Friday, January 30, 2009

Random Question.

Dear Bloggy Peeps,

I have a random, yet important question for you. I only ask because I respect your opinion.
As you may know, I am trying to name my fetus. In the past I have not bothered picking a name in advance...mostly due to the fact that Chad and I cannot ever agree. Consequently, putting off naming the baby til the last minute has always resulted in stress, frustration and ironically, name-calling.
In order to bypass this unnecessary situation, I have taken it upon myself to name this baby well in advance. Please note that Chad is not aware of my scheme. But I figure that I choose a name quick enough, he'll have plenty of time to warm up to it over the next few months.
Anyway, back to the issue at hand...the middle name. My random question is this: is it weird to give a child the name of Noelle even if she isn't born on or around Christmas? Before you answer, let me explain my reason behind choosing the name. My grandma's middle names are Norene and Belle...combined they make No-elle. I just like the idea of this baby having the name of two of my most favorite people in the world. The other option is Ashman (my middle name), or Erika.
So, there it is. Please weigh in. I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to.
You guys are true friends.

Frustrated Fetus-carrying Friend

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Happy 6th Birthday, Avery.

Six years ago today number three was born. Her birth was long awaited. Though she arrived almost a week early, it was not early enough for me (number's one and two had both come three weeks early). Finally, around midnight on the 26th I felt like something might be happening. I laid in bed for a few hours, just biding my time as I didn't want to leave for the hospital in the middle of the night (note: We were living in Sacramento at the time and had no family nearby. I did not want to have to call up our friends in the wee hours of the morning to babysit, so I just waited it out at home for a reasonable hour to come...I will not make that mistake again Finally at six, I decided it was time to wake Chad and call our friends to babysit. I remember vividly stopping by the video store to return a DVD on the way to hospital so we wouldn't be charged a late fee...another mistake I will not make.
We finally made it to the hospital and I was dilated to a six. After monitering my contractions for a half an hour, they transferred me to a delivery room. By then I was at an eight. The bright doctor broke my water and said he needed to perform a quick C-section then would be right back. Three contractions later I was in full blown labor, ready to push, with no doctor to deliver me (Please also note that this was not my regular doctor...just the guy who was on call from the practice).
For a moment things were frantic as nurses and residents tried to prepare themselves for the hasty delivery (Consequently, Avery has struggled with patience ever since. When she's ready and wants something, she wants it now).
Three pushes later, my baby "boy" was born. I say boy becuase I was certain that Avery was going to be a boy. So certain, that I didn't even bother packing a cute, pink, girly outfit.
She weighed a mere eight pounds and six ounces. Ouch! She caused substantial damage...I won't go into detail, but was so stinkin' cute that I didn't care if I would ever walk normally again. She looked like a little asian baby; granted a pale, pasty asian baby, with her full, chubby face and almondy eyes (Just FYI, my dad reminds many of Mr. Miyagi, again a pale, fair-skinned Mr. Miyagi).
We had a hard time picking a name for Avery, shocker! Mainly because we hadn't bothered picking out any girl names. One of my sister's suggested the name Avery and we were set. Her middle name was much easier to choose...Belle, after my grandma. Avery Belle; it has a nice ring to it.
The past six years with Avery has been anything but dull. She is the feisiest and spunkiest kid of the bunch...a true redhead...except that she's blonde. She is funny, smart and charming and I love the kid...attitude and all.
Avery you are my sunshine. My life without you would be bleak and dark. I love you so much. I hope you have a wonderful little Aver-cakes.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Precious Pettiskirts.

My most recent obsession: chiffon pettiskirts. I first came across one of these fluffy delights at Gardner Village(they kinda remind me of cupcakes, hmmm). It was like star crossed lovers seeing each other for the first time. I couldn't stop thinking about them (I would have bought one, except for that I am a cheapskate and would never think of spending the hellish amount they were asking for them).
Anyway, I am on a quest to figure out how to make one of these lovely skirts. Wish me luck, as I am a not a very good seamstress. I will show the finished product...if it turns out.

Monday, January 12, 2009

How did I get here?

Last night was one of those rare occurences where I found myself questioning my commitment to parenting. I know that sounds rash, but mind you, this was my thought process at three in the morning.
It all began with the dreaded sound of bare feet padding down the hallway towards my room. Number two (child number two, not potty number two) had decided to grace me with her presence. Fifteen minutes later the even more horrific sound of another set of feet (this time little, footed sleeper clad feet) could be heard padding down the hallway...again, in my general direction. Number four, somehow subconciously honed in on the "party" going on in mama's room and roused himself from slumber so as not to miss it.
For the next twenty minutes I was forced to listen to the cheerful chatter and giggling of two of my little dearies...a sound that would typically warm my heart, but not at three thirty in the morning.
Now, you may be wondering where Chad was in the middle of all this commotion. I found myself asking that same question, whilst cursing the man in my mind for leaving me all alone to deal with this dilemma. Chad was in Seattle for the whole debaucle. Hmmm, a well planned trip. It's as if he knew something was a-brewing.
To make matters worse the raquet (not sure if it was the kids joyful noises or my yelling) woke number three who then also decided to join us.
At that point I felt it a good time, since I had everyone on my bed, to explain that during the nighttime we sleep. When it is dark outside we should be the rest of the world...not keeping mama up.
Number three quickly called me out and responded "Not in China. People in China are not asleep right now".
Touche, my little lady, but now is not the time to get smart with mama.
I immediatly responded by telling the children there would be no more talking or I would set them out on the balcony in near freezing temperatures to sleep...without a blaket.
My empty threats did not work. The kids know me too well.
Finally I left the room, peacefully and calmly mind you. I would hate for you to think that I have a complete lack of self control. I retreated to the girls' room in hopes of finding some peace and quiet. As I lay there, I could hear the parade of little feet padding against the floor towards me. I tried my best to act like I was asleep, and discreetly opened one eye just to see if they were buying it. There they were, all three of them, standing over me...just peering...waiting.
Frankly, this little episode freaked the crap out of me. It reminded me of something out of Children of the Corn, or some other horror flick, where the devil children stand peacefully and serenely surveying their prey, and then suddenly and ferociously pounce.
I did not give my little ones the chance, I immediately summoned them all back to my bed...where they could be on eye level...and ordered them to lay down and be quiet. Initially, they weren't, but after an hour and a half of ridiculousness their eyes became weary and droopy, and finally...sleep.
I checked the clock and saw that I had exactly two hours before I'd have to get up to get kids off to school.
Fast forward to 6:56am...four minutes before I had to wake. BRRRRING, BRRRRING, the phone ringing startled me awake. I checked the clock and saw it was not yet seven and immediatly became panicked. I rarely ever get phone calls before seven.
I scraped myself off the bed and ran to the phone, preparing myself for tragic news. Ironically, on the other end was the sweet little voice of a little girl from Quinn's class at school asking if Quinn could play. Honestly, I was so dazed I can't remember what I told her. I vaguely remember something about karate and after school, but that's about it.
Only now is it occuring to me that it was freaking 6:56 in the morning and she was asking to play. One question, girlfriend: where are your parents?!?!?
Just FYI, she called back two more times.
I went back to the bedroom; not to sleep, but to rouse my little brood for school. Thankfully I was able to drive to the school and back without breaking any traffic laws or causing any accidents in my drousy condition.
Now, here I sit, trying to muster up the energy to get dressed and showered. If I could I would just sit at home in my PJ's all day long, but I can't. I've got a date with the dentist...mostly likely for a root canal. Just the cherry on top of what could be my longest night ever.