Wanderlust

The O Face

At the risk of saturating our site with all things Owen, I had to share a little nickname we have for him. We call him O-face. And while those of you who have seen "Office Space" will surely understand, I thought I would give you a quick pic of his O face. He makes this face when he's awake, surveying the world. It's hard to tell if he's rooting for nursing or if he's simply responding to our faces or a noise in the room. But the expression always makes me giggle.
Oh, by the way, thanks to all friends and family who have showered us with flowers, gifts and well wishes. It's very much appreciated. For those of you who have asked if there is anything we need for Owen because you wanted to send a gift, we could really use some more onsies- size 0-3 months (the pajamas with feet and hand coverings that snap or zip up the front) so I don't have to do laundry every day. Also, we would really like to build up Owen's collection of books (we do read to him a few times a day- he pretends to be sleeping while this goes on). Board books are best right now. They're short and sweet and can be sucked on without too much damage sustained. Thanks again!

Letters to the O

Week One:

It's hard to believe you're finally here with me. All those months of nausea, discomfort, swelling feet and all the time it was you. Those huge saucer blue eyes that gaze intently into the swimming shadows of my face were with me all those months. It's not like I thought you were some kind of mutant baby, but I had no idea how much I would adore you. I certainly never thought you would be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I snuggle your downy head under my chin, take deep breaths of your new skin and wonder if I will always feel so vulnerably in love with you.

When I walked out into the frosty, dawning morning of your birth, the trees were thick with crusty snow and icicles. Swirls of fog clung to the pavement and rolled along the sidewalk in the darkness. Your father put his arms around me and I sighed. A beautiful day to be born. Later that day, as the sun rose on my laboring hours, the sky turned tremendously blue. You were born to Led Zepellin III just before noon.

You weren't crying when you entered our world. Your eyes were wide and wondering. Since then, these have been my favorite moments with you. Awake and scanning the room, following patterns of light and turning your head towards the rumbling of our voices. You have the longest fingers I have ever seen and you curl them around mine with a ferocious grip. You also have a talent for peeing yourself repeatedly and the enormous amounts of laundry that result have been the bain of my existance. And yet everytime you do it, I can only shake my head and laugh. Just delighted to have you here with me, peeing on my sleeve.

This first week has been a struggle to hit our stride with breastfeeding. Sore, cracked nipples, akward latching and worries about your jaundice plagued our waking and sleeping hours those first few days. The doctor had me keeping a logbook of your poop. So glamorous. Color, consistency, frequency. I'll show it to your girlfriend some day. And when my milk finally let down early this week, you became a ravenous beast. You're never happy unless you have a milk soaked nipple in your mouth. We spend nights both exhausted by the demands of your tiny stomach and incessant mouth. And yet, just today, as I cradled you close to me shrouded in blanket and soothed by your sucking sounds, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

Who would have thought I would give a shit?

Poop. From now on, you will probably hear more than you want about poop. As new parents, it is our honorary duty to bore and gross you with detailed descriptions of all things poop in babyland. I've always wondered why new parents seem to be so fascinated with their offpsrings bowel movements- and so compelled to share. But the reason is simply that doctors and nurses seem obsessed with it as a sign of baby's well being. And once you've been kept awake all night by a gassy, fussy baby, you'll understand why new parents give a shit. Literally.

Since we've been home, life has been strange and wonderful. I can't bear to be out of Owen's company for a minute and I've been guilty on more than one occasion of rushing in and peeking into the crib just to make sure he's still there. So cliche. Breastfeeding has been the largest challenge- both for Owen and myself. Owen was pretty jaundice at the hospital and by the second day we were concerned because he was no longer pooping (or peeing often enough). And since I didn't have my milk in yet, I wasn't able to help him out much in the food department. By Sunday, when my milk "let down" (and when I say let down, I mean I woke up in the middle of night with a shirt soaked in breast milk- yummy!) Owen started to eat in earnest, but he still wasn't pooping. The next day we went to see the lactation consultant, who made sure we were doing this whole latching thing right. Back at home, armed with good advice, we started feeding every two hours.

From then on, the boy has been insatiable and he's been making up for his previous constipation by pooping and peeing twice as much. Thanks, O. Relieved of our worries and hopefully over the worst of the jaundice, Owen begs to eat every hour and a half and after two fussy nights in a row, has given us a three hour and then a two hour stretch of uninterrupted sleep last night. Ah, bliss. Amazing how little sleep you will accept as miraculous.

On the website front, we've got a new gallery of Owen's pictures and George will shortly put up a direct link in the side bar so you can access them quickly (that's for the grandparents, who just can't get enough Owen). Also, check out the Ocam to see him snoozing. He still sleeps with us at night so you won't get much of anything exciting then except the light going on and off when I'm nursing or changing him. But during the day I put him down in his crib to nap often, so try to catch him then. We'll have more updates soon... and we'll try not to inundate you with too much Owen. I can't promise I'll spare you the poop stories though.

Ode to Kaz

We finally got home today around, uh, 1pm? I can't remember. The past 3 days have been a wonderful blur and we are both mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. This morning we had big plans for today, but it looks like we are just really happy to be home with Owen and the dogs.

I am absolutely surprised and amazed how Kaz has handled this whole thing. She has done better than I could imagine. At first it was hard watching her go through the pain of contractions, and knowing full well it is only going to get worse. But once she went into that special "pain cave" where it doesn't hurt so much, she made me feel better about her feeling bad. Yeah, I couldn't converse with her (I could offer suggestions and commands like breathe), I couldn't touch her, and she seemed like she was unaware of exactly what was going on. But I really thought she was on a pain scale of 8.75 rather than the 11.5 she confessed to later that evening. Amazing. I'm so glad we did it natually, without pain meds, and with our midwife Karen who made the whole thing feel cool. Even with her pain, it really didn't seem as bad as I thought it would be. According to Kaz it was horrific, but it sure didn't seem that way. I don't think she even screamed once. There were loud groans, moans, and grunts, but no screams and grabbing of my arm or blaming me for the world's problems.

What else is amazing is that later on that night, I was wasted and worthless. I was so tired and generally out of it from everything that day that I couldn't quite function right. Kaz was still up, aware, and pretty happy. I'm thinking, dammit, I didn't do shit, shouldn't she be sleeping or something? But no, Kaz doesn't need sleep. She is a superwoman. Even 5 minutes after birth, Kaz was smilling, happy and talking like the whole thing lasted 10 minutes. I was still freaked out by the huge cord and Owen's oblong head.

I absoutely believe that the reason Owen is in great health, 8lbs 0oz, 20 inches, had a HUGE cord and a HUGE placenta (even the midwife was impressed), lots of hair, good looking (from a dad's point of view), and big balls, is because Kaz took care of herself during pregnancy. She walked the dogs all the time, drank enough water to fill a big pond, took her vitamins, ate good hippie food, slept well, and generally was good to her body. All this is from her dedication to making sure Owen would have a fighting chance in the world. I could not have done it so well. Hands down. Hell, she didn't complain much until 1 week before Owen was born. I thought for sure she would slow down, quit the job early, or at least call "pregnancy" when it came to lifting stuff, bending over, housework, chores, or basicially anything. She was a machine, and that machine made an awesome kid.

So thanks Kaz, for doing something I couldn't do half as good, if I were a woman. And when Owen gets older he will thank you for giving him a great start. You are truly amazing to me.

I'm a parent!

So we're now just relaxing at the hospital, watching some mindless TV. It is really boring in the hospital, especially when you are too tired to do anything really cool, and too tired to really sleep. Owen has been really awesome today. We learned a couple of lessons too.

-- His jewels are huge.
-- You should burb the baby after each breast and after feeding. He will be much happier.
-- Make sure the diaper is completely on. And when changing him, let him finish his business before you take care of his business.
-- On that same thread, watch out for his little hose while changing, it erupts without warning.
-- We learned how to wrap Owen like a burrito and eat Mexican in the same day. Yes we can multitask.
-- Owen likes to poop alot. He pooped about 5 times today, and the day isn't over yet. This is really really good.
-- Hospital food is awesome.
-- TV during the day is stupid and boring.

We took some really cool pictures today, but since we are going to be home tommorrow, we will setup a gallery with all the picture you could ever want to see of a baby. In the meantime, here is a cute one for those who can't get enough baby pictures. I always thought baby pictures were over-rated, but now that I have my own baby, I found myself early today looking at baby pictures on the internets in a new way. I guess we are now in that club, the parent club. Does membership have it's benefits? Absolutely.

Our little burrito

I finally slept last night, althought not well, and I feel much better than last night. I was exhausted, and still surprised Kaz didn't seem anywhere near as tired as I was. I really didn't do anything yesterday, at least compared to her.

This morning we were visited by our pediatrician. He looked over all of Owen and said that everything looked fine. He was happy to hear Owen's been pooping like mad and eating. We decided to stay until tommorrow morning, on advice of the pediatrician. I guess it normal to stay for 48 hours to watch the baby.

On a side note, I found out that Owen's huge balls are not because he is swollen down there, it is because they are huge. Even the pediatrician noted that they are larger than normal (but not a bad thing). Good boy! The boy has a set of 'em. I just hope that this doesn't mean he'll be full of testosterone and then be stubborn. Unlike his dad who is paitent and understand, all the time. On the upside, maybe he'll be able to grow a real beard before he is 30, unlike me, I'm still waiting to grow more than some glorified peach fuzz on my face.

Memoirs on Mommihood Part VII

Owen's Arrival

It's hard to believe it was only this morning that I was dozing fitfully, up and down out of bed like a jack in the box. At 2:45am I laboriously turned my cumbersome body and felt a gush of fluid. I sprinted out of bed before the scarce quarter cup of liquid could soak the sheets and exclaimed,

"I think my water just broke!"

George turned on the light and rubbed his eyes groggily. "Are you sure?"

Half an hour later in the shower, the contractions began. For the past two days I'd been having extreme amounts of lower back pressure and what I like to politely call "bowel pressure." My contractions were less like muscular convulsions and more like cramps. They were strong enough that I had to reach out and hold onto something as we struggled to pack, feed the dogs and think of every last item we might possibly need but would inevitably never use. We strolled into the hospital at around 3:45am and I have to admit to a certain amount of giddiness. I had no idea what to expect but in less than 24 hours I wouldn't be pregnant anymore. And who wouldn't feel happy about that? Ah... so young. So naive.

An hour later the giddiness had faded into something approach alarm. By the time I got settled in the hospital room my contractions had intensified to the point where I couldn't offer smart ass answers to the intern who was taking something called a "patient assessment." It seemed like a gallop poll gone wrong with irrelevant questions and even absurder language. As I hissed through the sharpening pain of my contractions, I simply glared at her when she used a fancy schmancy medical term and gave her an "I don't think so," which was obviously not a choice she was given on screen and led to extended amounts of frustration on both our parts.Another nurse used me as a sticking pin.It took them five tries and two nurses to run an IV for antibiotics. Jennifer, my nurse, kindly stuck her hand up me and determined I was not going home today. I was already a five.

By 6:30 the contractions and low lying pressure approached the "don't touch me, don't look at me... I live in my own world of pain and I can't hear you here." I was puking every once in awhile with the pain- lovely yellow acid stuff. My midwife, Karen, wasn't due in until 8:30 since some other dumb girl had decided to have a baby this morning. The nerve. While waiting I tried the bath, the rocking chair, and every other conceivable spot to relieve the pain but oddly enough, the only place I was able to breathe through the contractions was either standing straight up and pacing or laying on my back.

When Karen arrived I was an 8. The room was thrilled and I felt slightly elated. 2 more centimeters, a quick bout of pushing and it was over. No epidurals, no begging for mercy. I had maintained my dignity, despite the constant stream of fluid that leaked out of me with every contraction. Hey. Babies ain't glamorous.

An hour later, Karen had to be paged because I had quickly become a 10. I was instructed to start pushing at around 9:30. With the first bout of pushing I realized this was going to be the hard part. I braced myself. I can get through a half hour of anything.

After half an hour they had me on oxygen and it was beginning to dawn on me that Owen had a very large head. After an hour I began to think about seriously giving up on this whole labor thing and begging them to just take it out. Suction sounds so pleasantly unoffensive. My water broke then with a dramatic splash. After an hour and a half, when Karen asked me if I wanted to feel the hair she was just beginning to see, my first thought was- I don't really give a shit. Get him out. The problem was his head was faced the wrong way and he needed to turn to get through the canal. The other problem was that putting something the size of a watermelon through a hole that used to be the size of a quarter is not possible. After two hours, his head had finally been appropriately cone sized and my perineum had been ripped enough. With two bouts of massive pushing, out he came. I had a moment of terror when his head was out and I still had to push his shoulders out with the next contraction. I didn't think I had it in me, but then I thought about walking around with his head hanging out of me for the next nine months and figured I should at least try. I faintly heard George say "Holy crap," and I think I said "Thank God, it's over!"

Owen didn't cry at first, just blinked. He was all purple and blue eyed. George cut the cord and they put him on my chest. It's amazing how your world shrinks to this object in your arms. I didn't hear much of the conversation that was literally taking place between my legs. Something about the amazing "Paul Bunyon" size of my umbilical cord and placenta. Even when Karen was politely numbing me up and stitching away, I was focused on trying to get Owen to nurse.

Yes, it was the most painful and enormously stupid thing I have ever undertaken. But I am shocked to say that Owen seems rather cute for a baby. George has actually spent more time bathing and changing and wrapping him than me. I'm just the milkman. He was hungry and grazed for the first two hours and has been sleeping like a champ ever since. Right now he and George are snoozing on the couch, no doubt both dreaming about women and glasses of beer. Just what I needed. Another good looking, lovable man in my life. Miles will be so jealous.

6pm

Just about the time I fell asleep for 10 minutes, it was time for Owen's first bath. So we cleaned him up, and now he smells like a fresh clean baby. I took some pictures, and as you can see, he is pretty cute. But, of course, this is coming from his dad. He's being doing great, and he's been sleeping for a good 2.5 hours so far, because he is damn tired. You would be too. We will actually have to wake him to make him eat. I don't know why, because you wouldn't have to wake me for breasts. But, mayeb it's okay, because I'm very tired. Wow, I didn't think I'd be so tired. It went so fast, but it seemed long.

Looking back, Kaz did an incredible awesome job. I can't believe it. She totally surprised me. I asked her what the pain level was on a scale of 1 to 10 (she did the birth naturally) and she said 11.5. I call bullshit on that one because I would have guessed from the expressions and her reactions an 8.75. So she did great and it was amazing to watch her push this little thing out.

Some quick facts:
-- Her water actually broke while she was pushing and splashed out like a huge squirt gun.
-- The cord was larger in diameter than a quarter. It was damn near as big as Owen's arm or leg. I'm not shitting you. The midwife was surprised and impressed. Even the placenta was extrodiarilly large.
-- Kaz was pushing for two hours, the whole labor was about 9 hours.
-- Before Owen's bath, he wasn't happy unless he was feeding.

Kaz should have her own post in a short while. Meanwhile enjoy some pictures. I'm sure I'll be taking a couple hundred in the next couple of days. And don't worry, I'll make sure we have some nice pictures taken for family and friends who want to have a picture of a wrinkley baby hanging somewhere.

11:51am, The deal is done

Owen is now born! 8lbs 0oz. It was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. I'm still freaked out a little bit. I got lots to share, but I'm at home letting the dogs out and I still gotta call some people. We will have more details later, and some better pictures. As I was standing there, watching Owen breathe for the first time, our midwife said, "do you have a camera?". I said yes. Then she said, "do you want to take some pictures?". Then I remembered that I even owned a camera and knew how to opperate one. So I took some, but I was too much in awe to really take good pictures. I will take a whole bunch in a little bit and try to post some on the internets. For now, enjoy a picture of Kaz telling someone the good news.

9am

Kaz is now 8cm dialated and paper thin. She's been having contractions every 2-3 minutes and they are painful. Nothing seems to help (positions, standing, sitting, leaning). I think she's gone to the bathroom about a 100 times since we've been here. We're just waiting and contracting.

They are now pulling in equipment into the room as we listen to Gordon Lighfoot on the iPod. Our midwife, Karen, says it might two hours until he comes. Maybe even 10:30. I feel very helpless. There is nothing for me to do. She doesn't want to be touched and she doesn't want to talk anymore. It sucks watching her like this, but I think she is doing awesome. Actually the nurse says that she is doing great with controlling the pain during contractions. She is also breathing slowly and concentrating on relaxing. She needs to conserve her energy for the big push. (pun intended).

I'm not sure I'll ge to write anymore until after. So don't worry if it's been a while. This might start to get freaky very quickly and very soon (in a good way).

6am

So we went to the hospital. They checked over everything and asked a billion questions. They checked her and she was at 4-5cm at 4am. They also checked to see if her water broke. Surprisingly, it did not, but we are definately in labor. She is having contractions every 2-3 minutes, but they seem to slowing up. Right now we are just chilling, waiting for this to progress.

I've been saying to everyone that I'm ready for the baby, and I'm not too excited. But when we were sitting on the bed, figuring out if we need to go to hospital (it was 3am in the morning), I felt like I wasn't ready at all. I didn't freak out, but I thought, dammit, I'm not ready. But now that we are in the hospital, I'm not so concerned. It's not up to me, it's up to Owen, and apparently he's ready to come out. So ready or not, here he comes....

Words heard around the world...

At 2:45am, Kaz said,

"I think my water just broke."

Next stop, hospitial.

Something to seriously consider before getting a parrot as a pet...

http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/europe/01/17/uk.parrot/index.html

Weekend of Gluttony

Holy shit did we eat alot of food this weekend. It started with Thursday night. I went to this Vietnamese place and had this huge bowl of soup with these strips of beef in it. When I say huge, I'm talking about 2-3 quarts of it. It was good and I didn't finish it.

Then on Friday we went out for breakfast and I had a ham and cheese omelette with four, thick, juicy pieces of bacon on the side. That night we went to The Melting Pot. You can see the previous post and Kaz's post about that. That was enough food for the weekend.

But, on Saturday we had a big bowl of hippy buckwheat for breakfast. Yummy! For dinner we had a dozen chicken wings and finished a large pizza. Plus I had some fresh homemade sticky buns.

On Sunday we had omelettes. But for dinner we made chilli. We made a lot of chilli and we both had two bowls of it. It was some good chilli made with ground beef and sausage. Yummy to my tummy! The chilli was accompanied by fresh homemade buttermilk bread. That is some good stuff. For desert it was two pieces of sticky buns. Again yummy to my tummy!

Today I almost felt full from the weekend. I almost could have gone without eating. I definately have sympathy pregnacy. I can understand Kaz being so hungry but me? I can't wait for Kaz to stop being pregnant because I think we just eat together and then tend to have the same appetite. After this birth thing, we are both going to start exercising alot more. And I'm not eating as much. I won't change my diet because I think we eat good already (except when we eat out). I just need to move around more, in the form of actually increasing my heart rate, and stop eating those damn good sticky buns two at a time...

Melting in Food and snow

For my birthday, Kaz took me to The Melting Pot in SLC. Rob recommended it and I thought it sounded great. What I didn't realize is that it is kind of a classy place, and very expensive. But, it is very very good and you get lots of food. There was so much food it made me sleepy, and I had Kaz drive home while I played DJ on the iPod. I thoughly enojyed it. You can read Kaz's review at our We Recommend page.

My birthday was nice, and we didn't have any babies. I am ready for the baby, but I didn't want to share my birthday with him. I wanted him to have his own day. I still think we won't have it until next weekend or so, but everday there are more contractions, more of him pushing his head into Kaz's cervic. There are statistics saying that babies are born more often during full moon's and storms. Well last night was a full moon, and there is supposed to be some crazy snow storm coming today (we got like an inch of snow last night but we're supposed to get like a thousand feet today, I'll believe it when I start up the snowblower to clear it). So if we make it past today, I think we'll go until next weekend. Kaz's last day of work was Thursday, so she'll be cleaning the house and cooking me dinners... uh... I mean... relaxing and preparing for the birth. This might help or slow things along, I don't know.

I've also realized that there are a ton of birthdays around in January. In Kaz's and my families, there is something like 5 or 6. Then I can add in another 6 or so from friends I know. I think there is a reason for this. If you go back 9 months (40 weeks) before January, it is the April/May time frame. Springtime. Springtime is mating season and when people start showing more skin and get more frisky. I'm not saying people have sex only in the springtime. I'm saying people have more sex with less protection and more passion during springtime. I know I'm more horny during springtime.

So, any day now, we'll be announcing the beginning of birth. Hopefully we can add some posts as things progress. In the past months, all I wanted to do is get everything ready so there is nothing to do in January but wait for Owen to decide to come out. And I think we've accomplished this. What's weird is everyone seems so excited for us. Kaz and I are excited, but not as much as everyone else around us. Maybe because we know we'll still have to change his smelly diapers after we take cute pictures of him for you to see.

George's 32nd...

That's right folks. It's George's birthday today and he turns 32. Fortunately, he won't have to share his birthday with a new baby for now.
Happy birthday, George!
Here's to another year of challenges, surprises and enjoying the company of my best friend. I love you.
Kaz

Happy Birthday???

So...ummmm... I started like having contractions and stuff at around 2 this afternoon, which is not terribly unusual these days except for the fact that these started off ten minutes apart (mine are usually twenty or fifteen at most) and they kinda faintly...hurt. They got closer as the day wore on, although I did stay at work. When I left they were about eight mintues apart. For the last two hours, they've been about six minutes apart, accompanied by back pain and nausea as well as an intense need to put away every last little thing on the countertop when I walk past it. So we're going to take a shower, keep timing and keep you posted. Five minutes and we've been instructed to mosey over to the hospital. The only thing that puzzles me is I thought this was supposed to be a frantic, mind blowing pain. It sucks but geesh... it's not death.
Almost Friday the 13th, George's birthday and a full moon on the 14th. It was an accident waiting to happen. And I mean that in the nicest way, Owen.

I'm here

Some of you may have been wondering where I've been on this website for the past month or so. Well, I've been growing a beard! And growing a beard takes lots of work.

But seriously, I've been very preocupied with work, baby stuff, house and now my new ipod (it's taking a long time to get all our CD's on it). But I have been working on the website, and we've updated and added some things to it. First off, I updated the webcam page. It now has a webcam you can control, and we added an "ocam" which will be pointed at his crib. Right now, as you can see, he isn't there (as of this post's date), but he will be coming any day now.

I've also cleaned up the navigation on the top and included a new about page so you can learn new stuff. We now have four main sub topics, Poll, We Recommend, Weekly Wisdom, and our new one Kitchenry. These change about once a week and are featured on the right side of the main page.

Other than those pages, I'm working on some other things to improve the website. But I've been focused on other things including growing a beard. We plan on having a bunch of pictures of the kid posted as soon as we can. We will also try to announce the beginning of labor, as well as some in progress updates. Too bad I don't have a camera phone, or you could get some pictures as it happens. My birthday is coming up and maybe you could loan me your camera phone?

I will leave you with this. Everytime I watch it, I can't help but laugh out loud.

Waking, Walking Wretchedness

"Wretch·ed adj. wretch·ed·er, wretch·ed·est
In a deplorable state of distress or misfortune; miserable."

It's one thirty in the morning and even though its Friday night, us old folks are usually sound asleep by now. But not me... nope. It's official. Let the sleep deprivation begin.

About three months ago I stopped being able to sleep through the night without getting up at least once to pee. This was not terribly inconvenient, although strange for me since, as a side effect of frequent extended family road trips as a kid, I typically have marathon bladder. Then, a month ago, the intense ITCHING began. And when I say ITCHING, you have no idea the torture that word contains. The yearning for places beyond reach, every inch of skin a mass of writhing irritation that no lotion, body butter, or supplement can ease. This ITCHING, of course, made even sleep uncomfortable. But once I managed to fall asleep, the rest of the night wasn't so bad. Then, two weeks ago, I hit the wall of insomnia.

I can't tell you exactly why I awaken every hour and a half. It's not really that I have to pee or am thirsty, although I do get a drink of water and go to the bathroom everytime. It's not even that I feel restless- are you kidding? I'm bone dead tired. I feel like a zombie shuffling around under hundred pound shackles. It's not the itching, although there is this spot on my back that I just can't reach and if you were here right now I'd beg you for just a little help... right there, a little lower... AHHHHH! I try proping various encumbered body parts up on pillows. I make sure the humidity in the room is optimal to reduce dry nasal passages and unnecessary snoring. I sleep naked because twisting clothes seem to entrap me at every turn. Nothing helps. A good night is if I get up three times between eleven and five thirty, using the outjutting wall to heave myself oh so gracefully out of bed and stumbling headlong into the bathroom. Bad nights are like these, where sleep seems like some sort of elusive commodity and the low lying pressure in my belly feels like a gathering storm.

And for every well meaning person who sees me these days and kindly advises me to "sleep while I can" because after the baby comes I won't get any sleep at all, I have to refrain from spitting in their faces. Sleep now? When? How? This isn't sleep or insomnia. This is waking, walking wretchedness. At least when he's born I can begin to blame him and start keeping score of all the nights he's kept me awake so I can repress him with guilt well into his adulthood. For now, it seems ridiculous to blame insomnia on someone I have yet to meet. But someday, Owen, there'll be a reckoning for this. I hope you like wedgies.

Happy Birthday Ken!

In ode to our former housemate Ken, whose birthday is today, I've posted some of his favorite recipes in the Kitchenry section. George and I are big fans of home cooking and Ken got his fill when he resided under our roof. We started the kitchenry section this year to highlight some of our favorite recipes. George had become the official chef in the house and his talent and passion for cooking has really developed over the last couple years. Every week, George and I try something new and my cookbook is growing by volumes. We'll share some of the best successes with you as well as some old time favorites and traditional recipes. Try the recipes we've featured and let us know what you think. Just don't count on seeing the famous wing sauce recipe or the coveted family recipe for pie crust. For a taste of that, you'll have to come visit.
Enjoy, Ken!