My Last Hurrah!

At my 27 week prenatal appointment, my doctor grounded me from travel. So I pleaded and managed to squeeze in one final getaway, for Sean and Willa's sake, mostly. Dad, Paula, Margaret, Chris, Sean, Willa, Birdie, and I met up in Port Aransas for a short weekend at a friend's beachfront condo. (Thanks to Paula.) As soon as we got there, I began to understand my doctor's concerns. I am not only pregnant, afterall, but very pregnant, and I was feeling that way for the first time. The heat index was 105 degrees, and here I was, toting my barefoot toddler through the hot sand, covered in saltwater, sand, and sweat. The seaweed was everywhere, which made it tough to cool off in the water. But on the upside, there was plenty of cool air pumping through the free condo and extra, happy hands to help with Willa. And my dad cooked 3 delicious meals each day, including all of his specialties. It was a good time spent with family, and more than anything, I'm glad we took that one last trip before our own little trio becomes a quintet.

A Deck of My Dreams

Here is another one of my Polyvore compilations. These are objects of inspiration for my nearly-complete back deck. The fabric swatches represent some of the cushions I am having made for my outdoor furniture. (By the way, Reprodepot fabrics are looking great these days, and they still have really reasonable prices.) I LOVE this table from CB2, but these times call for fiscal responsibility, so I am going to have somebody copy it. (Actually, my dad offered to weld the base for me, so I'll just need to have a teak top made. Oh, and a couple of matching benches. You still in, Dad?) I may eventually splurge on the orange Air Chairs. I have wanted these for several years. Really, years. I remember the first time I set my eyes on them, I was browsing the Internet in my old office in the original store. Of course, now they come with arms, which proves that good things come to those who wait. Sean mentioned that he would like a smaller grill, and this one's a classic. The pretty decanter and glasses are another thing I think I could recreate with some thrift-store glassware, a ball of jute, a hot glue gun, and Sandy's crafting expertise. The deer is actually called a Bambisitter and it is intended to be a seat for a youngster. I know it's impractical and assume it's very uncomfortable, but it looks good with the rest of my picks. So if Sean wanted to try out his new workshop, he could certainly whittle it. Well, this was fun, and it is always helpful to have a plan before starting to decorate. And if ever I am tempted to settle for mediocre outdoor decor, I have this image to remind me of the things I am holding out for.

The Hot Rod

For the past 8 years, my dad has been diligently working on rebuilding a 1932 Ford Coupe. It has been in a hundred pieces in his workshop for so long, I had forgotten what it was supposed to look like. But this past weekend, he took his prized hot rod for a test drive. It still needs a flashy paint job, but we're just so glad to see it back in one piece. And for Dad, so deservingly, to enjoy the fruit of his labor. Judging from the look on his face, the coupe seems to be running beautifully. A coat of paint and a toddler seat, and he'll be set!

Pobrecita

It all started that Monday with a high fever. Then a doctor's visit determined that an ear infection was the culprit. As instructed, I began alternating Children's Tylenol and Motrin for her fever and discomfort, and force-feeding her the dreaded Amoxicillin three times daily. My friends warned me about this seemingly sugary panacea and the disdain it summons in even the mildest-tempered of kids. And it's true, I've never seen Willa put up such a fight. The moment I squirted a little bit of it in her mouth, she thrusted her tongue forward, determined to push all of it right back out. When I did finally manage to get it past her tongue, she threw her head back and screamed. An awful gurgle ensued, a last ditch effort to block it from going down. And then she choked on it. This happened with each dose.

As a kid, I also hated to take my medicine. I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but because a good blogger is an honest blogger, here it goes. I can remember throwing myself onto the floor in a kicking, arm-flailing tantrum over a single dose of antibiotic, probably Amoxicillin. My mom is a softy, so she didn't really fight me too much. But my dad, on the other hand, devised a clever plan to scare me into submission. He told me that if I refused to take my medicine (orally,) he would drive me to the hospital and have a doctor give it to me in the form of a shot. I took him up on his threat, and he drove me to the hospital. From there, however, he was stumped. We sat in the parking lot for a while as my bewildered father wondered how on earth he managed to get duped by a five year old. After composing himself, he drove me back home, defeated.

So back to my little pobrecita...The antibiotic caused diarrhea and diaper rash (pretty common) and an allover body rash (not so common.) It was not an allergic reaction, the doctor assured us, unless her lips and tongue swelled. So we were to continue the antibiotic for the full ten days. Her appetite had virtually vanished. (All she would eat were Cheerios.) And her once chubby thighs were growing visibly thinner. She even developed a little congestion in her chest. But by day seven, it looked as if the worst of it was behind us. The fever, congestion, and rash had all but disappeared. Then, yesterday, the rash came back with a vengeance. A bigger, redder, hotter version of it. And it was covering her, from her sweet, plump cheeks to her precious, tiny toes. It was a penicillin allergy, after all. And I, her mother and protector, had been feeding it for eight miserable days. We were prescribed a second antibiotic, Azithromycin, which will continue to fight the infection. But the rash, we will just have to wait out. There's lots of good news, though. The rash doesn't seem to bother Willa near as much as it does me. The new medicine must not taste as bad and is only administered once a day. And her appetite has returned, so we're working on filling back out those thighs.

Hence, I've reached another conclusion on my maternal journey. I will not always be able to protect her. I will be faced with many decisions along the way in which the answers are not clear. I will make some wrong choices. And it will never get any easier. Motherhood is a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Electra

This evening, we went to the ranch to have tacos with my Dad and Paula. I'm pretty sure my dad used the tacos as bait so that we would bring Willa out for a visit. He can't get enough of her. Just look at the expression on his face.
Paula took Willa inside the barn to see the horses. Here, Willa meets her very own horse, Electra, for the first time. They were both a little cautious and shy...
...but warmed up to each other in no time. Paula even helped Willa mount Electra for a quick snapshot and a taste of what is to come. This was a proud moment for Paula.
Electra sniffed Willa, and Willa patted her nose. The girls were fast friends.
Willa helped Paula feed Electra some hay. The reason she looks so pensive must be because she is wondering why I am always telling her that sort of thing is "yucky." (Grass. dirt, bugs.) Electra seemed to enjoy it very much.