Ah, winter

About two weeks ago, someone at the preschool said, "Well, if it snows next week, then what will we do about lessons?," referring to her son's piano lessons. Knowledgeably, I shook my head and said, "I've lived here just about my whole life. It won't snow - don't worry about lessons."

Eighteen inches later, my chagrin overwhelms me. I am not relishing the thought of seeing that lady in January.

But, besides the weather, things have been pretty good. Two weeks off! Actually, two and a half, as I had from Wednesday to Friday off last week due to inclement weather. In the grand tradition of the women of my family, I feel like I have done nothing, although my home is now (relatively) clean, I have multiple batches of soups, Christmas cookies, and baby food made, and all but one present bought and wrapped. My darling husband lovingly bought me a gift-wrapping set, which included a wrist tape dispenser, and two gift wrapping cutters which are ingenious. If I get nothing else for the holidays, those cutters ought to do me a good long while. I'm writing this, of course, where Kam will never find it. He likes playing games online, and doesn't really count on my blogging too much. :-)

Elizabeth is talking now - kind of. She's making intentional noises, which sound like words, and which the male members of the household relish, as they all tend towards "Dad" (full with a finishing consonant) and "Pa Pa," which my upstairs neighbor insists is GrandPa, if only we have ears to hear. She said both of these "words," of course, weeks before she decided to try out "Mama," but when she did my heart went aflutter and I got all choked up, so I don't think I'll probably forget the slight to my vanity until she's in high school and never spends time with me. Then, I'll slyly bring up that she didn't even say Mama until she'd already said Dad and Pa. I'm sure that Dr. Dobson would consider that good parenting.

Other than that, the big news on the Wilkinson Family Home Front is: As of January 30, we will be a completely debt-free family! YAAAAAAY! hip hip, HOOORAY! I finished my obligation to Central in November, and Kam has only two (albeit, rather large) debt payments to go, one this month and one next, and then all of our income that isn't going to tithe, utilities, food, gas, etc. will be savable, investable and OURS! And, seeing as I just had to close my piano and flute studio to any more students, and Kam is being evaluated for a raise, we should be in a pretty good situation.

Well, Liza's letting me know she wants to get started on her holiday excerpt, so this is the end of our family update!

Some autumn images

Fun at Nana's

Pure Delight

Happy with Daddy

Our Little Pumpkin

What a life!

I've sat down a few times to write since the last time I blogged (was it really July? Amazing how time flies when you're too busy to notice!) A lot of great things have happened, a lot of growing, and a lot of answered prayers.

Liza is now officially a kid. Well, in my eyes, anyhow. She's got four, count 'em, 4 teeth, two on top and two on bottom, which she proudly displays when she's tickled about something (or more frequently, by someone... most often, her momma). In fact, the only time she staunchly refuses to show off her toothers is when someone puts their fingers in her mouth to try to open it and view them. Not that I can blame her. How gross.

She can crawl up a storm, which makes her parents both sigh with joy and quake with fear. Her mobility has prompted Kam and I to teach her a few new words (besides, "Momma and Poppa love you" and "You little pooper"), words that she's not to fond of - namely, stern-sounding "No's." We try to teach her this word when she's exploring electrical cords, making a tentative go at the stairs, or deciding to nibble on mom. Her response is usually to look at us with a darling, but very serious, look of consideration and back off, in time. We thought for a little while that maybe she wasn't old enough to understand implications and consequences - how is an infant going to understand "No?" Then, yesterday, she started crawling for the stairs again, but right before she got there, she looked back at Kameron to see if he was watching her. When she saw that he was, she ducked her head under as if to hide herself, then crawled faster toward the stairs. We caught her just in time.

I'd say that she understands.

Kam has a new job that pays better, keeps him active, and is (best of all) DAYS! He's enjoying it, and I'm sure it won't take him long to become top employee - it's a habit of his. He came home on Friday to tell me, "I'm just sure that there's a better way to do some things around there!" Like Joseph, eh? What a great husband I have! And the best daddy, too. I should quit bragging...

My jobs are going well. I am really enjoying my work with the kids at the Montessori, and I find that it's helping me tremendously with my piano and flute lessons. And great news: my studio is FULL! 16 students fills up all of my slots for lesson times, and it's giving us an extra boost financially.

The only hitch in my giddiup has been a conflict that I forsaw a while ago, but will hopefully be resolved soon. Classes started this week, and results from auditions are back. Turns out, they want me to be principal in orchestra and band. This sounds more impressive than it is; there are only 6 flutes in the entire department, so even though I'm top man on the totem pole, relatively I'm not that far up from the floor. Besides being a huge time commitment, band falls right in the middle of my work schedule, three days a week. I'll try to keep you posted on how this works itself out (so far they're thinking that a scholarship will patch things up. I'm not so sure...).


Well, Liza is letting me know that my blogging break is over - better go be Mom!

A little chagrined...

I got convicted.

I went shopping last week - I had just gotten some new students, and I was in desperate need of some new shoes, fast. I found the ones I wanted: Fitflops, brand new thing, great arch support (which I don't think I've ever had in shoes), and supposed to work your legs out while you're walking, but definitely a splurge: $50.

I bought them in spite of the price, and walked out of the store a very proud lady. When I got home I noticed that from walking on some dusty ground, my brand new, white flip flops had gotten dirt on them. Immediately I got a paper towel and cleaned them off, careful to make sure I'd gotten every smudge, and then stood back and looked at them proudly.

Then I looked at the clock. 5 pm and my husband was still not up. Unfortunately, my first response was to get miffed. Hadn't Elizabeth been throwing fits all day, and I'd worked hard, while he got to lay around and sleep all day? Like I was going to let that slide for a minute. Never mind that he had worked hard on night shift and needed as much extra sleep as he could get. My back hurt, the baby was fussy and I was going to let him know it.

I got myself into a pretty good huff, and went downstairs. "Do you want to keep on sleeping?" Innocent words, but my sensitive man got the message loud and clear: "I'm not happy." He woke out of his sleepy haze long enough to ask, "What's wrong?" very nicely before I left the room, planning in my head how I could make him feel guilty for sleeping eight and a half hours instead of eight, when he could have been that spending time with me.

But as I left the room, I took a look at those shoes. Bright white and squeaky clean, they might as well have had this plastered across them:

"Am I more important than your husband?"

I felt that sinking feeling down in the pit of my stomach that I've come to know from doing more than one thing I'm not too proud of. Just as I had finished valuing some shoes by treating them well and keeping them up, I went and slung dirt on my husband's spirit. I'd been selfish and wanted my husband to fix my "bad" day, and I'd shown that material things meant more to me than someone infinitely more valuable.

I waited for Kam to get up, then I threw my arms around him and kissed him. "I love you, honey. Thank you so much for being great."

Of course, this totally threw him; he was still back in the "What's wrong with her?" scene. But I didn't explain. I just figured, I'll change.

And I have, and am.

Excerpt from Manuscript E

Day 174 after I saw the light:

I met a new baby a few days ago.

My interactions with those of my same approximate size have been limited, to say the least. The Mom and the Dad need to get out more; my social life has been seriously stunted by their shut-in habits. I've met the small child called "Grublet" that the Auntie Meg carries around, and we seem to have a mutually understood relationship. I sometimes look at him, he sometimes looks at me, I sometimes try to eat him, and he's ok with it.

This new kid, however, did not understand this sort of relationship. He was a little bigger than me, and had a lot of dark stuff all over his head. Neither Grublet or I have any stuff, dark or light, on our heads, so immediately I knew this kid was up to no good. He seemed alright at first; we were both sitting on the big people's laps, expressing our needs and (as usual) not receiving near enough attention. They kept blah blah blahing to each other, and spent a ludicrously small amount time, proportionally, fawning over us. Oh well - I'm learning to endure it.

Back to the story. We were both sitting on laps, and for a while I thought that he understood that our limited rapport was going to be the rule, not the exception. I looked at him, he looked at me - a couple times he made noises at me, which was cool with.

How could I have known?

It started out peacefully enough. The big people got up from the table and went to the green area, where they set me on a blanket and proceeded to yell and laugh and generally leave me out. Since this sort of thing happens all the time nowadays, I've learned that, as the Mom sometimes says, "Sister's gotta do it for herself," and I did what I could on the blanket. I've become quite adroit at going from my back to the tummy, and back again, as long as I have a motive. It's usually my pink kitty, or cords on the floor, or whatever is bright colored and close by. I didn't have anything like that available, so I stayed on my tummy and sampled the blanket to see if it tasted as good as the rest of my blankets. Sometimes the Dad would come over and make me tickle, but other than that I was left to my own leisure.

Then it happened. I don't know where the other kid was while I was relaxing on the blanket, but all of a sudden there was the Mom, two ladies, and that kid. At first I was amenable to the idea. Then...

You won't believe this (I certainly didn't at first): the kid could move! I don't mean go from tummy to backside, like normal, respectable little people. I mean, he somehow put his diaper-part up in the air, moved his long, bendy next-to-heads, and came right towards me! I, not having this sort of freakish ability, was completely defenseless. I have never seen anyone, large or small, do that before; I don't know what was wrong with him, but I was terrified.

I was too shocked to do anything but lay there and stare. He came close to me, and although he had a smile on his face, I soon knew that his intentions couldn't possibly be good. I mean, the Grublet and I, we both know what the deal is. If one of us wants to touch the other, it's a quick thing touch, a passing glance of the hand - mostly, of course, because I can't get my hands where I want them to all the time, but the point remains. THIS kid, however... I'll never know how he did it. He didn't try to eat me, which is good (I barely know him, for crying out loud), but he took his little hands and he tried to grab me all over my head! He moved himself so that his head was touching mine on the front part. There I was, nose to nose and slobber to slobber with a kid I'd just met that day, and he was acting like I was his toy!

Now, I'm usually a baby who has herself together. But the way that this kid was coming at me, in conjunction with my complete lack of ability to get away from him, nearly made me pee myself (thank god my rear was covered). I cried out to the Mom, who apparently thought that the whole thing was funny, because she was laughing and "ahh"ing. Finally she got the hint, and my rescue came right in the nick of time. Who knows what that wild boy had in mind for me next?

Since that traumatic event, I have determined that I never want to be defenseless again. I would try moving about like the Mom and the Dad, but seeing as I haven't yet figured out how to pick up my top half, much less balance it on my bottom half, I think I must resort to doing it the way the boy did. So far, not a lot of luck, but if he can do it, by golly, so can I.

Resolutely,

EGW

PS: I can make noises out of my mouth that sound like when I fluff. The end.

Spoiled?

So for the experienced parents out there who know...

Am I spoiling my child?

Her Dad works night shift, and because there's a dearth of company to cuddle with most evenings, and I get lonely, I let her sleep with me - on a little pad with curves on the side, both so that she can't roll off and so I have some defense to my grandma, who insists that I will roll over and smother her at night (she also worries about me putting her on the curved pad, because she might roll over and smother, and that the cats that live upstairs will somehow find a way down here, locate Elizabeth, and smother her... so, smothering is a big thing with her). It worked out great when she was first born, because it kept me from having to get out of bed, find a chair in the dark, sit in it, put on my nursing pillow, pick her up, get positioned, and feed her. Roll over and go has worked great. But now, at nearly five months, she won't sleep through the night, because I've taken the easy road and just fed her whenever she wanted it... well, her entire life. My laziness has begun to take a toll, because at five months, shouldn't she be sleeping through the night?

The solution is alluding me. I'd love to just put her in her crib and let her cry, but problem: her crib is in the same room that I sleep in. It's not that I'm a softy or anything - I can let her scream when I'm working. I have three younger siblings, all of whom I learned to block out. I just can't sleep when she cries. I can handle being nursed upon much better than I can a screeching baby.

Is she spoiled beyond redemption? I feel like a very bad momma right now. I'm could to continue to rationalize with the "She's teething" excuse for a few more weeks, but I have this gut feeling that I'm just letting her have her way, and I really don't want her to be a spoiled only-child.


DOES DR. DOBSON MAKE HOUSE CALLS?

Excerpt from Manuscript E

Day 126 after my big coming-out party:

Life has become so exhausting.

If it weren't for my habit of constant napping, I would be a total basket case. I mean, the Mom wakes me up at nearly the crack of dawn every day, and then it's go go go for hours and hours! She'll clean, or she'll read in her big book, or she'll move things around - sometimes she even walks and walks outside to get to some place with lots of lights and bunch of stuff in bags and boxes, then walks all the way back, and all the while she's walking I'm stuck in the rough, bouncy chair, where I can never get a good afternoon's sleep.

If it's not one thing, it's another. When she does pay attention to me, do you think it's to fawn over me and feed me constantly? NO! She's always trying to get me to use those things at the end of my legs on the ground - I actually do quite well, as well as the Mom and the Dad. I mean, how complicated could it be, one leg in front of the other? There are times, sure, when I step on my own end-of-legs, but who doesn't? And why bother with it, anyway? I mean, it's much, much easier to just get carried where ever I need to go. I need to be sure to remember to let the Mom know that I would like that arrangement to prevail from now on.

The lady with the curly, messy hair called the "Nana" has been watching me quite a lot lately, too. I like her, because she hardly ever puts me down and she takes me outside all the time. Plus, she never tries to make me use my end-of-legs, and she feeds me whenever I cry. See, now, that's how things should be. I'll leave a memo for the Mom soon.

Until then, please pray that I'll have extra stamina for the tough days I've been having.

EGW

PS: My recent culinary experimentations have been quite exciting. So far I've tried big red things and yellow things. They were both delicious.

PSS: The other baby called Nolan is very interesting. More on him later.

I need a vacation!!

I need to take a break.

I think that is quite possibly the first time that I have ever said that and truly needed one this badly. I've just come off an 18 month stretch of school, plus baby, a job, wedding planning (which took a bigger toll on me than I expected it to) and now moving. It actually makes me miss the days when I all I had to worry about was finding time to do my homework in between classes and however many hours of practicing. At least then I had some sort of social outlet that I could rely on!

But, in perspective, I know I've got it pretty good. I'm taking a brief opportunity to air some complaints, but honestly, I'm so blessed. I have a great husband (yay!), a wonderful baby, health, and ability. What else do I need? :-)

I think what I feel the lack of more than anything is social time, in particular girl time. It was SO good to have my friends out for the wedding - it's almost indescribable how much I miss them. Knowing that I won't be able to see them again for a long time can be really discouraging if I let it be. Also, it's been really hard to try to find a place to find good friends that I can connect with here in Portland. I'm praying about it, and I'm sure that God will let know what I need to do soon; it's just difficult in the interim. I almost envy my sister-in-law, Beth - all of her friends had babies right around the same time that she did, so she had her own mother's group set up for her already!

I'll probably pull myself aside tomorrow and give me a good talking to. "Now listen, Alli, this too shall pass, so get your rear end in gear, stay peaceful and hopeful, and quit moping!"

Until then, I'll laugh at some Anne Taintor things and get some good sleep. And in the words of one of my favorite heroines,

I'll think about that tomorrow.

I leave you with this:

Excerpt from Manuscript E

Day 107 after I decided to head out:

I'm becoming nostalgic.

There used to be a time, I can remember, when the Mom would always let me eat, whenever I wanted, and I didn't even have to make any noises. Now? Well, sometimes I yell at her for what seems like forever, and you know what she does? PATS ME! What makes her think I want patting? Show me the money, that's what I say. Sometimes I just cry myself to sleep; doesn't she KNOW I want picked up? I mean, she wouldn't leave me laying there crying if she knew, would she? Of course not. I'll just have to cry louder, obviously.

And another thing: My mouth hurts, and my tummy too, sometimes. The Grandma gives me this wonderful cooling aparatus for my poor mouth, and I just love it! It's like a really, really cold alternative to the milk orb - if I suck on it long enough, it gives me liquid, and it's soft too! However, it does tend to make my mouth rather chilly, but they seem to know when to take it away.

I have them trained so well.

EGW

Endnote: Here is a picture of my favored cooling method. Feel free to give it a whirl!

Year In Review: A Birthday Post

Well, I'm 21 today. And all that is to me is an affirmation that I am marching further and further into adulthood, no looking back.

I've got the strangest paradigm about aging; I've always wanted to be that next year older, because it somehow seemed more prestigious, as if maybe I'd get more respect if I was 13, 18, or 20. But then I get a little freaked out because hey! You're going to have SO MUCH MORE responsibility if you are that much older. However, the responsibility thing isn't freaking me out as much this year. If all the life milestones that have happened over the last year don't make me infinitely more responsible, then I haven't been paying attention.

So, in chronological order:

May 25th, 2007: I was still at Central. So were Brittney and Charlee and Chris. I had a "Decorate-Your-Own-Bra" Party at our apartment... because it seemed like a good idea at the time. (It still seems like a good idea, to tell you the truth... it was good clean fun!).

June 2007: I was finishing up the school year in fine style. Finals week, I find out I am pregnant. And still got A's on all my finals. This trend didn't last.

July 2007: I realized that all of those little nudges not to sign up for summer school were divine nudges, and I should have taken the hint. With 102 degree weather, no air conditioner, and the most demanding classwork I have ever encountered, all on top of horrible morning sickness, I was going downhill fast. On the upside, however, I was losing tons of weight! At the Family Reunion, I joined in the coup that overthrew the ineffective and tyrannical reign of the Dead and Dying generation (that would be my grandmother and her brothers and sister... *note: they chose that little group moniker for themselves!). My cousin Sam and I are head of the administration. Only the closest of family and Kameron knew about little (tiny!) Elizabeth at this point.

August 2007: Signed up and started classes at Washington State University. I actually enjoyed them much more than I thought. Everyone knew by then.

September 2007: I took my last trip to Central to clear out my apartment. Sad, sad days. I told Dr. Ott that I wouldn't be returning. :-( Very sad. I also joined the PSU Wind Ensemble and Orchestra. More sad days. :-)

October 2007: Juggled. At almost 7 months, I just barely began to show. I was definitely feeling baby kick, and I was also feeling sad nostalgia for Central. But things were progressing.

November 2007: At this point, I decided that juggling all that I was - which included, but was not limited to, full time classes at WSU and playing in two ensembles at PSU, while heavily pregnant - was unwise and not conducive to good mental health. I quit orchestra.

December 2007: I passed my classes, with flying colors, and gained some great rapport with awesome professors (sometimes, that can be even more valuable than the grade). Also, Kam finally asked me to marry him! (Finally... haha! He has always said he would have done it six years ago if he thought he could get away with it). Beautiful day. I also in this month became thoroughly convinced that I was going to have Elizabeth (I think her name then was Grace still, maybe Hannah) early, and began to wake up every day thinking, "Today could be the day!"

Foolish, foolish girl.

January 2008: Still having faith in my early birth, I cancelled my band trip to Eugene on the 26th of this month. Of course, it would be another two weeks before I had her... but I could just imagine the impression I would have made if the tuba blasted a low note and whoop! my water broke. In front of all the college band directors in Oregon. Great. Belinda through me a lovely, lovely baby shower - things started to come home for me a little.

February 2008: My due date came. And went. The first 8 days of February were pure torture. Kam came home to me crying more than once. I tried everything - I spent my due date waking/jogging the two miles around Glendoveer Park. UGH! But, she came! Beautiful Elizabeth came on the 9th, and stole my heart completely. One week after her, I resumed flute lessons, and I think the rest of that month I spent revelling in her and lamenting my poor, flabby stomach.

March 2008: I frantically tried to plan my wedding, something I tried not to stress over too much in the last weeks of my pregnancy. I kept thinking to myself, "Oh, RELAX!! You've got months and months until the date!"

April 2008: "Really, Alli, why all the stress? There's seven weeks to go - you've got plenty of time!

May 1-16, 2008: "OH NO! Get your rear in gear, Cairns, what have you been doing for two months?" Also in the first few weeks of May, I finished my online classes for the term, thereby ending 21 consecutive months of going to school. Sweet relief!

May 17th, 9am - 4:45pm: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

May 17th, 5:07 pm: "Ok, I got myself together, I waiting down here... when is the wedding going to start, it's HOT!"

May 17th, 5:15 pm: "Did they say walk? Are they walking?"

May 17th, 5:16 pm: "I'm walking! There he is! Oh goodness!"

May 17th, 5:30 pm: "Well, that went fast!"

May 18th - May 24th: I have spent the last week or so learning some interesting realities about married life. Like, when are you ever supposed to see your husband? and other things.

May 25th: I spent this birthday baking cookies (good), breaking down on the side of the road (bad), with my baby (double bad), on the I-205 bridge (ok, we get it, Alli!), spending time with newly acquired family (very good).


So, in one year, I have changed schools, moved home, had a baby, got married, moved to another home, staged a coup, and made a bra.

Pretty eventful, wouldn't you say?

A little frazzled... assistance, please?

Good thoughts my way, everyone - it's crunch time.

I feel like I'm in a rubber room full of super-bouncy balls going a million miles an hour in a million different directions, each representing something else I was supposed to remember to do, bring, take back, check on, call on, email, print, fax or pay for. My wonderful man, thank God, rallied tonight for me and helped me get a biggy off of my list: everything for the wedding in one big box. Whew!

If anyone is willing to help with the following things, please let me know: (excluding any new mothers...)

• Making sure the flower girls and Audree are ready the day of. Hair done, faces clean, dresses pressed, bows and jackets on - the whole shebang.
  
• Getting something, anything! to gracefully and aesthetically cover two huge "CAUTION!" signs that are on the bridge. (Marilyn thought that they were incredibly appropriate; they are, however, bright yellow). Any creative ideas are fine with me. They are about 6 feet by 6 inches.
• Being Kelly's faithful and willing assistant with flowers for the bridge and reception. But... check with Kelly first. ;-)
• Picking up the wedding cake and transporting it to the Goldfinch house Saturday afternoon. The necessary bits for this job would be a car and a confidence that you could transport it without messing it
  
• Decorating and setting up for the reception Saturday afternoon. Reference to Denise.
• Setting up chairs for the ceremony. Needed: Strong backs and willing hands of both genders.
• Sweeping the bridge of possible unpleasantness. This would probably best be done by the strong backs and willing hands (with brooms in them) of members of the male gender. But hey, I'm not picky. :-)
• Resuscitating Kameron.
  
• Resuscitating me.

Stay posted, because like I said, there's a million elusive thoughts bouncing around right now; I only caught nine this time.

Calls of encouragement would be greatly appreciated!

Love you all.

And she races to the finish line...

It's the True Confessions of a Frantic Bride hour. Welcome to our show.

My schedule for the next week looks something like:

Sunday:

9:00 am - 10:00: Marriage counseling (to get ourselves together mentally and spiritually before the big day... um.... and big life!)

10:00 - 11:00: Church at Praise Chapel

12:00: Drive to Vancouver to pick up the tan Camry to take the Ellensburg.

12:30: Pick every peony in Annetta's garden - Thank you SO MUCH, Annetta!

2:00 (hopefully): Return to Weidler house and have lunch

2:30-bedtime: Grocery trip, cook and wash laundry for the up-coming week, put everything that needs to go to Sunriver in boxes... and if I'm really honest with myself, that's probably all I'll get done. It's funny how scaled down your grandiose daily plans get when you have an every-increasingly demanding (adorable) baby.

Monday
9:00 - 12:00: Try to figure out how the heck a veil works when you sew it onto the comb! Anyone with tips, PLEASE let me know!!

12:00 -2:00: Run errands. Including, but most likely not limited to, picking up my dress from the cleaners, returning excess veil bits to Fabric Depot, and picking up plates and silver from Linda (another huge thank you to Linda!).

3:00: Lunch. I probably should eat. But I know I can't just sit down and eat, so I'll probably end up eating, tying the red ribbons on the bubble-favors, and make some phone calls. Darn my multi-tasking nature, a blessing and a curse.

4:30: Leave for a hair cut. Hey, I got a coupon!

5:00: Relax and not think about a darn thing.

7:00 - bedtime: Work on the basement-apartment in an attempt to try to move in there by the time we're married.

Tuesday:
Happy day!

8:00: Wake up and feed Elizabeth... and myself, sure. What the heck.

8:45: Leave the Weidler house in glorious anticipation of what awaits me a mere hour away.

9:20: Drop Liza off at Nana's for a good spoiling, and head off for a day of hedonistic enjoyment.

10:00 - 5:00: Have a team of professionals pamper my little fanny off. Bask in the bliss of absolute physical and aesthetic delight. Thank the ever-living Lord that I don't have to go through one more day (for a while) of looking at my disgusting, unkempt eyebrows, split ends, fingernails, toesnails, legs, and... none of your business.

6:00: Pick up Elizabeth a much happier momma

6:30: Return to Weidler house a greatly improved fiance.

9:00: Go to sleep - got to wake up early!

Wednesday:

5:00: Feed Elizabeth and pump one last time. It's probably best I leave empty.

6:00: Hop in the car and make the long trip to Ellensburg.

10:00: Arrive in Ellensburg. Force myself for the sake of my driving record to stay under 20 miles per hour... everywhere...

12:00: Go give Poppa Ott a huge hug and show him my blog! Yay!

1:00: Go back to Brittney's to curl my hair.

2:00: Show up at Dr. Maria Roditaleva-Wibe's class in style...

3:30: Leave Ellensburg with best-friend/bridesmaids. Have a rip-roaring blast for four hours until we get home.

7:30 - bedtime: Cuddle my daughter close and kiss her all over.

Thursday:
8:00: Leave with buddies to go to Lakeshore Montessori.

8:30: Do an instrument demonstration for the kids - it will be so much fun! Between the three of us, we play seven instruments... that's a pretty good show, don't you think?

9:30: Arrive at David's Bridal and pick out a dress for Brittney.

12:00 (if the weather's fair and God wills): Leave for Sunriver.

4:00 - bedtime: Have a much needed, much-delayed girl night. Finally!

Friday:

9:00: Wake up and realize, "OH NO! It's almost time!" In the middle of heart palpitations and cold sweats, feed Elizabeth and have breakfast.

12:00: Rehearsal on the bridge.

2:00: Rehearsal linner (dunch?). I'll eat something heavy to try to crowd out all of the butterflies.

8:00: All-American potluck dinner at Goldfinch 11. Watch the different elements on Kam and my families mingle. Hmmm...


Saturday:

9:00: Have another moment of realization. Change my underwear.

10:00: Run around like a chicken with my head cut off and try to figure out what I need to do that I have already delegated that other people do a week ago. Change my underwear again.

12:30: Head to hair and makeup at Zante's in Bend. Realize that once my hair's up, that's pretty much the point of no return (also, pray that what happened to my soon-to-be sister-in-law doesn't happen to me).

3:00: Return to Sunriver to get into my dress and take some pictures. Pull my Dad together from a puddle of tears and assure him that, yes, I'll always be his little girl and yes, whatever he needs to hear to get in gear!

5:00: March.

6:00: Thank God that is all over, and head for some partying.

8:00 - bedtime: Party!

Bedtime: Watch My Fair Lady with Kam. Oh wouldn't it be loverly...





And that pretty much covers 168 hours. I think I should probably end this little list - it was written pretty much out of nerves, and the better solution was most likely to sleep. I should probably make that my first order of business... while Elizabeth will let me!

Excerpt from Manuscript E

Day 90 after my great escape:

Mom has been talking about a new baby in town.

She and Dad have better not be getting any bright ideas, because, darn it all, I am determined to have my time to shine. My need for constant attention, praise, and general fawning-over has increased since I realized that all I have to do is yelp and the big people come a'runnin. I don't believe, however, that their speaking about a new one for them; from what I can gather, it seems that the lady they call "Auntie Meg" who has that delightful perch for me to sit on when she holds me, has had a baby which they keep calling a "little boy." Unfortunately, I don't know what that means, so I'm going to have to find a way to communicate to the Mom that I want to go and investigate.

After indulging in some deep reflection while I was in my swing tonight, I have come to the conclusion that this could be a good thing. I love the Mom and the Dad, but honestly, they haven't gotten me around anyone else my size yet. The closest person that I have encountered that is even near it is the noisy child at Auntie Meg's that tries to touch me all the time and runs around screaming. I think the best thing for me to do is to teach this child everything I know. It seems a waste that I have gained so much wisdom and have no one to impart to. I realize that it is a large responsibility; I have so much to teach this kid. Where the fist is, for example (reference the Mom's last excerpt), the two keys to rapid weight gain, and the consummate joys of a good toot, just for starters. It's tough being out of the womb - someone should be there to help this poor "boy."

I am up for the challenge.

EGW





End note: The Mara took a picture which, I believe, captures how I feel about the new addition.

I'm an auntie again!

Well, for the first time, really.

Megan had her baby! I'm SO happy for her! And, for the third time in the Wilkinson line, we have a boy and girl about 3 months apart - everyone say thankful prayers for Nolan Louis Vowell, born today, May 9th, at 2:00pm, after a considerable bit of difficulty to his mama! 9 pounds, 10 ounces, 22 inches long! Not a small baby.

I'm so happy. This is the first time I can be proud of a baby born into my immediate family!

More later, hopefully.

Excerpt from Manuscript E

Day 84 outside of the womb:

I'm being tortured.

Recently, the people who hold me, change my diapers, and feed me most often - for all intents and purposes, we will call them "Mom" and "Dad," respectively - have begun to touch me and wiggle me in ways that produce the most exhilarating sensations. In particular, these feelings occur when they wiggle my thighs, my chins, and my ribs. It causes me to make a funny noise, quite against my will, which the big people seem to like very much - they have tended to get big, silly grins and raise their voices to higher pitches in response to my involuntary sonance. They look rather ridiculous, to tell you the truth.

Sometimes the woman with curly hair that the Mom calls "Nana" and the man who can take his eyes on and off that the Dad calls "Grandpa" will also attempt to make me expostulate in this manner; sometimes I can withstand it, sometimes I can't. It seems to me that it is a rather tortuous way to finally get attention from these people.

On a similar note, the Mom keeps mentioning "auditions." I have a horrible premonition that she is going to shape up to be the worst sort of stage mother. Until then, I'll just have to figure out a way to get my infantile hands to open up long enough (and stay out of my mouth long enough) to play Chopin. Who the Mom tells me about all the time.


EGW


Endnote: If you ever need to relax, may I highly recommend the fist-in-mouth method. I mentioned it before, but really, I just can't get enough of it. It's a great substitute for if the milk orb isn't available.

One Month Pictures

I just realized that LizaBeth's one month pictures aren't available to the general public via the internet yet.

So, here goes!

A little scared - so I'll ramble.

It's all coming up really fast. It's a lot like walking down the last three feet of the diving board, and you know that when you get to the end, there's nothing left to do but jump.

And honestly, it's more than a little terrifying.

Life changes, and boy, has it COMPLETELY changed in the last year. Let's see... May 1st, 2007, I believe I was madly preparing for my sophomore recital, studying for theory finals and trying to decide what grad school I was going to start pursuing and in what field. May 1st, 2008, and I'm reading mommy books and trying to plan out my next five years with a husband and joy baby girl in tow.

And beyond that, I haven't really taken the time to develop any good friendships since I've been back - barring my soon-to-be sister-in-law, Meg, but that's not really a day-to-day, meet you for coffee sort of thing anyway, not with seven kids for her and one for me. I'm going to be seeing my old girlfriends at the wedding, coming up very soon, but even that is a little scary, considering that we've all changed so much in the last year... I'm not sure I'm even going to know Charlee anymore, which saddens me quite a lot. Brittney - we've seen each other more, but not often by any means.

I guess this fear is really based out of nostalgia. I've been remembering the "good old days," back at Central, and missing them terribly. Change is quite a scary thing. A great thing about working with kids is you see a bunch of raw emotion, all based on life circumstances, and you realize that what they are feeling is really what most adults feel, but have lost touch with. For example, one little girl in class, whose name is Grace, is going to have a new baby sister in about a week. Normally, she is the sweetest, kindest girl; recently, however, she has been cantankerous and mean to the other students, and prone to cry at the drop of a hat. She will bawl at the smallest provocation, but if I pull her up on my lap and cuddle with her for a while, she'll fold right up and say what she needs: "I want my mama."

She wants her normalcy back. I can totally relate; I almost cried with her today, I was so struck by this childlike, emotional caricature of what I am currently experiencing. Sometimes, I just want to curl up and say, "I want my old life back."

I guess the best thing to do is trust, and believe that in ten years, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

A Quick Note on Quicken

I've just discovered control-freak heaven.

Quicken.

From it's delightful little chime to it's easily-entered categories and subcategories, from it's charts and graphs to it's download options, it is a pure joy. I am just now discovering it, and I can honestly say I haven't been happier since I mastered the Excel spreadsheet. My micro-managing side is having a heyday today.

Ah, bliss.

Job and Elizabeth

I'm so glad that this job is working out. I'm having a blast working with the kids; it's so much easier to work with little children for hours and hours when you keep in mind that this is someone's baby, after you've had your own. You can open up your heart and let them in, in a small way; it's becoming the best bittersweet part of my week.

Best, because I get to love on lots of kids. Bittersweet, because I have to leave my own.

Before the beginning

Life is strange when you're living in limbo.

Right before I had Elizabeth, it was exactly the same thing. For about three or four weeks, I felt like I was going to explode, not because I was necessarily sick of being pregnant (although, of course, that was becoming increasingly cumbersome); I was just sick of NOT having a baby! I had spent those months preparing myself mentally for being a mama, and when it finally hit me, around thirty-six weeks, that "Whoa! I am going to have a baby!," I wanted to have her in my arms that minute - I wanted to see her face. For weeks it seemed my life was on hold, in this weird middle land where I wasn't a mama, but I wasn't completely my own either. I didn't yet have that breaking-off experience, where you've transitioned completely into your new role. It seemed as if I had one foot in my past, and I was so eager and, eventually, anxious to jump right into the future.

Around nine centimeters, I realized "jumping" is not the best descriptor for that process.


Well, according to our wedding website (allisonandkameron.weddings.com, for anyone who hasn't seen it yet), we have twenty seven days until our wedding, and again, I'm in limbo. Actually, we're in limbo, but in different ways. I'm in limbo because I don't have a place, things, and a marriage that I can rightfully call my own. I don't quite yet belong to an established couple, yet with the way things have been, it seems unnatural that I'm not - or we're not, rather. It is the strangest thing for me call Kameron "my fiance;" that awkwardness is especially compounded by the fact that we already have a baby.

Kameron. Hmm. From what I'm gathering through actions and words, he's in a physical limbo. To use some of those words, "So close.... yet so far." He's not struggling with the "established couple" concept. I think he's just assumed that we've been married since about two months after we started dating - again, his words, not mine.

However, although this time is awkward, I know that this is the smaller piece of the time pie that Kam and I are going to be together. I'm really sad that I haven't kept a journal of what our lives have been and where they have taken us so far. I've also realized, in the past couple of months, and I am going to lose a big part of my daughter's babyhood if I don't write it all down.

Hence, the Winding Path.

Hope you all enjoy.