May Day... may day... blog down!

May is almost over, and I have not blogged the entire month. I have several good reasons. The first week of May was my last full week of maternity leave, so I pretty much just held Annabel the entire week and went on our beloved daily walks in the park. I also did a couple of things I swore I would do during maternity leave but didn't do in the beginning (because I was figuring out what on earth to do with a baby), didn't do in the middle (because I had plenty of time left to do it later), and didn't do at the end (because I was savoring every second of my remaining days with my baby). I think I accomplished probably three things on a much longer list. Regardless, I'm going to try to breathe some life back into the blog since hopefully a few of you are still checking in on us. [crickets chirp] Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Have I run you off with my delinquency? Well regardless, here's what we've been up to, in somewhat chronological order, since we last checked in.

1. Annabel has been sleeping in her room by herself. The first night she did so, we were under tornado warning all night, and there is a big tree close to her room, so I stayed up all night. Everything was fine, of course -- though I was pretty sleepy the next day. Annabel is still the cutest sleeper in the house.

2. Fox ran his 10th marathon on April 30. Pretty amazing. That's 262 miles in races alone, not counting the thousands of training miles. Annabel got to cheer him on for the first time -- she was still in utero for his last marathon. It was a nail biter for Annabel, because she expected Pops to win. He did not. We had a good time though, and Annabel got to hang out with Fox's parents and grandparents.




3. Much to my dismay, Annabel slept through her first Kentucky Derby. For the first time, I questioned if she was, in fact, my child. I love the Derby -- actually, the entire triple crown, but especially the Derby. I always watch it. We went a couple times in law school. When I was in middle school, the honors kids got to go on a trip the first weekend in May. It was really fun - the trip rotated every three years among Atlanta, Cincinnati, and St. Louis. We would go to a baseball game and an amusement park, but it meant I would miss the Derby. I would have my dad tape it for me (you know, because we used VCRs back then) and not tell me who won (you know, because we weren't on the internet at all times and places, so things could still be a surprise). Then I could watch it when I got back from the trip and enjoy the excitement. I think about kids now -- I suppose they would just stream it on their iphones while on the honors trip (though perhaps there are no honors trips now due to liability issues. [insert lawyer joke here]). Anyway, the point is, I love the Derby. Annabel does not yet (though she is wearing one of my old school onesies from the 70's... okay, the very, very end of the 70's, like one of the last six weeks or so. She is not in 80's clothes. There will be time for that later). I have also made myself sound super-old in this paragraph -- dang kids nowadays with their iphones and streaming media. I think I'll put on some clothes from the 70's and yell at them to get off my lawn.

No mint juleps were consumed by this baby

4. I went back to work Wednesday, May 11. I'm not going to lie, it was hard. While I was at work, my dad taught her to say "mama," so when I got home from the office and sat down to a homemade dinner (thanks, mom), Annabel said "mama." Instant tears.

5. Here comes the really exciting part of the blog. On May 14, the Foxes Three headed to California. I had agreed to go to the International Trademark Association annual meeting in San Francisco for work. Annabel came with me for nursing purposes. Fox came with us for babysitting purposes. We made a family vacation of it. I am now abandoning my numbering format for more traditional paragraphs. It should make the trip narrative flow more naturally.

Annabel was a champ on the plane. Nothing makes you as popular as showing up for a five and a half hour flight with a not-quite-four-month old baby. You can actually see the fear (and a hint of "what the crap do you think you are doing") in the other passengers' eyes. Annabel was great, though I would rather give birth again than have to nurse on a plane. The space is so small, Annabel is getting pretty big, and even though nursing covers are great, there's still that guy two seats away from you reading a science fiction book. It's just not a good situation for anyone. However, we all survived. And the flight back to Atlanta is almost an hour shorter, so that's good.

We spent Saturday and Sunday doing some sight-seeing around San Fran. I had conferences Monday through Wednesday. We had already done Wine Country for our vacation four years before, and though it's awesome, it seemed somewhat inappropriate for a baby. So we decided to to head south and see what it had to offer. We settled on Santa Cruz and the neighboring town of Capitola (which was the first resort town on the west coast). Here are some pictures of the fun that ensued.

San Francisco's City Hall -- stunning. It has been the site of some very important and dramatic events.

Annabel went swimming for the first time in the hotel's indoor pool. How could you not smile when you look this cute in a swimsuit?



Chinatown!



Kerouac alley

Outside the best bookstore in the world. Funny story - San Francisco is not really a "baby" place. People look at you as if you've brought some alien being into their midst. I believe they may have forgotten that at one time they were also small babies. Anyway, City Lights is a tight space with a lot of stairs, so we took Annabel in by the counter and took turns with her while the other of us walked around. I waited with her first and noticed there were City Lights onesies. I asked the cashier what sizes they had. He told me they only had one size, so I asked (quite logically, I thought) "What size is it?" He looked pointedly at me from behind his hipster glasses and said "You just need to know how big your kid is." So I let it go. Fox came back to watch Annabel while I perused the store. I went straight upstairs to my favorite part -- the poetry room. I was looking at the wares when I heard someone huffing and puffing up the stairs. I didn't turn around, as I thought it my be impolite. After what seemed an eternity, the person passed by me, took out a set of keys and opened a door in the back. He was tall, had white hair and a white beard, was wearing jeans and sneakers with thick, white soles (like Vans, perhaps). I could only see him in profile, but immediately my breath caught in my throat. It was Lawrence Ferlinghetti. But it couldn't be. He was like 90 years old. Would he still be coming in to City Lights? I hung out alone in the poetry room, waiting for him to return so I could get a proper look. After about five minutes, he emerged, relocked the door and turned to see me staring at him. He smiled a very gentle and knowing smile and said "hi." I stared, dumbfounded at him, clutching a book of his poetry in my hand and said "hi" back to him. Then he started down the stairs. Of course I followed him, kicking myself for not saying something more. But what do you say? "Are you Lawrence Ferlinghetti? Hello, last living beat poet and founder of the best bookstore in the world. Thank you for being involved in an amazing literary movement. What was it like? Tell me everything you know. Will you sign my book? Will you have a cup of coffee with me? Will you smile at my daughter?" Instead, I watched him walk to the front of the store, past my daughter and husband, say bye to the snarky cashier, and open the door into the San Francisco sunlight. I ran to Fox and said a series of "ohmigosh, holycow, didyouseethat."




Bay Bridge



Pier 39 and its fantastic sea lions



Prior to this trip, Fox had not gotten to spend a ton of time with Annabel. He has been really busy at work, and since I was off work, I had plenty of time to tend to Sweet Bug. However, on the trip, he was going to be in charge of her while I was in my meetings. I know he was a little nervous, but they ended up having a great time.

He even took her to the San Francisco MOMA, where she enjoyed some large paintings.

We went to Golden Gate Park where Fox News attempted to interview us about San Francisco. We told them we weren't from there, and when they heard our accents, they agreed and let us be.

Hanging out at Haight-Ashbury with Owley

We headed to the Santa Cruz boardwalk, which though closed (it opens Memorial Day) was really fun. We couldn't ride the rides with a baby anyway, and we enjoyed walking without a lot of people. Here is the bridge from Lost Boys. R.I.P. Corey Haim.

We spent the next day in Capitola and celebrated Annabel's 4 month birthday. She got to play in sand for the first time ever.

We also went back to Santa Cruz (it was all of 5 miles away) because it is one of the most naturally beautiful places we've been.

It was such a great trip! I recommend Santa Cruz/Capitola to anyone who wants a really laid back and beautiful place to visit. We were pleased to learn that Annabel was a great traveler. We got lots of compliments from passengers on both planes. Speaking of planes, we had the most exciting diaper change of all time on our way back to Atlanta.

I'm actually pretty scared of flying. I am not proud of this. I like to think of myself as tough, but really I do have a couple of big fears. Flying with Annabel was great for me because I was so preoccupied with having her nurse during take-off and landing to prevent the change in pressure from hurting her ears that I didn't even think about being nervous (for those of us who are afraid of flying, take-off and landing are the scariest). On the flight over, we did a couple quick diaper changes at our seat. However, on the flight back, we had a serious poop situation (I'm sorry I have to talk about poop, mom. The story really doesn't make sense if I don't.) that required us to go to the plane's bathroom. So all three of us headed to the front bathroom. The flight attendant told us we couldn't wait up there for the bathroom to vacate, so we should go to the one in the back of the plane, which we did. We waited there for its previous occupant to leave. When it was empty, we folded the changing table down, Fox held Annabel under her arms, and I opened her diaper. The flight started getting really bumpy. I got out some wipes. Then the flight got a lot bumpier, and the captain came on and said, "Flight attendants, return to your seats." I started to breathe a little harder. Then the plane lost a little pressure. The toilet beneath the changing table flushed. The captain came on the loudspeaker and said "FLIGHT ATTENDANTS RETURN TO YOUR SEATS NOW!" I started breathing a lot harder, and at this point, I'm starting to cry a bit. I have never slapped a diaper on Annabel as fast as that moment. Then I grabbed her, half clothed, and sprinted to our seat, abandoning Fox to pack up the diaper bag and figure out what to do with the dirty diaper I had stuffed into a barf bag. As soon as I sat down, the captain came on and said that we were through the worst of the turbulance. It figures. Annabel was fine throughout the whole ordeal. I, however, will take a pass on future harrowing diaper changes. That is an adjective that should never be applicable to the changing of a diaper.

I hope everyone out there has a fantastic week, and I'll check back in sooner next time. One final note - a big congratuations to Aunt Jordan, who just graduated with her master's degree. We're all very proud of you!

The first step out of the nest

I did it! I moved the bed out of the nursery, with fantastic results (I say that now, since night has not yet fallen, and I have not gone to sleep in the room across the hall from sweet Bug). I am very pleased with how the nursery looks though. The changing table is now next to the bathroom door, which is convenient for rinsing dipes and the too-frequent occurrence of Annabel peeing during changes. I hung watercolors of Seattle and Verona, purchased on trips to those respective cities, over the changing table for Bug to look at during changes so she will appreciate the importance of travel and seeing the world.

I'm also thrilled with the $25 chair I scored from a moving sale on craigslist. It made a perfect nook for nursing and reading books. I hung Annabel's art from the Dogwood festival and her first roller derby over it.

I think I'm ready for Annabel to have her own room. I know I've used the blog to indulge my feelings of not wanting Bug to grow up. However, I'm really very excited to meet the little girl she grows into. Sure, a huge part of me wants to stay curled up on the couch with her in my arms forever. But that is selfish. The more rational side of me is terrified of smothering her and wants to fling her headlong into the world screaming "Fly, Bug, fly!" I suppose that is the age-old tension in parenthood --wanting your child to flourish in the world while simultaneously wanting to hold her close and baby her, and I have not stumbled onto something new. It is new to me, though, and even as I type this, she is asleep in the crook of my left arm, which is perhaps what has emboldened me to say I'm ready for the next step.

Regardless, tomorrow is a big day too. I'm dropping Annabel off for two hours at my firm's daycare for a trial run. I'm so lucky to have that perk -- it is such a nice facility run by lovely people. I know Annabel will enjoy the company of other kids. Then in two weeks I'll be enjoying the company of other lawyers.

Hoppy Easter

We had a lovely first Easter with Annabel. We went to church, then had a fantastic brunch at Radial Cafe (biscuits and vegetarian gravy!) which Annabel slept through, then spent the rest of the day hanging out together at home as a family. Annabel was a trooper during church. She made it through the entire service and even went up with me for communion. She was wearing one of my dresses and bonnets. It was her first foray into the world of bonnets. Mom swears that I loved them as a baby (I really think that means that I let her put them on me without complaint), and Annabel didn't mind it a bit either. She did continue to untie the ribbon and put the edge of the ruffle in her mouth. She looked supercute, which is a good thing because there are tons of my bonnets awaiting her as she grows.

After brunch, our sweet little Bug indulged me through a ridiculous photo session that involved her sitting in her Easter basket, a stuffed chick prop, and an outfit change. I think I might have gotten a bit carried away. I tiptoe ever closer to the terrifying world of Anne Geddes. Someone needs to stop me before it is too late. Here is the most disapproving face I got.

Though it was followed by this one:

I think she likes her new friend

It was a swell day, though I'm excited about future egg hunts, egg dyeing, making sugar eggs, getting up at the crack of dawn to see what sweet treats the Easter bunny brought, and attempting to explain the importance of Easter without it being terrifying or trivial.

I set the goal that we would take the bed out of Annabel's room on Easter and start sleeping in our bedroom again. Fox and I realized that we weren't quite ready yet and maybe Easter wasn't the right day to make this big change. I'm pretty sure this is a much harder change for us than for Annabel, but regardless, we are planning to go through with it on Wednesday. I am excited about rearranging the nursery to be more nursery-like, which has been somewhat impeded by the presence of the bed. I just find myself very resistant to change in a time that is filled with constant change. But Easter is about a major change, right? Can I do it? Check back and see.

Until then, The Foxes Three signing off!

And baby makes three (months, that is)

Tonight, my dear, sweet Annabel Jane turns three months old. And my, my it has certainly flown by. Yesterday I packed up several of her cute outfits that she's already outgrown, much to my dismay. She has started chatting constantly, mostly saying "Whooooo" -- sometimes insistently, and sometimes in a more relaxed, drawn-out manner (I would like to think this is because she is cognizant of her owl theme, but really "whoooo" is just fun to say. Seriously, try it). She can do a baby push up, where she lifts her whole chest off the floor and turns her head 180 degrees. She laughs in her sleep. She loves to be read books and poems. She has started picking up toys and shaking them around. She smiles when I act silly. In short, she is seeming less like a baby and more like a little girl each day, no matter how hard I try to hold on to her baby-ness.

As resistant as I already am to my baby growing up, I do love to watch other things grow. I mentioned that I come from two long lines of farmers, so it is probably in my blood to take great delight from digging in the dirt and watching plants spring forth. So, last week, we planted our garden on Annabel's twelve-week birthday. Two years ago we built a raised bed in the backyard and have had success with collards, various peppers, and tomatoes. This year, we got a cherry tomato varietal, a regular tomato varietal, spaghetti squash, a bell pepper, and our collards. I'm hoping our collards will come up -- we planted them from seed that we have used in previous years.

Also, my beloved yellow colander that we got as a wedding gift has started to shed its enamel, thus making me fear it is no longer food safe. I was delaying throwing it away because I like it so much, when Southern Living came to the rescue. The good writers there recommend using old colanders to plant strawberries, which thrive with good drainage. So we are trying it out. It sure would be nice to have strawberries this summer that I know aren't full of pesticide. Not to mention the mere thought that I could successfully execute something from Southern Living makes me positively giddy.

I hope Annabel likes to watch plants grow and dig in the dirt too. You may notice that she isn't too excited in her photo with the gardening supplies. But don't worry, once I described what we were doing with the plants, I got a much more positive response.

We had a big weekend. It's festival time in Atlanta, which is one of the best things about the city. Atlantans are not scared of throwing a festival for any occasion and do so constantly from April to September. On Saturday we went to the Sweetwater festival in Candler Park. The weather was gorgeous, so the festival was packed. We heard some great music and had a good Sweetwater beer, as we normally do at the festival. However, this year we also spent a good deal of time in the family area, which was new for us. Annabel was of course too young for the playground and bounce houses, but I think she liked being around the other kids (and I liked having her out of the crowd, though she was as cool as a cucumber there too).

On Sunday, we went to the Dogwood Festival, which is an art festival in Piedmont Park, 3 blocks from our house. Actually, Annabel and I went through the festival on Friday too as part of our daily walk in the park. I never realized that the festival gets fired up that early, since every other year I'm at work on Fridays. But our real day at the festival was Sunday because we went as a family. Fox and I enjoyed a fantastic lunch from Soul Vegetarian -- those guys make a mean vegan plate of barbequed tofu, collards, and mac n' cheese. We strolled and looked at art, hoping to get something nice for Annabel to call her own when she's old enough. We got a great piece by a local artist who does really great acrylics on wood of Atlanta signage. We picked out one depicting some of our favorite places, and figure Annabel can take it with her to her first place (if I ever let her move out of the house). The Dogwood Festival was also packed, but we had a lovely time. What can we say, the kid likes crowds! Or maybe she is excited about her art.

Thanks for checking in with us. Check back next week for an Easter edition of The Foxes Three. Will Annabel catch the Easter Bunny? Will she be confused as to what he has to do with the resurrection of Jesus? Will I be able to remove the bed from her nursery and sleep in a different room from her? The answers to these burning questions await you soon dear reader, but for now, signing off as a three month old...

Mules Rule

I've been a Georgian for almost six years now. Before that however, I was all Tennessee -- eighteen years in Columbia, four in Knoxville, and three in Nashville. In all the places I've lived, my hometown has always been able to draw me home the first weekend in April for a very special occasion -- Mule Day. I was so excited to share that special day with my daughter this year.

Mule Day has gotten strangely popular in recent years. It was identified as a major terrorist target by the Department of Homeland Security after 9/11, and in a popular article, The New York Times used this as an illustration of ridiculousness in the department. Larry the Cable Guy's new series Only in America profiled Mule Day. Last year, Naomi Judd was the Grand Marshall. No matter how popular or unpopular it may become, it is one of my favorite days. I feel sorry for those who don't go home once a year to stand in front of the funeral home and watch a two-hour parade devoted to a sterile creature not intended by God or to the county park where the good prisoners are let out of jail for the day to load cinder blocks onto sleds behind teams of mules to see which can pull the most weight. It's a great reason to see family and friends who live far away.

Annabel enjoyed the parade and was on her best behavior. We invited some of our friends who have recently moved to Nashville to watch the parade with us and to come to my parent's house for a big southern lunch. Mom pulled out all the stops with a new grit recipe (featuring Rotel!), pimento cheese sandwiches, turnip greens, field peas, homemade biscuits, and two kinds of pie (chess and chocolate fudge...nom, nom, nom). We ate ourselves silly. Annabel took a nap.

We also got brave and took Annabel to church. She napped all the way until mid-sermon, when all indications were that we might have a diaper situation. I took her out to check, but it was a false alarm.

We also took the opportunity of being in Tennessee for Annabel to visit my mom's family farm, which is in Carthage (really Dixon Springs, if you want to be precise). I'm the first generation on both sides of my family to not grow up on a farm, which is a shame because I really enjoy farms. The upside is that I would not know Mule Day had I grown up on either of the family farms, and really life would be far less rad without Mule Day. We had nice weather and took lots of pictures. Annabel seemed to enjoy herself and looked supercute in her jeans.

The farmhouse my mother and grandfather grew up in is in the background, and the mounting block for getting on your horse is in the foreground. Much cuteness is in the middle. My great grandfather had the farmhouse built in the 1890's

Swinging on the front porch. Good times. We're back in Atlanta now, hoping to plant our garden this weekend. It's the Foxes' little urban slice of farm, if you will. I leave you with a parting shot of Mule Day -- Annabel and her pops, enjoying the parade. Until next year, mules...