turkey appreciation day

Excuse me while I OMP!OMP!OMP! nibble away at my turkeys.

Turkey bellies.

Turkey feet.

Turkey necks.

Turkey cheeks.

Go. Appreciate your turkeys.

opening remarks

I have only static in my head, which I suppose is to be expected, etc. I'd like to put together a coherent thought here or there, but I'm temporally surrendering that ambition. Instead, here's the beginning of a number of posts I'd like to construct, if I had 5% of a functioning brain.

It's possible we are approaching the point where any reasonable parent would cut her boy-child's hair. Emmett is beginning to look like Baby Einstein with his puff ball doo. Yet I cannot imagine cutting that hair without getting all weepy. I have a whole other baby after him, but I cannot let go of his babyness.

I really thought that Willa smiled purposefully at me last week. I called my Mom who said, "Oh! She's SUCH a bright child, OF COURSE she smiled at you at only two weeks old!" Then my Dad got on the phone and said, "Well, I suppose that's a little bit possible for a two-week-old." Even though she hasn't done it again since then, only ONE of them had the right response.

Yesterday marked the 150th anniversary of the debut publishing of Darwin's Origin of the Species. I sincerely wish I could write something thoughtful here about the man, yet it seems there is nothing new to say, true or false, about him or his works. Since Origin's first publishing, Darwin has been hoisted to the level of folk legend, in a light rarely granted to scientists. I think his status in history has as much to do with his brilliant thinking and analyses as it does with the paradigm for human living which arises from the facts of his research and conclusions. It's been said that nothing in biology makes sense except in the light of evolution. I think this understanding, springing first from the mind of Darwin, gives actual meaning to life rather than detracts from it.

My first day back at work is TUESDAY. I can't believe it's already time for me to return parttime, because DAMN that went fast. But I'm also really excited because I'll be spending some time in the evening and night in the field. And because I am INSANE, thinking it'll be great to work outside from 2pm to midnight and then come home to stay up with the baby. HA. You can remind me about how excited I was next week, okay?

My poor baby girl is spending her first few weeks of life with horrendous diaper rash. I didn't think little babies GOT bad diaper rash. And now her mother is posting this information on the internet?! Poor, poor child. We're wondering if it could be yeast infection? Welcome to the sisterhood, girlfriend.

"she looks so different from her brothers!"

We keep exclaiming! over how different! Willa looks from her brothers. And while I tend to think all newborns look somewhat alike (i.e., like tiny bald trolls, it's no wonder hospital staff occasionally mix them up), it appears genetics may be making their show.

Willa is certainly smaller than her brothers, weighing only 7 lbs, 8oz at 2 weeks old, and still not even fitting into her 0-3 month clothes. The boys were both wearing 3T and filling out their applications for the Lumberjack World Championship by their 2-week checkup. Although I've been assured she is healthy and normal, I can't help but think of her as our little runt.

So! I think they all have the same eyes and mouth. Also the same nose. Hell, they've pretty much got the whole same FACE. You be the judge.

Calum (day 2), Emmett (day 4), Willa (day 2):




Calum (day 4), Emmett (day 10), Willa (day 5):



Calum (4 weeks), Emmett (3 weeks), Willa (<2 weeks):

breakfast of superheroes

Emmett has not been a fan of babies since he first recognized their existence. We fully expected his transition into Big Brotherhood to be rough. But like most of our parenting expectations, we were dead wrong.

Emmett has hardly batted an eye at the addition of a baby sister. And in the past few days, he's showed genuine interest in her, asking to hold her and wanting to "help" by bringing her things she doesn't need (e.g., superhero dolls, pillows, pretzels...).

Emmett would like you to admire the "owls" on his hands.

So can you guess who's giving us the hard time with the addition of Willa Mae?

Oh Calum. I am fully aware and acutely self-conscious of how often I've written that Calum is our "challenging" child. I love that boy dearly, you all know that. Also, he is driving me UP THE WALL.

And Cal would like you to appreciate his bat moustache.

He is energetic and funny and wickedly independent. On the flip side, this translates into also being wild and loud and outright defiant. He is so tantrumy, all the time over every little thing. The screaming and arguing is making me want to stick hot pokers in my ears just to get a little relief.

Calum adores Willa, and none of this is directed AT her. But I can only surmise that this recent onslaught of bad behavior is in part triggered by our sudden shift in family dynamics.

In short: we're blaming the baby.

On the other hand, these boys have become real buddies lately. I know it didn't happen overnight, but they are fighting much less and playing together much more. I mostly believed everyone who told me this would happen eventually, but it's great to see some actual progress.

For her part, Willa seems to find her brothers interesting.

Ok, not really.

how i roll

I backed into another car in the pediatrician's parking lot after Willa's four-day-old appointment.

It wasn't a BIG deal, of course, since it happened in slow, 1.5 mph motion and no animals were harmed in the process of fender bendering. Accidents happen, yes. Still: Boo hoo.

So, I lodged $3000 worth of claims to my auto insurance, and for the rest of my life I will PAY THE PIPER since insurance companies are like VAMPIRES and once they taste your blood, they will always know where you are and how to find you to UP YOUR PREMIUMS.

But hey, at least we're finally getting something for all that insurance we buy! At least I only paid the deductible portion of $3k, thus blowing only the Christmas budget for the WHOLE FAM (Merry Christmas, Loved Ones!) instead of also the mortgage payment. (Yes, I am being a little dramatic here, but SHUT IT all you put-it-in-perspective levelheads.)

In other news, I continue my maternal quest to capture The Perfect Photo of my children, this time with crosshairs on Willa Mae.

It's impossible and I've finally figured out why. Photos don't capture the SMELL. There's got to be a way to fix that, right? Like, a little microchip that stores a vial of Newborn Willa scent and sprays you in the face each time you look at it? Go forth, ye noble inventors and make your million. I'll be waiting.

A few folks asked about Willa's name, and how we decided. We first considered Willa while trolling the Social Security name database, sifting through popular names from the 1890s.

Early one morning, Brett was out running & I was leaving to drop off boys and head for work. I left him a note on the kitchen table that said "How about Willa?" When I got home from work that evening, he'd left a note back saying, "Like it. Let's discuss." And that was that, no discussion necessary.

Her middle name Mary is after my mom, who I wrote more about here. She might be the most generous, open-hearted person I've ever known. At the risk of going TOTALLY SAP on you, she's like our family's version of The Giving Tree. I think, more than anyone else, she has become the glue which binds us, and ever more so with our growing pool of grandchildren. Mae is short for Mary, and there is the anatomy of the name.