On the cooling rack: Baby Shower Menu #1

We spent the summer in Utah for Ted's internship, then returned to NC where I instantly became deeply entrenched in food planning/buying/prepping.

This first shower was put on by a committee of five friends because when we heard our friend was pregnant, we all insisted to help. I was first to offer, however, so I was in charge of whatever I wanted, which of course was food. But to just divvy out the house, decorations, drinks, and photographer to other people and get their help with the food anyway? Couldn't have been better. Here's the outcome.

The lemonade stand and handmade wreath:

The table:

The food:
Caprese Paninis on Sourdough or Nine Grain

Taste test:

Bell Pepper Slaw:

Mushroom Risotto in the cutest little individual cups ever:

Fruit skewers:

Various finger foods included the Most Incredible Lemon Bars Ever (not the real name, but should be), Oreo balls (Marianne's specialty), finger sandwiches, and sliced s'mores (the pregnant lady had been craving them).

Basically we had dessert first, in the middle, and at the end, a Mille Crepe Cake:

This thing was fabulous. Twenty crepes, each layered with a thin spread of raspberry pastry cream lightened with whipped cream, bruleed on top, and served with fresh berries and lemon curd. For a first time and for something off the beaten path (you know I'm a chocolate girl), this cake was to die for. I saw it on an episode of "The Best Thing I Ever Ate" on the food network and knew I could come pretty close to replicating it. Crispy sugary top, creamy and crepe-y layers, hints of raspberry and lemon, oh heaven.

Action shot:

I've gotta get a brulee torch that means business. I made two of these cakes for the number of guests we had, and by the time I was done burning all the sugar, my hands HURT. That button you have to press the whole time is a doozy. And it was a good thing I brought extra butane.

You can't see it in this shot, but my first two fingers on my right hand are bandaged up from slicing them open on my fancy mandoline for the bell pepper slaw. Word to the wise - when the instructions say to use the safety thinger dinger, use it. I bled all over Annee's kitchen.

Guest of honor:

Ha! Nice placement of the crib mattress, Syphus. Gee whiz. Anyway, Melissa looked radiant her whole pregnancy and since I take forever to get blog posts up these days, her baby is now two months old. I know, I'm so embarrassed.

Creation: Crocheted Newsie Cap

My friend had her baby and named him Hank. Come on - I HAD to make this kind of cap:

I thought it was so teensy, but I took it over there and his little head was swimming in it. However, it's been a few months and his head is just about big enough for these cold months. He's a stylin' little kid.

Creation: Crocheted Baby Blanket

I really need to take more pictures of the stuff I make, and I should do that before I give them away. I actually did remember to throw this on the bed before folding it up to give to one of my best friends for her 4th baby. I was pretty proud of it. I found the main pattern in a generic stitch book, but made it nice and big (don't you hate baby blankets that are too small? Maybe I'm tainted because my babies are too big...) and then finished it with a border of my own design. Don't ask me what the pattern is. I made this back in June and can't remember for the life of me how I did it.

Anyway, my friend has since had her baby girl and she named her Brooke Allison. I still can't get over it.

Late Night Boy Toy

No, not THAT kind of boy toy.. perverts. I made this little monster toy for a shower a while back, and it all happened so fast I forgot to post it. The basketball in the monster's hand is NOT some sort of applique gimmick that places like Carter's and Circo insist on employing. Both parents are legitimately awesome basketball players, and the dad just graduated from UNC. You like how I slipped Duke Blue in there? heh. heh.

This is unfortunately the only picture I took of the Little Monster. Like I said, it happened pretty quickly and I finished it in the wee hours of the morning. Not exactly prime photo-op time. So I'm sad you can't see it, but my favorite part of this little guy is that snaggletooth. I did a satin stitch into a long triangle, but I don't have a fancy machine, so while I was holding the fabric with one hand, I had to perfectly move my stitch width selector with the other. I was sweating legitimate bullets as the rest of the face had already been embroidered and satin-stitched. But it came out perfect. Yay for me. Oh yeah, and yay for little C. He must have been a tiny little runt, because in that picture, Mom is 38 weeks pregnant. Some people!

Creation: Stitched 'Scream

A friend of mine recently had an adorable baby girl. She requested no gifts at her restaurant baby shower because this was her third baby and second girl, but come on - even third children need a few new things, right? As a 6th child, I understand how annoying hand-me-downs can get (esp when they're from one's brothers), so along with a little outfit (bought, not made - I'm not that good yet) I crocheted a toy ice cream cone. It's got little jingle bells in there for extra fun.

I used the pattern from this book but added the picot stitch around the bottom of the ice cream so it looked more like a scoop.

Welcome to the world, Lucy! You've got a rad family who will take you for real 'scream when you're old enough!

He's here!

Introducing...

Dean Olin Ririe

born August 9, 2010

9:45 am

9 lbs 12 oz

aka "Fatty"

With a scheduled c-section, there isn't quite as much drama attached to the birth story. No frantic rides to the hospital, no death threats from spouses, no "I was in the middle of saving the whales when my water broke" scenarios. Instead, I woke up early Monday morning, took a shower, drove myself to the hospital, checked myself in, and waited for Ted to arrive. He had taken Tessa to a friend's house while I was getting settled, and other than my veins collapsing every time they tried to put in an IV (I ended up getting stuck 5 times), everything went as planned. My nurses and doctors were absolutely fantastic from beginning to end, Ted was supportive and encouraging, and my mom came the next day with a whole pound of See's candy to speed my recovery.

Ted picked up our daughter a little later to bring her to the hospital because I missed her already. She was quite enamored with the "BEH-beeeee!" and I can only hope it lasts.

One of my first snuggles with the little cub.

When you schedule your own child's birth, you have less of a "nesting instinct" and more of an "impending deadline." The upside to scheduling is you have time to put makeup on for better "after" pictures. The downside is that you get put on morphine (well, it can be considered an upside, too. Let's be honest) which makes your whole body itch for about 24 hours. So after a day of rubbing, scratching, and pulling at my face as if I had a whole-body mosquito bite, I looked more like a typical woman who just gave birth (see photo below. eeks!).

The new "us". Welcome to the family, Dean!

The day before we became four

It is the eve of (?)'s birth. I felt it was important to document it while I was wearing makeup, for it may be quite a long time before that happens again.

Sure, I can laugh about it now...

When you visit one particular grocery store about twice a week (lots of ice cream sales lately!), you start to recognize or even strike up conversations with some of the familiar faces. And you begin to learn who's generally friendly and who to steer away from.

I came through one day last week with a moderate-sized grocery load. I'm leaning over the cart unloading the things onto the conveyor belt while Tessa is flirting with whomever is behind us. The checker, a girl who looks like she's maybe in her early 20s (if not younger), is expressionless as she beeps every item across her scanner. She did her requisite "Hey. How are you today" sentence (I won't call it a "question" because it had none of the voice inflection of someone inquisitive, let alone sincere) as she carried on, and completely disregarded my chirpy response (I happened to be in a pretty good mood that day, considering).

But the defining moment was when she held up one of my produce bags containing some beautiful hand-picked greens to her face level and asked, in that same annoyed monotone, "What are these?" Except her version was, "whuddatheez." I half-grinned (which ticked her off even more) and said, "Brussels sprouts", and she let out the most exasperated sigh because that meant she had to look up the number on her sheets of paper. I mean, why doesn't each individual sprout come with a sticker to help out poor people like that!

Then she made some snide comment to the bagger about Cheetos when she saw I was buying some of those, too. Apparently, she hates "stuff with cheese on 'em". And of course I'm an idiot for enjoying those crunchy, neon orange love puffs.

Fast forward to yesterday. I was actually going to be in a public place (the hospital where I'm scheduled to give birth Monday morning), so I spent a little more time looking somewhat presentable, both for myself and for the sake of the nursing staff who will soon be my godsends. Once again, I was in a good mood. I got to have a lengthy phone conversation with my brother on my way to the hospital (for preliminary blood work), I looked relatively cute (which is a stretch to say considering the sheer mammoth of this belly now, AND my doubled chin that doesn't disappear when I hold my head up higher), and I was excited to be getting one step closer to meeting this little boy who has called my womb home for the last 39+ weeks. I called Ted on my way home and mentioned that since Tessa was still napping (he was at home with her), I'd go run to the store real quick for milk and bananas. And all the great cereals were 50% off. I consider it food storage.

Anyway, I see a line that has NO ONE IN IT! Every other line was full because of the 5:00 hour, so I waddle on over to it and start unloading. Then I realize why it's empty. Annoyed Monotone is there, sitting on her duff picking at her nails. I must not be the only one who knows what this means: I'm in for it again.

She's once again expressionless and insincere until I move from behind the scanner thing and she gets a look at my belly. Keep in mind that I thought I looked pretty good for 9 1/2 months pregnant. Her now famous line in our household:

"How many you got in there."

Again, not a real question. I wasn't sure I heard her right, so I tried to cover all my bases.

"I have one at home, and there's just one in here (pointing to belly)."

"Look like you gots twins. Cuz you big."

..................

......................................

Thought process: [Is she joking? Did she really say that to me? Don't females know to never insinuate largeness to other females unless you have a personal vendetta against them? Does she have a personal vendetta against me? How is that possible? I just buy groceries here!]

..........................................

Dash it all. And may God strike your skinny little body to blow up to balloon proportions if you're ever lucky enough to land a man long enough to get you pregnant, you rude little snot.

"Hey Allison, how are you feeling?"

I thought I would let our 17-month-old show you how I look and feel lately.

Of course, my belly isn't filled with dominoes that Ted stuffed down my dress. MY belly is filled with something ELSE that Ted somehow got in there.

And despite the worry I have for transitioning from one kid to two, I'm wanting him out.

Countdown: two weeks and six days.

Another milestone

Today I had to purchase our first baby gate, and in doing so, realized those things don't fit inside a Target cart ("buggy", if in the South) very well. Tessa gnawed on the box while we were shopping, so it looks like a keeper.

She has moved out of the army scoot and into actual crawling. We realize she's behind the norm, but I haven't minded as it has meant I've only had to have one eye on her instead of two. Those days are quickly diminishing. Case in point: the other night she thought our kitchen garbage receptacle would be strong enough to anchor her 30 pound (no joke) frame, and only pulled up on it because she could see from the overflow that there were strawberry tops and a chicken carcass, and that girl will go to any lengths for a bite (yesterday I pulled a dead ladybug out of her mouth, bitten perfectly in half - jury is still out on whether it was alive or not when it went in). Alas, the garbage toppled over onto her stunned and chubby body, and Ted had to mop up the floor because I said it would make a pregnant woman gag (I'm very good at lying).

At this point, I'm reconsidering having baby #2, but since I'm 20 weeks, it's not likely I can go back on that decision. We made it when #1 was still immobile, and my naive brain figured I could handle one, even if it was crazy, since Tessa was so good-natured. Note to self: children grow up and get into everything. Occasionally they break some things, and in our case, eat most things. Be advised whenever you revisit another "having another child" conversation.

Oh, and tomorrow will be "pulling out the maternity clothes" day. I can't stuff my lower gut into my regular jeans anymore, even though they do have stretch (and thank the fashion gods for that!). Poor kid's going to come out with a zipper impression across its backside.

Creation: "Converse" high-top booties

Last week I went to a baby shower for a new friend who's having her first baby in a few weeks - a boy. Her husband was nicknamed "Playa" (as in player, not the Spanish word for beach) by Ted because, well, he looks like a playa. But he's in medical school, so I guess he's a smart playa. Anyway, I thought these would be perfect for their offspring.





I am certainly not clever enough to come up with the pattern myself. I got it here, and they took me a LONG time since it was only the 6th thing I've crocheted since teaching myself from this fabulous book. Thanks again for it, Ted!

First Birthday, pt 2

I finally got my gloms on Ted's camera and therefore present to you the aftermath of the cake frenzy. I think the video is my favorite. Had she taken a more substantial nap before the festivities began, I'm sure we would have seen it in her hair and such, but even so, she ate that whole piece. She's my chubby love-bug.

A quick picture and a quick whisk into the tub. Note to self: chocolate cake looks like poo.

We gave her a present after she got all cleaned up. This was my first attempt at applique.

She woke up later that night with a serious sugar high, but I don't think she cared. Happy Birthday!

Past Due: Second Notice

I went in for a Non-Stress Test yesterday. I didn't know what they were until this whole ordeal called "getting knocked up", so I'll quickly explain that it's where they monitor the baby's heart rate in conjunction with any contractions or baby's movement. They're making sure the heart rate goes up when there's a contraction and you lie there for 20-30 min until there are enough movements to ensure the baby's doing fine. I was only there for 15 because this baby was moving all over the place. At least 4 times, some doctor or nurse poked her head around my curtain, looked at the printout from the computer and said, "Ooh! Happy baby!" I could have told them that - there's just no hope of her emerging. Maybe one of you has informed her how much nicer it is in there compared to the horror of meeting her crazy and bumbling parents. In that case, I don't blame her.

But then there was a glimmer of hope. One doctor came in and began to tell me they would schedule me for another similar test over the weekend since the baby seemed to be doing great in there and since I had PLENTY of fluid (and there I was thinking, "Ooh! Quick weight loss!" I'm so awful). And then she checked my vitals. Here's the lowdown.

There's now some protein in my urine.
My blood pressure spiked 7 points in two days and more over the course of the last two weeks.
They didn't like the swelling in my feet (not that I can blame them).

I don't (as yet) have any visual problems, headaches, or liver pain, but all of these are signs of oncoming preeclampsia (which can lead to seizures for me and low food and oxygen for the baby, among other things), so after discussing with another doctor and two nurses, the group concluded I need to be induced. They gave me an option of tomorrow (now today) or the next. I chose Friday the 13th. heheheehehehe

Wish us luck!

Happy Birthday to ME, and ONLY to me!

It has historically rained on most of my birthdays I can remember, and when it hasn't, I've had to work. But this year, I've been on maternity leave AND the sun came out! The day had "potential" coming out of its ears!

I lived up my morning with some much-needed sleep, some incredible wake-up kissing and part of a Toblerone for breakfast, shortly followed by bacon and mango nectar for lunch. Ted fried up the bacon himself, but only after I stuck out my lower lip and requested it for my birthday. He redeemed himself with its crispy goodness and fabulous gifts later on that night.

After my taste buds calmed down a bit, I thought about what I wanted to do for the day. Well, by golly, I wanted to walk around and get this baby out! So I called my friend Megan to accompany me to Descanso Gardens (she's off-track teaching, kidless, and was lying around in a robe reading about genetic anomalies when I called). I brought my camera and we had a ball. A few years ago, when we lived together, we decided to take a 10-day trip to Hawaii for our birthdays (they're 6 days apart). We had a ball then, too, and we talked about how glad we were that we did that before husbands and pregnancies flew into the mix. She's 10 weeks, and I'm 40+. Here's a shot that brought up the lush memories of that awesome trip:



And here are a few more shots out in the beautiful sunshine:





And a very cool goose. It was not shy, and since I was on a roll with having what I wanted to eat on my birthday, I fantasized about a nice orange glaze all over this rotisseried sucker. Alas, "don't feed (on) the animals".



Now, Ted has tried to put his foot down about my lack of a filter. To that, I say he knew what he was getting into when he knelt in front of me with that ring. So if there's a finger to point anywhere, SWEETIE...

That said, Megan and I couldn't pass up this photo op:



In case the message isn't large enough,



They claim it's the name of a particular owl. But come on - who was inebriated in the taxonomy office that day?

We enjoyed a bit more sunshine on one of the many benches that surround the place and then my mind wandered to that little white and black shop perfectly situated on the corner of the two streets that lead to the Gardens. I asked Megan if her pregnancy was letting her tolerate sugar. She said she could do it (lucky little tramp), so we headed out to indulge ourselves.




Megan told me she's never been into a See's candy shop to just buy a few pieces for herself. WHAT?? It's my godsend! For the past several weeks, I've visited one of these shops right after my OB appointment since it's just down the street and I feel I have to reward myself after peeing all over my hand trying to get that blasted stream inside the cup. Anyhoo, I think I found a convert. What chocolate joys! Thank you, Mary See, for blessing my life over and over again. God has a place reserved at His right hand for you, I'm sure.

Ted had asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday as far as dinner, and I have had serious cravings for Cheesecake Factory's Avocado Eggrolls with that amazing tamarind cashew sauce. It's an appetizer, so I just ordered that so we'd have room for four desserts. The banana cream cheesecake was the decorated one because I felt I should get some nutrition during my indulgent day. The others weren't as good for me.





Thank you to all the friends and family who showed up last minute! With this baby past due, I feel a bit like a ticking time bomb, so Ted's email to the group included a caveat about reserving the right to cancel at the last minute due to bathroom floor flooding and spousal ring-of-fire pain, but this little girl showed her first instance of blind obedience and didn't bother mommy's special day. Now I won't have any problem loving her!

Past Due: First Notice

I had my membranes stripped today. I've never been so eager to be stripped in my life. Well, maybe not NEVER, but still.

Yesterday was my due date, so as Shannon put it, I'm now "looking at my due date from the rear view mirror." And my birthday is tomorrow. I've made no small deal about forbidding this child to come on my birthday, but I know she's going to do it anyway, just to spite me. She's already pushing my buttons!

I went to my scheduled OB appointment this morning, and it started off pretty routine: pee in this, step on the scale, smear this on your belly, etc. Then my doctor walked in, looked at me and said, "Still pregnant, huh?" "Tell me about it." She then said she'd check my cervix (finally! This is the first time since my 3 month appointment that they've offered to put something up there!) and then offered to "strip the membrane" meaning separating the cervical opening from the amniotic bag. I know, TMI. Whatever. But I'm at 2 cm dilated, she stretched me to 3 with the stripping, then said I had a high pain tolerance when I asked, "Is that it?" Apparently some of you women out there think that's a pretty medieval procedure. Personally, I was happy to have any progress whatsoever.

This past weekend, we've tried some of these "home remedies" to get things going. I've gone on long walks, purchased and self-administered castor oil (and got the sweaty shakes with no contractions), invited my masseuse friend over, tried vigorous joining behavior, and yesterday after church, Ted even tried shaking a bag of peanut M&Ms and wafting their fumes near my birth canal to try to lure her out.

Saturday night was a birthday gathering for my old friend and former roommate, Megan, who was born 6 days before me. She announced at the party that she is 2 months pregnant (congratulations!) and is therefore still in the sick stage. So we took a picture of the two of us, her just starting, and me trying to end.



I'm kidding. We really don't feel that way, so we had to take a more realistic pose:



So, anyhoo, I really am taking any suggestions for inducing labor at this point. A friend of mine said margaritas were a good idea, so just to be sure, I had two. Ted didn't seem to mind the "imbibing." (Before anyone runs out and calls Child and Family Services, don't worry, those are the most virgin drinks ever made)



Do I need to send our child its first eviction notice? Her lease is up at nine months, and I don't see any rent paid for an overstayed welcome.

Master of his craft

Hav, a fabulous artist, came down from the trees of Oregon for his birthday weekend to attend some art shin-digs. While he was here, he came to church and smiled at me from the back of the chapel. I nabbed him after the meeting to do to me what he'd done to 3 other women, including his wife: sketch the Da Vinci fetus on my growing (grown?) belly. He was almost as excited as I was at the prospect, so while Ted left the house to do a ministering visit, I had a swanky visitor of my own. I got 1/4 naked for him, and this was the result:

 

I apologize to him for not having quite the perfect canvas, but I loved it nonetheless.

72 Degrees and 100% Chance of Showers

I've been on maternity leave for a week now, which is supposed to mean I should be lounging, elevating, snacking, napping, reading, and snoozing. When I'm not doing any of those things, I'm supposed to be relaxing. Or so they say.

In actuality, I had to write down a list entitled "Before Baby Comes", and if Becky is reading this, we really don't know what her name is yet. We're not just being secretive. And if we did, we'd certainly tell you before we told Kathleen. :)

To get back on track, it's a long list. The most intimidating entry was "write thank-you notes" for the two baby showers that were very graciously thrown me (and the baby, but really, me). It was intimidating because of the sheer number of notes I needed to write. The shower in Utah was great - intimate, best friends and sisters-in-law (and one mother-in-law) present, and a lot of laughing and good advice. The shower in California was a madhouse. All told, there were about 70 people packed into one house, and the mountain of cute packages was an obviously daunting task.



Before launching in to the opening frenzy (and it was seriously a frenzy. I was hot and sweaty by the end of it), I made some stupid joke about it looking better than Christmas growing up. You know, you come into the family room with the presents piled everywhere and you think of how many things you're going to get and you're so excited you can hardly breathe, but then you realize the loot is divided up between 9 siblings and two parents, so you end up with 4 things, one or two of which aren't what you wanted at all. But at your baby shower, they're all for you! And since every friend and family member has cute taste (and how can you have BAD taste for a baby girl??), everything was perfect! If you can get past my double chins and the belly dropping into my crotch, I thought I'd post a few photos. This was a blanket my visiting teacher made. LOVE the orange and the dots - perfect.



These were four of the ladies who took care of the fabulous food. We became pals during our freshman year in college and ended up settling down in SoCal together, so 4 weddings, 7 kids, and 2 feti later, here we are, in all our glory.



I believe I'd made mention a time or two about my love for peanut M&Ms (I registered for large bags of them on our baby registry - despicable, I know). Well, it paid off.



I need to take a picture of it, but a friend I grew up with even knitted me a hand-sized peanut M&M, brown with the white "m" on the front. She put a little rattle inside it. The baby will not be touching it. It is mine.

To make myself feel better, I'm including a picture of two women who are/were due within days of me. Melanie, the girl in pink, *update* had her baby yesterday morning - a big boy, and Doris is due about ten days after me. We get together at church and have misery sessions together. No details given at this point.



With so many like-minded women in one spot, there were bound to be some duplicates of things, and there were, much to the disappointment of the duplicate givers. I've been there, and I've personally felt saddened that the present I gave wasn't original or necessary or whatever. To those folks, I say: the baby is going to be spitting up or pooping on everything, so I figure I'll use the duplicate while the other is in the wash.

What was extremely UNexpected was this duplicate. Are these shoes to die for or what??



One of the givers told me a week or so before the shower that she had just bought my shower present and was SO excited to give it to me, for obvious reasons. I opened hers first and couldn't help but comment that I used to have a pair of underwear that looked just like them and that they'd been my favorite pair out of my entire collection (which was extensive and ridden with personality). Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a duplicate pair - for a one-year old dear. Oh, how I laughed! Am I that predictable??



Ladies, thank you for a VERY memorable and sweet shower. I had a ball, and this baby is going to be dressed to the nines. I will be reminding her over and over how lucky and loved she already is.