The Best Baking Day of the Year

We held Lebkuchen Day early this year.  Remember those German spice cookies I was talking about?  In my household growing up, my dad kind of made them a big deal.  There are people who get really psyched when their football team does well; and people who are Disneyland fanatics and go every year; and in this part of the country, there are lots of people who get all goosebumpy for hunting season (the deer opener is like a major holiday).  Well, my dad's annual mark-your-calendars, tell-your-friends, get-ready-to-parTAY event is Lebkuchen Day.  Like the football fans and the Disney geeks and the hunters, Dad has specific tools and paraphernalia for the occasion: a marble rolling pin, a butcher-block table for rolling and cutting, and "sanctified" cookie sheets, which are (seriously) only used once a year: for Lebkuchen.

Officially, Lebkuchen Day is the Saturday before Thanksgiving.  Since he and Mom crank out around 400 cookies, it's pretty much an all-day affair.  It has its own music to go along with it, too: "Mary's Boy Child" by Boney M is always the kick-off theme.

The week before Lebkuchen Day is Batterday Saturday, the day on which the dough is made.  Hours are spent cutting dates (a sticky business) and chopping walnuts.  One batch produces a bowling-ball-sized lump of dense, heavy, dark-colored dough, smelling of molasses and holiday spices.

To be honest, I barely even liked Lebkuchen when I was a kid.  There is a verse in the Bible that says "Train up a child in the way he should go, and even when he is old, he will not depart from it."  There should also be one that says "Raise a kid on Lebkuchen, and when he grows up he'll love them."  Because I love them now, so much that I can't imagine a holiday season without them.  They are the flavor of Christmas for me.

So, since Jabberwocky is due the day before Batterday Saturday, Anders and I did our Lebkuchen baking early.  His parents came down, and I put them to work for the final stage of the process: glazing.  I don't know how much fun they had, but let me tell you, they were both fantastic.  I got such a kick out of watching their concentration.

Here are pics.

My mother-in-law treating the Lebkuchen with the care and respect they deserve.

This is one batch, around 100 cookies.  We usually make two batches but cut down this year.  Dad makes four batches.

My parents will also do Lebkuchen early this year to accommodate their trip to Wisconsin to see Jabberwocky.  So it looks like my sister's household will be the only one to stick to the official baking schedule!

2:45 - 4:00 a.m.

At 2:45 a.m. I woke up to go to the bathroom and then didn't feel sleepy.  The doctor's office gave me a sheet called "baby's report card" and told me to monitor Jabberwocky's movements with it, by lying on my side and counting kicks.  They don't want her to move less than ten times in two hours.  So while awake in bed last night, I told Jabberwocky I needed her to move five times in the next hour.  She moved five times in seven minutes.  So then I stopped bothering to count, but still couldn't sleep, so I just lay my hand on my belly and enjoyed feeling her, my wonderful little Jabberwocky, doing whatever she's doing in there.  And I talked to God too.  It was a sweet time ...

An hour later I was tired of being awake.  And my hips were killing me.  And then she got the hiccups.  And then I had to go to the bathroom again ...

After that we went through a ten-minute period where she literally moved constantly.  When she finally paused, I said, "Okay, we'll count that as one ..."

Full-term!

As of two days ago, I'm considered full-term!  37 weeks!  Baby can come whenever she wants now!  I can cross off "pre-term labor" from the list of things to worry about!

It's time to admit that I'm tired of being pregnant.  1.) Tired of the difficulty of getting into the driver's seat of my Corolla.  I open the car door, take a breath, and then just sort of pitch myself sideways and downwards and hope I land safely.  2.) Tired of dropping my car keys all the time (clumsiness comes with pregnancy, but know what should come instead?  Exceptional dexterity and super fast reflexes.  That'd be way more helpful).  I drop my car keys maybe once in three times that I pull them from my purse.  When this happens I stand there for a few seconds and stare at them deflatedly before stooping to retrieve them.  3.) Tired of stooping in general.  When I get to work in the mornings the newspaper is sitting outside the front door.  I've started kicking it inside, then kicking it up the couple stairs in the entryway, then maneuvering it halfway up the counter with my foot until it's an easier reach.  4.) I grunt and groan like I'm already in labor - just to put on socks.  5.) Especially, emphatically tired of the time between going to bed and getting up - those hours which used to pass by all in one solid block of undisturbed unconsciousness, and which are now filled with so many aches and pains and trips to the bathroom and bouts of insomnia that I might as well trade them in for getting up to nurse a baby.

People have mentioned that the nine months of pregnancy go by fast for everyone else, and stretch on forever for the person who's pregnant.  Not true for me - pregnancy flew by!  I think this was mostly because I didn't believe I was pregnant until about five months in.  I knew I was, but it didn't feel real.  I thought the end of pregnancy might sneak up and catch me off guard.

Well, time has slowed down.  My hospital bag is packed.  From here on it'll be less scrambling to get ready, and more just - waiting!

Dr. Weber knows his stuff!

Today I saw my doctor again for the first time in a while.  The last few appointments have been with substitute doctors or the maternity counselor.

I got up on the bench and lay down like usual.  He had his hands on my belly for about two seconds, and said "You just had a contraction!"

I said, "What! No I didn't."

"Yep, your uterus just tightened and then relaxed.  You didn't feel it?"

"No!"

"Like most women at this stage, you're probably having 2 or 3 contractions an hour."

I was flabbergasted by this.  I would like for contractions during labor to continue being this painless please!

He then gently felt around for about another second-and-a-half, and immediately pronounced: "Her head's here, back here, butt here, and feet here."

It was fantastic how effortless it was for him to tell what was going on in there.  I've been trying to get them to tell me this the past couple of appointments and they haven't been sure.  Dr. Weber knew the moment he felt Jabberwocky the exact way she's curled up; and happily, it's head-down.

Both the women from my office who beat me to the punch with having babies this fall brought them to the office today.  If I weren't about to have a baby, I'd sure be geared up to start trying now.  One of them had a bottle, and I'm still hearing her sweet little sucking noises in my head.  Oh I'm getting excited for mine to come.

I cause a slight disturbance and Anders is heroic

Yesterday morning, as my alarm was going off for the eighth time and I was starting to think about actually getting up, I lifted my arm and knocked over the large cup of water on my nightstand.  I keep a cup of water there every night, and it has often occurred to me that given the dark and its proximity to the alarm clock, a tip-over was bound to happen someday.  Up I hopped, turned on the light, and began throwing books on the bed and mopping up water.  As you might imagine, this commotion somewhat disturbed my sleeping husband.  He groggily asked if I needed help.  "No," I said.  Which was asinine.  I then tried to move the nightstand by tugging on it.

1.) You might remember that I'm 8 months pregnant.  2.) The nightstand is a solid piece of wood furniture with 2 drawers full of crap and a heavy lamp on top, all combining to make an object of considerable heaviness. 3.) We have hardwood floors, and there aren't any fuzzy felt things on the underside of the nightstand's feet to protect the floors or facilitate sliding.

The worst-case scenario would have been that my nightstand-moving efforts caused my membranes to rupture (I honestly am still not completely sure what that phrase means), sending me into pre-term labor, and gauged the wood floor at the same time.  That would have made for a better story, but thankfully didn't happen.  What happened was precisely nothing.  The nightstand sat there like a rock and I realized I was an idiot.

Anders realized this at the same time, and got up to take over.  I stood back and watched for a few seconds, then announced that I was going to take a shower, and left him to it.

All in all it must have been a pleasant morning for Anders.

Here's how he responded, after first moving the nightstand and mopping up the water: once I was dressed, he hugged me for a long time.  Later in the morning he sent me an encouraging email.  And when I came home he had cleaned, and he helped me bring in groceries even though the Brewers game was on the radio.

Yeah, I really like him.

This reminds me of the time that I accidentally poured our fish down the drain and Anders reached in and retrieved him by hand.  What do people do without husbands?

Week 36

Well folks, the significance of today is that it's the last Eleventh before Jabberwocky's due date.  Holy smokes!

Today I had my 36-week check-up at the doctor's.  They took my blood again.  Now, blood in general is something that I don't like to have much to do with.  Needles make me pale and shaky.  I dread the lab.  The first couple times I had my blood drawn, the lab girls chatted with me to distract me from what was happening, and that was nice.  Once Anders came along and I looked fixedly at him and talked all the way through it. 

People who are not squeamish don't get squeamishness.  They just don't understand that heart-racing weak-kneed feeling we squeamish people get from things like blood.  My lab girl today didn't chat with me.  I was on the point of starting up with "How 'bout them Brewers?" a couple times, but was too nervous.  And then, with the needle in my arm and blood seeping into the little glass vial, she said this: "ha, it's gurgling!"

I was NOT amused.  I kept my eyes averted and did not smile and tried to have happy thoughts.

Then after that I pre-registered for Labor Day, so they can bustle me right on up to the delivery room when I walk in the hospital door.  And now I'll be going to the doctor every week!  This is like, final countdown stage!

Gettin' a little weary

Yesterday I clipped my toenails.  Any chance I won't have to do that again until after Jabberwocky is born?

Okay, I am getting uncomfortable.  My belly keeps running into things.  Like, I keep closing the washing machine door on it and stuff like that.  Or scooting in too close to my desk.

My mother keeps cheerfully saying that God is good, because he makes us miserable during the last weeks of pregnancy.  Basically, He's bringing me to the "GET THIS KID OUTTA HERE!" stage.  Because otherwise we'd all be scared witless about labor, or something like that.

I am not quite there yet - but I could see myself getting there in the next month.  I feel a new kind of tired now, the kind I associate with spending all day in the kitchen prepping a big meal: a foot-aching, back-aching, full-body fatigue - except it's how I feel when I get up in the morning. 

Jabberwocky hates it when I slouch.  She pushes with great irritation on my ribs to make me sit up straighter.

Jabberwocky's nursery!

As mentioned, our nursery is blue.  We painted it over a year ago after moving in.  It was supposed to be a nice light neutral gray, and it didn't look blue until it was all over the walls.  Even now, looking at the color swatch I saved, I swear there is no way you would know it's blue and not gray.
In pondering how to prepare a blue room for a girl baby, I decided to paint an accent wall.  Dark blue.

Anders was confused about how making a blue room bluer would add the touch of femininity we were after.  I really didn't have an answer, other than that it would include a tree: 

which I frog-taped to the wall in lieu of a stencil.  And here's a better look at the crib:

I shopped in stores and spent hours online browsing for bedding.  One day I noticed that I had posted two different pictures of the SAME bedding set to Pinterest, separately and unknowingly, first from Target and then from Babies R Us.  So I figured my shopping was over and this was the set to get.  I adore it!

Here's the owl tree I made from felt, which was fun and ridiculously time-consuming.  The owls have velcro backs and can be rearranged:

 I'll have pleasant memories of sewing these little dudes, alternately listening to Brewers games on the radio and this wonderful version of "The Velveteen Rabbit" (three times total) which I grew up with, and downloaded specifically to be my owl-tree-making background entertainment.

Cute wittle baby clothes!

I'll have to get a better picture of these once they're up on the wall.  They're owl paintings I got from this etsy shop and they're fantastic.  They look so great in their colorful frames from Michaels.

The wall sure looks gray here, doesn't it?  But it's blue in person!  This classic, huggable teddy bear came from my sister, and the lamp was another one of the things I posted on Pinterest and then decided to buy.

This is a Noah's Ark music box that plays "Jesus Loves Me."  I got it at a consignment store for $8 and it's beautiful and flawless!  See how the ark is on top of a little globe?  And see the owls?

National League Division Series - Games 1 and 2 with Dad

Anders here. I took over this blog from Emily for an afternoon.

Baseball with my father is interwoven between my childhood, teenage years, college, and professional career. The memories that exist between the sport and time spent with him remain strong: Forcing me to keep my glove down when fielding ground balls. Telling me to give pitching a try. Playing catch. Taking me to regular season Brewers games.

Add another memory to that list: Celebrating the Brewers' first division title in my lifetime by spending last weekend in Milwaukee, watching the Crew's first two home playoff games with him. As you can see below, life was good.

Louie's wild rice brats sizzling on the grill.

The finished product from the grillmaster. Delicious.

The obstructed view seats I won in the Brewers lottery. Dad had the better seat to the right of this one. The view was far from perfect, but the time with my Dad was.

Soaking in the Brewers Game 1 NLDS victory and biding our time before leaving the stadium. We also safely reveled in the victory with other fans in the parking lot after the game, for about an hour.

Before Game 2 on Sunday, Dad starting to saute the mushrooms for this....

My tender New York Strip and Dad's butterflied fillet mignon. Tailgating in Milwaukee is great.

Waiting for the start of Game 2.

Our seats improved for Game 2, thanks to a connection Dad has with a season ticket holder. (Above, Jerry Hairston Jr. ripping a double to left to start the five-run rally for the Brewers. Another Brewers win.)

Women like to relive labor

It's very easy for labor stories to come up when women are around someone who's pregnant.  They start out by sweetly asking how things are going.  Then suddenly they're saying things like this:

"I was in labor on a Monday and I delivered on THURSDAY!"

"I pushed for 10 STRAIGHT HOURS!"

"For 20 hours my contractions were 2 MINUTES APART!"

Even my boss came up to me the other day and told me his sister just had her baby.  "Congratulations," I said.  "He was 9 lbs, 4 oz," he said.  "Ouch."

Actually I prefer to hear the horror stories; I want to be so prepped for the worst that when it comes down to it, I can say "that wasn't so bad" ...

Nope.  I can't imagine myself ever saying "that wasn't so bad" about labor.  I'm pretty sure God saw to that in Genesis 3 - "in pain you will bring forth children."

Week 34

Anders and his dad are on their way to Milwaukee for games 1 & 2 of the play-offs!  This is perhaps the pinnacle of excitement for my baseball-loving husband.  (It's up to Jabberwocky to top this.  I think she'll do it.)  They're prepped with brats and tailgating paraphernalia, and jackets, because it's going to be chilly!  The parking lot of Miller Park will be one gigantic, jovial party this weekend.

I'm going to spend the day washing baby clothes.

Wednesday night we had our tour of the birthing facility.  I was very eager for the tour, because it's reassuring to be able to picture the place in my mind as I anticipate Labor Day.  The birthing facility is lovely.  The rooms are spacious with wood and soothing colors and dimmable lights and hot tubs.  It was a bonus that during our walk-through, we didn't hear any shrieks from women giving birth or see doctors running through the halls.  (What do the tour guides do if something like that happens?)  It was very quiet, and all we saw were peaceful, smiling nurses.

Yesterday afternoon I had another one of my quickie doctor's appointments.  Jabberwocky's heart rate was 170, the highest it's been.  The nurse asked if she's been active, and i said yes, i think she's wearing a little sweatband and has a kickboxing video going on in there.