avoid her pulling out the stray hairs.  Elaborate up-do aside, she manages to find them anyway, and being poked repeatedly with a needle just may hurt a little less.

Phase 3: The eyes are now closed, but beware: this phase contains trickery.  What you think is a snooze may in fact be a long blink, resulting in entering Phase 4 too quickly and going back to Phase 1.

Phase 4: Loose legs and arms.  These can be tested with a quick lift.  If they fall straight down, you're in luck and can successfully make your way to the rocking chair, where you can relieve your now aching back.  Rock psychotically for several minutes while throwing in a few more "lift checks" in for good measure.

Phase 5:  Time to enter the crib!!!  SLOW is key here.  Think turtle-walking-through-tar.  EVER so carefully begin the two foot down move onto the mattress.  Move arms downward like a dilapidated elevator in the world's oldest building, or else you'll be sorry.  Carefully, and slowly slide your arms out from under the breathing miracle that you love so dearly but WISH would allow you the kind of sleep you'd get after college exams.  Stay on standby for at least thirty seconds to settle a flailing arm or foot, and then exit the nursery.

YOU MADE IT...or did you???

One time I had passed phase five when the button on my pajamas hit the crib, startling her awake.  I resisted the urge to set that sleepwear on fire and made a mental note to be more careful in the future.

If "success" could be defined through a picture, here it is.

ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Along with constant fatigue, aches, and poop, there are of COURSE fun things, too...like Emerson's first time going to a Birthday party last Saturday.  And it wasn't just any party.  It was a CIRCUS!

Outtake 1

That's more like it.

Emmy was nice and alert for a good while, but she eventually found a sweet sleeping buddy!  We had a great time at Wren's first Birthday party, and praise the Lord that she saved the explosion for the comfort of our home.  It was a circus, alright.

Emmy doesn't seem to have any problem warming up to people.  Daycare has gone really well, and evidently she LOVES it!

Successful first day: check.

At least one of us is having a great time during the day!  I on the other hand am busier than a bread truck driver the day before a winter storm.

Does this sucker have four wheel drive???

And my brain has been in overload.

It was hard enough for me to get to work on time BEFORE her arrival, but one can only imagine the hurdles associated with getting an "adult" AND a newborn out of the door at a specific time...not to mention keeping the house neat and tidy to appease the Cleaning Warden.

A few weeks ago Ryan looked at me, disgusted, and asked, "Where'd you get the Tazmanian Devil?"

I looked around frantically and swore to him that I had not bought such a stuffed animal.

But he kept asking, and in my purely honest confusion I finally said in exasperation..."WHAT are you talking about?!??!"

He referenced the contents of my pocketbook on the floor in my closet.  You know, the usuals- Chapstick, new lipstick, old tube of lipstick of which I just ran out but was too cheap (shockingly) to throw away, because I keep thinking I can squeeze out a few more turns from it, unopened bandaids that are filthy on the outside, loose and un-matching earrings, broken eye liner pencils, checks, hair products, church bulletins that look like they've been through the washing machine on speed cycle, piles of useless- and also smashed- business cards, expired coupons that the cash register regurgitated on my last trip to Bi-Lo, mail...need I continue?

In essence the floor of our closet looked something like this:

And I had completely forgotten about it.  But it wasn't getting past Ryan.

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness..."  from Chapter 1, verse 3 of the book of Organization.

Speaking of all things orderly and in place: I have been engaged in a MOST unsuccessful battle with my "benefits" department (cue cricket chips) and insurance provider over Emerson's coverage.  My efforts have proven to be more futile than the average experiment on Home Improvement.

"I don't think so, Tim."

Remembering "What Would Jesus Do?" has been INCREDIBLY difficult during this unnecessarily horrendous ordeal.  At this rate perhaps her insurance plan will be in place by the time we enroll her in college. 

Recent challenges have included but are not limited to: NEVER getting someone live, her being listed as the wrong gender (hello- her middle name is ALICE?!?), having to pay out of pocket for the time I was on leave, being initially uninformed of that tidbit and almost losing coverage completely, the company only accepting documents via fax (is this 1980??), calling a MILLION times to confirm that she's listed as a dependent only to receive another denial notice on her doctor's bill, and those HORRID voice recognition messages, resulting in conversations that would rival the confusion at the Tower of Babel...

"Please say, in a few words, how I can help you today."

"Coverage."

"I'm sorry, I didn't get that."

"COVERAGE."

"You said: "butt kiss."  Is this correct?"

LIVE REPRESENTATIVE!!!!!!!

I have been so frustrated and fuming with this situation that I'd have more confidence boarding the Titanic with ankle weights.

Here is Emerson at the youthful age of 152...with her new insurance card that just arrived.

Speaking of youth, there are few things in this world that make everyone feel like a kid at heart, and that's snowfall.

With business, schools, daycares, and everyone but the Liberty Tax guy trapped indoors for the past few days, I've had an awesomely fun time at home making memories with my family.

Yesterday, our first snow day in a LONG time, also happened to be Emmy's three month "Birthday."  Could you think of a sweeter way to commemorate such an occasion?

Ryan actually worked for part of the day, but this sweet girl was in good hands with her grandparents and uncle who ADORE her.

Emmy, when you read this in the future, you need to know how DEEPLY you are loved more than life itself.  Every child in the world deserves to be as loved as you are, my baby.

Our snow day consisted of a brief snowball fight/an adventure in the woods...

Homemade chili and baked potatoes for dinner...

And SNOW CREAM dessert made by Chef Boyar-JAY!  He's phenomenal.  And so was the snow cream that I, for the record, had never consumed until yesterday.

The following discussion took place during our dessert:

Me: Is it sanitary to eat snow?

Jay: Oh, yeah, it's fine.  I sanitized and boiled it before mixing the cream. We're so used to boiling bottles by now that this comment almost sunk in without my noticing.

Me: Okay, well, does snow have carbs?  In my defense, it did resemble heavily caloric flour.

Jay: "....."

Me: Oh, WAIT! It's ICE.  Oops!

Jay: But all that sugar in it definitely has carbs.

Me: Okay!  ...as I go back for a second serving.

Having the past day and a half of freedom has allowed me to reflect on snow: its presence, purity, and even power.  Think about it.  Just a few inches of the stuff shut down major cities and resulted in a declared 'emergency' in numerous states.

As much chaos as snow can cause, it can also provide some of the greatest peace on earth.  Out of all the weather phenomenons it is the only one that can't be heard; it must be seen.  You can hear rain, howling wind, and fire crackling, but you will never hear a snowflake as it hits the ground, losing its once perfectly unique shape and mixing with the other snow.  Perhaps the lack of sound is part of what makes it so beautiful, just like the voice of God.  In the same way that You must seek Him in order for His voice to be revealed your eyes must be open to take in the sight of a snow covered mountain.  And each person created in His image is as unique as a snowflake.

My train of thought went further.  No matter what snow covers it gives purity to everything it touches.  It covers filthy garbage dumps just as easily as it would blanket the Biltmore estate.  Isn't that how the blood of Christ works?  It covers all of us- no matter who or what we were before- the church goer who likes to gossip occasionally or the person behind bars for a heinous crime.  We are cleansed by His blood and can only attain righteousness through Him.  Of course we have to accept, believe, and live by His word, but He is simply waiting for you to acknowledge that He is the one who is covering you.

So as we head into a weekend with snow still on the ground, I say with multiple meanings: Get under the covers!!!

The King, Princess, & Queen Enter 2014

I always loved science as a kid.  In fact, it was one of the few classes that could keep my attention.

With my love for experimentation and making messes I find myself wishing I had invented formula, AKA powdered gold.

It is the first time in my life that I've actually done flips when receiving coupons in the mail.

YES!!!  Katharine checks the mailbox again.

But when it comes to eating we all know this simple, scientific rule: what goes in must come out.

Fireworks, blasts, explosions....these are all ways in which we celebrate the start of a new year.  Emerson has been on earth slightly over two months, and yet she took this tradition very seriously.  Let me tell you about the moment that will be recorded in future history books known as the Outback Blowout.

"Four score and seven poops ago..."

On New Year's Eve we took our first trip to a restaurant as a family of three.  Emmy was quite the fashionista in her new outfit and vest.  Little did those clothes know that their newness- and fresh aroma- would be short lived.

She was the perfect little lady at our table.

What do you mean I can't have any cheese fries???

I guess just looking at that food can wreak havoc on one's intestines, because just five minutes after taking this picture both Ryan and I locked eyes as we heard- and smelled- the explosion.

Code POOP at table 12.

I froze in a panic.  I didn't know what to do!  Was I supposed to actually take her to the "koala" changing station on the wall in the restaurant bathroom and force the other innocent occupants to hear the following in the next stall?

"WOAH that's a lot of excrement!"

"I hope their interior decorator is fond of brown spots..."

"Emmy, move your foot.  Wait, NO.  Not there!"

"World War Pee!"

"Lord, SEND ME A HOSE!"

Does anyone actually change their children in those things?  Talk about being scarred for life.  Being in the completely unchartered territory that I was I decided to take her to the only private place possible: my car.

This feature was NOT listed in my manual...

Ryan stifled a laugh as I lugged Emmy out to the car as if I were carrying a biohazard bag.  What followed was a fifteen minute episode of flying pants, diapers, freezing cold wipes, zip loc bags, and sanity, all the while making every attempt possible not to make a scene in the parking lot.  I can only imagine how this incident unfolded to viewers from inside the restaurant...

"Mommy, look!  There's a lady with a naked baby outside throwing clothes around!"

"There you go with those wild stories again... Turn around and eat your -"

"No, really!  I promise this time!"

"You're GROUNDED."

To the kid that likely received punishment for making this announcement at the table: I am sorry. 

It dawned on me the other day that dressing Emmy is exactly like the Hokey Pokey.

"You put your hand in, you take your foot out, you put your arm in, and you shake it all about..."

I have therefore resorted to fast, impromptu movements to get the job done.  The quicker the better.

"That's what it's all about!"

I must say that compared to my motherly knowledge when Emerson was first born I have become quite the pro at certain things, like getting her to be quiet when she's fighting sleep.

The hair dryer, dryer in the laundry room, and bathroom exhaust fans have been a LIFE SAVER.  They work almost every single time and make me feel like a hero.

However, I still have my moments when I'm more overwhelmed than the time I went out on the beach with a box of Cheez-its...

MINE! MINE! MINE!  ZOOOOMMMMMM!!!!

But new year's blowouts aside, we did have a fabulous first celebration with our little girl.

Auld Lang Tide.

Today begins my last week of maternity leave before returning to...I don't even want to say it.  Let's just say that it rhymes with "twerk" and is equally as ridiculous.

Things that are less sad than my maternity leave ending:

1) The final Titanic scene with Jack & Rose

I'll never let go!

2) Mufasa's death

3) The amount of money my family spent on Beanie Babies thinking their value would send Emerson to college one day

Over and over again I've been told, "Oh, millions of Moms go back to work.  You're not alone," but that's not necessarily a comfort.

If I and a million other people got kicked in the shin it wouldn't make my injury hurt any less.

At LEAST the Lord has proven, yet again, His faithfulness to us in finding a safe and wonderful place for Emerson to go to the nursery.  My stomach was in absolute knots about it, and my initial search proved to be less successful than trying to find a babysitter for that kid in Problem Child.

I called EVERYWHERE, and no place had an open spot.  What was I supposed to do?  Pay for a spot on the waiting list on MY first Birthday?

Well, that's a strange gift, but thanks anyway.

Map of US daycares with no vacancies.

This was turning into a modern day search for a room.  Does the story of Jesus's birth ring a bell?  But the Lord had our best interests at heart.  After touring several places that were just not what I had in mind, last week- slightly over two weeks before my "staycation" was ending- we found a wonderful, impressive, Christ centered place for Emerson to go- if only there was a vacancy. From the beginning the director and staff were phenomenal, the interaction with the children was heart warming, the curriculum (for infants- ha!) was impressive, and to top it off I met another young couple who is expecting a little girl named "Ella" in a few weeks, were high school sweethearts (sound familiar?), and who drove the same car as I do.  Crazy, right?

During our visit one of the staff came over to us in the hallway- completely unsolicited- and said that they look forward to coming to the center each day, love these children like they are their own, and that she hoped we would choose them.  "Hoped we'd choose them??"  More like ME begging at their feet for an opening!

The facility tour ended, and I was just getting my checkbook out and asking the director how much I owed for the waiting list when I almost fell out of my chair at her response.  Certainly I must be hearing her incorrectly.

"One of our infants is transferring, and we will have a spot open for you next week- no waiting list necessary."

In that instant I was more surprised than this monkey who, by the looks of it, received an unexpected enema at the zoo.

I suppose after all my years of misfortune in grocery lines, traffic jams, and DMV debacles I was due for a blessing, but I told the director that surely I would be struck by lightning or hit by a bus later that afternoon, because there was NO WAY I was having such luck.

But this was not random luck; it was the hand of Jesus.  Before we set out that day my Mom prayed out loud that He would lead us to a safe and wonderful environment for Emmy, because we didn't know where to go or what to do.  I now find it hilarious that we missed the initial turn into this place.  Who says that God doesn't have a sense of humor?

So as I soak up the last week of happiness between the hours of 8:00 and 5:00 I reflect upon all things Emerson.

Like the time she fell asleep sitting up.

Or the morning she threatened to punch me in the nose because I didn't have her bottle ready fast enough.

How absolutely adorable she looks while bundled up on a cold day.

The speed and distance with which her bladder works.

Her impeccable sense of fashion.

Her smiles that are straight from Heaven.

How much she adores her uncles.

And her Daddy, too.

The sleepy smirks I get while she sleeps on my chest.

And, most of all, the fact that she is an absolute angel.

As we enter a new year I wonder what is going to take place in the next twelve months- both personally and professionally.  What things will our family do?  To what places will we go, and what will we learn?  Everything we do gives us more experience, which brings me to this thought: people are obsessed with saying they have no regrets.  And I wonder...why is that?

The truth is, I have regrets every day.  I regret that I chose the one line in the bank that took the longest, I regret getting fries with that burger (although GOOD LAWD were they tasty), and more seriously, I regret anything I did on a given day that was displeasing to Him- whether it was neglecting to read my Bible or speaking angrily to a family member, for example.  I think mistakes and regrets are there so that we can learn from them.  And quite honestly, I don't think anyone has zero regrets.  That's simply impossible.

Ringing in a new year can be such an exciting occasion, but for many, it can also be a sad time.  Saying goodbye to a year that took one of your loved ones can be extremely difficult.  Several families have been in my thoughts and prayers as we entered 2014, and now each night one of my prayers is this: that He would continue to bless my family and loved ones with not only health, safety, and basic needs but with each other.

I'll definitely need your prayers as I head back to my (aptly named) job next week and miss every waking moment with my baby girl.  I have tried to rationalize by telling myself that eventually she would have to go to school anyway, but on that fateful morning my shattered heart will look as if someone sprinkled glitter all over a football field.

X-Ray results for Moody, Katharine

But just before I could have a meltdown a thought hit me like a ton of bricks.  I have often said that out of all the people in the world God chose us to be Emmy's parents.  Careful thought by our Creator was given regarding her place.  Wouldn't the same consideration be taken for the workers in her nursery?  Didn't He also know the entire time who these ladies would be, and just as our hearts were prepared to be parents wouldn't he provide the knowledge and love to abide in them as they care for our little blessing each day?  Although being without her during the day will still be heartbreaking, that realization alone made me feel much better.

For now I will focus on the (almost) 11 weeks that the Lord has given us with our little girl, and by his grace, there will be MANY more.  Because the truth is, I realize that I have so much to look forward to: her first crawl, walk, words, hearing her say "I love you," her first trip to the zoo (minus the enema induced monkey), vacations, you name it.

And that, my friends, will make my days- especially work days- worth it.