Lunch with James Farmer

While we were in Georgia, My Dad took babysitting duty so My Mom, My Sister, and I could attend a ladies' luncheon at their club, Cuscowilla.

Go ahead and roll your eyes at the notion of a ladies' luncheon at the country club. We did a bit, too. But we decided we couldn't resist the menu—and the topic for the luncheon sounded rather interesting.


And so we joined the ladies' club for a discussion, lunch, and book signing with author, landscape designer, and Southern Living editor James Farmer. We learned how James first became interested (from an incredibly early age) in gardening and cooking; how he taught his roommates to cook while getting his degree at Auburn; and how he sees landscapes, interiors, gardens, and food all working together to create truly fine southern living. He told a few entertaining stories ... and also talked about the process of getting his first book published and about the excitement of his book tour.

It's hard to believe, but he's actually the same age as I am. I never would have guessed it, but then again he did say a number of times that he's an "old soul."

After we listened to James speak for a while, we headed to the Waterside Restaurant at the club for lunch. And oh what a lunch it was.


We started with acorn squash soup, which had a pleasant hint of ginger.


And for the main course? Tilapia covered with lobster and blue crab sauce, sitting on a bed of polenta, accompanied by haricot verts (aka green beans).

It was a delightful lunch with my two favorite ladies.

A Day with the Baby

Since returning from our Lake Oconee trip, the little guy has decided he must. be. held. all. the. time. I blame this on his Mimi and Papa and Auntie Coley.


And so I have spent a good portion of the past couple of days sitting on our couch in the living room, armed with toys and children's books for Collin and a journal and Nook for me.

It's a rather enjoyable existence. I'm trying to savor every moment of it and not stress about all the things I could be doing around the house instead.

It's hard to believe, but I have less than two weeks left to be home with the little guy full-time!

Homemade Pot Pie

The other day I had the urge to make a homemade pot pie.


So I hopped online and scrounged up a relatively easy recipe (you can find it here). I modified it a bit, using chicken and frozen veggies because I didn't have Thanksgiving leftovers like the recipe suggested.


It turned out pretty well, which is a good thing since we're still eating the leftovers!

A Week at the Lake

The little guy and I decided to ditch Conservative Hubby and Butter at home last week and headed to Georgia to visit My Parents.


They moved into a new townhome at Lake Oconee when they retired in August and we had yet to see it. Plus My Parents were, of course, dying to spend more time with Collin. And I couldn't pass up a chance to enjoy some nice weather and relax a bit.

It was a wonderful week, particularly because My Sister joined us for quite a few days. Plus Conservative Dad was there at the same time. And Kid Sister visited too. So Collin got to spend quality time with both of his favorite aunties. Plus he met Uncle H, Auntie R, and M.C.

What did we do all week? It was a rather strenuous schedule. We started each morning on the top balcony of the house, where we sipped our coffees and read our books or did crossword puzzles. That shot of the lake above? That was taken on the top balcony.

Then we'd move down to the main floor for breakfast and a bit of lounging on that balcony, or a little warm-up by the fireplace if it was a cool morning.


At some point in the day we'd take a nice walk, with Collin in tow in the Baby Bjorn. My Dad spent some time fishing most days, and sometimes we'd watch him in action.


We'd cook meals at home or hit up our favorite spots (Filet, The Yesterday Cafe, Mellow Mushroom, Silver Moon).


In the evening, we'd enjoy a glass of wine and play games.

Oh, and there was of course lots of time spent playing with Collin, holding Collin, bathing Collin, and generally just watching him be his expressive self. His Mimi and Papa couldn't get enough of him!

A Baby Photo Shoot

Right about the time Collin turned three weeks old, we made an appointment for a newborn photography session.


It was an anniversary gift from Conservative Hubby (yes, in the midst of baby madness, we celebrated our second anniversary), and just in time for us to have some photos for the holidays.


I guess you're supposed to do these things within the first week or two, when the newborn is still sleepy and pliable and will basically let you do whatever you want because they're not quite alert yet.


We missed that window, so we spent an hour and 20 minutes convincing wide awake Collin not to get too angry at us for stripping him down, putting different hats on, and posing him.


Oh, and catching him when he decided to bail off the football.


Fortunately, she kept the room nice and hot so he didn't mind hanging out sans clothes.


He did pretty well, considering what we asked of him, and we ended up with some terrific, wide-awake photos, plus a few sweet shots that look like he was sleeping (though he definitely wasn't).


I'll let you pick your own favorites. This one may or may not be mine.

All of the snapshots you're seeing here were taken by Roni B Photography here in L-Town, in case you're wondering.


She did a terrific job!

Traditions New and Old

Yes, I know most of you are well past thinking about Christmas and have moved on to bigger and better things like New Year's resolutions and figuring out how the heck you could have possibly consumed so many sugar cookies in one month. (No? That one's just me?)


But because I'm a new mom whose days are consumed with a delightful yet rather demanding little guy, I operate on a schedule all my own. So you're getting another Christmas post now. Deal with it.


This is the first year since right after I graduated from college that I actually spent Christmas at "home." I use "home" in quotation marks because it isn't the same home in which I spent Christmases past.


I did not return to my hometown in Wyoming or even to the state in general (in part because My Parents don't live there anymore!). And unlike I've done in the past few years, I did not split my time between celebrating the holidays with My Parents wherever My Sister lives (a few years in D.C.; last year in Santa Monica) and then visiting Conservative Grandparents in Florida. Instead, My Parents made the trip to L-Town to join us for new holiday traditions in good ol' L-Town.



With My Parents, Conservative Parents, Kid Sister, and T-Bear, plus a smattering of good friends here and there, we managed to have a wonderful Christmas celebration that stretched over a couple of days. Best of all, we were able to start some new family traditions and integrate some of My Family's favorites, which we seem to maintain no matter where we celebrate Christmas.


The photos scattered throughout this post provide a snapshot of some of those traditions. On Christmas Eve, Conservative Parents joined us for our traditional meal of seafood chowder and rolls, followed by an angel food cake with peppermint ice cream. (It's a birthday cake for Baby Jesus, in case you're wondering. When we were younger, we'd light birthday candles and sing Him happy birthday. Cheesy? Perhaps. But it is a reminder of the reason for the season.)

Then, after we attended a celebration hosted by some good family friends, we got the little guy ready for bed. My Mom (who's known throughout the land for her reading voice) read Collin "The Night Before Christmas," which was given to him by his great aunt and uncle in Kansas City.

We set out cookies and milk and a note for Santa on the tray My Sister and I used for this very purpose throughout our childhoods. This year, Butter wrote the note on behalf of himself and Collin. In future years, Collin will have the pleasure of writing his own note to Santa.

Magically (!), when we awoke on Christmas morning Santa had already come and filled our stockings. After eating a bit of our usual Christmas morning bread, we took a peek at the treasures we received. Then we loaded up and headed over to Conservative Parents' house for gifts over there (along with Kid Sister, T-Bear, and Cubbie) and a delicious brunch that included Conservative Dad's famous sausage gravy and biscuits.

Later that evening, we went back to Conservative Parents' house for a traditional Christmas dinner of turkey and all the fixings. Deeelicious, and the perfect end to Christmas Day.

Displaying the Nativity Set

Ask me about the Christmases of my childhood and I will most surely mention this little nativity set. When I was a little girl, I used to delight in setting up the nativity set when we decorated for Christmas.

My Sister and I regularly knelt before it and played with the pieces, or we simply crouched in front of it, gazing at Mary and Joseph and the three wise men and baby Jesus and the animals and the angel looking down over all of them.

Years ago, I laid down the law and said that once My Parents no longer wanted or had a place for it, the nativity set was coming with me. My Sister never protested—whether out of kindness or because she knew it was a battle she'd lose, I don't know.

When My Parents retired and moved to Georgia this year, the nativity set was delivered to our house (along with an abundance of random childhood and high school memorabilia).

So now it is on display in our little house in L-Town, and hopefully for many Christmases to come our little guy will gaze at it and play with the animals and enjoy it as much as I have.

Decorating for Christmas

I wish I could take credit for the lovely Christmas tree in our living room.

And for the stockings hanging in the dining room (because, sadly, we do not have a mantel upon which to place them).


Normally I do all the decorating myself, as Conservative Hubby doesn't really get into that sort of thing. Only this year, the decorations appeared as if by magic while I took a much-needed nap about a week after the little guy was born.

Some very helpful elves (aka My Mom and My Sister) did all the decorating work.

I have had many hours at home in the last couple of weeks to enjoy their festive touches, and for this I am grateful.

Giving Birth

My parents arrived in L-Town on November 18 just in time to meet Conservative Hubby, his parents, and I at one of the Mexican restaurants in town for dinner. It was, I guess you could say, our last dinner out before we became parents.

I had a few fairly strong contractions during dinner—strong enough to give me pause in the middle of eating my steak burrito—but didn't think much of it because I'd been having contractions off and on for more than a week. They had gotten stronger in the last couple of days but still weren't anything to write home (or, perhaps more accurately, rush to the hospital) about, as they weren't at all consistent in their frequency or length.

After an enjoyable meal, we headed home to get My Parents set up with their makeshift basement bedroom where they'd be spending a couple of weeks. Shortly thereafter, Conservative Hubby and I headed to bed, as we had to be at the hospital in Springfield by 6 a.m. to start the process of trying to flip our little breech baby and, hopefully, getting labor started.

At 1 a.m., I went from fast asleep to bolting out of bed with a start. Even in my not-yet-awake state, I knew instantly that my water broke. I'd read that despite what you see in the movies, in many cases labor does not start with a dramatic gush. It may be a trickle or your water may not even break until you're at the hospital and in the throes of serious contractions. But for me, the dramatic gush was real.

In the same moment I jumped out of bed, I was already telling Conservative Hubby to get up, we needed to go, my water broke.

We were both pretty darn calm about the whole thing. Conservative Hubby didn't say much except, "Let me take a shower and then we'll go." And for some reason it seemed totally sane that he would want to bathe before we drove 35 minutes to the hospital, so I set about getting dressed and trying to clean up a bit. I called the hospital to let them know my water broke and to confirm that we should come in right away since the baby was breech (they said yes). Then I headed downstairs to wake up my parents and let them know we were headed to the hospital earlier than planned and that I'd keep them updated.

And then we were off.

At the hospital, things proceeded much as you would expect. We arrived at the emergency room since it was after hours, I was wheeled up to the maternity suites, they got us set up in our room, and then a steady parade of nurses began coming in, hooking me up to monitors and preparing me for surgery.

Conservative Parents arrived in time to stop in and say hello before we were wheeled down to the operating room. Conservative Hubby was particularly excited to don scrubs for the big event—although less so when he discovered they were paper scrubs and not "real" ones.

Only about 10 minutes into the surgery, we heard the cries of our little guy. He was born at 4:15 a.m. One of the nurses brought him around the curtain that was hung over my abdomen to show him to us as soon as they cut the cord, then they whisked him to the corner to clean him up. Conservative Hubby went to watch them work on the baby and then, while the doctor worked to finish the surgery and close me up, Conservative Hubby held the little guy next to me so I could look at them both. It was a surreal moment, to say the least.


And as soon as we made it back to our maternity suite, I got a chance to hold the little fellow. It was an exciting moment, but also very strange to look at the little creature that I'd carried around for the last nine months and to be holding him in my arms and not in my belly anymore.

(For both Conservative Hubby and I, it was also a little bit overwhelming, knowing that we were wholly responsible for the little bundle in our arms. That's a feeling that still hasn't gone away and perhaps never will.)

Delivery Options

From early on in my pregnancy, I knew I wanted to deliver our little one into this world as naturally as possible. I had no intention of being militant about a natural childbirth—I was not going to adamantly refuse any and all drugs at all costs. But I have a pretty high pain tolerance and, barring any complications or unforeseen issues and armed with deep breathing and relaxation techniques honed from years of yoga practice, I had every intention of undergoing a drug-free delivery.

Conservative Hubby, of course, thought I was nuts—particularly once we attended a day-long Lamaze class and learned in more detail what happens during childbirth and what the drugs can do for you. He questioned why, when given the opportunity to deliver relatively pain-free, I'd ever choose the pain and agony of natural childbirth.

It's a reasonable question. I don't want to go into a drawn-out debate about the topic. I don't think there is anything wrong with a woman having a child with the assistance of the many drugs and medical interventions hospitals regularly use during labor and delivery. It's simply that after careful contemplation and research on the options, I decided without a doubt that I wanted to be fully aware, fully present, and fully feeling every moment of my son's birth—and to avoid the potential complications that not delivering naturally can sometimes lead to. Women have delivered naturally since the beginning of time, so it's really not that strange!

But it's a good thing that I wasn't, as I said before, militant about delivering naturally, because we discovered a few months before my due date that our little guy was breech. At that point, he still had plenty of time to flip around to the correct position—and many babies do, up until right before they're born. But as October gave way to November and the final countdown began, it became pretty evident that despite all the wiggling he was doing in my stomach, the little guy had no intention of budging from his breech position. His head was resting comfortably (well, for him anyway) above my belly button and his legs were curled up under his bottom way down near my pelvis. (Consequently, that is still one of his favorite positions to snooze.)


(On a side note, this position gave Conservative Hubby cause for alarm, because after our initial "its a boy!" sonogram, the bambino's position made it impossible for the "visual confirmation" Conservative Hubby needed that we were, in fact, having a boy. He grew increasingly concerned that we were going to bring home a little girl from the hospital and that she would spend the first year of her life wearing all of the boy's clothes we had been given as gifts.)

That concern never crossed my mind. I was more worried about the possibility of a c-section, which I absolutely, positively had no interest in having. Major surgery? No thanks. I knew enough about the potential complications and the long recovery time to know I'd take a vaginal delivery (with or without drugs) any day over surgery. Conservative Hubby thought I should just go with it. Spending less than an hour in the operating room rather than an unforeseen number of hours or days in labor sounded pretty good to him. To me, not so much.

After I learned the baby was breech I, of course, set about researching what I could do to turn him around on my own. Inversions? Yep, tried them. Elevating my pelvis on a big stack of pillows? Did that too. Putting a cold bag of peas on the top of my stomach so he'd want to flip and get his head where it was warmer? I tried that once and decided it was ridiculous and perhaps a little mean to give my baby a brain freeze before he's even born. Positive thinking and coaxing with phrases like, "Come on, flip buddy"? Did that every day.

Still, nothing worked, so in early November we set a date to try the last best hope for getting the baby to flip: Going to the hospital and having the doctor attempt to turn the baby. It's called a "version." I'd be all hooked up to an IV and given a drug (see! already had to change plans) to help relax my uterus, then the doctor would actually work on turning the baby by placing her hands on my stomach and pushing him around until he moved into the correct position. It wasn't a sure-fire solution, but it had a pretty high success rate. I was willing to try it if it meant I could still deliver naturally.

So we set the date: November 19. We were scheduled to go in very early in the morning for the version. If it worked, the doctor would induce labor right away with the hopes I'd have the baby before he decided to flip back around (which sometimes happens). If the version didn't work, while I was all hooked up and ready they'd whisk me in for a c-section and deliver the baby that way.

As disappointing as it was that I wasn't going to get to leave the birthing process up to nature, it was kind of nice to have a date in mind for when our little guy was arriving. And it was particularly nice that it happened to be the day after my parents were able to arrive in L-Town, a Saturday morning, and long enough before Thanksgiving that I could (hopefully) celebrate the holiday.

I held out hope that the version would work and I'd still be able to deliver, if not completely naturally, as close to it as possible. But I also went back and began reading about c-sections (I'd ignored the part of articles and books that dealt with them because I had no intention of having one), so I knew what to expect during the surgery and recovery.

You know me, gotta be prepared. And it's a good thing I was.

2 Weeks

It's hard to believe this little guy has been with us for two full weeks now.


It has been exciting and exhausting and definitely an adjustment.


I never knew it was possible to sit and stare at someone for hours but trust me ... it is.


And the adventure is only just beginning!

Introducing Collin

Meet William Collin. He joined our family at 4:15 a.m. on Nov. 19, 2011. Weight: 7 pounds, 8 ounces. Length: 20.5 inches.

He's healthy and happy and doing well (though still not interested in sleeping much at night). Conservative Hubby and I are doing well too, though I'm moving a bit slowly because the little guy arrived via C-section.

I'll share more details (and photos, of course) soon!

Animals!

You may have noticed a theme with many of the pieces of art I showed you in my last post.

(In case I need to be Captain Obvious, that theme was animals.)

But the animal fun doesn't end with the walls. In fact, it's kind of scary how many animals already populate the nursery. If this is any indication, our house is going to be overrrun by little furry creatures, like all these little critters with their big googly eyes.


I won't bore you photographing all of the terrific animals hanging out in the baby's room, but I do have to share a few of my faves. There's this colorful pillow pet.


This friendly little fellow.


A handsome gorilla, who also has a couple of friends in the form of a hippo and a lion.

These animals are particularly cool because they are part of a Jane Goodall collection and are made from organic cotton and plant and mineral dyes.


Part of the proceeds from the purchase of each one go toward the Jane Goodall Institute. Pretty cool, eh? (Plus have I mentioned how adorable they are?)


Then there are the two little buddies hanging out on the rocking chair. The giraffe plays a variety of soothing sounds and the monkey is just known for giving really terrific hugs.

Every nursery needs a monkey known for giving really terrific hugs.

Handmade Artwork

The artwork in the nursery is particularly exciting because it's all in some way or another handmade.

There's the very friendly caterpillar on the bookshelf.


A little cheerful saying above the bookshelf.


And the row of animals above the rocking chair.


All of this artwork I ordered from Etsy. In case you're not familiar with Etsy, it's a website where you can find anything and everything handmade and vintage you could possibly want. It's pretty much my most favorite site for gift-giving or, in this case, decorating.

Then there are the colorful characters above the changing table (a gift from a friend, who found them on Etsy, too.)


Plus a cute little calendar that goes along with the animals.


And then there's this masterpiece, which was a shower gift from a good friend of Conservative Family's.


We had one spot on the wall that My Mom and I could not figure out what to do with, and then magically this gift appeared and went perfectly in that one spot. The coolest part is that under all the fun papers and embellishments, it's magnetic, so we can add to or change out things whenever the mood strikes.

Butternut Squash Soup with Ravioli

I'd like to interrupt the never-ending stream of baby room posts to bring you a photo of a recent cooking adventure.


Nothing says fall like a bowl of butternut squash soup.

It happens to have a texture slightly reminiscent of baby food, however, so I apologize that perhaps I'm not straying from the dominant topic of the moment as far as I should.

But despite the fact I just told you it has a texture like baby food, it's actually pretty darn good. Really. Even Conservative Hubby ate it.

And it was easy to make, too. The recipe, from Better Homes & Gardens, is available if you click here.