Sure, I'll Be Blogging Chicago Soon.....

But in the meantime, here's some pics of J in his Sunday best (thanks, Sarah!!)

Child of mine....

D happens to be a notorious baby equipment destroyer. He is therefore (technically) not allowed to play with J's baby playmat. This is no way deters him, as the following pictures will show:



He apparently feels comfortable enough to fall asleep and get caught in the act. Little stinker.

A Little Triumph

Have you ever started to feel a little unsure of yourself in a social situation, and then it maybe turns into a bit of paranoia, and eventually you snowball into a strange sinking feeling that makes you want to first throw up and then go hide? Every now and then I fall prey to this craziness, and I just can’t come back up for air.

I’ve unfortunately battled these little incidents all my life. It’s self-centered and self-indulgent in a way—as if everyone is somehow obsessed with judging me. And I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s still a tangible sensation that leaves me emotionally exhausted. My customary reaction is to throw my hands up and flee---usually with a half-gallon of ice cream somewhere close by.

Yesterday, after a series of disappointing events, this all-too-familiar feeling reared its ugly head. Right away I began preparations to go into seclusion and wait it out in my usual woe-is-me style.

But then I got mad. I didn’t have time to deal with this! Why in the world was I letting other people have this much power over me? Giving into self-pity seemed demeaning and idiotic and---weak! So for the first time in as long as I can remember, I swallowed it down. I furrowed my brow, and I shook it off my shoulders. Not this time.

And do you want to know the weirdest part? It worked! Calling myself out and angrily refusing to wallow seemed the very thing I needed. I was actually able to put that bizarre, debilitating feeling on the back-burner and have a wonderful night talking with friends without any lingering self-doubt. It was so freeing.

I really hope I can remember how to do it next time.

Notes on the Week

1) The boys started swimming lessons! I watch them from afar (they don’t like the parents too close---apparently its distracting) as they kick their little legs and ice-cream scoop their arms. They’re having a really great time because they have church friends in their class---and I’m having fun because I get some mommy chitchat time!

2) I locked myself out of the house again. We really need to hide a key somewhere. The boys and I had an impromptu (and stiflingly hot) jaunt in the park while daddy drove ALL the way back from Galveston to unlock the door. So much for my productive day. Where is my brain lately?

3) Counting down until our big Chicago vacation! We haven’t seen S’s family in almost a year, and in that time Phil and Jessica had their first baby boy just weeks after J was born. We are anxious to get the two together for a playdate (translation—put them side by side on a playmat and oo and ah while they stare at the ceiling fan).

4) I’m finally back on track with some health goals (after a ridiculously long hiatus) and I’ve made a bit of progress. I hate it and love it at the same time.

5) Our air-conditioner is being unusually temperamental lately. If the temperature outside gets to 100 (which it soon will every day), then it decides to stop working. We had some guy come look at it and he told us he couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Will this be the dreaded summer in which the Grundbergs face their dire hatred of heat? Our finances say yes.

6) I’d like to round off this post with a few adorable pictures of J in the Bumbo (what an ingenious, hilarious little device this is…)

My Ear Hurts, Dangit!

So I will no longer be a patient of Dr. Nirmal in South Shore.

Last Saturday, I noticed my ear was starting to clog up and hurt a little bit. By Monday it was hurting like crazy. I called Dr. Nirmal (her credentials being that she was close by AND had an appointment available) so that I could get this thing nipped in the bud. They prescribed me some topical meds and I applied them religiously.

Well, four painful days and a kajillion phone calls later, I've FINALLY convinced them (meaning Dr. Nirmal and her charming nurse Connie---she really is a sweetie, I'm not being sarcastic) that my medication isn't working, seeing as how my ear still hurts like crazy and I can hear NOTHING out of it. I mean, how are topical antibiotics going to help when your ear canal is swollen SHUT? Seriously?? And I'm not even a doctor.

After much cajoling, she finally prescribed me some oral antibiotics. WHY should I have to cajole my doctor in the first place? Was she afraid I'd O.D. on amoxicillin?

At any rate--hopefully this will solve it. Honestly, I haven't had an ear infection in a over decade, but I certainly don't remember them being so drama-ridden. And so I'm done with Dr. Nirmal's office. I don't care how charming Connie is.

Losing It

My main problem with listening to music lately is that when I hear a song worth listening to, I immediately want to MAKE that music. And not just solo Jenny on an acoustic guitar---that's not good enough. I want to completely recreate it, with a tight rhythm section, singers and a conga player who are my best friends and an amazing lead guitarist who I get to kiss when I go home at night.

I want to be able to close my eyes and be wholly enveloped in the pulsing beats and joyful cacophony. But I don't just want to drown in it--I also want to be a part of it--an important, VITAL part. When I hear the music, I want to BE the music maker.

Well, last night I had an opportunity to fulfill this wish in part with a small group of friends who invited me to sing with their band. I was thrilled to do this—finally a chance to exercise those talents and take part in an energizing creative experience.

Unfortunately, I seemed to have been lost in a mist of narcissism, seeing as how I declined to study any of the music we’d be playing—thinking that I’d “just read the music and wing it.” I didn’t even review anything I already knew because I assumed it was just like riding a bike—you never really forgot how.

Well, guess what? You do. When it came time for me to do my thing, I froze like an ice sculpture. I was positively rigid with fear of sounding like an idiot. And in my utter lack of confidence, that’s exactly what I did. I sounded like a timid, soulless coward tremulously trying to add my mewlings to the fray. What a nightmare. I was humiliated. And the worst part is that the opportunity to do something like this won’t likely come again.

So here’s my choice. I can close that chapter of my life for good. It was notably fabulous while it lasted, but it’s over now and I obviously don’t have the hutzpah (or reason) to keep it up nowadays.

Or…

I can get over myself, pick up my guitar and teach myself all over again how to perform with gusto instead of gutlessness. It angers me because there’ll be no progression here---merely trying to remember things I used to know. But I don’t want to lose it. Even if the glory days are over I don’t want to lose it.

We’ll see how it goes.

J Update

I took J in for his 2 month appt. one week late, and then forgot to blog about it for another 2 weeks--so while he's technically almost THREE months old, this is his 2 month update. Hmmm. Is that clear?

As of May 28, 2010, J's stats are as follows:

Weight: 12 lbs, 4 oz/ 50th percentile
Height: 24 1/4 inches/75 percentile
Head: 40.5cm/25-50th percentile

Despite his seemingly benign expression in this next picture, he was screaming his head off just seconds before. I don't know why he was so incredibly insulted by my putting him in that cute little robe.

I was trying to get him to smile in this picture, but he seemed to stop every time I got the camera out. And that little hand on top is David--he can't seem to restrain himself from putting his hands all over J's head/face/eyeballs, etc. It's a constant battle. Also, J has extremely dry skin, and so I'm constantly slathering him with baby lotion (hence the healthy sheen.


Here's that smile I was trying for. J really is one of the jolliest babies I know. As long as he's not sleepy, hungry or uncomfortable, he's usually cooing or making other unbelievably adorable sounds at us. And sometimes he likes to just stare at the wall (which seems to be strangely exciting for him)

He loves being outside. S will usually take him in the backyard while he's working on the garden, and J will quietly look around with an intense look on his face. I like to think his brain is drinking in a million observations at once. (And look at his eyes---will they stay blue?)

I am really enjoying this baby. Sure, getting used to the whole three kids thing is hard, but all in all--he's just an absolute joy. I really wish I'd been more laid back and less stressed out with my other two. It's nice to be able to just bask in his sweetness and...well, to just be still.

Why Is it...

that I never seem to be able to hang on to a pair of sunglasses for longer than a month or maybe two before breaking or losing them? (Well, the breaking has to do with my fantastically cheap taste in sunglasses, and come to think of it, I'm abnormally absent-minded and I lose everything [*cough* cell phone], so I guess this isn't really that much of a mystery.

It IS, however, a wretched inconvenience for someone like me who has the sun-sensitivity of a mole. My crow's feet are turning into pteradactyl's feet due to incessant squinting.

Making Our Gardens Grow...

My friend Emmaly came over when I was about a besquillion months pregnant and helped me dig a garden. She got me pretty stoked about getting a garden started, and I somehow got Steven pretty stoked in turn. The product was two cute little garden plots with veggies galore. We planted tomatoes, bell peppers, jalapenos, broccoli, eggplant, squash, cucumbers, onions, potatoes, herbs, blackberries, blueberries, corn and even peanuts!

Steven has really taken over the gardening thing---what with me being a little more than occupied trying to keep the 2 Tasmanian devils from smothering the Jakester. It’s actually become a bit of stress reliever for him. Usually the first thing he does when he comes home is change into his Farmer Joe clothes and go work outside until dinner’s ready.

All of his hard work has really paid off. First, it looked like this:
And then like this:

And now it looks like this:


We’ve already been able to harvest quite a few green beans and a bell pepper or two. Our tomato plants are a bit out of control, but they’re on their way. The squash and cucumbers have completely taken over the garden behind the shed, and we’re afraid they might actually start to breed and then we’ll have to eat squcumbers. The corn unfortunately got aphids and the birds have eaten all the blackberries, but other than that, it’s been a highly successful experience. One of the highlights of our day is going out back to inspect the garden’s progress. We’ve learned a lot about what to grow and what not to grow, and so hopefully next year will be even more fruitful.


And believe it or not (brace yourself), I’ve never been so excited to eat vegetables in my life. I pluck green beans off the vine and eat them like candy. I’m crossing my fingers that this whole gardening thing will be the key to teaching our kids to have a lifelong love affair with fruits and veggies.

Funny Pics of My Kids

J's brand new and slightly manic smile

D's new modeling pose a la "Zoolander"

Here's what S Jr. does nowadays when you ask him to smile

No explanation for this one.

Matrix S Jr. (doesn't he look slammin' in my light sensitivity shades?)

Mmmmm Hmmm (you'll just have to imagine his little head swivel)