Blog a la Cart

Month: April, 2011

Annoyance.

The fact that she can make this pose look cute. She lay like this for nearly 5 minutes, sticking out her tongue and chanting, “Blah blah blah.”

Why?

Because she felt like it.

Thought.

Pregnant women should not be allowed anywhere near Google.com when they are given “abnormal” test results related to their fetuses.

I am that pregnant woman who is irrationally playing Google doctor and ugly crying.

A month ago, when we learned that we were expecting a baby girl, we were asked to come in for another ultrasound because the doctor was not satisfied with the pictures of the Sesame Seed’s kidneys. We had the second ultrasound yesterday, and my midwife called me to this morning to tell me that it appears that one of her kidney’s is mildly enlarged.

And we need to do further tests.

At that point I’m pretty sure that I blacked out from panic and came to scheduling a 3 hour appointment with some doctors at Dartmouth that will walk us through genetic consultations and super snazzy ultrasounds to try and get a handle on what might be the problem. If there even is a problem.

I know my midwife told us that it is probably nothing. That she recently delivered a baby that had been labeled as having marked (as in SEVERELY) enlarged kidneys, and when the baby was born, everything was normal and fine.

But that probably is K-I-L-L-I-N-G me.

James, per usual, is as cool as a cucumber and has been reminding me that A. Stressing about it only adds stress on the baby, so I need to bitch be cool, and B. As my midwife said, there is nothing I can do about the situation except keep on keeping on.

I don’t know if there is anything more infuriating than telling a first born, Type A personality that she cannot control something. Especially when that something is living inside her body. I’m her mother, I should be able to do something, anything, to help. And yet, I have to just move forward and cross my fingers that it’s nothing.

I could use a hug.

And physical removal from my computer screen and some xanax might not hurt either.

 

Obsession.

She counts herself in circles when we ask her to count to 10. Apparently, two and ten are synonymous and cause her to start the process all over. I love her panic as she realizes SHE MAY JUST NEVER MAKE IT TO TEN! And the hands aimlessly moving as she mimics how James and I count with our fingers.

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9… 2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9…2

 

Month 5


Long-Sleeve Hemp Cross Back Tee in Fern by be present

How am I feeling?, you ask. Well, FABULOUS, a thank you very much.

It is so very refreshing and gratifying to be able to respond that way, and truly mean it. After a nauseous 1st trimester and a sinus infection filled fourth month, I am (finally) fully immersed in the honeymoon stage of pregnancy. I recognize that with each passing day, the Sesame Seed grows and thus my comfort declines. But I’m trying to stay positive, despite my ankles that throb slightly quicker than usual (this is where James and his nightly foot rubs come into play) and my constant need to urinate.

I so sympathize with the post-60 crowd in my Zumba class. We are constantly running to the restroom for relief throughout the hour long routine.

Also, this baby? She’s an active one. Last night I suffered through two hours of her turning flips and performing an Olympic scale gymnastics floor routine in my uterus.

I get it. You’re alive and (literally) kicking. Now can we just chill out?! Mama needs her sleep!

While it’s reassuring to know that she’s moving and grooving inside, it always happens at the most inopportune moments. All day, while I am walking or moving around, she sleeps because my motion soothes her to slumber. The moment I cease motion, however, and say, lie down to sleep myself, she awakes. My doctor with Addison described it as comparable to sleeping in a car. The motion of the vehicle lulls you to sleep, but once parked, you immediately awake.

I AM NOT A MOVING AUTOMOBILE, Sesame Seed.

I think I’m going to loose this battle. But at least I’m looking super cute while doing it thanks to be present. Just check out my rocking booty below courtesy of the Long-Sleeve Hemp Cross Back Tee. I highly recommend to all, pregnant belly or no.

 

The Month 5 shoot was particularly enjoyable because Sunny joined us in the studio. That’s when these silly photos were taken. She has become more and more interested in the belly as it has become more and more prominent. As expected, however, she does not fully understand what it means when we tell her that her baby sister is in that growing belly. Just this morning she lifted up her own shirt, touched her tummy, and said, “Hi, baby!”

I’d been waiting for that moment.

James and I corrected her and tried explaining that, no, Sunny did not have a baby in her belly, but Mommy did.That’s rather abstract information for a not-even-two-year old to absorb, but at least we’re trying, eh?

And Addison’s Fairy Godmother gifted her with some early birthday presents – an array of books about pregnancy and welcoming a new baby into the home written for soon-to-be older siblings. She very much enjoys the books, and we hope that they’ll help make clear some of what’s happening in our household.

Regardless, we’re reveling in watching her interact with her baby sister, even if her understanding of it all is limited. And now that the Sesame Seed’s kicks and bumps in utereo resonate on the outside of the belly, the whole family can engage with her a little more fully.

Although to Sunny, it must seem like mommy has a belly that can dance. It’s one pretty talented piece of anatomy.

Just wait until the third trimester, Sunny. Mommy’s tummy will be doing the tango.

______________________________________________________________________________________

* Do you want to win the super stylish and cozy Long-Sleeve Hemp Cross Back Tee that I’m wearing?!? Of course you do! Jump on over to Green Eyed Monster to enter!

**Photos: Courtesy of Kate Drew Miller Photography
As always, I cannot thank Kate enough for taking on this project with me. She rocks. Truly.

***Clothes: Courtesy of be present
Please, head on over to Facebook and ‘like’ the heck out of this awesome company. And if you’re on Twitter, why don’t you give ‘em a follow? And you can check out their whole line and subscribe to their newsletter by heading over to www.bepresent.com.

**** Click to see Month 1, Month 2, Month 3, Month 4 and deats on my partnership with be present.

Otoplasty.

When I was little I was referred to as a “Circus Freak.”

I acquired this nickname for two reasons:

1. I had to wear orthopedic shoes to correct my pronated feet. And if you’ve ever seen orthopedic shoes circa 1988, you’d note that they’re clodhoppers distinctly resembling clowns feet.

2. I was born with my father’s ears, which meant that they were deformed due to an excess amount of cartilage and a lack of definition and folding that caused them to stick out. Way out. Much like Dumbo’s.

Elementary school was a rather tumultuous and awkward stage. Add in the colic front and center in my bangs and my hyper-extended knees, and I’m not surprised at all that the more mean-spirited kids landed on the nickname they did.

My parents did the best they could to disguise the ears that drew such negative attention. My mother cleverly used those circular, fabric headbands that were huge in the early 90s seven-year old subset to hold down the back tips of my ears. I also rocked bangs as thick as a Bible that my mother would wet and then hold down with Scotch tape to dry in an effort to prevent that pesky colic from peeking its way through the strands. There are next to no photos of me as a child with my hair pulled back. I was always jealous of my little sister’s collection of frilly bows and scrunchies that she used to style her hair in ponytails, braids, half up/half downs, and so on. Your smile is one of the first things others notice. Other times, a simple whitening might be all you need to transform your look and outlook on life. If you’ve been finding that your smile lacks the kind of brightness and quality that you really want, you’ve probably come across the field of cosmetic dentistry in your search for perfection.  Well what is cosmetic dentistry?  The answer is pretty simple.  It’s a mix of cosmetic gum re contouring and tooth enhancement, specifically developed to address the concerns of people unhappy with their smiles. Cosmetic dentistry provided by the Hardy Pediatric Dentistry and Orthodontics is easily affordably, so dramatically transform your entire look, and Doctor’s are experienced at preforming number of treatments depending on your wants, needs and goals. Sometimes fixing minor imperfections like cracks, chips and gaps with porcelain veneers can completely change everything.

There are four main groups of cosmetic dental procedures. Whitening focuses on improving the color of your teeth.  Bonding involves filling in minor chips and gaps. Veneers focus on changing the shape and appearance of your front teeth. And finally orthodontics can be used in conjunction with any of these procedures to first properly position the teeth.

Whitening

As we age our teeth naturally lose their white color.  Habits like drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes can make things worse by staining the teeth.  This can be reversed by a process known as whitening. (sometimes referred to as “bleaching”). It normally involves the application of a peroxide based gel or liquid to the surface of the teeth. The time involved depends on the strength and composition of the solution. Less intense whitening agents are available over the counter, the stronger more intense are only available through a Quest Dental services.

Bonding

Bonding is a quick and usually simple method of filling in minor chips and breaks in front teeth. A plastic like material known as composite resin can be chemically adhered or “bonded” to your teeth. Numerous shades are available so as to blend in with your natural tooth color. This resin in strong and durable but will discolor and need replacement in time.

Porcelain Veneers

A porcelain veneer effectively hides the tooth defects of your front teeth with a thin shell of porcelain adhered to the surface.  They can be used to cover up stains and chips, along with hiding spaces and gaps that may be present between your teeth. They can also be used to add length and more prominence to your natural teeth. They offer the most dramatic and longest lasting effect of any cosmetic dental procedure.

Cosmetic dentistry is more popular now than ever before partly due to the many exciting advances like the ones used by Designer Dental Wicker Park Group. In addition more and more celebrities and TV personalities are sporting those perfect pearly whites. As people just like you begin having their smiles made over, the idea of perfect teeth is quickly becoming the norm. Cosmetic dentistry is safe, effective, and painless. 

It must have been when I started commenting on the hurtful nicknames sometime in 3rd grade that my parents mentioned that my dad had had similar flappy, large ears. They showed me a spread of pictures of my father as a gap-toothed elementary kid with his big ol’ Dumbo ears. Then they told me that when he was 10 he had had a surgery done to reform their shape so that they folded like your average ear. They added that there was nothing functionally wrong with my ears. It was just that, like Daddy’s, they hadn’t fully formed into the shape of a traditional ear.

They mentioned it. They didn’t demand or even suggest that I have the same surgery performed. They merely planted the seed that such a thing was a possibility for someone like me.

My mother said it was a tricky balance, trying to educate me and let me know that they would be open to me having cosmetic surgery, without forcing such a decision before I had enough autonomy and understanding to weigh in on it.

Fourth grade came around and I became increasingly aware of the mean comments about my ears and my feet. My mother recalls that I walked up to her one day and asked if I could have the same surgery as Dad. Oh, and when the heck could we get rid of the clodhoppers?

I distinctly remember sitting in each session with the cosmetic surgeon discussing the procedure, learning that they would be reshaping all of the cartilage that I already had to create the folds. This is why I say cosmetic surgery, as there is nothing plastic or artificial about my ears today. It is all me, just with some help from a skilled doctor who completed the sculpting that had not been done in utereo.

During my session with the surgeon, I requested that the double ear lobe on my left ear remain intact. I wanted to keep that as my little reminder that my ears were different. Special. My mom said she cringed and thought, “What if she regrets that years from now and wishes she’d gotten that removed, too?” But, as the incredibly empowering woman she is, she remained silent, and let her nine year old advocate and dictate the terms under which the doctors approached my body.

To this day I am grateful to have that double ear lobe.

The month that I had to wear a ridiculous cast around my head was not an easy one. And the pain and then extreme itchiness of recovery was equally as vivid and hard. Most poignant is the noise of the surgeons reshaping my ears as I lay awake for the six hour procedure. Despite a healthy dose of “loopy meds” during the surgery, I can still recall the sounds of sucking, and cutting, and stitching.

My stomach just turned as I relived it.

It was not an easy decision. Nor an easy process. But it was worth it. I outgrew the taunts. I learned to rock a bun like you wouldn’t believe. I grew up to be confident and well-adjusted (as well-adjusted as one can ever be). And I have a profound respect for my parents in how they handled the entire process that led me to that moment.

I tell this story because last week Good Morning America ran a segment on a seven-year old who received the same surgery. My father forwarded me the link and asked, “Should we comment together?” as we are two individuals who have experienced a similar decision and process, and could weigh in on the experience quite personally.

I watched and was saddened by how the situation was portrayed. It was labeled as “plastic surgery” as though otoplasty were like a breast enhancement. I think of it more like a cleft palette. While cosmetic in nature, I do not see it as on the same playing field as most plastic cosmetic surgery. It’s a physical deformity that while not functionally problematic certainly poses social challenges.  I understand that it shouldn’t. That we should love and accept all people exactly as they are. That the problem is not the ears but the bullies. The mean-spirited kids that create nicknames such as “Circus Freak” or “Dumbo.” And while that is all valid and true, how realistic is it to expect a parent to watch their child be ridiculed when there is an opportunity to prevent it?. You can try here for Exceptional Dentistry & Aesthetics.

As a mother now, I know that if one of my children is born with ears like mine and my father’s that I will approach the situation exactly as my parents did. Empowering him or her to have a voice in the decision. Ensuring that that child feels loved and beautiful beyond any physical attributes. But if s/he asks for the surgery, I will give it willingly and without judgement or hesitation.

GMA asked on their Facebook page: Should kids get plastic surgery to combat bullying?

The phrasing of that question alone is troubling, but not nearly as troubling as some of the responses.

Ultimately, people should respect that a decision like this is not taken lightly. It is not easy. And, it is done with the child’s best intentions at heart.

I’m grateful everyday that my parents have the hearts they do.

Man I was a cute kid, but you can still see my deformed left ear.

See the double ear lobe and lack of folding?

This is truly the most awkward and magical family photo of all time. Check out those bangs! They sure do hide the ears (or at least distract from them).

My mother attempted to keep life normal, even when my head was covered in a cast. I don’t think “normal” is the word I would use to describe this photo, but hey, I look pretty darn happy.

23 Months.

Dearest Sunny Bunny,

You are only a month away from being more than one digit old. You’ll be thrilled with this development as TWO is clearly a favorite number of yours. You like to have two of anything in your possession. One for each hand.

Two forks for dinner time.

Two rakes when helping Daddy clear the driveway of winter’s debris.

Two crayons for coloring.

Two cookies.

When cookies are involved, this interest certainly works to your advantage.

But while counting was the highlight of Month 22, Month 23 has been the month of colors. You have successfully sorted out your ability to distinguish color, and boy oh boy is it your favorite way to categorize and understand the world.

Daddy was concerned that you might be colorblind, because in Month 22 you kept confusing “geen” and “wed” (green and red). I had to laugh when he pulled up a series of colorblind tests on the computer, and asked you if you could tell him what letters or numbers were on the screen. That request was a tad beyond your developmental capabilities, and I assured him that we probably needed to give you a bit more time to figure out color differentiation and the corresponding language.

You did not disappoint.

You’ll hold up your Elmo and proclaim, “Elmo wed! No Elmo geen. No Elmo blue. Elmo wed!”

You love to tell us the color of every passing vehicle. Of each Lego. Of your stuffed animals. Of your food. And most importantly, of your clothing. This ability to now discern and express color has led to a growing interest in selecting your own clothing each day when we dress you.

Last Friday, you demanded your blue sundress despite the 40 degree temperatures. And then requested that it be paired with your black and pink corduroy pants. It’s clear that we need to work on color coordination. But for now, we oblige your requests and send you to music class looking like a kid from the 80s. We want to be sure that you feel a sense of independence and freedom when it comes to your personal style, however wacky that style may be.

Now that we’re into wedding season, you’ve attended a number of large scale events and have demonstrated a shyness and neediness for Mommy and Daddy which is expected of most toddlers. I have to admit, it is very sweet to have you burrow into my arms when confronted with a room full of strangers, but it makes it exceedingly difficult to hold a conversation or put you on the ground when Mommy’s tired pregnant body struggles with your whopping 36 pounds of heft. And while you may be shy in larger group settings, you are anything but in the comfort of our home.

You shriek and run and repeat everything we say. You throw your stuffed animals around the room. You build massive block towers and dramatically knock them to the ground. You hurriedly color on your cardboard house and then bury yourself inside, peeking your head out the windows and cackling in delight when you catch our eye. You make up stories about the pictures you see of yourself, or the images you look at in your books. You put together and take apart puzzles. You mimic animal noises. You count down to blast off when demanding “big pushes” in your swing. You jump and dance on the “big pillows” in our house. You decisively tell us what food you’d like to eat, and eagerly ask for “Chocolate?” as though maybe, just maybe, if you ask enough, we’ll give you some. Admittedly, it has a 100% return rate if your Momar or Auntie Kimmy are in the vicinity.

Your love of animals grows by the day, as does your engagement and interaction with our dogs. You’ve mastered the most common commands that James and I use: “Sit,” “Lie Down,” “Out of the kitchen,” “Hanna no barking,” “Guys stop it,” “Stay,” “Come here,” “Good girls” and, “No!”. You like to make both Ursa and Hanna lie at your feet as you brush them feverishly with the dog brush. And you’ve taken an interest in pretending to put eye drops in their eyes like Mommy and Daddy do each day. It’s heartwarming to see how patient and gentle they are with you, and in turn, how loving and affectionate you are with them.

I cannot imagine raising you without their furry, ridiculous presence.

As my belly grows, and you become more and more of an independent, opinionated kid, I’m reminded of the massive life transition that you will experience in mere months. Of course I worry about how you’ll adapt to having Mommy and Daddy’s attention divided to another dependent being in the house. How you’ll react to being an older sister. I am simultaneously terrified and thrilled. Your little sister is already so lucky to have you in her life, just as you are so very lucky to have her.

As we’ve begun throwing the house into turmoil – switching your bedroom, bringing a new bed into the house, building your “big girl” bed, encouraging more frequent potty use – we’ve seen the challenges and difficulty of such transitions for you. Daddy and I are both very sensitive to how you are responding to these physical shifts in the house. You, our champion sleeper, have had an unhappy couple nights of trying to adapt to your new bedroom. Your pitiful moans and cries for us to comfort you remind us that despite all of your growth, you are still our baby, and we must help you through these adjustments. I can’t say I’ve minded cuddling with you, cradling you in my arms, and pulling you into bed with me to help ease your cries and provide some reassurance during these beginning stages of change. After all, no matter how old you are, a piece of me will still always think of you as my baby.

While you are not yet old enough to understand when I tell you that you will always always be my special and only first born, I hope that you feel the all-consuming love that your Daddy and I have for you. Always. No matter how many children we have. No matter your age. No matter how divided our attention may be.

You are responsible for making me a Mommy and I will never have language to fully convey the magnitude of such an act. No one will ever replace who you are and what you mean to this family. No one else will ever be our Sunny.

Happy 23 Months.

143,
Mama

 

 

Sunshine.

My fashion plate.

I want this outfit in my size. Although I could never pull off showing so much leg.

Thought.

That is one content kid and her Elmo. They are clearly pleased with the new mattress.

 

 

Obsession.

This massively spacious bed.

I can star fish in this bed and my limbs won’t fall off the edges. James and I lay around on it this afternoon, both awed that our toes weren’t plummeting off the end. The beauty of the California King, folks.

It’s not as wide as a King, but it gives us an extra four inches of length. And that’s enough for us to finally have all of our appendages in the bed at one time without having to lie on a diagonal. This is a novelty for two six foot plus individuals.

After sharing a double bed for the past year, we made the executive decision that that kind of cramped sleeping arrangement wasn’t cutting it with a pregnant belly and body pillow in the mix.

And when I say “executive decision,” I mean that James and I have been sleeping in separate beds for the past two months because all I would do is thrash and complain when we tried to sleep together. So for the sake of a healthy marriage (and because I was missing out on all those evening foot rubs and back massages that James willing gives when I am carrying around his child), a larger bed became a priority.

I only have 4 months left to milk these complaint-free massages. I wasn’t going to loose any more ground on that front.

Sunny was thrilled to roll around on such a huge “big pillow.” However, because it’s a Tempur-Pedic, it doesn’t have the bounce of our old bed. She was more than mildly confused when she jumped and landed on her butt and the mattress promptly absorbed her tiny bum form into its clutches. Not nearly as much fun for jumping, but more spacious for family snuggles.

James’ greatest concern about going to memory foam was based on some reviews he’d read. Couples complained that they missed the bounce of a spring mattress in their intimate relations.

We’ll have to get back to you with our review on that matter. In the meantime, Sunny and I are going to roll around in giddy delight on the newest addition, while James looks forward to a decent night’s sleep free from my constant complaints of discomfort.

Poster Hangers

As you may have gathered from our recent posts, wedding season is in full swing for the Ulmer sisters. The past two weekends have found us celebrating friends’ nuptials, and that’s only just the beginning. With weddings, of course, come wedding gifts. And boy oh boy can that add up! To keep expenses down, but keep the gifts unique and personal, we’ve purchased a number of Ork posters corresponding to the various cities where the couples either live or met.

The designs are rad. The price is right. The perfect wedding gifts they are.

In order to avoid the added expense of framing, and to maintain the raw poster look, we experimented with two neat and affordable means of hanging the posters. One method requires four small binder clips, and the other, a pant hanger. Seriously, it’s that simple.

I think the images speak for themselves in terms of how to execute these hanging methods. Pretty cool (and easy), eh?

BINDER CLIPS

PANT HANGER