pate please

from what i've gathered via baby books and baby websites, once your little one begins to eat solids, you should encourage and offer different types of food; and so naturally, jon and i have been doing just that, and to our amusement conrad will eat just about anything not spinach. which makes me wonder if i should be offering escargot and pate in between his exotic cheese and wine flight...

so far the list of preferred foods reads:

avocados
pears
cherrios
peaches, bananas, and rice combo
soy hot dogs
nature's best teething biscuits
baby yogurt
spaghetti...bring on the garlic!
pasta salad (artichoke hearts and all)
cheeses: cheddar, mozzarella, feta, and gorgonzola.
my smoothies (including one with a good dose of carrot juice in it).
risotto cakes on a bed of marinara, basil, and cheese

the concept of permanence

i was in high school when my childhood dog passed away. her name was peggy sue, she was a full blood boxer, with the pointed ears and a chopped tail, who, as a child, i would paint her nails barbie pink and, when sad, wrap my arms around her and cry into her neck. i remember the day my parents took us to the breeders home, michelle and i sat there on the ground in the midst of puppies, laughing with unsurpasable joy as the they bombarded us with licks and tiny chews; peggy was so calm compared to the others, she was content to sit in my lap, and i was sure she was the one.

when lou came into my life he was already a Dog, passed his puppies days but his puppy behavior. jon and i were dating, and i had gone over to the "ponde rosa" to pick him up before we went out. his other roommates/band mates were there with the usual entourage, drinking bad beer, smoking good pot on the couch while watching Oprah. being a new person to their scene everyone felt it mandatory to show me just how wild and crazy the house dog was; then jon pointed out the five broken windows...broken that week from lou trying to get to the mailman, and, after being jumped on and knocked to the ground where the word "kisses" was chimed by everyone, i was left with a sloppy face and a love for such a wild dog.

little did it occur to me that a few years later that same wild dog i witnessed terrorize a living room would be a roommate of mine. our differences ( and by differences i mean, me thinking trash was trash and therefore meant to stay in the trash can while lou believing trash was food and therefore needed to be saved from the trash can, or, me insisting my panties weren't a chew toy and lou insisting otherwise) were vast in terms of agreeable living conditions, and after conrad was born, they were really,really vast; but lou was my dog, my great big, 115 lb, full of personality, singing rottweiler Dawg. seeing him the past week with all his verve gone, his back legs so swollen he could hardly pull himself up, his appetite non-existent (not even a steak could persuade him!), and his big brown eyes heavy with discomfort, practically broke my heart right in half.

last night i thought for sure his time had come. i sat in the kitchen with him, gently running my fingers down his shiny black coat, letting the tile floor catch the river of tears that poured down my face, telling him all about heaven and how lovely it would be, how there was a mansion there for jon and i and how he needed to guard it for us till we could be there with him, and how, Peggy would be there too, and, believe or not, but a select few cats get into heaven too, so as to not maul to death precious or clover, whenever he arrives.

then around 5:30am this morning i woke up to a yelp and realized lou was trying to stand up-he was still with us and still in great pain. jon and i had discussed helping him along his way if lou still showed no signs of improvement by this morning, and there it was: no signs of improvement- the cancer had taken hold of his body and lou was slowly and painfully dying.

so this morning, jon did what no loving master ever thinks or wants of having to do; him and his brother helped lift him onto his legs and into his kennel, then off to the vet to aid him in meeting his other master.

a few months back i read about how conrad was learning the concept of permanence, and that was why games like peek-a-boo are just so much for him. then a few hours later, i was doing the dishes, the back door was open, and i looked over without thinking, expecting to see lou at the screen door staring in at me like he always did.

there is a buzz around the house lately, of constant chores being done, and ideas being hatched, and conrad crawling and climbing into and onto everything, and of dealing with an impending great loss.

last week, jon and i both noticed something awry with lou dog; foremost, he wasn't him old self-no chasing cars as the drove down the alley, no howling with the downtown sirens, no crashing into the back door when we would call for him to come in-just this lethargic dog we had never seen before with a swollen neck.

after calling the vet and describing the symptoms, they suggested we give him two benedryls, as it sounded like he might have gotten bite my a black widow. which seemed like a perfectly normal scenario, afterall, lou often will take his ball into the garage/shed and get it stuck in the darkness of all those boxes and miscellany items, where black widows like to live.

but after a week the only changes we noticed we're slight, marginal at best; his condition was still worrisome, and so, on monday evening jon and his brother brought lou to get looked at.

a hour or so after they left jon called me to tell me lou had lymphoma and would only be with us for, maybe, three months.



since that call we've been waiting on lou hand and foot...this is harder to write about than i imagined and i'm having great difficulty in going any further, as further...i just can't. i'm asll tears. i'm wanting to believe in God for a canine miracle: for lou and for my husband. the good news is that the doggy doc gave him some presidone and so he is in much better shape.

this weekend we'll be taking him up to squall lakes with us, and i'll be sure to take lots of pictures of it.

Conrad, 10 months 1 week.
weight 21 lbs
height 30 inches
perfect, angelic, silly, fast, uber inquistive


conrad sleeping...

as you can see his crib has become home to a plithre of stuffed animals, aka wrestling foes/snuggle buddies.

conrad playing...and mesmerized, as usual, by the dangling camera strap.

t'shirt reads, "My Heart Belongs To Daddy". it's a lie, we both know it belongs to Me...Mommy.

conrad discovering...

...learning about how his index finger, when applied to the spout from whence the water came out, could control the water shooting out (he also discovered that day that he could push down the side and all the water would pour out onto the yard and from there, mud.)

conrad rock climbing...

no exaggeration. that little man really rock climbed, i simply kept my hands under his tushie in case he should loose footing.

last night i had this wonderful idea of dumping a bag of flour on the floor and then placing some measuring cups and bowls with water in them down there too, and to top it all off, add conrad in just his diaper to the mixture ( i was hoping for tasty baby pie and ended up with a sticky,doughy baby ready to have newspaper machete all over him and made into a vbs craft time balloon). so of course, that is exactly what i did, and what i did was not think through this great idea; no, i did not take into consideration that flour plus water equals glue, and that, glue on a tile floor means there can only be one way to clean it up, and that is on all fours with a knife, chiseling away like a mad women. nor did i really think through just how conrad and i would get clean taking a shower together, or that all that dough being washed off conrad would end up getting stuck in my muff. that's right, i wrote it: flour glue in my muff! but lordy, was it just too much fun watching him make dough and realizing dough don't taste like pears, not a damn bit.

i've been sitting here in front of the computer, gazing, reflecting, re-hashing the past few days events and what i should purge from my crowded mental cavity, only to keep rounding a personal dilemma: post-natal baby hair regrowth retardation.

i don't remember if i ever blogged about my hair loss after conrad was born or not...but, yes, i did. i lost it in clumps and handfuls, down the drain, and all up in my hair brushes business. i joked around with jon that i would soon look like gollam and thank god i never did though i did come close and even started mumbling diatribes about "my precious" and catching fish with my hands.

not too long ago, oh let's say, a month ago i started noticing little cute baby hairs popping up all along the edge of my hair line and on top of my head; and sure, it was exciting and encouraging at first, dare i say, dainty. but then they started to grow, and grow curly, sticking out from underneath my straight hair like a bad wig.

i thought that my hair dresser might be able to give me a hair cut to hide them but then he cut my hair and i came to the conclusion he pretty much sucks and i probably need to find a new hair dresser, regardless.

my sister has one of those uber fancy straighting irons that, when she was here, i used and was able to get some control, but now that she's gone and i'm left with my $20.00 Revlon Straightner, and cursing at my hair.

the downside of upside and the upside of downside



conrad's first art project. he calls it,
"ketchup and mustard reflections"

i've blogged before about the trials and tribulations in changing conrad's diaper, cross comparing to him to a twirling, spinning river otter. that was about a month and a half ago: a month and half ago before he was actually crawling and pulling himself up to standing positions. if before he was a river otter he is now a flapping and jumping and impossible to get your hands around, determined to pull his diaper off before you have it fastened on, attempting to jump off the side of the changing table, crawl away bare butt(ed) 22lb fish. it makes me miss the days of getting a urine shot in the eyeball and epic assplosions, and that's saying alot. really, i don't think jon or myself knew just how good we had it.

lately it seems everything is becoming a little more complicated, just not the diaper changes. our typical 2-4 night wakings have turned into 4-6; and i would desperately like to let him "cry it out" but the problem is no longer the issue of him feeling abdonned or not but of him standing in his crib unable to figure out how to sit or lay back down from that position. even getting him down for naps and bedtime has become a full on ordeal due to his infatution with not laying down and pulling his diapers out of the dragon-diaper-holder-thing we have on the wall next to his crib. sometimes i'll go in there after thinking i have him down for a nap and find him chest deep in diapers with a huge tired grin on his face.

of course, along with all these new challenges has come the joy in watching him discover his ability in pulling all the tupperware out of the drawer or the look of accomplishment he gets when he, incessantly, pulls the drain out in the tub when i'm trying to bath him in water is left, or the way he defeatidly hums along as i sing him to sleep; and so, so much more.

none the less, i wish they made infant sedatives for doing diaper changes. :)

re:conrad's first time in a pool

i'm almost positive if i were to strap conrad to the back of a rocket and blast him off into space and then him land on the moon and meet a few aliens and have indian food with them, then come back earth to me, he would be clapping and smiling for more; there just isn't much you can throw at that kid that he doesn't Love and Love whole heartidly.

earlier today conrad and i went over to shahala and zion's house for our first play date. zion was sleeping so i took the oppurtunity to feed conrad a jar of food and then he enthusiastically explored the new house while shahala and i chatted and had a cup of tea. shahala was planning on taking zion to the pool afterwards and so our play date turned into a pool date. we ran home and threw some towels and swim trunks in a plastic bag and made our way to the YMCA.

the first few minutes in the water conrad seemed more interested in watching zion, then, like magic, the awesomeness of this giant mass of water that he was in and i was in and his new friends were in, dawned on him and he began to kick and splash and laugh like nothing in his life had ever been so wonderful, not even lou dog licking his face or daddy tossing him vigorously through the air.

within thirty minutes conrad was attempting to blow bubbles and wanting me to superman him across the surface of the water, and though his bathtime gave me every inclination he would be a water baby, i wasn't quite expecting him to figure out the doggy paddle so quickly.

we rinsed off at the showers, and conrad squealed and grasped at the water falling; we dried off, and conrad gibbered away to zion; we went out for thai food and conrad banged on the table; we came home and he nursed and fell asleep. if only everyone was as happy and easy going as conrad.

pictures from michelle's fantastic-but-never-quite-long-enough visit:

i have enough of this set of pictures to keep me laughing
for years to come.

i honestly can not descibe the "protective big sister" feeling

that came over me when taking this picture; she is seriuosly

a foot away from death by violently crushing water.

easter morning service on a blanket in the park, brilliant!

under the shade of tree at a park in jacksonville.

the saga of sickness continues here in the eggert-world. i would only bore you if i were to list the symptoms and conditions and medications we've experienced and taken. currently, it's that same cold bug i blogged about a month ago: she's back. the on again, off again of good health has left things undone and unkept around here-to the point where i really don't know where to start to catch us back up. bills have been paid late and we're all out of clean towels, again. conrad is hauling ass now, crawling around like he's been doing it for years, taught classes on it, wrote a "how to" book or two on the subject. it's pretty damn exciting to watch him boogie from room to room but all that To Do of baby proofing is timely imperative now; because our house was built before infant life expectancy, actually baby proofing it has proved to be more than a chore, a magic trick. since all the flooring is either tile, old vinyl, or slickity slick hardwood, anything that is not super sturdy and heavy poses as a falling hazard. already he is pulling himself up on furniture, attempting at standing (which i imagine leads to attempting to climb). we've already had to move the coffee station into the pantry and move that shelve of pantry into one of those plastic drawer things that had kept all our glass recyclables, to which i tossed out. but then this morning jon informed me that, that isn't quite working out for him-he finds too much difficulty having to pull the coffee maker a few inches out to put the water in it. we also have to replace all our trash bins with trash bins that have lids, as conrad has demonstrated his will to discover what mommy's dirty kleenex's taste like after a few days of getting all crusty. and then there is the need for two more baby gates and a office chair that doesn't have wheels and some sort of contraption to keep conrad out of the kitchen cabinets (nothing from Target has worked yet) and something or another to hide the cords going from the middle of the wall over to the computer; it seriously is a baby proofing nightmare. and i really should be taking this time he naps to get some of this done.

as timing would have it, conrad discovered his ability in crawling and sitting up in his crib on the same day that cold bug- that had me in it's death grip- gripped conrad as well. which made for the longest attempt at getting him down for his nap, a whole hour devouted to nothing but convincing conrad sleeping when your eyes are blood shot red and your habitually yawning and your sick is way more interesting than realizing you can pull yourself up on the crib railing and throw your pacifer to the ground. and last night was no better, according to jon ( i was at work). jon said it took him a miserbale hour and half before conrad finally passed out, and not in his crib but in jon's defeated arms out in living room watching Planet Earth; and if that was where this story ended i would still postulate us to be lucky and fortunate. however, and unpleasantly, the amalgamation of a sick infant, and a sick infant who went to bed in a state of displeasure and stress, resulted in me being up every single hour last night to either rock him back to sleep or feed him back to sleep or simply put back in his pacifer. i can only say, thank God our bugs didn't doing any amaglamating and that at least i have the "energy" and dry nose to do it.

after fifteen minutes of lying in bed listening to conrad do his "i'm not tired, really i'm not. squeal-yawn-yawn." routine, followed by lou dog barking away like a ravenous beast at probably a leaf blowing in the wind, i guess a much needed nap will have to wait. two nights ago i went to bed with an annoying runny nose and now this morning i am not only still dealing with that same runny nose but also nostrils that feel like they were dipped in tabasco and eyes that feel like sand is in them and overall like the inside of a fat man's ass. the last time i was sick jon stayed home and took care of conrad while i layed on the couch wallowing; it took a day, a day of sheer wallow, but then, that next day, i was back to my cleaning, cooking, productivity obsessed self again. which, being sick, isn't desirable by any means, but the best considering my situation; this time, however, i not only have to work later in the day but this cold bug is giving me every indication she ain't going down without a fight. and all this because the other day i was at the pharmacy picking up an asthma inhaler and somehow i got into a conversation with the pharmacist on how conrad and i have only gotten sick once since he was born versus the 6-12 times my pediatrician said was normal for mothers and infants( not in day care) to get sick by the time the child is 1 years old. knock on wood the jinx only applies to me; it's virtually impossible to keep conrad sanitized from me, especially considering he has thing about putting his fingers in my mouth when he nurses, and that just this morning i caught him with one of snot drenched klennexes in his mouth. delicious, i'm sure. and now i'm waiting for doctor to call me back and tell me what if anything i can take; one of the few downfalls of breastfeeding.

there in the picture on your left, behind that adorable baby, is a patch of dead grass. see it. yes there i have grand plans for a grand garden. a garden bearing lettuce and carrots and tomato's and cilantro and basil, maybe some magical love beans too. a few weeks back i "picked up" another mom at the grocery store; we exchanged numbers in the spirit of calling each other up the next nice day to go walking together. although, playing it cool i waited a good week to call her and then last friday we finally hooked up and took the kiddos for a walk downtown and had coffee and checked out some thrift stores (great story involving conrad and her little girl, zion, i must blog about.) and planned to get a garden co-op going. i can't tell you just how excited i am at not only making a cool friend but a friend who shares my love for gardening and that quasi-hippy way of life. quasi-as i did not pay the extra $2.00 per bag for organic dirt, likewise with the seeds (really, isn't planting it yourself in your own yard ORGANIC?!?). not to mention, but she is a mom; a mom with a little girl two days older than conrad; a first time mom; a mom kinda like me. it's a match made in food 4 less, a salad in a month.

last tuesday night i started back to work; a very last of the minute sort of thing, and i wasn't prepared mentally or emotionally or milkfully. jon sat on the bed as i flipped through the undesirable collection of clothes hanging in my closet- chatting about when i would be home and what to do if he ran out of milk and conrad was loosing his shit- and all the meanwhile my heart was doing this slow break, because i knew, for the first time in almost 8 months, i wouldn't be there to give conrad his bath or read him his stories or snuggle on the bed with him before putting down in his crib and that thought was heart wrenching to me, really, really heart wrenching. and all at once it hit me and i burst into tears because i didn't think i could do it, physically, totally, inable. like the good, level headed man jon is he talked down from the ledge and gave me that boost of support and perspective to get me out the door and into my car; and there in my car i believed all he said, knowing it was short term and by next week i would only be missing two bed times instead of the four already assigned. plus, it was true, i needed to get out and mingle and make lots and lots of money. a week later, i'm glad i did. alex's (my new place of employment) seems like a great fit. i like the people i work with and they seem to like me. unlike alot of southern oregonians they seem to be more accustomed to banter and wit and sarcasms, which is my cup of tea. there is nothing more intolerable than working with a bunch of people who take themselves too seriously, except for working with a bunch of people who have chronic gas and talk to close for comfort. true story.

We finally had a break from the overcast, dreary, dismal weather this past week; cloudless skies and the sort of temperature that makes you want to roll up your long sleeves and walk barefoot through the soft cool grass. It was wonderful in every way being cooped up for X amount of months and finally being able to drag a blanket out in the front yard to lay upon could be. Conrad and I seized every possible opportunity to bask in it's greatness and it was in those moments watching him shrill with excitement as I pushed him in the infant swing at the park and doing fly baby out in the front yard where I had to slap myself at, not only my good fortune to be able to enjoy the fine weather, but to enjoy it with Conrad. Everyday is my favorite day, and it's because I get to wake up to this little thing smiling from ear to ear as he flaps uncontrollably from the excitement at seeing me. I can, with conviction, say, you haven't lived till you've had a child.

one of my favorite things ( to which i'm aware, i say too much, throwing it around like a mason with a hand full of candy on thanksgiving day, but dare i say, the one i'm about to share really rates at the top):

imagine the sounds you might here of somebody getting a deep tissue massage while downing an number 3 from arby's whilst listening to ocean sounds on a pair of headphones...that's kinda what conrad sounds like when he's really enjoying a nice warm meal on the boob, and, redundancy aside, it's one of my favorite things in life.

attention moms and baby experts

oh what to do, what to do...see, conrad loves bath time, really friggin loves it, like me with a jar of nutella and just like me with nutella, things often get a little dangerous. he has no concept that a body of water is a force to be reckon with and so will fling himself in every direction to fall into it and when i have him on his belly, soaping his baby butt, i am fighting with him to not drink the water.

i sure could use a suggestion, or another set of arms. please.

a (belated) baby shower picture:


me and marian, and conrad trying out his cowboy boots.

it's official, conrad has said his first word, and, despite my coaching and bribbery, it was Daddy. for a few weeks now he has been nothing but Da and Dah and DaDa and even the occasional Daddy (pronounced Dahdee), but it wasn't till last night that it was obviuos he knew exactly whom he was referring to when he said it; and it was exciting and thrilling and beautiful even though it wasn't Mommy.

there are other sounds and syllables and words, like Mommy. and while he has said the rare Mommy it's pretty (embarrasingly) apparent he has no idea who Mommy is-to him it's the sweet potatoes on his highchair, the rattle, the running water, the itch on his baby balls. and while i'd at least like to be number 2 in his vocabulary, it's looking like Dog might be before me. i give this defeat of importance up to the altar of motherhood, another knot on my mommy belt, right next to fugly hair and sore nipples.