Eleven-Month Update: "GO!"

Nathan is 11 months old... extremely hard to believe. I think soon I have to stop counting in months and start counting in years, or almost-years. Here, let me try: This is my son, Nathan. He's almost one. Yeah, that works. Seems like just yesterday we were counting in days, though. Wow. Don't blink, right?

Nathan has spent the last month perfecting his mad standing skillz, eating lots of finger foods, trying to get his knees underneath his torso to crawl (oh so close, but still so far away), and resorting to rolling to get where he needs to go. It's not efficient but it's cute. His gross motor skills are delayed enough that his doctor wants him to see a pediatric occupational therapist, just to rule out any physiological or neurological problems [insert disgruntled sigh here], so we'll see how that goes. I know he's behind, I just don't really think it matters. But what do I know, right?

He's also become quite the chatterbox. Besides mama and dad (hardly ever dada anymore) and the nonstop (nonstop, people) nonsense babbling we've become used to, he also now greets me with a big Hey! every morning, and says baba or bada which both seem to mean Bowden. Or dog. Or something. He has also started saying something that sounds like bait or bite that we're not quite sure the meaning of yet. Seeing as he says go when he wants to read a book, we're trying to watch for contextual instead of phonetic cues!

And speaking of go, this is one cute habit I managed to get on camera before Nathan outgrows it! Enjoy.

Softball: Hard After All

Mark has been playing on our church's softball team for the first time this year. He's made some good friends and met some really nice people (including his coach, who lived on my dad's freshman hall at Davidson), and it was really fun to watch him enjoying a sport he's been away from for too long.

The team did really well and actually made it to the second round of the playoffs (church softball is really big time around here, HA). Nathan and I only made it to one game, since they're in the evenings, but I did get this great shot of Mark running from first to second (he made it, and eventually scored).

Think I have a future as an action photographer?

You can't see it in this picture, but for most of the season, Mark sported a massive (albeit superficial) wound on his shin, from sliding into home base in early May. I didn't get a picture of the wound, but it was a lot like this one from the tri, only bigger and far, far grosser.... it never seemed to scab up, so it oozed everywhere for like six weeks. Sorry to be graphic, but you really need to understand how disgusting it was. (After our Charleston swim, several people thought it was a new injury, and one even asked if he swam into the battleship. When your injury is bad enough that people think you swam into a battleship... it's bad.) When asked if scoring the run was worth it, he says it was... but that it wasn't as much about the run as saving his pride.

So anyway when he went to his first game in gym shorts, I actually asked him if he shouldn't wear pants, for exactly that reason. His reply? (This is an exact quote, and I wish I could convey the disdain in his voice in a blog post.) "This is church softball; no one slides."

Famous last words.

(For more pictures of Mark and the team, click here.)

Cheesy Sweet Potato Fries

So it turns out that Mark's brother Nick is sort of a culinary genius. I mean, this dish wasn't his idea or anything, but he was the one who was smart enough to copycat the idea at home.

Apparently the cheesy sweet potato fries at Top of the Hill in Chapel Hill are to die for. I know it seems like an odd combination of flavors, but believe me when I say it's really good. Nick made these for us on Father's Day, and then we tried it again this week at home. The directions below are a combination of what we each did. They're definitely not the official TotH version, but just our poor man's imitation. TotH apparently also serves them with a "spicy cajun ketchup" but I have no idea what that entails. The Vagabond Gourmand didn't love the ketchup anyway, so I'm not second-guessing Nick's decision to omit it from his serving platter.

Opening my eyes to this world of sweet potatoey goodness makes me love Nick just a little bit more than I already did (which was kind of a lot, I'll be honest).

Copycat Top of the Hill Sweet Potato Fries (serves 2)
2 large sweet potatoes, cut into thick slices
cooking spray or vegetable oil
2 shallots or 1/2 small onion, minced or grated
1/4 cup crumbled gorgonzola cheese
1/2 cup shredded white cheddar

Preheat oven to 425. Spray large cookie sheet and toss potatoes to coat. Spread potatoes in a single layer and bake for about 15 minutes (depending on size of potato wedges) or until potatoes are soft inside. Remove and transfer potatoes to small baking dish. Top with cheeses and onions, and bake until cheese is melted and bubbly. Enjoy!

Five Years

Five years ago from right this minute, I was sitting in a quiet room in a white gown and veil at our church in Greenville, SC. I had a brand-new last name and a husband to go with it. We were looking at each other from chairs on opposite sides of the room, and I remember not really knowing what to say. We were both grinning, though. We had just taken vows and signed a piece of paper that made our union official. Forever. We thought we had made it.... now that it was just the two of us on our own, our lives would be simple and easy and we would have a fresh start to create the family we wanted to be. We thought the road ahead held nothing but laughs and sex and cuddling.

Hahahaha! We thought we had it all figured out. Oh, the things we didn't know:

We didn't know that we had many continents yet to visit before we would realize that we've really not seen anything at all.

We didn't know the pain of truly hurting each other, or the joy of making up and newfound trust.

We didn't know that the families we came from would very much determine the family we are now. And how we would ultimately be grateful for that.

We didn't know that our family would include the three most beautiful creatures in the world, or how much we could love them.

We didn't know how much effort it would take to make a marriage work, every day, or that the effort would make us appreciate each other so much more.


We still don't know much, but at now we're aware of our total helplessness! And one thing I do know is that my husband is an amazing, kind, gentle spirit who loves God and music and sports and travel and his family. I also know that he's (dare I say it?) pretty hot.


And I know how happy I am to be in this marriage. And that five years is only the beginning.

I love you, Mark! Happy anniversary to us!!

Rough Week

We interrupt this normally cheerful weblog for news of a very rough week.

I normally don't like to use my blog to complain or vent (bastardization of the English language aside, of course), but this week has been so rough that I think writing about it might be therapeutic. And if not, then it might invite some uplifting comments from people who would like to make me feel better. Or even from people who might have solutions to some of my frustrations. Plus, making a list will make my stresses seem a little more manageable, I think.

My apologies in advance for being a Debbie Downer. Don't read this if you can't take any more negativity today (or skip straight to the bottom, where I intend to focus on something positive, for closure).

1.) I can't seem to get my act together. When I was a kid, my dad said, "Erin, get your ducks in a row" a thousand times... yet somehow I don't think it stuck into adulthood, because I can't seem to get it together recently. My house is a mess. The laundry and dishes only get done when Mark gets around to it. I've only successfully cooked, like, one dinner in the last week. My regular sitter had a birthday Wednesday that came and went with nary a card nor bonus from Nathan and me (I will remedy that this weekend, I promise; I already have the card and the cash but of course they're still in my purse). My five-year wedding anniversary is tomorrow, and I have nothing planned for Mark except our nyc trip, which still pretty far out on the horizon... nothing special for this weekend, anyway. My inbox is full of emails I haven't responded to. My counter is full of coupons I clipped and forgot to take grocery shopping. I'm not even sure what's causing my brain to be so muddled (multifactoral, I'm sure) but I kind of feel like a world-class failure in the household-management department this week. So not only is everything chaos around me, which would be stressful anyway, but I feel guilty about the chaos. And no matter how hard I try, II'm so fuzzy that I can't think clearly enough to sort the chaos out or fix it. That's a winning combination, let me tell you.

2.) My job is out of control. I'm working way more than my "official" office hours of 12-5... although it's far better than years past, I am still frantic to get everything done in 8 or 9 hours a day (plus take care of Nathan), and I still feel like I live at my desk. And apparently we're not even doing that well this year... mission travel across the industry is like 20% down or something... so maybe those extra checks I was hoping for once I meet my sales goal won't be there after all. Which would be a bummer. And in the meantime I can still barely keep my head above water. I'm so over people asking me the same questions again and again, and wasting my time. I want to help them with their travel, I really do... but enough is enough; stop jerking me around. It only takes a few people to make me resent my whole workday, and that's just not healthy. I'm anxious to get back to actually enjoying my job.

3.) I have hives. I know this is gross, but last month when we were at Nick's wedding, I woke up with what I thought were mosquito bites. Which then multiplied. By the hundreds. In a matter of days. They have been flaring up every couple of days since then, and have yet to disappear completely. Despite blood tests, allergy skin tests, and enough bendryl to keep me and Nathan doped up for days, I am still itching out of control with no better idea of my culprit allergen. So I could be re-exposing myself all the time without even realizing it. We don't know what's causing it, but what we do know is that body is definitely reacting to something, and in a major way. I don't know if you have ever been really itchy, but it sort of takes over your whole consciousness and makes it hard to think about anything else. Imagine that, but for six weeks. I'm trying to be a good sport, but enough is enough. It's getting really old.

4.) My son bites me. After eleven months of a beautiful and oh-so-easy breastfeeding relationship, Nathan has decided that top teeth are meant for biting. Biting my boob, that is. We tried to start him on a sippy cup this week, which he mostly chewed on... and I think that gave him the idea that chewing is appropriate with mommy, too. Clearly we shouldn't have let him chew the sippy (or we should have gotten one with a hard spout). Clearly what I'm doing to stop the biting (unlatching him with my finger and ending the meal) isn't working, since he continues to do it every time he nurses. I'm at a loss... he's not doing it at the end of a nursing session (indicating he is done eating and wants to play), but right from the get-go, as soon as we sit down. Like maybe it just feels good on his teeth or something? At first he wasn't intentionally biting, but his mouth just clamped down when he smiled at me, and now I'm worried that's how he got the idea, and since it originally came with a smile he now thinks it's a game or something. (I am definitely losing at that game!) Although he doesn't seem to eager to stop nursing altogether(that's a vast understatement; he pitches a fit when I end his meals when they're barely started), I don't know what else to do.

Do you know how heartbreaking it is to watch your child being carried away from you, screaming MAMA! MAMA! with tears and snot running down his face, and you feel like you've just opted to deprive him of something he needs and wants, and even though the logical part of your brain tells you that biting isn't ok, and it's so painful that it isn't even really a possibility to continue, the mommy part of your brain still feels guilty for letting him go? Do you know how that feels? Awful. Awful enough to send this mommy sobbing into the bathroom to choke back the stomach bile threatening to spew forth at the first sign of rejecting that (illogical, in this case) mommy instinct. I have always planned to follow his cues about when it was time to wean... but although he's biting me when we sit down to nurse, his protests when I make him stop (as well as his continued efforts to get to the boob whenever I am holding him) are sending me mixed signals. Weaning now would be rather abrupt and unnatural (going from four times a day to none is rather sudden, don't you think?), and I don't want to force him to wean if he's not ready (especially since he's technically not ready for cow's milk yet), but I'm not sure what my other options are, or the best way to teach him not to bite. If you know, please enlighten me. If this is a phase that he will get over in a matter of days, then I want to stick with breastfeeding. But if it will take him more than a week or two before he can nurse successfully again, then that might as well be his weaning (saves me from going through it again later), right? Even though it breaks my heart a little to wean under these conditions.

Ok, now that I have typed all this out, I kind of do feel better. Things still feel rough and frustrating for me, but seeing that my list really only has four things on it makes it seem more manageable; less like I'm in a downward spiral. I can compartmentalize the frustration, and the threat of it overtaking me somehow seems less.

And because I always feel better when I force myself to see something positive, even when I am wallowing... now for the silver linings:
1.) Even when I drop the ball, I have a husband who is great enough to pick up the slack in housewifely duties. Many husbands couldn't and wouldn't do that, so Mark is really a blessing.
2.) Work will slow down in July, which means only a couple more weeks of job-related frenzy. If I can push out a baby without a functioning epidural, I can deal with hectic work stuff for two more weeks. And even if I make less money than I wanted to this year, my family still has more than enough and more than many, and I don't take that for granted: I am grateful.
3.) At least taking all that benadryl to itch less makes for a good night's sleep!
4.) And if Nathan isn't nursing well anyway, then I can take the good drugs (prednisone), in a good dose, employ the old "pump and dump" routine, and maybe itch less this weekend. I'm grateful for my freezer full of milk that allows me this flexibility so Nathan isn't hungry and thirsty while we figure out this biting thing.

Thanks for letting me vent. I promise I won't blog this negatively again for a long time. I know it's not my norm, so we will now return to regularly scheduled programming.

A Nongrotesque Red Hat Picture

I took Nathan this morning to have some 10-month pictures taken. (I know, I'm a little behind.) They didn't come out as great as they have in the past, so I just took the freebie and that's it. But I think it's pretty cute, especially for a free picture. :)


So tell me if I'm crazy, but I was really weirded out by one of the poses the photographer suggested this morning... putting Nathan into a cooking pot, wearing a chef's hat, surrounded by plastic veggies. She was sorting through them, mumbling comments to herself like "cucumber... no, that wouldn't be boiled, we can toss that...". Um, excuse me? You think it's weird to put cucumbers into a cooking pot scene, but you don't find it even a little strange to put the baby in the pot? I mean, a baby chef is cute and all, but in the pot? Really? I have seen a lot of people go for this pose, and I guess the kids are cute and all... but it's a trend that I really don't understand. I stopped them this morning as soon as I saw where they were going with the whole cooking pot thing. Yes, let's please not immortalize that idea on film... I will have nightmares forever.

A beachy baby is just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Just for fun (and because tomorrow is father's day), I thought I should also share a picture of Mark wearing this same red hat, when he was a baby. I like the weird papier-mâché-looking jumper they have him in. (And if you think that jumper is funny, you should see the leather car seat his parents used to bring him home from the hospital... wow.) I think he's looking more and more like Mark every week... but still I think Nathan is way cuter than Mark was as a baby (sorry, Fetsje, I know you're reading this!)... but this picture is pretty sweet, I think.

So the moral of the story is: no gross cannibalistic baby pictures, mmmkay?

Are You Calling Me Fat?

Round about eight last night I realized the only things I had eaten -- all day -- were a bucket of popcorn with a bucket of diet soda (I went to a movie for lunch), a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch, and (brace yourself, it's the healthiest thing on the list) a few stolen bites of Nathan's fruit and yogurt smoothie. I don't eat well under the best of circumstances, but I eat better when I cook... which doesn't happen much when Mark is on night shift.

Tomorrow I am working out. For the first time since our swim in Charleston (which, if you recall, wasn't much of a workout). When I see it in writing I realize I should be a little more embarrassed. But I'm not.

Happy treadmilling-while-watching-ugly-betty-dvd's, everyone!

Master of Science in Engineering

Pardon the delay on this post; it's been a hectic month. But as of May 3, 2008, Mark is officially a Master of Science in Electrical and Computer Engineering. And that's according to Georgia Tech, who has pretty high standards for such things. Makes him sound pretty smart, huh? Well, you should know... he really is that smart.

Due to Nick's wedding and a bunch of other stuff we had going on last month, we opted (and by we I mean Mark; I was not on board with the decision... for the record) not to go to Atlanta for the hooding ceremony. But one of our friends from church, whose grandson graduated from Tech this semester, did go. And she brought Mark back a program from the commencement ceremony. Isn't that ridiculously super-nice? I meant to ask her ahead of time, but it slipped my mind... then we found out last Thursday (the first time we had seen her since), that she had thought to get an extra, on her own. She said they didn't read Mark's name out loud since he wasn't there, but she gave a silent cheer for him anyway.

Since we weren't at the ceremony, I have no cap-and-gown picture to post to remember the occasion of the conferring of Mark's master's degree. What I do have is a picture taken on the day of his high-school graduation. I know it's not as impressive, but it's amusing, and it's Mark in a cap and gown, right? He was honored for his brilliance that day, too - math student of the year (I don't think they called it that, but you get the gist). That was ten years ago this month. (I feel old all of a sudden.) Weren't we cute (and skinny!!) back in the day?

(Excuse the missing corner - this pic was originally cropped to fit in a photo album... you know, the kind with actual printed photos. Remember those?)

Congrats to you, Mark! I was proud of you then, and I'm insanely proud of you now... partly your out-of-control intelligence, but even more than that, of your hard work. I love you!

10 Month Update: ...He Can Stand!

We found out yesterday that Nathan's legs aren't just for kicking after all. For those of you whose kids instinctively put weight on their legs from a very young age (some as newborns), this won't be impressive to you. But for me, the mommy of a child who has resisted pretty much every effort to bear weight on his legs, this is huge.

After months of dangling by the crotch in his exersaucer, spinning in circles in doorways as he dangled in the johnny-jump-up, Nathan is now happy to stand on his own two feet. And since you haven't seen enough video footage of him recently (ha!), you should definitely not take my word for it, but see the caught-on-camera proof.

You probably can't tell in this video, the way Mark is sitting and not knowing how tall our couch is in real life, but Nathan is really tall. We didn't realize how tall until he was standing next to Mark, and came up well past his knee. He's 29 inches... which isn't that tall for his age (it's well above average, but not off the charts or anything), but since we hadn't really seen him vertical before this week, it came as a bit of a shock!

I know that standing is one step (pun intended) closer to walking. And I know that my life will get infinitely more difficult when Nathan is mobile. Still, it's a relief to see him doing something developmentally normal. Late, but normal. Yaaaay Nathan! I'll clap my hands for you, even if you don't want to do it for yourself!

Lowcountry Splash

Since we hadn't been on the road enough in May, we thought we should sneak in one more long weekend away before the month was out. Mission: accomplished!

On Saturday, Mark and I (along with our friends Sarah and Neil... yes, the same Neil who licked out our soup pot the last time he ate dinner at our house) swam in the Lowcountry Splash, which is a 2.4 mile race in the Charleston Harbor. My mom did it, too.... but that should probably go without saying at this point, right? I mean, when have you known us to do some outdoor distance event when mom isn't there? She beat us all, too, which also should come as no surprise.

Anyway it was the first open water-event for Mark and Sarah, and first of any kind of swim event for Neil... and we all finished! Mom came in after about 52 minutes, Mark at 55, me at 56 (I searched for him the whole race and didn't find him until the finish chute), and Sarah and Neil at about 60 minutes (they stuck together for support... or romance under the new Cooper River Bridge, maybe).

Before you get too excited and proclaim that we all belong on the US Olympic team, I should tell you there was a current. In our favor. And it was faster than any of us can swim (about a mile and a half per hour). The hardest part, honestly, was trying to stay behind the start line before they started the race. Or maybe the hardest part was keeping my composure when I swam into the start line (a bunch of noodles strung together... oh yeah it was hi-tech), after making the incorrect assumption that they would have removed it from the water. At first I thought it was a huge fish or something. Ew. Or maybe, since Nathan spent the night with another Sarah (his first night away from Mommy and Daddy) and I managed to bring only some of the breastpump parts with me to Charleston (not enough to pump, clearly), maybe the hardest part was managing my boobs for the first half of the race, before milk finally leaked out and relieved some pressure. Or maybe it was swimming and swimming and swimming towards the Ravenel bridge and never getting any closer. (Anyone who has approached the Eiffel Tower by foot knows how it feels to move closer and closer towards a large structure, and never actually seem to get there. Y'all, this bridge is so much bigger than the old one.) At any rate, it wasn't the distance that was hard -- we all managed just fine (partly in thanks to my sister Ashley's awesome get-ready-for-Charleston swim-workouts).

We're proud of ourselves, but we did admit afterwards that we wished it had been a little more difficult (as crazy as that sounds), so we'd feel like we had accomplished something more. At the same time, having the current in our favor and finishing with really good times made the whole event much more easygoing, much less serious, than others have been... which was kind of nice. After riding our bikes in a hailstorm, we were due for lighthearted event, I think.

At some point I will update this post with a picture of us at the finish, but I have to wait for someone to email me some pics. Somehow we managed to get all the way to Charleston and back and not take our camera out, even once. In the meantime, enjoy this picture of the swim start with the bridge in the background. If you want to experience Charleston from a new perspective, this is a neat way... "get under it!" Also, it's a great first event if you're interested in trying out the sport of open-water swimming.