My first niece, Miranda, was born this morning in Alabama, making Coraline a big cousin. I can’t wait for them to meet.
Miranda, 7.2 lbs., 18 inches
Expressing her ennui while her Abuela holds her
Elliott is giddy over his baby sister's arrival
Tag Archives: personal
Lucky 13: Our Engagement Story
Rich and I went on our first official date on July 25, 1997. We ate dinner at Garcia’s Mexican Restaurant (now Pelancho’s at Downtown West), went ice skating, saw the movie Contact, then talked until almost 4 in the morning, a date capped off by a kiss that I still remember to this day. That year, he missed spending my birthday with me because he was sent to Norfolk for a business trip. He missed my birthday the next year because he had to move to Chesapeake in order to keep his job. And so began our long-distance relationship.
My third visit to Chesapeake was for Valentine’s Day weekend 1999. We indulged in our usual routine, trying to make the most of our short time together. That Saturday night, Rich treated me to an extravagant dinner at the members-only Town Point Club in the Norfolk World Trade Center. Since his company’s offices were down the hall from the club, he’d gotten to know some of the staff and got permission to take me to dinner there.
We got dressed up for our romantic pre-Valentine’s Day dinner, me in my pretty purple sheath dress and Rich in the one suit he owned. Our server was outstanding, taking our orders for every course up front. The club was beautiful, with the kind of romantic ambiance you can only dream of for a romantic dinner. A trio played the harp, violin, and cello nearby. While I was enjoying myself, I noticed how fidgety Rich was. He went to the restroom before we’d even started eating. He kept complaining about how loud the chamber music was, that he could barely hear himself think. At this point, I was worried I was boring him, hence his fidgeting and inattention.
After finishing our entrees, our server asked if we were ready for dessert, which we’d ordered at the start of our meal. He placed a silver-domed platter in front of me and stepped back. Rich stood up and said, “I think I should serve this to you.” He lifted the silver dome to reveal a diamond engagement ring in a velvet box, with a rose on the tray beside it. He then got down on one knee, took my hand in his, and asked, “Patricia Rebeca Sanchez, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Stunned but deliriously happy, I said, “Yes, of course.” We kissed and hugged, and applause broke out. That’s when I noticed that not only had the chamber music ceased playing, but every other diner was watching us. All the waitstaff was lined up against the walls around the perimeter of the dining room. It was exactly like a scene out of a romantic movie, and infinitely more impressive and romantic than I ever would have thought Rich capable of being. He not only set but jumped over the bar that night.
It turns out that when Rich had said he was going to the restroom earlier he’d actually given our server the engagement ring. The server had then shared with everyone that there was going to be a proposal later in the evening. So everybody knew. Except me, of course.
Today is 13 years to the day since that wonderful, perfect night. things haven’t always been easy, or perfect. But we’ve weathered many storms together, as well as enjoyed all kinds of fun adventures and experiences. We’ve both significantly changed and grown, for the better, I believe. And we of course have our amazing daughter, Coraline, to show for it.
Thanks as always to Rich for being my best friend, lover, confidant, accomplice, and partner in crime. I couldn’t imagine it being any other way.
Taken on Valentine's Day 1999, the day after we got engaged.
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D-Day (Updated)
Song Lyric of the Day:
Under the table, nobody’s there / Under the ceiling, under the stairs / A funny feeling, my head is sleeping / I want you to come home
Today is a day I knew was coming for a while now, but that hasn’t made it any easier to face: Today is Coraline’s first day of daycare.
Until today, my mom has watched Coraline four days a week, with me being fortunate enough to be able to work from home one day a week. It’s been a wonderful arrangement — Rich and I know Coraline’s in great hands, Coraline gets to spend lots of time with her cousin Stephen, my dad is off on Fridays so she gets to be with both my parents, and I get a day where I get to watch my free-range baby tear around our basement while I work. But Rich and I decided a while back that Coraline should experience at least one day a week of daycare. That way she gets more socialization with kids her own age (although she’s always played well with other kids) and, God help me, gets needed exposure to germs. After months on a waiting list, we got the call last Tuesday that a spot had opened up for three days a week. We decided on two days and took Coraline to the daycare on Wednesday to meet her teachers and classmates. Within seconds of Rich setting her down, a little boy, W, gave Coraline his favorite book. After that, Coraline relaxed and set off to explore her new classroom. She enjoyed checking out the new toys, and at one pont was surrounded by three little boys, including W, who was resting his chin on his hands staring at her. It was too cute, although I know Rich would rather not have his daughter on the receiving end of googly eyes.
The timing of this spot opening up has been really fortuitous since my mom will be having knee-replacement surgery in the near future; we were going to be in need of an alternate child-care solution as I can’t work from home every day of the week. As it is, once Mom has the surgery, I’ll be working from home some, working at the office, and using my lunch breaks to take Mom to her physical therapy appointments. In light of that, knowing Coraline will be in daycare at least half the week is a huge relief.
Still, this is a big change for all of us, and it’s bittersweet. It’s a rite of passage of sorts, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be any easier to hand our baby off to strangers this morning. Experienced, credentialed strangers, but strangers nonetheless (at least for now). While my mom knew this was going to happen eventually, I know she’s going to miss having Coraline around those two days each week. But she understands why we’re doing it. My poor dad, on the other hand, was just devastated. I felt like a monster telling him, he was so crushed. I think he felt like we were taking away his little girl, that tiny chatterbox who runs to the door to greet him when he gets home from work every night and “tells” him about her day as only she can. He’s made peace with it now, but like Rich, Mom, Stephen, and myself, he’ll still have a little bit of an adjustment period. Good thing we live so close to each other.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put on my brave face and do my best not to cry.
UPDATE:
No tears on dropoff. She immediately ran off to make new friends. She’s going to be just fine. 🙂
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Dear Coraline: Month 16
Dear Coraline,
It’s hard to believe, but as of today, you, my crazy little monkey, turned 16 months old. At your most recent checkup, your belated 15-month well baby visit (your doctor was on vacation last month), you weighed in at an impressive 22.6 pounds and measured 30 1/2 inches tall. Your hair is as thick as ever, you have a mouth full of teeth (I think you’re only waiting on the last two), and you have a personality so big it’s hard to believe your little body can contain it.
Month 16 started off with you noticing you can toss your head to flip your hair out of your eyes (very baby emo), followed by your second Christmas, a day during which you celebrated with your entire family at both Abuela and Abuelo’s house and then Grandma and Grandpa’s house. You not only had a blast seeing everyone and dancing mosh-pit style to Christmas music with your cousins Stephen and Elliott, but you received lots of neat clothes and enough toys to stock an orphanage, some of which we still have yet to open precisely because you received so many.
Your vocabulary has grown leaps and bounds these last few weeks. In addition to “momma,” “poppa,” and “dada,” you can now say: grandpa, banana (pronounced “nana”), shoes, socks, dog, cheese, good, cake, more, no, milk, uh-oh, book, ball, Elmo, apple, and dinosaur. You learned apple, milk, more, and cake this last Saturday alone; your abuela heard you say “dinosaur” today thanks to your fondness for the show Dinosaur Train. Your favorite word these days seems to be “Elmo.” You love watching Sesame Street, particularly the Elmo’s World segment, and you constantly try to steal my iPad because you know you can play Elmo Loves ABCs on it and watch Elmo videos on YouTube. You are very expressive and decisive, saying “no” to let us know when you don’t want a certain food, if you don’t want to wear that particular pair of shoes, or if you don’t want a certain book read at bedtime. You love saying “shoes” because, well, you love shoes. You’ve tried putting your cousin Stephen’s shoes on his feet for him and your poppa once saw you putting your tiny foot in one of his very large shoes. One day you even picked out a pair of shoes and asked your poppa to put those on you instead of the ones you were already wearing. On Saturday you not only picked out the Dr. Seuss T-shirt you wanted to wear, you also shot down both my shoe suggestions in favor of your shiny black patent-leather pair. And you were right — they really did add a little extra oomph to your outfit. (Ah, sweetie, some day you and I will have fun shoe shopping. On sale, of course. Remember what I tell you when we run errands: We shop sales in this family.)
Your love of reading continues to develop, with you enjoying a pre-bedtime ritual of scouring your bookshelves (and floor) in search of the perfect bedtime story. You’ll hunt high and low until you find the books you’re looking for, hand it to me, then turn around and back up to me so I can pick you up and put you in my lap. Your favorites these days are still Good Night, Dora, Lull-a-bye, Little One, Curious George Visits the Zoo, and Baa Baa Bedtime. I’m pretty sure if you had a full vocabulary, you’d be able to recite them by heart. You also have a nice cache of books downstairs in the den, which you sit and “read” to yourself or occasionally ask your poppa or I to read to you.
Your comprehension of things is something to behold now. You understand so much of what we say, and you are an incredibly fast learner. You are also quite the little ham, walking around with your arms behind your back, military-style (thanks to mimicking Stephen) and, as of a few days ago, walking around with your arms folded over your head. You know when you’re being funny and always check to see if we’re watching you, doing your patented slow-mo eye roll where you don’t move your head at all, only your eyes. You’ve also taken to smirking while doing your little eye roll, probably because you know it will make us laugh.
You’re growing and learning new things at the speed of light. Your energy knows no bounds, as demonstrated at your friend Danica’s fifth birthday party at Tataru’s gym this past weekend. (I spy gymnastics classes in your future.) The best part of each workday for me is coming home and watching you play and playing with you in our den before you wind down for bedtime. On the nights I put you to bed (Poppa and I alternate nights), I always make a point to tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of you for being such a smart, sweet, amazing little girl. Then I thank you, because I’m so honored to be your mommy. And I always will be.
love,
Mommy
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This Working Mother’s Typical Day
Song Lyric of the Day:
No one’s gone in vain / Here is where you’ll stay / ‘Cause life has been insane but / Today has been OK / Today has been OK
Emiliana Torrini / “Today Has Been OK“
In a perfect world, one where I had better hair, bigger boobs, no mortgage, and was a published novelist, I wouldn’t have to work a day job. However, since I live in a world where humidity turns me into Roseanne Roseannadanna, padded bras are my friends, I have to pay for the roof over my head, and I haven’t managed to finish the fifth chapter of one of my books for I don’t know how long, I do have to work a day job. Thankfully, it’s a job I love working with a team of coworkers I love for a boss I love. I’m also incredibly fortunate that my boss allows me to work from home one day a week, which affords me some extra time with Coraline (although it’s great that she’s so good at entertaining herself since I am in fact working even though I’m home with her.)
So what is a typical work day like for me?
7:20-7:30AM
Wake up. Send the dogs out. Start Coraline’s morning bottle warming up. Prep the dogs’ bowls. Let the dogs in to eat. Pack Coraline’s diaper bag and bottle/food cooler for the day. Catch approximately four minutes of Morning Express with Robin Meade on Headline News while I drink my OJ and Coraline’s bottle finishes steaming. Grab Coraline’s bottle and go wake her up (usually with Rich).
7:45AM
Feed Coraline her bottle (some mornings it’s Rich). Discuss what our respective days look like. Hers: Hanging out with Abuela, playing/wrestling with cousin Stephen, and eating as many Goldfish as humanly possible. Mine: Working.
7:55-8:10AM
Dress Coraline for the day. Let her run around our bedroom while we get dressed for the day; she usually heads straight for my nightstand. Let Coraline brush her own teeth (it’s easier than trying to do it ourselves, and really, she’s not that bad at it). Fight to get toothbrush away from Coraline (downside to letting her brush her teeth: getting the toothbrush back).
8:10-8:20AM
Frantically grab all our assorted laptop bags, backpacks, shoulder bags, lunch bags, my purse, and diaper bag to get the car loaded. Bundle Coraline up (it is winter now, after all) and drive to my mom’s house.
8:35-8:45AM
Drop Coraline off at Mom’s house.
9AM
Get to work. Eat a granola bar or dry cereal for breakfast (yes, dry). Down my first of many glasses of water. Dive into email and start on my first work task.
9:30AM
Cave and put on my sweater since it’s COLD in the office.
10AM
Tune IPTV to Supernatural on TNT for background noise.
10:17AM
Steal a glance at Jensen Ackles.
10:43AM
Wonder how Coraline is doing and wish she was with me. Preferably not in my cubicle at work.
11:30-1PM
Grab a short lunch at my desk if I’m really busy. If I’m lucky, one day a week I manage to get away for an hour, just me and my book.
Post-Lunch
Call Mom to find out how Coraline’s doing. The usual: She resists napping early in the day, is eating well, is busy playing with Stephen, and will hopefully nap later that afternoon.
1PM-4PM
Listen to Desperate Housewives and Grey’s Anatomy on Lifetime while I work.
2PM
Find either chocolate or a soda as a pick-me-up from my post-lunch coma.
3:30PM
Mind starts to wander since it’s late in the afternoon.
4:15PM
Rally and manage to refocus on work.
5:15-6PM
Leave work. When exactly is determined by how short/long a lunch I took and whether or not Rich is stuck in a meeting (we carpool most days).
5:45-6:15PM
Pick up Coraline from Mom and Dad’s house. Bug Stephen for a hug and kiss. Stay for dinner on occasion.
6:15-6:40PM
Get home. One of us takes Coraline inside and puts her in her pack-‘n’-play in the living room. The other one grabs whatever bags they can manage to carry inside then lets the dogs out and gets their bowls prepped. Dogs are let in to eat and we prepare dinner.
6:45PM
If Coraline needs dinner, we feed her upstairs in her high chair and eat at the dining room table with her. Fight to keep the dogs at bay since Coraline loves to throw them her food.
7PM
All three of us head downstairs to the basement den. Coraline runs around playing while Rich and I eat dinner. If she had an early dinner at Mom’s house she grazes off our plates.
7:30-8:15PM
Coraline gets prepped for bedtime. Rich and I alternate: I’ll handle bedtime, he’ll handle any overnight wakeups. The next night, we switch. Tonight, I handled bedtime so he’s on overnight duty.
Post-Coraline’s Bedtime
Wash dishes, do laundry, file papers, take out recycling — do whatever needs to be done around the house that night. Get nagged at by Rich to RELAX. Take a shower at some point.
10PM
Give dogs their dinner.
10:30PM
Steam-clean and prep Coraline’s bottles for Mom’s house the next day. Pack any food and drinks in her cooler.
10:45PM
Find a few minutes for some downtime before getting ready for bed. Usually involves watching a few minutes of whatever I’ve got on the DVR in the upstairs living room. Update blog if I remember/am motivated. Get the dogs to go out one last time before setting the house alarm.
11:30PM-Midnight
Get in jammies. Brush teeth. Get in bed.
6AM
Curse the dogs and their clicky nails on the hardwood floor. Try to tune their clicking out to get some more sleep.
6:30AM
Curse the cats for fighting in the hallway right outside our bedroom door.
7:20-7:30AM
Wake up and do it all over again.
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O, Migraine
Song Lyric of the Day:
Take a picture you could never re-create / Write a song / Make a note / For the lump that sits inside your throat / Change the locks, change the scene / Change it all but can’t change what we’ve been
Atlas Genius / “Trojans“
Well, the post I was going to write for tonight will have to wait. Two days into the new year, and I have my first migraine. What started suddenly this afternoon as a really bad headache has steadily worsened throughout the day. I’m crossing my fingers that it’s gone by the time I wake up tomorrow morning.
This migraine is precisely why this song has been stuck in my head for the last few hours. Hammering in my head, indeed.
*And let me add that I am positively GIDDY that Garbage is releasing a new album this year. GIDDY.
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Holy Hell, It’s 2012
Song Lyric of the Day:
See I’m a young soul in this very strange world / Hoping I could learn a bit ’bout what is true and fake / But why all this hate? Try to communicate / Finding trust and love is not always easy to make
Well, it’s a new year. The year 2012, to be exact. I’m not sure I should set new year’s resolutions for myself this year, especially after reading last year’s new year’s resolutions post and making mental note of how little I actually accomplished. So what did I accomplish? I did well at work, helped keep a roof over my family’s heads, and, most importantly, was the best mom I could be to Miss Baby herself, Coraline. I also did the best I could — as I always do — to be a good person. Which, in my case, at least, has for various reasons led to an excluded, oftentimes lonely existence. It is what is is. I am who I am. I’ve tried in the past to try to be what others expect or want me to be, and it wasn’t fair. To myself, or to them. So I’ll continue to just be myself and hope for the best. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel, right? This year, I hope to find that light. I need to find that light. If not for myself, then for her. Here’s to a great year.
Miss Baby deep in thought on New Year's Day 2012.
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From Bad to Sicker
Song Lyric of the Day:
Waiting for a ride in the dark / The night city grows / Look and see her eyes, they glow
M83 / “Midnight City“
I survived my MRI yesterday without freaking the hell out, which was a very real concern for me. The only other time I’ve ever gotten an MRI was a few years ago to check out my right hip. My feet were tied together to keep my hips aligned, which contributed significantly to the feeling that I was going to suffocate in that sleek, too-narrow metal tube; the technician actually had to remind me repeatedly to just breathe. Which is why I asked my doctor to prescribe something for me this time around. He gave me a benzodiazapine tablet, which was supposed to work as an anti-anxiety med. I took it an hour before my appointment like I was supposed to, but other than feeling a wee bit dizzy, I didn’t feel any more relaxed or prepared to be shoved into that claustrophobic metal coffin. But lo and behold, the pill worked its magic right when it was supposed to (in tandem with a towel over my eyes), and I didn’t freak out during my 17 1/2 minutes of scans. I only know exactly how many minutes because the technician announced how long each scan was going to be: 1, 3, 1, 2 1/2, 5, 2 1/2, 2 minutes. Which made me think of that scene in Clue where they count the bullets.
One Plus Two Plus Two Plus One
Clue
— MOVIECLIPS.com
While I should hear from my doctor in a couple days regarding the MRI results, right now it’s Coraline I have on the brain. After seeming, once again, to start to be on the mend from this awful stomach bug she’s had since Saturday, the diarrhea returned last night and she woke up even sicker today. Rich managed to get her to drink almost four ounces when she woke up, the most she’s drunk in one feeding in days, which she then promptly threw up in her bedroom. And in the kitchen. And in our bedroom. I called the pediatrician’s office again as soon as I dropped her off at my mom’s (I had to be in the office today) and left a message explaining how we’re more concerned than ever about her getting dehyrdrated. The nurse promptly called me back and told me to bring Coraline in again. So I’ll be leaving work early today to do just that. Poor Coraline is beyond miserable at this point, as are Rich and I from worrying about her. Even a couple of days ago, she was still smiling despite being sick. Now she’s almost letharghic and not herself at all. Any healing thoughts you can send her way would be greatly appreciated.
Coraline doing her best to stay hydrated with water and apple juice on Saturday
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The Barfing Baby and the Brain Scan
Song Lyric of the Day:
I want you to take over control / Take over control
Afrojack (featuring Eva Simons) / “Take Over Control“
Holy cow, it’s been more than two weeks since I last updated. And now it’s mid-November. Holy hell. Anyhoo. So what’s been happening of late? Poor Coraline woke up with a fever Saturday morning, produced some of the worst diarrhea on the face of the earth, and threw up. And that’s been going on since then. Well, the vomiting, anyway. Her fever cleared up by Saturday afternoon, but after she threw up again on Sunday night, we decided it was time to take her to the doctor, especially since our friends put the fear of rotavirus in us. To be fair, we thought Coraline’s symptoms sounded a lot like rotavirus, too, after reading up on it. But the pediatrician put our minds at ease yesterday. Apparently, if it was rotavirus (which Coraline was vaccinated against), the vomiting and diarrhea would essentially be nonstop, which is why so many kids who get it wind up hospitalized because of dehydration. Miss Baby just has a really nasty stomach bug, one that has made her throw up on me not once, not twice, but five times now. That’s in addition to other, non-Mommy-hitting vomit, including waking up covered in it. So it’s been a pretty miserable few days around our house. At least I already had yesterday scheduled as a day off, which made taking her to the doctor that much easier. Sure, it wasn’t the fantasy day off I had planned (house projects completed! laundry done! desk excavated! holiday shopping!), but I was happy to be around and provide some comfort to my sick baby. Even though she was near inconsolable last night. Thankfully, Rich had the magic touch and got her to settle down and finally go to sleep. Now if we could just get her to drink some Pedialyte. Because so far, Coraline is not a fan.
As I write this, Miss Baby is upstairs napping and my mom’s on the way over to sit with her while I walk over to my doctor’s office for an MRI. That’s right, I’m finally getting the ol’ noggin scanned. Those of you who have been reading this blog (hi, everybody!) for the last three years or so know that I’ve had some issues with overheating. As in, I overheat for no apparent reason, including at least two instances where I ended up throwing up (wow — lots of vomit references in today’s post. Sorry about that). I’ve basically lived with it the last three years or so, including unbearably hot summers where my Xterra’s AC wasn’t working. I finally reached my breaking point, though, about three weeks ago. It was a Wednesday when I was working from home, and I had to run out with Coraline on my lunch break. As I was buckling her into her carseat, I started sweating. I was wearing a thin T-shirt and my flimsy, unlined windbreaker. Oh, and it was 45 degrees at the time. I called my doctor later that day to explain why I wanted a physical, including getting my thyroid tested. I mean, it had to be my thyroid, right? Two 24-hour urine sample collections and a lot of bloodwork later, my doctor ruled out the thyroid as well as pheochromocytoma and carcinoid syndrome, which is what the urine tests were for. Which put us back at square one and the scheduling of an MRI. At this point, I’m not sure what I’m more afraid of: the MRI showing something or it not showing something. Fingers crossed that if the MRI does show something, though, that it is at least treatable. Because this overheating — and the extreme, frigid cold I feel when not overheated — is about to drive me crazy. I shouldn’t be sweating when I’m doing next to nothing and when it’s so cold out I should be wearing a heavy coat instead of the thin shirts I can tolerate. Here’s hoping I get some answers soon, whether it’s from this MRI or other, as yet unscheduled and unforeseen medical tests. I’m tired of being a walking medical mystery.
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Tangent
Song Lyric of the Day:
Sorry if I don’t see you / Mind me if my eyes cross you / Keep in mind I’m not here / I’m in a different zone
So I managed to fall off the face of the earth again, didn’t I? Last time I posted, it was Coraline’s first birthday. And, yes, I am still working on her 1st birthday letter (as well as her 13-month letter) since I got sidetracked not only by planning her birthday party but by an accompanying very large, very involved photography project. A project which I also have yet to finish. Story of my life, no?
Admittedly, I turned into a party-planning momzilla when it came to Coraline’s first birthday party — it. had. to. be. perfect. But her party went off without a hitch, and she had a blast, as did our family and friends who attended. Once I make some more progress with the aforementioned photography project, I can write a post about Coraline’s party. And some of the other stuff that’s gone on in the meantime, like an awesome visit from my best friend, Caren, who just so happens to be Coraline’s godmother. Caren, who along with Rich, got me to agree to an 11-mile bike ride around the Cades Cove Loop. A ride which I not only tried but completed. That’s right — I, a part-part-part-part-part-time biker, survived an 11-mile bike ride. My ass, on the other hand, is another story. (Dear Santa, Please bring me bike shorts for Christmas. Thanks!)
You know, all this stuff lately made me realize that a lot of the really prolific mommybloggers, the ones who earn money and free products from what they write, do not hold full-time outside jobs. I have a full-time job outside the home and only one child and can barely find the time to post on a regular basis. Which I think is why a stay-at-home mom with three kids can post however many times a day. I’m amazed by the moms who work outside the home (including one particular co-worker) who manage to blog as much as they do. I imagine all of those productive bloggers are also fueled by a crapload of coffee and quite possibly go on next to no sleep. I, on the other hand, am a total whore for my sleep, so blogging be damned. If I don’t get at least six hours, I’m not really functional. And only six hours is really pushing it. Well, that was an odd little side tangent, wasn’t it? See, that’s what happens when I don’t get enough sleep.
Now to get to bed, try to get at least 7 1/2 hours of sleep, and try to remember to blog again tomorrow.
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