I hope this works. I wanted to share a video of Emmeline that Josh put together. If it doesn't work, just follow the link and watch it on youtube.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Announcing...
Emmeline Renee Krebs
Born May 7, 2009 at 2:58 pm. 7 lbs, 13 oz, 20 1/4 inches long.
Being a parent is wonderful! We are enjoying Emmeline so much. She is already 4 days old, and I can hardly believe I was supposed to still be very pregnant right now! God's timing is perfect; I can't imagine life without our sweet baby girl.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Stuck in the Middle of the Learning Curve
Before you experience the new parents' learning curve, you get to go through the first time pregnancy learning curve. I'm finding out all sorts of information that will be useful--next time around.
Here are a few things I've learned along the way:
When I first got pregnant I couldn't understand why people would ask me how I was feeling if they didn't really care about my answer. Now I know that it was because they knew how bad it was going to get. There I was telling them about how tired I felt, and they're thinking, "If you think that's bad, wait until you're still tired, but you can't even clip your own toenails to boot."
Second, books about pregnancy are good for cute drawings of your unborn baby, and for telling you how big they're getting and what sort of new body parts they're developing. But, for any other sort of advice, they're worthless. Apparently the people in those books live in some sort of dream world where you can miss work just to get some more sleep--because it's what's best for your baby--and you have the time and energy to cook yourself fabulously healthy, from scratch meals every night. Then again, if you really could miss work every time you felt like the baby wanted you to get some more sleep, then you probably could cook yourself fabulous meals every night, because you would be sleeping all the time.
And people tell me that every pair of new parents goes through the experience of going to the hospital for a false alarm. They may just be saying that to make me feel better, but at least I don't feel quite as embarrased about it this way.
Among other things, the trip taught me that labor and delivery nurses are not concerned about your privacy at all. Other nurses, if they tell you to undress, they at least leave the room while you're taking your clothes off. Labor and delivery nurses stand right there and watch. I finally got used to people seeing me naked, but now I have to get used to people watching me get naked. What's next?
I'll tell you what's next: I learned I don't like doctors who make guesses about things like when my child will be born. One medical expert says something like "You'll probably deliver in the next 48 hours," and of course that puts you on pins and needles, but then guess what happens? Nothing. So, to sum up, could the very highly paid medical professionals whose opinions I trust please not make random guesses about things like the birth of my child? If you tell me I will probably give birth tomorrow, please make sure you are darn sure about that first! Come on--doctors go to school for how many years? I don't think this is too much to ask of them.
I have learned how little I actually know about my own body. I've read the books and taken the classes, but it comes down to the simple fact that I've never experienced anything like this before, and honestly, I have no clue what's going on. I just hope I figure it out before the baby falls out! Okay, I actually am not worried about that. I'm trusting everyone who has said that yes, it does get more obvious what's happening when it is actually time to deliver the baby. But you know, then again, you hear these horror stories--but let's not think about that. That's why I don't allow myself to watch "I didn't know I was pregnant" on the Discovery channel.
Finally, I've learned that nothing makes you appreciate the baby growing inside of you quite like seeing your husband sitting on the couch telling you how left out he feels because he doesn't get to experience all of the little kicks and wiggle. When I see how much he would love to have that special connection with our daughter, it is a great reminder that pregnancy--even with all of its quirks--is indeed a blessing!
Here are a few things I've learned along the way:
When I first got pregnant I couldn't understand why people would ask me how I was feeling if they didn't really care about my answer. Now I know that it was because they knew how bad it was going to get. There I was telling them about how tired I felt, and they're thinking, "If you think that's bad, wait until you're still tired, but you can't even clip your own toenails to boot."
Second, books about pregnancy are good for cute drawings of your unborn baby, and for telling you how big they're getting and what sort of new body parts they're developing. But, for any other sort of advice, they're worthless. Apparently the people in those books live in some sort of dream world where you can miss work just to get some more sleep--because it's what's best for your baby--and you have the time and energy to cook yourself fabulously healthy, from scratch meals every night. Then again, if you really could miss work every time you felt like the baby wanted you to get some more sleep, then you probably could cook yourself fabulous meals every night, because you would be sleeping all the time.
And people tell me that every pair of new parents goes through the experience of going to the hospital for a false alarm. They may just be saying that to make me feel better, but at least I don't feel quite as embarrased about it this way.
Among other things, the trip taught me that labor and delivery nurses are not concerned about your privacy at all. Other nurses, if they tell you to undress, they at least leave the room while you're taking your clothes off. Labor and delivery nurses stand right there and watch. I finally got used to people seeing me naked, but now I have to get used to people watching me get naked. What's next?
I'll tell you what's next: I learned I don't like doctors who make guesses about things like when my child will be born. One medical expert says something like "You'll probably deliver in the next 48 hours," and of course that puts you on pins and needles, but then guess what happens? Nothing. So, to sum up, could the very highly paid medical professionals whose opinions I trust please not make random guesses about things like the birth of my child? If you tell me I will probably give birth tomorrow, please make sure you are darn sure about that first! Come on--doctors go to school for how many years? I don't think this is too much to ask of them.
I have learned how little I actually know about my own body. I've read the books and taken the classes, but it comes down to the simple fact that I've never experienced anything like this before, and honestly, I have no clue what's going on. I just hope I figure it out before the baby falls out! Okay, I actually am not worried about that. I'm trusting everyone who has said that yes, it does get more obvious what's happening when it is actually time to deliver the baby. But you know, then again, you hear these horror stories--but let's not think about that. That's why I don't allow myself to watch "I didn't know I was pregnant" on the Discovery channel.
Finally, I've learned that nothing makes you appreciate the baby growing inside of you quite like seeing your husband sitting on the couch telling you how left out he feels because he doesn't get to experience all of the little kicks and wiggle. When I see how much he would love to have that special connection with our daughter, it is a great reminder that pregnancy--even with all of its quirks--is indeed a blessing!
Monday, April 13, 2009
Belly Pictures
This is for my non-Facebooking readers. I don't want to leave you out of the fun! I just got my haircut, so I'm sorry to say I'm more photogenic than I was when I took these. Do me a favor and just try to picture me with better hair when you look at the pictures.
7 Months (that would have been March 25):
7 Months (that would have been March 25):
Week 33:
Friday, April 3, 2009
Molding Young Minds
I felt like taking a break from our regularly scheduled programming to share with you what is probably my favorite daycamp story of all time.
----------------------------------------------------
Back in my Cy-Fair Discovery College days, there was a kid named Andy in the acting class I worked in. Now, an acting class always brings an interesting variety of kids to daycamp, and Andy--a towheaded nine year old, who liked to wear sunglasses and black shirts, and who performed the worm for us in class--was no exception. He performed the worm several times actually; he got a good audience reaction when he did it, and actors love to please the crowd, you know.
Andy liked to fix his hair. No, he was not gay--more of the "metrosexual ladies man in training" type. He showed up one day with a fauxhawk which I of course complimented him on.
*side note*
I'm dating myself now--this was back when David Beckham was still a soccer player with hair, which he--like Andy--liked to fix. David Beckham was still a new commodity in America, which made him very popular, add to that the fact that he was British and "so dreamy", and it's no surprise that everything he did got copied by everyone else. When he decided he wanted the look of a mohawk but not the inconvenience of shaving the sides of his head, the phrase "fauxhawk" was born, and shortly thereafter it became a household word.
*now back to my story*
So, I told Andy I liked his fauxhawk, and he asked me, "What's a fauxhawk?" Well, I couldn't have one of my trendiest little students wandering around clueless about his own hairstyle, so I educated him. He took in the information and returned to his snack.
The next morning, Andy showed up again sporting his fauxhawk; he must have been pleased that it got a good crowd response the day before. Ruth, another daycamp worker who was not as well-versed in the ways of pop culture, unwittingly told Andy she liked his "mohawk". Andy turned to her with this jaded, worldly, "I can't believe you actually called this a mohawk" sort of look on his face, and he said to her, like she was so stupid for not knowing this already, "It's a fauxhawk." Then, without another word, he went quietly on his way.
I was so proud of him.
--------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------
Back in my Cy-Fair Discovery College days, there was a kid named Andy in the acting class I worked in. Now, an acting class always brings an interesting variety of kids to daycamp, and Andy--a towheaded nine year old, who liked to wear sunglasses and black shirts, and who performed the worm for us in class--was no exception. He performed the worm several times actually; he got a good audience reaction when he did it, and actors love to please the crowd, you know.
Andy liked to fix his hair. No, he was not gay--more of the "metrosexual ladies man in training" type. He showed up one day with a fauxhawk which I of course complimented him on.
*side note*
I'm dating myself now--this was back when David Beckham was still a soccer player with hair, which he--like Andy--liked to fix. David Beckham was still a new commodity in America, which made him very popular, add to that the fact that he was British and "so dreamy", and it's no surprise that everything he did got copied by everyone else. When he decided he wanted the look of a mohawk but not the inconvenience of shaving the sides of his head, the phrase "fauxhawk" was born, and shortly thereafter it became a household word.
*now back to my story*
So, I told Andy I liked his fauxhawk, and he asked me, "What's a fauxhawk?" Well, I couldn't have one of my trendiest little students wandering around clueless about his own hairstyle, so I educated him. He took in the information and returned to his snack.
The next morning, Andy showed up again sporting his fauxhawk; he must have been pleased that it got a good crowd response the day before. Ruth, another daycamp worker who was not as well-versed in the ways of pop culture, unwittingly told Andy she liked his "mohawk". Andy turned to her with this jaded, worldly, "I can't believe you actually called this a mohawk" sort of look on his face, and he said to her, like she was so stupid for not knowing this already, "It's a fauxhawk." Then, without another word, he went quietly on his way.
I was so proud of him.
--------------------------------------
Thursday, March 12, 2009
We do non-baby related things too!
Josh has been painting some furniture for me, and I wanted to show you some pictures of his handiwork, but I always forget to take pictures when I get home, so I'm giving up and writing anyways. He really has done a very good job--he made me a headboard for our bed (he took a picket fence and painted it barn red--it's very cute!) and he painted our desk green (he's going to stencil flowers on it for me too). It pays to have a handy husband. We realized that the only two pieces of furniture we own that we paid more than $100 for are our couch and our bed. Of course, we haven't bought curtains yet either (probably because they will cost us more than $100--are you sensing a trend here?).
It was a beautiful day here last Saturday so we went on a spur of the moment hiking trip at Percy Warner park. Everybody was there with their labradors, german shepherds, and golden retrievers. Yes, Percy Warner park is no place for yappy dogs. Josh said when we were through with the 3 (?) mile hike that I can now tell people that I hiked a 600 ft peak while I was 6 months pregnant wearing flip flops. I don't think I'll brag about the flip flops. That was an accident--I didn't know we were going to be hiking, so I didn't put on sneakers--and I started to regret my choice of footwear about halfway through.
And because I seem to enjoy writing three paragraphs at a time, here's some more news for you. I've had to cut back on the amount of news I read. I started paying alot more attention to current events when I started working, because I had the time and I was always sitting at the computer with internet access. Unfortunately, this hasn't exactly been good for me. Really, not everyone can handle being well informed. The more and more I know about what's going on in the world, the more pessimistic I get. Then, one day I read an article about some Russian scholar who said predicted the U.S. would fall apart by 2010 and Russia and China would become the new world powers. Now, every piece of bad news I read is just more evidence that we're all going to hell in a handbasket and pretty soon Russia will take over and no one will have clean towels anymore.*
It's a good thing I didn't marry a politician, because I am going to have to find some other way to fight the culture war--a way that doesn't involve me needing to know very much about current events and public policy. I know! I will have more than two children and I won't put any of them in public school. Yes, that will do for a start at least.
In the meantime--why doesn't anyone write about good news anymore? It's all death, dying, and despair. Journalists must be very unhappy people.
*I don't know how in my mind communism became equated with dirty towels. You can hazard a guess if you want to, but I think it might be safer to leave that one untouched.
It was a beautiful day here last Saturday so we went on a spur of the moment hiking trip at Percy Warner park. Everybody was there with their labradors, german shepherds, and golden retrievers. Yes, Percy Warner park is no place for yappy dogs. Josh said when we were through with the 3 (?) mile hike that I can now tell people that I hiked a 600 ft peak while I was 6 months pregnant wearing flip flops. I don't think I'll brag about the flip flops. That was an accident--I didn't know we were going to be hiking, so I didn't put on sneakers--and I started to regret my choice of footwear about halfway through.
And because I seem to enjoy writing three paragraphs at a time, here's some more news for you. I've had to cut back on the amount of news I read. I started paying alot more attention to current events when I started working, because I had the time and I was always sitting at the computer with internet access. Unfortunately, this hasn't exactly been good for me. Really, not everyone can handle being well informed. The more and more I know about what's going on in the world, the more pessimistic I get. Then, one day I read an article about some Russian scholar who said predicted the U.S. would fall apart by 2010 and Russia and China would become the new world powers. Now, every piece of bad news I read is just more evidence that we're all going to hell in a handbasket and pretty soon Russia will take over and no one will have clean towels anymore.*
It's a good thing I didn't marry a politician, because I am going to have to find some other way to fight the culture war--a way that doesn't involve me needing to know very much about current events and public policy. I know! I will have more than two children and I won't put any of them in public school. Yes, that will do for a start at least.
In the meantime--why doesn't anyone write about good news anymore? It's all death, dying, and despair. Journalists must be very unhappy people.
*I don't know how in my mind communism became equated with dirty towels. You can hazard a guess if you want to, but I think it might be safer to leave that one untouched.
Monday, March 2, 2009
3 Months Left!
I can hardly believe I'm on the last leg of the journey now. I'm encountering new obstacles and new blessings the bigger I get. I can no longer comfortably (or safely) shave my own legs. Josh offered to step in and help, but we're both pretty busy, so I'm wearing a lot of pants these days. Sitting in a folding chair is torture, which makes listening in sunday school much more difficult. On the other hand, Josh has become a very sweet mother hen: he does most of the housework at night and makes me lay on the couch and rest. For some reason I fight him on this almost every night--maybe the hormones are making me irrational. It's also fun to be pregnant enough so strangers notice. I get lots of attention now when I go out in public. And no, no one has touched my belly or told me their labor horror stories--that's probably why I'm still enjoying the attention so much.
Josh and I went to our first childbirth class last week. Most of the people in the class are yuppie couples who work for Vanderbilt (apparently it's a fluke that so many Vandy employees signed up for the same class). There was one hippie couple--he was a former wrestler and she looked like her clothes could have been made from hemp (I'm sure it was a natural fiber). The highlight of the class was the lady who said that the most wonderful thing about being pregnant was "the power of creation." I guess for her pregnancy is the ultimate power trip. There was one couple that was nice and down to earth, of course, Josh already knew them from work. "Ms. Cecil" (she is not even 30) teaches 5th grade at West End.
And...we registered for gifts. I'm very proud of how we did on our registry. We tried very hard to make sure it wasn't very long, and also had a wide variety of prices featured. Baby stuff is so expensive, if you're not careful you can end up with a registry where there aren't any presents under $50, and I'm not exagerrating. Whether we get any presents or not, I think just the act of registering for stuff is fun and special. One of the best parts of being pregnant (I think) is getting to plan for the baby. Josh may have a different opinion next week when we organize his things to make room for Emmie's clothes. Poor guy--he is already outnumbered and our baby girl isn't even here yet! He's very excited I know, but I'm not sure what he's going to do with two women in the house.
Josh and I went to our first childbirth class last week. Most of the people in the class are yuppie couples who work for Vanderbilt (apparently it's a fluke that so many Vandy employees signed up for the same class). There was one hippie couple--he was a former wrestler and she looked like her clothes could have been made from hemp (I'm sure it was a natural fiber). The highlight of the class was the lady who said that the most wonderful thing about being pregnant was "the power of creation." I guess for her pregnancy is the ultimate power trip. There was one couple that was nice and down to earth, of course, Josh already knew them from work. "Ms. Cecil" (she is not even 30) teaches 5th grade at West End.
And...we registered for gifts. I'm very proud of how we did on our registry. We tried very hard to make sure it wasn't very long, and also had a wide variety of prices featured. Baby stuff is so expensive, if you're not careful you can end up with a registry where there aren't any presents under $50, and I'm not exagerrating. Whether we get any presents or not, I think just the act of registering for stuff is fun and special. One of the best parts of being pregnant (I think) is getting to plan for the baby. Josh may have a different opinion next week when we organize his things to make room for Emmie's clothes. Poor guy--he is already outnumbered and our baby girl isn't even here yet! He's very excited I know, but I'm not sure what he's going to do with two women in the house.
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