Texas and Breastmilk

In case you were wondering, it is legal to carry breastmilk on a plane, even if it's not in your checked luggage, even if you have it in quantities over 3oz, even if you don't have your baby with you. Know how I know? I went to Texas yesterday, for the day (yes... for the day... needless to say I'm exhausted) and there was much ado about breastmilk.

Apparently the rule used to be that parents flying with children would be exempt from the TSA's 311 rule for travelling with liquids, so that they could carry enough formula or food for the flight and potential delays. But last week, I read that the rule had been updated in August, so that moms could also carry breastmilk (which now counts as medication), even if you're not with your baby. Which makes more sense, really... if I had my baby with me, I would nurse my baby, and wouldn't have as much need to carry milk around, right?

So the people in DFW didn't get the memo. About 20 minutes before arriving at the airport, I was successful in getting my flight changed to an earlier one (so ready to get home!) but I was cutting it very close to make the flight. When I got hung up at security with the bottles of breastmilk, I didn't much care - I was fine with dumping it (fortunately I have a freezer full at home, and only brought the pump for my own comfort - though I wasn't going to throw the milk away if I didn't have to, right?) and running for the plane, but apparently that wasn't kosher. So even when I told them to dump it and give me the bottles back, they said they couldn't.... so I was detained in security while we hemmed and hawed and talked to supervisors... and eventually someone decided I was right (duh) and they let me go on my merry way.

Which wasn't so merry, since I missed my flight.

My advice to future nursing-mom-without-baby-in-tow travellers? Print the TSA info from their website before you travel. And remember to take it off your printer tray and actually bring it with you.

And rejoice in the huge grin when you see your little one again.

Four Things Meme

I'm still in a memeing mood, so here's another.

Four jobs I've had in my life:
lifeguard/swim teacher
one of Furman's music department minions
cashier (or whatever else needed doing) at Old Navy
non-profit travel consultant (I arrange mission trips, disaster relief trips, etc.)

Four movies I've watched more than once:
When Harry Met Sally
The Sound of Music
Bring it On (was that once, or four thousand times?)
Tarzan (the Disney version)

Four places I've lived:
the Carolinas (home sweet home!)
Germany
the Netherlands
Texas (only as a baby)

Four TV shows I watch:
Smallville
Amazing Race
Ugly Betty
Gilmore Girls

Four places I have been:
Luxembourg
China
South Africa
St Croix

Four places I would like to visit:
Brazil
India
Australia
Canada

Four people who email me regularly:
Mom
Karl
Lois
Sarah O

Four of my favorite foods:
mexican (yes, I know that's not a specific food)
chocolate
sweet tea (is there any other kind?)
red wine

Four things I am looking forward to this year:
Nick's wedding and a family reunion with Mark's Euro-relatives
my first mother's day
seeing my 54-year old mother finish an Ironman triathlon
vacation in New York City!!!
(isn't all this listed to the right already?)

Four people I am tagging to make their own lists:
Ryan
Liz
Merritt
Kelley
(but only if they want to)

Hubby Meme

No one tagged me to do this, but I saw it and liked the idea (enough to add some of my own questions, too!).... I think Mark deserves some words on the blog, since it's easy to get so focused on the baby, the puppies, work, our extracurricular stuff, and running a house that I lose focus of the fact that I really do have a great husband. Today hopes to be a quick band-aid to that situation... at least some sort of temporary fix.
Where did you meet? One time, at band camp, I met a boy who would eventually be the man who wanted to marry me. Once again, I wish I were kidding. (Well, not really, actually.) You can't make this stuff up.
How long did you date? Um, forever? Let me see, 3 1/2 years before we got engaged, then 2 1/2 before the wedding. So... 6 years. Wow.
How old is he? 27. which is 28 days younger than I am.
Who eats more? Um, me, hala. Have you seen my hips? Mark's figure is way better than mine, and I assure you it doesn't stay that way from pigging out.
Who said “I love you” first? You know, I don't remember who said it first, although I do remember the conversation. I'm pretty sure it was me, though. I mean, I'm "foolishly sentimental," as Dr. Radel would say. Which basically means I'm a sap. Which could be more positively described as emotionally available. Yes, let's go with that.
Who is taller? He is. And I think that's the first question in this meme that's really about him. Maybe the second. Hmmm. This is not exactly going as planned.
Who sings better? Me. But I'm sure Jesus loves Mark's singing even if no one else does, so I always encourage him to make a joyful noise anyway! (He says it's not joyful, but those are his words, not mine.) Although overall, his musical talents trump mine, for sure. His voice box just isn't his best instrument.
Who is smarter? Definitely him. I don't personally know anyone smarter than Mark. But he manages to be hardly geeky at all. His cool factor, especially when you take his IQ, our band dork history, and his and engineering career into account, is actually really impressive.
Whose temper is worse? hands down, me. what was that about being overly emotional? plus he's ridiculously patient. (Painfully patient at times.) I don't know how he does it. I can't think of anyone less likely to fly off the handle, actually... unless there's a bad call at a football game that hurts his Tigers!
Who does the laundry? It used to always be me. But now that I hardly get dressed anymore (score 1: working from home), he usually gets sick of it before I do, and at least starts it.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? from which angle? he's on my right if we're on our backs, in the bed. And by on my right, I mean hunched over in the corner fighting for space between my large hips and our two canine children. Man, he's a saint.
Who pays the bills? Mark, thank goodness. He does such an awesome job of keeping track of all our accounts and investments and bills.
Who cooks dinner? Usually me, although Mark is a pro at whipping out a great meal. If you have 10 hours, that is. He needs just the right spatula, don't you know. And that can take a while to find.
Who drives when you are together? Him. I don't love his driving, and he doesn't love mine, but somehow this is one of those disagreements where he gets his way. To be fair, I think my driving is less tolerable to him than vice versa. Also, we have a really great agreement about the temperature and radio choices while travelling in the car. When he drives, I control the music and temp. And when I drive, I also control the music and temp. Let me tell you, this works perfectly.
Who is more stubborn? that's a tough one. when Mark really wants his way, he will get his way. but he's usually willing to compromise. still, I'm going to have to say Mark.
Who kissed whom first? He kissed me. Without any hesitation. Just went for it.
Who is the first to admit to being wrong? Probably him, but only since I'm more likely to call him out sooner. I'm happy to admit when I'm wrong, too... it does happen a lot, living with a genius husband and all.
Whose parents do you see the most? Mine, although I'm not sure why.
Who proposed? He did. With breakfast in bed.
What's his best physical attribute? Legs. mmm, definitely legs. God bless his childhood of tennis. Is it wrong to post a picture? I think probably.
Who has more friends? I'm certainly more social than Mark, and probably have more aquaintances and relationships outside the family. But we both have great sets of true friends as well.
What are you most proud of him for? Right now, I'd have to say for finishing up his masters degree while juggling a new baby. But that's just today - I'm sure tomorrow will be something else!
Who has more siblings? Me - 1 sister, 1 brother, 2 stepbrothers. (Mark has 1 brother, 1 stepbrother and 1 stepsister.)
Who wears the pants in the family? Him. Hard to believe, I'm sure. I am, after all, pretty much the bossiest person I know. And while Mark definitely lets me have my way on the everyday decisions, make no mistake: it's him letting me have my way. When it comes to the major life moves, he has the final say-so, but I completely trust him to make decisions in the best interest of our family. So it works.

Ok, Merritt, Mary & Kelley - let's hear about your hubbies!

This Post is Brought to You By the Letter N

You'll find that aside from one picture, this post actually has very little (read: nothing) to do with the letter N. Hope you're not too bummed.

A few various updates:

1.) One of my college roomies, Kristy, was here this week. I'm almost over the fact that she once thought it would be a good idea to play 'Climb Ev'ry Mountain' first thing in the morning so I could hear a more pleasant sound upon awakening than the beep of an alarm clock. (Are you now singing along with the Mother Abbess in your head? ...you're welcome.) So we had a fun few days. Kristy's way too humble to make a big deal out of what's been going on with her (like her medical missions to Africa, her bone marrow donation, or, you know, her M.D.) but I want to just say for the record that she's become a pretty amazing woman. We've all got our demons to battle, and she handles what life throws at her with the poise and grace we expect, along with a blend of humor, crazy and love.

2.) Here's one of Nathan's 8-month pictures, taken several weeks ago. He was very into this block during the entire session. Apparently I need to buy blocks. :)

3.) My dad just got back from visiting my brother in St Croix, and Mark is at the beach this weekend for his brother's bachelor party. I am green with seashore envy and desperately trying to find a way to combine our upcoming swim in Charleston with a few days of beachy vacation. Anyone have a place they want to rent to us for a couple of days?

4.) This family in India (friends of friends) is attempting to potty-train their daughter before she's 1 (she's 5 months now). Apparently, that's normal where they live. You have got to read this post - the story and pictures made me laugh out loud, which I don't do all that often at the computer anymore, since sudden noises are verboten when the babe is sleeping.

5.) Another blog worth mentioning (shared by Kristy) is called Stuff Christians Like. If you have ever found humor in the goings-on of your church family, you need to read this. (If you think it's horrid to laugh at ourselves about the things we do with and for our churches, please don't click that link.) These posts are so funny and so true (if not at your own church, then surely at a church you know... most of them bring back memories of my life as a church youth). I haven't read all of them yet, but my favorites so far are Watching Jon & Kate Plus 8, Lock-Ins, Youth Sunday, the pray-if-you-feel-led prayer, breaking up after a retreat, the bait-and-switch, and refusing to make songs you can slow dance to. If you only click on one of these bajillions of links, please make it this impossibly cute video about child-like faith (part of the post on pimping your kids from the pulpit).

6.) I realized recently that Nathan will (probably, depending on what the state of North Carolina ever decides about the right age to start school) graduate from high school in 2025. Doesn't that seem futuristic or something? I can't decide whether it makes me feel young or old.

7.) Earth Shattering News. Today, Nathan fed himself a banana from a mesh feeder. At first, I groaned at the introduction of what will surely be a messy toddlerhood. But then I realized that for the first time in almost 9 months (well, 18 if you count the pregnancy... and I do), my son has received nourishment by himself. Meaning without the help of my breasts, hands, placenta, or any other body part (except when I put the food in the feeder for him, duh). Meaning I could get something else taken care of while he had his feeding needs met. (Although of course I didn't actually get much done, since I was so excited I busted out the camera to make a video, and then promptly called my mom to tell her about it.) It might not look like much here as words in a blog post, but I assure you that my world feels sort of upside-down. I'd like to stop and thank God for giving such wisdom to the person who invented this feeder mesh thing. Somewhere on the spectrum between nursing and finger foods, it looks like I will have 5 minutes to unload groceries. And for that I am truly ecstatic.

Nathan and the Dirty Floor

So I realized it's been a while (like, 7 posts or something) since I have updated about Nathan. And while some of you out there might be reading for my witty social commentary (ha. not.), or for the gritty details of my leg hair, I know there are other lurkers (ahem... grandparents. lois. kristy. yes, I just called you out) who are reading this because you can't get enough of my kid.

(I really like him, too!)

So I'm sharing a video of one of his recent accomplishments. I love, love that he kicks his feet when he's happy. It's pretty much the cutest thing ever. And it totally gives him away, like a wagging tail on a dog. He wears his emotions on his legs, you might say. :)

The good news is he's rolling in both directions, often -- sometimes on a trajectory (is that the right word? what I mean to say is that he's Rolling With a Purpose, to get somewhere... usually to his favorite bookshelf full of office supplies.... note to self: time to start babyproofing). The bad news is I have realized this week that my floors are way less clean than I originally thought. When I pick him up to hug him and tell him how proud I am for his rolling accomplishments (positive discipline would say I need to comment on how proud he must be of himself, actually... maybe I should work on that), he's covered in crud. Lint. Hair. Dirt. Sticky pollen residue. Dead bugs. (Kidding about that last one.) (I hope.)

It turns out our floors are really dirty. I mean, I sweep pretty much every day in the main areas of the house (it's spring and we have two dogs... you just can't ignore it), but in our few carpeted rooms, I must confess that I am the laziest housekeeper ever. (I had to ask Mark where we keep the vacuum the other day. Seriously. And we still ended up borrowing the neighbors' since they have a pet-hair-dyson-something-or-other.)

But now that Daddy has done a good thorough vacuuming, Nathan is significantly less grody after rolling around on the floor. But still not totally clean. I think I just need to come to grips with the fact that my children will never be sparkling clean on an everyday basis. I love my dogs, and they come with hair and slobber. And I've decided I'm fine with that.

Also, Nathan is sitting much better, and for longer periods of time. If you're not sick of watching videos, you can see that here.

The Capital of NC is...?

My aunt sent me an email with some comments that Jeff Foxworthy made about how to know if you're a North Carolinian. Is he even from here? Is he allowed to make fun of us?

Anyway, the one that jumped out at me is: If you know for sure that Charlotte is not really the capital, you may live in North Carolina. Are we really one of those states for which people in the rest of the country can't name the capital? Really? I mean, I know of other states where the capital seems obvious but isn't... New York (not NYC), Washington (not Seattle), Illinois (not Chicago), etc. But I really didn't know that North Carolina (not Charlotte) would go on that list as well. I find it sort of amusing. Does the rest of the world think that Myrtle Beach is the capital of South Carolina?

Other funny-because-they're-so-true statements about the North Kacklack:
If you are "fixin" to go anywhere or do anything, you may live in NC.
If you install security alarms on your house and garage, but leave both unlocked, you may live in NC.
If you find 60 degrees 'a little chilly' you may live in NC.
If you take time off work to watch basketball in March, you may live in NC.
If you can name two or more hurricanes you've lived through (with pride), you may live in NC.

In case you're wondering, I lived through Hugo and Charley and probably others that I can't remember right now. And the state capital is right here in Raleigh.

And More Recipes...

Kelley's post yesterday made me remember that I have been trying lots of new recipes this year (yep, still once a week), but that I haven't been posting the good ones. Some of them... not so much worth sharing. But there are a couple that have been great!

The pasta bake is a quick (!) casserole - this is a Rachael Ray idea, with some very minor Mark-and-Erin tweaking. We brought it to Jenny and Dan when their daughter was born, and it was a hit. The squash is a good summer side dish for a day when you just don't feel like grilling - and it reheats really well.

And if you want a couple of our all-time favorite side-dishes, follow the links for microwave cheese grits (try it with pepper jack!) and Mark's favorite mac & cheese.

Bacon, Leek, Tomato Pasta Bake
1 lb pasta
8 slices bacon, coarsely chopped
1 large leek
3 tbs butter
3 tbs flour
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp paprika
3 cups milk
1 cup chicken stock
3 1/2 cups shredded swiss cheese
1 tbs dijon mustard
1 can diced tomatoes
salt & pepper

Preheat broiler. Cook pasta according to package directions. While it's cooking, heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add the bacon and cook until crisp. While the bacon is cooking, slice the leeks (if you've never done this before, click here). Add drained and dry leeks to bacon pan. Season with salt & pepper. Cook until tender (3-4 minutes).

For the sauce, heat a medium sauce pot over medium heat. Add the butter and melt, then add flour, cayenne, and paprika and whisk together until the roux bubbles; cook for 1 minute longer. Whisk in the milk and stock and raise the heat a little. Bring the sauce to a quick boil and simmer to thicken (about 5 min). Remove from heat and stir in 3 cups of cheese and the mustard; set aside.

Add tomatoes to the leek mixture and cook for 2 minutes. Remove from heat; set aside.

Drain pasta and combine into casserole dish with cheese sauce and leek mixture. (Note: Mark and I found that you can stop at this step, let half the recipe cool, and then freeze it for later, and it works great.) Sprinkle remaining cheese on top and broil until melted.


Squash Casserole
3 lbs yellow squash, sliced
5 tbs butter or margarine
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
1 cup shredded cheddar
2 large eggs, beaten
1/4 cup lite mayo
2 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
20 ritz crackers

Cover squash in water in a large skillet, and boil for 8-10 minutes. Drain well (dry between towels).

Melt 4 tbs butter in the skillet; add onion and cook 5 minutes. Remove from heat, and stir in squash, cheese, and next 4 ingredients. Spoon into a lightly greased baking dish. Melt remaining butter and combine with crackers. Sprinkle over casserole. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. This is pretty easy to "lighten up" with less butter, egg beaters, and low-fat versions of the other stuff.

In Defense of Leg Hair

In case you didn't already know (and you probably do; I'm not one to mince words, even about body hair), I don't really shave my legs. Ever. I mean, for vacation once or twice a year, maybe. But it's definitely not a regular thing.... I finished a can of shave gel before we went to China last February (yes, that's Feb of 2007), and I distinctly remember moving with that same can into this house in 2004. And into the apartment we lived in before that in 2003. (Note to self: spend more energy getting rid of expired bath products and less energy defending the no-shaving thing.)

I had big plans to shave before Nathan's delivery last summer, but that never did happen (yes, even though he came late). Which just shows that even when people are up close and personal with my pores, I just don't care that much if there are hairs poking out of them. But it's come to my attention recently that my lack of shaving really is abnormal. And maybe gross.

First, emu made it clear that for a normal woman, going without shaving her legs for 2 months is the at the upper extreme of what's tolerable. Apparently most women won't even do that. Also, that no husbands should have to deal with hairy legs. (I think after she pushes out her first baby, she'll care less about husbands having posh, smooth lives and come to realize that they still have it pretty good even if their wives are gross and hairy.)

Then, on ANTM last week, Fatima took a lot of criticism for not having smooth armpits in her photo shoot. The main reason the judges gave for their criticism was that retouching and photoshopping is expensive. (Yes, clearly it's pricing itself out of business. Hardly anything is retouched anymore, since models are that smooth and perfect in reality. HA!) I mean, it wasn't a razor commercial. I'm not sure what the big deal was, if that was her choice and they hadn't given her any specific instruction beforehand.

Also, I found out that my sister -- and she's not the only one -- shaves her big toe on occasion. (Hopefully she's not mad that I put that fact on the internet. She's even less shy and modest than I am, so I doubt it.) But really. Toes, too? Does society really expect that? Apparently so.

Then this morning when I was walking at Lake Johnson, my friend (also named Erin) mentioned that if we take the kids swimming next week, she needs at least a 24-hour heads up so she can remember to shave. Apparently it's been a week and she's not at peace about that. Even though the only people who see her legs will be me (who am I to judge? I applaud leg hair) and two infants. Both of whom recently came into this world in a gross enough way to make leg hair look positively yummy.

Now, lest you decide once and for all that I am the grossest human you know, I should point a few things out that will maybe change your mind. First - since I have been a swimmer for most of my life, I never got into the habit of regular shaving, so you can stop picturing manly curls or hard stubble on my legs. It's not like that. It's actually pretty much invisible, and I'm betting Mark can vouch for that fact. (He's lurking out there somewhere.) Second - I was never that hairy to begin with, so even without shaving, you have to look pretty close to see that I have hair on my legs. It's actually less than most people's arm hair. (My arms, you ask? they never recovered from the one time I shaved them, so they're still pretty much bald.) Third - about the husband argument... it doesn't really bug Mark that much. I mean, he's not like, proud or anything... but let's face it: in the grander scheme of things, he probably has much bigger complaints about me. Fourth - unlike Fatima, I definitely do shave under my arms, even if I can't be bothered with my legs.

I think I would be less defensive about my choice not to shave, if I truly believed that other women's choices to shave were for their own pleasure and comfort (or even their husbands', if it was important to them -- I could get on board with that), and not just because that's the norm expected by society.

So. I'll not remain on a pedestal about the situation, and I definitely won't get all women's lib and feminist burn-your-bra about it. Ick. But if you don't feel like shaving, and the hair won't bother you, just don't do it. I assure you it's not the worst thing in the world.

24 Hours of Booty

Obviously this is not a post about porn. This is a post about working out, in the least sexual way possible. Duh, couldn't you tell from the title?

So there's this route in downtown Charlotte called the Booty Loop (please don't ask me why; I don't know and I assume I don't want to) where people like to go running. And for the past few years, Livestrong (the Lance Armstrong foundation) has sponsored an event where cyclists ride bikes for twenty-four hours to raise money for cancer charities. The event is called 24 Hours of Booty.

I'm sure you know where this is going. My mom (yes, this same mom who did a half-ironman shortly after becoming a grandmother, and who is currently training for a full ironman this fall) has joined up with her trainer to form a team of riders for the event. They both lost their moms to cancer, so they want to put some of their exercise and training efforts (which they're definitely crazy enough to do anyway!) to a good cause.

I don't think either of them plans to ride for 24 hours without stopping. I'm pretty sure that's not even possible. (My butt hurts just thinking about it.) I mean, you have to at least eat and pee, right? And falling asleep on a bike doesn't seem safe, somehow. But they're getting a team together to cover the full 24 hours. If you can cycle (even poorly), they'd love to have you. If you don't cycle, then they'd love any fundraising gift you can contribute. You can contribute to mom, or my sister Ashley, or just the general team goal. So far, it looks like Nathan -- who has made a gift for his birthday, since he won't be able to cycle -- is their biggest contributor. That means they need help!

If you want more info on the event, watch the video here.

Christus Paradox and Hot Cross Buns

I'm not proud of this fact, but I must admit that when our choir prepares anthems and praise songs week after week after week, it's easy for me to fall into a bad habit of just learning the notes and churning out the music for Sundays. But we've been working on Christus Paradox again, and this is one of those that gets me right in the gut.... every time I sing it. In a service, in rehearsal, humming it my head, doesn't matter -- I can't not be affected by this anthem.

The text (by Sylvia Dunstan) wasn't originally intended for it, but Alfred Fedak set the words to the tune PICARDY (that's "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence," for those who don't follow hymntune names)... and it's pure genius.

The text of this music is about the many paradoxes that are God. Needless to say, it makes complete sense, yet no sense at all. I think when I try to explain God to people, I stumble over what to say and how to say it. I believe that God manifests differently for different people, so I don't want to force my image of God onto other people... I want to help them understand their relationship with God. Does that even make sense? I think this text is brilliant in describing what (who!) is ultimately indescribable. The everlasting instant, right? Part of the text is below:

You, Lord, are both lamb and shepherd. You, Lord, are both prince and slave.
You, peacemaker and sword bringer...
Clothed in light upon the mountain, stripped of might upon the cross,
Shining in eternal glory, beggared by a soldier's toss.
You, the everlasting instant; you who are both gift and cost.
You, who preach a way that's narrow, have a love that reaches wide...
Worthy your defeat and victory, worthy still your peace and strife.
You, the everlasting instant; you who are our death and our life.
Alleluia.

I have searched and searched to find an mp3 recording to post here, but I can't find one, so you'll have to trust me when I say it's stunning.

[Ed. Note: shortly after I originally posted this, our new associate pastor, for whose installation we're preparing this piece, emailed me the mp3 file of Calvin College's rendition of this piece. Hopefully you can follow the words and listen here.]

In other music news, remember how Nathan got a recorder in his Easter basket? It turns out that Daddy's favorite song to play on the recorder is "Hot Cross Buns," which I'm pretty sure I hadn't heard since my fifth grade this-is-how-you-put-your-instrument-together band class. And in the last week or so, I have heard enough to last me the rest of my life. If I had known that Mark had such recorder proficiency, I would have personally implored the Easter Bunny to please bring something else. I hope that all of you reading this (like Ace & TJ, I think I am 11 strong!) now have "Hot Cross Buns" running through your heads. Yeah... it's annoying, isn't it?