A ghost Steve Jobs would be proud of

I don't believe in ghosts. 

Although I've heard lots of stories from credible people who've had some spooky encounters, I haven't quite bought in.  It's not that I think they're lying, but everyone knows eye witness accounts are the least reliable.  And Occams Razor suggests the simplist explanation is generally the correct one.  Did the ghost take your keys, or did you just misplace them?  Did you really see a vision while you were sleeping, or were the effects of last night's alcohol still lingering?  Call me a doubting Thomas, but there are just some things I have to experience myself to believe.

We spent the long weekend at a friend's place in Wilmington.  It is one of the most beautiful pieces of property in Wilmington (so I'm told) and we've stayed there many times.  The house itself is modest and was built in the 50's and supposedly, is home to a ghost. 

Over the years, Eric and I have heard stories from the owner, Ken, his children (Eric's friend, Wes), and other houseguests who've experienced the ghost.  The last night Ken ever stayed in this house was several years ago.  He was wide awake and felt someone wrap their arms around him as if giving him a hug.  He has no idea why, but he spoke the words, "I'll never leave you" aloud at that moment.  That was the last night he ever stayed in the house.  He bought a newer home in Wrightsville Beach and he now lets others stay at the "haunted" house.  Thankfully, the ghost doesn't seem to hold a grudge that Ken immediately broke his promise to stay, and has been friendly, but present, ever since.  Ken later found out the women who originally built the house was left by her husband.

The ghost has rubbed arms, stolen dog bones, and actually been seen by one of Ken's children.  One woman who stayed there had a strange encounter, but didn't tell Ken until a year later.  She hadn't heard the lore until then and didn't want to sound crazy.

Of course, since I don't believe in ghosts, I've never had any qualms about staying there and the ghost didn't even enter my thoughts going into the weekend.  Friday night, we went to bed about 11:30.  Brady woke up about 3 am and I groped my way to the bathroom to turn on the light.  We had gone to bed with the light on, but I figured Eric must have got up to go to the bathroom and turned it off.  I went to pick up Brady from the crib (and I remember thinking...how is Eric sleeping through all of this racket?), fed him, and put him back in the crib.  I went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and a quick snack myself (Brady's not the only one who gets to eat) and went back to bed.  At 5:30, Brady woke up - I nudged Eric and as he got Brady out of the crib he asked, "Why did you put the iPad in the crib with Brady?"  Eric handed Brady over and went to the bathroom, as I sat there confused, playing back the night's events in my head.  When Eric came out, I sat there, very awake, and told him with wide eyes that I didn't put the iPad in the crib with Brady.  Eric was standing next to the bed and he looked down at his feet and asked, "Well, what about these cords next to the bed?"  Goosebumps ran down my body.  The iPad cord had been plugged (with the iPad charging) into the outlet in the bathroom.  My phone charger had also been plugged (without my phone) in the bathroom outlet.  Both were sitting in a pile next to the bed.

I tried to convince myself for several minutes that I must have done it in my sleep.  I have been known to sleepwalk in the past, so it's a semi-logical explanation.  But whenever I've learned of my sleepwalking incidents, I've always had a vague recollection of what I've done or at least an inclination that I was up.  And I've never done anything that I may not have done awake (ie get a late night snack).  No part of me remembers waking up more than once in the middle of the night and no part of me thinks I would ever put anything in the crib with Brady, iPad included.  It just doesn't fit.

Of course, I had to ask myself why a ghost would put an iPad in the crib with a baby and unplug some cords.  When I was to the point of trying to figure out the logic of a ghost, I knew I had lost it.

So what's the simplest explanation...that I'm going nuts or that the ghost really does exist?

I think I might believe in ghosts.

Life at the beach

We stayed at a beautiful place down in Wilmington this weekend and I'm glad I didn't forget my camera.

A year with the Ugly Doll

I'm have no idea why the wording is showing up off-center, but I'm too tired/lazy to fix it and my window of opportunity for being nostalgic about Brady turning one is closing.  And let's be honest, Brady's future brother or sister will probably not have near the amount of pictures/attention that Brady had, so its probably good I start cutting some corners on my first child.

One Year in a Flash: Brady's party

This should be the last time I talk about Brady's birthday.

His party theme was "One Year in a Flash."  Which I found on Pinterest, of course.  I enjoyed designing and making the invitations and was glad to find a use for a bunch of leftover paper I used for our wedding invitations.

The time capsule idea was what really sold me on the theme.   We'll be burying it (in our attic) until 2030.  We had a lot of fun going through the capsule items after the party (we made sure Brady didn't see).  There was one item that didn't make it back to our house.  Some friends of contributed a bottle of wine and a twinkie as a test of what would hold up better after 18 years.  On the way home, Eric ate the twinkie and I drank the bottle of wine.  Just kidding...we were unloading the car and the bottle met its fate on the pavement.  Twinkie wins.  Luckily, the bottle was in a bag.

We had a the party at a park in Chapel Hill with a big shelter.  Since I decided I would make all the food for the party, there was a lot of preparation that went in to feeding over 50 people.  Which means there was lot of this:

Need to know what aisle the sugar is in?  Brady could probably tell you...in Harris Teeter, Food Lion, and the Kroger, grocery stores all within a 2.5 mile radius of us.  Probably Target too.  Clearly, I'm not very loyal when it comes to my groceries.  Side note:  I went to Food Lion to pick up a jar of dill pickles for the party.  I was having trouble opening them, which caused me to glance down at the expiration date (I admit, I don't always check if it comes straight from the store).  I'm willing to give stores a bit of a break on some things, but the expiration date was January of 2011.  And I've got to imagine pickles have a decently long shelf life, which means these pickles were probably sitting there over 2 years.  I'm not impressed, Food Lion.  Thanks for trying to poison our guests.

Like some things I decide to do, I probably bit off a bit more than I could (or wanted to) chew when I decided to decorate cookies as a party gift.  But I found some camera cookies cutters I couldn't resist.  Why did no one tell me that decorating cookies takes a long time?  And I'm not counting the time it took for me to research how to do them, to go to Michaels to get the supplies (another store Brady is intimately familiar with), and to figure out what Royal Icing was and how to make it.  I realized that I really like decorating them, but maybe next time I'll do 10 instead of 60.

Note the time on the clock.  That's am, not pm...way past my bedtime.

I didn't take many pictures during the party, but took a few before.  The most important...the dessert table.

Sort of forgot to get the other food.  Here's the only picture I got.

Of course, the most important thing:  the people!

It appears my mother-in-law and her sister-in-law go shopping at the same store.

And of course, the cake smash.  Brady was pretty clean about the whole thing.  Probably because we forgot to take his shirt off and he didn't want to get his nice polo dirty.  I've said it before...he's his father's son.

"Mom, you've been holding out on me!"



Cheers to a great first year!

Birthday blues

Well, Brady is one and if his birthday week is any indication of what we have in store for the next year, I may need to be medicated.

It started with the peanut excitement on Friday.  Dave and Claire came Friday night to help celebrate Brady's birthday (and help me prepare for it).  We threw a big birthday bash on Sunday.  As with most 1-year old birthday parties, it was as much a celebration for us for surviving the first year than for Brady.  Although he was invited.

Sunday morning, we all went to church.  One minute, I'm bowing my head for a prayer and the next Eric is poking me telling me Claire had to leave because she was sick.  I gathered our goods and went out to find a pale Claire slumped in a chair after fainting.  And Eric asking her if she knew her name.  She did (eventually) and was fine.

The party went off without a hitch (separate pictures and post to come). Sort of like our wedding, I wouldn't change a thing, but I'd poke you in the eye you if you told me I had to plan another one of those anytime soon.

Yesterday was Brady's actual birthday.  Here's him in the morning, enjoying Grandma and Grandpa Howe's birthday gift.

Here is Brady a few hours later.

Sweet, right?  Yes, until you find out he has a 102 degree fever.  After his afternoon nap, I picked him up and the poor kid was on fire.  So we canceled our dinner plans and snuggled with our sick birthday boy.  The only other time Brady has had a fever was on his 6-month birthday, caused by the shots he got at the doctor.  At this rate, Brady's going to grow up hating his birthday.

He seemed a little better today, but still had a fever.  He woke up from his afternoon nap hot and bothered once again.  I found that showing him YouTube videos of himself cheered him up.  He even clapped for himself when he saw himself make the basket in the bath.  Hmm...love of self...which parent does that come from?

We fed him dinner, gave him a bath, and I had a little de ja vu as Brady broke out in a rash all over his face, exactly the same as he had when he ate peanut butter.  I thought about what we gave him for dinner - as far as I knew Eric didn't slip him any peanuts and Brady had eaten all the food several times before.  Then I felt his head and realized the fever had finally broke.  I wondred if it might be the virus was leaving his body that caused him to break out.  A quick internet search (thanks Google) confirmed that this is a frequent occurance.  But it seems like an awfully strange coincidence that he had an identical reaction to two different things (peanut butter and a virus) in the same week.  Any doctors/nurses out there??  Luckily, we go to Brady's one-year visit on Thursday.  During past visits, the doctor would ask us if we had any questions...I'd rack my brain to come up with one just so I didn't seem like a neglectful mom.  Gone are those days...we'll be bringing out the laundry list this week!

Letters to Brady: One year

For Brady's birthday, we are creating a time capsule to be opened on his 18th birthday.  This is Eric's contribution.

Dear Brady,

I want to first tell you how lucky you are to have such a great mom.  I know you won’t remember your first year of life, but you need to know that your mom has been a superstar.  Starting with your birth, your tough and strong willed mother battled for 13 hours to bring you into this world.  Since that day, your mom has fed, held, cuddled, carried, cleaned, and loved you more than you will ever know.  It might be a good idea for you to learn to say thank you soon after you learn how to say Mama.  You and I are lucky to have such a great woman keeping our family together. 

Now to you, my first born son.  I can’t even begin to explain my emotions on May 21, 2011.  I was so excited, grateful, happy, nervous, and proud to have a healthy baby boy.  However, you didn’t make it a cake walk for your mom and I to enjoy because your first 45 seconds of life you were not breathing.  That may not seem like a long period of time, but believe me when I was standing there holding your mom’s hand listening to the nurses call out the time every five seconds, it felt like an eternity.  To finally hear your cry and see you moving around was the happiest and most thankful moment of my life. 

Since that day, I feel like I can’t spend enough time with you.  I would be lying if I said I was eager to wake up 2, 3, or even 4 times to your cries in the middle of the night.  And I also would be lying if I said that I heard your cries at night.  That’s where your mom has been there for both of us and taken such good care of you.  Still, at 1 year old, you are not sleeping through the night, so starting tonight maybe we can work on that. 

Having you as a son and being a dad has exceeded all of my expectations.  I have always wanted kids and have looked forward to the day when I would have my own, but I never thought it would be this awesome.  Watching you grow and develop and figure things out is so cool to me.  You are an inquisitive, strong-willed, and persistent little boy (you get these traits honestly from mom).  You love to be involved in the action and you don’t like to sit still (handed down from dad).  You don’t think that your size or age should prohibit you from going down a slide or playing games with older kids.  You seem to be fearless and enjoy doing most anything.  All of these things I love about you and I can’t wait to see how you continue to develop in the coming days, months, and years.

I have no idea what you will want to do with your life or what types of things you will want to be involved in.  I just hope that you will work hard, have fun, enjoy what you are doing, and be happy.  It is fun to sit here and see you at 1 year old and wonder and dream about your future.  Just know that your mom and I will always be there to help and support you. 

In 18 years when you read this for the first time, you will be getting ready to graduate high school and head to the college of your choice, with one exception.  I refuse to let you be a Dookie!  There are some things your dad won’t compromise on and this is #1. 

Thank you so much for enriching our life and I wish you a very happy 1^st birthday.  I love you!

Dad      

Aww, nuts.

So we have that kid.  You know, the kid we (Eric) said we'd (he'd) never have.  Momma's boy...check.  Kid with the peanut allergy...check.  Yup, we might as well enroll Brady in the peanut-free school now.  He'll be shunned by the "normal" kids, eating their PB & J while Brady hangs out in the corner with his inhaler and EpiPen. 

It started today.  Since Brady is approaching his one year birthday, I thought I'd share part of my peanut butter sandwich with him at lunch.  He seemed to enjoy it.  The rash that broke out on his chin and face indicated otherwise.  His reaction was mild - no wheezing, trouble breathing, etc - but he definltely had a reaction, and a call to the doctor scared me enough to bring Brady in to be checked.  Note to self: for the next child, introduce him/her to peanut butter a few hours before scheduled doctor visit and save the $35 co-pay.

Well that $35 told me what I already guessed....it appears Brady has a peanut allergy, and has become the kid Eric (ok and me too, one or two times, but only in my head) makes fun of.  When I was working at the Rams Club, a donor called and asked if we could create a peanut-free zone at the football stadium. I laughed (again, inside), but it was sad to me that her son couldn't even go to the football games because if he even sat next to someone eating peanuts, he'd get sick.  I don't think Brady's at that level, but I guess it's something we'll need to think about.  My doctor today said, "I guess no Chik-fil-A for him!" and I nodded my head like I knew what he was talking about.  It took me a while to figure out he was talking about the peanut oil that Chick-fil-A is apparently cooked in.

I won't mention the fact that we have few, if any, allergies on my side of the family.  And that this is clearly a Hoots trait.  Because at a time like this, it's not productive to place blame.  I knew when I married in to the Hoots family, there were some nuts.   Just didn't know my son would be allergic to them!

Note to self: check thesaurus for an alternative to "wait"

Earlier today, I was changing Brady on his changing table.  Lately, it has become clear to me why those tables comes with straps.  Seriously, for a 20 lb kid, he is quite adept at weaseling on to his stomach, then to his feet.  I feel like we're constantly engaged in a wrestling match and I'm trying to take him down to pin him on his back.  We shouldn't be in the same weight class, but let's just say he's talented enough to compete at a higher level.

So I'm faced with a particular messy diaper and as usual, as soon as the diaper comes off, Brady's writhing over, trying to escape and touch/grab everything close.  So I politely pleaded with him, "Please wait, Brady!"  And right on cue, he looked at me with those sweet eyes, raised his sweet hands, and started waving.

I melted, laughed...and then our match resumed.

If the Fresh Prince had kids, this is what he'd say

With Brady's birthday coming up and Mother's Day just completed, I thought I do some reflection.  My first year of motherhood has been a great one, probably the best of my 29 years. So I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there, I'll tell you how I became the mom of a child that I bared (I promise, my rapping starts and ends there). Actually, I'll just tell you what I'm thankful for.

1) A healthy baby.  So many things have to go right in order for a healthy baby to be born.  Yes, the odds are always in your favor that everything will go right, but that doesn't make it any less miraculous when it does.

2) A healthy, happy baby.  First, you want them to be healthy.  But to be healthy and happy...that's a gift that keeps on giving.

3) An great husband.  Sure, he's not perfect...like right now he's snoring on the couch beside me so loud I can hardly hear myself think...but he's very involved and he loves his family, and that can't be said about every dad out there.  And lucky for him, I can't find anything around me close enough to throw at him.

4) Resources. I have a lot of these: financial, emotional, physical.  It's sad for me to think of the babies out there who are looked after by parents without adequate resources.  Having a baby is hard enough when you have everything going for you, but there are lots of people out there (having lots of babies) who don't.

5) Staying at home.  It's not for everyone, but it was absolutely the right choice for me.  I am thankful that I had a great job that I enjoyed, but thankful that it wasn't great (or lucrative) enough for me to look back. 

6) Writing.  It's what I've always loved to do, but it wasn't until I had a baby that I was able to turn it into a job.  Funny how things work out.  Writing is something I can see myself doing 10 years down the road and I'm thankful for the experience I've gotten at Tar Heel Monthly and the opportunity to break in to the field.  Prior to writing for the magazine (and I guess this blog), I'd never written anything that more than a handful of people had ever read, so when I was given the job at the magazine and told to go interview/write, it was thrilling and intimidating at the same time.

7) Running.  Yes, I said it.  I still don't love it, but I no longer hate it, which is certainly progress.  It's still not my excercise of choice, but without access to a gym with childcare, running is the best option.  I downloaded a running app the other day (how have I had a Blackberry for over a year and never knew I could get apps?).  According to my Smartphone, I ran 4.2 miles at a 9:02 minute pace.  Considering there are some killer hills and I was pushing a baby + stroller, I was pretty pleased.  This app might be my downfall, however, because as much as I love to know how fast/long I'm running, it's hard for me to resist the urge to get competitive.  I feel the need to beat my time, end up killing myself trying to do so, and then dread going out to run the next time because I know it's going to be hard. 

8) Kindness of family, friends, aquantainces, and strangers.  I think people are intrinsically good and I think babies help bring out those good qualities.  Sure, some people don't like kids.  You'll always have the guy who will grumble if his seat companion on a flight across the country is a mother and her child, but more often on that same flight, someone will help that mother put her bag in the overhead compartment, pick up the toy car her baby chucked across the aisle, and offer a sympathetic smile if her baby isn't enjoying cruising at 30,000 feet.

I'm trying most to be thankful for the now.  So easy to look forward during the first year wanting to know when the baby will roll/sit/crawl/stand/walk/talk/sleep/etc, but I am trying to soak in the present, even when the present isn't so pretty.

And speaking of not pretty, I promised that my rapping was done, but when you feel the flow, you just can't stop it.   So I'll leave you with this:

We went up to the bed about seven or eight
And I yelled to the baby 'Yo homes feed ya later'
I looked to my famly
I was finally there
I dont get to sleep much but I dont even care

The anti-cleaner

I let Brady crawl around this morning while I was still in bed.  I knew he was at the foot of our bed, but he was out of my sightline.  He was quiet and stayed in the same place for a long time, so I knew he was up to something.

And a couple days ago, after emptying his own drawer, he proceeded to climb in.  Getting out was tougher for him.

And Brady's not into reading, but very into books.

"They were like this when I got here."

And he found our recycling stash.

"Oatmeal squares anyone?"

So clearly, he's in the "taking out" stage.  Anyone want to clue me in on when the "putting back" stage starts?

Nevermind, Eric's over 30 and hasn't hit it yet.

Our trip to the Texas prom

We're back from our trip to Texas.  I'm not sure I can call it a vacation, since my ideas of vacation generally include sleeping in, relaxing, and maybe catching up on my reading.  I did none of those things.  But we still had a great time, and as your life changes, I guess your definition of vacation must as well.

We went to Dallas for one of my old college coach's wedding.  It was great to see so many of my old teammates.  Since the babies weren't invited to the wedding (not that we would have wanted them there), we got together on Saturday afternoon for the kiddos to hang out.  The Radio Flyer was a hit.

Brady getting a free ride from Andy

You can't see Lauren's face, but lets just say she wasn't probably wasn't gazing back affectionately at Brady.  She seemed to be immune to his charm.

So the one mistake we made was waiting until the end of the playdate to snap a group picture.  Although that mistake resulted in this awesome picture below.  Look a the picture and see if you can guess who was ready for a nap.

It was so great to see lots of my old teammates.  Gen's flight got cancelled so she didn't make it to the wedding, but she was still there in spirit, and in this picture.

Tiger ladies

I stayed with Erin and Ryan who acted as both chauffeurs and babysitters (thanks guys) and we took a taxi back to their apartment after the wedding.  Our cab driver asked us if we were going to keep going to school after this year.  I was a bit confused sitting in the back seat: I was thinking maybe he thought we were in college? We realized he was even more off-base when he told us he thought he was bringing us back from the high school prom. Can I even take that as a compliment?  I'd think he was fishing for a good tip, but it's just so completely absurd.

Anyway, my prom date and our baby flew home Sunday and he (the baby) was a trooper on the 3 hour flight.  It was nice to be away, but I'm happy to be home.  Lucky for us, we have some more "proms" and "vacations" coming up this summer!

My geriatric shooter

Brady loves his walker, but I can't get the image of a geriatric patient out of my head whenever he uses it.

Also loves the bathtub and after weeks of training, learned to score the basket (and more importantly, celebrate afterwards).