Fun friends - the other totally essential element to an incredibly success co-ed baby shower! Thank you so much to EVERYONE who was there!
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Baby Bonanza - Pictures
We are so grateful for all of our friends and family members that came to Baby Bonanza, and I have ALL of these great pictures of people who were there, but they didn't really fit into my initial Baby Bonanza post, so I am dedicating this post to pictures of many of the people who helped make our baby shower so incredibly fun. (And just because you're not pictured doesn't mean we don't love you too!!!)
Fun friends - the other totally essential element to an incredibly success co-ed baby shower! Thank you so much to EVERYONE who was there!
Fun friends - the other totally essential element to an incredibly success co-ed baby shower! Thank you so much to EVERYONE who was there!
Baby Bonanza! - A Co-ed Baby Shower
June 11th (yes, that's right! 6 months ago!) was the first official Baby Bonanza. Just what is a Baby Bonanza? Well, I would like to explain by taking the description straight out of the program that was distributed to guests. (That's right, there was a program.)
The celebration known as "Baby Bonanza" originated in the Mighty Alleghenies, and dates to the earlier part of this month. In defiance of the more traditional gender-segregationist celebrations, the Baby Bonanza incorporated both male and female members of the community, and typically had a greater focus on jubilant revelry and celebration, and a lesser focus on sitting politely for 3 hours.
Anyway, true to form - for us at least - we decided that we wanted to do this baby shower thing our own way. First of all, it would be coed. DH is a part of this baby just as much as I am, and he should get to celebrate and be celebrated in much the same way. Additionally, although we had offers by many family members to host showers outside of Pittsburgh, we wanted a way to bring our Pittsburgh friends together as well. So, DH decided that he would throw the shower for me, although obviously we all know that I was integral in the planning as well.
So you think you want to throw a co-ed shower for yourself or a loved one? Here are the integral pieces to a successful Baby Bonanza.
1. An Awesome Custom Invite
We designed our own invites and had them printed on magnets. We went with the "Baby-Que" (bar-b-que) theme, which I enjoyed a great deal. And of course, since we think that our faces should always grace everyone's refrigerators, we put our baby pictures on the invite.
2. Decorations
There's no reason to be afraid of having a few classical baby shower touches, even at a coed shower. It's still a party after all, and it's fun to decorate! We like to do traditional with a twist, so we still had baby themed balloons, a traditional gift table, and of course, a giant baby-shower duck sign stuck into the mulch at the front of our house.
This got us quite a few horn honks from cars driving by. I loved it.
3. Food
No dainty cucumber sandwiches or petite fours here. We went with some classic party food. Hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken, baked ziti, chips and salsa, and of course cake. We also ordered an enormous tray of soft pretzels aka BEST IDEA EVER. They were amazing.
We loosely ran with the duck theme, for a number of reasons, including 1. it was the theme at my first shower, 2. we had a lot of leftover ducks, 3. the giant yard sign just happened to have a duck on it, and 4. I loved ducks as a teenager.
4. Alcohol
And lots of it. This was the hardest part of this type of shower for me. Everyone else drinking and enjoying it while I just watched...Fortunately I was so busy most of the time I didn't really notice.
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| Ugh. I look rather large in this photo. |
We had a 1/2 keg of beer, which we put in the wheelbarrow when it started pouring 10 minutes after the part was supposed to start, and it remained there for the rest of the night. Keg in wheelbarrow is a genius idea. People don't need to bend over to fill their drinks, and the keg became highly mobile. Anyway, it was kicked in less than 6 hours (and to think we didn't even think we'd finish it!).
We also had lots of liquor for mixed drinks. I made a drink menu, but after the rain-out I forgot to do things like pick mint for the mojitos so most people either just drank beer or made their own concoctions.
5. Games
This is where tradition really went to the wayside. Traditional baby shower games are mostly no-fun. They're fine for a traditional shower, but we had a very different crowd of people. So we went with fun, all ages, skill-based outdoor games. Think tail-gating activities. Anyway, we created a full bracket, pre-matched all attendees with a partner that they didn't know, and then had rounds of games.
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| The bracket, stuck to the hood of a car with invite magnets |
Round 1 - Bean Bags/Corn Hole
Round 2 - Ladder Golf
Round 3 - Beer Pong (beer drinking optional)
You had to win each round in order to advance, so the only game that every played was corn hole.
The partnering thing worked out way better than we had originally thought it would. Our idea was that some people were more experienced with playing one or all of these games, and we didn't want one particular power couple taking home all of the prizes. By splitting up couples and giving everyone a new, random partner, talent was spread out and it really evened the playing field. On top of that, our guests are really great about getting to know new people and no one seemed pissed to be paired up with someone other than the person they came with. Even now, our friends still refer to people from our party as "the girl that was my partner at the baby shower" or something along those lines. Love it.
5. Awesome Prizes
If you want people to have fun and be competitive at your games, you have to give them incentive to do so. My sister made amazing prizes, which were appropriately adult, coed, and barbque themed.
6. Manly Gift Opening Time
For some reason, everyone thinks that the woman should open the baby shower gifts. Umm... why??? Again, the husband/man had just as much to do with this baby as the woman. Why shouldn't they open gifts?
Want to get your man interested in opening baby shower gifts? First, give him a few drinks. This always makes them more willing to do something they might ordinarily be self-conscious about.
Second, set him up in a manly location, such as the back of your garage. Men like to be surrounded by their tools and handiwork.
Third, take turns on the gift opening, and if you want to make it really interesting, try to have him identify everything that he opens.
And if you want to make it even more interesting than that, have everyone at the party "take a drink" everytime he identifies something as a "onesie," because that's what he'll always guess, and it's almost NEVER a onesie.
Conclusion:
We love, LOVE, LOVED our Baby Bonanza co-ed shower. It was a great way to celebrate Baby Hartman, bring all of our friends together in one place, and make it gender inclusive. We've since had friends tell us that they used our baby shower as the inspiration for other showers that they were planning, or had people tell us that they want their future baby showers to be just like ours! :o) Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so I love it.
We had two more baby showers later in the summer that also followed the Baby Bonanza theme, and I'll be sure to post about them as well! (Although you know, it will probably be another two or more months before I get around to that...)
A Boy and His Dog
During my first bridal shower, my sister had everyone write something down on an "advice" card. One of the advice givers said, "Don't forget Murphy - he still needs love too!"
At the time I thought, "Pshaw! How could we ever forget about Murphy!?!? He's our baby dog!" I truly believed that we would easily and effortlessly be able to give equal amounts of loving attention to both our baby and our dog.
But now I get it. I get why people say that your dog becomes "just a dog" after you have a baby. I get why people are worried or cautious when they bring a baby home from the hospital for the first time.
Murphy was used to being "top dog." He has been the sole object of our affection for the past 6 years. Then, all of a sudden there was this tiny little creature that needed way more attention than we ever thought possible.
We would lay EH on the floor for "tummy time" and Murphy thought that was play time. He would paw at our hands to get us to pet him, or bring his alien toy to us to throw. We tried to give him attention while helping him to understand that he could not treat the baby the same way that he treats us. He seemed to understand this from the very beginning and he never did anything to hurt EH. (In the picture above I assure you that he didn't scratch EH at all.)
Then there was the noise. One of the first nights that we had EH home we forgot to put Murphy in his crate at bedtime, so he had the run of the house, and was in fact closed out of our bedroom where he usually sleeps. When EH started crying in the middle of the night and the noise was amplified by the monitor in the living room, Murphy started barking at the monitor like a maniac. I'm pretty sure he thought that someone was breaking in. It was hilarious in one of those I'm-so-exhausted-everything-is-funny sort of ways.
Murph's jealous of EH was obvious from the beginning. He could not understand why we were laying out these soft fluffy blankets and pillows and telling him that he wasn't allowed to lay on them. At some point we relaxed a little on the refusal to let Murphy touch EH's things, as we realized that we were not going to be able to shelter him from dog fur forever. We draw the line at puppy kisses though. At least for right now.
The truth is, Murphy is struggling to find his place in this new family, where he is no longer the only creature vying for our affection. But he's finding his place. He understands that EH is here to stay, and he's gradually showing some interest in him, usually in his oh-so-dog way of sniffing EH's butt. Seriously.
He is drawn to all things that belong to EH - his boppy pillow, his burp cloths, his blankets - and it's almost as if he things that if he spends more time around EH's things then maybe we'll spend more time with him. As life with a newborn becomes life with a three-month-old and things are finally starting to calm down, we are finding that we have more time to spend with Murphy and even though it's usually more stressful than it's worth, we've started taking him on our walks again. (We stopped taking him for awhile because he's so mean when he sees other dogs that he was an embarrassment.)
One thing hasn't changed though, and that's that Murphy is still an amazingly good dog. I'm so grateful that we never had to be worried about him accidentally doing something to EH - we were cautious, but never worried. It's as if he sensed that this new little being was something that needed to be treated with care and caution, and even though he's definitely jealous, he's jealous in a mostly gentle, respectful way.
These first couple of months with EH were soooo hard, but I'm finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I absolutely love and adore every single member of our little family of four, and I can't wait to see where we go from here.
At the time I thought, "Pshaw! How could we ever forget about Murphy!?!? He's our baby dog!" I truly believed that we would easily and effortlessly be able to give equal amounts of loving attention to both our baby and our dog.
But now I get it. I get why people say that your dog becomes "just a dog" after you have a baby. I get why people are worried or cautious when they bring a baby home from the hospital for the first time.
Murphy was used to being "top dog." He has been the sole object of our affection for the past 6 years. Then, all of a sudden there was this tiny little creature that needed way more attention than we ever thought possible.
We would lay EH on the floor for "tummy time" and Murphy thought that was play time. He would paw at our hands to get us to pet him, or bring his alien toy to us to throw. We tried to give him attention while helping him to understand that he could not treat the baby the same way that he treats us. He seemed to understand this from the very beginning and he never did anything to hurt EH. (In the picture above I assure you that he didn't scratch EH at all.)
Then there was the noise. One of the first nights that we had EH home we forgot to put Murphy in his crate at bedtime, so he had the run of the house, and was in fact closed out of our bedroom where he usually sleeps. When EH started crying in the middle of the night and the noise was amplified by the monitor in the living room, Murphy started barking at the monitor like a maniac. I'm pretty sure he thought that someone was breaking in. It was hilarious in one of those I'm-so-exhausted-everything-is-funny sort of ways.
Murph's jealous of EH was obvious from the beginning. He could not understand why we were laying out these soft fluffy blankets and pillows and telling him that he wasn't allowed to lay on them. At some point we relaxed a little on the refusal to let Murphy touch EH's things, as we realized that we were not going to be able to shelter him from dog fur forever. We draw the line at puppy kisses though. At least for right now.
The truth is, Murphy is struggling to find his place in this new family, where he is no longer the only creature vying for our affection. But he's finding his place. He understands that EH is here to stay, and he's gradually showing some interest in him, usually in his oh-so-dog way of sniffing EH's butt. Seriously.
He is drawn to all things that belong to EH - his boppy pillow, his burp cloths, his blankets - and it's almost as if he things that if he spends more time around EH's things then maybe we'll spend more time with him. As life with a newborn becomes life with a three-month-old and things are finally starting to calm down, we are finding that we have more time to spend with Murphy and even though it's usually more stressful than it's worth, we've started taking him on our walks again. (We stopped taking him for awhile because he's so mean when he sees other dogs that he was an embarrassment.)
One thing hasn't changed though, and that's that Murphy is still an amazingly good dog. I'm so grateful that we never had to be worried about him accidentally doing something to EH - we were cautious, but never worried. It's as if he sensed that this new little being was something that needed to be treated with care and caution, and even though he's definitely jealous, he's jealous in a mostly gentle, respectful way.
These first couple of months with EH were soooo hard, but I'm finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I absolutely love and adore every single member of our little family of four, and I can't wait to see where we go from here.
Oh, Come on....
I've talked at length about how stressful August was for us. I was looking forward to September 1st for awhile now - a new month, a new start, and hopefully a lot of quiet.
But then September 1st came and I realized about mid-morning that our water wasn't working right. I flushed the toilet an hour later and the water stopped running altogether. I tried to wash my hands - nothing. Just air coming out of the faucet.
Great. September is starting off with a bang.
We have well water, which is super annoying and I absolutely hate it, particularly because the people across the street and the people up the street all have city water, but we're just a little too far down and so we're stuck with well water. Our well water sucks. It's chock full of iron and the iron build up clogs everything it comes into contact with. Our toilet and tub is stained with a layer of nasty brown filth that's nearly impossible to get rid of. We spends hundreds and hundreds of dollars each year on various water filters - UV light filters, rope filters, weird chemical filters that involved a beet-juice colored powder that stains everything it comes into contact with. Seriously, our water goes through so many filters it should sparkle like diamonds.
But it doesn't. It's brown - or sometimes purple, if the iron filter malfunctions - and today, it decided that it doesn't want to come into our house anymore.
I was lucky enough to get a guy to come out within a couple hours of realizing the problem. After over an hour of trying to figure out the problem, it turns out the motor in the well is bad. The motor in our 105 foot deep well. So I think we're looking at a repair bill of at least $500, probably a lot more. But what can you do when you have a newborn baby, lots of dirty diapers, dirty dishes and a toilet that needs flushing??? You suck it up and pay whatever you need to pay to have the problem fixed.
I've said this before and I will say it again and again and again a thousand times over - RENT, people!! Homeowner-ship is for the birds!!!
(And if you're going to insist on buying a house, at least make sure it has public water and public sewage!)
But then September 1st came and I realized about mid-morning that our water wasn't working right. I flushed the toilet an hour later and the water stopped running altogether. I tried to wash my hands - nothing. Just air coming out of the faucet.
Great. September is starting off with a bang.
We have well water, which is super annoying and I absolutely hate it, particularly because the people across the street and the people up the street all have city water, but we're just a little too far down and so we're stuck with well water. Our well water sucks. It's chock full of iron and the iron build up clogs everything it comes into contact with. Our toilet and tub is stained with a layer of nasty brown filth that's nearly impossible to get rid of. We spends hundreds and hundreds of dollars each year on various water filters - UV light filters, rope filters, weird chemical filters that involved a beet-juice colored powder that stains everything it comes into contact with. Seriously, our water goes through so many filters it should sparkle like diamonds.
But it doesn't. It's brown - or sometimes purple, if the iron filter malfunctions - and today, it decided that it doesn't want to come into our house anymore.
I was lucky enough to get a guy to come out within a couple hours of realizing the problem. After over an hour of trying to figure out the problem, it turns out the motor in the well is bad. The motor in our 105 foot deep well. So I think we're looking at a repair bill of at least $500, probably a lot more. But what can you do when you have a newborn baby, lots of dirty diapers, dirty dishes and a toilet that needs flushing??? You suck it up and pay whatever you need to pay to have the problem fixed.
I've said this before and I will say it again and again and again a thousand times over - RENT, people!! Homeowner-ship is for the birds!!!
(And if you're going to insist on buying a house, at least make sure it has public water and public sewage!)
A Hard Week and a Sad Good-bye
I have alluded at various points that this summer has been very hectic for us, and that it's involved a lot of travel. I didn't get into too much detail at the time, but part of the reason for all of that travel is that DH's mom was fighting an intense battle with cancer, and we tried to visit her as often as we possibly could.
We went there again this past weekend, as she was not doing well and was admitted to the hospital.
Yesterday afternoon, shortly after 4 p.m., she passed away surrounded by her sons and siblings and other loved ones. DH was holding her hand the entire time.
I had just left a few minutes earlier to return back to Pittsburgh, so I was not there. I have a lot of guilt about that, but know that ultimately there was nothing else that I could have done, other than to be there to support my husband and his family. I had a chance to say my final goodbye, as we all knew that the end was very near. Actually, I didn't quite say good-bye - I couldn't find it in me, so instead I told her I would see her later. I'm not sure why I got so hung up on the actual good-bye part, but nonetheless I am glad that we got to spend so much time with her in her final days, and I am so glad that DH was able to be there with her at the end. She knew that she was loved by everyone there.
Obviously the past week or so has been really hard for DH and I. Last week we found out that our baby is definitely breech and we were forced to make a difficult decision regarding whether we wanted to try a manual procedure to try to flip the baby, or to schedule a c-section instead. We felt pressured to make a decision quickly, since time is of the essence now. After some follow-up conversations with the doctors, and their belief that it is relatively unlikely that the baby is going to turn based on how big they believe him to be and the fact that everything is very tight and compact in this uterus of mine, we decided to go ahead and schedule a c-section. All of this was happening while DH was receiving phone calls about the declining health of his mom, and he was torn between staying with me and going with her.
We were at peace with the decision to move forward with the c-section, and we decided to attend the child birthing class that we were scheduled for on Saturday, with plans to then immediately leave for Delaware to see his mom. The child birth class was a severe disappointment and we left halfway through. We do not plan to attend day 2 of the session this upcoming weekend. We hopped into the car and left for Delaware, and in retrospect, I am really glad that we made all of the decisions that we did.
DH got to spend some quality alone time with his mom. Although he only had a handful of lucid minutes to have a conversation with her (she was asleep most of the time), he was able to fill her in on the developments regarding her first grandchild, and he got the chance to share our front runner names with her. There were many tears.
It breaks my heart a thousand times over that she will never have the opportunity to meet her grandchildren - she would have been an amazing grandmother. I know that she wanted so badly to be able to hang on long enough to be able to meet him..... but now we know it simply wasn't meant to be.
On the drive home yesterday I couldn't stop crying. I went through about a thousand napkins because I quickly ran out of tissues. It was pouring down rain and between the rain on my windshield and the tears in my eyes I'm not sure how I could see straight. His mom was too young, and it was too early for her to go. I struggle with how cruel the universe can be, making a young man go through losing his mom way before her time, a mere 17 days before the birth of her first grandson.
It sucks. All of it sucks.
And yet life must go on, somehow. The circle of life could not be more evident to me, as I am kicked from the inside by my new little baby boy while I try to swallow the huge lump in my throat that just won't seem to go away. He will never get to know his Grandma Hartman. Although we will do our best to make sure that he knows her through pictures and stories and the legacy that she's left behind with her own son, it will never be the same as it would be if he could know her for the amazing woman that she was.
We all knew that this time would come.... was coming... would probably be here soon. But no matter how much you mentally prepare yourself for the end, no matter how many times you remind yourself that she is in a better place now, that she is no longer suffering, and that she was loved immensely up until and beyond her last breath, it doesn't make it any easier. No amount of words will ever convince me that it was her time to go. It just isn't fair.
She raised three amazing sons and she will live on through them in ways that I'm sure she could never have imagined. I have never before seen such a bond between boys and their mom, boys who are strong and tough and independent and yet who are not afraid to show emotion or shed tears and who let their love for their mom just pour out of them in ways that leaves nothing unsaid. If my own son loves me with even just half of the intensity and devotion that DH loved his mom, I will know that I did something right, and I will die a happy woman.
Just like I know his mom did....
In loving memory.
We went there again this past weekend, as she was not doing well and was admitted to the hospital.
Yesterday afternoon, shortly after 4 p.m., she passed away surrounded by her sons and siblings and other loved ones. DH was holding her hand the entire time.
I had just left a few minutes earlier to return back to Pittsburgh, so I was not there. I have a lot of guilt about that, but know that ultimately there was nothing else that I could have done, other than to be there to support my husband and his family. I had a chance to say my final goodbye, as we all knew that the end was very near. Actually, I didn't quite say good-bye - I couldn't find it in me, so instead I told her I would see her later. I'm not sure why I got so hung up on the actual good-bye part, but nonetheless I am glad that we got to spend so much time with her in her final days, and I am so glad that DH was able to be there with her at the end. She knew that she was loved by everyone there.
Obviously the past week or so has been really hard for DH and I. Last week we found out that our baby is definitely breech and we were forced to make a difficult decision regarding whether we wanted to try a manual procedure to try to flip the baby, or to schedule a c-section instead. We felt pressured to make a decision quickly, since time is of the essence now. After some follow-up conversations with the doctors, and their belief that it is relatively unlikely that the baby is going to turn based on how big they believe him to be and the fact that everything is very tight and compact in this uterus of mine, we decided to go ahead and schedule a c-section. All of this was happening while DH was receiving phone calls about the declining health of his mom, and he was torn between staying with me and going with her.
We were at peace with the decision to move forward with the c-section, and we decided to attend the child birthing class that we were scheduled for on Saturday, with plans to then immediately leave for Delaware to see his mom. The child birth class was a severe disappointment and we left halfway through. We do not plan to attend day 2 of the session this upcoming weekend. We hopped into the car and left for Delaware, and in retrospect, I am really glad that we made all of the decisions that we did.
DH got to spend some quality alone time with his mom. Although he only had a handful of lucid minutes to have a conversation with her (she was asleep most of the time), he was able to fill her in on the developments regarding her first grandchild, and he got the chance to share our front runner names with her. There were many tears.
It breaks my heart a thousand times over that she will never have the opportunity to meet her grandchildren - she would have been an amazing grandmother. I know that she wanted so badly to be able to hang on long enough to be able to meet him..... but now we know it simply wasn't meant to be.
On the drive home yesterday I couldn't stop crying. I went through about a thousand napkins because I quickly ran out of tissues. It was pouring down rain and between the rain on my windshield and the tears in my eyes I'm not sure how I could see straight. His mom was too young, and it was too early for her to go. I struggle with how cruel the universe can be, making a young man go through losing his mom way before her time, a mere 17 days before the birth of her first grandson.
It sucks. All of it sucks.
And yet life must go on, somehow. The circle of life could not be more evident to me, as I am kicked from the inside by my new little baby boy while I try to swallow the huge lump in my throat that just won't seem to go away. He will never get to know his Grandma Hartman. Although we will do our best to make sure that he knows her through pictures and stories and the legacy that she's left behind with her own son, it will never be the same as it would be if he could know her for the amazing woman that she was.
We all knew that this time would come.... was coming... would probably be here soon. But no matter how much you mentally prepare yourself for the end, no matter how many times you remind yourself that she is in a better place now, that she is no longer suffering, and that she was loved immensely up until and beyond her last breath, it doesn't make it any easier. No amount of words will ever convince me that it was her time to go. It just isn't fair.
She raised three amazing sons and she will live on through them in ways that I'm sure she could never have imagined. I have never before seen such a bond between boys and their mom, boys who are strong and tough and independent and yet who are not afraid to show emotion or shed tears and who let their love for their mom just pour out of them in ways that leaves nothing unsaid. If my own son loves me with even just half of the intensity and devotion that DH loved his mom, I will know that I did something right, and I will die a happy woman.
Just like I know his mom did....
In loving memory.
The Hospital Wedding
Sometimes it seems like life just doesn't play fair. And we are stuck to deal with it. There's no one that we can "tattle" to, "he's not playing fair!" - we just have to make the most of it
We knew that DH's mom would have to have surgery a few weeks before DH's brother's wedding in Kentucky. We were all so hopeful that she would be feeling good enough afterwards that she would be able to make the trip. But one week and one day before the wedding, it was seemed pretty likely that this was going to be one of those "no fair" moments.
So with a day's notice, DH's brother started putting together plans to host a wedding ceremony in the hospital where his mom was staying. We found out on a Thursday night that we would be making the trip that weekend. I was asked to be an impromtu bridesmaid. DH wrote a best man speech on the car ride there (with help from his clever and witty wife, of course.) Everyone chipped in, did their own part, and somehow one of the nicest wedding ceremonies we've ever attended came as a result.
This link is to a video that DH put together of the event. It's 8 minutes long, but if you have the time, I highly recommend watching it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sDJRKIjEso&feature=player_embedded
There was food, and even a fancy wedding cake made by one of their cousins.
Speeches by the bride and groom....
And speeches by the best men.
There were even first dances and mother/son dances....
DH got to dance with the bride.
Their mom looked amazing. Seriously, would you guess from the picture above that she was a patient in a hospital?!?!? Not a chance....
Life definitely isn't always fair. But sometimes it takes those moments to make us realize what really matters - family. You can have a wedding in a hospital or the fanciest venue this side of the Mississippi but what really makes it special and meaningful are the people that are there and the emotions that are flowing. The emotions were definitely flowing at this event and although it doesn't really translate through the video, there were definitely some moist eyes during that ceremony. It was really beautiful.
Oh, and I'm pretty sure that pregnant bridesmaids in kelly green dresses are going to be all the rage for 2012. You just wait and see.
We knew that DH's mom would have to have surgery a few weeks before DH's brother's wedding in Kentucky. We were all so hopeful that she would be feeling good enough afterwards that she would be able to make the trip. But one week and one day before the wedding, it was seemed pretty likely that this was going to be one of those "no fair" moments.
So with a day's notice, DH's brother started putting together plans to host a wedding ceremony in the hospital where his mom was staying. We found out on a Thursday night that we would be making the trip that weekend. I was asked to be an impromtu bridesmaid. DH wrote a best man speech on the car ride there (with help from his clever and witty wife, of course.) Everyone chipped in, did their own part, and somehow one of the nicest wedding ceremonies we've ever attended came as a result.
This link is to a video that DH put together of the event. It's 8 minutes long, but if you have the time, I highly recommend watching it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sDJRKIjEso&feature=player_embedded
There was food, and even a fancy wedding cake made by one of their cousins.
Speeches by the bride and groom....
And speeches by the best men.
They take their roles as best men very seriously
There were even first dances and mother/son dances....
DH got to dance with the bride.
Mom and her three sons
Their mom looked amazing. Seriously, would you guess from the picture above that she was a patient in a hospital?!?!? Not a chance....
Life definitely isn't always fair. But sometimes it takes those moments to make us realize what really matters - family. You can have a wedding in a hospital or the fanciest venue this side of the Mississippi but what really makes it special and meaningful are the people that are there and the emotions that are flowing. The emotions were definitely flowing at this event and although it doesn't really translate through the video, there were definitely some moist eyes during that ceremony. It was really beautiful.
Oh, and I'm pretty sure that pregnant bridesmaids in kelly green dresses are going to be all the rage for 2012. You just wait and see.
My Doctor Called Me a Fatty
At my 27 week appointment, my doctor more or less told me that I was a fatty. I was simultaneously offended and worried. First of all, of course I'm fat - I'm pregnant! Leave a girl alone! But of course, I did gain about 22 pounds since December, which is definitely on the high end of the "recommended" spectrum.
I think the weight issue with pregnant women is such a touchy subject. On one hand, pregnancy should not give you a "get out of jail free" card to eat whatever you want. On the other hand, the emotional, psychological, and physical changes associated with pregnancy are challenging and for many, eating helps them to cope. I'm somewhere in between. I don't necessarily eat whatever the hell I want, but sometimes - particularly when I'm out with others, who are drinking or doing other things that I can't do - food is all I have. While everyone else is holding a drink, I can hold a (high calorie) lemonade, or an appetizer. Or perhaps something sweet. I'm an extreme introvert, and social situations can be exhausting for me. Drinking used to help me relax but that is gone and I am painfully aware (perhaps overly so) of my awkwardness.
Exercise is also hard. Up until about the 20 week mark I was still jogging at least 3 nights a week on the treadmill. But then my skin started stretching and my belly bounced up and down in ways that made me think my skin was going to tear. I could have gone to walking, but I'm not really a walker, and so I just didn't. Exercise left my life while the increased eating remained, which brings me to present day, and my doctor calling me a fatty.
To be fair to myself, this particular doctor is relentless about his nagging on women regarding weight gain. None of the other doctors that I've met with have had any concerns about my weight. I suppose in some ways I should be thankful that he's watching out for me, and keeping my health in mind. But on the other hand I just want him to back off, since clearly his comment has been weighing heavily on my mind.
I know that plenty of women have gained 30, 40, 50, or even more pounds during their pregnancies, and quite successfully lost that weight after the baby was born. I just worry that if I let myself go now, I'll never get it back. Or that "getting it back" will be an even harder, more miserable process than I anticipate it will already be. No one has ever said that taking care of an infant is easy, and do I really want the added stress of having to lose a ton of extra weight to those few precious months that I get to spend at home with my little one? Right now, I have slightly more control over what I eat, what I do, what I gain. In three months from now, the damage will already be redone, and the work will all be to undo that damage. If I do damage control now, life will be so much easier later, but it's hard. Finding that balance is most certainly going to be an ongoing challenge for me.
I think the weight issue with pregnant women is such a touchy subject. On one hand, pregnancy should not give you a "get out of jail free" card to eat whatever you want. On the other hand, the emotional, psychological, and physical changes associated with pregnancy are challenging and for many, eating helps them to cope. I'm somewhere in between. I don't necessarily eat whatever the hell I want, but sometimes - particularly when I'm out with others, who are drinking or doing other things that I can't do - food is all I have. While everyone else is holding a drink, I can hold a (high calorie) lemonade, or an appetizer. Or perhaps something sweet. I'm an extreme introvert, and social situations can be exhausting for me. Drinking used to help me relax but that is gone and I am painfully aware (perhaps overly so) of my awkwardness.
Exercise is also hard. Up until about the 20 week mark I was still jogging at least 3 nights a week on the treadmill. But then my skin started stretching and my belly bounced up and down in ways that made me think my skin was going to tear. I could have gone to walking, but I'm not really a walker, and so I just didn't. Exercise left my life while the increased eating remained, which brings me to present day, and my doctor calling me a fatty.
To be fair to myself, this particular doctor is relentless about his nagging on women regarding weight gain. None of the other doctors that I've met with have had any concerns about my weight. I suppose in some ways I should be thankful that he's watching out for me, and keeping my health in mind. But on the other hand I just want him to back off, since clearly his comment has been weighing heavily on my mind.
I know that plenty of women have gained 30, 40, 50, or even more pounds during their pregnancies, and quite successfully lost that weight after the baby was born. I just worry that if I let myself go now, I'll never get it back. Or that "getting it back" will be an even harder, more miserable process than I anticipate it will already be. No one has ever said that taking care of an infant is easy, and do I really want the added stress of having to lose a ton of extra weight to those few precious months that I get to spend at home with my little one? Right now, I have slightly more control over what I eat, what I do, what I gain. In three months from now, the damage will already be redone, and the work will all be to undo that damage. If I do damage control now, life will be so much easier later, but it's hard. Finding that balance is most certainly going to be an ongoing challenge for me.
"A Pecker Woke Me Up!"
"A pecker woke me up!" That is a direct quote, spoken by me last Saturday morning. I was in bed, and it was still early. 7:30. 8 a.m. at the latest. I was sleeping in, as I tend to do on Saturdays, but DH had been awake for hours, I'm sure (I don't even try to keep track of when he wakes up.)
I came out of my slumber slowly, aware of noise outside near the driveway. I knew that DH had plans to plant some rhododendrons. It seemed early, but sometimes he likes to make subtle noise to get me out of bed without angering me (sometimes it works.)
So after listening to noise for at least 10 minutes, I get out of bed and put on my glasses to see what he's doing.
But when I look out the window, there is no DH. Instead I see the biggest woodpecker I have ever seen in my entire life (I've only seen a few, mind you) pecking on the tree stump right outside of our bedroom window.
He was having a field day. This is a long dead, rotting stump, exploding with nasty bugs that are causing it to fall apart. He barely had to work to get a feast from the thing.
So I go out into the hallway, to find DH quietly folding his laundry in the office. I can't believe I was accusing him of trying to wake me up. He was being so quiet.
"A pecker woke me up," I said.
"What??" was his understandably confused response.
"There's a woodpecker working on the stump outside of our window. I thought you were working outside."
And then he joined me to look at this woodpecker, who was so big he could kick Woody's butt in a second.
Have you ever seen a woodpecker up close before?? Are they all this big??? Do they all have red "hats" like that???
I know that woodpeckers can cause quite a bit of damage to live trees, but his big guy is welcome to come back any time and help us to get rid of that stupid stump.
I came out of my slumber slowly, aware of noise outside near the driveway. I knew that DH had plans to plant some rhododendrons. It seemed early, but sometimes he likes to make subtle noise to get me out of bed without angering me (sometimes it works.)
So after listening to noise for at least 10 minutes, I get out of bed and put on my glasses to see what he's doing.
But when I look out the window, there is no DH. Instead I see the biggest woodpecker I have ever seen in my entire life (I've only seen a few, mind you) pecking on the tree stump right outside of our bedroom window.
He was having a field day. This is a long dead, rotting stump, exploding with nasty bugs that are causing it to fall apart. He barely had to work to get a feast from the thing.
So I go out into the hallway, to find DH quietly folding his laundry in the office. I can't believe I was accusing him of trying to wake me up. He was being so quiet.
"A pecker woke me up," I said.
"What??" was his understandably confused response.
"There's a woodpecker working on the stump outside of our window. I thought you were working outside."
And then he joined me to look at this woodpecker, who was so big he could kick Woody's butt in a second.
Have you ever seen a woodpecker up close before?? Are they all this big??? Do they all have red "hats" like that???
I know that woodpeckers can cause quite a bit of damage to live trees, but his big guy is welcome to come back any time and help us to get rid of that stupid stump.
Three Year Anniversary
It's hard to believe that it's already been 3 years since DH and I were married!!!
That's right, today is our 3-year anniversary!
Well, our wedding anniversary at least. It doesn't seem fair to give so much weight to the "wedding anniversary" when we had so much history before that. In March we celebrated our 9 year anniversary of "officially dating" and this coming fall we will have known each other/been friends for 11 years! Isn't that crazy!?!?! It seems like such a long time, and yet it didn't feel that way at all.
Anyway, Happy Anniversary, honey!!!
That's right, today is our 3-year anniversary!
Well, our wedding anniversary at least. It doesn't seem fair to give so much weight to the "wedding anniversary" when we had so much history before that. In March we celebrated our 9 year anniversary of "officially dating" and this coming fall we will have known each other/been friends for 11 years! Isn't that crazy!?!?! It seems like such a long time, and yet it didn't feel that way at all.
Anyway, Happy Anniversary, honey!!!
April showers, May flowers, and horrible allergies
Last year it was the month of April that kicked my ass with allergies and migraines galore. This year though, April was relatively good to me. That's probably because of the cold, rainy weather, which delayed a lot of the pollen, and the stuff that was out was being hampered by the rain.
But now it's May, dry and sunny, and although I love the weather my sinuses do not and I have been suffering in many ways.
First of all, remember that horse breathing problem I mentioned a few weeks ago? Multiply that by about 100. I wake myself snorting or gasping for air. My throat is constantly dry and sore from sleeping with my mouth open and I've had more bloody noses in the past three weeks than I have ever had total in my entire life.
Perhaps the hardest thing about all of this is my inability to self-medicate. Thus far, I felt really proud of myself for completely cutting out over the counter drugs for minor inconveniences such as headaches, mild colds, and stuffiness. But I'm having a harder time doing that with these allergies. Twice this week already I have given in and taken a Benadryl to help me breath and sleep. I shouldn't feel bad about this - Benadryl is one of the few over the counter medications on the "safe list" provided by my doctors office of things that I am allowed to take as needed. But still, after going for so long without taking anything, I still have some weird resounding guilt every time I ultimately give in. I definitely do sleep and breath better though, so it's probably a good thing for all of us.
The good news is that I have not had a migraine in a couple of months. Allergy season is usually the time of year when I suffer from migraines the most, so I feel extremely lucky to have been spared so far. Of course, spring isn't over yet, and I have been known to get migraines at other times as well. But for now, I almost feel like my body knows that it can't let me get a migraine right now because it would be an unbearable experience. Or perhaps it's just the power of positive thinking - something I've been buying into more and more over the last few months.
In any case, as much as I love all that spring represents and bring with it, I will be happy when it's over and summer is finally here. First, because it means that the pollen and allergies will be gone. And second, because it means that I'll be that much closer to finally meeting my little Critter.
And we certainly have enough trees and flowering plants near our house to produce plenty of pollen.
But now it's May, dry and sunny, and although I love the weather my sinuses do not and I have been suffering in many ways.
First of all, remember that horse breathing problem I mentioned a few weeks ago? Multiply that by about 100. I wake myself snorting or gasping for air. My throat is constantly dry and sore from sleeping with my mouth open and I've had more bloody noses in the past three weeks than I have ever had total in my entire life.
Perhaps the hardest thing about all of this is my inability to self-medicate. Thus far, I felt really proud of myself for completely cutting out over the counter drugs for minor inconveniences such as headaches, mild colds, and stuffiness. But I'm having a harder time doing that with these allergies. Twice this week already I have given in and taken a Benadryl to help me breath and sleep. I shouldn't feel bad about this - Benadryl is one of the few over the counter medications on the "safe list" provided by my doctors office of things that I am allowed to take as needed. But still, after going for so long without taking anything, I still have some weird resounding guilt every time I ultimately give in. I definitely do sleep and breath better though, so it's probably a good thing for all of us.
The good news is that I have not had a migraine in a couple of months. Allergy season is usually the time of year when I suffer from migraines the most, so I feel extremely lucky to have been spared so far. Of course, spring isn't over yet, and I have been known to get migraines at other times as well. But for now, I almost feel like my body knows that it can't let me get a migraine right now because it would be an unbearable experience. Or perhaps it's just the power of positive thinking - something I've been buying into more and more over the last few months.
In any case, as much as I love all that spring represents and bring with it, I will be happy when it's over and summer is finally here. First, because it means that the pollen and allergies will be gone. And second, because it means that I'll be that much closer to finally meeting my little Critter.
Help us pick a color!
Although it's probably at least a few weeks off, we're getting ready to pick a paint color for our master bedroom.
Even though I am dying to buy a new comforter and bedspread to give our room a new look, I recognize that the one we have now is in perfectly fine condition and is totally usable. In many ways, it would be foolish to buy a new one. That doesn't mean that I don't still want to.
But for now I'm thinking of keeping, at least for another year or two. So I want to pick a color that will add some brightness and well, color to our room without being so over-the-top coordinated with our bedding that we'll forever be stuck with that color scheme.
Here are the options that I identified most recently. The valance that you see in the right hand corner is the same design as our bedspread, so you can get a sense of what we're working with here.
What do you think? They are so similar yet oh so different. I definitely have a preference but I want to see if anyone else thinks a particular color would look better than the others. I would definitely appreciate the input!
Even though I am dying to buy a new comforter and bedspread to give our room a new look, I recognize that the one we have now is in perfectly fine condition and is totally usable. In many ways, it would be foolish to buy a new one. That doesn't mean that I don't still want to.
But for now I'm thinking of keeping, at least for another year or two. So I want to pick a color that will add some brightness and well, color to our room without being so over-the-top coordinated with our bedding that we'll forever be stuck with that color scheme.
Here are the options that I identified most recently. The valance that you see in the right hand corner is the same design as our bedspread, so you can get a sense of what we're working with here.
A broader perspective with the curtain in view
And a close-up
What do you think? They are so similar yet oh so different. I definitely have a preference but I want to see if anyone else thinks a particular color would look better than the others. I would definitely appreciate the input!
4-13-11 - 21 weeks and counting
Last night I said, "Wow, I'm 21 weeks now! Only 19 weeks to go!"
And DH said something like, "Holy crap! You mean that baby is going to be here in 19 weeks!?!"
Yep. Only 19 weeks.
Which sounds interminably long and yet so quick at the same time. Long because I'm the one living this pregnancy every minute of every day, the one who had to give up alcohol and deli meat and my obsession with maintaining my weight. I had to give up a lot already, which is why I think they say that women become "moms" before men do - we don't have a choice.
Then I look at our calendar, and I have that same "Holy crap, 19 weeks!?!" moment that DH did. Our summers are notorious for filling up before the first day of spring, and this year is no exception. I'm sorry to say that if you're planning on inviting us to anything for the summer, I hope you already sent us an invite, otherwise we probably won't be able to make it. Between weddings, baby showers, family visits, weekends that I have to work, and DH leaving me for 2+ weeks this summer to earn some extra cash, our summer is shot. That's factoring in the fact that I'm not committing to any traveling starting August 1, since I'll likely be in that window of "it could happen any time now" and won't want to stray too far from Pittsburgh.
19 weeks isn't that far away at all. We have sooo much we still need to do, including finishing the baby room, and then moving our furniture into it so that we can paint and install overhead lights in the master bedroom. Given the rate of progress that we've made on the baby room so far, at this rate we won't finish the master until mid-December. Our house is still gutterless, our attic needs floor boards so that we can move some of the stuff from our overflowing garage into it, and DH has ambitious plans to rip up the rest of the carpeting in the house and finish all of the hardwood floors. Plus, one needs time for fun and hobbies, right? Gardening season is right around the corner and I still haven't planted my lettuce, spinach, and chard seeds. I'm going to be too late to be early if I don't do that this weekend. I am determined to still maintain a thriving garden despite my "condition" for the summer. Hopefully Baby Hartman will enjoy sunny weather gardening as much as I do.
So needless to say, we feel like we're drowning in projects right now. And projects cost money, which we don't have a lot of currently, so budgeting is tight, and these gas prices are NOT helping. We're now accepting applications for manual laborers. The pay is non-existent, but lunch is provided! See you on Sunday at 9 a.m.
And DH said something like, "Holy crap! You mean that baby is going to be here in 19 weeks!?!"
Yep. Only 19 weeks.
Which sounds interminably long and yet so quick at the same time. Long because I'm the one living this pregnancy every minute of every day, the one who had to give up alcohol and deli meat and my obsession with maintaining my weight. I had to give up a lot already, which is why I think they say that women become "moms" before men do - we don't have a choice.
Then I look at our calendar, and I have that same "Holy crap, 19 weeks!?!" moment that DH did. Our summers are notorious for filling up before the first day of spring, and this year is no exception. I'm sorry to say that if you're planning on inviting us to anything for the summer, I hope you already sent us an invite, otherwise we probably won't be able to make it. Between weddings, baby showers, family visits, weekends that I have to work, and DH leaving me for 2+ weeks this summer to earn some extra cash, our summer is shot. That's factoring in the fact that I'm not committing to any traveling starting August 1, since I'll likely be in that window of "it could happen any time now" and won't want to stray too far from Pittsburgh.
19 weeks isn't that far away at all. We have sooo much we still need to do, including finishing the baby room, and then moving our furniture into it so that we can paint and install overhead lights in the master bedroom. Given the rate of progress that we've made on the baby room so far, at this rate we won't finish the master until mid-December. Our house is still gutterless, our attic needs floor boards so that we can move some of the stuff from our overflowing garage into it, and DH has ambitious plans to rip up the rest of the carpeting in the house and finish all of the hardwood floors. Plus, one needs time for fun and hobbies, right? Gardening season is right around the corner and I still haven't planted my lettuce, spinach, and chard seeds. I'm going to be too late to be early if I don't do that this weekend. I am determined to still maintain a thriving garden despite my "condition" for the summer. Hopefully Baby Hartman will enjoy sunny weather gardening as much as I do.
So needless to say, we feel like we're drowning in projects right now. And projects cost money, which we don't have a lot of currently, so budgeting is tight, and these gas prices are NOT helping. We're now accepting applications for manual laborers. The pay is non-existent, but lunch is provided! See you on Sunday at 9 a.m.
The Woes of Homeownership
You may have noticed that I took a brief hiatus from blogging the past few days. Believe it or not, even though I have tons of back posts ready to go, I was too busy to even get online and set them up to post. Why so busy?
Well first, we're still doing renovations indoors following the dining room and office/spare bedroom work. This time it's for the "old office" aka "new baby room." Progress has been slow, to say the least, even though we're not doing much - painting walls and woodwork and installing new closet structures. We also added a new attic access to this room, which involves a pull down ladder instead of the whole in my closet that was the previous access that required a ladder.
"But why do you need a new attic access?" you might ask. Great question. Well, we still continue to be plagued by the mice from hell that simply WILL. NOT. DIE. After about 8 weeks of having a ladder in my closet, we decided we needed a better way to wage this war with the rodents. We're still losing. Miserably. Every night we wake up, listening to them dancing around above our heads. This new batch of mice are fearless little buggers, and no amount of racket that we make below stops them from their disco above. Our sleep is disturbed in major ways and we're constantly tired these days. All we want to do in the evening is relax and go to bed. Stupid mice.
Unrelatedly, during a particularly torrential downpour a week or two ago, water started coming into our bathroom. DH went to the roof to do a patch and then visited the attic. There was definite evidence that our roof was leaking. Fast forward to Wednesday of last week (hmm... or is that rewinding, since it's now Wednesday of this week?) and water started coming into our kitchen. While it was raining DH went back to the attic and found no fewer than 5 places where water was coming, and he only checked 5 places so who knows how many other leaks there were. A few quick phone calls and we had a dumpster ordered, DH brother ready to drive in from Baltimore, and a need to dip into our savings account for an emergency re-roofing project. Fun.
That was this past weekend. Do you remember this past weekend at all? It was cold. Bitter cold. 18 degrees in the morning cold. Thermos' can't keep your coffee warm kind of cold. And DH and his brother were out there from 6:30 a.m. to about 7 p.m. both days this weekend putting a new roof on our house. If that isn't commitment, I'm not sure what is.
Our roof went from looking like this:
To this:
I had no idea our original roof was tan. I kind of like it better in that color now that I'm comparing, but honestly, I could care less what color our roof is, as long as it doesn't leak. Or maybe I just like that picture better because it was taken in the spring, at a much more artistic angle, and there are flowers blooming in it.
Also, why does our house look like a shack from the back? It's really an ugly house from this perspective. I'm glad that we don't really have back-yard neighbors.
Anyway, a future post will be written with more details about the roofing weekend. It was long, hard and cold, and I wasn't even up on the roof.
It's times like these when we wonder why in the world we bother with home ownership. If we were renting, our landlord would have to replace the roof. If we were renting, our landlord would be responsible for bringing in an exterminator to deal with the mice. And if we were renting and needing more space for an addition to our family, we would find a bigger apartment to rent. Done and done.
So for those of you who lament renting, read this post again and be thankful.
Well first, we're still doing renovations indoors following the dining room and office/spare bedroom work. This time it's for the "old office" aka "new baby room." Progress has been slow, to say the least, even though we're not doing much - painting walls and woodwork and installing new closet structures. We also added a new attic access to this room, which involves a pull down ladder instead of the whole in my closet that was the previous access that required a ladder.
"But why do you need a new attic access?" you might ask. Great question. Well, we still continue to be plagued by the mice from hell that simply WILL. NOT. DIE. After about 8 weeks of having a ladder in my closet, we decided we needed a better way to wage this war with the rodents. We're still losing. Miserably. Every night we wake up, listening to them dancing around above our heads. This new batch of mice are fearless little buggers, and no amount of racket that we make below stops them from their disco above. Our sleep is disturbed in major ways and we're constantly tired these days. All we want to do in the evening is relax and go to bed. Stupid mice.
Unrelatedly, during a particularly torrential downpour a week or two ago, water started coming into our bathroom. DH went to the roof to do a patch and then visited the attic. There was definite evidence that our roof was leaking. Fast forward to Wednesday of last week (hmm... or is that rewinding, since it's now Wednesday of this week?) and water started coming into our kitchen. While it was raining DH went back to the attic and found no fewer than 5 places where water was coming, and he only checked 5 places so who knows how many other leaks there were. A few quick phone calls and we had a dumpster ordered, DH brother ready to drive in from Baltimore, and a need to dip into our savings account for an emergency re-roofing project. Fun.
That was this past weekend. Do you remember this past weekend at all? It was cold. Bitter cold. 18 degrees in the morning cold. Thermos' can't keep your coffee warm kind of cold. And DH and his brother were out there from 6:30 a.m. to about 7 p.m. both days this weekend putting a new roof on our house. If that isn't commitment, I'm not sure what is.
Our roof went from looking like this:
To this:
I had no idea our original roof was tan. I kind of like it better in that color now that I'm comparing, but honestly, I could care less what color our roof is, as long as it doesn't leak. Or maybe I just like that picture better because it was taken in the spring, at a much more artistic angle, and there are flowers blooming in it.
Also, why does our house look like a shack from the back? It's really an ugly house from this perspective. I'm glad that we don't really have back-yard neighbors.
Anyway, a future post will be written with more details about the roofing weekend. It was long, hard and cold, and I wasn't even up on the roof.
It's times like these when we wonder why in the world we bother with home ownership. If we were renting, our landlord would have to replace the roof. If we were renting, our landlord would be responsible for bringing in an exterminator to deal with the mice. And if we were renting and needing more space for an addition to our family, we would find a bigger apartment to rent. Done and done.
So for those of you who lament renting, read this post again and be thankful.
A Family of Mice
It's fairly obvious to us that there's a family of mice living in our attic. We can't keep up with their procreating, although we are doing our best to try.
Last night - after that horrible night of listening to nesting noises and finally sleeping in the spare bedroom - DH went up into the attic with a plan.
Part 1 - Remove all of the insulation in the area where we most frequently hear the mice.
Part 2 - Relocate all of the traps to this area.
Part 3 - Cross our fingers for the sound of the "snap!"
The good news???
We caught one!! At around 4:20 this morning I was startled awake by a loud "snap" and then "thump." My subconscious had apparently been waiting for that noise all night, because even though I was still mostly asleep I exclaimed "Yay!!!" and woke up DH in the process. He was like, "Huh? What happened?" And I, now full awake, responded, "We caught a mouse!" I'm pretty sure that the trap snap so quickly that it shot up into the air and then landed on the bare wood just above the dry wall, which is why it was so loud.
I was thrilled that we had caught a mouse, and my sleep was pretty much ruined after that (I've been having a horrible time sleeping lately.) The bad news is that in the hour or so after that first mouse was caught, I heard the pitter patter of another one, in the same area, probably coming to see what had happened to Uncle Mickey. (Hahahaha! He's GONE sucker!) I listened intently for another snap, but this mouse did not take the bait. Damn.
Then this morning when I was getting ready for work I heard the same pitter patter and digging noises on the other side of the house, above our living room. Damn again. We will never win.
Anyway, about our plan that I mentioned above. Removing the insulation might sound like a stupid idea - after all, we're probably just wasting heat since it's still pretty cold at night. But you have to understand that we are desperate people taking desperate measures, and it's only for the short term. Our hope is that we can kill the mice that are there now, and then no new ones will come. (We can dream, right?)
My thinking is that right now, even when we kill a mouse or two, there are a bunch of other family members still up there inviting their aunts, uncles, in-laws, and second cousins to join the party in this awesome house! Kill the messengers and the word won't get out. That's my plan.
DH's plan is a little more practical. Once we feel we've killed most of the mice, he's going to re-insulate the section of the attic and secure floor boards down. He's going to take every measure possible to make sure that the area under the floor boards (the area above our bedroom) are air-tight and completely mouse proof. We'll probably have to repeat that for the next 20 years of our life until we can do that for the entire enormous, currently useless attic.
So we caught one mouse, and every dead mouse is a good thing, right? That's the good news.
The bad news? DH discovered that our roof is leaking and we're going to need to replace that asap. More on that story later. But I have to ask myself, Does the drama in our lives never end?
Last night - after that horrible night of listening to nesting noises and finally sleeping in the spare bedroom - DH went up into the attic with a plan.
Part 1 - Remove all of the insulation in the area where we most frequently hear the mice.
Part 2 - Relocate all of the traps to this area.
Part 3 - Cross our fingers for the sound of the "snap!"
The good news???
We caught one!! At around 4:20 this morning I was startled awake by a loud "snap" and then "thump." My subconscious had apparently been waiting for that noise all night, because even though I was still mostly asleep I exclaimed "Yay!!!" and woke up DH in the process. He was like, "Huh? What happened?" And I, now full awake, responded, "We caught a mouse!" I'm pretty sure that the trap snap so quickly that it shot up into the air and then landed on the bare wood just above the dry wall, which is why it was so loud.
I was thrilled that we had caught a mouse, and my sleep was pretty much ruined after that (I've been having a horrible time sleeping lately.) The bad news is that in the hour or so after that first mouse was caught, I heard the pitter patter of another one, in the same area, probably coming to see what had happened to Uncle Mickey. (Hahahaha! He's GONE sucker!) I listened intently for another snap, but this mouse did not take the bait. Damn.
Then this morning when I was getting ready for work I heard the same pitter patter and digging noises on the other side of the house, above our living room. Damn again. We will never win.
Anyway, about our plan that I mentioned above. Removing the insulation might sound like a stupid idea - after all, we're probably just wasting heat since it's still pretty cold at night. But you have to understand that we are desperate people taking desperate measures, and it's only for the short term. Our hope is that we can kill the mice that are there now, and then no new ones will come. (We can dream, right?)
My thinking is that right now, even when we kill a mouse or two, there are a bunch of other family members still up there inviting their aunts, uncles, in-laws, and second cousins to join the party in this awesome house! Kill the messengers and the word won't get out. That's my plan.
DH's plan is a little more practical. Once we feel we've killed most of the mice, he's going to re-insulate the section of the attic and secure floor boards down. He's going to take every measure possible to make sure that the area under the floor boards (the area above our bedroom) are air-tight and completely mouse proof. We'll probably have to repeat that for the next 20 years of our life until we can do that for the entire enormous, currently useless attic.
So we caught one mouse, and every dead mouse is a good thing, right? That's the good news.
The bad news? DH discovered that our roof is leaking and we're going to need to replace that asap. More on that story later. But I have to ask myself, Does the drama in our lives never end?
Mouse-capades
Written yesterday, March 16th - Blogger was giving me issues and I wasn't able to post it! Also, update coming later today.
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I had hoped that when I wrote my last mouse-related post a few weeks ago, it was truly going to be the last one. I'm sick of dealing with - and writing about - mice, and I bet you're sick of reading about them.
But it appears that our mouse-capades are not yet over.
We'd been noticing occasionally that it seemed like the mice were back, but it wasn't too horrible. A sound here and there, but it wasn't keeping us up at night. We thought we had adequately covered their entrance point, but apparently they either found a new one, or that wasn't their entrance after all. Then, DH found a dead mouse in one of the old traps that we had set back in January, and once we removed the body, apparently his family came en mass to protest.
Ever since the carcass was removed, the mouse noises have increased.* A couple of nights ago DH put down some floor boards and positioned 4 fresh new traps each baited with a base of peanut butter and an additional tasty treat. These treats included raisins, cheese popcorn, a crouton, and a dog treat. The hope was that at least one of those treats would entice the mouse to die. You know where this is going, right?
Last night, I woke up around 12:30 for the first of my nightly bathroom visits (which usually number around 2 or 3.) At that time, I heard the mouse. He was right above my bed and making crazy loud noises. I would love to know what they're doing up there. Can digging in insulation really be that fun?
Anyway, I tossed and turned for an hour and a half or so. DH started becoming restless around 2 - probably because I was moving around so much. At 2:30 I got out of bed and went to the kitchen to get a drink. I had made the decision to sleep in the spare bedroom. I figured that if DH didn't completely wake up, he might be able to sleep through it. But apparently he completely woke up because a minute later he was coming out of the bedroom asking what I was doing.
He decided that he was going to up there and whack a broom around for a minute or two to try to scare the thing away. I was stationed right under the mouse noise so that I could listen and hopefully hear which direction he ran so that we would have some guidance as to where they might be getting access. But even with all of the racket, the mouse just stayed where he was and kept making noise. Was he stuck?? That was my best guess, but I don't really believe that to be true, since even with the floor boards the whole attic is pretty much open. But he was either stuck, or really fearless, and what could be worse than a fearless mouse????
So it was decided that we would all relocated to the spare bedroom for the night. I have no idea what time it was by this point. We went from sleeping soundly in our queen sized bed with the dog in his crate to a full sized bed with the dog in the bed with us (because he doesn't like being left alone in a room at night.) It was a crowded bed, and I was so wide awake by this point that I had a really hard time getting to sleep. I was on the wall side of the bed, so I couldn't see the clock, which is probably a good thing - I tend to be a clock watching when I'm restless and I'm sure that doesn't help with sleeplessness.
Eventually I drifted off and then what felt like 5 minutes later DH's alarm clock went off and he was up for the day. I went back to my bed and put in an ear plug to wait for my own alarm to go off 30 minutes later. After 40 minutes of snoozing I finally woke up. Needless to say, I am soooooo tired right now. I basically feel delirious.
I need suggestions people! How do you get rid of mice in your attic!!?!?
We've tried:
- locating their entrance point (fail)
- traditional neck snapping traps (partial success -when they take the bait)
- pet-safe traps (fail - they just injured the mouse but it was still alive! So sad...)
- Light (fail - we figured mice are nocturnal, right?)
- Sonic pest emitters (fail - the mice are back, after all, and right next to one of the sonic things)
What we haven't tried yet:
- Poison (don't want the mouse to die up there and then start rotting and us not be able to find it)
- Glue traps (seems really cruel since they basically just starve to death or chew their limbs off, and I was traumatized enough by the pet-safe trap when the mouse didn't die, however, I'm really close to going this route to see if it works)
What are we missing?!? What can we try???
* No, I don't truly believe that the increased mouse noises are actually related to the removal of the dead mouse, but I like to take some creative license every now and then.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had hoped that when I wrote my last mouse-related post a few weeks ago, it was truly going to be the last one. I'm sick of dealing with - and writing about - mice, and I bet you're sick of reading about them.
But it appears that our mouse-capades are not yet over.
We'd been noticing occasionally that it seemed like the mice were back, but it wasn't too horrible. A sound here and there, but it wasn't keeping us up at night. We thought we had adequately covered their entrance point, but apparently they either found a new one, or that wasn't their entrance after all. Then, DH found a dead mouse in one of the old traps that we had set back in January, and once we removed the body, apparently his family came en mass to protest.
Ever since the carcass was removed, the mouse noises have increased.* A couple of nights ago DH put down some floor boards and positioned 4 fresh new traps each baited with a base of peanut butter and an additional tasty treat. These treats included raisins, cheese popcorn, a crouton, and a dog treat. The hope was that at least one of those treats would entice the mouse to die. You know where this is going, right?
Last night, I woke up around 12:30 for the first of my nightly bathroom visits (which usually number around 2 or 3.) At that time, I heard the mouse. He was right above my bed and making crazy loud noises. I would love to know what they're doing up there. Can digging in insulation really be that fun?
Anyway, I tossed and turned for an hour and a half or so. DH started becoming restless around 2 - probably because I was moving around so much. At 2:30 I got out of bed and went to the kitchen to get a drink. I had made the decision to sleep in the spare bedroom. I figured that if DH didn't completely wake up, he might be able to sleep through it. But apparently he completely woke up because a minute later he was coming out of the bedroom asking what I was doing.
He decided that he was going to up there and whack a broom around for a minute or two to try to scare the thing away. I was stationed right under the mouse noise so that I could listen and hopefully hear which direction he ran so that we would have some guidance as to where they might be getting access. But even with all of the racket, the mouse just stayed where he was and kept making noise. Was he stuck?? That was my best guess, but I don't really believe that to be true, since even with the floor boards the whole attic is pretty much open. But he was either stuck, or really fearless, and what could be worse than a fearless mouse????
So it was decided that we would all relocated to the spare bedroom for the night. I have no idea what time it was by this point. We went from sleeping soundly in our queen sized bed with the dog in his crate to a full sized bed with the dog in the bed with us (because he doesn't like being left alone in a room at night.) It was a crowded bed, and I was so wide awake by this point that I had a really hard time getting to sleep. I was on the wall side of the bed, so I couldn't see the clock, which is probably a good thing - I tend to be a clock watching when I'm restless and I'm sure that doesn't help with sleeplessness.
Eventually I drifted off and then what felt like 5 minutes later DH's alarm clock went off and he was up for the day. I went back to my bed and put in an ear plug to wait for my own alarm to go off 30 minutes later. After 40 minutes of snoozing I finally woke up. Needless to say, I am soooooo tired right now. I basically feel delirious.
I need suggestions people! How do you get rid of mice in your attic!!?!?
We've tried:
- locating their entrance point (fail)
- traditional neck snapping traps (partial success -when they take the bait)
- pet-safe traps (fail - they just injured the mouse but it was still alive! So sad...)
- Light (fail - we figured mice are nocturnal, right?)
- Sonic pest emitters (fail - the mice are back, after all, and right next to one of the sonic things)
What we haven't tried yet:
- Poison (don't want the mouse to die up there and then start rotting and us not be able to find it)
- Glue traps (seems really cruel since they basically just starve to death or chew their limbs off, and I was traumatized enough by the pet-safe trap when the mouse didn't die, however, I'm really close to going this route to see if it works)
What are we missing?!? What can we try???
* No, I don't truly believe that the increased mouse noises are actually related to the removal of the dead mouse, but I like to take some creative license every now and then.
Real Time Randomness
It's March 9th (yep, I'm writing this post in "real time") and I feel like I'm behind the times because of all of my back-posting.
1. Is it just me, or do we need to get this show on the road?
I love that I wrote so many posts in my early days of pregnancy, but apparently I am wordier than I even knew. If I don't start releasing these posts more frequently than one per day it's going to be August before we're up to date, and I'm getting impatient. Be prepared in the near future for a temporary overload of posts until I get closer to real time posting. I miss posting live!
But, I've also loved all of your comments, emails, facebook messages, and personal comments about how you're enjoying my posts. Thanks so much for that! I wasn't sure if people would be interested in things that I wrote months ago, but I sooooo appreciate the feedback - keep it coming!
2. Am I am the luckiest girl or what? Look at these cuties....
Murph doesn't usually like to cuddle at night. Neither does DH. (Nor do I, for that matter!) Usually, Murph crawls right into his crate and creates a little cave or nest with his blanket until we lock the door. This night though, he wasn't feeling well, and wanted nothing more than to cuddle with daddy. It melted my heart...
3. We call our unborn child Critter.
Not in a "pest" sort of way, but in a "aww... look at that cute little critter" sort of way. It's weird and we know that, but for some reason, it's stuck and so Baby Hartman is also known as Critter. I've refrained from calling him/her Critter on this site so far and probably will continue to do so, but in case there's anyone else out there who think that your pet names for your kids - born or unborn - are ridiculous, know that you're not alone.
4. April 8th is the date for our ultrasound...
...where we'll find out whether Baby Hartman is a boy or a girl. Yes, we are finding out. And I can't believe how many people are shocked to hear that! Why wouldn't we want to find out!!?!?! I do NOT need to be surprised when I am pushing a human out of my body. I would rather be surprised on April 8th so that I can plan accordingly. I like to have control and there's not much control in childbirth - I'm going to retain what little control I can.
1. Is it just me, or do we need to get this show on the road?
I love that I wrote so many posts in my early days of pregnancy, but apparently I am wordier than I even knew. If I don't start releasing these posts more frequently than one per day it's going to be August before we're up to date, and I'm getting impatient. Be prepared in the near future for a temporary overload of posts until I get closer to real time posting. I miss posting live!
But, I've also loved all of your comments, emails, facebook messages, and personal comments about how you're enjoying my posts. Thanks so much for that! I wasn't sure if people would be interested in things that I wrote months ago, but I sooooo appreciate the feedback - keep it coming!
2. Am I am the luckiest girl or what? Look at these cuties....
Murph doesn't usually like to cuddle at night. Neither does DH. (Nor do I, for that matter!) Usually, Murph crawls right into his crate and creates a little cave or nest with his blanket until we lock the door. This night though, he wasn't feeling well, and wanted nothing more than to cuddle with daddy. It melted my heart...
3. We call our unborn child Critter.
Not in a "pest" sort of way, but in a "aww... look at that cute little critter" sort of way. It's weird and we know that, but for some reason, it's stuck and so Baby Hartman is also known as Critter. I've refrained from calling him/her Critter on this site so far and probably will continue to do so, but in case there's anyone else out there who think that your pet names for your kids - born or unborn - are ridiculous, know that you're not alone.
4. April 8th is the date for our ultrasound...
...where we'll find out whether Baby Hartman is a boy or a girl. Yes, we are finding out. And I can't believe how many people are shocked to hear that! Why wouldn't we want to find out!!?!?! I do NOT need to be surprised when I am pushing a human out of my body. I would rather be surprised on April 8th so that I can plan accordingly. I like to have control and there's not much control in childbirth - I'm going to retain what little control I can.
Not Quite Kristi Yamaguchi
This past Saturday afternoon DH and I headed downtown for an ice skating birthday party. It has been years - literally, years - since I have last ice skated. Definitely at least 3, maybe upwards of 5 or 6. I can't really remember. Let's just say it's been it's a long time.
Anyway, ice skating - when you first step out onto the ice - is quite scary, and I had forgotten that little fact. You're wearing shoes with blades. And you're on ice, which is not exactly known for it's impact absorbing properties. Falling on ice hurts. Fortunately I didn't experience that first hand.
Our ice skating excursion was to the PPG rink in downtown Pittsburgh. The rink's size is certainly nothing to write home about - it's little a donut of ice with a tree in the middle. You can't do anything but go around in a relatively small circle in one direction. But for someone who was getting back on the horse - or the skates - for the first time in awhile, I didn't resent the small size until I was just about ready to be done skating anyway.
For all of its size shortcomings, the PPG rink is in an amazing setting. It was a beautiful afternoon with the sun shining and blue skies and those glass and steel buildings really made for a breathtaking backdrop. These pictures may be cliche - everyone who's been there probably has them - but that does not take away from their splendor at all.
Now that I've whet my appetite for ice skating, I'm dying to go back to the North Park ice rink where I last skated many years ago. It's SO much bigger and so much less crowded and I think I could really get to work on developing my Kristi Yamaguchi-like skills.
P.S. - Ice skating must be really good for your butt. My butt hurt soooo much the next day, not in an "ouch I fell and my butt hurts" kind of way but in that "Oooh I used some butt muscles that I haven't used in a long time and it feels awesome" kind of way. Another reason to go ice skating again. I'm not sure that I've ever used the word butt so many times in one paragraph before in my life.
Anyway, ice skating - when you first step out onto the ice - is quite scary, and I had forgotten that little fact. You're wearing shoes with blades. And you're on ice, which is not exactly known for it's impact absorbing properties. Falling on ice hurts. Fortunately I didn't experience that first hand.
Our ice skating excursion was to the PPG rink in downtown Pittsburgh. The rink's size is certainly nothing to write home about - it's little a donut of ice with a tree in the middle. You can't do anything but go around in a relatively small circle in one direction. But for someone who was getting back on the horse - or the skates - for the first time in awhile, I didn't resent the small size until I was just about ready to be done skating anyway.
For all of its size shortcomings, the PPG rink is in an amazing setting. It was a beautiful afternoon with the sun shining and blue skies and those glass and steel buildings really made for a breathtaking backdrop. These pictures may be cliche - everyone who's been there probably has them - but that does not take away from their splendor at all.
Now that I've whet my appetite for ice skating, I'm dying to go back to the North Park ice rink where I last skated many years ago. It's SO much bigger and so much less crowded and I think I could really get to work on developing my Kristi Yamaguchi-like skills.
P.S. - Ice skating must be really good for your butt. My butt hurt soooo much the next day, not in an "ouch I fell and my butt hurts" kind of way but in that "Oooh I used some butt muscles that I haven't used in a long time and it feels awesome" kind of way. Another reason to go ice skating again. I'm not sure that I've ever used the word butt so many times in one paragraph before in my life.
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