Behold the cuteness.
Wearing the ultra-hip owl jammies I got her for Christmas.
Modeling for her one-year photo shoot.
Fear me.
Exhibit 12: She loves the zoo. On a recent day off work, Christy, Piper, and I went to the OKC Zoo mainly so that Christy and I could torture ourselves after watching The Cove. If you haven’t seen it, it will shatter you. Anyway, we had a great time despite our guilt over oppressed dolphins. Piper kept yelling to the buffaloes, “Puuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup-pyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” I mean, it was pretty cute when she called the wolves “puppies”, but come on… gigantic buffalo puppies, Piper? Now that’s just getting a little ridiculous. Despite being in a zoo around lions and tigers and bears (I will not say “Oh, my!”), her favorite animal was always the “duckies”. I taught her what the goat says, which wasn’t difficult because they were “maaaaaaaaaah”-ing away locked behind the fence in their pen. I was pissed because the petting zoo was closed that day and we couldn’t even go in there and play with them. Besides, I really wanted to interview one of them and ask why their eyes are so creepy. Like Satan. Christy and I were gonna teach The Doodle what a giraffe says, but then we decided we don’t know what a giraffe says, so instead we taught her what the goose says. We saw some puppies (AKA foxes) going nigh-nigh (AKA sleeping) on a big rock in the sunshine, then listened to an old man regale his wife with fascinating trivia about the little critters he referred to as “MeerRATS”, and later we caught a glimpse of the rare Great North American Domestic Housecat as he stealthily stalked a trashcan. The trashcans got spooked and started a stampede and it all got a pretty crazy and I think I blacked out for a little bit shortly after yelling to my sister and her daughter, “SAAAAAAAVE YOURSEEEEEEELVES!!!!!” But the best moment of the day by far occurred in the ape house. There was a scholarly-looking nerdy dude sitting by the exhibit window sketching a gorilla. We sat down the way a bit right next to two other gorillas, one of which was pressed up against the glass as if he was leaning on Piper for support. We were pointing out the “monkeys”, naming them thusly for simplicity’s sake, and we were having a rousing game of “What does the monkey say?” when the artist guy, who was clearly on holiday from his home country Pretentioustan, dryly remarks, “AK-tually, these are apes.” *facepalm* I think Christy and I rolled our eyes so hard and so high up into our brains that we actually had a collective stroke. I think even Piper was heard to mutter, “OMG, what a buttmunch.” I’m pretty sure I heard her say that.
In other news… I’m going to be an aunt again!!! Christy is 6 months along and due late April. Just as Piper was nicknamed “Tater” before her gender and real name were revealed at birth, we have nicknamed the new baby “Beanie” because of that one time when Christy told us she was the size of a bean. Which leads me to the next thing… she... is a SHE!!! Just as they have with all other things baby, Christy and Jake announced this bit of info in surprise fashion. When they found out they were expecting Piper, they showed up to my parents’ house and took off their jackets to reveal these shirts they had made:
Then at my 31st birthday dinner this last September, their gift to me was the tee-ninesiest little onesie that said, “I heart Aunt Tootle.” My reaction? “This is so cute! But…………. it won’t fit Piper………?” To which Christy replied with a knowing look, “That’s because it’s for a newborn.” It took literally a bunch of seconds before it finally dawned on my dad, mom, and me what that meant. Best birthday present ever, though! Even if I was a little slow on the take.
And so, on par with the aforementioned shenanigans, my dad opened a package on Christmas morning labeled “From: Beanie”, which contained a DVD. Jake and Christy said it was the ultrasound they’d just had done. We were so excited, even though we knew that they had planned to wait for the birth of the baby to find out the sex, just as they’d done with Piper. We popped it in to watch and after several minutes of cooing over the grainy moving images, the song “Sisters” from White Christmas suddenly started playing. Thing is, we had watched White Christmas the night before, so at first my parents and I thought something was messed up with the sound and that we were hearing the other movie somehow. Which made zero sense because that DVD was no longer in the player, mostly due to the fact that the ultrasound DVD was. We are not rocket surgeons as you’ve surely surmised. And yet again, it was forever and a day until we finally figured out they were trying to tell us something. And that that something was that Piper would be having a little sister. We didn’t even notice at first that the labels came up on the screen pointing out the “girl parts” as the scan caught the, uh, business shot. Can’t get anything past us, no sir. We’re about as sharp as a feather bed upholstered in velvet floating on a sea of bubbles. As is typical, the response was in this order: me screaming and laughing, Mom bawling her eyes out, and Dad just sitting there with the proudest grin on his face.
Yes. Those are trap door jammies.
So……………………………… my parents moved in with me. They say it’s because they’re building their dream house and need a place to stay since their other house already sold, but really I just think it’s a classic case of “failure to launch”. It’s a pretty funny dynamic. Usually it’s a kid moving back in with his hapless parents and things quickly go south. Like when I moved back into my parents’ house in Oklahoma after having lived in Indiana for three years, one of which was spent solo in an apartment, only to find that the parentals were ready to reinstate the 8:00 o’clock curfew I hadn’t had since I was a toddler. During that first summer back home, I spent a lot of time of an evening at a coffee house located in an artsy, granola-type part of town. I would chill with my homies in the outdoor café area until the wee hours, just taking in the sounds of poetry slams, the wafting scent of patchouli, the snatches of conversations between self-righteous atheists, the wafting scent of clove cigarettes, the bitter taste of herbal tea that’s supposed to taste good but really it just tastes like freshly-mowed ragweed, the wafting scent of what I like to call “The Reefer”, and the mournful strains of an acoustic guitar behind an open mic. My Dad didn’t like this one bit. He would chide me, insisting, “Didn’t you know that’s where all the Vietnamese gangs hang out, Heather?” Dad likes to remind me that he grew up in Oklahoma City and knows everything about it, including, apparently, the fact that art snobs and Asian gangstas like to kick it together. I tried to tell him that all I had to be afraid of was dirty hippies. The worst they could do was kidnap me and force me to not shower. The fit really hit the shan the night I was “accidentally” out past 5 AM. Come on… 5 AM is not that late. I mean, actually, it’s early since it’s technically the next morning. So uh, yeah.
But that was then and this is now. And we’re having so much fun. I probably should mention that I sold my house and bought a new one back in April. I moved into an awesome 1938 Cape Cod/Colonial on a historic block and it's like a dream home. I will post pictures soon. My parents have an entire guest suite to themselves since the top two stories have a guest room, bathroom, and TV room. The dogs think they’ve died and gone to heaven what with Nan-Nan and Pa being accessible 24-7. And I have to say, since one of my parents usually beats me home after work, they go ahead and let the dogs out of their room and it’s so nice coming home to butt wiggles at the front door. Mom and Dad are roughing it, though. They’ve had to downgrade from their king-size bed to the queen in my guest room. And since the garage was converted years ago into an office, which has now became my dogs’ room, they are having to get used to the idea of parking Mom’s beloved Mustang and Dad’s F-3000-or-whatever-it-is gigantor monster truck out in the weather. In the driveway! What’s worse is my dad had to rent a storage unit for his Corvette. It must be rough. My heart bleeds for them. In all seriosity, they are model tenants and never complain even though I’m charging them $3,000 per day for rent. What? Baby needs a new pair of shoes. Preferably Louboutins. Speaking of, I get to indulge my love for dressing my mom up like my very own life-sized, middle-aged dolly. I think she doesn’t mind that part either. She’s also declared that she is taking over kitchen duty. And it’s not rare for me to walk out in the yard and find my dad raking the leaves. Word.
Let’s see… what else…
Oh yeah, almost immediately after turning 31, I received an AARP membership card in the mail. Not just once. But TWICE. Really? 31? Oh, and my little brother just turned 30. LOL. Wow, getting older is so weird!
Other updates…
I am a rapper now. You read that right. I will put the videos up soon.
I am no longer addicted to “Words With Friends”. That ship has sailed.
I have never played “Angry Birds”.
The group I sing with actually got to perform the National Anthem at an NBA game recently. I will post more about that later.
I haven’t read any of your blogs in ages so I’m sorry for that and will try and get caught up soon.
Michael Jackson is still dead.
Snuggles and Clover have been asking to post more on the blog. Thus demonstrating that their mom thinks that just because she enjoys reading dog blogs that everyone else does, too. But how can I tell them no when they are just so darn adorable?
What's new with you???
My beautiful sister-in-law Christy and my niece Piper were on the local news the other day for a story about cloth diapering. Check out Christy's blog post with a link to the vid!
This video has changed my life.
Do you hear me?
Changed.
My life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oavMtUWDBTM&feature=related
P.S. I have been AWOL because I am busy house-hunting and packing stuff in anticipation of selling my house.
Look. At. Those cheeks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here's more detail on Piper's story, if you're interested. Christy was due on July 3rd. Well, July 3rd came and went. Christy started having some contractions early on last week but nothing major. They got checked out a couple times but it still wasn't time to have a baby. Finally on Thursday afternoon, July 9th, Christy began having strong contractions. Jake took her to the hospital, where her water broke in triage. At that time she was 100% effaced. She was admitted and we all headed up to the hospital.
We camped out in the waiting room and wait we did. We waited and we waited and we waited. We slept on the floor, just waiting for some news. The nurse would come out periodically and give us updates. Let me explain that Christy was determined to have this baby naturally. No epidural, no c-section. It was very important to her. We were all behind her on that.
The nurse would come out and say, "Okay, she's in the bathtub now." Or "She's dilated at a 6 or 7 now." One time she came out and told us that Jake and Christy were in the room dancing. Precious!
Anyhoo, Christy eventually got stuck at a 9. Things were not progressing. She was exhausted and in a lot of pain. It was decided that in order to avoid a c-section she would get a little Pitocin and a light drip of pain meds. The meds were not for Christy's pain but to give her a chance to rest. She slept for a couple hours and then woke up strenthened and ready to push. In all she was in labor about 27 hours and she pushed for 3 hours. In the end her contractions stopped so she ended up pushing by herself and got that baby out all on her own.
Piper Ann was born at 6:40 p.m. on Friday, July 10th. She weighed 8 pounds even. She was a week late. She had a small collapsed place in each lung and was taken to NICU about an hour after she got to spend some time with Mommy and Daddy. She's been in the NICU all weekend but we're hoping she'll get released from baby jail this afternoon or evening sometime.
She's my new most favoritest thing ever!
Top Ten Signs You Are Addicted to Blogging
She looks completely bewildered by teh ugly.
Speaking of bewildered. Uhhhhh................. what?
This. Is not a dress. I repeat. This. Is not a dress. It's a bib.
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In all fairness, I found some amazingly beautiful things on this particular site and will be posting them on a future "What I'm NOT Buying this Weekend." Check out Margo's site for the skinny on this meme. I think a lot of folks have been confused by my past postings because they think I DIDN'T LIKE the stuff I posted that I "didn't buy." On the contrary, I wanted ALL of those things. The point of the game is that you window shop for stuff you adore but instead of spending the money you save it by living vicariously and posting the items on your blog for all to see. And on those occassions when you actually DO purchase something you post it all the same so others can also live vicariously through you. Get it?
