trains planes and automobiles

We have returned. Tired but alive. Mostly in one piece, but swearing off travel for at least the next six months. Don't get me wrong---it wasn't that bad---but all of those people who tell you that traveling with an infant is easy are lying. Traveling is a headache no matter what, and when you throw a baby into the mix it just gets more complicated. Sooooooo many logistics.
In general, Sadie did just fine. I fed her on takeoff and landing to help equalize the pressure in her ears, and it seemed to help. She cried for about three minutes on the descent into Denver (the longest three minutes of our lives, no doubt), and for a few minutes as we idled on the runway prior to departure. What I learned from this experience: no matter how horrible it is to be stuck on an airplane with a crying baby, no one feels worse about it than the parents.
As if things weren't difficult enough already, our flight out of Denver was delayed two hours, meaning that we missed our connection in Portland. The one that was the last flight to Bend for the evening. So, although United offered to put us up in a hotel and get us on the first flight this morning, we declined. The thought of dealing with checking bags, security, and prop-plane turbulence was more than we could bear, so we got a refund on our tickets, rented a car, and drove the three hours to Bend instead. We finally crawled into bed around 2 am. Here, a picture of the happy family before holiday weekend travel got the best of them:

More pictures from our trip coming soon!

bff

Sadie and Sophie chillin' at the Hawaiian party this weekend.
Sophie had a really cute flowered dress too, but she drank too many milk coladas and spit up all over it.

building a better mousetrap

A mouse.


In the house.

I've held off on posting this for quite some time, lest you think we live in rodent-infested squalor in backwater Oregon. Before you get on the phone to Child Services, the reality of the situation is that our house borders a large meadow, where deer, elk and, apparently, mice come to play. This tiny little guy (and by tiny, I mean no more than two inches long) found a portal to the warm and cozy confines we affectionately call "Pinkee" through a gap beneath the fireplace. Reid had suspected his presence in the way of strategically-placed droppings beneath the couch and one rumored sighting, but yours truly needed visual confirmation for herself. That confirmation came late one night while we were watching a movie. The ol' did-you-see-that-out-of-the-
corner-of-your-eye sort of thing.

Commence Operation Bag A Mouse.

Or in this case, box. I was convinced we could catch him (or her) without use of barbaric methods involving steel jaws and cheese, so we laid out a quick ambush plan. Corner mouse behind TV. Confuse mouse with flashlight. Startle mouse, causing mouse to flee. Guide mouse into large cardboard box. Reid had the ingenious idea of placing said box directly in front of the fireplace portal, assuming mice are creatures of habit and would not have a Plan B exit strategy. And he was right. Here, proof that we are indeed smarter than a mouse:


Well, if you could've seen us---jumping up and down, high-fiving, yelling "we rule" and what not. It was truly an amazing feat, in our estimation. The celebration ended with a ceremonial release back to the meadow from whence he came, albeit to the furthest possible corner from our house. We felt a little bad that we literally scared the poop out of him (see above photo), but hopefully he won't be back.

scratching post

If there's one thing even amateurs know about taking care of babies, it's: keep their fingernails trimmed so they don't scratch themselves. Easier said than done. Like every other part of a baby, nails grow like weeds. You've clipped and filed them and, before you know it, they've sprouted into jagged little razors again. We've tried to keep up with the task, but apparently we need to hire a full time manicurist for Sadie. As we're pushing her in the stroller around REI the other day, Reid looks down and says, "Why is her face bleeding?". Oh. Man. It's just a scratch and already starting to heal, but we felt so terrible for not doing our job. At least she doesn't seem to mind...

happy birthday sadie

Three months! Who can believe it? You're such a little person now, with habits and expressions and a personality all your own. Mostly you're just plain charming---we can take you anywhere with us and you rarely make a fuss. We're convinced we have the best baby on the planet! When you do get upset, it's for a good reason: like this week, when you started teething. It's a little early to be getting teeth, but it doesn't surprise us that you're an overachiever. You love to sit in your baby chair and bat at toys in front of you, and your favorite read (and mom's, too!) is The Belly Button Book. When we make sounds, you try to imitate them now. You've always got something to say. And you haven't rolled over yet, but not for lack of trying. It's going to happen any day now! Happy 3-month birthday, sweet Sadie!

let's be realistic

...she's a happy baby. But not ALL of the time.

Check out the new pix on Snapfish!

back to work

Well, it finally happened. This post is officially being written on the company clock. I'm sitting at a new desk in my same old office, hoping that I'll somehow be able to focus on the task at hand: wading through exactly 376 unread emails. I guess it's actually a good way to ease back into things---I mean, no one can expect too much from you on your first day, right?
I remember when twelve weeks of leave seemed like an eternity. Plenty of time to clean out Sadie's closet, make a baby keepsake book, and stock the freezer with pumped milk. Well, the reality of it is that there's still barely room to hang her tiny clothes, the pile of scrapbook fodder is sitting untouched on my desk, and there's enough milk to last a week, at best. Ah, plans. I'm trying to remember that saying about "the best laid plans blah blah blah" but I haven't had my coffee yet and I need to get back.
To work.
Back to work.
Ugh.

welcome, sophia

Whether Sadie knows it or not, she has a new best friend as of April 20. Our dear friends Brian & Sibila welcomed Sophia Maria (aka Sophie) into the world a few days earlier than expected. She's a sweet, teeny little bundle of newborn-ness with her mommy's eyes, her daddy's mouth, and her dog Lizzie's sunny disposition. :) We're already imagining the trouble these two girls will get into together.
Happy Two-Week Birthday, Sophie!!

outrageous!

After reading my previous post, my mom the professional researcher was inspired to learn about baby wigs as a possible business venture. What she found will shock and amuse you. Personally, I like the Donald.
For all you celebrity gossip hounds out there, you may be interested to know: (1) apparently there is speculation that the infamous baby Suri (left) wears a wig, and (2) Travolta was rockin this style on his kid (right) years ago.

all the wipes your heart desires

I once went to the store to buy wipes, only to find they were sold out of the brand we use. They're not Huggies or Pampers or any of the usual suspects, all of which are easier to come by but Sadie seems to be allergic to. So now when I go, I buy every single package that's stocked on the shelves...I mean, it's not like we're not gonna use them eventually, right? Here's the haul from my latest grocery trip. You'd think I was on an episode of Supermarket Sweep from the way I start frantically tossing them in the cart, body-blocking any other shoppers who try to get in my way. Far be it from me to spoil Sadie, but she's definitely got more wipes than any other kid on the block.

wig out

This picture was taken right after the waitress at The Original Pancake House said, in all seriousness,"What a cute baby! Is she wearing a wig?"
That's right Sadie, laugh at the crazy lady!
Honestly, it's amazing how much attention Sadie gets because of her hair. We can't go anywhere in public without at least ten people commenting on it: "Wow, she sure has a lot of hair!" or, "Did you have that much hair when you were a baby?" or, "All of my babies were so bald, I wish they'd had hair!" I really need to think of some sort of snappy comeback. Maybe I WILL start telling people it's a wig.