Life After Babysitting

The first week after Maya went back to being a stay-at-home kid for the summer, I went on kind of a bender and spoiled Geneva rotten. It was the strangest thing, because as happy as I was for Maya to be home with her parents, I had been dreading "losing" her as my little buddy. But there was something about having alone time with Little G after spending so much time as a trio that made me feel like I was on vacation. It only lasted a week, mind you, but I was in the holiday mindset. We baked and ate treats almost every afternoon. We went on at least one fun outing each day of the week. I took special meal requests. We started our mornings with cocoa. 

I have since gotten more lazy calmed down. Of course, we still try to get out and visit with friends or play at the park on a regular basis, and we bake the occasional treat or eat the occasional lavish breakfast. I do miss my Maya, but I'm also thankful for these last few weeks alone with Geneva. She and I have made some new friends, renegotiated nap time (hereafter to be referred to as quiet time), and generally gotten used to our routine as a twosome. It's the new normal... just in time for life to utterly change once more! C'est la vie.

So, how to categorize the pictures I want to share today? I'm afraid "miscellaneous" is the best I can do. They're taken at home, at the park, at the neighbors' house. The photos document significant events (second birthday parties, newborn baby friends) and entirely insignificant ones (Geneva and Maya were both sporting sunglasses). Truth be told, a jumble of pictures seems an apt metaphor for how life feels right now! I'm just going to go with it. Enjoy.

The girls playing in the yard on one of Maya's last days with us.

Celebrating Geneva's second birthday at Randall Park.

Cooling off with the neighbors on one of our first hot(ish) days of summer. 

Three and a Half

Considering our blog is called "The Zoglman Family Adventure Chronicles," there are precious few pictures on here of the entire family. Anyway, here we are, all three and a half of us.

This was at my beautiful cousin Mindie's wedding in Leavenworth a few weeks ago. It was a lovely day-- warm sun, cool breeze, gorgeous mountain setting, and of course a very happy and well-suited couple becoming husband and wife.

My aunt Janet commented while we were there that it seems like funerals and weddings are the only way to get the whole extended family together anymore. And even though my gratitude is not reflected in the photographs I took (they were almost exclusively of Geneva-- and I see that yahoo every day!) I was delighted to get to see so many wonderful people for the first time in way too long. Thank goodness for weddings!

Brevity is a virtue

You may remember that a couple of years ago I wrote a VERY long post detailing a rather unpleasant evening filled with useless contractions, disappointment, and general discomfort. This time around I'll keep it short.

False labor stinks.

Two Years Ago: a love letter

On June 9th, 2009, Geneva Lynn was born.

Two years ago I didn't know I could nurse while walking. Two years ago I had never had someone else's poop under my fingernails. Two years ago I'd never attempted to make pink horsey pancakes. Two years ago I did not routinely sing or narrate my actions at the grocery store. Two years ago if someone vomited I did not lunge to catch it. Two years ago I said "cocoa" and "milk" instead of "tocoa" and "milkies." Two years ago I could not have understood how much my parents love me, simply because I had never experienced it firsthand.

I get it now. I know what it is to be so fascinated with another human being that you can hardly bear to blink. I know how to love someone in such a weird, fanatical way that even her farts seem precious. I know that there is something fierce living within me now, something that would rise up and make me strong, even terrifying, if my child were ever threatened. I will forever be a better person for having been a mother, and that knowledge makes me adore her all the more.

And how could I not? Even if that primitive part of my brain weren't screaming at me to nourish and protect my offspring, I would still be head over heels for her. I love that she makes jokes by quoting Beatrix Potter at opportune moments. I love how enthusiastic she is about gardening. I love that she voluntarily runs through the sprinkler in fifty degree weather. I am proud of her every day for being such a perceptive, articulate person, and for the kindness she is already learning to show others. No daughter I could have imagined would have turned out half as good as the one I got.

Happy birthday, sweetest Geneva Lynn. Welcome to being two. I love you more than you can ever know... unless you have a daughter of your own someday.

June 9th, 2009

June 9th, 2010

June 9th, 2011

What's the opposite of debunking?

...Bunking, of course! And that's what we did to Geneva's room: we bunked it.

When I was two I helped my daddy put together a bed. I stabbed him in the eye with a screwdriver. Geneva refrained from inflicting injury, and was in fact a very good helper. I, on the other hand, was basically useless during the assembly of this bed. I took pictures of Geneva scattering key pieces of hardware around the room, and I don't think Avery was much amused. I'm glad he's forgiving-- and quite the handyman!


Once the mattresses had been delivered, Monkey Child spent about ninety seconds in the bottom bunk before deciding that the top was, as they say, where it's at. At nights we still require her to sleep on the bottom, but I did take a nap up on top with her once and I can see the appeal. I always wished I had a sister with whom to share a room, and bunk beds figured heavily into that fantasy. I kind of imagined it would be like a non-stop sleepover, or maybe summer camp. Geneva and Lavender will have to report back to me about the reality of room-sharing, but my guess is that like all social endeavors, sharing a small space with another person will come with its ups and downs. My advice to the girls will be this: 1) focus on the ups rather than dwelling on the downs, and 2) sorry Lavender, but Geneva technically has "dibs" on the top.

And so we've successfully transitioned our girl from crib to toddler bed to bunk. I want to say a BIG thank you to Robert and Melba, who provided the bunk frames, and to Geneva for Avery's two functioning eyeballs.

Bathtub Time Lapse Photography

 Geneva and Maya, March 6, 2010....

...and June 1, 2011.

Over the course of fifteen months their rolls became sparser, their hair grew in thicker, their baby bodies started looking like those of toddlers, or-- dare I say it-- little kids. Still, some things remain unchanged: same eyes, same smiles, same love for each other. And of course, the same fondness for bathtime.

Hear Me Roar

As a woman planning a homebirth during a season when most people's windows are open, and in a very quiet neighborhood, I'm wondering how much apology/explanation will be necessary when labor rolls around for realsies. Should I buy everyone on the block a nice Starbuck's giftcard to make up for awakening them, possibly in the wee hours of the morning, with the banshee cry that can only be brought on by a crowning baby? Should I hire a landscaper to come and cut the grass when the contractions really start to hurt, thereby muffling the sounds of labor and diverting everyone's ire from me to "that damn lawnmower"? Should I just have the baby and trust that everyone will be cool with this rare and miraculous event, loud though it may be?

Even on a street populated (mostly) with exceptionally cool people, it somehow seems too much to ask.



And yes, I am a writhing blob of hormone-fueled neuroses right now, thank you for asking!