Baby Kerr

28 weeks

2011-11-09T19:45:00.001-08:00

From Dad…
So, my little dearest daughter, I’d like to take a moment to talk about the workings of the world. You see, I tend to forget things. I’m a little absent-minded, and this state of being has been drastically enhanced lately, with managing a start-up and rearranging the house. But your mother keeps me in line. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be all over the place, completely up inside my head, and neglectful of the many vital things necessary for a good, full life. Like family. Down time. Health and wellness. Your mother has a way of keeping work in the work box and home and family as sacred. We should all thank her for this. Your mother is a saint. Let’s just get that understood right now. She is sugar and spice and everything nice—the things that little girls (which includes you, my dear) are made of.

When I first met your mother, she was just finishing up college and had the whole world before her. It was her time to grow and shine. It’s been an amazing/fun/powerful time watching her grow and bloom, as we’ve learned how to finally wear the grown-up pants and live as adults. This whole parenthood thing will do that to you. And your arrival, my little sweetness, will be one of the great episodes in this epic—for her to finally have a daughter, to relate woman to woman in a way that no other relationship can bring her. Mothers and daughters can have their struggles, sure, and their little competitions, as can fathers and sons. And all parents with their children. And siblings with one another. It’s part of the way we learn to be human beings. But there’s something special about mothers and daughters, and something special about you and her. I already love watching you grow together and you haven’t even arrived yet. And when you’re finally here, I know there will be so many more stories to tell, and to hear, and to live. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom…
Wow. We are already at 28 weeks and into the 3rd trimester. You will be here before we know it. The more and more I feel you move around in there the more anxious I am to meet you. Each day you seem to get stronger and stronger. I love trying to guess what body part of yours I’m playing with. Is it a foot, an elbow, a knee? I wonder if you will have blue eyes or brown. I thought for sure Braeden would have brown eyes since your dad’s eyes are brown but he got my blue eyes. I look forward to seeing you for the first time. I remember that moment with Braeden. It was one of the most incredible moments of my life when I saw him for the first time. To have someone in your tummy for 9 plus months and then finally be face to face with them is amazing. I look forward to that moment with you.

Speaking of Braeden, he already knows your name and how to say it. He loves to lift up my shirt and say "hello baby" and put it back down and say "goodnight baby". He enjoys laying his head on my belly to give you lots of love and snuggles. He loves to be in your room. He gathers all of his favorite books and reads (pretends to read) them in your room. I have a feeling he will love to read and sing to you. Be well in there my little one.

27 weeks

2011-11-04T12:47:00.000-07:00

From Dad…
Well here we are again. The start of the third trimester. The opening curtain for the Third Act, in which the drama unfolds to climax and resolution. The audience awaits with bated breath. Like the start of the third period of a hockey game. Where the action really heats up. But to tell the truth I really don’t know anything about hockey—there’s some ice and a puck and some sticks and once in a while there’s a beat down—but I do know this: we’re really starting to feel your presence around here. You are starting to kick and move around quite a bit. Your big brother has learned to say your name, and says hi and bye to your mother’s belly already. We’ve got your crib and your changing table all set up, and your mother is ready to line your walls with storybooks. The futon is all set up in you room as well, and ready for us to take naps alongside you (if, of course, you’ll allow us this). So in short, we’re getting there. Slowly but surely. Other spaces in the house are still stacked with boxes and have yet to be arranged, but your room is pretty squared away. Your cousin Austin had a great time rolling around on the futon last weekend, and it appeared that he approved of your room. So here we are, awaiting the face-off to start the third period. The curtain is about to go up. The orchestra is tuning. And you, my sweet daughter, are being well, staying warm, and happily cooking.

From Mom…
It has been such a lovely week here at the Kerr house. It has been busy but definitely nice. On Tuesday our dear friend Gayla came by for an afternoon visit. You don’t know Gayla yet but you will meet her on your birthday and I know you will love her. I met Gayla when your big brother was born. She was our labor and delivery nurse. Well, this time around Gayla will be our Doula. She is amazing at what she does and she is incredibly knowledgeable when it comes to women and birth. I am so happy that she will be here to help with introducing you to the world.

Wednesday morning we had our yearly family photo shoot with our friend Maggie. You will get to know Maggie as you get older. She has been taking pictures for us since your dad and I got engaged. You will also love Maggie. Then, on Wednesday evening I finally took our first prenatal yoga class. I have been meaning to get into this class for a while but I have been procrastinating. It was amazing. It was so nice to relax and stretch and prepare my body for your arrival. I have heard amazing things about prenatal yoga and how beneficial it is when it comes time for the big day.

I hope you well in there my little one. You seem to be doing great with all your pokes and jabs. I love that I can now start to feel different parts of your little body. I don’t know if they are feet, elbows, knees, or hands but they are already adorable to me. Be well in there sweat pea.

26 weeks

2011-10-28T13:21:00.000-07:00

From Dad…
First of all, an apology. We missed last week. Things have gone a little supernova nuts around here as we desperately try to get settled in, both for you and for our new office space and all that good stuff. We haven’t been all that good at carving out space and time to sit and reflect, mostly because we’re trying to create a nice cozy space for you and your arrival.

Speaking of cozy, sometimes your mother wants so badly for everything to be right for you that I think maybe once in a while she looks too hard at how small our little house is. It’s cozy. Really. It’s old, and it’s got its little quirks and issues, but your room is coming together, and although it’s got its tight spots, I think it’s all going to come together nicely. Everything is going to be all right. Or better than all right. You’re gonna love it. You and your mother are going to be two peas in a pod in there. But in the meantime you have to help your mother a little bit and take it easy on her. She’s taking a lot on right now. She spent the whole evening last night painting your room by herself. Two complete coats. Textbook. And she did a brilliant job. And before you go yelling at your deadbeat father for not helping paint the room, just know that I had my hands full trying to get other things settled in the house. And when your mother gets her determined face on, I know better than to get in the way of her progress.

So your room is just about ready. And it looks great. But don’t let that rush you. All things in time. For now, just be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom…
Since Halloween is just around the corner I figure it is an appropriate time to talk about fear. Also, I just got done watch the TV show “The Office” which ended its latest episode with a little speech about fear. I would tell you about it but it may be a bit too much for your tiny ears. It was pretty hilarious though. But in all seriousness I think it is important to talk about fear. I am definitely guilty at times when it comes to letting fear get in the way of my decision-making and clarity of thought. Lately, I have fears that don’t let me rest at night. You see, we have decided to move our bedroom into the basement so you and your brother have your own space on the main floor. It has been really nice having that extra space but I sometimes worry about your brother when it’s time for bed. I am not used to being on another level of the house at nighttime. I have fears about someone breaking in or your brother sleepwalking, so on and so on. I have to constantly remind myself though that I cannot let fear play a role in certain decisions I make in my life.

One very important decision we have made regarding your birth especially cannot be fogged by fear. Your brother was born via cesarean and we have decided that even though I had a cesarean I am going to have a VBAC with you, vaginal birth after cesarean. When I first learned of this option I immediately went to all the fearful things that could happen. I put the fear aside though and educated myself about VBACs. I have read stories and talked to women who have had amazing VBAC experiences. We have also set ourselves up with an amazing Certified Nurse Midwife and her incredible birthing team. I came to realize that I was fearful of things that only have a .2% to 1.5% chance of even happening. The number one piece of advice these women gave me was to throw fear out the window and be confident in the decisions that you are making. Fear really does have the capability to stall you, in life and in labor. We are going to do this little one and I know we will rock at it. I got your back and I will not let fear get in the way.

24 weeks

2011-10-14T15:13:00.000-07:00

From Dad…
My dear little one, welcome to Crazy Town. It seems that we’ve found ourselves in a perpetual state of quasi-moving these last couple of weeks, as we’re rearranging our whole house for your arrival. I keep mentioning this moving/rearranging event each week, mostly because it is sort of an everlasting job around here. We are so looking forward to all of this coming together. After this Tuesday we’ll be in a plush state of soft coziness downstairs (“wall-to-wall carpet” is such a great oh-so-seventies notion), and your mother and I can begin the long process of unpacking all our boxed-up gear and settling in. I’ve been traveling a fair bit lately which has added to the feeling of being untethered from the ground. And from reality. And from you and your mother. But you seem to be growing nicely and beautifully and that is exciting to see.

Big brother is attacking the English language with full force lately, and peppering his own jabbering Braeden-speak with actual words. It’s a lot of fun to watch. I can’t wait to hear you guys chatting away with one another in your own made-up language. But as I think about it, on the other hand the two of you being able to communicate openly without us knowing what you’re saying to one another is probably a bad idea. I can already see you hatching some diabolical plan. If you’re anything like your mother (or her brothers) you’ll be thinking up all kinds of fun things to try to get your brother to do. Things that involve climbing to high precarious points. Or setting traps for your parents. Or hiding things. So on second thought, no made-up languages. Not unless it’s registered with Google Translate. Then maybe so. If there’s a smartphone app available. Cross-platform friendly. With no ads. And free. HyperText Markup Lanugage before any made up toddler one. Deal? But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom…
Welcome to Crazy Town indeed, little one. We are finally fixing up the downstairs to get more space around here for everyone. Last weekend was spent painting the walls. This weekend will be spent moving everything out of the basement so that carpet can be installed on Monday. Every weekend after that will be spent doing something fabulous I am sure, in order to prepare for your arrival. I am just happy to finally be getting my energy back so I can help out as much as possible around here. When I was pregnant with your brother, it was a very easy problem-free pregnancy, but this time around it seems my gallbladder has decided to have a little fun with me. Looks like I've got some stones rolling around in there. It has left me with a lot of pain and fatigue for a few months, but now with a specific diet, I am getting back at it. As long as you are all good in there, little one, then I think we are good to go.

On top of that, your dad's post has me thinking about brothers and sisters and the trouble they get into. Last week I wrote about trying not to worry so much… but brothers and sisters and the trouble they get into makes me worry. This is something I know a lot about. Thanks to me and my brothers, my parents were left with holes in their walls, nearby fields on fire, children with broken bones, extra parent-teacher conferences, and lots of stinky animals. Even to this day we can’t resist a prank here and there—like somehow someone’s car ending up in the middle of a fenced-in lawn, or a cell phone in the attic over a bedroom so that strange elusive ringtones can be heard in the middle of the night. Luckily my parents don’t have to deal with these things anymore. Instead, these days they get a good laugh out of them. So be careful. Especially with your brother. And for now, be well in there sweet pea. I will try my best to laugh off any tomfoolery you and your brother get into.

23 weeks

2011-10-07T13:08:00.000-07:00

From Dad…
Closer and closer. I heard on the radio the other day that 23 weeks is the earliest that a baby can survive outside the womb, if it came to an extreme premature birth. This kind of thought is really scary, and more than a little daunting. Especially when the story was centered around a national drug shortage for things like intravenous calcium. I know you’re really a big mover, but this just seems so insanely early to start thinking about that kind of thing. But it is October already, which is another very scary thought. I don’t really know what to make of this whole passage of time thing.

Your mother has a really great storybook idea for the design of your room. Very comfortable. I’m really looking forward to seeing it all in place. So many moving parts these days. Your mother and I just signed a lease this morning for our office, which come November will be complete with a little children’s zone as well as a Murphy zone. Fun for the whole family. Everything’s starting to come together. But let’s stay away from thoughts of offices and work and premature drug-shortage births and just take a deep breath. Or in your case, just lie quietly, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom…
If you can’t already tell by today’s post you will quickly learn that your father is the dramatic one of the family. I may need to ban him from listening to NPR too early in the morning. As a way to make fun of this trait of his, around our 4th or 5th date I bought him a book called “Everything Is Bad for You: An A-Z Guide to What You Never Knew Could Kill You”. I guess it is a good balance though for us. I tend to not worry enough sometimes. Maybe the fact that I am currently listening to Bob Dylan’s “Buckets of Rain” has a part in the way I feel but I just think you have take things as they come. Know that things don’t always work out but you just have to do what you can and love when things are going well. And right now my little honey bee…things are pretty rad.

“Life is sad
Life is a bust
All ya can do is do what you must
You do what you must do and ya do it well
I'll do it for you honey baby
Can't you tell?” –Bob Dylan

22 weeks

2011-09-29T12:34:00.000-07:00

From Dad…
I felt your quivering movements for the first time the other night, like nervous butterflies in the stomach made real. You don’t seem to be a kicker or a puncher like your older brother was. More of a flutter, from what I felt and from what your mother says. LIke a tingling trembling tiny dancer. Our little hummingbird. Your mother says you’re quite a mover, and it really was something to feel you. The books say you’re around 8 inches long now, and weigh a whole pound. Such a big girl. Your brother has a little bit of a cold right now, which made for a long night for the poor guy. But he’s a trooper. He’ll be a good leader for you, to show you the ropes through life. We’ve all already learned a little bit from him, and he comes at us in new ways every day.

Bit by bit we’re getting your room ready for you. Or rather, truth be told, we’re getting our new room ready for us, so we can move downstairs and then get your room ready for you. You and Big Brother will be next to one another, which may prove to create tomfoolery and shenanigans to no end, but since we’ll be underneath you, be warned that we can hear every move you make.

Wow. Almost sounded like a father just then. Sorry about that. I do get ahead of myself. Plenty of time for you to dream up capers with BB later. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom…
Oh my, each week just flies by fast and faster. This pregnancy seems to be going a lot fast than when I was pregnant with your big brother. I think he keeps me pretty busy so that could be why. This week has been the week of colds here in the Kerr house. I was sick Monday and Tuesday and last night your big brother started getting sick. Poor little guy. He is a trooper though. Today we have been cuddling on the couch watching cartoons under a blanket. You seem to enjoy it. Whenever Braeden is cuddled up next to me you start to do your little dance.

Today I turn 31. It makes me think of my mom, your grandmother. At 31 years old she already had 5 children. I can’t imagine having 5 children right now. Especially when dealing with colds and pregnancy! Having all those siblings though is pretty nice. That is why I am so excited for Braeden to be getting a little sibling. I hope he looks after you the way my brothers looked after me. Hopefully he won’t pick on you too much but I can’t promise anything! Be well in there little one.

21 weeks

2011-09-20T13:45:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
Okay, so let’s do the math. Now I know you’re still in utero, and math is something you won’t understand for months yet, but it has to do with numbers and calculations and statistics. So here’s a few of them. My mother has three brothers and no sisters. I have two brothers and no sisters. Your mother has four brothers and no sisters. Her oldest brother has two sons and no daughters. Her youngest brother has two sons and no daughters. My youngest brother has a son and no daughters. Your mother’s middle brother and my older brother sort of split the count, but combined, your mother and I have three nieces between us, to go with our nine nephews. And to this we’ve already added your brother Braeden. We are a family of boys and men. Of course we did not plan it this way, as these things are well beyond our control, but if any of us were the betting type—and to my knowledge none of us truly are—the safe money would’ve been on a little baby boy for us. But such is not the case. In defiance of the odds, we’ve managed to brew up a lovely little daughter. And we could not be more excited. You’re a squirmy little thing, to be sure, so you may match big brother’s energy right out of the gate. But you’re a gorgeous little thing. Your ultrasound was amazing. All motion and full of life. So beautiful. I don’t think I ever realized how much I wanted a daughter until I we found out you were to be our little girl. We think about these things during pregancy, which side we’re on, what our preferences might be for gender, the pros and cons for boys and girls, but it’s all held in careful reserve so as not to be unkind or unfair if the resultant gender does not match our hopes. But I really felt even on this one. Either way was fine with me. I felt like it really didn’t matter to me if you’d turned out to be a boy or a girl. But now that I know, now that I realize that we’ll all get to experience the other half of this gender coin, that you’ll have a big brother to show you the way and keep an eye out for you, that we’ll get to see whether you’ll want dolls and pink princesses, or will prefer your big brother’s trucks and tank engines, and that maybe some day I’ll get to walk you down some beautifully decorated aisle, I have to admit that a girl was definitely what I preferred this time around. But of course, I’m reaching a bit too far on the aisle thing. No pressure. Plenty of time for your first date at age 25 or so. Some time after college. Maybe even after grad school. Until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
A few weeks ago people would ask me if I could tell whether or not you were a boy or a girl. I couldn’t really tell because I am just so used to boys. One morning though I woke up and realized the girl name we had picked out just wasn’t right. I don’t know why because I loved the name but for some reason it just wasn’t right for you. I started to think maybe this was a sign that you were a girl. Every time you would move I would say, “she’s on the move”. So I had a sneaking suspicion I was going to find out very soon we were in fact going to have a daughter.

I will be honest, there are moments when I am terrified about raising a daughter. I so badly hope that I do all the right things to raise a confident, strong, nurturing, independent woman. I know you already have a little spark in you. I can feel it every time you move. When you move I feel a playful vibe and I get a sense that you are ready for this world and ready to make your mark. I pray to the universe that I can nurture this light in you and give you the tools to really let you shine. Be well in there my sweet pea.

PS When I ask your big brother Braeden where the baby is he lifts up his shirt and points to his little belly. It is very sweet.

20 weeks

2011-09-15T16:10:00.001-07:00

On Tuesday we hit the 20 week mark! Woohoo! Halfway there. Our week has been a bit chaotic so we were not able to get a blog post up but here is a picture of our little sweet pea to hold you all over till next week. It's a girl!

19 Weeks

2011-09-07T12:55:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
First, an introduction. Here in the time before knowing, we have taken to naming you “Brister,” as an amalgamation of “brother” and “sister.” Ironically, this being the first post fired your way, it is also the last in which “Brister” will be appropriate. So it’s a bit of a short introduction. Come Monday, as the Reverend Jimmy Buffett says, it’ll be all right. Our ultrasound appointment is Monday morning, and we’re hoping that you’ll give us a quick flash during the exam to let us know the skinny, so to speak. Whether we’re to go with the “Br” or the “ister.” We’re not fully leaning one way or the other, but hoping just that you’re doing well and taking it easy. There’s no rush. Your brothers Braeden and Murphy don’t have much of a clue of the drastic changes in store (and truth be told, I’m not sure your mother and I do either), but Braeden has been seen lifting his shirt to point at his exposed belly saying, “baby,” in his clipped one-word-sentence way, and he’s also generously given over his crib to you, which was nice of him. So we’re ready to go there. He was very happy to graduate to his big-boy bed.

Much like the time before your brother was born, there are loads of changes happening around here. With your arrival we will have outgrown our current configuration in the house, so we’ve been doing a lot of work to expand and get the basement in order. With any luck at all (little of which we’ve had so far in the operation), we’ll be all moved to our new battle stations and settled in well in advance of you ringing the doorbell. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
I guess we are starting where we left off. We ended your big brother Braeden’s blog in the September heat and now we are starting your blog in the September heat. It feels like just yesterday we were writing to Braeden. It’s so strange that we are at it once again. Time really does fly. I am so excited for Braeden to have a sibling. I just know you both will be inseparable. He is a very sweet and kind boy. Whether you are a girl or a boy he is going to love you so much.

You are already an active little one, always moving around and throwing jabs. I still feel nauseous even at 19 weeks, which makes everyone think you are going to be a girl. When I was pregnant with your brother all I wanted to eat was raw veggies. With you, all I want is fruit. You are going to be a sweet tooth just like your mom. I hope you are doing well in there little one. Lots of love to you sweet pea.

My sweet boys.

2011-08-28T19:59:00.001-07:00

Braeden has something he wants to tell everyone...

2011-06-19T17:00:00.001-07:00

Always moving...

2011-06-12T20:47:00.000-07:00

Rainy day fun.

2011-04-06T20:40:00.001-07:00

Snow Day!

2011-03-02T07:45:00.001-08:00

In the yard with my boy.

2011-01-17T16:46:00.001-08:00

Christmas

2010-12-27T14:34:00.001-08:00

Braeden now knows when I am going to use flash to take his picture. He always closes his eyes now!

Mr. Independent

2010-12-06T13:35:00.001-08:00

Mr. Independent from Cortney Kerr on Vimeo.

GO BEAVERS!

2010-12-02T21:04:00.001-08:00

Family photoshoot with Maggie!

2010-11-16T16:28:00.001-08:00

A day at the park with my little man.

2010-10-06T16:08:00.001-07:00

Little man at 9 months...

2010-06-30T07:43:00.000-07:00

6 on 18

2010-03-19T13:30:00.000-07:00

My friend Alex introduced me to a new blog posting theme, 12 on 12. On the 12th day of the month keep your camera by your side and take 12 pictures that capture 12 moments from that day. Well, the 12th of March passed me by and I forgot. So I decided that since Braeden would be 6 months old on the 18th of March I would take 6 pictures on that day. Next month I will do 7…so on and so on until Braeden reaches 12 months then I will begin the 12 on 12.

For this first round I decided to capture some of my favorite things about Braeden. At first it sounded easy to do but I quickly discovered how hard it is to visually capture the things I love about him. Not only are there lots of pictures to choose from but there are so many things that cannot be seen with the eye. For instance, I love the way his breath feels on my chest when I am feeding him. I love they way it feels when his body goes limp while I am rocking him. I love the way my stomach tingles when he smiles at me. I love the way his cheek feels on my lips when I kiss him.

So here are just 6 things that I love so dearly about my son. If only I could share all the rest with you all…your hearts would melt.

No.1 I love the way he greets me each morning. Every morning when he wakes up he has a big smile and just jabbers away at the world. Every night when I go to bed I look forward to him greeting me in the morning. When I am taking off his sleep sack it is like I am unwrapping a little gift.

No.2 I love how he has discovered his new best friends…his feet. He cannot get enough of them. He has now learned they they fit perfectly in his mouth and if he pulls hard enough his feet with give him socks to chew on.

No. 3 I love the way his ears glow. Each morning the light shines beautifully through our living room window and as we are on the floor playing the light hits his ears just right. They have the perfect glow.

No. 4 I love the smudges he leaves on the mirror that is hanging on our bedroom door. He loves to say hello to the baby in the mirror and always wants so badly to reach out and touch him.

No. 5 I love the mess he makes while eating. No reason to really explain it…I just love it.

No. 6 I love how content he looks when he is in his dad’s arms. He seems to just chill when he is with Brian. They are good buds.

See you all next month with a new theme and 7 new photos! Lots of love, Cortney

I love my mornings...

2010-02-23T19:22:00.001-08:00

From Brian

2010-01-10T09:46:00.001-08:00

I’m not usually one to be proud. The cynic in me realizes that anything good or notable I’ve ever done is the culmination of events and circumstances beyond my direct control. And the good Christian ethics of my upbringing dictates that one should never descend into the mire of pride. And yet when I look at my son, I get a strong sense of excitement and adoration and calm confidence toward him that I can only describe as pride. I am proud of my son. I am probably more proud of my son than of anything else I’ve ever encountered in my life. I am proud in a way that is removed from myself—in that my pride is of no accomplishment of mine. It is external. I am honored. I am blessed by this little man, this presence outside of myself that is obviously tied forever to me. He is an honor to me. An honor to us.

My pride does not come from anything he has accomplished. It’s not because of anything he has done, or will do. He cries in the night. At times he sleeps only in short, unpredictable bursts. He tries my patience, not to mention his mother’s. He will some day get into trouble. He will cause problems. He will get into fights. He will break hearts. Even as I write this, I have to stop momentarily to replace the pacifier or to rock him back to sleep. I do not know if he is intelligent. I don’t know if he has any athletic abilities. He may be a poet or a dancer. He may be a carpenter or a doctor. He may end up a graphic designer for all I know. Or a dentist. Or a chemical engineer, or an Army intelligence officer. All of that is beside the point. The fact is that he exists. He lives and breathes. He giggles and squeals and drools on himself. He pees and fills his diaper. He is a human being. And he represents the greatest act of faith for a man who believes in the fundamental darkness of fallen human nature, the hope for a better future for all of us, that one generation just might be better than the one that came before.

But I must sign off now. He is crying. He’s lost his pacifier. Or his diaper needs changing. Or he is hungry. He calls, and we must answer. He is, after everything, our son.

Our little man at 15 weeks

2010-01-02T14:55:00.001-08:00

Braeden's first photo shoot!

2009-11-22T13:38:00.001-08:00

Our little man is 4 weeks old.

2009-10-16T15:51:00.001-07:00

I know, I know, I haven't been keeping up with the blog like I said I would but as you all know both Brian and I have been a bit occupied lately. :) I still haven't gotten around to typing out our birth story yet but eventually I will. So today our little Braeden is 4 weeks old. These past few weeks have been...I don't even have a word to describe it. I have never been so emotional, in love, lonely, tired, inspired, drained and happy in my entire life. I now understand that there really is no way of preparing yourself for having a newborn. It is nothing like I had imagined. It is so much more rewarding, enjoyable, and harder than I ever would have thought.

I have to admit when we first came home from the hospital I kept thinking "oh god, what did we do". I was so nervous and overwhelmed about being a mom...along with the crazy hormone changes. Lets just say I cried a lot. For about a week I couldn't stop crying. I felt so bad because I had been waiting so long for this little guy to get here and now that he was here I was crying all the time. Recovery was also a bit rough. I knew recovery from a c-section would be tough but I wasn't expecting it to be as hard as it was. 21 hours of labor and an emergency c-section sure does take a toll on the body! I was able to get a grasp on things though and it did get much better. Once I was able to get somewhat of a routine down and I had recovered enough to get out of the house everything started looking up.

Braeden is such an amazing baby. Nights are still a bit rough but that is to be expected. He has started to smile which just makes my heart melt! I'm sorry to all you moms out there but I do have the most adorable baby in the world. He loves to snuggle but at the same time likes his own space. He is already sleeping in his own crib and he seems to love it. He loves to eat and eat and eat and eat. The kid gained 1 pound in a week! He really is a dream and I am so in love. I knew I would love him but I never imagined that I would love him this much. Love just doesn't even seem like a strong enough word for the way that I feel about him.

Thanks to everyone who has been so supportive of our new little family. We have really appreciated all the Facebook comments and all the love that has been sent out way. We can't wait for you all to meet our little man...he's pretty cool.

Much love,
Cortney

P.S. Murphy already loves Braeden! Every morning Murphy gets up wagging his tail and goes into Braeden's room to check up on him. It's pretty adorable.

Welcome Home Braeden James!

2009-09-23T14:59:00.000-07:00

We are all finally home and nesting in nicely. Braeden is doing great and is such an angel. Next week Brian and I will share the whole birth story with you all but for now here are some pictures of the little man.
Love,
Cortney

41 weeks

2009-09-16T11:51:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
Somewhere there is a group of old women. They’re married to somebody. As a group, they have a name. They’re called the Old Wives. I know... genius. And for some reason, this magical group knows a lot of things. Or at least they have a lot to say, a lot of advice to give, plenty of tales to tell about how things are to be done and how you should live your life. Beware of them. They may mean well, but they don’t always know what they’re talking about. In fact, their tales are known specifically as not really meaning anything. But they keep talking anyway. And a lot of people still listen, and pass along the advice to whomever doesn’t really want it. But they mean well. So try not to let it bother you when the time comes when you are handed such things.

So your due date came and went. Seemed like about a month ago. A lot has happened since then. The space-time continuum has slowed down to where each “normal” 24-hour period seems to take 24 days or so. We’re all anxiously awaiting your arrival. Extra innings. Late into the night. We’re running out of pitching staff; going to have to put the short stop on the mound soon, if this thing goes on much longer.

Your soon-to-be best friend Alice was born last Wednesday, stealing your due date and all of our hearts. She’s really quite amazing. Little pink skin and full head of red hair. So the bar’s been set pretty high, little buddy, for health and adorableness and projectile bodily functions that I won’t go into here, and we’re all ready for you to come forth and be recognized for your own level of cuteness and talents as yet unknown. So if I may urge you gently in any way to decide that very very soon is a good time to head on out, so to speak, then let me do so now. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Your dad's post says it all. This past week has been such a long week. Time has really slowed down. It has been an emotional week as well. We have now entered the stage where we worry about every move we make and worry whether or not we are making the right decisions when it comes to the health of our child. I am learning that everyone has something to say and just when you think you have made the right decision someone makes you second guess yourself. Our doctor has scheduled us to be induced tomorrow at midnight. We have gotten many comments and opinions about this causing me to have many meltdowns and causing much confusion. I have come realize though that in the end you must make a decision, be confident in that decision, and trust that you are doing what is best. You will someday discover that everyone has an opinion and something to say but trust yourself and be confident and you will do fine.

I am so excited for you to meet your little buddy Alice. Today is her 1 week birthday and she is so adorable. We went to visit last night and she is amazing. Her parents have settled nicely into parenthood and are doing an amazing job. I hope we are able to ease in as nicely as they have. It is so neat to think that by this time next week I will have you in my arms. I so look forward to meeting you little monkey. Be well in there and we will see you very very soon.

40 weeks

2009-09-09T11:50:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
So today’s the day. The due date. The day we’ve all been focusing on for quite a long time: 9.9.09. But it doesn’t look like you’re ready to join us just yet. There has been a lot of speculation as to when you’ll arrive, even an office betting pool or two, but we’re told there’s only a 2% chance of you coming on your actual due date. It appears we’re following that statistic. I’m sort of hoping for the 14th myself, so you’ll share a birthday with your grandpa, which would make you only five days late, but I know your mother’s really hoping for sooner. She’s having a lot of trouble moving around these days, you know. Carrying you puts quite a strain on her body. The substitute doctor last week guessed that you’re about 7.5 pounds at the moment, give or take a bit. He also said you’re in no hurry to go anywhere. Old Murphy will be the only one in the family not born in September, but he’s only off by three days, so I suppose that’s all right.

Last night felt like Christmas. Or maybe Thanksgiving. One of the holidays, at least. I don’t really know why that was, but something about the cool crisp air while I was padding around in my socks and PJs on the thick soft rug with a glass of wine in hand made it feel like gifts were about to be opened. It made me think about this year’s Christmas, and how you’ll be a little over three months old by the time it rolls around. Sprawled out on a blanket, head up, checking everybody out in that unsteady baby-like way. Made me very happy. I thought about a little four or five month old boy I held in my lap a few months back and how he’d had this great big grin as he gripped the sides of my face at the temples and brought his forehead to mine, grinning eyes right in my face. “Cute” doesn’t quite cut it. Did it over and over. This little kid was pretty amazing. And you’ll be nearing his size by the time Christmas comes. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. Just know that we’re ready. The nets are up to catch you. We’ve got all the towels in the world. But until you’re good and satisfied that it’s time to come out, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Today is the day but it seems that it will not be your birthday. It would have been pretty neat to have a birthday of 9.9.09. It seems that your soon to be little buddy Alice has taken your expected birthday. As I write this, our friends are in the hospital getting ready for Alice's appearance. I am so excited for them but I have to admit I was a little depressed when I heard they were at the hospital. Today is the day they get to meet their baby girl. I so badly want to meet my baby boy. Maybe it's just all these pregnancy hormones but even as I sit here I find myself crying. Yes, I am very uncomfortable but mainly I just want to meet you and hold you in my arms and be your mom already. I want to share you with the world and share the world with you. You dad is calling it prepartum depression. :)

Last night your dad and I went for a lovely walk. It was fun to think that in only a few weeks we will be taking you for walks and introducing you to one of Murphy's parks and his favorite game of catch. I look forward to the days when he starts to drop a ball at your little feet for you to throw. Be well in there little monkey. I love you with all my heart.

2009-09-07T09:37:00.001-07:00

http://www.haveyouhadthatbabyyet.com/

39 weeks!

2009-09-02T12:17:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
No progress. That’s what Cortney’s doctor told us on Friday. You hadn’t budged. Taking your sweet little time, which is fine with use since the good doctor is on vacation until your due date on the ninth. I know your mother was a little discouraged, as these days she’s pretty uncomfortable. They say that the final month of pregnancy is the longest month, and they are not kidding. Seems to go by very slowly, and I’m not the one who has to carry you around. Over the next week I’m planning to try to work a little more from home, to try and help your mother out a little bit. She gets exhausted constantly now, and has trouble doing anything physical. So I think it’ll be good to hang around a little and carry laundry and just lend a hand when I can.

You don’t look like you’ve gotten much bigger, judging by looking at your mother’s belly, but we’re hoping you’re getting good and chubby. Nice fat little baby. Our little buddha. At this point, we’re as ready as we’re going to be for you to join us on the outside. But no rush. Until you’re ready on your end, just wait in there, relax, take in all those good calories and Omega-3 fatty acids, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Aaaaaand GO! Now? How abooouut....now? Ok fine, no pressure. You just take your time. You are bit of a tease though! I was so excited the week before last to discover that I had dilated to 1cm and was 70% effaced. Last week though the doctor said there hadn't been anymore progress. I am hoping that this Friday's appointment will show some changes. You goofy boy...you already know how to drive your parents a bit nutty!

At first I was worried that you would come a bit early. I was worried because our doctor is on vacation in Mexico and will be back in the office on your due date. With the way I feel lately though I wouldn't mind the on call doctor delivering! You have been very good to me through out this entire pregnancy and I still can't complain too much because I know things could be worse...but boy o boy I sure am uncomfortable these days. It is amazing how much I took for granted when I wasn't pregnant. I never gave two thoughts about hopping up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Now it feels like it takes me ten uncomfortable minutes just to get out of the bed!

I hope you are doing well in there. Everyone is very anxious to meet you. I get phone calls and e-mails daily asking about how you are doing and if you are on your way. I hope to see you soon baby boy!

38 weeks

2009-08-26T15:15:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
The well-known motto of the Boy Scouts of America is “Be Prepared,” and back in the day I spent enough time in that notorious gang of thugs to have had at least a little bit of that idea rub off on me. So I’m trying my best to do just that. Generally speaking, I think we’re ready. This last weekend we made a last push to fill in the missing bits to ready ourselves for your arrival. Last bits for the hospital bag. A few more diapers. A wristwatch with a second hand. Your mother is increasingly uncomfortable and is really ready for you to launch. But it doesn’t look like you’ll be early—at least not too early—but she’s ready to enter the next chapter nonetheless. I have to admit that I’m with her on that, as much as I can be. I feel like I did all my studying and learning about all this birthing and fatherhood thing so long ago though, that I fear I’m a little rusty—like I need to cram for the exam, so to speak. The problem with cramming for this exam though, is that one cannot know when the exam will actually take place. Makes it tough to pull an all-nighter (not that an all-nighter is a good idea in this case, as everybody says to get plenty of rest before you get here). I’m trying to run through things in my head a little, to make sure I stay as sharp as I can, but truth be told I’m feeling a little fuzzy. Trying to clear my plate as much as possible with work and the like has made my head spin, so I’m having trouble keeping it all together. But no worries. We’ll snap into place. We’ll be prepared. We’re ready to meet you, big guy. But until then, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Almost there buddy...I hope! At last weeks doctors appointment she said I was 1cm dilated so at least things are starting to move in that direction. I'm starting to feel lots of aches and pains but I love them because I know they are a sign that you are about arrive. I keep wondering what you are going to look like. What color are your eyes going to be? Will you have any birthmarks? Will you have any hair? It's like getting the mystery lollypop...I am so curious to know what's inside! Be well in there my little monkey and hopefully we will see you very soon.

37 weeks

2009-08-19T10:14:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
Okay, so maybe it was the wine. Or maybe it was the heat, or the past couple of days that did it. Or maybe it was the back to back to back episodes of Entourage we’d just watched on DVD (a show you’re not allowed to see until you’re well into your teens, by the way). Whatever the reason, I was feeling kind of high. I stood in the back yard waiting for Murphy to do his thing so we could all go to bed, and I looked up at the purple bruise of an evening sky, crisscrossed with contrails, and the sudden profound feeling that I was about to become a father came over me, the feeling that I was about to connect to the eternal, to the long line of existence culminating in your great-grandparents, your grandparents, your mother and me, finally focusing into you. We are human beings, and we’ve been here for a while. And we just might be here for a while yet, if we play our cards right. Maybe I’ve been reading to much sci-fi lately, but looking up at those few stars poking through, I got a sense of us all being connected together, as humans, as living beings, and that there is really something great on the horizon. For a long time I’ve been a pretty adamant pessimist, but your arrival, and the idea that we’re all someday going to pass this big fat baton on to the next generation, strikes me as life’s greatest leap of faith, the best test of one’s hope. Melting ice caps or toxic air or not enough energy to go around, all that looms ahead—maybe for certain, maybe less than so—can be daunting. But we’ve got to have hope. As parents, we have to believe. We have to trust that maybe this round, our young, maybe they’ll get it right. Maybe we still have a chance ourselves. And maybe we weren’t all that wrong to begin with.

But like I said, maybe it was the wine. Or blame it on HBO. At any rate, I don’t want to put too much pressure on you. Maybe these are just the half-drunken ramblings of a flabby guy in his late thirties standing in the middle of his dry crusty back lawn wondering about existence. You’ll get your chance for that yourself. All things in due time. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Congrats my little man. You have hit the full term mark. Now we just let you get a little more chunky and wait for the big day. It really tugs at my heart waiting for you to arrive. Our house is full of baby stuff reminding me of what is about to happen. It's hard for me sometimes to look around at things like your carseat or your little swing. They seem so empty and the house seems so quiet. People tell me to enjoy the quiet now and I try but I am just so excited to meet you already and I am so ready to start being your mother. I try to prepare myself for the noise and chaos of having a newborn in the house but I can't help but daydream about looking into your sweet eyes and playing with your tiny little toes. I daydream about you, your father, Murphy and me spending evenings staring at one another in amazement at what a beautiful life this really can be. I am so in love with you little one.

36 weeks

2009-08-12T10:16:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
One more day, and one more week down. And one more week until you’re considered “full term,” which does put a bit of a serious tone onto everything. We’re trying our best to make sure we’re ready for your arrival, but it’s just one of those things that one cannot completely prepare for. Just the way it goes. There are a few specific things we can do, like install a car seat, which we have done, and others that we have yet to finish—like pack a bag for the hospital. I’m starting to feel like it was ages ago when I was knee-deep in baby books doing my best to become a quasi-doula, and I’m worried that I’m going to forget everything once you decide it’s time. My head’s been so fried lately. But I’m practicing my labor comfort coaching measures by comforting my own laboring anxiety. Sort of works, actually. Just breathe. Slowly, in and out. Amazing how much just that little piece of coaching can do.

We took a last-minute last-ditch trip to the coast on Saturday, to join some new friends who’d rented a house at Cannon Beach. All three couples who were staying the night are expecting babies relatively around the same time, so there was a feeling of solidarity for sure. Was good for your mother to hang out with brothers-in-arms (or sisters, rather, as the case may be) and talk about all things pregnant. Jim and Becky, who’d invited us, were in our baby class, and their daughter Alice is due only four days before you. There has been a lot of talk about the two of you coming at the same time, as we’re both slated to deliver at Good Sam Hospital. Strict and clear rules have been laid down, however, that the two of you will not be dating. We’re told that Alice will not be allowed to date until she’s about 35 years old or something. Sounds reasonable, I’d say.

But I digress. And get ahead of myself. All that’s plenty far down the road. For now, we’ll concentrate on finishing packing that hospital bag. And you, my dear boy, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
One week closer little guy! People are starting to place bets on when you will arrive. Your Nan and her coworkers have started a betting jar at her office. She is betting that you will be here September 4th at 6am. I was hoping for August 27th so that you have the same birthday as your Uncle Brent and cousin Nathan. I like the idea of you being early. I have such conflicting thoughts because I know it is always best to let you grow in there as long as possible but I am getting so anxious to meet you. Plus, I'm getting to the point where I am uncomfortable most of the time now. I have loved being pregnant but I am beginning to miss the days of having energy and being able to move around without feeling like a bowling ball is about to fall out of me!

I have met some great friends who are also expecting their first little ones in September. It has been really nice to have other women in the same exact position as I am in. It's a lot of fun talking about our pregnancies and all the fears and joys about becoming moms. We all spent some time in Cannon Beach this last weekend and we hope to do it again next year to celebrate our babies 1 year birthdays.

Be well in there my sweet little guy. Love you.

35 weeks

2009-08-05T12:28:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
Last Thursday we had a bit of a scare. Or a reality check, rather. When your mother and I showed up to baby class (yes, there are classes to teach us how to have a baby), we found that Cozette, a woman in class with us, was upstairs in the hospital at that very moment giving birth to her first child. Now this is a woman who’d spent the past nine weeks sitting across from us in class, so the news that she was suddenly upstairs in labor—three weeks before her due date—came as a bit of a shock. A wake-up call. This thing is for real, it said, and it’s happening soon. And it can come at any time. Be ready. And none of you are truly ready.

Those of us left sitting in the classroom shared nervous glances with one another as the realizations all sank in. Still so much to do. So much to left to prepare for your arrival. Your mother and I vowed to make sure we got everything ready immediately, to make the final runs to the store, to pack the gear bag for the hospital (yes, we need a gear bag for the hospital), and have your room ready for landing, so to speak.

A couple of clients, collaborators, and good friends, Ann and Jennifer, threw us (and you) a party/shower this past Saturday. It was a very good time, with good food, drink, and great stories. Everybody is looking forward to meeting you. We got some great gear that will be necessary to have on hand when you arrive (such as a car seat, without which the hospital will not allow you to come home). And speaking of gear, you’ve got a great pair of Nikes waiting for you, and maybe the cutest onesie on the planet. You’ll be far cooler than your parents, for sure, with friends like these.

So after the little scare and the great shower/party, we spent most of Sunday gathering all the last major things to get your room (and us) ready to go. Most everything is finished. Now all we have left to do is fill the hospital gear bag for your mother and me. After that’s done, we should be ready to roll out of the hangar and onto the runway. But no rush. Nobody’s in too much of a hurry (except your mother, who’s just about ready to say okay, enough’s enough), so take your time. When you’re ready. But until then, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
As your dad said we sure did have a reality check last Thursday. In two weeks you will be considered full term which makes me very happy that we have come this far but it also reminds me of how real this is! I think we are pretty much prepared for your arrival. Sunday was a very productive day. We even got you a cool little swing which every time I see I wish I was small enough to cuddle up in it to take a nap. I just wish I could even take naps these days. Sleep is no longer something my body will let me do. I don't know if it's just that I am so anxious for your arrival or the fact that every part of my body feels like it is going to explode. Maybe it is just getting me used to the fact that I will not be getting much sleep once you are here!

The party that Ann and Jennifer threw for us on Saturday was a ton of fun. You already have so many people that adore you and they cannot wait to meet you. You have a pretty big fan club kid! I feel like I have so much more to say and write but I honestly think my brain is slowly turning to mush. I tell your dad that I hope you will be a smart kid because you are stealing all my brain power! Be well in there little one. I love you.

34 weeks

2009-07-29T09:15:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
HOT. That’s about all I can say. You’re glad you are where you are, my little boy, nice and cool at 98 degrees. I recommend you stay there for a few more weeks. Because out here, things are out of control. Portland hit 107 yesterday, or some horrific number. I lost count. Today is supposed to be hotter. You’re giving your mother a bit of grief during all this heat, I have to admit, but in truth that’s not really your fault. We can’t blame you. You’re just doing your thing. It’s that sun that’s to blame. And the weatherman. Or maybe Al Gore. At any rate, it’s hot enough to where the Oregonian had an article this morning showing how to bake cookies in your car. Vegan, of course. Doesn’t seem like such a good idea to bake cookies on your dashboard, but one thing’s for sure—that’s when you know it’s just too hot outside.

We’re awfully thankful that we bought a window-unit air conditioner a few years ago, back in Corvallis before we were married. Your mother had convinced me against my judgement to buy the thing, for those handful of days in Oregon that require it. In the end, though, she was right. Definitely. That little thing has saved our lives over the years, and especially right now. As our house feels like a furnace, our little bedroom sits happily sealed away at meat-locker temperatures. But we can only hang out in there for so long. We have to face the day at some point. And that’s when the trouble starts. Your older brother Murphy gave your mother a scare yesterday in the car, as he just seemed to wilt on the way home in the car. Dogs don’t sweat like we do, so they have trouble cooling off. All three of you made it home okay, but your mother was really worried for a while.

You and your mother and Murphy are coming into the studio today to escape the heat, just like yesterday. We’ve got high ceilings and air conditioning, so it’s pretty pleasant. And our windows face north. So we’re good. We’ll make sure that Murphy doesn’t run into trouble climbing into a cookie-baking car after work this time, and we’ll all be okay. As for you, my little boy, be well, stay cool, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Ugh...what a week this has been so far little one. It is HOT. I remember it being pretty hot last summer but carrying around a little human in my belly sure does seem to make things a bit warmer. As uncomfortable as it is though I am glad you will be born closer to Fall. I would much rather be pregnant now than have a newborn now. I can't imagine having a newborn baby right now and trying to keep cool. I think this hot weather with a newborn would make me really nervous. Thank goodness we are able to go hang out with dad at his studio. It is nice and pleasant there.

We had such a crazy day on Monday. Your dad and I bought a used Honda Accord up in Vancouver. I drove him up there to pick it up and on the way home while on 205 the tire on our CRV blew out. Yikes. Luckily the car handled nicely and I was able to get to the side of the road to see what had happened. The front tire was of course flat and a large chunk of tire was missing from its side. I was a bit shaken plus it was incredibly hot, I had Murphy with me, and I was getting a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions. I called your dad and he was only a few minutes behind me. In the end your dad was able to fix it all and get us all back on the road again. Someone must have been looking out for us little one because after seeing that tire I realized things could have turned out much differently.

I hope you are comfortable in there little guy...I will do my best to keep us cool. I love you

33 weeks

2009-07-22T12:24:00.001-07:00

From Dad...
My dear boy, meet IKEA, your new friend. Your mother and I made a run this past weekend, braved the teeming mass, and outfitted your room with necessary shelves, bookcases, drawers, lamps, and a plant—all to go along with the very first toy we ever bought for you: a long floppy furry red thing (some kind of unidentifiable animal... ask your mother), also from IKEA. It’s a good place. Good Scandinavian furniture. Low American prices. It’s a place we’ll return to more than once in your young life, I’m sure.

You’re getting to be quite the active little bruiser. I had my hand on your mother’s belly last night, and you were like a little bag of God’s marbles rolling around. All bumpy rolly lumps. Amazing. You’re running out of room in there for sure, as you grow and grow. You tickle your mother quite a lot. She describes it to me, but that’s knowledge only a mother can have. We fathers are left only seeing the outside. Such is the way of things.

We’re getting near the home stretch, so to speak. Into the eighth inning. About time to bring in the big closer with a nice sinking fastball, a little bit of junk, and great control. See this thing through. So far things have gone pretty well, and we’re hoping it’ll all come together in the end. For all of us. We’ve built a comfortable lead, so to speak, heading into the late innings—with home field advantage. But we’ve got to go a full nine innings. And we’ve got to play every out. No rain in the forecast. So hang in there, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Welcome to 33 weeks my sweet boy. I just finished up washing and folding your clothes. From what I have heard from other moms this will not be the last time I wash and fold your clothes before you are born. It is so neat to be sitting there folding my son’s clothes. It just seems so surreal. We have a son. I love that.

You are running out of room in there. I can tell by your strong jabs and kicks. Especially when you decide to jab into my ribs. You have helped me though to sit up straight more often and correct my posture. Every time I slouch you let me know you do not like that.

Things have been pretty easy so far but now that we are this far along and summer has definitely made an appearance I am starting to get a wee bit uncomfortable. I had a photo shoot the other day and it was the first time I had to sit every 5 minutes to take a break. I have decided to start the break from my photography. Hopefully I will be back in the swing of things by January. Don’t worry though I will still take lots of pictures of you!

Be well in there little one. Keep on cooking and soon enough we will finally meet face to face. I love you.

32 weeks

2009-07-15T16:01:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
32 weeks in, and three years down. Yesterday was the anniversary of the day your mother and I were married, three solid years ago. Each year has seen its own trials and tribulations and victories and good times. We’ve gained a lot over that time, your mother and I, and I’m sure you’ll bring some new spirited adventures to the table as well, in year number four. We’ve spent a lot of our lives moving toward this time, this place in our lives, and we’ve worked hard to do our best to prepare a good world for you to join. We’ve loved each other in the best way we know how, and we’re hoping that by the examples we set as parents you will grow to love those around you, respect the world you live in, and be a general positive influence to whomever you come into contact with.

The man who watched over our wedding and performed the ceremony, our good friend Law, was here this past week, visiting from abroad. He is a good man, and you would be proud to know that he had a hand in joining your mother and father together. You will meet him next summer, when he comes to visit again. Now that he’s spent time in the four corners of the world—occasionally in rather unkempt and unsanitary places—he is no longer the freakish germaphobe that we all knew him to be in the past. So when he does come to visit, feel free to slobber and drool and spit up to your glorious little heart’s content. He will enjoy it. I promise. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking. And happy anniversary, baby brother. We love you.

From Mom...
Welcome to week 32 little guy. As your dad said we celebrated out 3rd anniversary yesterday. We had a lovely dinner and short walk around downtown and settled at home to cuddle with Murphy and read. It was such a nice evening. We were discussing over dinner how each year of marriage gets better and better. You will see once you arrive into this world that things can get difficult at times and there will be life situations that will break your heart but when you have someone who loves you, you will discover you can get through anything. I am lucky to share a love with your father that makes life a bit easier when things get tough. He showed me this very early on before we were even married when your grandfather had cancer and I knew he was someone I would never want to let go. I hope the love we continue to build will show you how special these bonds are and teach you how important it is to allow yourself to love and be loved.

I am already excited for you to meet Law a year from now when he comes back to visit. He is such a dear friend and I know you will love him just as much as your dad and I do. He always has such amazing stories to tell from his travels around the world. We had such a great week with him and now that he is gone it is a bit quiet around the house. Be well in there little one. I love you.

31 weeks

2009-07-08T14:02:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
Well this was the week of clichés, it would seem. First, we went to the beach for the afternoon of July 3rd, along with apparently all of the Portland metro population. Not the only ones with that brilliant, original idea, apparently. We battled horrific traffic for a while, but stumbled upon a nice spot at Rockaway Beach, hung out for a while, tossed Murphy’s toy into the surf, had a great little dinner in Manzanita, and called it a day. Ended up being an excellent time, all told.

We had a quintessential “Marley” moment with your older brother Murphy at the beach when he bolted for this terrified little girl’s big blue beach ball, proceeded to pounce on it and immediately destroyed it. Good times. And of course, the family was there for an all-day photo shoot, and the ball was color-coordinated with all their outfits. And of course, he decided the best place to lay a jobbie was right in the middle of where everybody was walking. Nice move, Murph.

But the real cliché came later. Painting your room, finishing up the brilliant work your uncle Brad had done. So there we were, music playing in the background, paint rollers with drips all over the two of us and the drop cloth, our lazy yellow lab crashed out on the rug just outside the doorway. We were a silly little postcard from some B-level romantic comedy: 100-year old house, check. Brilliant sunny Fourth of July weekend, check. Gorgeous pregnant wife, check. Silly, bumbling husband trying to paint the baby’s room, check. And to finish it off, the adorable yellow lab trying to sniff the paint cans… priceless.

So needless to say, your room is nearing completion. All the tough stuff is done. Now it’s just a matter of finishing off some shelving, and putting everything away. Murphy has been investigating all your stuff, making sure it’s all up to snuff. So far, he approves. Tried to steal a monkey toy, but found out right away that all of that is off limits. Soon enough it’ll all find its proper home, and be ready for your arrival. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
I am getting more and more anxious to meet you little guy. People ask me if I am nervous and excited about your arrival and I have to say yes. I am not as nervous as people would think about the labor and delivery though. I think I am more curious about it than nervous. I know it will be one of the hardest things I will ever do in my life but when I think of who it is all for I feel comforted. Plus, your dad is going to be a great coach who I know will help to get us through this.

I am more nervous about once you are home with us. I have fears about whether or not I will be a good mom to you. I already love you so much and I worry that I won’t know how to give you everything you need and deserve. I have nightmares lately about these fears. This one dream scared me but when I talk about it, it sounds kind of funny. In the dream I came to the realization that I hadn’t fed you in 24 hours…I hadn’t even heard you cry so I had just forgotten about you. So I went into your room and looked into your crib. There in your crib was Murphy sound asleep with one of his favorite toys “monster”. I started to panic and ran out into the backyard. There you were all wrapped up in a blanket. I had left you outside overnight in the backyard. I felt so horrible I wanted to die. Ugh…I hate those dreams! I promise to never leave you outside or forget about you but I can’t promise that I will never screw up here and there.

I love you little one.

30 weeks

2009-07-01T15:32:00.001-07:00

From Dad...
So your big brother Murphy is anxiously awaiting your arrival. He doesn’t quite understand what’s taking so long. In dog time, this is an unacceptably long gestation. Nine months is like five years to him. Or something like that. My math’s a little fuzzy. Sometimes I forget to carry the 1. Kids are about Murphy’s favorite thing in the world, as they combine all his favorite things: throwing toys, food on the floor, a face to lick, and plenty of energy. So he’s ready for you to arrive. And grow a little. And learn to throw. The food on the floor part will come soon enough.

I’m a little sorry to say that we sold our sailboat this past weekend. Although we were sad to see her go, it had to happen. Maybe when you’re a little older we can get back into sailing, if you’d like, but for now, it was the right thing to do. We needed to focus on you. And your big debut. And our lovely little bungalow. And sitting in the shade and reading and relaxing. Murphy never quite learned how to be a boat dog on that particular deck anyway. Too many things to get in his way. He’ll do better next time.

So I’ll make you a promise here and now, little brother. Some day we’ll go sailing together. And if we decide we’d like to own a boat again—all of us together: you, me, and your mother—we’ll weigh the pros and cons and go into it with our hearts wide open and our minds focused. We’ll sail the seas and conquer the world. But until then, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Welcome to 30 weeks kid! Oh man, I cannot believe we are at 30 weeks already. So much to do and time is just flying by. Your dad and I are trying our best to get things done around here but it’s hard because at the same time we are trying to play as much as possible before your arrival. We are taking the advice that we should go out to dinner, take trips, and just play before you make your appearance. I hope to do all these things when you arrive but I know the first few weeks or months we will probably be laying low.

I always feel a little weird having my picture taken and constantly posting them each week so this week I decided Murphy needed his picture taken. The little booties he is posing with were given to you by our friend Melissa…who is also expecting! I feel bad for Murphy lately. I get so tired these days so he doesn’t always get his daily walks. He follows me around all day giving me those sad eyes. I worry that he will have a hard time since we will not be giving him all of our attention. I know he will adjust…but it will take a little time.

Your cousins are coming over today to play in the sprinkler with Murphy. I look forward to the days when you will be able to play with them. They are such good kids and they look forward to meeting you…especially the girls. When I first announced that I was pregnant your cousin Karah gave my belly a little pat and said “I hope you have fun with your baby”. She is always giving you hugs and kisses and loves to tickle you. She is such a sweet little girl. Love you little one.

29 weeks

2009-06-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

From Dad...

I still remember relatively clearly the first time I heard the phrase “baby shower.” It was when my mother, your grandmother, was pregnant with your uncle Darren. Some time in 1981. It took place down the street at the Erickson’s house, I think. I remember having trouble understanding the concept—pictured by the mind of an eight year-old— of a shower for a baby that had not yet been born. Was there water involved? A shower head? A bathtub? I think I remember my mother saying something about it being a bunch of our friends getting together to give us gifts for the baby. But what did that have to do with taking a shower? It was all very confusing.

So now, this past weekend, these 28 years later, there was a shower in your honor. I’d like to think I understand the concept a little bit better now, although I still have never been to one. Not that I’m looking for an invitation. Your grandfather Kerr and your uncle Brad and I were busy breaking down and rebuilding the back fence during your shower, so that you’ll have a safe, secure backyard in which to run around, chase Murphy, and in turn be chased. I did not attend. But there was plenty of loot brought back to the house afterward. I have to admit, I envy a few of the items. A shirt or two I’d like to steal if only they were a little bit bigger. And a jungle scene night light that makes me want to stare at it while I fall asleep myself. Loads of great stuff. Your grandmother brought an old Fischer-Price circus train for you that was my favorite when I was little. It’s very cool, but you’ll have to wait a while to use it. Something about choking hazards.

Right now, all the goodies are piled in the middle of your room, since we’re still working on the walls. I say “we” and yet I have not yet touched a thing in there. It’s really your uncle Brad and your mother that have been the heroes in there. When we get it all done and painted and shelves up, it’s going to be better than our room, for sure. But that’s still a while off. At least a few weeks. So keep the faith, little brother, and stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
The neighbor from our old house, Patti, threw us a baby shower last Saturday. It felt so strange having a baby shower. It feels like just yesterday I had a bridal shower. It was so much fun to have friends and family there playing fun games and talking all about baby things. We got lots of great gifts…now I just need to find a place to put it all! I keep going into your room to look at the goodies we got. It is so much fun to look at it all and imagine you playing with the toys and wearing the cute little clothes. I can’t believe how close we are getting.

We had our doctor’s appointment last week where she tested me for gestational diabetes and anemia. I passed the anemia test just fine but I barely passed the GD test. I was very happy to hear her say I passed but was bummed to hear that is was only by 1 point. So she said I have to cut out sugar in my diet…so no more ice cream for us little one! Brian and I keep joking about what a life I live at the moment. No gluten, no caffeine, no alcohol and now no sugar! Of course it is all worth it little one!

This past week I have really started to have more of those goofy pregnancy symptoms. Some are pretty hilarious and some just make me a little mental at times. A funny one is when I am walking at the store or even just around the house and I just about fall over...for no reason. My balance is all out of wack and sometimes I feel like I am just going to tumble over. Your dad gets a kick out of this. One symptom that makes me a bit frustrated is how my brain has seemed to turn to mush! My memory has seemed to "shit the bed" as our good friend Law would say. Yesterday I went to the store and bought a yummy corned beef to boil up and totally forgot to actually boil it. So by the time dinner came around it of course was way too late since it takes 4 hours to cook. Lets hope I can remember to boil it today. Love you little guy!

28 weeks

2009-06-17T10:39:00.001-07:00

From Dad...
For the first time a few days ago, I felt your lumpy, strange body inside your mother’s belly. I think we felt your head first, and then you moved, and I could feel what I was sure to be your shoulders and a bit of an elbow. But it’s hard to say, really. You’re probably butt-high in truth, so I was probably palming your derriere inadvertently. My apologies. The “shoulders” were likely your hips. Or your feet. It’s all very confusing. But it was for sure very exciting. You’re coming along, baby brother. Up until now, we’ve only felt you move or seen you kick. This was the first time, for me, that the whole sack of potatoes, as it were, if you will, was in evidence. I put both hands on your mother’s belly and felt the shape of you, your presence suddenly so real and alive. It was a beautiful thing.

This past weekend I was able to demostrate (in front of a small, appreciative audience) Murphy’s abilty to run passing patterns in the backyard with the little mini Nerf football (orange and black, of course). He has a few spots he likes—generally drags across the middle flats behind the linebackers, and the occasional deep post pattern—all off of play-action clues as to whether he goes right or left. Everybody was impressed. Generally the comments were along the lines of “Man, you really need a kid.”

I’d like to think that I won’t be the kind of parent to push you into any one thing, other than having an imagination. So don’t let my football passing patterns with Murphy fool you into thinking I’m gonna go all Marinovich on you. I promise I won’t. We’ll invent games as we go. Forts and airstrips. Turbulent seas. Music. Whatever you want. I’m not particularly effective at sports, although most of your uncles were pretty successful (and your mother was once a long-jump state record holder in Arizona, truth be told). So you may be good (your mother), or ungainly and poorly coordinated (your father). We’ll all just have to wait and see. Either way, we’ll fly that freak flag high, baby brother. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
I had such a sweet dream about you Saturday night. You had the cutest little smile. I had you against my chest and was giving you lots of kisses, which made you very happy. It was such a nice dream but when I woke up Sunday morning I missed you so much. All Sunday I felt a little off and the house seemed a little too quiet. All day long my arms felt a bit empty and I felt incredibly bored. I am sure once you are here though I will miss the days of being bored in a quiet house.

Today I am off to the zoo with your aunt and cousins. I look forward to the days of carting you around the zoo. I can already see your chubby little fingers pointing at all the animals. I would like to ask you though to be good to me today. Yesterday you must have been hanging out in a weird position because you did a number on my sciatic nerve. I had to spend most of yesterday afternoon and evening in bed. Don’t get me wrong…I love being able to stay in bed here and there but yesterday was bit painful.

I hope you don’t mind it when your dad and I poke around at you. It has been a lot of fun this past week to actually be able to feel body parts! Granted, we have no idea what parts we are feeling but it’s pretty neat to imagine that we are poking your little feet or elbows. We have a doctor’s appointment this Friday so maybe she will be able to give us some advice as to what we are actually feeling. This week’s appointment is somewhat of a big one. They are going to test me for Anemia and Gestational Diabetes. I am sure everything is fine but me being the worrywart that I am, I still worry. Be well in there little one. I love you.

27 weeks

2009-06-10T12:06:00.001-07:00

From Dad...
A strange feeling has been surfacing lately. Something I can only call empty nest syndrome, although that is not exactly technically the case. You haven’t arrived yet, so how can I miss that you’re not here? Odd, I know. But we’ve been so focused on this whole idea of a new baby boy in our house that when things get quiet, everything seems extra quiet and empty. I miss you already. I know enough about all this to realize that I should hang onto that feeling and distribute a little of it to a few months from now when you’re screaming your tiny yet effective little lungs out at 3:38am. But for now, it just seems too quiet. We’re so focused on gearing up for our new little addition that it seems weird that you’re not here yet. And weird that you’re still three months away. And even weirder that barely six months ago we were living in a different house and had no idea you were even on your way. Life does like to hit the hairpins every once in a while. And now that we’ve gotten used to the idea of having little baby brother around, we’re ready for it to happen already. And your mother is such a beautiful, loving, bulging, gorgeous mother-to-be that it’s hard for the mind to wander very far from you, and the wonderful effect you have on her.

And speaking of your mother, you may be starting to run out of room in there. They say you’re growing pretty fast these days, and your mother tells me she can really tell. Your movements are more constricted. And she’s almost able to grab your foot. Or your hand. And you react to her, and poke back or move around or do something in response. That’s pretty exciting. We need to get some more Dr. Seuss books to read to you, as one can only do Fox in Socks so many times before losing a little bit of sanity. But until then, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Oh man, I just read your dad’s blog entry and I am bawling my eyes out. Yes, I am very sensitive these days and hormones do make me cry every minute but your dad has always tugged at my heart like that. I am so anxious for you to meet him. If you are anything like me you will fall in love with him in an instant and never want to spend a single day without him.

We are now officially in the 3rd trimester. Time has been flying by. If how you are in the womb is any indication of how you will be once you are born then I can say you are going to be such a good boy. I hear stories from other moms and read other pregnancy blogs and it makes me realize how good you have been to me. I feel really lucky because this pregnancy has been pretty easy. The beginning was a bit rough with the morning sickness but I can honestly say I feel better pregnant than I have ever felt in my life. Yes, there are strange and uncomfortable things that happen here and there but that is just what comes with being pregnant.

Your kicks and jabs are getting stronger and stronger and I love every one of them. I swear I felt like I could have grabbed your little foot the other day as you were moving around. I can’t wait to tickle your little toes and kiss your tiny feet. I love you little man.

26 weeks

2009-06-03T11:14:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
Okay, so I admit it. I’ve been reading. A lot. Books on pregnancy, books on fatherhood, and books on the things that doulas do. I’ve learned quite a bit. I’ve learned that the human female is a remarkable machine, and that she reforms herself almost completely in order to create this brand new life. I’ve learned there’s a thousand details that all come together to make this thing happen. And I’ve learned the word “doula,” which I admit was a new one for me. I’m trying to learn as much as a can, to make sure I understand as many of those details as my cobwebbed head can hold, not just so that I can be the best father to you, but to help your mother through this as much as I can. She’s really the one holding all the cards, as it were. You and I both need to try to help her out. So you do your part, and I’ll do my best to do mine. Deal?

It seems like we’re still quite a long distance out, but we’ve come so far so fast that I can’t imagine that you’re going to be knocking on the cervical door, so to speak, in only three short months. We’ve been thinking about this idea of a doula, but I’m really hoping that I can be good enough, strong enough, and smart enough to learn enough to be a bit of a quasi-doula. Between me and your nana Huber, we should (knock on wood) be able to serve on the front lines as well as anybody. That’s my hope, at least. But you gotta help me out too, baby brother. We’ve got to learn to communicate, you and me. You know that weird muffled voice you’ve heard reading Fox In Socks every other night or so? That’s me. So start tuning in. And let’s see if we can team up and make it work. But until then, stay warm, be well, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
So Braxton Hicks started up this last week. That made me a bit nervous at first but after a chat with my doctor I was told Braxton Hicks contractions are completely normal at this stage. It just reminds me about how close we are getting to your arrival. It is strange to think that my body is practicing for the big day already! Your dad is getting prepared as well. It is really sweet how much he is getting into this. It’s so comforting to have someone so concerned about us and learning as much as he can so that he can help out on the big day.

He did refer to you as a pimple the other night though. It was pretty funny. He said my tummy looks like you could just squeeze it like a big pimple and a baby will pop out. Ah, if only it could be that easy.

Work is getting a bit more difficult these days. I had a photo shoot the other day for a woman who wanted some pictures taken of her dog. It was a lot of fun but I forget that I can’t move around in the same way that I used to. Usually I do a lot of kneeling down and squatting to get a good shot. It gets a little embarrassing when I squat down and attempt to get back up. Not the most graceful sight in the world!

I hope you are doing well in there little one. I love you.

25 weeks

2009-05-27T10:56:00.001-07:00

From Dad...
If your time in the womb is any indication of how active you’ll be as a little boy, we may be in for a bit of a ride. Bumps, bruises and who-knows-what. Makes your mother a little nervous. Safety and all that. But speaking of safety, we took a step in the right direction this past weekend when your uncle Brad installed a railing on the steps heading out to the back yard and down to the basement. Your big furry brother Murphy, in his zest and zeal to get outside to catch the ball, almost took a spill over the edge before the railing was up, which made your mother very nervous. But now its up. And it’s sturdy. And it’s gorgeous. Let’s all thank your uncle Brad.

Speaking of your tallest uncle, I should warn you that he may have a little trouble pronouncing your name. You may find him calling you “Brad” from time to time, after himself. I’d advise you to just grin and let it be. It’s not because he’s lost his mind. He just wants to name you Brad. Simple as that. And since we all love your uncle Brad, and he’s a funny guy, we figure it’ll all work out just fine. He may compromise and just refer to you as “little B,” which is fine too, but I thought that a quick warning might be in order that his calling you “Brad” isn’t a mispronunciation, just him playing around a bit. Don’t let it bother you. He’s just uncle Brad.

But aside from being a bit of a joker, your uncle Brad is a hell of a carpenter (Yes, I said it. Can we let it slide this one time? “Heck” doesn’t quite cut it. Which reminds me—before too long I’m going to need to start cleaning up my language). He’s planning to put up some wainscot paneling in your room, which will be very very cool. And then after that’s in, we can start painting and all that. One step closer to D-day.

And speaking of D-day, this past weekend was Memorial Day weekend. Your mother and I had a bit of a party and barbeque and spent the rest of it resting and relaxing. I finished up The Expectant Father, a great book your uncle Jeff bought for me. A lot of great stuff. It really started to hit home that you really are on your way. You really will be here soon, and then we’ll all get to find out what we’re really made of. We’re hoping to be as ready as we can. And to be ready for all the stuff that we can’t prepare for as well. Stuff we can learn from books, and stuff we can’t. We’re working hard to make God laugh. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Ahhhh, what a great weekend. Your dad and I had such a great time relaxing in the hammock, reading, talking and playing. I’m pretty sure you enjoyed it as well. You were an active little bugger with your kicks, jabs and somersaults. I would however love for you to let up on my sciatic nerve. We tried to do a hike out at Forest Park last week but I wasn’t able to go far since the pain was too much. At least Murphy was able to jump into a few mud puddles here and there and chase some birds.

Your Nan finished up the glider cushions. They look beautiful! I hope you like to sit in the glider as much as I do. I am sure some great stories will be read in that glider.

You must really be packing on the weight now. My belly button has started to get sore and I can see that my stomach muscles have started to separate. Good times. I cannot believe we are only a couple of weeks away from the 3rd trimester. It seems like just yesterday my mom and I were driving to the store in the middle of the night to get more pregnancy tests because I just couldn’t believe the first positive one! I ended up taking 6 pregnancy tests. That was such a great night! I love you little man.

24 weeks

2009-05-20T09:18:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
So we’re drawn here into the closing moments of the second trimester. Getting frighteningly close to the seventh inning stretch. Is it a coincidence that there are nine months in gestation, and also nine innings in baseball? I think not. All of life’s riddles are answered in baseball. So here we are, closing out the bottom of five and heading into six. It’s a clear day. 75-degrees outside and not a cloud in the sky. A beautiful day for baseball. I won’t say how the game’s going, though. Not because it isn’t going well, mind you. Quite the contrary. It’s really just a superstition thing. You see, baseball is a strange game. It’s about losing more than winning. As a batter, if you get a hit for only one-third of your at-bats, you’re actually doing very well. You’d be .333 and on your way to a really great season. But you’re actually striking out (or otherwise “losing”) a full two-thirds of the time—twice as much as your hits. Such is life, my son. The batter’s box, the ballot box, and the lunch box. That’s pretty much it.

But all that’s a bit beside the point. My point is that baseball is a strange game. And as such, those associated with it are by nature a very superstitious bunch. As are sailors. And so we don’t talk about a no-hitter while we’re in the middle of it. And we don’t talk about the weather while on the deck of a sailboat. These things just aren’t done. They tempt the baseball gods. And the weather man. And we don’t like to do that. So suffice it to say that… so far, so good. Enough said. This picture of your mother says it all.

Oh, by the way, we made a trip to Scandinavia this past weekend and got you a chest which will serve as a great changing table. We bought a new sofa as well. The “Ektorp” they called it. Rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it? One more step in the right direction. We’ll probably pick up a crib for you in the next couple of days. It’s all coming together. By the seventh inning stretch, we might be almost nearly ready. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Hey little man. Don’t worry if you are totally confused by your father. He confuses me all the time. ☺ You had a great night last night at bedtime. Your dad read to you your first storybook. He read, “Fox in Sox” by Dr. Seuss. When he was reading you were kicking up a storm! He was pretty shocked to look over at my belly and see you moving around. Your dad has also been playing piano for you lately. We are going to get some more sheet music soon so he can play different songs for you.

I’ve been having dreams about you lately. In my dreams you are such a sweet baby. I am sure they are signs of what’s to come. I am getting so anxious to meet you. I wonder if you will have chubby little cheeks, if you will have lots of hair on your head, if your eyes will be brown or blue. I look forward to seeing your little face and touching your little toes. I love you little man.

23 weeks

2009-05-13T12:27:00.001-07:00

From Dad...
Time gets short. The reading intensifies. The studying. The discussions. The planning. And it’s not even summer yet. I guess it all just boils down to us wanting the very best for you when you arrive, which makes us get a little obsessed at times. We were offered a really great stroller for you this last weekend, a generous gift from good friends. You’ll love it, and it’s got a good history. We bought some really cool UNKL prints for your room last Thursday night, some great characters that’ll intrigue you, we’re sure, and probably spark all kinds of unanswerable questions. You’ll probably be much more hip than your parents. At least we hope so.

We had our first quasi-Mother’s Day on Sunday. We weren’t quite sure if we could call it official or not, since you’re still, well, tethered together as it were. But we went with it anyway. Called it “Incubator’s Day” in our case. Went with your nana to the Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden and strolled through the trees and the flowers and the ducks and geese. Really gorgeous day for it. The place was packed. I think your mother and I spent more time scoping out strollers than looking at the flowers. We’re starting to get serious, kid.

Your mother went on a manic activity spree on Monday—she trimmed the rhododendron in front, did some weed whacking, cleaned the house, vacuumed, mopped the floor, and installed a front screen door (twice). She paid the price yesterday, though. You’re making all her muscles rearrange themselves, and it really knocks her down the day after that kind of activity. Poor thing. And I should probably pass along that you’re not exactly helping, what with the dancing on her bladder and everything. Again, try to take it easy on your mother. She’s working hard. It’s not easy making a human.

Well that’s it for the moment. Not much else to report. Until next time, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
So they say that by week 23 baby is 1 pound. Congratulations on your first pound my sweet boy! No wonder your kicks and wiggles are getting so strong! I have noticed some new things about you and me. I have discovered that you like music. When I crank up my tunes you dance around in there. It’s pretty cute. You seem to like the Stars and Jon Hopkins. Good choices kid!

I also noticed something the other night when I was relaxing in the bathtub. My tummy has become a little island during bath time. No longer does it hang out under water. It is now Island Kerr. My belly button is going through some changes as well. It has not yet popped out but it’s getting there. Each day it gets a little more flat. I am convinced that I hid a little toy in there when I was a little girl and maybe one of these days I will be reunited with it! Or maybe I hid a Skittle in there and soon it will be all mine!

Your dad has been so kind to us. With my crazy moods and fluctuations between insanely high and low energy I though for sure he would start to lose his mind. He hasn’t though. He has been incredibly sweet and supportive. You are sooooo lucky to have him as a father. He is going to be an incredible dad. He and Murphy are looking forward to the days when you can join them for a game of catch in the back yard.

Take care Baby Kerr and know I love you dearly.

22 weeks

2009-05-06T11:12:00.001-07:00

From dad...
First of all, an apology for missing last week’s post. Your mother was in the mountains of Colorado dancing among the wildflowers singing songs about how the hills are alive and Rocky Mountain highs and so on. So we missed our post. Sorry about that. Maybe that’s a small sign of us being more about ourselves than about you. Or maybe it’s nothing more than your mother forgetting to pack the USB cord for the camera which meant she couldn’t download pictures so we decided to skip the week. She forgets a lot of stuff these days. But that’s okay. We forgive her. She’s a human oven after all, and that takes a toll on a person.

Side note: USB cords, by the way, are something that may already be gone by the time you are born, or at least by the time you are old enough to understand what a USB cord is—all of which is a little weird, since I’m from the prehistoric world of the Commodore 64 and am struggling a little bit with getting older and hearing these punks on TV say, “yeah, I grew up watching American Idol and always dreamed of being on the show.” I may officially be an old man now. But I digress…

So we’re past the halfway point. I got a chance to clear out your room while your mother was gone, so now we can start filling it with all the gear for your arrival. Things are starting to come together. I felt you moving around a little bit last night, which was really cool, although a little hard to discern. Your mother says you’ve really been moving around and kicking up a storm. Treating her bladder like a trampoline. I have to admit, that doesn’t sound comfortable at all. But then again nothing about being pregnant really does. So we try to be nice to mommy. And that goes for you too. Try to take it easy. At least for now. Be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Happy 22 weeks kid! I took you on your first big trip last week to Denver, Colorado. You seemed to enjoy yourself and I think everyone else enjoyed you too. My brother Jeff and his family were very excited to see my growing belly. You seemed to grow a lot while we were there. It was hard to be away from your dad for a whole week. Everyday I noticed something different going on in there and it was hard not being able to share that with him.

Your kicks are getting stronger and even though they are a bit uncomfortable at times I still love them so much. I have begun to notice that you have your own little routines. You kick up a storm when I wake up in the morning, when I eat, and when I lay down at bedtime. I love you kid.

20 weeks...halfway there!

2009-04-22T11:55:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
Well I’m glad to see that you listened to your father. Well done. See, we’re already off to a good start. You gave us a good look at the twig and berries, let us know the score, so to speak. You sure did give the ultrasound tech a bit of a dance, though, didn’t you? She had to chase you all over the place. Is that a sign of things to come? I know that your mother’s a little worried about being able to keep up with you. You’re making her tired already. And tired = cranky. So could you take it easy on her a little? If not for her, then at least do it for me. As for keeping up with you, as a dad I get to sit in the yard squinting, mouth agape, watching you tear around the place with a dumb, lost look on my face just before taking another pull off my Pabst and pointing at the hole in the hedge through which you’d just disappeared. Such is the benefit of being a dad.

In all seriousness, though. We’re both very excited about having little baby brother (that’s you) coming into the world. In a couple of years you’re going to have the best playmate any red-blooded American boy would love: a big, soft, gentle, loving, face-licking, ball-chasing yellow Labrador older brother. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
I almost had your dad write for me today because I am so incredibly grumpy. Kid, you are doing some crazy things to my body. My back feels like it is about to explode. I can’t even imagine how it is going to feel a couple months down the road! It’s ok though, you are totally worth it. :)

It was so exciting to see you on Friday. You have the cutest little feet and button nose. You sure are an active one! Everyday I feel you moving around in there and each day you get stronger and stronger. It seems you to like to play games with my bladder. I think you like to kick it around here and there.

I am so happy to know you are a boy. I do worry about my ability to keep up with you, especially knowing how the Kerr and Huber boys are. I am sure you will always keep us on our toes while laughing and loving it all! I love you Baby Kerr.

It's a boy!

2009-04-18T16:48:00.001-07:00

19 weeks part 2

2009-04-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
So I have a request. I’m hoping it’s only a small favor, but in truth, even though I’ve been in your position myself (as have we all), I don’t know how difficult these things are—that is, could you possibly, if it’s not too much trouble, tomorrow morning around 10:30am sort of stretch out a little and well—not to be too crass—show us your naughty bits? We’re really excited to find out if you’re a boy or a girl. Not that it’ll matter much. We fancy ourselves as progressive enough parents to give equally brilliant loving and caring parenting either way. But it’d be nice to know. Otherwise we (well, really just me) fall into calling you “it” from time to time, which I’m sure you’ll agree is just plain wrong. But saying “the baby” in casual sentences is a lot of work, as it usually requires some grammar restructuring to accommodate. It’s hard to avoid gender-specific pronouns. So if it’s not too much trouble, I know we’d both appreciate you getting yourself into a position so the ultrasound camera can see you properly. And if you help us out, I promise we won’t pimp you out to Hollywood or Us magazine as soon as you’re born, as our close, dear friends Brad and Angelina have done. So until tomorrow, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
Some of the things I love about you:
You are half of Brian.
You are half of me.
You already make the strongest men in my family cry.
You are a continuation of all the ones we have loved and have lost.
You bring out emotions in your father I have never seen.
At all the right times you let me know with a poke you are alright.
You have inspired great conversations with people I had lost touch with.
You make me happy, scared, excited, and full of love all at the same time.
You make me forget about all the things that make me mad.
You remind me everday how much I love your father.
You are my son or daughter.
I love you Baby Kerr.

19 weeks part 1

2009-04-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately we won't be doing our usual belly update today. Brian is gone all day so we will be doing it tomorrow. I have posted a lovely picture though to tie you guys over until tomorrow. This is my brother Brad and his dog Jack. I am such a lucky girl to have a brother who is going through a pregnancy at the same time as me! Maybe we can even share our maternity cloths! :) Brad has pretty much named Baby Kerr already. It doesn't matter if baby is a boy or a girl he has decided the name will be Baby Brad. Let's hope we have a boy! :)

18 weeks

2009-04-08T11:00:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
They say that time flies when you’re having fun, which is true, but it really hits the warp drive when you’ve got a ton of things to do. Like now. Still trying to get all moved in so that we can start arranging your little room, and the weeks are peeling off the calendar like a montage from a fifties movie. Need to get new furniture for you—a crib and plenty of diaper storage. We both know you’re going to love your new home. There’s a great tree out front with a big branch that’s perfect for a little swing. But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself on that—no swings until next summer, for sure. At the earliest. We’ll see. Ask your mother. Let that be a lesson to you (I’m practicing my parental disciplinarian tone—is it working?). At any rate, your mother’s been feeling your little butterfly movements more and more. And the other night she felt you from the outside, which was a first. I tried to see if I could feel, but pressing on the belly only made me feel the pulse in my own fingers. No butterfly effect for me. But before long I’m sure I’ll get to feel a kick or two. As long as you let me. I suppose all that is really up to you. But until then, this is your father (the one who makes those weird droning/singing noises from the outside) saying that I already love you, and look forward to meeting you. And throwing a ball. And reading stories. And painting. And digging in the dirt. And chasing Murphy around. And whatever you’re into on whatever particular day. But until then, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking.

From Mom...
We are just about half way there little one. There are still times when I cannot believe we are really having a baby. We tried for such a long time to bring you into our lives and there were moments when I began to doubt if it would ever happen. You really are a little miracle.

You sure are doing some crazy things to my body! Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and don’t recognize the person staring back at me. It has been pretty cool though to know there is a little human growing in me right now. All the changes are definitely worth it.

Grace, the little girl who lives next door to our old house gave you a gift yesterday. She gave you her favorite toy from when she was a baby. I think you are going to love it. You will adore her. I hope you are well in there. I love you Baby Kerr.

17 weeks

2009-04-01T15:46:00.000-07:00

From Dad...
So your mother and I are still trying to settle into the house that will become your home. Boxes everywhere and lost things, but it’s all starting to come together. We’re sorry we’re using your room as a sort of staging area, and are filling it with all the boxes we can’t quite figure out, but it shouldn’t be long now. By next post, I’m hoping, we’ll have it fairly well cleared, and on its way to taking shape as your little newborn landing pad.

We’re looking forward to seeing you again, and the little rippling nugget of your grainy black and white heartbeat. Just over two weeks till the next ultrasound. We’re both looking forward to seeing what you’ve got in store for us. You’ve given your mother a couple of nice little tickles (which she really likes, by the way), so maybe you’re getting your feisty little self ready to put on a show. So until next time, be well, stay warm, and happy cooking!

From Mom...
I felt you moving around in there for the first time a few days ago. It was so nice to know you are doing well. I think you already are wanting to play with Murphy. And he wants to play with you. Last night while watching TV, he was cuddling with me and had his head resting on my belly. I could feel you moving around, and he probably did too. You will like Murphy... you guys'll be best friends for sure. I can't wait to see you during our ultrasound on the 17th! Hopefully you'll let us know if Murphy is going to have a little sister or a little brother. My dad thinks you will be a boy, and he has been right with all 8 grandkids so far.

Anyway, your dad likes to say hello to you everyday. Once we get settled he will have to play some piano for you. Well, grandma is here to pick me up for dinner so I better sign off. I love you Baby Kerr. :)