will wonders never cease...

The sight this morning:



Pretty funny considering that Neko completely pretended that Henry did not exist for the first eight weeks of his life. She also refused to eat the week we returned home as a family of three instead of two. We thought something was wrong with her tooth, so Korwin took her to the vet. Nope, she was fine. She was just pouting.

This morning, she jumped up on our bed, sniffed his ear and head, and promptly plopped down next to him.

being thankful

For the past eight Thanksgivings, we have observed a family tradition of going around the table and sharing thankfulness from the past year. Each person talks for a little while, and everyone else listens. It is a simple and precious tradition, and it gives me a chance to reflect on the things that I realize I sometimes feel entitled to.

So, this year, I say thanks for:

~a partner who respects me and continues to show me that he loves me;
~Henry, who has changed my life in beautiful ways already;
~the wonderful rollercoaster that is pregnancy and motherhood;
~a few important experiences that have taught me that change is both good and possible;
~my grandmother, who was a strong woman and who was not afraid to die;
~the love of good friends who function as extended family, in that they have demonstrated their permanence in my life; and
~the continued blessing, providence, and renewal that God provides to me as I continue to acknowledge, love, and respect Him.

Note to Retail Employees

In this edition of "things not to say to women who have recently had babies:"

Yesterday I was in a store that sells baby clothes. The woman at the register asked: "Are these for your baby?" with one of those big, overly sweet smiles.

"Yes, they are." Henry was in the stroller, about ten feet away, being wheeled around by a friend who is a few years younger than my mom. We had walked in together a couple of minutes earlier.

She looked at my stomach; no, she studied my stomach. "So...are you pregnant? Or...."

"No," I said, "My baby is six weeks old."

"Oh!!" she exclaimed. Profuse compliments on each of my purchases followed. "Wow, these shirts are sooooooooo cute. You really picked out fabulous stuff!"

I wonder if, when you work in a childrens' store, it might be better just to assume that the customers are not pregnant. I really did feel skinny, right up until that moment.

Rise and Shine

I have never been a morning person, especially not in November, when the rain pounds the windows and the wind howls and it's way too dark to arise at 6:30 or 7:00.

But now, this is what greets me first thing in the morning.

My Boys

Sigh...

Sleep

Before I became a mother, I was worried that I'd be one of those people who would roll over in bed and smother their baby. I was worried that I wouldn't wake up when my baby cried, that I wouldn't even hear him. I have slept through epic thunderstorms and gunshots and hurricane-force winds. But other mothers reassured me: no, you'll definitely wake up. You'll hear him. Your innate maternal sensitivity to your baby's cry will kick in.

Here is the nightly scene at my house:

Henry (tossing and turning): Waaaaaaaaah.

Korwin (wakes up instantly): Kelly, Henry seems like he is hungry.

Me (still dreaming about french toast): Who?

Korwin (exasperated): You know, Henry! Our baby.

Me (rubbing my eyes now): Oh, you think she is hungry?

Korwin (disbelief): Kelly, Henry is a boy.

Me (big yawn): Oh, right. A boy. Okay, well, sure then.

I actually woke up a few nights ago and realized that I thought I was nursing Henry but instead, he was just pressed up against my chest with his pacifier in his mouth right where the nipple should be. I couldn't figure out why he was crying.

I guess being a parent doesn't exactly catapult you into the 'light sleeper' category.

Henry Korwin Smith

I am a mother. I have a son. Today, he is five weeks and two days old.

New

"The key to change...is to let go of fear." ~Roseanne Cash

blog, blog, blog

See, one of the inherent problems with blogging, well, never, is that a lot of "potential" blog entries get lodged in my brain. So when I actually resolve to write a post, I can't decide what to write about. A little ridiculous.

Anyway, here in Columbia City, Seattle, we have had one group of treat-seeking kids today. So I've got a little couch time. And I'm staring at the pumpkins. I can't get enough of this fantastic homemade applesauce I've been scarfing down all day.

Which reminds me...if you ever need the perfect treat for having people over, or just for spicing up a meal, this is my absolute favorite fall treat, compliments of Ina Garten, the author of Barefoot Contessa cookbooks.

First, you make some applesauce. Pretty basic - equal parts sweet red and tart green apples. 6 or 8 of each. Peel, quarter, and core the apples. Zest and juice a couple of oranges and a lemon, and toss the apples with them. Stick the apples in a pot that can go in your oven, and add some brown sugar, a stick of butter, a couple of teaspoons of cinnamon, and a little allspice. Bake it for 1.5 hours at 350, until all the apples are soft. Mix it all up with a whisk until it's nice and smooth.

Now, the brilliant part. While your applesauce is baking, take a bunch of those baby pumpkins - one for each person at the table. I use little sugar pumpkins, but you can even use the decorative ones. Cut off and reserve the tops, scoop out the seeds, and sprinkle the insides with salt and pepper. Once the applesauce is done, stick the pumpkins on a baking sheet, fill each one with applesauce, put the tops back on, and roast at 350 for 50 minutes, or until the pumpkins are tender but not mushy.

The pumpkin/applesauce combination is amazing, and you look really cool. Win-win.

too many stories to tell: pictures from the last few months

reappearing from the abyss

I have been entirely absent from the blogosphere for the last ten months.

Here is to a fresh start!