g'day, g'diaper!

Is this not the cutest little bum cover you've ever seen? We think g'diapers may be the way we go with the whole diaper thing. But we're not sure yet. These are "semi-disposable," meaning if we were on a regular sewer line we could simply flush the liners away to naturally biodegrade in the great beyond (really?). Or we could compost them (poo-less) by tossing them into the woods behind our house. I wonder how that would look/smell 6 months from now???

We will probably cheat at first with disposables, and my friend Carla is giving me her little boy's outgrown cloth diapers, so I am going to try those also. But how, exactly, do you set up a soaking system for your baby's diapers when you have a front-loading washing machine 3 floors down from the changing table? Advice, anyone?

I am sure this will be the first of many little dilemmas we will face in the months/years to come. Now, who can tell me more about formula?

here's rachel....

We made it to Florida! After driving cautiously (thank you, John!) through the icy slush of New Hampshire to get to the airport, we arrived in Tampa to be greeted by 75 degree temps, my brother-in-law, and my niece and nephew waiting in the car in their pajamas and slippers. Joy! I was so exhausted I couldn't sleep that night and spent the next day in a lounge chair basking in the sun and dozing. :)

Friday was our first meeting with the lawyer and birth-mother liason, Alyce, to be followed by lunch with the birthmom, Rachel. We arrived at the law office to find no lawyer as she was called out to the state prison to meet with another prospective birth-mother. Somehow her phone message was deleted from John's phone - he not recognizing the number, the lawyer's name or the part of the message that said, "I have to go down to the prison," as anything having to do with him or us! But we met with Alyce, who we've been dealing with via mail, email and phone over the past 3 months, and it was nice to put a face with her voice.

As we were getting ready to go meet Rachel at Red Lobster, Alyce asks us if we've brought a gift. A gift?!? Who said anything about a gift? Is that customary? I guess so.... So on our way to the restaurant we are searching for a Target, end up lost in a strip of car dealerships, get stuck in holiday mall traffic, and end up 1/2 an hour late for our lunch. Nothing like a little pressure.

But we make it, the meeting goes better than we expected, everyone pretty comfortable with each other. It actually feels real and tangible and highly likely that we will be adopting in a matter of weeks.

Now for a whole new kind of stress.

winter weather woes

Oh, look - it's snowing again!  How pretty, how festive, how NOT!  We are meant to be leaving for Florida in 48 hours on a trip to meet the birthmother of our adoptive baby boy.  Only the weather gods do not look to be on our side. After spending 40 hours (it felt like 4 days!!) this weekend without power, heat or water due to an ice storm, we are not feeling very open-armed about the lovely winter weather forecast for the week ahead. 

Now I can honestly say we are fortunate - unlike 1000s of others - as our power was restored in a relatively short time.  Our pipes did not freeze, no part of our home was damaged, wonderful friends had us over for scaldingly hot showers, and despite the fact that I spent about 8 unplanned (and utterly unenjoyable) hours cleaning our fridge and struggling to salvage the savable items, there was indeed a silver lining. We are finally rid of the 100 or so bottles of moldy condiments that have been collecting on the shelves for the past 4 years. (I exaggerate, but not by much. I LOVE condiments and have a hard time saying no to the pickled okra, red pepper jelly, strawberry compote, jalapeno relish and pumpkin butters of this world. Then I use them - once, or maybe twice - and thereafter they become space-taking sculptural objects in the refrigerator that I don't use yet can't bear to throw away....)

But I digress. It's really the weather that's the issue here, not the fridge.  The blessed Maine winter weather. Unpredictable. Ever-changing. Often icy cold. And completely out of my control. (As if there isn't enough in my life that is already out of my control.)

My plea to the powers that be:

Don't f*#k with our trip - it means a lot to us. This is what we hope will make this whole adoption process seem real to us. At least for where we are at, now. We really don't ask for help too often, so please be kind, okay? We promise to pay it forward, one way or another. Really. We're good for it, I swear. Pretty please? Extra sugar on top?

Fingers crossed..........

No, kitty!

So, it is (hopefully) coming closer to the time when our beloved pets will no longer be our babies, usurped by the baby himself.  I feel guilty already.

  

Elvis (lovingly nicknamed LB, or "Little Bastard") has been part of my life for almost 13 years. My Polish landlady brought him to me one day when I was living in New York, an attempt to cheer me up after my much-loved Miscia cat had died.  LB was fresh from the streets of Brooklyn - a tough little homeless kitty with a HUGE chip on his shoulder and a bad-boy swagger.  He made the move north (not uncomplainingly) when John and I got married in 1998 and over the years has adapted well to life in the "country".  I just don't know how to break it to him that the carry-cot is not his new kitty-bed and am wondering if baby q. will be allergic to the cat hair that is already collecting in it....

And then there is Woody, our one-of-a-kind chocolate lab, who sleeps on our pillows, eats our people-food, kisses us on the lips and accompanies us everywhere.  He is the pet whose someday death I already mourn; he is near-perfect. Will there be time for a game of fetch in the yard once baby comes? Will we still go on winter beach walks? Will Woody be able to tell the difference between his stuffed toys and the baby's? Will we freak out when Woody (inevitably) destroys baby's toys, or slimes him with his slobbery tongue, or when he steals the Cheerios right out of his tiny toddler hand?

I know it will be a no-brainer when the time comes, but right now it all makes me feel sad.

Crap Fairs and other holiday traditions

As an aunt to 10 nieces and nephews I have heard my share of gut-busting anecdotes over the years. My sister-in-law tells a great story about when her boys were toddlers and they thought the craft store was pronounced the "crap" store. I know it's silly, but it still makes me smile.... Anyway, one of these boys is getting ready to graduate from college, but still loves his family enough to join them on the Thanksgiving weekend sojourn to the holiday "Crap" Fair.

You may think I am simply being unkind to the hard-working crafters whose work is displayed at the local civic center each November, but I am not. There really are crap vendors - as in people who sell items they make out of good ol' Maine Moose Poop. Not kidding. In addition to tabletop sculptures and holiday ornaments, you can buy a stunning set of dangling dingleberries to adorn your ears. Perfect, unique gifts for family members/friends who have it all!

In all honesty, this year the moose-poop people were not in attendance at the fair. But my mother-in-law did indeed buy a moose-poop garland for her tree one year at said fair. Only in Maine! Oh, and maybe Alaska.

Gol!

I am no longer a Black Friday shopper, but it is a tradition in my husband's family to make the requisite trip to Marden's, a Maine-based surplus and salvage store where you might find anything from power tools to cosmetics, computer bits, school supplies, clothing, furniture, kitchen cabinets, etc...all at typically low, low prices.

Now, I have to admit I have a love-hate relationship with Marden's. It's too big. Too dirty. I often find nothing of value or need and end up buying something anyway, "because it's such a good deal!" But over the years we have been lucky, finding things like Leica cameras, Burton snowboard gear, living room furniture and more. Still - Friday afternoon finds me moaning and groaning my way through Marden's with my nephews and sisters-in-law, thinking, "Right now I could be in a nice, clean, organized TJMaxx!"

But then my husband John waves from across the store. Waves enthusiastically from across the store. From amid a display of BABY GEAR! Mostly there are strollers, which we do need and which I've been avoiding shopping for at all costs after a harrowing experience at Babies-R-Us. And these are not just any strollers - we are talking high-end strollers - Mutsy, Phil&Teds, Mountain Buggy. And we are talking about my husband, the babyphobe, test-driving the different models as if they are cars...comparing construction, frame sizes and weights, maneuverability, tire size and color-options.

After trying them all out, collecting input from John's sisters and nephews (who knew boys could have so much fun with strollers?!), we ended up buying the Mountain Buggy "Urban" stroller (see pic) with an additional pram attachment (so baby stays cozy during the frigid Maine winter). And we got them at 65% off the regular retail price. Yay.

I'm sorry I doubted you, Marden's!