I haven't blogged in....ohhhh.....forever. I have no excuse, but I'm going to attempt it again and I have a great "first" post!

Sarah and Joe Short welcomed Benjamin James Short into the world at 12:55 this afternoon. He weighed 8 lbs and was 21 inches long. If you know Sarah, you realize that an 8 pound baby is just ridiculous. I am having a hard time figuring out how he fit. Sarah is like 4'10 and probably isn't anywhere near 100 pounds unless she is several months pregnant. Her labor sounded horrendous - if I calculate it right, she was in labor for about thirty hours from the time her water broke, got Pitocin, and epidural, pushed for two and a half hours, and eventually had to have a c-section because it was an "obstructed delivery."

I haven't gotten to talk to her yet (for obvious reasons), but Joe assures me that while exhausted, both mama and baby are doing well. Since I'm currently effectively stuck in Lancaster because of stormacolypse (freezing rain, snow, regular rain, more snow, sleet etc.) I'm hoping we'll be able to get up to Madison on Saturday afternoon to meet the new guy and celebrate Christmas with Sarah, Joe, Julie, and Brad.

Looking bright eyed (I think those are mommy's eyeballs) and curious not too long after birth.

I'm pretty sure that's daddy's nose!

Meeting Auntie Julie!




Monday
Only one incident to report today. Mike had a half-eaten pizza sitting on the counter. That was his first mistake. By the time he went to eat it there was nothing left but a forelorn, empty piece of cardboard. Bodi...our sneaky counter surfer had quite the dinner this evening.


My mom sings that song from Annie whenever we're "dripping with little dogs." I am definitely surrounded this weekend! Sadly, Sarah's grandma passed away late this week (umm...August? hello!) and we've got her pups, Rusty and Rooke, until they come back on Wednesday. Here's a play by play of how everything has gone.

Friday
We are a half hour late to meet Sarah in Dodgeville. The world has turned on its head, Sarah is usually the one running behind. We get home and everyone relaxes until bedtime. I throw all five dogs into the hallway/office. Five minutes later Rooke starts barking. Bodi is in Rusty's crate and refuses to get out. I forcibly remove Bodi from the crate, shut Rooke and Rusty up in the office and attempt to sleep. Rooke is not happy about being away from home and not being in constant human contact and continues barking. Gatsby seems to think this is hilarious and joins in. After a two minute silence, I remove Rooke from the office, throw Gatsby in with Mike and take her into the guest bedroom with me. She paces for five minutes and finally settles down after I let her in bed with me.

Saturday
Rooke and I spend the early morning hours watching the thunderstorm until breakfast time. Rusty and Rooke eat their food quickly like good pups. Mine take forever and act as though I am trying to poison them. R&R decide that perhaps they need some assistance eating it and circle like vultures. Bodi yells at Rooke. She screams back and continues trying to assist him in eating breakfast. Mike and I spend most of the day running errands in Platteville. It is incredibly hot (heat index over 100) and there is no way we are taking anyone for any walk today. As the pups are all sprawled out on the floor (Rooke and Rusty on the most uncomfortable surfaces they can locate) they don't seem to mind. Everyone gets a chewy for being good. Fifteen minutes later, Bodi has collected all four chewies and is laying on them. Sometime before dinner R&R decide a good fight will break the monotany. Mike tears them off each other. No harm done. Everyone goes to sleep nicely tonight, except for Gatsby who is either a) cold b) upset or c) interested in being a lumpy mattress and insists on sleeping under me.

Sunday
Rooke decides that 8:00am is late enough to sleep in and sounds the alarm. At around 10:00 we decide everyone needs a good walk before it gets too hot. We spend fifteen minutes attempting to locate all four dogs. Rooke is under a bed. Rusty has somehow managed to get shut in the basement but doesn't let us know. Bodi and Gatsby are ready to just leave them at home and go without them. We get outside and realize that 10:00 is much too late to be walking. Temp is pushing 90 and humidity is out of control. We walk to the coffee shop. Rusty spends most of the walk glaring at me for being a mean auntie and making him walk in the heat. We get home, eat breakfast, (at this point I realize Sarah really did send Rusty's antibiotics...oops) Bodi collects the chewies again, and the thunderstorms decend. Rusty is not happy and follows me around asking me politely to please get rid of the storms. I fill Bodi's giant kong up with peanut butter and put it in Rusty's crate. Gatsby and Rooke feel this is highly unfair and attempt to convince me that they have thunderphobia too and need kongs filled with peanut butter. I'm not buying it. Around 5:30 the rain stops for a bit and I take all four for a little walk between storms. The temperature is down to 75, but the humidity is still at 91%. Ugh. We had initially planned on camping this weekend, for perhaps the first time in my life, I'm glad we didn't! As of now, we're all relaxing and waiting for the next storm to show up.



normal person's weekly chore list:
1. clean kitchen.
2. clean bathroom.
3. clean entire rest of domicile.

cleaning impaired person's weekly chore list:
1. don't get peanut butter on sheets.
- dave barry


I love my husband. He is kind, sweet, mechanically inclined, dorky, capable, good at math, has a lovely sense of humor and is pretty cute too. He also fits into the "cleaning impaired" category. After three weeks of bickering (one of the reasons we decided to get a cleaning lady twice a month) about who was going to clean out the car (it was a nasty, disgusting, pile of dog hair, dirt, and old french fries) he went out with the vacuum tonight. Fifteen minutes later he returned with a flourish. I spent the next hour and a half "helping" finish the job. Still love him though. He's worth putting up with peanut buttery sheets.


Ms. Sarah texted me at lunch today. They had their 20 week ultrasound and it's a boy! I was convinced it was a girl...so that shows what I know. Julie and I both (independently of each other, as she is in Pittsburg and I was in Richland Center all day) named him Benjamin Marie, even though his parents insist he is to be Benjamin Samuel. We've had a perfect boy baby shower theme picked out since approximately the time of Sarah's positive preggers test, and since it is a boy don't have to go back to the drawing board and come up with a theme that looks good in pink. I literally had to talk myself out of stopping at the baby store in Lancaster and buying him one of each item in stock. I can't wait to meet the little bugger!

See - August is looking up already!





July was a terrible, awful, heartbreaking month. We lost our babies. From our friends and family came news of cancer, of heart disease, of infertility, and of desperation. On cue, thunderstorms and hail ripped through Grant County and did millions of dollars of damage (though we escaped with only a cracked patio table). When it rains it pours.

August will be better. It has to be. Things can always get worse but I won’t let them. So far August has been being treated to a massage and a free lunch at La Brioche. It has been a night on the town with friends and family. It has been a long walk with the puppies, and sharing an ice cream cone with Bodi (I promise I ate what I wanted first and gave him the rest). It has been a new life kicking away in Sarah’s belly, and news of an east coast engagement. August will be better.



I haven't blogged in over a month, maybe more. We had exciting news, and it was hard to write about the little things when there was such big news to share. However, our big news turned into some of the hardest and saddest I have ever had to face, and that too, was difficult to share.

We found out that we were pregnant at the end of May. On June 17th, I had an early ultrasound and discovered that it was twins. However, at our appointment on July 10th we learned that, at 10 weeks, the babies had not made it, and I suffered a miscarriage that following weekend. It has been two of the most difficult weeks of my life, and while the bad moments are fewer every day, there are times when I don't think I will ever feel like myself again.

I am thankful for an incredible family and group of friends who literally dropped everything to be with us through this awful time, and to let us know how much we meant to them. It is amazing, and though everything seems so unfair, I realize just how lucky I am. Mike and I grieve in our own ways, but going through this together has strengthened our relationship, and I wouldn't want to go through anything with anyone else.

The good news (while not much of a comfort) is that the doctor says that there is slim chance of this happening again, and that I am healthy and recovering well. We should not have problems starting a family in the future when we feel ready.

This is a such a personal event, one that is not talked about almost at all in our society. It has been amazing to hear how practically everyone I know has been affected by miscarriage in some way - going through it themselves or having a close friend or family member suffer through it. Knowing that other women have gone through this and are happy and healthy members of society makes me realize that I will be okay too.

While it is such a personal and private event, I wanted to say something here. I want to be able to continue to blog about the little things in life, and I can't do it without discussing the big ones,even when they're painful.