Should I be worried?
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Hmm...
Wondering what the bedside reading is at the Sumersquale household these days? The other night, we were both in bed reading, and I looked over to see what Jason's nose was in. It was startling enough that I took a picture. I bet you can figure out who is reading what.
Should I be worried?
Should I be worried?
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
What to Expect. . .
My two older sisters were pregnant with their first children at roughly the same time. My first niece was born in December of one year, the second was born the following February. There was understandably a lot of excitement surrounding these events, and I got swept up in it by reading one of the many copies of the pregnancy bible What to Expect When You're Expecting that were floating around our homes at the time. It is a book that both demystifies and terrifies. It's the size of a brick, and while it is generally a positive, upbeat book about the miracle of pregnancy, approximately 89% of its contents are about all the ways in which genetics, environmental factors, acts of god, and human error can wreak havoc on your childbearing experience.
I've been revisiting it (and a stack of other pregnancy books) recently, and it reminded me of a little comic I drew years ago. If feels far more relevant to me now than it did when I drew it for obvious reasons:
(click to enlarge)
(click to enlarge)
Friday, October 14, 2011
Mom&NotMom
Because I always wanted to do a blog WITH someone -- someone who actually participated, actually posted semi-regularly -- I have started a blog with my dear friend Annie Palmer.
When we became friends, Annie and I were very much alike. In the last six years or so, our paths have diverged. Read all about here. Enjoy!
When we became friends, Annie and I were very much alike. In the last six years or so, our paths have diverged. Read all about here. Enjoy!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Work-in-Progress: Do, Do Not
We've been compiling lists of things we do and do not want to do when we're parents. I'm writing them here now because it will be interesting to see how much of it we actually carry through on.
Dos:
We're also open to suggestions, so feel free to email us or utilize the comments.
Dos:
- Take lots of pictures and blog frequently. (Sorry. Seriously, though, if you don't want to hear about it, what are you doing here?)
- Keep up our baby journal. It's already about thirty pages long, and even if she never cares to read it, it will be fun for us to revisit later. I have a horrible memory, and I like the idea that I could look back on her first attempts at speech, steps, and etcs.
- Say things that are frequently annoying, such as "We never knew we could love something so much," in moderation, and sincerely.
- Try to raise a baby that turns into a child that eats a varied diet, and does not say no to trying new foods. (I know this is difficult. I also know it can happen.)
- Do not ever make my facebook profile picture my baby's face. It is MY facebook page, not the baby's.
- Do not make the baby a facebook page.
- Do not post on facebook about the baby being sick, or having a temperature, any more than necessary. (Necessary: No more than twice a year.)
- Do not get an email address that has the word "mom," "mama," or (especially) "mommy" anywhere in it. While I am sure being a mother will be the most important thing in my life personally, I'd like to maintain some public semblance of life outside of motherhood.
- Do not complain about being tired. All the time.
- Do not get a car with a DVD player. We both have many fond memories of long family trips with comic books and made-up games, that feeling of restlessness that you'll never get there, and the inadvertent meditation that happens when you stare out of the window for an hour. We still love long car rides.
We're also open to suggestions, so feel free to email us or utilize the comments.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Introducing: Carrot Baby!
Last weekend, we hosted our first-ever Friend Appreciation Party. As we have managed, one way or another, to make the last year and a half or so "all about us," and done at least two things that require gift-giving and/or shower-throwing, we decided it was time to shower our friends with some gifts and some love. The lovely and talented Chrissy recapped it briefly on her blog, here.
Speaking of lovely and talented friends (and, fairly enough, it was a night literally FILLED with them), Ms. Laura Goins pointed out something equal parts hilarious and frightening about one of the ultrasound pics we have posted on our fridge. I'd like to present to you all, Carrot Baby:
In case you're still not seeing it, I've put together this:
That's right. Carrot Baby is Delano's unfortunate womb-mate. Carrot Baby, at least in this picture, is screaming directly into poor Delano's face. Carrot Baby has no sex, no eyes, and only one appendage growing out of the middle of its chest (we'll call it an arm).
Carrot Baby no doubt tells Delano what to do sometimes. In my mind, it's something like this:
I bet they fight in there sometimes, and I bet Carrot Baby fills Delano's sweet little head with all sorts of backwoods nonsense. CAPTION CONTEST! What do YOU think Carrot Baby is saying in the picture above?
Here's hoping it's the baby on the left that comes out in just under three months now.
Speaking of lovely and talented friends (and, fairly enough, it was a night literally FILLED with them), Ms. Laura Goins pointed out something equal parts hilarious and frightening about one of the ultrasound pics we have posted on our fridge. I'd like to present to you all, Carrot Baby:
In case you're still not seeing it, I've put together this:
That's right. Carrot Baby is Delano's unfortunate womb-mate. Carrot Baby, at least in this picture, is screaming directly into poor Delano's face. Carrot Baby has no sex, no eyes, and only one appendage growing out of the middle of its chest (we'll call it an arm).
Carrot Baby no doubt tells Delano what to do sometimes. In my mind, it's something like this:
I bet they fight in there sometimes, and I bet Carrot Baby fills Delano's sweet little head with all sorts of backwoods nonsense. CAPTION CONTEST! What do YOU think Carrot Baby is saying in the picture above?
Here's hoping it's the baby on the left that comes out in just under three months now.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Take THAT, Nursery Themes!
We spent all last week and weekend cleaning out the house (read: small, one-bedroom apartment) to make room for baby. There has been some discussion from friends and family on where we intend to "put" the baby when she is born. Good news, friends: Babies are small, and, at first at least, they don't move much.
Babies, however, come with a lot of accoutrements. Bags and bags of your friends' kids' cast-off baby clothes, a bassinet, a crib, more on the way. Our closets were already stuffed to brimming.
I'd love to know how many pounds we recycled, donated, and threw out last week. My husband, it seems, has never actually gotten rid of anything. Bins of Christmas ornaments (we've never had a tree, and probably won't this year either), stacks of his high-school newspaper, eight hundred photographs of the desert, receipts, papers (upon papers, upon papers).
At any rate, we've cleared out space. We've rearranged. We've set up a nursery of sorts, in our bedroom. Next to the crib hangs a painting of Washington crossing the Delaware and a Chrissy Deiger original photograph. These were not in the "nursery themes" tabs of Target.com or Amazon. I'm not really into themes, or things matching, for that matter. Also, I like to imagine her dreams not being of cartoon monkeys, but of stalwart men, icy rivers.
We'd been worried about keeping the cats out of the crib. Turns out we inadvertently stumbled upon the trick. Don't put the mattress in, and just drape a sheet over the metal grid. I put the crib together on Sunday and then went out. When I came back, every little square of fabric had been poked in. Someone had jumped in the crib, and had some trouble getting back out. I felt so sad that I had missed it; it must have been hilarious. It must have been Vander, because Monday afternoon, I came into the bedroom, and Bureau was in there, stuck, just staring at me. She'd seen the scene on Sunday, mulled it over for a day, and decided to give it a go. Needless to say, neither one of them has gotten back into the crib since.
I had a feeling being pregnant and all would qualify as an "incredibly exciting time," especially since Jason and I have felt "ready" for parenthood for a couple of years now, but that's not even the half of it. Laying around in bed feeling the baby kick every night is a joy I could not have anticipated. She seems to know her dad's hand (I know this cannot be true; she knows nothing, only darkness, pressure, sound, movement) and sets to work whenever she feels it. Every time he feels a kick, Jason says, "Baby!" Some nights, we lay around and giggle and talk, and Jason just says, "Baby! Baby!" over and over.
It never gets old. I feel like I've been pregnant forever (entering fall, I'm realizing this is my third season since we found out the news), and I'm excited for December, but I try to remember how quickly it will seem that it went when this is all over.
Babies, however, come with a lot of accoutrements. Bags and bags of your friends' kids' cast-off baby clothes, a bassinet, a crib, more on the way. Our closets were already stuffed to brimming.
I'd love to know how many pounds we recycled, donated, and threw out last week. My husband, it seems, has never actually gotten rid of anything. Bins of Christmas ornaments (we've never had a tree, and probably won't this year either), stacks of his high-school newspaper, eight hundred photographs of the desert, receipts, papers (upon papers, upon papers).
At any rate, we've cleared out space. We've rearranged. We've set up a nursery of sorts, in our bedroom. Next to the crib hangs a painting of Washington crossing the Delaware and a Chrissy Deiger original photograph. These were not in the "nursery themes" tabs of Target.com or Amazon. I'm not really into themes, or things matching, for that matter. Also, I like to imagine her dreams not being of cartoon monkeys, but of stalwart men, icy rivers.
We'd been worried about keeping the cats out of the crib. Turns out we inadvertently stumbled upon the trick. Don't put the mattress in, and just drape a sheet over the metal grid. I put the crib together on Sunday and then went out. When I came back, every little square of fabric had been poked in. Someone had jumped in the crib, and had some trouble getting back out. I felt so sad that I had missed it; it must have been hilarious. It must have been Vander, because Monday afternoon, I came into the bedroom, and Bureau was in there, stuck, just staring at me. She'd seen the scene on Sunday, mulled it over for a day, and decided to give it a go. Needless to say, neither one of them has gotten back into the crib since.
I had a feeling being pregnant and all would qualify as an "incredibly exciting time," especially since Jason and I have felt "ready" for parenthood for a couple of years now, but that's not even the half of it. Laying around in bed feeling the baby kick every night is a joy I could not have anticipated. She seems to know her dad's hand (I know this cannot be true; she knows nothing, only darkness, pressure, sound, movement) and sets to work whenever she feels it. Every time he feels a kick, Jason says, "Baby!" Some nights, we lay around and giggle and talk, and Jason just says, "Baby! Baby!" over and over.
It never gets old. I feel like I've been pregnant forever (entering fall, I'm realizing this is my third season since we found out the news), and I'm excited for December, but I try to remember how quickly it will seem that it went when this is all over.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
We Had Our First Anniversary...
...and we got to celebrate it with a romantic work dinner. (It was actually lovely. AND it was actually our fault, for getting married on the date of where I work, 8/26. Hey, it's how we met, and, like so many things, it seemed like a good idea at the time. And it was.)
The last year has gone by so quickly. And what a big year it's been! We got married, got pregnant...well, I guess that's mostly it. Still, pretty big!
The first anniversary is paper. I knew I was making Jason a book, but I stayed mum on the topic. I wanted to him to think I'd not gotten him a gift, as I was certain he was waiting until the last minute to get me one, and then, PRESTO! All the while I'd spent weeks making him a very good-looking book. He'd be so touched, and I'd win. (Some day I'll regale you all with the story of the "Point and Click" Christmas [that involved no pointing or clicking] that I won, and that was a sweet, sweet victory.) I like to do nice things for him, I just have a weird, roundabout way of getting there.
See? Good looking! It's a bunch of drawings about all the stuff that happened to us this year. I even made a little pop-up of us in the back:
Cute! And so much better than the nothing he'd gotten me, right? I know Jason, and I KNEW his gift would be late, because part of his "process" is waiting until the last possible moment, but then...
JOKE'S ON ME, FOLKS. Once again, through his sheer sweetness and truly good-natured personality, I come out looking like the brat. (Which is fair. He is way nicer to me than I deserve. Or will ever deserve. Honestly, I still can't believe he wants to spend the rest of his life with sassy, crusty old me.)
When he left for work in the morning, I told him that if he came home with a box of crap from Acme, I was filing for divorce. (See? THAT'S my wretched sense of humor. I honestly think it's funny to say stuff like that to my husband on his way out the door.) And he came home that night, and presented me with...a box of crap from Acme... (I was right! He WAS bad at time management to the point of thoughtlessness!)
...with a false bottom. With a book HE'D made ME, all about how he's always surprising me.
The surprises, of course, are all clever and funny and paired with his really-quite-amazing drawing skills. The last one is this:
And THEN, when I turned the page, there was a little envelope, and that man had bought me the tiny, simple little antique ring I had wanted all along.
I'm an ass. It's so true. I'm mean, and I'm an ass. And I have a very pretty little ring on my finger that I do not deserve.
At this point in the story, when I retold it to my mom and my niece Mimi, 6, Mimi said, "But he did the thing you told him not to do!" And I said, "What thing?" And Mimi said, "He brought you that, you know, that box of crap!" God, she's a delight.
So, happy, happy anniversary to my dear and sweet husband Jason, who I do not deserve, who I relish calling mean names, who is often the butt of my jokes and the person I take out my daily stresses on, who I push around and then laugh at. I don't know why you signed on for this, my love, but I am sure glad you did. And I will spend the next however-many-years-I-am-on-this-planet trying, trying to be better, trailing after your example.
The last year has gone by so quickly. And what a big year it's been! We got married, got pregnant...well, I guess that's mostly it. Still, pretty big!
The first anniversary is paper. I knew I was making Jason a book, but I stayed mum on the topic. I wanted to him to think I'd not gotten him a gift, as I was certain he was waiting until the last minute to get me one, and then, PRESTO! All the while I'd spent weeks making him a very good-looking book. He'd be so touched, and I'd win. (Some day I'll regale you all with the story of the "Point and Click" Christmas [that involved no pointing or clicking] that I won, and that was a sweet, sweet victory.) I like to do nice things for him, I just have a weird, roundabout way of getting there.
See? Good looking! It's a bunch of drawings about all the stuff that happened to us this year. I even made a little pop-up of us in the back:
Cute! And so much better than the nothing he'd gotten me, right? I know Jason, and I KNEW his gift would be late, because part of his "process" is waiting until the last possible moment, but then...JOKE'S ON ME, FOLKS. Once again, through his sheer sweetness and truly good-natured personality, I come out looking like the brat. (Which is fair. He is way nicer to me than I deserve. Or will ever deserve. Honestly, I still can't believe he wants to spend the rest of his life with sassy, crusty old me.)
When he left for work in the morning, I told him that if he came home with a box of crap from Acme, I was filing for divorce. (See? THAT'S my wretched sense of humor. I honestly think it's funny to say stuff like that to my husband on his way out the door.) And he came home that night, and presented me with...a box of crap from Acme... (I was right! He WAS bad at time management to the point of thoughtlessness!)
...with a false bottom. With a book HE'D made ME, all about how he's always surprising me.
The surprises, of course, are all clever and funny and paired with his really-quite-amazing drawing skills. The last one is this:
And THEN, when I turned the page, there was a little envelope, and that man had bought me the tiny, simple little antique ring I had wanted all along.
I'm an ass. It's so true. I'm mean, and I'm an ass. And I have a very pretty little ring on my finger that I do not deserve.
At this point in the story, when I retold it to my mom and my niece Mimi, 6, Mimi said, "But he did the thing you told him not to do!" And I said, "What thing?" And Mimi said, "He brought you that, you know, that box of crap!" God, she's a delight.
So, happy, happy anniversary to my dear and sweet husband Jason, who I do not deserve, who I relish calling mean names, who is often the butt of my jokes and the person I take out my daily stresses on, who I push around and then laugh at. I don't know why you signed on for this, my love, but I am sure glad you did. And I will spend the next however-many-years-I-am-on-this-planet trying, trying to be better, trailing after your example.
Monday, July 25, 2011
How in the **** Do You NAME another HUMAN BEING?
Naming a baby just seems crazy to me. I know I will come around to it, because I have to. It's also exciting and fun, of course...but daunting. Looking to lose a few hours? Go here. You can track the popularity of ANY name for the last hundred years or so. We want a name that's not popular but not too obscure. We have a front runner. It hit its peak in 1907 when it cracked the top 100.
What does Jason think about all this? Well, this is how he's weighed in on the list of names we made a googledoc of:
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:P
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:)
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Like I said: We have a front-runner.
What does Jason think about all this? Well, this is how he's weighed in on the list of names we made a googledoc of:
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:(
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:P
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:)
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Like I said: We have a front-runner.
Friday, July 22, 2011
In Case You Missed It --
I can't imagine anyone reads this who ISN'T already facebook friends with Jason and me (and if you aren't, you should be, as that is updated much more frequently), but, in case you missed it, we found out last night that we're having a GIRL!
Jason's thought all along that it's a boy. I did at first, and then I took this very laissez faire attitude, you know, it could be either; I was getting feelings both ways, none of them particularly strong. Well, it became clear that, unknown to myself, I too had been thinking of little Delano as a boy, because last night, this happened:
Ultrasound tech: This is the butt...and...are you ready?
Us, in unison: Yes!
UT: It's a girl!
Us, in unison: REALLY??
To be honest, it was surprisingly surprising. And then I realized that all the names I'd been thinking about were boy names, and all the clothes I'd been thinking about were boy clothes. It felt exciting and insane that very suddenly we were going to have a daughter. Truth be told, our preliminary girl name list is MUCH longer (and, quite honestly, better). And -- I'm saying it for the first time of many, I'm sure, right now -- as long as I can steer people away from too much pink and silly pattern and over-ruffled and wordy (that's right, please don't buy the baby "Daddy's little rocker!" onesies; I find it somehow weird to put words on a baby), I think dressing a girl will be fun. (I've been doing it my own whole life, and throughout the lives of my many beloved nieces.)
This morning, I woke up, and I can quite honestly say I've never been so excited about anything in my life. And those of you who know me KNOW that I'm excited, like, A LOT. I started thinking about raising a kick-ass girl, and -- I will later shake my head at having said this, I'm sure -- but I feel like I can do that! And I started thinking of all the girls/women I know who are the oldest in the family (I'm the youngest, and my brother the oldest), and they are ALL kick-ass! Furthermore: The nieces are pleased that it will be another girl joining them at the Niece Sleepovers, my mom and I are excited about adding a fourth generation to our lady-Oscar-Night tradition, all the Sumerton women I know are pretty incredible, and I have heard that girls are the ones who take care of you when you're old (and as we have yet to start a 401K, that will be helpful).
So! Pictures! Here she is:
She has eye sockets, and a spine, and kidneys and stuff! Her legs are flipped over her head, like a little yogi (which seems fitting, as both of her parents have been going to yoga weekly since before she was conceived). Her mouth moves (we saw it!).
More soon! Thanks, by the way, for all the love, you guys. It has felt really great to have so many people so happy for us. We're pretty sure we have the best, most supportive friends in the world (you know how I love a superlative -- especially when I really mean it!).
Jason's thought all along that it's a boy. I did at first, and then I took this very laissez faire attitude, you know, it could be either; I was getting feelings both ways, none of them particularly strong. Well, it became clear that, unknown to myself, I too had been thinking of little Delano as a boy, because last night, this happened:
Ultrasound tech: This is the butt...and...are you ready?
Us, in unison: Yes!
UT: It's a girl!
Us, in unison: REALLY??
To be honest, it was surprisingly surprising. And then I realized that all the names I'd been thinking about were boy names, and all the clothes I'd been thinking about were boy clothes. It felt exciting and insane that very suddenly we were going to have a daughter. Truth be told, our preliminary girl name list is MUCH longer (and, quite honestly, better). And -- I'm saying it for the first time of many, I'm sure, right now -- as long as I can steer people away from too much pink and silly pattern and over-ruffled and wordy (that's right, please don't buy the baby "Daddy's little rocker!" onesies; I find it somehow weird to put words on a baby), I think dressing a girl will be fun. (I've been doing it my own whole life, and throughout the lives of my many beloved nieces.)
This morning, I woke up, and I can quite honestly say I've never been so excited about anything in my life. And those of you who know me KNOW that I'm excited, like, A LOT. I started thinking about raising a kick-ass girl, and -- I will later shake my head at having said this, I'm sure -- but I feel like I can do that! And I started thinking of all the girls/women I know who are the oldest in the family (I'm the youngest, and my brother the oldest), and they are ALL kick-ass! Furthermore: The nieces are pleased that it will be another girl joining them at the Niece Sleepovers, my mom and I are excited about adding a fourth generation to our lady-Oscar-Night tradition, all the Sumerton women I know are pretty incredible, and I have heard that girls are the ones who take care of you when you're old (and as we have yet to start a 401K, that will be helpful).
So! Pictures! Here she is:
She has eye sockets, and a spine, and kidneys and stuff! Her legs are flipped over her head, like a little yogi (which seems fitting, as both of her parents have been going to yoga weekly since before she was conceived). Her mouth moves (we saw it!).
More soon! Thanks, by the way, for all the love, you guys. It has felt really great to have so many people so happy for us. We're pretty sure we have the best, most supportive friends in the world (you know how I love a superlative -- especially when I really mean it!).
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Sex Day! & Go Ahead and Touch It!
Friends, tomorrow we find out the sex of our baby. Today, at 19 weeks, it* is six inches long from head to rump. Jason and I have decided that, whichever way it goes tomorrow, we are going to feel really, super excited and a tiny, little bit disappointed.
At any rate, this is your LAST CHANCE to say what type of baby is growing inside me. You have fifty-fifty odds, which, all things considered, is not too bad. I've had a lot of people seem pretty certain that they know. For example, Chrissy D put her hands on my belly the day before her birthday and said, "Girl. It's a girl." She could not have said it more emphatically. She said it as though she were the ultrasound technician and she was delivering the news. This has happened on multiple occasions with multiple people. I find it funny and charming.
You know what else? I LIKE when people touch my belly, so go ahead and do it! I know this is supposed to be a preggo-no-no, but I enjoy it. And I'll tell you why. Because it feels so WEIRD. It feels so...FIRM. It seems like it should be mushy or something, but it's just this big, firm belly. And -- you guys -- there is a human baby growing in there!
Or is there? Take our poll, just for fun! Everyone likes a poll, right? (And yes, you can pick a gender AND say it's a robot.) Until tomorrow, I bid you leave. I have to get back to eating every piece of food placed within a fifty-foot radius of me. (It tries to be sneaky and hide, but I can sniff it out.)
* Hooray! This is the last time I'll have to refer to poor little Delano as "it."
At any rate, this is your LAST CHANCE to say what type of baby is growing inside me. You have fifty-fifty odds, which, all things considered, is not too bad. I've had a lot of people seem pretty certain that they know. For example, Chrissy D put her hands on my belly the day before her birthday and said, "Girl. It's a girl." She could not have said it more emphatically. She said it as though she were the ultrasound technician and she was delivering the news. This has happened on multiple occasions with multiple people. I find it funny and charming.
You know what else? I LIKE when people touch my belly, so go ahead and do it! I know this is supposed to be a preggo-no-no, but I enjoy it. And I'll tell you why. Because it feels so WEIRD. It feels so...FIRM. It seems like it should be mushy or something, but it's just this big, firm belly. And -- you guys -- there is a human baby growing in there!
Or is there? Take our poll, just for fun! Everyone likes a poll, right? (And yes, you can pick a gender AND say it's a robot.) Until tomorrow, I bid you leave. I have to get back to eating every piece of food placed within a fifty-foot radius of me. (It tries to be sneaky and hide, but I can sniff it out.)
* Hooray! This is the last time I'll have to refer to poor little Delano as "it."
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