I mean, a typical day looks a lot like this:

• Baby wakes me up via talking sounds over the monitor.  Walk into nursery to find Aidan smiling and talking to the flying koopa above his crib.
• Change baby, get dressed, make bed, make breakfast, then feed baby while eating breakfast.  Wipe crumbs off his head.
• Play with baby for about an hour.  This entails tummy time, reading books, going for walks, staring at the ceiling, running errands, cleaning the house, laundry, etc.
• First nap time, which can and will only ever happen in my arms.  I spend this hour holding the baby with one hand, reading and not commenting on blogs with my other hand (I hate one-handed typing!).
• Baby wakes up, change baby, feed baby, play time!
• Second nap, which can and will only ever happen in his swing.  During this hour I clock into work for what I hope will be a solid uninterrupted hour of working time.  This rarely happens, but I still hope for it every day.
• Change and feed awake baby, make dinner, welcome husband home, eatdinnerwatchTVfeedbabyputbabytobedshowerbedtimeforme (evenings always go by in a blur).

So, obviously I don’t do nothing.  Why, then, do I never have a response when people ask me what I do all day?  I guess I could say, “I kept a tiny human alive and ran my household like a rock star” but that would probably only result in even more strange looks from those who are silly enough to ask me that question.

Clearly the only people who would ask a stay at home what she does all day are people who have never had babies…

Aidan at the farmer's market. Of course, Aidan was far more interested in his tasty knuckles than in the fresh local produce.

Can I just say that my husband is awesome?  I can, can’t I?  Because if I can’t, then why the heck am I paying to host this blog?  Down with censorship!

Jeeze, easily distracted much?

All distractedness aside, Wes is awesome.  We spent some seriously fun time together as a family this weekend and it was bliss.  On Friday we decided to celebrate Cinco de Mayo in honor of my late father.

My Dad loved Cinco de Mayo (he was a phenomenal cook, and his favorite kind of food to make was Mexican food) and he also loved The Big Lebowski (he loved that movie so much that at his request we carried his ashes around in a coffee can until we could spread them in the ocean), so we whipped up some White Russians and tamales and had a fan-freaking-tastic evening.

Yes, I cried at the end of the movie, and cried even more when we watched the slideshow of his life my aunts made for his memorial.  But, I don’t think it’s a bad thing to cry because you miss someone you love.  It felt nice to spend an evening enjoying the things he enjoyed, and I’m really glad Wes was willing to share it with me.

On Saturday we took Aidan to the local farmer’s market for the first time.  I don’t know what the farmer’s markets are like in your area, but ours is pretty fantastic.  Lots of fun, food, and festivity.

We bought some fresh asparagus, potatoes, and English toffee, and then stopped by Costco to buy some crab-stuffed salmon.  Wes then proceeded to make me a special Mother’s Day dinner the likes of which has not been seen this side of a 5-star restaurant.  De-LISH!

Of course Sunday was Mother’s Day, and it was a lovely time.  Wes gave me an incredibly thoughtful gift and I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you what it is: A silver ring with an amethyst (Aidan’s birthstone).  I wear it on my right ring finger and it looks perfect there.  Such a thoughtful gift!  Now I have a ring to celebrate the day I became a wife (my wedding ring) and a ring for the day I became a mother.

Now it’s Monday.  And I’m kinda sad.  It was such a fun weekend, why did it have to go and end?

Then came the reality of being parents to an infant.

We started Aidan off with disposable diapers, so that I could have a chance to get my feet under me without heaping anything more onto my plate.  When we did try the cloth diapers, we were appalled to discover that they leaked like nobody’s business.  I was doing four times as much laundry thanks to the diapers and extra outfits!

So, I turned to Twitter, and my cloth diapering friends there.  They recommended Snappis, the cloth diaper fasteners, to help the cloth diapers fit a bit more snug and prevent leaks.  Wes and I bought some, tried them, and were very pleased with the results.

We had the cloth diapers, the cloth diaper covers, the cloth diaper fasteners, and…no will whatsoever to use them.  Wes was still willing to give the whole thing a go, but I so was not.  Cloth diapering was never really my idea (Wes originally proposed it) but I was willing to give it a shot, especially since Wes still didn’t have a job when we bought said diapers.

It took me twice as long to change Aidan with the cloth diapers, I had to change him a lot more often, and the smell of the dirty cloth diapers bothered me even though they were in a trash can with a tight-sealing lid.  All in all, I just wasn’t feeling it and, since I change 90% of Aidan’s diapers, Wes conceded to defeat.

Besides, we’ve found that we don’t spend nearly as much on disposable diapers as we thought we would.  Add that to the fact that the cloth diapers would only have fit until Aidan was six months old or so, and he was too small to wear them until he was two months old, and the cloth diapers really weren’t saving us that much money anyway.

So that’s the deal with the cloth diapers.  Part two.  They just didn’t work out for us.  I’ll never be one of those hip blogging moms who waxes poetic about her cloth diapers.

If there’s a new hole in the ozone over Washington state, we can name it after Aidan’s bottom, ok?

I just thought I’d share a bit about why Wes and I have chosen to go with cloth diapers for Squishy’s little buns, because I’d rather that people didn’t get the wrong idea about me.  The following are myths:

• I love doing laundry, and thus have chosen cloth diapers because I just can’t get enough of washing and folding stuff all day every day.
• I like poop.
• I would rather do more work in an effort to save the environment, because I am self-sacrificing and magnanimous and hug squirrels when I get the chance.

What, then, if not a love for poop and squirrels and laundry, is the reason we decided to go with cloth diapers?

Cost.

We sat down and did the math, reformulating our monthly budget to account for the increased costs associated with having a child, and realized that our little family has the best chance of making it if we use cloth diapers.  We estimated that we’d spend about $60-$80 a month on disposables, which, while not horrible, is still a number that must be contended with.

We just bought $220 in cloth diapers, which should get us through Squishy’s first nine months of life.  This means we spent less than half as much on diapers for Squishy’s first nine months, and we can reuse the diapers when Squishy’s siblings arrive.

Now, I realize that there are people in the world for whom extra laundry and close proximity to poop are not worth the savings.  Wes and I are simply willing to make the sacrifice to keep our budget as lean as possible.

The diapers are actually really easy to use (no pins or anything) and we think Squishy will be very content with his big fluffy bum-cushion.  Our plan for now is to use disposable diapers (which several people generously gifted us with) for Squishy’s first couple weeks while I’m getting the hang of being a mommy, and then make the switch.

So that’s the deal with the cloth diapers.  Anyone out there using or used cloth diapers?  How’d it work out for you?  Any tips?

I would say, though, that even with my Dad’s passing and saying goodbye to Doc, we had a pretty good year.  I was blessed enough to get to take one more trip out to see my Dad before he passed away.  We found out that we’re expecting a super-cute baby boy and that pregnancy agrees with me.  Wes finished school and ended the year with a big certification exam victory.

I mean, yeah, this year was not free from speed bumps.  It was, however, a good year.  We still have our house, we have our health, we have our son (and his health), and we have each other and our families.  No, we still don’t have cable TV and it’s been awhile since we took a vacation, but shoot.  Life is good, and I’m not complaining.

That being said, I still have hopes for 2010.  It’s a whole new decade, you know.  At this time ten years ago, I was a 14 year old girl who had just moved to Washington with her mom and her mom’s creepy boyfriend.  I spent New Year’s Eve on the computer, listlessly waiting for someone to sign on to AOL Instant Messenger so I could chat with someone.  Anyone.

Ten years later, I have a rakishly handsome husband, a very busy baby boy kicking my ribs, and a bottle of Martinelli’s with my name on it.  We’re staying in this year due to my propensity for degrading into a toddler after 11 pm, and I have no doubt we’ll have a splendid time doing it.

Here are my hopes for 2010:

• A healthy baby and a safe delivery of said baby.
• A good job for Wes.
• A strong finish in school and good job for my brother.
• The ability to endure the 30 Day Shred with Wes once the baby’s here.
• To ring in the New Year next year having lost all my baby weight.
• An excellent year for my company, including a successful site re-launch and doubled traffic.
• A tenable solution for what I’m going to do at work next year when the baby’s here.

Much like with last year, I have no idea how these hopes will shake out.  Some may happen, some probably won’t.  The nice thing is, it’s a whole new year.  There’s nothing but the opportunity for great things to come.  I look forward to seeing what’s ahead, and though I know there will of course be challenges to overcome, there will be joy too.

What do you hope for next year?

That’s right, he met his foe on the battlefield, pitted his wits against it, and emerged victorious with a nearly perfect score.  Take that, Microsoft certification exam!

Now that this exam is behind him, Wes can officially start looking for work as a software developer because not only is he now qualified as a software developer, he also has the credentials to back it up.  He wants to take five more exams after this one so that he’s qualified as a super-hero developer or somesuch, but this was the big one and he nailed it.

We spent the day at the super-fancy mall around here, soaking up the revelry and commerce, and then went to see Avatar in 3D.  It was a really fun movie to watch, but either my eyes are broken or the projectors were slightly out of focus because a lot of the movie just looked kind of blurry.

Needless to say, I’m really going to enjoy watching the movie again on DVD.  When I won’t spend half the movie closing my eyes to avoid the blur, and where I won’t miss crucial parts of the plot because of my many bathroom breaks.

Now we are left with wonderful things to celebrate.  We’re making a special dinner of beef-ale stew with green onion buttermilk dumplings for dinner in honor of it being Christmas Eve and all, we’re spending all day tomorrow with his family to celebrate Christmas, and then on Monday we get to sneak a peek at what our little Squishy is up to.

Seriously, life doesn’t get much better than this.

Last night though.  *shudder*  Wes was able to get the hoses leading from the wall-mounted faucets to the washer thawed, but the washer was still unable to get the water to come through.  We concluded this was because something inside the washer was frozen.

To combat this, we decided to run a load of laundry with hot water manually poured into the washer.  This actually worked quite well, and after a rocky start the washer was soon thawing out and humming along quite well.

We congratulated each other and went inside to cook dinner.

Never in our wildest imaginings could we ever have conceived to check to see if the drain hose was likewise frozen.

Oh but it was.  I went out to check the washer and there was an error message in the little digital window and bright white cheerful suds were flowing from the bottom of the washer door onto the garage floor.  The door clicked unlocked and, because I’m curious, I opened the door.

The bloody great deluge!

In case you’re curious?  If your washing machine starts flashing you ominous error messages and clutching its stomach while saying it’s going to throw up?

Whatever you do, make sure it’s not opening that door.

Unless you have a large bucket handy.  Or just really want to wash your floor with laundry detergent.

Wes was, of course, watching the whole debacle.  This was unfortunate because I happened to be wearing his shoes at the time and it’s entirely possible they wound up as collateral damage thanks to my delay at dodging the great flood of cleanliness.

We wound up with a garage floor that looked like this:

On the plus side, Wes' car's tires were mountain fresh...

Because my husband is awesome, he tackled the clean-up (I was excused because of my difficulty at reaching the ground) while I finished dinner.  Wes, being the intrepid troubleshooter he is, refused to give up hope on the washer and, after two more cycles with hot water, was able to defrost the drain pipe and effectively resuscitate our washer.

The question for us now is, what do we do about our garage?  In the four years we’ve owned the house, the garage has never gotten so cold that the washer’s frozen up.

All that’s changed now, so what do we do?  Do we insulate our garage?  Buy a space heater for laundry day?  Wrap our hoses with heat tape and insulation?

These are all big homeowner questions, none of which can be solved with martinis or cookies.  Unacceptable.

I wish I had more to say at the moment, but unfortunately every time I open my mouth the only thing that comes out is either “Baby!” or “Offbeat Mama!” or “Windows!” because that’s pretty much the majority of what I’m thinking about at any given moment.  Baby because, well, duh.  Offbeat Mama, which is the name of the new site I’m helping to launch, because we’re launching next week and I’m juggling a whole heap of things to get that going.  Windows because we’re getting ours replaced.

I’m actually pretty darn tickled about getting our windows replaced.  Our house has two kinds of windows: vinyl and aluminum frame.  The vinyl windows are newer and work great.  The aluminum ones?  Not so much.

They’re as old as the house and you can certainly tell.  They leak heat like a sieve during the winter, and let it come pouring in during the summer.  The winter is the worst though, because they collect condensed water and then it pools on the window sills and I have to mop it up every morning to prevent it from dripping onto the carpet.  All that moisture eventually leads to mold growth, so every week during the winter I have to disinfect and clean out our window tracts.  Just so you know, winter in Washington?  Lasts a long frigging time.

Adding insult to injury, the seal on the windows in our bedroom broke and now there are little white spots on the insides of the panes of glass.  This means we can no longer see through the windows in our bedroom.  Super fancy nice, huh?

Wes’ brother is an excellent contractor, so he’s going to replace our windows when his schedule clears up.  Not only will this save us buckets of money on our heating bill this winter, it’ll update the heck out of our house and enable us to see clearly through our bedroom windows.

I’m excited about these things, but what I’m most excited about is the prospect of bringing Squishy home in February (the deep, dark depth of winter) and being able to keep the house warm enough.  Also, being able to put the baby to sleep in his/her bassinet next to a window that doesn’t grow mold?  That tickles me too.

Now, as for Offbeat Mama.  I’m really excited about that too.  Ariel and I have been working on it all summer and the official launch is on Monday.  But.  If you want to, you can come sneak a peek extra early-like.  You just need the login / password, which are: mamasays / timeforbed

The site is really fun already.  It’s basically an online community where offbeat parents don’t have to apologize for being who they are and where we can all collectively ooh and ahh over one another’s adorable progeny without wondering whether someone’s judging us for whatever decision they think is weird/wrong/whatever.

So yeah.  Come check it out, at the very least so you can see the adorable shoes I blogged about last week :)

PS: A new belly pic is coming up tomorrow!  I’ve decided I’d like to do those every two weeks, so we’ll see if I can keep it up!

After a whirlwind shopping adventure that ransacked five different stores, I ended up with the following:

• A very cute pair of maternity capris
• A pair of maternity jeans
• Six cotton t-shirts, all of which are very long and perfect for layering
• A bacon Whopper with cheese

The cost for this shopping FUNANZA?  $38.  Because the world is a very good place.  The only down side to my little shopping trip is that the maternity pants, which were such a very good steal at $5, are a tad too short.  In fact, all maternity jeans I tried on were too short.

It appears that the manufacturers of maternity pants are cruel, and unusual, because they make maternity pants in the following sizes: S, M, L, XL.  This means that if you’re someone like me who’s leggy and has junk in the trunk but not enough to justify hopping up a size, you’re out of luck.  It’s either swim around in pants that are too big or wear cute socks.

I’m going to throw myself on the mercy of my sewing-whiz mother in law and see if she wouldn’t mind sewing a cute inch or two of fabric around the cuffs of the pants to give them some extra length.  I’ll look like a That 70’s Show cast-off, but at least my ankles won’t freeze.

Wes says I impressed him with my frugality this weekend.  We’re determined to do the whole baby thing as economically as possible, as we figure this little buddy’s going to outgrow most of the things we buy right now anyway, so what’s the point in going hogwild over brand new super-awesome stuff?

We’re going used baby furniture (I refuse to look at shiny new cribs in catalogs and instead browse Craigslist), used stroller, used baby clothes, used toys, etc. all within the realm of safety and recalls.  The only new things we’re getting new are a carseat and crib mattress, because those are the things experts say you should never buy used.

Good thing those are the only two though, because those suckers are expensive!

True to form, I’ve left my blogging until late at night and now I’m tired and soft, like cheese left out on the counter too long.  You can try to scrape me onto a cracker if you want, but I can’t guarantee I won’t give you salmonella.

I don’t feel comfortable sitting back and watching as my face and body pudgify under the crushing weight of all the salty foods Squishy commands me to eat, however, so I’m stuck with every pregnancy book’s favorite exercise recommendations for pregnant women: walking and swimming.

Walking is fine in the summer for the most part.  Wes and I love walks.  Walks are fun!  During the winter, however, walks are awful.  Biting, freezing wind, frozen patches of black ice on sidewalks, hours of darkness enveloping most of the hours of the day like a depressing, horror-inducing fog.

As for swimming…?  Never have I mourned for my old home state (California) as I do now.  In California, my choices for swimming avenues were plentiful.  I could go swimming at the local lake, or at the pool in my Dad’s complex, or in the ocean, or at any number of community pools located just about everywhere.  Or, I could go to my old high school’s pool.  Pools everywhere!  For free!

Here, though?  Here, the pools that are affordable are outdoors and closed during the winter, which will do nothing to help me endure the cold winter months of pregnancy.  The pools that are indoors cost a pretty penny.  There’s a very nice fitness club down the street from where Wes and I live, which just so happens to have a very nice indoor pool, a world-class weight room, and all the amenities and classes you could ask for.

This very nice fitness club also comes with a very nice price tag, so imagine my crushing disappointment when I learned today that membership would cost far more than Wes and I will ever feel comfortable shelling out.  I must admit, I’m really pretty sad about the whole state of affairs.  I’d gotten all excited about the prospect of using my newly recovered energy swimming freestyle laps at the pool, watching my arms and shoulders get toned while my stomach grew huge.  Such a rosy image.

Now I’m stuck with a not-so-rosy image.  It’s not a good one, so I won’t even share it.  Just imagine a pale ball of dough with arms, legs, and my face.

And they wonder why America is getting so obese!  It’s because gyms hoard fitness and only dole it out to the rich and spendthrift.  The day I can afford to drop a fortune on access to a pool is the day I can afford my own frigging pool.