Vacation!

Last week, Milo had Thursday and Friday off school, so the Langfords decided to take a mini-vacation to Branson. We've traveled quite a bit with our families, and we've visited friends, but we've never taken a trip with just the four of us--something we've looked forward to doing for a long time.

The days leading up to the trip were less than promising. Everyone had been or was feeling sick. The day before, I was so ill I really didn't have the energy to pack anything or prep in any way. This is so against my personality, I had a headache and eye tick all day as a result. There was also a lot of rain in the forecast, so I was doubting our decision to go at all. But Andrew convinced me all would be well, and (spoiler alert) it was.

We stayed in a cute little cabin in an RV park. It had a great loft area where the kids slept, and they loved the ladder. Nervous about coming down the ladder the first time or two, but then they were just making random trips up and down for kicks. The RV park had a tiny playground too, with one of those double swings where the kids sit back to back. They laughed and swung for a solid 30 minutes.

Since we had to pack nearly everything in the morning of our departure, we didn't arrive in Branson until about 2:30pm. We had time for a quick snack and a stop by the cabin to drop off our stuff (and kill all the wasps) before heading to Dixie Stampede.

(Oh, you want more of the wasp story? Basically, when we walked up to the front door of the cabin, I noticed a wasp inside the window. I told Andrew, asked him to try to kill it before the kids saw. Well. Turns out that wasp was not alone. All told, there were probably ten or more wasps just hanging out in the cabin. Needless to say, the kids noticed. We got wasp spray from the office, and sprayed the hell out the cabin. Then we left so the poison could dissipate, and went to our show. We didn't see another wasp the whole time.)

The kids loved Dixie Stampede. The pre-show juggling was only okay (Andrew and I thought it was cool though), but they enjoyed the horses, the costumes, the singing, and the fact that we got to eat while watching the show. Milo ate nearly his whole chicken, and Olive ate the inside "no crust" part of her biscuit.

 

Day 2 was our full day at Silver Dollar City. We arrived there a little before they opened, around 9:45. We stayed until they closed at 6:00pm. The kids were exhausted, and so were we, but we all had a great time. It's so fun to see the kids enjoying the rides and being so excited. Their favorite ride was the green roller coaster, a small kids coaster that they rode several times. Milo was proud because this was one where he was tall enough to ride without a grown-up. It wasn't crowded at all, so there weren't any lines, and we got to ride everything more than once. Except Fire in the Hole. The kids HATED Fire in the Hole. Passionately.

We ate delicious cinnamon rolls, potato-and-sausage hash and root beer floats (for the grown-ups), corn dogs and chicken tenders (for the kids), a cookie as big as your face, and salt water taffy. We walked about 13,000 steps. And we slept hard that night.

When we left the park, we ate dinner at this super yummy pizza place called Mr. G's. Loved it there, wish we could have stayed a little longer to enjoy the ambiance, the wine, and the Royals ALCS championship game, but the kids were exhausted and beyond ready for bed. (Royals won, BTW--on to the World Series!)

On Saturday, we went to the fish hatchery and learned about that. Kids got to feed the fish, which wasn't quite as exciting as feeding the goats or sheep at the zoo. From there, we went to Top of the Rock. We didn't have time, really, to fully explore the place or take the tours, so we just wandered a bit and had lunch at Arnie's Barn. Very tasty food, and an even better view. I'd love to go there on a grown-ups only night and enjoy some drinks on the patio next to the fireplace.

From there, we headed up to Springfield to visit our friends Katie, Eli, and their almost-three-year-old, Oliver. Kid-sized Jeeps were driven in the backyard, cats were chased, delicious food was eaten, and fun was had by all.

It was a wonderful trip. And the best parts? No one got sick and it didn't rain at all. Can't wait until we can take another vacation together.

Short Video

I know, I know, I need to do a complete Christmas post. (And a Thanksgiving post. And a Halloween one. Ahem.)

But here is a brief video of Olive sitting with Grandpa Russ on Christmas Day.

The Aquarium

We took the kids to the new aquarium in KC last week. Milo had a great time checking out the fish, the sharks, and the sea stars. Fun was had by all. We didn't purchase the requisite Sea Life photo taken upon entering, but that's okay because we've got this, my favorite photo of the day:

I don't think he wanted his picture taken.

Thankfully, he didn't make that face in every photo. More fishy fun:

Proof that Olive was there. And I think she was really into the sting rays.

Worth it

Guess where Olive and I are? What, you don't want to guess? Okay then, I will tell you. We're in Indiana, PA, visiting my sister and her family!

Courtney is 32 weeks pregnant with identical twins and has recently been put on bed rest. My mom had decided to drive out here to help out with household stuff and Courtney's two kids. And I thought, I wish I could go visit and introduce Olive to her Aunt Courtney. Then I thought... why can't I go?

So I started thinking it through. Olive would need to go with me since I am her only food source at the moment. I'd need to reschedule the kids' doctors appointments. How would I get back, since Mom would be staying six or seven weeks? I'd miss Easter. And would Andrew be okay to take care of Milo solo for a week? And could I stand being away from Milo and Andrew for that long?

So. Andrew was fine with the whole thing and encouraged me to go. I rescheduled the doctors appointments. The Easter Bunny came early to our house. My amazing in-laws gave me points to use for a flight home. And even though I knew I'd miss my boys like crazy, I decided to go.

It's a 900-mile trip, and Olive did really great. She slept a lot, and only fussed for short periods of time. Of course we had to stop frequently for feeding her and changing her diaper, but it wasn't too bad.

Did I mention that my visit was a total surprise to Courtney? She knew Mom was coming, but we kept my participation a secret. So when we got here, my mom walked in, then I followed behind. I got an amazing greeting. Big hugs and even a few tears. She was so glad to see me and to meet Olive. If I hadn't made this trip, she wouldn't have gotten to meet Olive until the end of June, and that is just too long.

I do miss Milo like crazy. The first night I was gone, Andrew told me he forgot I wasn't there and after bath, he went to the top of the stairs and called "Mommy!" like he always does so I'll come up and read stories to him. Broke my heart a little. We've been hanging out on Google+, so I've gotten to see him and give him virtual kisses and high fives, but it's sure not the same as hugging that little guy and tucking him into bed.

It's good to be here, though. I am having fun with my niece and nephew, and it's great to see my sister and brother-in-law. And while I can't wait to meet my future nephews, I sure hope they hold off until well after I go back home.

Getting close?

Today I am two days away from my due date. A certain someone who shares my DNA was born two days before his due date. So clearly today ought to be the day. But so far, no dice.

Things have been rough in the Langford household lately. Milo spent the better part of the week sick. Throwing up and feeling extra sleepy (except at night, obviously). Good for cuddles, not good for our stress levels. I've had a cold, and so has Andrew, but we have avoided the stomach bug, it seems. I've spent more than one evening in absolute misery, crying while every single part of my body ached. Convinced that I could not be pregnant another night.

Every night I'm up multiple times for bathroom trips and leg cramps. Oh my god, the leg cramps. After the months of nausea and vomiting, they're my least favorite part of pregnancy. "Get your sleep now," random people say. Shut it, I think. I'd much rather be awake nursing a baby several times a night than up peeing and whimpering in leg-cramp pain several times a night.

Today is my last day at work. That's for the best, as I am completely unable to focus for more than five minutes at a time. I cannot tell you how many times I've had the same conversation at work. It goes something like this:
Other person: You still here?
Me: Yep, still here.
Other person: When are you due?
Me: Sunday.
Other person: Oh wow, so soon!
Me: I know, any day now!

It's really happening, though. Hard as it is to believe, I will go into labor at some point and end up with a baby. A baby girl, my daughter. I will soon be a mommy of two, and my son will be a big brother—the oldest child rather than the only child. I'll see my husband turn into a father all over again, and I'll fall in love with him all over again.

Soon. Very soon.

Dear Future Baby

Dear Future Baby,

(Sorry about the weirdo nickname. That is the unfortunate plight of the second child—you can't just be "baby," for how would anyone know whether I was talking about you or about your big brother? Some people say he's hardly a baby anymore, but you'll never convince me of this.)

It is only a few short days until we find out more about you. We'll find out about how big you are, how fast your heart is beating, whether you are as healthy as can be, and perhaps the most widely anticipated news of all, whether you are a boy or a girl. It's strange, this feeling of just a short time left of wonder and mystery and dreaming. As of now, I can imagine you as a little girl, dressed in an adorable little sundress and matching shoes. And I can just as easily imagine you as my sweet little boy, wearing the silly sports-themed clothing that all boys seemed destined for. Both are wonderful and amazing possibilities. But in just a few days, only one of them will continue to be a possibility.

In a way, that makes me a little sad. Believe me, I cannot WAIT to find out more about you. Knowing who you are and imagining our life as a family of four will be amazing, and it will help me prepare to meet you. But also, my baby girl or baby boy will be gone, if that makes any sense at all. I wonder if I am the only one feeling this way. I know there is no real loss here, only gain. But since you are probably-very-likely-pretty-definitely our last baby, I am about to find out whether I will never have a baby girl to smooch on or whether I will never again have a tiny baby boy to cuddle.

Enough of that sad part though. It is YOU I want to meet! Will you look like Milo? Will you look like Daddy, with dark hair and hazel eyes? Or will it take months and months before we can even tell what color your hair actually is? Or maybe you'll come out with a full head of hair and put Milo's current amount of hair to shame. Will you remind Daddy and me every day of Milo, or will you wow us with how totally unlike him you are, even though you have practically the same DNA? I'm sorry for the inevitable comparisons to your brother. I promise you, there will be no comparing the way I feel about you, because how can you measure a love that is bigger than anything I ever dreamed my heart could feel?

You've been rolling and kicking and punching me for a week or so now. I'm sure that as the weeks go on, I'll start to notice a pattern to your movements—when you sleep and when you are awake, which foods I eat make you want to dance, how well you tolerate a little caffeine. Maybe by that time Daddy and I will have chosen a name for you so I can say, "Future Baby, please quit kicking me! I'm trying to sleep!" And then I'll remind myself that being kicked from inside is probably better than being smacked in the face by a toddler, because at least this way I don't have to figure out how to discipline you.

But I digress. Point is, we still have lots of time to get to know each other before we ever look one another in the eye. I'm truly so excited to meet you. You are already such a wonderful part of our family.

See you next week.
Love,
Mommy

A Mother's Day Letter

Dear Milo,

This Sunday will be our second Mother’s Day together. Last year you were awfully tiny on Mother’s Day—only seven weeks old. And as it turned out, you pretty much cried the entire day. (Was it because we dressed you in your sweater vest? Sorry about that. But you should know that as your mother, I cannot help myself.) So even with the wonderful breakfast your daddy made for me and the amazing necklace (which I wear very frequently), all that crying you did really put a damper on the day.

This year is going to be a lot different—in ways both good and bad. The good? You are much older, and tend to do less crying. And when you do cry, we can usually fix it with snuggles or food. But the bad—I will not be spending the first two-thirds of the day with you. We are going to a wedding in another town, and you will be spending the night with Grandma Susan and Grandpa Russ. (Remember to wish Grandma a happy mother’s day!)

I can’t tell you how bummed I was when I realized that we’d be driving back to town on Mother’s Day. I was so looking forward to playing with you and spending some fun time together. I thought maybe we’d go to the park or go get frozen yogurt or something. I know you don’t really know that it is a special day, so we will just have to do those things some other time. But I’ll be wishing I was with you.

You are so very special to me. I’m so glad I am your mama. You are more fun than I ever could have imagined. I love your laugh and the way you bounce in your seat. I love tickling your chubby baby thighs and the way you tried to slip me the tongue when I kissed you. I’ve never laughed so hard. I even love the way you take partially chewed-up food out of your mouth and offer it to me. It’s very generous of you.

When you were still growing inside my belly, people would tell me that they couldn’t really describe what it was like to have a kid. You just had to experience it. And, well. They were right. How can you explain the way you love a person who has peed on your face (and his own), vomited in your hair, pooped in your arms, and screamed in your ear? Why do you love a person who breaks your heart when you have to leave him with someone else for a few hours, then turns around and breaks your heart again when you return and he doesn’t want to go to you? There’s simply no explaining it.

Milo, there is nothing you could ever do that would make me love you less. I hope you know that. Thanks for all your hugs and smooches. You’re amazing.

Love,
Mama

This one's for you, Mimi

The Worm from Megan Langford on Vimeo.

I’ve Been Showered . . . with Love (awwww)

On Saturday, my mom and my sister threw a baby shower for me. The whole thing was pretty exciting. I really liked sitting there, surrounded by all these people who really care about me and my little cupcake, opening fantastic gifts and eating delicious snacks.

My hostesses thought of every detail, making it all very special. There was a clothesline filled with adorable tiny outfits. The pack-n-play sat in as the gift receptacle. There were children’s books with coordinating stuffed animals next to them. There were three different types of cupcakes. I loved it all.

Now Baby will be ready to support the Tigers.
(If his parents knew when the games were. Ever.)

I only wish I had gotten more pictures of the guests—they’re some of my very favorite people. (Okay, I also wish I didn’t have such an enormous double chin in most of the pictures. But nothing to be done about that.)

And in case you were wondering how the belly's doing these days, here's me at 32 weeks. I can't really believe I have less than two months to go. Wow.

Notice that we have a crib now! And a mattress! Nice, eh?

Updates!

For my first post of 2010, I give you updates. Updates on the holidays, mainly. Next time I'll fill you in on baby updates.

So. Christmas.

This was the year we spent Christmas Eve at my in-laws' house, eating delicious spaghetti and meatballs made by my brother-in-law, Lou. We watched Julie & Julia in front of the fireplace and stayed toasty warm in spite of the impending snowstorm.

This was the year it snowed on Christmas Eve, a lot. Like a foot or so of snow, on top of a layer of ice. Andrew and I actually had to get picked up in my father-in-law's truck or we would have been stuck in our house on Christmas Day. Then it snowed all day, and maybe the next day, and then a day of sunshine, then some more snow. And it was cold. Very cold. And the roads were slick and hard to drive on, which made all the family-and-friend-visiting more difficult.

This was the year Andrew and I opened our presents for each other at home, early (we were supposed to be at the in-laws' by 9:00), in front of our non-lit fireplace. Our unborn baby got a Spider Man ornament. He gave us Arrested Development on DVD. Andrew gave me a fancypants diaper bag (the exact one I wanted) and some lovely nursing/maternity pajamas. I gave Andrew a hoodie and a cardboard deer head (I swear it's cooler than it sounds).

This was the year we spent Christmas morning at my in-laws' house. It was especially nice because both Andrew's sisters could be there, so we were all together. We took turns opening gifts, and kept laughing because we all got iterations of the same things, so as soon as the first person opened it, we pretty much knew what was coming. But that made it all the more fun, because it was sort of a race to open something first.

This was the year we only opened our stockings at my parents on Christmas afternoon. We saved the rest of it for when my sister and family could join us. When they arrived, we celebrated Christmas a few days late--but it felt like Christmas Day. We ate our traditional brunch, drank hot chocolate, and opened presents. Baby got lots of presents, too. And Andrew and I were pleasantly surprised to receive both the crib and rocker from my parents. Now as soon as we get it all put together, the room will be practically complete. But I digress, because this post isn't supposed to be about baby updates.

This was the year that my company closed its doors from Dec. 24 through Jan. 3, and we all had to use four days of PTO whether we wanted to or not. I wasn't a big fan of this policy from the start, but it turned out to be a nice break. I spent some time sorting through a bunch of junk and starting a garage sale pile. I slept late, or at least as late as I could with this 2.5-pound person squirming around in my mid-section. I saw lots of friends and spent lots of time with family. So in the end, I enjoyed the long break from work.

Oh, and one more--this was the year my sister announced that she is pregnant with Baby #2. Hooray for her! So next Christmas we'll have three babies in the family. How fun will that be?

Thanksgiving 2009: an essay in photos

I present The Turkey. This is the first entire turkey I have ever purchased, and I went all out. This guy is local, free-range, pasture-fed, the whole thing. He weighed in at a modest 12.8 pounds.

Naked turkey! I was a bit baffled by that flap of skin binding the legs. But eventually I stretched it off. Gross. But if I thought THAT was gross, I should have just waited... (ooh, foreshadowing!)

Here is me, pulling out the giblets. (Why is it that no one ever uses that word any other time of the year?)

The turkey, the organs, and my belly.

This photo was taken near the beginning of this process, when I was all into taking pictures. These are just a few of the aromatics that were to go inside the turkey, you know, for their aroma.

And look! Now there are also carrots and everything is chopped.

And then the turkey got stuffed full of aromatics, and then the whole thing went in the fridge overnight, then I got up early and melted butter and brushed it over the turkey, and salted and peppered it, then put it in the oven (tented with foil, of course), then with an hour to go, brushed more butter over it, removed the foil, and then voila! The turkey you see here was ready!

Our first meal at our new dining table. Also our first meal to be eaten in the formal dining room. So nice that we could share it with our parents and Andrew's sister and brother-in-law.

Here is my mom, making the gravy. Our first gravy attempt was a big fat FAIL. Thankfully my mom was there and knew how to just start over. I was all, oh noes, gravy lumpy! And she was all, psssshhh, you no worry, I fix. And she did.

Andrew's first ever turkey carving, taught by the turkey-carving master, my dad.

Two and a half Langfords, posing in front of the buffet-style meal.

Yum, pies. Delicious pumpkin, of course, and the delectable Tollhouse cookie pie that was always somewhat of a Thanksgiving tradition at my house. The perfect end to a perfectly lovely Thanksgiving meal.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is my dad’s 60th birthday. I can’t believe he’s 60. Shouldn’t he be retired by now? I can remember celebrating his 40th birthday. Some friends of his came over and put “over the hill” signs in the yard and strung black balloons around. I don’t think I really got what “over the hill” meant. Maybe I still don’t.

Because now he’s twenty years over the hill, but 60 doesn’t seem that old to me. Sure, my dad’s hair isn’t quite as vibrantly red as it once was, and he has a few more laugh lines than he used to have, but to me, he isn’t very old at all. So, over the hill? Waaaaay over the hill? Not my dad. My dad is still more dedicated to his work than anyone I know. He spends hours taking care of his yard. He gets down on the ground and plays with his grandson. He can do crossword puzzles in circles around me. And I’m pretty sure he’s always able to find his glasses.

One thing about my dad that has always impressed me is his iron will. Because of health issues, my dad refrains from eating sweets. In the last fifteen years, I’ve probably seen him eat only two or three desserts. I went out to lunch today with my parents to celebrate the big 6-0, and even on his 60th birthday—a milestone worthy of cake and ice cream if I ever saw one—he stuck to his no-sweets plan. My mom and I shared a dessert while my dad paid the bill. He didn’t even take a bite. Impressive, no?

Happy Birthday, Dad. Thanks for buying me dessert. It was quite delicious.

Things I Did This Weekend

• Saw Tantrum perform at the Westport Coffeehouse
• Met someone who had actually heard of Yellow T-Shirt, Andrew's college band
• Found out that my in-laws bought a lake house
• Found out that my in-laws are going to bulldoze their new lake house
• Found out that my in-laws are going to build a new lake house
• Realized that Andrew and I will get no more help from my in-laws on our home-renovation projects
• Participated in EarthWalk
• Picked up two twig-like dogwood trees at the EarthFest
• Planted two twig-like dogwood trees
• Watched the first thirteen episodes of Arrested Development on Hulu
• Couldn't believe I spent that much time watching the first thirteen episodes of Arrested Development
  

Guess who had a birthday?

A couple weeks ago I went to Pennsylvania to be with my nephew to celebrate his first birthday. Incidentally, it was also Easter weekend. There were presents, a train cake, plastic eggs, and the cutest little boy. I give you pictures.

Awesome bath hair.

Just awesome.

Before Austin's first haircut . . .

After Austin's first haircut!

Austin + Aunt Megan = shoe buddies 4ever

Nom nom nom.

Party time!

Most complicated cake I've ever been involved in making.

And what is this green mushy thing?

Mmm, tasty!

Still tasty. Quite tasty, in fact.

Still good, sugarsugarsugar!!

Aaaaaand . . . too much cake.

Austin's first Easter. He caught on to the whole picking-up-eggs thing pretty fast.