The Cutest Laugh

I'm not sure there's anything much cuter than a little baby's laugh.  Iver has been smiling for a while and  laughing quite a bit.  I tried to capture his full belly laugh -- which he does break out from time to time -- in this video, but he was a little shy for the camera.  Still, I think it's pretty cute.  (Ignore the idiot in the background making noises, that is, me.)

Don't Be Afraid of the Dinosaur

Iver likes to travel.  Well, at least he likes to be in his car seat while driving for certain periods of time.  (For the record, he actually did really well on the drive down to Portland and back for Thanksgiving.  We'll see how a trip to Bend, OR after Christmas goes, which is about twice as long ...)

Regardless of the destination, you need to have the right outfit.  For our little guy, it's a slightly oversized dinosaur fleece outfit for many occasions.  I mean, how can you go wrong when you are this cute?

Happiness is Being Naked

I don't know what it is, but practically nothing makes Iver happier than being on the changing table (unless we've missed the window and he's wet and hungry.)

But normally, he loves to have his diaper off and just hang out.  Just take a look at these pics for evidence:

Iver's First Election

Tomorrow, Iver turns 8 weeks old.  It's hard to believe that it's only been two months.  It's also impossible to believe that it's already been two months.  I've always heard that time often feels strange once you have a newborn, and it's certainly true for me.  It's like Iver has always been here and I can't imagine our lives without him.

The past couple of weeks have included a subtle shift of routines and one important legal event. First, the subtle shift: I've started officially working 1-2 hours a day.  This actually isn't that big of a change because I've been checking email basically my entire maternity leave.  I wasn't doing anything (other than occasionally forwarding something or quickly replying), but at least I was reading what was happening.  Now, I am a little more accountable for producing some stuff, but obviously not at the rate I would if were full time.  By easing back into work like this, I can extend my vacation hours I'm using to be on leave and get paid in full.

The other major event happened on Wednesday, and, no, I'm not talking about Halloween.  On the 31st, KLC, the kids and I went to the King County Courthouse and KLC was legally allowed to adopt Iver (see photos on KLC's blog).  Even though we are domestic partners and married (in Canada), we still had to take this extra and expensive legal step to ensure that KLC is recognized as Iver's parent in every way.

Those of you who know me have no doubt about my Democratic loyalties, but things are a little more personal for me in this election.  In Washington state, we have Referendum 74 that would legalize same-sex marriage.  Along with a few other states, this is an opportunity to have this right voted into law, as opposed to being judicially mandated as in states like Massachusetts and others.

Of course, things won't change on a federal level until the so-called Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) is overturned.  For those of you who might think that domestic partnerships are good enough, I can offer this personal account: KLC have to pay taxes on our health care, can't be guaranteed our relationship and family are protected in all 50 states, and are denied a myriad of other rights that heterosexual couples enjoy.  All of this creates lots of stress and expense to deal with.

I don't know if Obama will be able to overturn DOMA, but I am 100% that Romney won't.  For this and a thousand other reasons, I think it's obvious who I will be voting for in the first election Iver will experience.  I just hope that 50.1% of the country agrees with me (and has their votes counted as such).

Move-A-Thon

The twins' school had a fundraiser on Friday where the kids ran or walked around a track for 20 minutes, getting sponsors to give them money per lap or for a fixed rate.  As someone who gave birth 7 weeks ago, the thought of running for 20 consecutive minutes seems like a pipe dream, but surely these kindergarteners couldn't either.  Right?

Wrong.  One twin ran 13 laps in 20 minutes.  The other went 16 laps.  This means that she clocked in two 10-minute miles.  I'm not sure I could have done that in my non-post-partum days, but I know she's a better runner than me now regardless.  If having 5-year olds be better endurance athletes than you is not motivation to get into better shape, I don't know what is.

Of course, they all had fun (which is supposedly what this thing is all about and not the egos of the adults who were watching.)  And, they looked very cute doing it.

Not Ready to Smile for the Camera

All of the baby development books say that they will start to smile -- and not just because of what's going on in the intestines -- around 6 weeks.  Whether we've been swayed by this or not, both KLC and I swear that we have seen evidence of real smiles from Iver.  In fact, KLC says he's beaming when she changes his diaper (this has not necessarily been the case for me.)

In any case, I haven't been able to capture any proof of the smiling because he seems to know whenever I whip out my iPhone to snap a picture. It's also hard to work the camera with one hand while holding the baby in the other. Still, he's cute even when he's looking all serious so I thought I'd post a couple of his non-smiling photos.

Chess Enthusiasts

This fall has been about new adventures for all of us in the family.  While Iver has been busy gaining weight -- up to 10 lbs 4 oz at yesterday's 4-week check up! -- the twins have been getting immersed in kindergarten.

One of the reasons why we moved to our current neighborhood is that all of the public schools (K-12) around us have great reputations.  In addition to good test scores, teachers, etc., their elementary school has lots of extra programs for the kids to participate in if they want.

We didn't want to overwhelm the twins with too many things after school, but we did sign them up for one: a chess club. It sounded a little early for me, but apparently lots of kids in this elementary school get started in their chess club in kindergarten.  I picked up the twins yesterday and found they were playing their first "real" chess game already.  I'm fairly certain that within a few more weeks, their chess abilities will surpass mine (which isn't hard to do).

Also this week, we celebrated KLC's birthday.  The twins "helped" by placing the candles on the cake ...

Visit from the Grandparents

Last week, Iver got to meet his Massachusetts grandparents for the first time.  It was great to have them out here.  And what did Iver want from his grandparents most of all?  To be held, which he was for about 98% of the time they were in the house.  Nothing seems to make the little guy happier.

On the Rebound

I've only got a little bit of time before Iver wakes up, so hopefully I can race through a post.  That's what I've found out about this whole process: how much time it takes.  By the time I nurse him, one of us gives him an ounce from a bottle, and then I strap myself up to the breast pump, I've got a limited window of time before everything needs to be repeated.

The good news is that Iver gained 3 ounces between Monday and Wednesday.  We have another weight check scheduled for Monday, so I'm hoping that the positive weight gain continues.  The other encouraging step is that since Wednesday I've been in possession of a hospital-grade breast pump.  This little device, which apparently costs about $4000, is a rental, of course.  Although it doesn't look or feel dramatically different than my borrowed Medela "Pump in Style" (you gotta love these names) that I was using, this is apparently the Mercedes of extracting breast milk.  It seems to be doing a good job so far.  While my pumping sessions are not much, much different, I have seen an increase in production over the past couple of days.  At this point, I'll take anything that is in the right direction.

That's all for now.  Iver is beginning to stir and that means our cycle is about to start again.  It's a good thing he's so cute and perfect (there's no mother's bias in that statement, of course) because it's not hard to want to do all of this just for him and his health.

Two Ounces Down

We brought Iver in yesterday for a weight check and, causing me some mild (ok, medium) anxiety, he had lost two ounces.

The nurse/lactation consultant, Brenda, was not terribly alarmed by this.  At least not like I was.  She simply said we need to try to increase my milk supply.  To do this I need to try pumping every time after I nurse the little guy.  In addition, we need to give him one ounce of formula, or, when I can produce via pumping, of breast milk following each feeding.

I know this is a not a unique situation where a baby needs to be supplemented with formula, but it's a little tough on my maternal ego.  I want to be able to supply Iver with all of his needs -- at least the nutritional ones.  What makes me feel slightly better is knowing that I am doing everything I can to produce as much milk as possible.  I don't know what makes me not as prodigious lactation-wise as I need to be, but I suppose trying to guess the reason(s) isn't particularly constructive at this point anyhow.

So this is where we are.  Nursing every 2-3 hours, with 15 minutes pumping at the end of each feeding plus a bottle feeding -- all of which takes about 45 minutes to complete.  Since you start the clock from the beginning of each feeding until the start of the next one, this gives me between 1.5 to 2.5 hours where I'm not in milk supply and delivery mode.  (KLC does the bottle feeding, diaper change, and re-swaddling so this doesn't really add extra time to my routine.)

Brenda said this pumping after every feeding thing will be "short term" so hopefully it will be enough to get the little guy to bulk up in the short term and boost my milk supply in the long term.  We go back to the doctor tomorrow for Iver's almost-2-week check up so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that there will be some demonstrable positive difference in his weight.

Adventures in Babysitting Babyfeeding

Iver is now a week old.  This means we've had 7 days to work on our team effort to breastfeed.  Some times we do well, other times not so much.  I think, however, we are learning.

About 30 minutes after he was born, a nurse gave Iver to me and he latched on immediately.  I thought, hey, that was easy.  After all, I had heard all of these horror stories about how difficult it could be to breastfeed.  Maybe this was another baby myth I shouldn't have bought into?

Well, not so fast.  Like I said, this has been a work-in-progress since.  There's no way I could do this without a) KLC who nursed the twins for 13 months despite thrush, mastitis, and other challenges early on, and b) all of the nurses/lactation consultants I have had access to through the hospital and my doctor.

Letting Iver treat my nipples like chew rings?  Yup.  Allow the baby to dictate how long he nurses -- ie, for 1.5 hours twice on Wednesday night/Thursday morning.  Why not?

Like I said, it's a good thing I have help.  Even though "my milk is in," it's not quite running like a river so I need to do things to -- pardon the pun -- pump up production.  This includes feeding him every 2-3 hours, but only for 10-15 minutes per side.  If I let him hang out indefinitely, not only do my breasts feel like they have been through a meat grinder, they also don't have enough time to replenish their supply.

The other recommendation has been to use the pump for 15 minutes or so after I'm done feeding him to stimulate production.  This is extra fun when you have 5-year-old twins in the house who find you doing it.  The result is this:

And this:

For those of you who can't decipher, this is the twins imitating me while I am pumping.  Fantastic to have an audience for these things!

The Name

It might not be obvious where our new little guy's name comes from -- or even how to pronounce it.

"Iver" (rhymes with "diver") is a Scandinavian name and also a family name on KLC's side.  Specifically, the name comes from KLC's mother's favorite uncle.  We thought it was different enough not to have him end up "Iver W." in school, but not too unusual that he would have to spell/defend it for the rest of his life.

There's also a family connection for the middle name.  My Uncle Ted was an important person in my mother's and our lives.  It was also the name of KLC's great-grandather on her mother's side.

BTW, if you are a parent or caregiver of any sort and need a laugh, I highly recommend this book: http://shttymom.com  I think the title speaks for itself.

Iver Theodore Has Arrived

I am very happy to say that on Saturday, September 8th, Iver Theodore Watzke was born.  Maybe because he shares his mother's sense of punctuality, he even managed to arrive on his due date.

Of course, the labor and delivery was a story itself.  On Friday, it was about 85 degrees here in Seattle. This is hot for anyone around here, but I felt it was extra taxing for me as I hit the 40-week mark of pregnancy.  Because of the heat (I thought), I was particularly uncomfortable.

KLC picked up the twins from kindergarten and then we went to our favorite bookstore to let the kids pick out a new book as a treat for finishing their first week of school.  I was sitting on a chair while they looked around and I felt some pressure in my lower abdomen.  Thinking it was the end of the day, I just dismissed it as general pregnancy discomfort.  After all, I had gone to the OB on Thursday -- just a day before -- and was told my cervix was still completely shut.  I took this to mean that it was unlikely I'd go into labor any time soon.

By the time we got back to the house and we did dinner and bath with the twins, I was feeling this "discomfort" more regularly.  Still not believing they were contractions, I agreed to KLC's suggestion to at write down what time I was feeling things.  There wasn't an obvious pattern at first, but then it seemed like they more or less were at 10-15 minute intervals.

Around 10pm, I conceded these very well could be contractions and called my doctor.  Luckily, my OB was on call that night so she answered and told me to call back if the contractions became 5 minutes apart, 1 minute in duration, for 1 hour.  (This is the "511" thing to memorize that they teach in birthing classes.)  She also said the contractions could stop and so not to necessarily expect to be giving birth any time soon.

Over the next couple of hours, I was half tracking the contractions and half falling asleep in between them.  By midnight, I was fairly sure I was reaching the 511 threshold.  I called the doctor back.  And waited.  And waited.  For some reason, my doctor didn't call me back (she could have been delivering a  baby or who knows what else.)  I was trying to be patient and not be the overly anxious first time mother, so I waited too.

Around 2:00am, I told KLC that I thought the contractions were closer than 5 minutes and thought we should just go to the hospital.  We called GSP, the twins' co-parent, who had agreed not only to watch the kids but also Comet (I don't what we would have done without her.)  She came over right away and we were off to the hospital.

We got to the maternity floor at Swedish Medical Center around 3:00am where the nurse promptly told me I was already 5cm dilated.  (You have to get to 10cm before you can push.)  While we were waiting to go the delivery suite, my water broke.  This, by the way, wasn't a huge flood as I imagined.  It was just another element of this whole process that doesn't fit the way it's portrayed on movies and TV.

Let me just pause here to say all of the doctors and especially the nurses we had were great.  At Swedish, you have a dedicated labor and delivery nurse who is with you at all times.  Zoe was young (she mentioned she was just a year out of school), but knew what she was doing.  During the contractions, she was totally calm and got me to breathe and move and work through them.  Between her and, of course, KLC, I had some phenomenal coaching and support which made a world of difference to me.

Between 3:00 and 6:00am, I tried just about everything I could to deal with the contractions.  I was in bed, I stood up, used the bouncy ball, and got in the tub.  The two things I thought would be most helpful -- the ball and the tub -- turned out not to work for me.  For example, the tub was great for the couple of minutes in between the contractions, but once it hit, I almost jumped out of the water because I felt claustrophobic.  Standing up and swaying ended up being probably the most (relatively speaking) comfortable position when the contraction was at its most intnse.

My OB came to the room around 7am and I finally got "permission" to push.  Up until this point, the nurse told me I had to wait to push until the cervix was completely gone or else pushing could make things go awry.  It seems funny, but that not pushing was one of hardest physical sensations I've ever felt.  So that even though the pushing was painful, it also felt like a relief.  (I've also heard women say it was good to feel like you were doing something as opposed to just bracing for the next contraction to hit.  I completely agree with this.)

After about an hour of real pushing, with KLC on one side, a nurse on another, and the doctor in the middle, I pushed and felt his head come out.  KLC was able to help pull the rest of him and then cut the umbilical cord.  Immediately, they put him on my chest for the skin-to-skin contact.  I was so grateful he was there and relieved that the pushing was over that I barely noticed anything else like the placenta or any of the tests they were doing to him or me.

We stayed in the delivery suite for a couple of hours, where Iver nursed for the first time.  After that, we went to our postpartum room where we were waited on by nurses and the room service food for the next 24 hours.  Because everyone was healthy, we were able to get all of the tests done and checked out of the hospital by noon on Sunday.

Sorry if this reads like a boring litany of events, but I realized that I would probably forget all of these details if I didn't write them down somewhere soon.  In hindsight, it was a great experience on so many levels.  I couldn't have done it, of course, with my partner in life for everything, KLC.  We have a lot to figure out and work through over the next weeks and months with a new baby, two high-energy five-year-olds, a 10-month-old puppy, an ornery cat, and 4 chickens (who are by far the lowest-maintenance members of the household), but I'm looking forward to doing this and everything else with our newly expanded family.

The Non-Labor Labor Day

Well, at least it is for me (as of 1pm) it is a non-labor Labor Day.  I am over 39 weeks but the little guy seems happy as a clam in there.  I had an OB appointment last Thursday and my doctor predicted it wouldn't be happening this week.  But she also prefaced that with, who knows what will happen and babies do whatever they want on their own schedule.

So as much as we have advanced in medical science, it is still a complete crapshoot as to when a woman goes into labor (unless she has a scheduled C-section or is induced -- neither of which I am planning on.)

The exciting news -- if you can detect my sarcasm -- is that my ankles and feet are swelling pretty regularly in the past week.  I know that many, many women have it much worse than me in this department, but I may be getting dangerously close to having cankles.  That alone is worth wishing labor gets going sooner rather than later.

Except that the twins start kindergarten on Wednesday.  Believe it or not, we've managed to have two fairly big life events planned for virtually the same week: the twins going to 5-day-a-week, full-day kindergarten at a new school for the first time and my having a baby.  Since I didn't give birth over the long holiday weekend (again, as of yet), we're basically hoping the little guy decides to stay in there at least through Thursday so that we can have a couple of days of regular drop offs and pick ups at the new school.  We'll see what he decides to do.

My OB says virtually every woman will go into labor on her own by 41.5 weeks.  That means that I could potentially have two more weeks of pregnancy.  If that's the case, I just hope my ankles will forgive me.

37 weeks and counting

In preparation for the new little guy, KLC and I have a) taken a 1-day child birth class, b) taken a 2.5-hour breast feeding class, and c) toured the hospital.  As an information gatherer, this makes me feel slightly more ready to give birth on a certain level.

On a more realistic plane, I am completely clueless about how this will all go -- and when.  I've always heard that first babies are late, which could mean I've got another four weeks to go.  This isn't a whole lot of time in the scheme of things, but on the days when I feel super uncomfortable, that sounds like a ton.

On the other hand, the thought of going into labor any second is also mildly terrifying.  We are fairly organized and have the car seat installed, etc., but still I have many questions running through my head.  For example, my ideal will be do to this with minimal "interventions" (aka, drugs), but how much does this whole thing really hurt?   Will I totally cave as soon as the contractions hit?

I know millions of women around the world do this every day and a vast majority of them have a lot fewer resources than I do, so I know I'm somewhat overthinking this.  As long as the little guy is healthy, I will try to stick my motto to suck it up and get him out safely (while probably swearing like a truck driver.)

Turning Five

The twins have officially turned five years old.  This happened yesterday, but, of course, there was a little confusion because their birthday party will be this Saturday.  (For the life of them, they couldn't figure out why everyone they wanted to come to the party -- including family from Portland -- couldn't drop everything and make it midweek.)

In honor of their becoming "big" kids who will be heading off to kindergarten in less than two months, I'm posting a few random pics from the past couple of weeks.  The water soakers have been a big hit at the nearby park where they open a wading pool three days a week during the summer.  The bowling experience was relatively successful, though I found it much easier to learn the candlepin way.  (I swear we also didn't bumpers when we were kids -- maybe today's parents see gutterballs as too much of a failure for kids to experience.)  Finally, the costumes -- Green Lantern and Flash for those who were wondering -- were a great gift from MeMa.  Now we just need to figure out a way keep them from wearing them every day ...

Traveling Road Show

This past week, KLC and I headed south and east to have a little road trip without the twins, who were spending a solid block of time with their Co-Parent and her mom (known since the twins could talk as "Mee-ma") who was visiting from Massachusetts.  KLC would be biking from roughly about Dayton, WA along the Lewis and Clark trail until Portland.

Even though I was a little sad not to be actually biking myself, I realized that really isn't appropriate or responsible behavior for someone who is nearly 8 months pregnant.  So Comet and I provided van support and were able to meet up with KLC at various points during the day while doing our own exploring.

We just arrived in Portland a little while ago, and KLC will be here in a couple of hours.  Here are a couple of pics from a little stop that Comet and I took in the Ainsworth State Park just outside of Portland.   There are several rather spectacular waterfalls here.  Comet, as with everything on this trip, was simultaneously curious and suspicious of these since they sprayed him with lots of mist.

There were a few things that I learned on this trip.  The first is that you can, indeed, go camping at this stage of pregnancy.  The second thing, perhaps more importantly, is do not attempt to do this on your regular Thermarest.  I learned this on our first night back in Dayton.  It wasn't a fun night since being on my back on hard ground.  Even with a little cushion of the Thermarest and sleeping bag, it just was not comfortable.

Luckily, we had the forethought to bring our queen-sized Aerobed and an enormous 'family' tent.  This meant the gigantic airbed, plus Comet's kennel, could fit in the tent.  Aside from having to find electricity to blow the huge thing up and dragging it across the campground once we did, the Aerobed made life possible in a tent for me at this stage of the pregnancy.

The last thing we experienced, which we already knew, is that after a few nights of camping, almost nothing feels better than checking into a hotel, taking a long shower that doesn't require quarters, and sleeping in relative luxury.  Especially while semi-enormous and pregnant.  This is exactly what we did and had a great 4th of July in Hood River, OR.  Hope you did too.

Comet Loves His Pink Monkey

Comet loves his pink monkey.  You can't really tell from this picture, but the thing really does have a head.  It also used to have stuffing throughout it, but that was before Comet ripped open a hole in its shoulder and started pulling out the stuffing like he was sucking a straw.

This is Comet at his best behaved, which routinely comes after getting a little bit of time at the nearby off-leash dog park like he did early this morning.  If we could just get him to sit or lie on his dog bed when we command him to, then we'd be all set.

15 Seconds of Embarrassment

On Monday, I had my routine monthly exam with my OB.  A few days before, I got a call from her office asking if it was OK if KING-5 news (a local TV station in Seattle) interviewed me about the pertussis shot I was going to get.  (For those of you not in Washington state, there's been a spike in the number of cases of whooping cough this year for some reason.)  Since I routinely nag scientists to speak to reporters as part of my job, I felt obligated to say yes.

You can see my semi-ridiculous TV moment here: http://www.king5.com/health/childrens-healthlink/Pregnant-women-urged-to-get-whooping-cough-vaccine-158700485.html  You probably can tell from my rapid fire response that I didn't fully know that getting the shot would vaccinate the baby until he can get the shot himself at 6 months or whatever -- I was just doing my doctor recommended.  So I just sputtered on camera.

Somewhere, Diane Sawyer is resting easy about me taking her job.

Mother's Guilt ... Already?

OK, not really.  I'm not actually into making myself feel badly about things that other people may or may not think, but I do catch myself questioning whether I'm doing everything a parent-to-be ought to be.

First off, I haven't been keeping a pregnancy journal or diary or anything.  My thought was this blog would serve as some sort of record of the whole experience, but I haven't been very consistent in this arena lately.

Secondly, I do not routinely check any sort of week-by-week pregnancy website or book.  I'm trusting the little guy is coming along as he needs to and my doctor has been assuring me of this, but I'm not really on top of certain details of development, etc.  (I am, however, completely aware of week I am, since there's both an excited and semi-panicked countdown going on in my head until I give birth.)

I realize that I have a lot going on in my life at this point -- the twins, full-time work, writing a book on the side, a very energetic puppy, etc. -- but I don't want to let this whole pregnancy experience pass me by and then not remember the details of what happened.  My memory is bad enough without 'pregnancy brain' or whatever they call the excuse for being completely absent-minded during these 9ish months.

So I will try to be more diligent on posting here on the blog.  I just want to make sure I don't forget everything.  (Plus, it's never too early to stockpile details to hang over your children's heads to make them realize your suffering in creating them.)  But if I don't, I promise myself that I won't make myself feel too guilty ... most of the time.

The Myth of 9 Months

Since you are a kid, you hear about how pregnancy lasts nine months.  Until you actually get pregnant --and it turns out to be a 40-week affair.  Now, it's been a while since I've taken math, but I do know this translates into 10 months.  I'm just saying.

Of course, there is the whole business of when doctors start counting what week you are on, etc., but the bottom line is that even though today I am at 25 weeks, I am not in my third trimester.  Apparently that happens at week 28.

I have started to read a little bit more about giving birth and breast feeding and all of the other responsibilities I will have to take care of, while simultaneously trying not to freak myself out.

KLC, meanwhile, has been busy doing very productive and practical things like preparing the house.  I had the idea that since the baby was coming in early September (supposedly), we'd leave the office/nursery more or less as is until some time in August.

Fortunately, someone in this relationship has already gone through this and has started to prepare.  We now have a changing table, rocker, cloth diaper stuff (again, I need to learn how to use it), clothes and more in what has become more nursery than office.   I can still work in the office/nursery, but as each day goes by, it edges slightly more towards a nursery/office.

So overall, I'm feeling pretty good, able to work out regularly, etc.  I've heard rumors that things get much harder very soon, but since I am still in my second trimester according to the experts, I'll assume that doesn't apply to me for at least a little while longer.

Back on the Blog Wagon

It's been quite a while since I last posted anything to the blog.  It's not for lack of things to say.  Instead, my blog inaction is more due to too much going on.  So I'll blame not enough time and, to some extent, having no clue where to start.

Well, enough is enough, and I'm back on the blog wagon.  First things first.  Most of you who read this will already know this, but for the stray reader, here's the news: I'm about 5 ½ months pregnant. 

There are lots of juicy scenarios that we could concoct to make this whole two-women-make-a-baby thing possible, but the real story is a little more routine.  KLC and I decided to take the remaining vials of sperm from the twins' conception and see what my 38-year-old reproductive system would do.  And, after on the second try, everything worked! After a series of ultrasounds and blood work (all of which came back normal), we are now excitedly expecting a baby boy in early September. 

If I sound calm and rational about this, it's just because the printed word doesn't convey my varying levels of neuroses.  For example, now that I have this baby inside me, how the hell does it come out?  (OK, I know on a certain level, but it's the fine points that I haven't fully worked out yet.)

The good news is that I have a partner in KLC who has done this before with two no less, not to mention the advice and counsel of many of my friends and family (as well as the resources of billions of women on the planet who have managed to successfully give birth over the years.)  Again, the devil is this whole delivery thing may be in the details.

The twins are excited about their new sibling, but even more so that it's a boy.  One twin said that now that he knows the baby is an acceptable his gender (his) that he let the baby in the room.  (Not quite sure what steps he would have taken to prevent a baby sister from entering his private sanctuary, but I'm glad we don't have to go down that path.)  The other twin has been asking for a baby in the house for years, so I think she is just happy to be getting the chance to constantly pick someone up who is much smaller than her be a big sister.

Since I know that some of them read this blog, I want to take a moment and thank everyone who came to my shower this past weekend in Massachusetts.  It amazes me that, even though I live far away, as soon as I get together with my friends there's an immediate sense of comfort and honesty.  There's nothing that can replace people who have known you for decades at this point (yes, it's true, we are that old). I wish that I could package you guys up and take you with me to the Pacific Northwest.  Barring that, I'm just grateful that I get to see everyone from time to time.  I am really thankful that I have the friends and family that I do. 

And, I'm not just saying this because I will be calling/emailing you in a panic about having a newborn and anything else life throws at me.  But I will be doing exactly that.

Our Little Lamb

This picture is of Comet from a couple of weeks ago -- right after he had surgery on his ears.  Our puppy had hematomas (that is, fluid-filled pockets) in both ears.  The vet isn't quite sure what caused them, but hopefully this procedure will take care of them from now on.

As a byproduct of the surgery, Comet had to have his ears shaved.  The vet staff told us that Comet looked like a little lamb with his shaved ears -- and I have to say that I totally agree.  (He looks like a regular puppy these days since the fur has all grown back since this photo was taken.)

The Great Wolf Lodge

This week, I did something that I would have never, ever done in my previous (single) life.  I spent almost 24 hours at a place called The Great Wolf Lodge (http://www.greatwolf.com/).

These don't exist in New England -- but they do elsewhere in the United States in case you are traveling with children in the near future.  I have some fairly bad associations with water parks after Water Country (I'm not quite sure why except I feel like it was kind of old and dirty).  The Great Wolf Lodge, or GWL as we can call it, is a little different.

The first thing is that the GWL is all indoors and I'm fairly sure you are required to stay there in order to use the water park.  It's located about 1.5 hours south of Seattle, in a town that has not much else as far as we could tell.  But the whole point of going to the GWL is that you don't need to leave.  It's like a mini-Disneyworld or something.

Now that I've made it sound scary and horrible, I want to say that the kids had a blast.  And since it is south of Seattle, KLC's mom was able to make the easy drive up from Portland and meet us.  Our GWL seems pretty new so there was none of that is-this-water-really-clean worry.  In fact, I have to say that KLC and I went on one water slide ourselves (you had to be 48" or taller so the twins were out of luck) that was kind of awesome.

If, however, you ever hear that KLC and I went there on our own without any children, I give you permission in advance to perform any type of intervention you see fit.

Cat + Kids+ Chickens + Dog = ?

The elements in the equation above are in order of their appearance.  (Notice KLC and I are not part of this -- we just work here.)  Zeek has been with KLC for over a dozen years, and obviously the kids are now 4 and half.  Last spring we decided to get some chickens, and then this Christmas our latest addition has been Comet.

All of the family members -- human and otherwise -- have their own personalities, and, to put it politely, needs.  Sometimes the kids and Comet need to be separated because of mutually-induced frenzied behavior.  Sometimes Zeek likes to swipe at Comet if he's getting too close or being too much of a puppy.  And right now, the chickens are getting to run around the yard themselves on this very sunny day in Seattle.  (Note: do not put a puppy outside with free-roaming chickens in the yard.)

This very full house is a far cry from my serene (and often too quiet) days in my condo in Boston.  While there are times where KLC and I both wish for a little less volume, I wouldn't change a thing.  Well, that's not entirely true.  I've recently started experimenting with working outside of the house at this coworking office about a mile away: http://www.mapleleafbranch.org/  Because for all of the chaos we like in our personal lives, it's a little stressful during a phone call or -- better yet, video conference call -- to worry about what noise or image might appear.

He's Getting Bigger ...

Yesterday, I got back from a work trip to Austin, TX.  Even though I was only gone a few days, I swear Comet looks bigger.  To document his dramatic metamorphosis, I took a couple of videos:

http://youtu.be/SYHHpb3pNEM
http://youtu.be/Q7lbdoHUqFs


OK, I might a little biased in his size transformation, but I know this little guy has grown.  I'm taking him into the vet today for his next round of vaccinations and shots, so he'll get weighed then.  Last time, he was 6.1 lbs, this time who knows ...

Cats and Dogs

There's a good reason why the stereotype exists that cats and dogs don't get along. Especially when one is a strong-willed 12-year-old cat (Zeek) and the other is a bouncy, 9-week-old puppy (Comet.)

Since we adopted Comet on Christmas Eve, Zeek, to put it mildly, hasn't been the most welcoming. Comet is a puppy who wants to play with everyone and everything -- especially when he gets in his ultra-hyper mode at least once a day and no limb, digit, and body part is off limits for chewing.  For his part, Zeek will hiss at this canine intruder, he'll swat when that doesn't work, and generally does his best to stay away from this 6 pounds of fur who seems to be wherever he goes.

I do think, however, that we are beginning to turn a corner between the two.  While it's not exactly a close friendship yet, I think Zeek is beginning to tolerate accept Comet a little more each day.  I see them walk by each other without a (bad) reaction more frequently, and Zeek seems a little more open to the puppy antics.  And, I found the pair of them in this configuration when I stepped out of my office for a few minutes this morning.

So they're not actually napping with each other, but I'll interpret this as a step in the right direction.