Jack-o-lanterns--what a fright!

I have been reminded again this year that Halloween really is a children's holiday, and for the first time we've had a child old enough to enjoy the festivities! When Clara woke up yesterday morning I told her it was Halloween, and she immediately said, "Treat! Scaaaaary..." We figured out she learned that Halloween was scary from watching "Super Why," so I guess that show teaches more than the alphabet. Oh well.



When we speed-carved the pumpkin just before dinner (it's been a crazy week) Clara refused to dig in and touch the pumpkin--not because she thought it was slimy or anything, but because she thought it was a cave. And that a bear lived in there. (She has a vivid imagination.) So that's what she's talking about in this video.



She loved trick-or-treating, and she was a hot hit in her chicken costume. My sister Megan is in town, and she did a way better job dressing up as a farmer to complement my two little farm animals. I did a last-minute, half-hearted effort. I am a cool mom like that.






My cousin and her family came with us to trick-or-treat in our neighborhood. It's been a long, long time since I've been trick-or-treating (like quite possibly 16 years or so), and I had a blast. It would've been even more fun if Clara hadn't decided she needed to be carried home at the halfway point. But I am tough, and I made it. Jeremy had no idea how good the staying-at-home-and-passing-out-candy gig would be. Happy Halloween!

The Return of the Empire Strikes Back

We ventured downtown on Saturday for the last farmers' market of the season. Several of Clara's farmer fans were on hand to bid her farewell, although our favorite cherry farmer was sadly a no-show. But despite any small disappointments, I managed to score the best find of the year: a local apple farmer selling the world's best apple: the Empire.

My good friends in Syracuse (holla!) will back me on this (with the possible exception of Jana), but the empire apple is honestly the most delicious apple I have ever tasted. I'm no food writer, so I can't describe the exact bouquet of the fruit, but perhaps this will help you to understand: when we found out we'd be leaving Syracuse, I ate an empire nearly everyday for a month as I prepared to bid them farewell. Or so I thought. I've eaten all but one of the empires we bought on Saturday, and now I'm planning a little trip into eastern Washington to get some more. My most profound gratitude goes out to the enterprising local apple growers who had the foresight--and the sheer horse sense--to bring the empire west.

A little Monday miscellany

Here's a picture of Jonathan at seven weeks. Clara had a fit about his little coveralls, since she couldn't understand why Jonathan got to wear awesome airplane clothes and she didn't. She ripped the outfit from me before while I was putting on his shirt and tried to stuff her leg into it. "Care-la pay-planes! Care-la pay-planes!" I think little girl clothes have a lot going for them, but it is true that airplanes rarely make an appearance. Poor Care-la.


And here's a picture of how Clara spent the first 30 minutes after breakfast: standing up, watching Sid, the Science Kid on PBS, and holding this "cuppin." I tried to get her to sit down and relax, but she was very content to stand up with her pumpkin. Whatever. As I often say, she is her own woman. And she loves her cuppins.

Autumn walk

My new thing, when the weather is fine and I don't have too much to tote, is to park a mile or so away from where I'm going and hoof it the rest of the way. Today's walk took us along the lake shore, around a wee mountain, and to the public library. The weather was my autumn ideal: in the high 50s and mostly cloudy (sunless days are only truly objectionable during the winter).

Days like this--walks like this--make me love living in north Idaho. The fall colors here are stunning--made even more so by the blanket of evergreens. I could smell the home fires burning, which charmed me to no end, and I was out breathing clean mountain air with my dear offspring. A day of days.

(By the way, if you're wondering about Clara's hair, then you obviously haven't heard that feral is the "it" look for fall. And if you're wondering about her smile...there are no words...)

They grow up so fast...

Jonathan shocked us this weekend by smiling at my mom...multiple times! I have a poor memory for things like milestones, so I wasn't really expecting for Jonathan to do anything much quite yet. But look at him now! This picture isn't the best, but since his smiles are elusive and fleeting, it'll have to do.

Jonathan's blessing

Sunday was Jonathan's baby blessing, and both sets of grandparents were in town for the occasion. Jeremy gave Jonathan a wonderful blessing--sweet and tender, and a beautiful reminder of Heavenly Father's perfect love for all of his children.


Clara was particularly thrilled about having so many grandparents around. She spent much of the weekend in a frenzy as she ran back and forth to everyone offering hugs and hellos.



One highlight of the weekend was going out to lunch with my parents yesterday afternoon. Jonathan slept the whole time, and Clara was as well behaved as I could've hoped for. So fun, so relaxing. We got to do lots of coloring on the table covering, and Clara was even able to make her own little pizza. Well, I ended up making it, but she was pretty pumped about the little plate of cheese, olives, ham, and pineapple. While I hurried to finish making her pizza, she spent her time trying to get as many of the toppings into her mouth as possible.


And now we're back to just us four again, although we're counting down the days until Aunt Megan comes for a much-anticipated weekend visit...

Stimulating lunchtime conversation

I am doing a quick email check here at the kitchen table while Clara eats her gardenburger for lunch. We are having a great conversation. It's going something like this:

Clara: "Daddy's a man."

Mom: "Yes, Daddy's a man."

"Mommy's a woman."

"Yes, Mommy's a woman."

"Daddy's a woman?"

"No, Daddy's a man."

"Daddy's a man."

"Yes, Daddy's a man."

"Mommy's a lady."

"Yes, Mommy's a lady."

"Mommy's a man?"

"No, Mommy's a woman."

"Mommy's a woman."

That's the truncated version, but I hope you can get a good sense of how well I'm doing at teaching Clara the art of conversation.

Rudy Maxa

My new favorite show is one I recently discovered on one of our PBS channels: "Rudy Maxa's World." Not only is it on at the best possible time (11:30 a.m.--just when Clara goes for a nap and Jonathan usually wants to eat) but it also makes just about everywhere in the world look like paradise. Plus, he kind of looks like my dad...if my dad were the kind of guy who traveled around the world wearing business casual and frequenting international discotheques. So far, this show has made me desparate to travel to Buenos Aires, Bangkok, Dehli, Mexico City, Estonia, St. Petersburg, and Kyoto. Ahhh, Kyoto...

One month...done

I'm sure all new parents feel this way, but we are stunned that Jonathan is already a month old. Whether we're stunned because it feels much longer or much shorter than that is a question even we can't answer.


Jonathan continues to be a delightful baby. He still wants to eat way too often at night, and he has a bit of a head cold (thanks, Clara), but all things considered he is not giving us too hard a time. Milestones in the past week include his first (and second) tub bath. Milestones in the week to come include his first outing to church and his first trip to a u-pick farm. Life is good.


Clara just loves her baby brother. Jeremy and I barely exist for her other than as a means to be with Jonathan. When she hears him crying, she says, "Mommy get it. Dada get it. Jon-than sad. Mommy milkies." The point of her bossiness, of course, is that Jonathan is sad and needs to eat, so someone better go and pick him up. When we ask Clara who her best friend is, the instant answer is always "Jon-than." (It used to be Mommy. Oh well.) Milestones for Clara in the last week include the acquisition of a monkey "pa-pack" (yes, with a leash) and her first on-camera tantrum.

Back to the past

An update, for those who may be interested: I am feeling much better today, 76 hours after the initial loss of faculty. I can now walk quite well, and with almost no pain, and I am also able to pick up Jonathan again. My main issue is now with hinging at the waist, but even that is feeling a bit better. My body is a recovery machine, I guess.

I also did 10 crunches today to start strengthening my core. Jeremy met this news with a frown, saying I need to be careful not to overdo it.

I said, "I only did 10!"

He said, "How many crunches have you done in the past 12 months?"

I said, "Including the 10 I did today?"

You get the idea. So I am still committed to a slow and careful recovery, and tomorrow will probably just do 5 crunches.

When Jeremy and I get stressed we typically try to divorce ourselves from the present by either reminiscing about the past or obsessing about the future. Since I didn't feel much like future-dreaming today, I thought I'd explore what our lives were like one year ago. So here it is. One year ago, we:

-were living in Syracuse;
-had one baby who was just learning to crawl and pull herself to a standing position;
-were enjoying the onset of autumn and many trips to the Beak and Skiff Apple Farm;
-had no idea we'd be living in north Idaho in a year;
-had no idea we'd have another baby in a year;
-had no idea that Rachel would have a broken back in a year.

The more I thought about this time last year, the more idyllic it seemed. Jeremy pointed out that life wasn't totally rosy last September/October, since he was fully entrenched in a stressful bishopric calling and I was teaching two writing classes at the community college and he was finishing up several stressful grant applications and we were just adjusting to Clara's four food allergies... But looking back it just seems so nice. In my mind, we just sat around looking at Clara's cute face and feeling nothing but happy and relaxed. His version of events is probably closer to reality.

Hunchback

Yesterday morning I carried Clara to her room to change her diaper. I lowered her to the floor, felt a sharp, intense pain radiate from my lower back through my legs, and found myself paralyzed on my hands and knees. That's right, friends: I threw my back out.

I have had back problems for quite a long time, stemming from a bulged disc and degenerative disc disease, but for several years everything has felt under control. Now I am totally hobbled, barely able to pick up the nine pounds of love that is Jonathan, let alone even attempt to lift the 25-pound ball of energy that is Clara. What gives? The doctor yesterday compared my body to a skyscraper. He said a skyscraper needs four walls of reinforced steel to stand safely and securely. He said that after a pregnancy and a c-section (make that three pregnancies and three c-sections), my body is more like a skyscraper with one steel side and three sides made of cheap plywood. I am more inclined to say three sides of flimsy rubber. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

So there you have it. The doctor is sure my problem is with my bum disc, but since I don't have any neurological symptoms (numbness, tingling, weakness in the legs, etc.) I just have to grin and bear it. I can walk much better today than I could yesterday, but I have pretty intense pain when I stand up, sit down, scooch over, or otherwise move. If I'm not markedly improved by Monday I'll do a round of physical therapy, which is always humbling.

Thanks to the good friends who have been coerced into watching Clara for a few hours this week to give Jeremy time to get some work done. And a big shout-out to Jeremy, who has taken upon himself all household duties, diaper changing, child lifting, and--most importantly--Clara wrangling. He's a good sport. Who needs a day job?

Here's to a speedy recovery! I am doing my duty by icing my back like ice is going out of style. And when I feel better, my doctor suggested doing crunches like crunches are going out of style. I've always wanted washboard abs...

Wakeful sleep

Now that we've successfully muddled through three full weeks since bringing Jonathan home from the hospital, I'm starting to feel deeply entrenched in that "dazed and confused" stage that accompanies chronic sleep deprivation. As I mentioned previously, Jonathan is a pretty good sport about going to sleep after his middle-of-the-night feeding sessions, but he still gets up to eat every 3-4 hours. It takes an hour to feed him, more or less, so at most I'm sleeping three hours at a time, and I usually total about six hours of sleep. This is most distressing for a sleep lover like myself who is biologically programmed to need nine hours.

Once I finish feeding Jonathan, Jeremy gets up to burp him and rock him to sleep. Jeremy prefers that I wake him on the half hour so he has a better chance of seeing an entire show on late-night PBS. We recently started getting PBS's digital over-the-air programming, which means we have five PBS channels from which to choose. I tease Jeremy because Jonathan is usually burped and asleep within 10 or 15 minutes, but Jeremy usually doesn't come back to bed for at least a full half hour. Yesterday at around 5:00 a.m. I asked Jeremy if Jonathan had been difficult to get to sleep after his 2:00 a.m. feeding, since it took Jeremy longer than usual to come back to bed. He said that Jonathan was asleep relatively quickly, but that PBS had been airing a segment of the "Garden Story" series, which, as a student of urban environments, scratched Jeremy right where he itched. When I laughed at him for sacrificing sleep for PBS, he just reiterated the keen watchability of "Garden Story" and said, "Rach, I had to be there."