I'm taking over.

Hi folks, Rose here. I've decided to take matters into my own hands. Like the e-trade baby, I have learned to type, and will be soon taking over the family finances. But, to warm up, I'm starting with learning to blog. Let's face it, I can't be worse than my mother.

Speaking of mom, she's hovering over me right now. She tries not to hover too often, but she can't help herself sometimes. Truthfully, I don't really mind, but daughters are supposed to complain about their mothers. So, there you have it.

My dad isn't too bad. I really like falling asleep in the crook of his arm while he lazes on the couch. As a matter of fact, I think I may do that as soon as I'm done with this blog post. Give me a pacifier, a belly-full of rice cereal, and my daddy, and I am one happy baby.

Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm eating solid foods now. I turned six months old today, and so I decided to celebrate with a big bowl of rice cereal and a dash of oatmeal for dessert. I also like sitting up on my own, though I'm still a little wobbly. Momma bought a new rug for the living room, with a very soft and squishy pad underneath. (Remember what I said about hovering? She wasn't hovering close enough last night when I tipped over...good thing she bought that cushy rug pad.)

Well, I had better let you all go. I have to catch the rest of Dancing With the Stars (it's my guilty pleasure). I will leave you with a couple pictures of yours truly.

Enjoy.

Rose

Rose's 3 month photo shoot.

Today Rose turned three months old. To celebrate, we decided to go to another out-of-state wedding this weekend. This one was in the Chicago area, so we just drove. Rose was a model traveler (of course). After the wedding, we drove north to spend some time with my (Becky's) family. We did lots of wonderful things, but of course I didn't think about taking any pictures until the drive home. Not really much of a surprise, when you think about it...

Anyway, I give you Rose Elizabeth. The bulky cloth diaper makes her look like she's got a lot of junk in her trunk, but I promise you that she's actually quite small in the patootie. Oh, and there are a couple more pictures on Facebook; these are just the highlights.

Caption contest winner announced!

You may remember in May how I challenged my three blog readers to come up with a caption to a particular picture of Rose. I just realized that I never actually told you about the winner. Perhaps I'm biased, but I loved my husband's lolcats-like caption. I'm not a photo editor (and not very good with lol-speak either), so please excuse the paltry modification. But, I think you get the idea...

What? Michael Jackson passed away!? I hadn't heard.

So, like the rest of the world, I have been listening to a lot of Michael Jackson the past week or so. I've always had a soft spot for his duet with Paul McCartney, "The Girl is Mine". The laid-back beat, the painfully memorable lyrics ("'Cause she said I blow her mind"), the ridiculous voice-over (Michael: Paul, I think I told you, I'm a lover not a fighter. Paul: I've heard it all before, Michael. She told me that I'm her forever lover, you know, don't you remember?). It's all just too perfect.



But then, as I began to think about, I started to feel bad for Paul and Michael. I mean, this girl is two-timing them! And they're both oblivious. Michael's off sending her roses and telling her that he'll love her endlessly, and all the while she's telling Paul that she's her "forever lover". Wake up, boys - she's using you both! And let's look at the two of them. They only have one thing in common: their fame. Can you say "gold digger"? Geesh. They shouldn't be fighting over a girl like her. She probably moved on to Hall & Oates soon after. Typical.

Two Months Old!

Rose celebrated two months of age on Friday. Here are a couple of pictures I snapped of her.

Milestone Alert!

I'm going to try and take a picture of Rose every month on the 10th, celebrating her first 12 months of life (this idea was stolen from my friend Emily). I couldn't decide which ones to post, so you get a variety pack.

In case you're wondering, life with the baby is great. She's a good sleeper, which means mom and dad are well-rested and perky (most of the time). Dad has even been able to sneak in a couple of rounds of golf, and I was able to play for our rec-league softball team a few weeks back. We'll be flying to Houston this weekend for a wedding - have baby will travel. Rose also got to meet a lot of new people last week, including one of her great-great-grandmothers (that's right, she has more than one great-great-grandmother). I posted some more photos to Facebook too, so you might also want to meander over there for some additional oohing and aahing.

The official blog transition.

Now that I'm a parent, I have some bittersweet news: this blog will be inundated with baby-gushing from now on.

I can't help it! She's so sweet and adorable and precious and cute and wonderful and amazing and...well, you get the point. But, I assume you'd rather see for yourself.

I give you Rose Elizabeth:

(It may not seem like it, but I promise she has more blankets than just the one in all of the pictures.)

Lastly, I've been inspired by my friends Graig and Sara to present all of my blog readers (all three of you) with a small challenge. Below is one of the more entertaining pictures of our little goofball. I have a couple of captions in mind for this photograph, but I'd like to hear your suggestions. Please send me an e-mail or write a comment with your best idea for the caption to this photo. I'm not sure what the winner will receive (besides our admiration, of course). May the best caption win.

[I've also posted this challenge on Facebook.]

Guess what? I gave birth!

So yeah, I'm officially a mom. As I sit here writing this post, my husband (Andrew) is sleeping. My daughter (Rose Elizabeth) is sleeping. My dog (Della) is sleeping. My cat (Toonces) is sleeping. My other cat (Elvis) is probably sleeping.

And I'm wide awake.

Wide awake and staring at the baby monitor, hoping to see a flicker of red light announcing that Rose is rousing. I'm with the "never wake a sleeping baby" crowd, but sometimes I really want to. Because how else am I supposed to spoil her and love on her and shower her with kisses?! Maybe if I type R-E-A-L-L-Y L-O-U-D-L-Y she'll accidentally wake up... nope. I guess I should appreciate this quiet time. Too bad there's no one else awake to appreciate it with.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Wedding...

This weekend, my husband and I went to Chicago for a family wedding.

Here are some highlights:
1. My mom and grandpa were in a roll-over accident on the way to Chicago. Amazingly, they both walked away (practically) unscathed. So unscathed, in fact, that they got a loaner from the car dealership and continued on their way as if nothing happened. My mom even went to a dueling piano bar later that night, still wearing the same grass-and-mud-stained pants (stains caused by crawling out of her upside-down car into a ditch).
2. The wedding was supposed to be on a boat that cruised the Chicago harbor for three hours. Unfortunately, due to the 40 mph wind gusts and 6-8 foot swells (not to mention the 32 degree temperature and sleet), we stayed at the dock.
3. What's that you say? "Don't complain, at least you were looking at the beautiful Chicago skyline." Tut-tut, my friend. It was actually "Earth Hour" on Saturday, which means the Chicago skyline was lit up like a Christmas tree with a strand of lights out. It wasn't pitch black; that might have been kind of cool. No instead, it was just a dim, gloomy expanse.
4. Oh, did I mention that I said the prayer before dinner? I didn't want to screw it up, so I decided to write it down. I then read the prayer out loud, slowly and clearly like I learned in speech class. Apparently I didn't learn to read in any class, however, as I prayed for Jim and Tim (instead of Jean, my aunt). Whoops.

But, for me, the highlight of the weekend actually happened in the hotel room before the wedding. Upon finding out it was going to be very, very cold, I decided to purchase some tights to wear with my adorable, spring maternity dress (did I mention that I have 6 weeks until my due date at this point?). Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find any "maternity tights" on the Magnificent Mile. Probably because I was only up for walking a block of this mile-long shopping mecca (see pregnancy sidebar above). But I did find some XXL tights at Nordstrom's, that (according to the all-knowing chart on the back of the package) should have done the trick.

So, after gussying myself (hair, make-up, happy-smelling lotion), it is time to dress. Standard undergarments? Check. Camisole, dress, and jewelry? Check, check, check. Only one thing left: the tights.

[Editor's note: Men, you may not understand the literary weight of that last statement. But, believe me, "the tights" is meant to have been read with ominous music in the background. All women mentally inserted said thematic tune instinctually.]

I bravely sit down on the edge of the bed, resting my right foot onto my left knee. I am able to then pull on the right leg of the tights, all the way up to my calf. I set my right foot down, and then realize I cannot actually reach my left foot. Of course, now that the tights-tango has started, I also cannot simply repeat my previous move with the opposite legs/feet. So, I call in my husband. After some coaching, he is actually able to ease the tights onto my left leg, again up to my calf. He then exits the bedroom area of the suite, thanking God for making him male. I begin the next phase of the tights-tango: the two-inch shimmy. (Ladies, you know this routine: start from the bottom of one leg, and pull the tights as taut as you think they can go. Repeat this step on the other leg, only to discover you gained a meager two inches. Repeat this step over and over again until you are sure your next yank will run your tights. At this point, you're probably halfway there.) Well, what I didn't realize was that my two-inch shimmy-ing abilities have decreased in direct proportion to the increase in my pregnant belly girth. I begin panting. Sweating. Grunting. Sighing. Groaning. I don't notice my volume increasing; I am on a mission that cannot be denied.

Well, my husband did notice my volume increasing. So much so, he thought I must be in labor. Or, if not in labor, about to induce it myself. He runs into the room with a glass of water, tilts me onto the bed (you need to have a mental picture of me tangled in tights to understand why I use the verb 'tilt'), and begins to rip the tights off of my legs. I don't understand the urgency of his movements, but realize that his actions are providing a freedom I had forgotten in the past moments. I could feel my legs again! My breathing was beginning to steady. Wait, why was I sweating? I couldn't even remember, it all happened so fast. I sat up in bed and sipped on the refreshing beverage he had delivered, fanning myself with my spare hand.

Looking back, I still don't remember all of the details of that fateful encounter with the Nordstrom XXL tights. All I know is that my legs were bare for the wedding, and that was fine by me.

Some simple rules for a positive karaoke experience.

I have been blessed with many things in my life, but a nice singing voice is not one of them. I can carry a tune, sure, but that doesn't mean you'd want to hear me sing. For one, my voice is in a frustratingly low range. This means I could never sing along to 'girl songs' as a kid. My mom raised me on musicals, but I'd usually take the guy part in a duet. (You should hear me sing "Close Every Door" from "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I put Donny Osmond to shame.) And, let's not forget that my voice isn't necessarily nice to listen to, either. Sadly, these problems are constantly at war with my love for belting out songs at the top of my lungs. My shower has heard miraculous feats of vocal dexterity. I am comfortable being all-time singer during a session of Rock Band. Microphones excite me (though they also amplify me beyond necessary regions). So naturally, I love karaoke.

Here's the thing about karaoke (and maybe a bit about myself): I'm very judgemental when it comes to karaoke, and I really only like good karaoke. I don't want to sit through a night of bad karaoke. Then again, no one does. However, I think I have discovered the secret to good karaoke: you need to find YOUR KARAOKE SONG. So, being a practical and generous individual, I have decided to share with you my set of 4 simple rules (and a couple additional suggestions) to help you determine your karaoke song.

Rule 1: The song must be in your singing range. Yes, this rules out "Friends in Low Places" for many, many people.
Rule 2: The song must be short. Sorry, I don't want to sit through "American Pie", and you probably don't remember all the words to it anyway.
Rule 3: The song must be up-tempo. I know you can sing Patsy Cline's "Crazy", but doing so will only make me crazy.
Rule 4: The song cannot be "Love Shack". Remember, we're looking for YOUR karaoke song. "Love Shack" is the collective song that represents karaoke, but it should never be an individual's song. Trust me, someone else will sing it, and then I give you permission to sing along.

So, those are the must-follow rules. Easy, right? Now, if you want to take my advanced karaoke-and-you course, here are some additional guidelines to help you on your way:

Guideline 1: Aim for a song that most people know. I'm sure you'll do a wonderful job with "Elephant Stone" (The Stone Roses), but no one will sing along with you. And for a good karaoke experience, you want audience participation.
Guideline 2: Look for a song with opportunities for adding flair. That flair might be a country twang in your voice or a sweet dance move you perfected in your bedroom (thanks, D'Qwon). But, that flair will take you to the next level.
Guideline 3: Be ready with an encore. Once people hear your karaoke perfection, they'll want to hear you again. Don't overdo it, though; two songs is plenty for one night. You want to leave them begging for more, not begging for the door.

So, that's all there is to it. I'm sure you're curious to know my karaoke song, but I don't give in so easily. My husband's song is ever better than mine, but then again he is an actual singer... If you want to hear our personal karaoke anthems, you'll have to invite us out. You will not be disappointed.

Some notable nuggets

Well, I guess my post-pace is about once a month. You've got to ease into these things, ya know?

I've found (and I'm chalking this up to being an amateur blogger, though I recognize that may be a total cop-out) that I often talk myself out of posting because I don't think a story is blog-worthy. I've also vowed not to turn this into a blog solely about my pregnancy, but that costs me a post or two as well. Thankfully, while thinking back on all of the things that have happened since I last posted, I realized that I had a few honorable mentions to hand out. So here's a list of them, with some snarky commentary peppered in (naturally).

1. We celebrated Christmas! Keeping up with our "pack-in-way-too-many-activities-in-a-five-day-period" tradition, we drove to every Christmas celebration associated with our family (I think the total is somewhere around eight). Besides the joy of spending time with family and close friends (I'm not even being sarcastic, it really was nice), I also received some wonderful presents: tickets to the Dancing With the Stars tour, a "softie" (this delicious invention is a blanket that converts to a robe), a Snoogle (think body pillow slash enormous noodle), and a vacuum (mom, what are you trying to tell me?).

2. We stayed up until midnight to ring in the new year! This year Andrew's family got together on the 31st for my two favorite things: good food and fun times. For me, the highlight of this day was a family-wide vote to name our baby. Nominees included Albertina, Feather, and Dewdrop-on-a-winter's-morn, though the top vote-getters were Sophie, Becky Jr., Elizabeth, and Rose. We'll have to see if any of those crop up again come May.

3. Andrew installed a new pedestal sink in our one and only bathroom. Unbelievably, the project was done on time and under budget. That never happens! We both love our more spacious and really-clean-for-the-first-time-in-ages bathroom, and I really love my husband for embarking on (and finishing) this project.

4. I started "the registry". For those of you who haven't figured this out yet, a baby registry is just one of many ways to demonstrate to new parents how much they really don't know about having a baby. [Still with me? That sentence was a bit wordy.] The demonstration was a success; I feel quite clueless at the moment. And thanks to online product reviews, I'm also considering things I never would have thought twice about, like "how strong do I want the Velcro to be on the bibs?"

5. Operation Declutter (Andrew's more manly term for nesting) has begun. We have been purging clutter from our house at an alarming rate. Is anyone out there interested in the book "Prego! An Invitation to Italian"? Speak quickly (ahem, presto), because it's the next to go.