We are back up and running.
Fortunately for you, I have been writing despite the blog being down and have a few entries stock piled.

Happy reading over the next few days.

So you will understand exactly why the moment we arrived at my parents house we unloaded perishable items and perishable children and left immediately for the local bar, the Hilltop.

And you will understand, based on previous mentioned evidence, that it would be totally appropriate to catch Ivan drinking one of these:
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Highlights of the party:
The pile of gifts, all for one little girl named AUDREY ANNE! One gift after another she kept looking up at me, making sure it was okay, “a present for Audrey Anne”. Yes, a present for Audrey Anne. I think she kept thinking it was like Christmas where there are many gifts for all sorts of different people under the tree. And when it occurred to her that she wouldn’t have to share at all, ever…delight and surges of glee went through her little body.

Typical three year old melt down when it came time to sing Happy Birthday and blow out her candles. After a few minutes of Ivan pulling his amazing Dad tricks, he coaxed her out of her hiding place just in time before the candles pooled on the cheap frosting smeared across the cupcakes.

And at the end of the night, I found myself cuddling with Audrey Anne, Hope and lil’ Julia on the big overstuffed black couch as we read the Fancy Nancy book (which just so happens to be one of my favorite childrens books now). They were so tired and strung out on cupcake sugar and macaroni and cheese, they just sat there real still with their hands resting on my body. It felt soothing to me.

As I lay Audrey down to sleep, I said to her, “Audrey, did you have fun at your birthday party?” And she replied, quick and witty, “Yes! Let’s do it over again.” Like tomorrow is what I think her little mind was thinking.

God bless my little Audrey Anne. May she know she is deeply loved and celebrated by many.

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Not this time. Oh no. This time, the cord started to rot. I am not kidding. And then one day I was giving Scarlet a sponge bath in the kitchen sink and I realized that the cord had become dislodged from the base (her abdomen) and was hanging by a yellow like cord of sorts. I tugged ever so gently hoping it would just fall off. Nope. It went through my brain that I could just clip it with fingernail clippers and threw that out as not such a good idea. Which it turns out was good intuition after telling my pediatrician about it and his eyes got all big and bulgy and proceeded to scare the living day lights out of me with stories of unstoppable bleeding and such.

So for days, I held the dangling rotting umbilical cord in place with a bandaid for fear that it would get accidentally yanked with the diaper or just from holding her. This did not aid the drying out process, unfortunately. And the cord continued to rot. And ooze. And then the smell began. Have you ever smelled a rotting umbilical cord? Dear God!

I tried not to freak out about this little problem but when it is your precious and most beautiful newborn daughter, it is hard not to be a tad bit concerned. I thought to myself, “If I can just hold out till Tuesday when we go in see Dr. Ray* and he can tell me what to do.” So I dutifully continued to wipe the rotting, and I hate to say, softening (not drying out) cord of flesh with alcohol and antibiotic cream. I kept the bandaid plastered on her fragile and silky skin, rotating it with each application hoping to keep her skin from breaking down. Unsuccessful in that pursuit…her tummy started to get all raw and red from the adhesive of the bandaid. Dear Lord x2!!

Just when I was about to lose the contents of my stomach from working with the rotting piece of flesh, I decided to give her a bath the morning of going to the pediatrician. I carefully washed around the cord which was exuding the most peculiar smell. I was nearing the end of the bath and was about to scoop Scarlet up into the warm towel when all of a sudden I spy the goopey piece of circular flesh floating in the water. I look down and sure enough, Scarlet’s belly button has officially emerged and all was well.

But the story is not over yet. No sirree. For one last bit of dry heaves, I had to get the rotting umbilical cord out of the soapy, poopy, spit up lukewarm water. This is where it gets bad and I am ready to throw in the towel for gross jobs as a mom. I decide instead of pulling it out with my fingers or even with a donned pair of dish gloves, I am just going to ignore it and act like it isn’t in the water. Yeap, that is exactly what I am going to do. And a smile comes over my face. I close my eyes and tilt the baby bath tub and swoosh goes all the dirty water down the kitchen sink and into the disposal. And wouldn’t you know, I needed to turn the garbage disposal on and help evacuate all that “dirty” water. [Shanel, don't think about it, just don't think about it! Maintain composure, denial and that smile on your face!!]

And that is the story, my friends, of Scarlet losing the final piece of my body, in a way, that supplied her with life, nutrients, oxygen and lots of good stuff!

Bye, bye rotting umbilical cord! Or as Audrey would say, “Shoo, bug, go away!”
Shoo, rotting flesh, go away!

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One day I was driving home from work and I received a text message from Ivan. Ivan routinely picks up Audrey from school and they have some father/daughter time together in the afternoon. The text read, “AA is cockadoodledooing.” I laughed aloud and found this very endearing.

Here is a “COCKADOODLEDOO” to you this morning!

I open my arms to it all and welcome the changes in this season. Autumn has always held a special place in my more melancholy heart. I am a Californian and we don’t have fall. As hard as my dear sister tries out there in San Diego, fall doesn’t really come to California; I wish it did for her sake. When I moved to the Midwest, I was mesmerized by autumn. I couldn’t get over all the colors, all the leaves on the ground, all the smells.

There are so many memories associated with autumn that I have collected. Baking my famous chocolate chip cookies for New Student Outreach with IV, homecoming, plunging into a freshly raked larger than life pile of leaves to the horror of the woman who had just spent hours raking her yard, running with Sabrina through the streets of Iowa City creating new paths to challenge our bodies on, watching the color of the waters of Lake Michigan change, apple picking with the Martens’, Jason’s apple pies with all their spices, my autumnal wedding with all its leaves and nostalgia, Lake Tahoe, fall conferences, my growing assortment of colorful wraps and scarves, jeans every day that you can wear them, rock climbing at Devils Lake, anticipation (and a little dread) of the holidays quickly approaching. I love it all.

However.
This year, 2008, autumn means I am about to have a baby. I have had very mixed feelings about this. Dreading the birth process with all sorts of fear and freak out moments. Not looking forward in the least to having what independence I have reclaimed be stripped entirely from me again. Afraid of how I am going to cope after this baby is born with the added stress of a newborn and all the hormonal changes a woman experiences after giving birth. Unsure how I am going to juggle working part time with two small children. A lot of not knowing combined with a struggle to trust the one who is in charge (supposedly) with all the solutions in his hand. I am excited to press myself, kind of like an athlete mentioned in a previous post, to train harder and prepare differently for the race of child birth set before me. I am eager to meet this new little daughter of ours and see her face, hold her hand, kiss her cheek and learn about who she is and will become. I feel curious about how Audrey Anne will respond to her little sister and what that adjustment will be like.

In all of it, I still open my arms to autumn and say in my Shanel sort of way, “Welcome.”

Let me share it with you.

The Spider’s Web
The spider, dropping down from twig,
Unfolds a plan of her devising,
A thin premeditated rig
To use in rising.

Thus I, gone forth as spiders do
In spider’s web a truth discerning,
Attach one silken thread to you
For my returning.

I just loved that last line and felt charmed by it.