Quality of Light

Gabriel Haven

2008-03-21T16:20:00.006-04:00

Dear Gabriel,

My pregnancy with you was rough. When I reflect on how I felt, I have strong memories of nausea and heaviness, which wiped a smile clear off my face. For the most part I felt a dull form of depression, that left me worn and tired. I craved rest and solitude, away from the reasonable demands of your sister and daddy. In the brief moments when I could lay in my bed, still and at peace, I'd rub my ever-expanding belly and feel you safe in my womb. I imagined you contented and calm, well protected from the storm and turmoil I often felt. You were at the center of my inner sanctuary, my haven. This was how I came to your middle name, alone in the warmth of my bed, massaging my tummy, and cooing 'Haven' to you.

The day you were born, began with slight disappointment, as I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never experience the beginning of labor without a little kick from the outside world. You were due on February 26th, but here we were, on March 6th, and I had chosen to be induced again, as I had to do with your sister, 2 weeks past her due-date. It was 8AM, and my midwife examined me to find that I was 4 centimeters dilated and fully effaced (I'd been this close for almost 2 weeks, with only an occasional contraction). My waters were broken, in the hope that labor would begin without the necessity of drugs. By 12 noon, I had been experiencing erratic contractions, but nothing steady enough to truly get things rolling. Pitocin was begun, and in no time, the up and down of fast and furious contractions racked my body. Emotionally and physically, I was ill-prepared to cope with the pain. Weak and wimpy from the start, I was pleading with a higher spirit to time warp me to a different zone. Within 3 hours I'd reached the zenith of my tolerance and made the call for the anesthesiologist. "Epidural, take me away!"

As the numbness spread down my spine and legs, stripping away ALL traces of pain, the dark clouds lifted from my consciousness. My pessimism and depression did a 180 degree flip, and I felt genuine happiness and anticipation for your imminent arrival. The midwife checked my progress, and I was already at 8 centimeters. She figured that we would be meeting you within hours. I was now able to drift in and out of sleep, and although I could feel no pain, I did feel you gradually travel lower through my uterus, and slowly edge your way into the birth canal. By the next time my midwife checked me, she could see your head, and it was time to push. For a half hour I worked to deliver you into this world in relative quiet, calmly surrounded by your encouraging father, the nurse Cheri, and the midwife, Robi Quackenbush. Your father told jokes, and I was actually able to laugh between concentrated pushes. At 6:05 PM, you were born complete, and nestled atop my bosom. I felt instant and deep love for you, my precious. As John Lennon's 'Beautiful Boy' played in the background, your father and I wept tears of joy. I will never forget the pure bliss brought by your presence, your first gift to me.

Love,
Mama

Haiku Announcement

2008-03-16T19:36:00.007-04:00

After a long hibernation from my blog, self imposed by all the commotion, emotion and physical state of my final trimester of pregnancy. I am truly happy to announce the arrival of my sweet baby boy. He has already brought great joy and completion to my family.

The following email was written last week by my darling husband:

Last Thursday we finally welcomed our new addition to the Gamber Family.
What would a birth announcement be without some Haikus?

Mama
---
Enough Is Enough
Oh Thank You Epidural
My Beautiful Boy

=================
Son
---
No No No Not Yet
Cold, Bright, Loud, Hairy Man Bad Breath
Boobies Not So Bad

=================
Daughter
---
Not Too Sure Of This
A Cookie Competitor
"I Love My Bruh-Der"

=================
Dad
---
Have Amazing Wife
Three Cameras One Subject
No Sleep So Much Love

=================

Details:

Gabriel Haven Gamber
Born : March 6th 2008 6:05pm
8lbs 12oz
20.5 Inches

UPDATE:
Mama and Gabriel are healthy, happy and at home.
Stella is helpful and excited.
Dad is a zombie.

Best Wishes

2007-12-25T01:42:00.003-05:00

Merry Christmas!
From the Gambers...

My Mother-In-Law

2007-12-23T11:41:00.000-05:00

One year ago...

Even though the holidays can submerge one in the dark depths of stress, I am still managing to comfortably cling to a buoy, enjoying the sun glistening atop the deep waters. I don't know if it is the effects of watching the holidays through the eyes of a 2 year old, or earnestly enjoying the creation of new family traditions, but I feel surprisingly satisfied with this season and very blessed (my new and overly used descriptive term).

A big part of my joy comes from my family, both our own small nuclear unit and the extended relatives that create a comforting umbrella of protection around us. I am so lucky to have married a man who comes from a wonderful, generous and genuine family. Since day one they have welcomed me into their arms, and I cannot think of a moment of friction in our eight years of bonding. I feel especially thankful for my wonderful Mother-in-Law.

As usually happens when you first meet someone, there is much focus on your similarities and sometimes even more awareness of your differences. In a lot of ways, my Mother-in-Law and I are very different from one another. Much is generational, but even more is just the difference in our upbringings. She is from the Midwest, and grew up during a time when I think children were more innocent. Women played more traditionally defined family roles, church was a prominent part of each week, and patriotism ran deep. In contrast, I do not feel like I was sheltered from the darker realities of life. I grew up having honest discussions about sex and drugs, and questioning issues of equality, government policies and religion. As the oldest child, I craved independence and wanted to be an 'adult' before my time, moving out of my home at the age of 17. My MIL has described her young self as painfully shy, and a little fearful of the greater world. Yet, marriage to a Navy man, meant that the wider world was thrust upon her, forcing her to move across an ocean to a foreign country, Spain, as well as live in several states across the U.S. (all far from her own relatives). The military life, which meant long separations from her husband, and months of living as a 'single' mother strengthened her confidence as she rose to the challenges. My husband and his brother often talk about the immense respect that they have for their mother, especially now that they have grown and truly realize how much that she managed in the absence of their Father.

The more I learn about her, the more that I am amazed and the greater my respect grows. When it comes to work, I feel that I am a great multi-tasker. When it comes to parenting a child, cleaning house, getting dressed, shopping, arghhh! the list goes on, my capabilities tend to fall short. Perhaps, it is years of experience that make my MIL such a wonder at managing a household and simultaneously playing with her granddaughter, but I think it is more than that. She is gifted - a true organizational wizard when taking care of all things domestic, AND she did this with her own sons, while holding down a part-time job!

Beyond her honed abilities to prepare a 3 course meal, keep the kitchen clean, and deal with a toddler - all skills that have proven unbelievably helpful whenever she visits, my love for my MIL has grown due to our talks and a greater understanding of the good woman she is. Despite all of our different personality traits, views on politics, religion, etc., I have always felt acceptance and a lack of judgement. I would guess that my relationship with her son and all it's stages, living together before marriage, having a civil wedding ceremony, and some of our parenting decisions might not have been her first choice, but if this is the case, she never made a big deal out of it, and it never effected our connection negatively. Above all, I believe that both of my husband's parents have recognized that the good intentions behind any of our choices are all that really matters, and have thus never felt the need to exert their influence against our plans. This patience and acceptance has made for a very smooth and respectful relationship. I can only hope that I will be the same kind of Mother-in-Law to my own children's spouses.

Dear Gayle, I really love you and hope that today, your birthday, is a very special occasion and celebration of all that makes you wonderful. Stella, Dan and I wish that we could be with you now, and look forward to your visit in February.

Above photo from Mother's Day 2007

Above photo from October 2007

Lights, Lights, Lights

2007-12-21T10:58:00.001-05:00

Being that it's holiday time, and cold, and dark by five, and since we are often cooped up in our home - with a two year old (picture her running away in defiance from a waddling house of a pregnant woman)we are constantly trying to find nighttime activities of diversion.

On a personal level, I LOVE holiday decorations. I have been collecting Christmas tree ornaments since 1998, and get excited about unveiling each and every one of them weeks before we actually buy a tree. I like bluish noble trees that have elegant branches with spacing between, so that you can see the dangling ornaments and lights in its' depth. No fat fir trees for me. I usually ground my ornaments with white fairy lights and gold gossamer ribbon (hee, hee), although there have been a few years that I've brought out the tiny multi-colored lights for a more 'child-like' quality. This year, prepping the inside of our house with holiday cheer filled a few nights with arguments, I mean laughter. Dan and I usually waited until Stella was tucked into bed before beginning the task of trimming our mantel and arches with garlands and twinkling lights. We filled a couple of nights with tree shopping and decorating the home, and officially finished the task last week. Stella has been surprisingly good at not touching the tree, and the only broken ball was thanks to my clumsy fingers.

With our nights now free, we have gone out in search of holiday activities. Our first excursion was to the Grotto's "Festival of Lights", a Portland locale that has been lighting up their wooded glen and stone bluff with nativity themed images and lights for 20 years.

The Grotto is a very religious destination, with both cathedral singing and outdoor caroling, candle lighting, reenactments of the birth of Christ (both by actors and puppets), and wandering angels and St.Nick's, looking like popes, not Santa Claus. Being a more secular soul, I feel both moved and completely out of place in an environment like this. I wholeheartedly acknowledge that Christmas is primarily a Christian celebration, and often wonder what has drawn me to celebrate this holiday when I am not religious myself. My Father is an atheist, yet we always celebrated Xmas, and I feel that the 'spirit' of giving, initially represented by Santa Claus, was always present, if not the customary acknowledgement of Baby Jesus. Now, as an adult, still hanging on to these traditions, I question why, and feel like a poseur. Can we really base an entire holiday on stories of Santa Claus, trees and lights, baked goods, and lots of consumerism? I want Stella to understand both the pagan and christian beginnings of this holiday, as well as the made-up meaning that her Father and I put behind it. I am trying to focus on the spirit of giving, enjoyed time by the hearth with family, and hopefully a genuine thankfulness for the simpler gifts of life. I do want to encourage her own spiritual growth, introspection and exploration, as she matures, and will support her beliefs wherever they may lead her. For now, she has a play nativity scene and can walk around with baby Jesus in her pocket without needing to know much more.
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The above was a little bit of a tangent, because this entry is supposed to be all about surface decoration - lights, lights, and more lights, not a touchy probing of religion and its' holiday relevance, sooooo... back to the superficial!

We enjoyed the lights at the Grotto, but had much more fun at the Portland Zoo on Stella's birthday. Starting at 5PM, the Portland zoo changes from a venue that displays live animals, into a nighttime wonderland of lights arranged in animal forms, with trees and walkways wrapped tightly in an astonishing array of colorful lights. 'Zoo Lights' is all about dazzling color in the black of night, without a hint of religion. There is a choo-choo train ride through a landscape of moving animal images made entirely of LED lights, and vast stretches of park turned into psychedelic savannas, jungles and swampland. We all loved it. It was a great place to take Stella and watch her excitement and wonder at the panorama before her.

Now that we know how much Stella digs lights (I use her as an excuse for my own fascination), we have plans to visit another spot in Portland, Peacock Lane, which is a neighborhood known for it's gaudy devotion to all things brilliant and bright. They apparently have horse carriage rides up and down the street and give out free hot cocoa. I can't wait!

Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, whichever makes more sense to you!

Feeling Blessed

2007-12-18T16:25:00.001-05:00

Today, December 18th, is my little girl's 2 year old birthday. It is hard to believe I was suffering/recovering from a long labor at this same time in 2005 (and even harder to believe it will not be long when I have to go through that hell again!).

In our efforts to give Stella both a complete and separate Birthday and Christmas experience, we hosted a party in her honor this past Sunday. I am resigned to the fact that the winter holidays will forever be a jam-packed and stressful time of year, due to all the celebrations we must pack into a short period, but both Dan and I are committed to doing whatever we can for Stella so that her special day is not overshadowed by the awesomeness of Santa's coming visit. My Mother-in-law's birthday is December 23rd - far closer to Christmas eve and Christmas day, so the Gambers are well-versed in making pointed efforts to appreciate all special days individually.

Since Stella is only 2, and lacks complete understanding of what her birthday is, we did also lump her party in with a house-warming/holiday theme, so perhaps I shouldn't claim a sole focus on the little princess.
We are loving Portland, and have been especially surprised by how many friends we have been able to make in a short period of time. In truth, we feel that we have more friends to socialize with here in Oregon, than we had after four-plus years in Brooklyn, New York. When we moved here, we only had ONE friend, a woman we have known since our San Francisco days, and one of the few single and childless friends that doesn't mind dealing with the distractions of our toddler, and our overall crappy ability to have a decent nighttime social life. Other than her, all of our other friends were introduced to us via emails from friends of friends. We share the common bond of acquaintances outside this city, and young children, and can thus easily relate. As we spend more time with these unique folk, we are finding more similarities other than the shared compassion and understanding of parenthood.
As I looked around our crowded home on Sunday, with kids running, climbing furniture, spills and crumbs everywhere, parents both nonchalant and slightly stressed out, and all I could think was.... how blessed we are.

None of the mess phased me, it was all to be expected. I was just happy to hear laughter, and have the opportunity to repay some of the hospitality that we had been treated to in the homes of our new friends. I can only hope that we all will continue to deepen our friendships, and look forward to developing bonds in our new, choice city. That is what a good life is all about - cultivated friendships and the history of time and created memories.

Some of the highlights of the day:
1) Having Stella kindly picked up, early in the morning, by another family with a young boy her age, and taken on a 40 minute historic train ride. Freedom to finish last minute prep is priceless.
2) The impromptu visit of some of our old neighbors from Brooklyn, who now live in Seattle, and always show up laden with gifts and extreme thoughtfulness.
3) The lucky meeting of two families 5 year old boys, who were expecting complete boredom at a 2 year old girls party, but had instant camaraderie.
4) Stella's absolute glee at the arrival of her partner in crime, Caleb, and their subsequent joy and mischief.
5) Daniel making a birthday cake for his daughter and singing to her as a group, as she played coy.
6) Going to bed with a clean house, which was relatively easy, even after a party!

Geography Snob

2007-12-06T18:41:00.000-05:00

Within the span of less than an hour, I have had my attention brought to two different websites. The first is a Youtube clip of Are you Smarter than a Fifth Grader, featuring C celebrity Kelly Pickler of American Idol Fame. I watched this video, and needed a forklift to scrape my jaw off the floor. Granted, I'm a travel consultant, so my knowledge of the world should be better than your average American (sad but true), but I think this woman might have actually graduated from high school (?). How can it be???

In my work email, I was then led to actually test my supposed "Atlas Smarts" with a speed test on locating world cities. I did score an expert rating, but never made it past the 11th round to the 12th and final level. How well do you know your world?

Ghost Images

2007-11-30T13:10:00.000-05:00

There has been an absence of photos on my blog lately, and being a visual person, I regret this. My husband and I also have a site at PBASE where we haven't posted a photo since June! This bothers me even more. The reason for our lack of updates has more to do with computer problems than procrastination (I think). We have an Apple laptop, which was greatly loved, but should now be chucked out the window for all the problems we've had. Dan's had to back-up all our data on a separate hard drive several times in an attempt to correct the inefficiency and downright failure to operate that has plagued our Mac. It has gotten to the point where the darn thing runs so slow, that we can't work on our photo collection without fear of losing everything. We do have two other 'work' computers, but this is not where we keep any personal information. If I insist on a photo or two to include on my blog, or email to a friend, my husband has to try and make a CD from our laptop for this sole purpose. What a freaking hassle! In fact, now that it is so complicated to store photos without fear of loss, we've been taking less and less shots, and have a memory card in our camera that is near empty. We went from taking about ten photos an hour of Stella's every nuanced expression to maybe ten a month. Our little girl has got to be more interesting now than when she was a blob of a newborn, lying on a blanket, but you wouldn't know that from our recent photo history.

I have a good friend in Buenos Aires who pointed out that she hasn't seen any photos of me pregnant, and is really curious to see how I look. I realized that even if I begged by husband to create another disc with a pregnant photo, so that I could email her an image of my progress, that there would be no photo to copy! IF there is a pregnant Sarah photo, this is most certainly not the focal point of the picture, and I am probably sitting down or blocked by Stella, looking the same as always.

With my first pregnancy, every day was spent marveling at the changes my body was going through. We documented the growth of my bump every few weeks, and obsessed over the physical differences. Stella will have a visual history of her gestation, and how she and her Mama commingled their blood, and an alien-like place in space.

Besides the images of my pregnancy that she will be able to peruse, we also have copious photos of her literal entrance into the world (photos and a video that I emphatically avoid looking at). In comparison, what legacy have I left for my son? I am at the beginning of my third trimester, with no baby book or photo journal in progress. This baby is being jipped before it is even born - already suffering the second child negligence so often discussed. I am guilty as charged, and need to make a conscious effort to pose soon, to carve out some private time to meditate about my little boy, and focus on his urgent kicks and pleas for recognition. I know you are there. I feel you all the time, doing somersaults in amniotic fluid. I touch my belly as if my hands are caressing your skin, sending you my love, deeply felt and desperate for your acknowledgement. Although there may not be a large photo trail to document our time as one, I can assure you that the bond between you and I is just as strong and unbreakable as it was with your sister. You are precious beyond words to me, and my heart aches to express this in fluttery kisses to your eyelids and cheek to cheek nuzzles. Forgive my lack of foresight and commitment to providing you with a tangible record of this period together, and let us console one another with the secret truth that memories and imagination are often more magical.

Sexy Vampires

2007-11-26T15:31:00.000-05:00

Okay - I guess our intitial name selection did not elicit the response I'd hoped for. Most people still seem hell bent on offering OTHER suggestions. Don't get me wrong - I'm waffling in indecision, and definitely want other peoples new ideas, but I also wanted some imput on my own list.

Well, my husband finally got a response from his best friend, who was having a good laugh with another friend, over the names. They concluded that they all sounded like sexy vampires from an Anne Rice novel. Damnit! They're right! I've been chuckling to myself ever since, as the description is quite apt.

Portland, The Rainy City

2007-11-16T17:15:00.000-05:00

Portland is long famous for being a green and "rosy" city, thanks in great parts to endless days of rain. Since our move here, only a month and a half ago, we have been blessed with dry days (for the most part). Today, I am wistfully looking out my office attic window, at grayish brown trees, bereft of most their golden leaves, covered in water pearls, gifts from the crying sky. Since our decision to move here, I made a deal with myself that I would do my utmost to embrace the gray. As opposed to lamenting an overcast day, I am trying to be positive about the cold and wet. Many Portlanders tell me that winter is a great time for introspection and creative projects. It is a time when the artists of the city, don't feel guilty about not taking a walk in the outdoors, and allow themselves to hibernate in their home, composing music, writing books, painting and sculpting. I like this idea that being forced indoors will allow me the time and focus to be more creative and imaginative with my time. I still feel like more of a dreamer than a doer, and maybe time is all I need to bring about actual action. It is only the end of November, which should mean that I have plenty of time for unknown projects, but this is what scares me.
It is only November.
Winter is just beginning, and I am already in a 'hidden-under-the-surface' panic about how I'm going to make it through the many dark months ahead. I'm TRYING to be positive, but will it REALLY rain until May??? How Vitamin D deprived will I be, when the sun is finally fully shining?
This decision to live in a climate like Portlands was all mine. I'm the wuss in my relationship when it comes to weather. The summer was glorious when we visited, and the season is said to be far superior to those pathetic Julys and Augusts in San Francisco, that had me clawing at my sweaters, eyes darting in search of an escape. I know the wait will be worthwhile, but my patience will certainly be tried.
With a wavering grin on my face, I boldly toast a cheers to cabin fever and the testing of both my optimism and pessimism.

Names

2007-11-09T15:40:00.000-05:00

A busy week passes, and a fine and dandy one at that. We have been transitioning Stella into part-time daycare (Monday - Wednesday - Friday), and it has gone very well. She loves playing with all the kids, and gives everyone lots of hugs and kisses. It has been very nice to actually be able to get work done on these days, that Tuesday and Thursday are a little shock to the system.
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The womb baby is hyper active, kicking me at all times of the night. I just keep rubbing my belly and thinking of the little boy, my son, so close to Mama now. I want to put a name to this being, and am having a difficult time determining the perfect fit. Dan and I had zero problems with girl names. When Stella was born, we had a long back-up of girl names, depending on our first impression upon sight, but just a short list of boys names - names that I felt we were merely settling on. It's a good thing we didn't have to use any of them. When we were convinced that a sister was on the way, I had already picked out her name, although Dan still needed a little convincing. I had chosen Tessa Ann, as a nod to the women in my family (mother - Theresa, sister - Anna Paloma, and Grandma Ann and Abuelita Anita). My back-up name was Greta, which almost made me want to have three little girls, just so I could have a Virgin Suicides-like trio of Stella, Tessa and Greta. Doesn't that just sound like an intriguing set of sisters?

Now with little boys names buzzing in my head, I am completely frustrated. Both Dan and I do not want a common, overly traditional name - no John, Chris, David, or Michael. Nor do we want one of the most trendy, popular names of our age, like Jacob or Ethan. In truth, we want something really unique, but not so crazy that our child can't eventually be perceived as a successful and strong man, or that he grows up being teased. If there can be a nod to my Spanish side, that is also great, but not a necessity. We also want a name that gels with our family and his last name - Gamber.

Everyone has such differing ideas about what names are cool, and which are absolutely inexcusable. In truth, the name Stella was poo pooed by a lot of people. We are not looking for the most LIKED name, but are curious about your opinions.

I have included an initial list below. Some of these names are really for the more obscure middle name, and not all of these names have been approved by my hubby, but it is a start. Let me know what you think, and feel free to add your own suggestions.

Arden
Bastian
Camden
Cayden
Diego
Ferdinand
Finn
Gabriel
Gage
Galen
Haven
Sage
Santiago
Tiago
Tomas
Tristan

Friday Destination Dreaming # 20

2007-11-02T15:36:00.000-04:00

Okay. I don't know what has gotten into me, but all of a sudden I have time, energy, and creativity to spare on this blog. It's happening all at once, sort of like vigorous house-cleaning right before you go into labor.
Today is my birthday, and also a holiday - All Soul's Day. Most people in the U.S. don't celebrate All Soul's Day, which is preceded by All Saint's Day, and is part of a collective "Day of the Dead" celebration. In the States, November 2nd is more often remembered as election day (every 4 years), which has brought me some grief in the recent past. 2004 sucked!
This time of year is usually so jam-packed, especially with Halloween celebration, that there is little time for me to participate in the "Day of the Dead" holiday, despite finding it extremely interesting.

November 1st and 2nd are important days in limited countries around-the-world, but especially in Mexico, where the origin of "Dia De Los Muertos" is credited. It is a time to honor the deceased, remembering those loved ones who have passed into a different 'sphere', and there are a series of rituals that are conducted to show respect. The preparation is elaborate with altars of food, flowers (usually marigolds), water, blowing tissue paper, incense and candles, representing the elements of earth, water, wind and fire, set up in people's homes and at burial sites. Families visit cemeteries to decorate the graves of loved ones and hold vigilance throughout the night. There are costumed parades that are held in city squares and small village streets, with lots of candles, skeleton costumes, dancing and theatrics mocking death. The most famous iconography are the skeletons, seen in miniature, on masks, as puppets, etc. dressed and performing activities like the living. There are also offerings of sugar skulls with icing details (calaveras) and whirled and rolled egg bread.

Although I am happy to be in Portland, I enjoy the fantasy of twitching my nose, and teleporting to Oaxaca, Mexico in this very instant. Vivan los muertos!

Photos Of Our New Home

2007-11-02T14:50:00.000-04:00

This is just a preview, as many rooms have not been included, but here is our new home in PDX!

Here's our dining area with a peek into the kitchen:

The beach painting was done by my Father, Pablo Campos.

This is a limited view of our living room which is unfinished. We've ordered a couch, which I am crossing my fingers will be here by Thanksgiving, but until then, we have a hodgepodge of chairs to sit on.

Here's the first set of stairs going up, but more photos of the bedrooms and office/attic will have to wait...

Except for this one - my new office view!

Last Minute Inspiration

2007-11-01T13:51:00.000-04:00

As I had posted over a year ago, here and here, we love Halloween.
This year, the pressures of our move, getting a new, used car (just this weekend!), and our overall topsy-turvy life of occasional flailing in a new environment, put plans for costumes FAR, FAR on the back burner. After such a stellar performance in 2006, that we knew in our guts would be hard to match, we waffled between trying to force out a creative diamond or just sit in the living room with a bowl full of candy, waiting for others to entertain.

By Halloween morning, all that we had were a couple bags of M&M's and mini Reese's Peanut Butter cups. Dan rushed out during his morning break to procure a pumpkin - Stella's new siting obsession on our neighborhood walks. I tried to offer encouragement for dressing up, at the same time that I equally tried to assuage any guilt about not getting it together this year. We were hopelessly indecisive and unmotivated.

By the afternoon, a light bulb suddenly lit, and we had a quick inspiration. Dan drove out to the local 'Spirits' store in search of accessories. He returned with 3 headbands, at a mere $12 total, and we slapped together our family costume idea, all envisioned thanks to Stella's brown furry jacket...

We were "The Three Bears", as in the Goldilocks story.

We tried to give clues as to the fact that we were bears from a story and not mice, by carrying props. Dan had his little chair, Stella had her dolly - Goldilocks, and I had a box of Cream of Wheat peeking out of my purse.

Happy, happy Halloween!!!

Old Wife's Tale

2007-10-31T14:44:00.000-04:00

As ALL of my friends and family know, this has been a very hard pregnancy for me. The first 4 months were completely miserable, and I have NEVER felt as consistently sick and unhappy as I did. I felt so very helpless that I had zero qualms about reaching out to my fellow Mama friends and soliciting free babysitting assistance, just to give me some alone time to wallow in self pity and discomfort. I wish the above was an exaggeration, but I am sure my husband can vouch for the fact that I turned into the frigid witch of the west, and was no joy to be around. Thankfully, those days have passed. Other than the usual back aches, and tiredness that I still grumble about, I finally feel like myself again, with a regained appetite and the ability to eat onions and garlic again. In the first few months I lost a whopping 14 pounds, but I am finally above my pre-pregnancy weight, and I'm sure that half a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream I ate last night certainly helps.

Back in August, Dan, Stella and I spent a week at Portage Lake in Michigan, for a large family reunion. I drifted in and out of participation, and depended heavily on my Mother-in-law for breaks from Stella. I felt guilty about not being as social or as warm and friendly to everyone, during such a happy get together. I KNOW that many of my new relatives were sympathetic, as they had shared similar sick pregnancies, but I still felt bad about not being able to force a regular smile. Out of all the young children and teens in our midst, from 4 months to 18 years (about 16 in total), there were only two boys. The abundance of girls in the family was discussed often, especially with my new pregnancy and another cousins 8 week announcement. Would we break the cycle and bring some new testosterone into the mix? All the mother's began comparing their pregnancies, and there definitely seemed to be a link between extreme nausea and the birthing of females. Without exception, those few who had had boys seemed to have the easiest pregnancies and the least complaints of all. Over the course of the next few months, I began my own unofficial polling, and became even more convinced by the results that bad pregnancy = girl, and easy pregnancy = boy. Little by little, Dan's hope of a son was chiseled away. There was no doubt that I was suffering from excessive estrogen hormonal imbalance.

I have vowed that this pregnancy will be my last. I turn 35 on Friday, and feel the strains of my age. Not only does pregnancy not suit my temperament, but I believe that my energy is waning as the years progress, and I don't really want to be an old Mom. Of course, there are numerous financial and emotional reasons not to burden ourselves with a larger family. Thus, there has been some sadness in the last weeks, as both my husband and I have addressed the issue that this will likely be our last baby. In honesty, our hopes were to have a boy and balance out the sexes in our home, but we have been bolstering ourselves for the inevitable news that another little girl was blossoming in my womb. Part of the reasons that we decided to find out the sex of this new baby in advance, was to give us time to absorb the news and begin to picture what the future dynamics of our home life would be. We have grown to see that either way will be right and wonderful, but this has taken much thought and introspection. We definitely did not want the actual birthing day to be tarnished with any sadness about what could have been. I suppose that this might sound horrible to some, who feel strongly (and rightfully) that any child is an enormous blessing, and that the sex is irrelevant, but I'd be a smidgen dishonest to say that I was in complete mature agreement.

Yesterday, at almost 23 weeks (a little late for scheduling our ultrasound), my family finally found ourselves in the doctor's office. I was laid out on the exam table, copious gel on my belly, as the ultrasound technician began her study of the healthy looking baby in my uterus. I knew that Dan was nervous, and thankfully distracted by our twittering daughter. After initial examination of the body, skull measurements, umbilical cord, placenta placement and vital organs, our t.v. view drifted to the nether regions.

"Well, it definitely looks like we have a little boy here."
Dan was in shock, "No. Are you serious? No. Are you sure?" I could hear the elation in his voice and tears easily sprung from my eyes.
It was a definite, unless ours was a little girl with a penis.

My initial feeling was one of relief, like my job was done. I felt that Dan had a sense of manhood restored, no matter how silly that sounds. There was also a slight sadness, as I realized that Stella would not have a little sister, something I had so deeply wanted when my own little brother was born. This information also somehow made my daughter even more precious, as I realized this was "it". She was going to be my ONLY little girl. Would she have to be my everything? How could I expect her to embody all of my little girl dreams? How could I dare put such pressure on her? It would be wrong, and something my conscience will have to fight with my unconscious, as those types of expectations are completely unrealistic.

So, here we are - a little boy on the way, and we are happy. The old wife's tale has officially been busted.

The Move

2007-10-25T17:10:00.000-04:00

You would think that moving cross-country with an unruly toddler, and a nauseous pregnancy would be great fodder for blog material, and you'd be correct. However, the stress, and near financial ruin (I exaggerate) of this experience has sapped the energy and creativity out of my limbs. I FINALLY feel caught up enough with the unpacking and life organizing to NOT feel guilty about dedicating a few stolen minutes to my writing.

Today is a gorgeous, unrainy fall day. I have a view out of our attic office of an old craftsman home and the peaks of maple trees in shades of gold, green and orange. The sky is a clear unsmoggy baby blue, and I am extremely smitten with this change of scenery. In Brooklyn, I always worked facing a wall or room interior, without the opportunity to wistfully look outside and daydream about outdoor freedom. Our new space does not go unappreciated as we finally have the opportunity to spread out our meagre possessions in an uncluttered fashion.

For the past month, all of our free time has been spent doing repetitive treks to Target, Bed, Bath & Beyond, Home Depot, IKEA, and a multitude of grocery stores. We still have no real concept of the Pearl District and the famous Powell bookstore, nor have we allowed ourself leisurely strolls in Mt.Tabor or Laurelhurst Park. I do feel that the times are-a-changin', and enjoyment of our surrounds is on the horizon. We look forward to our coming adventures in the Pacific Northwest, and weekends spent exploring new horizons instead of being great consumers of household crap.

Our move hinged on the affordability of Portland in relation to New York. We were enticed by low rental prices and an escape from the material pressures of stylish Manhattan. We imagined a simpler life, where our square footage would expand without a mutual expansion in income.
We were fooled.
Yes, our home is now triple the size, and much needed with baby 2 on the way, but our rent has also increased. We are buying a used car, and aren't splashing out on this luxury item, but have added the extra monthly headache of gas and insurance. Finally, the imminent 2 year birth date of Miss Stella Mar, and the early onset of the 'Terrible Two's' has brought along a necessity for outside childcare. Even at part-time care prices, we are shocked by daycare fees and the deep hole this expense will leave in our pockets. We have officially entered the middle class struggle of living paycheck to paycheck, and it ain't pretty. If I allow myself to block out our new economic woes, there is no doubt that we made the right decision. In truth, these costs are all inevitable wherever we would choose to live. It is the nature of having a family. Kids aren't cheap. I console myself with the fact that we've only got childcare costs until Kindergarten - about 6 years to go! Then, we can start saving again for those exotic family vacations, because school aged children are cheaper, right?
Lie to me.

Back on the train,
Sarah

Formal Announcement

2007-09-07T09:45:00.000-04:00

There are big changes here, which will also explain my disappearing act. As I had last divulged, I am pregnant again, now at 15 weeks. This fact has provided the impetus to finally leave our one and a half bedroom apartment, our home in Brooklyn for the past 4.5 years. Our spacing issues with raising a toddler AND working out of our living room had already reached boiling point, but laziness, cheapness, and indecision kept us from finding a new place. With thoughts of carrying groceries, a near 2 year old, and a bowling ball in my belly all up a 4 story walk-up, I was freaked into action.

Daniel and I just returned from a scouting trip to the Pacific Northwest (sans Stella), and have officially decided to move to Portland, Oregon. We gave our notice to our landlords, and are in the process of signing a lease for a Craftsman duplex (3 plus rooms, plus basement, plus laundry, plus large outdoor patio, plus fireplace, plus parking!!!!). Now, we literally have two weeks to pack up our belongings and ship them cross country. With all this crazy moving and upheaval, I imagine my writing will be scant, but just think of the future chapters to come! I am very, very excited about the changes, and our coming proximity and accessibility to the great outdoors.

A Lifting

2007-08-10T15:08:00.000-04:00

Now that I've semi-sneakily let out the big news, that yes, I am pregnant, I will be able to enumerate all the pressure that this has placed on our household (in the future).

When I rag on and on about how miserable I am, please don't ever think that I am not thoroughly excited about our growing family, and don't ever doubt that I wholeheartedly want this precious baby, despite the fact that 'it' is doing a number on my health. I am just not a fan of pregnancy, only the end result. I do find that I am more depressed this time around, purely because I feel rotten, and that really takes the glow and joy out of what should be a wonderful thing. I've always been willing to imagine a family with 3 children, especially if another daughter makes Daniel want to gamble a third time in hopes for a son, but I don't think that pregnant Sarah brings any good to this world. I also don't think I'm enough of a masochist to go through this again, and frankly, that makes me sad.

Those days of amnesia about nausea, acid reflux and a painful labor seem far, far away. This blog will record the truth of the moment, for me to reread if I ever get broody. Right now, I do think there is an ever slight change. It is definitely not a complete recovery, but I have just done something shocking and tell-tale... I ordered a curry take-away from a Thai restaurant! I'm a little scared, because this is my first venture into a world of flavor in over 4 weeks, and I might be barfing it all out in an hour. I'm just surprised to think that I could even contemplate spicy food after weeks of a toast,crackers, peanut butter and wedges of cheddar diet. Cross your fingers for me.

Misery

2007-08-07T14:50:00.000-04:00

This past month has been one of the worst in my life.
Nothing tragic has happened - I have just been incredibly sick, and still am.
I have thought about writing many, many times, but besides not feeling well, and not wanting to spend any more time in front of the computer than I have to, I thought, "who the hell is going to want to read about my misery?".

This all started around the beginning of July, when I began suffering all day headaches, that originate at the back of my neck and the base of my skull, and radiate around my head like Jesus' thorny crown, throbbing fiercely across my forehead. This ache is C O N S T A N T, and is coupled with ALL-day nausea.

For weeks, I have been useless, often lying prone in my bed, and not doing a lick of housework or cooking. Daniel has had to step-up big time, which he has never failed to do, and take care of both me, Stella, work, and living. About the only thing I have managed to do is croak out my day's worth of labor, and thank the stars that I work out of my home, where I can go from night to day in the same pajamas, not brush my teeth or hair, and poop out at odd times.

Seriously, this is no joke. I have felt this rotten. My parents have been visiting for almost two weeks, and I feel like my Mom is holding my life together. She is cooking, cleaning, and entertaining Stella non-stop. Before their arrival, I called on the help of some of my Mommy friends to have Stella over for a playdate, without my attendance. Thanks to all these people, I have managed.

If there has been anything to learn from this experience (which is yet to be over), it is a new compassion for those who are very sick and in pain, sometimes terminally, and a heartfelt conviction that I never - ever - want to be pregnant again.

Eleven weeks and counting...

Happy Anniversary!

2007-08-07T10:03:00.000-04:00

To my love, who I have shared 3 wonderful years with.
I love you.

Dawg Love

2007-07-12T13:58:00.000-04:00

Stella really loves dogs. In fact, I think her little toddler brain is dominated by thoughts of dogs (even above Elmo!). We don't own a dog, but that didn't stop "dawg" from being her first word. Whenever we hear a dog barking outside, she gets a look of surprise on her face - a little 'o' mouth, and then gleefully nods with knowing, "dawg". Out on the street, she shrieks with excitement whenever she spots a canine, pointing and flapping, drawn off her path. Thankfully, our neighborhood gives her ample opportunity to meet dogs of varying size and color, and we have often gone on walks for the sole purpose of dog spotting.

Yesterday, after finishing a light shop at the coop, we paused outside of the front door to admire a dog who looked like a mutt version of Lassie. His owner was seated beside him on a bench, leash in hand, and smiled welcoming at Stella. Both my husband and I have done our best to teach Stella how to be gentle when she pets and not to hit or tug. We always try to calm down her explosive energy when she sees other animals, and to be slow in approaching them. She did all of this perfectly when she saw the dog, smiling and waving as she stood in front of him, a safe distance away. Frankly, she was being adorable, and all of the passersby were ahhing, 'how cute'. She then stepped up closer to the dog, squatted down and planted a big mwaaah kiss on his snout. Exactly as her lips smacked, I saw the glint in the dog's eye change.
He charged at my baby. The dog snapped at Stella's face, pushing her away. She flew backward, slamming her head on the concrete sidewalk. The owner was completely shocked and immediately yanked his dog's leash with worry. I ran to Stella who was flat on her back, screaming. She had a very faint welt on her cheek, where the dogs tooth had grazed her, but not cut through the skin. AS I lifted her into my arms and tried to comfort her and ease her fear, I was also telling the dog's owner that she was alright, and not to worry. Logically, how could I be mad at the dog? He had acted as any animal would act when their territory felt threatened, BUT what would I have done if she had been seriously injured? I remember hearing about a toddler in Manhattan who had her face bitten off by a dog, and thinking that I could not imagine a more horrendous thing. If an animal had maimed my child like that, I don't know if I could control my rage. I'd want that dog dead, and yet it wouldn't solve anything.

With barely a scratch, we were able to walk away from the incident, shaken up, but undamaged. At least, that is what I hoped. I knew it was inevitable that Stella would have to learn more caution, and that not all animals are nice. I was just hoping that her great love would not have to be questioned so soon.

Friday Destination Dreaming # 19

2007-06-29T11:07:00.000-04:00

This is a post that I have been wanting to write for several months. My intention was to suggest this destination over the Easter week, as there are lots of colorful pageants, dances, religious processions, and creative decorations to behold, comprised of cereals and fresh vegetables. Holy week is arguably more important than Christmas as deduced by the natives whole-hearted involvement in celebration. Many businesses close, and hours of operation are shortened so that the locals have more time to spend with family and to enjoy their holiday. This might make it a LESS ideal time to visit, without a genuine interest in Easter traditions.
Months later, and I still find myself dreaming of this destination. The summers are brutally hot, so I am squeezing this spot in before the hordes of tourists arrive for July and August, and the extreme heat reduces one to an oily meat patty.

I bring you a little early summer spice...in Sicily!

Visiting Sicily is all about culture, history, natural beauty, and Italian cuisine. I'd suggest flying into Palermo, to begin your trip with the excitement of a big city and all its' varied entertainment. You will have many archaeological sites to visit, beaches to swim at, and boutique shops to browse through. Sicily is an island of vineyards, orchards, rocky coastline and mountains, such as the famous volcanic Mt. Etna. You can tour through Ancient and Medieval cities like Agrigento, Siracusa, Monreale, and Cefalu, spending much longer in lovely Taormina. Do as the locals do, and spend your evenings strolling arm in arm through piazzas and down stone lanes, stopping for coffee, gelatto, and granita (flavored ice), all the while watching the beautiful and well-dressed around you. Food will be the real treat, and provides the clearest insight into both the land and the people. Dine alfresco, indulging in fresh caught seafood and Sicilian wine. You should detect hints of orange, lemon, olives and almonds - all locally grown, in the flavor of your food. Sicily is surrounded by water - three different seas - the Ionian, Tyrrhenian, and Mediterranean, so when the heat finally becomes unbearable, you can stretch your body out on a sandy beach, or go snorkeling in one of the many coves. Scintillating!

Siblings

2007-06-26T12:50:00.000-04:00

I'm ready. I want another baby. I hope this isn't like telling people what your birthday wish is, when blowing out the candles, and forever ruining your chance of that dream coming true. I am just excited to think about a new being, magically concocted from Dan and my genes, that I can't help sharing my anticipation.
I love Stella so very much, that I am mesmerized by her every expression and burgeoning understanding of our world and the function of all minutiae in our life. Knowing how much better being a parent gets, from the stress of trying to get a newborn to stop crying, to the brief moments when your eyes lock and recognition is achieved, to the now frequent "I lub you"s and the leg hugs, I can't wait to start all over again. I like to think of Stella with a sibling, and imagine how a new and different personality would balance the energy in our household. I also have crazy dreams of three children, which makes my nearly 35 year old body feel the pressure to get a move on it. Dan wants a son, as do I, but having a little girl has been a great deal of fun... something I'd like to repeat. I love to think of Stella having a little sister, near in age, destined to be her dearest friend. Then, just as quickly, I counter that image with imagining her kindly shepherding a little brother along a shared path. I'm sure that both my brother and sister would agree that I fulfilled neither of the above roles, something I have had some lingering guilt about. I hope I don't place some unrealistic pressure on Stella (or myself) to have the idyllic sibling relationship that I failed at as the eldest child. As an adult, I am so very thankful for my family, and grateful for time and maturity, which have strengthened and deepened my relationships with my siblings. It is never too late!

Anyhow, I do like the idea of a family that is more than a trinity, and hope that we can experience this. I have lots of ideas for girls names. Now, all that I need is a stellar choice for a boy, and I'm sure that I'll be ready!

Read It! Read It!

2007-06-22T11:46:00.001-04:00

Stella loves books. She drags then all around the house, back and forth between her bedroom and the living room, asks to have them in her crib when she sleeps, and even has designated bath books. Every day, she approaches her Father or I with a book in one hand, big pleading eyes, and says, "Read it. Read it." Then shakes her head in a vehement yes, as if she is willing the only acceptable response. She often makes her request when I am typing away at my desk, trying to work, and she is on tip toe, peering over the top of my desk top. I feel bad that at least half of the time, I have to deny her, and tell her to ask her Daddy or read it to herself. For the most part she is fine with this, and never whines too long. Our new problem stems not from her constant desire to read and share her books with us, but from her recent obsession with her absolutely favorite book.

Since Stella was little, and just beginning to crawl and use furniture to pull herself up, her favorite place to do so was at a book shelf full of travel guides, cookbooks and Gourmet magazines. She could spend hours entertaining herself by pulling all the books off the shelves, and flipping through the usually picture-less pages. This was a great clean-up game on our part, as you can imagine. As she grew, and got bored with black and white pages, we thought that she might have finally lost interest in our bookcase, but her break was short lived. When you live in a dinky, closet-size home, one is bound to return to the same haunts. Eventually, Stella found the book of her dreams, a cookbook from the early 90's, entitled "The Surreal Gourmet - Real Food for Pretend Chefs."

This book is full of surrealist food images, like eggplants in a nest, an avocado guitar, and a Mr. Potato Head spud. However, what really seems to rock Stella's world, are all the images of fish, like goldfish with a martini glass or a paintbrush tail, fish bones, and a fish shaped grill. She is constantly forcing this book upon us with shouts of, "Fish! Fish!". After initially finding her fascination with this book humorous, we now find it exacerbating. There is nothing for us to "read", and all Stella wants to do is scream "FISH!" at the appropriate pages. Dan and I have now grown to hate this book, and we keep putting it away, thinking that she will forget about it. Stella is not stupid, and this hasn't worked, so now we have become truly mean parents and have hid it.

Yes, that is right. Cue the evil Dracula laughter - "Mmwahahahaaahhhh!!!!"

Love At First Sit

2007-06-21T11:44:00.000-04:00

OK. My heart is beating fast, and I am trying to calm myself down by typing more slowly and with purpose. My unreal excitement stems from one vision - spotting my dream couch on a website. I know, I know - a sofa? Yes, this is what I fantasize about. I have had the same futon couch in my living room since 1998. It was initially purchased out of frugality, and has not been let go out of necessity. When we moved to Brooklyn, the intention was always to replace our futon with a real live grown-up couch, but this did not happen for valid reasons. First, our apartment has acted as a hotel for surfing friends and families and thus the futon has served us well as a queen size bed for visiting guests. Second, we live in an old brownstone on the 4th floor. Although we could get a couch up to our apartment, it would never fit through our doorway which is only about 27 inches wide. Besides the fact that I have never been able to find a couch with these dimensions, we also felt that it was necessary to get a sofa bed (for overnight guests), and this type of furniture is even larger. We never thought that we would be here for over four years. Otherwise, we might have considered paying to have a couch disassembled or at least lifted and brought through a window. Now, it is really too late. Instead, I think about our future move and the dream couch that we will own sometime down the line.
With nesting obsessions, I have become quite fanatic about design magazines and blogs. I love Domino, and take a daily gander at Design Sponge. This blog has lead me to many other great sites like Apartment Therapy and sfgirlbybay, which have in turn directed me to a little slice of perfection...

Seriously, I was very excited when I saw this.
I. LOVE. THIS. COUCH.
I do not care that it costs $2000.
This is a worthy splurge, and one that I hope I can make when we leave our tiny home. My face is flushed and I have heart palpitations thanks to my heavenly state of love at first sight. Possession is the only cure.