Though She Be But Little...

My daughter has gotten a healthy dose of stubborn from each of her parents, she cleverly "doesn't hear" me when I ask her to do things she doesn't want to, and she refuses to take naps when there is anything even slightly interesting going on that she might miss.

But as aggravating as our little curly-headed monster can be, I find myself filled with pride even at her most infuriating moments.

Probably chucked the spoons seconds later to go
both hands in on the custard and blueberries

She tries pretty much anything if she sees us eating it.
She happily eats moderately spicy things (hot Italian sausage, salsa), loves rabbit and lamb, and eats sauteed spinach (though that's currently one of the few greens that is easy to get in her-it's a texture thing). "MmmUmm" she says as she awkwardly spoons food into her mouth. Then, when that's not quick enough or accurate enough, she abandons the spoon and uses her hands.  

Making silly faces during dinner

She loves to be silly.
Daddy taught her how to throw snowballs at mommy's butt, so now that's the first thing she does in snow, giggling uncontrollably when she squishes it on my rear. She loves to make us laugh, repeating anything that gets a laugh out of us over and over. She makes funny faces and dances and sings. Her laugh is possibly the best sound on earth. She's recently started giggling to herself over things, which is so entertaining even if I can't tell what in the world she thinks is so funny.

She's loving.
Hugs and kisses, pats and squeezes, this girl loves to snuggle. Her enjoyment of snuggle time is nearly always at war with her urge to run wild, but she is almost always willing, even in the middle of the most raucous game, to throw a quick kiss your way if you beg. Then you are treated to an adorable damp pucker that delivers a squishy kiss. 

Feeding her Lambie a bottle

She's emphathetic.
Whether she's concerned each and every time she hears a baby crying, or she's worried to tears every time Elmo loses his blanket in Elmo in Grouchland, my daughter wants to make it better. Her cousin, Owen, gave her a small polar bear for her first Christmas. It's not her favorite toy, like it is his, but she definitely recognizes it as one of her toys. When we were all together for Thanksgiving, she found Owen's PB in his bed and took it thinking it was hers. When we explained why he was looking so concerned, that it was his version of her Lambie, she immediately made sure to give it back and brought it to him throughout the visit.

All the kids listening quietly to Santa
read a story? Nope, I'm definitely out.

She's headstrong.
She says no even when I'm pretty sure she actually means yes. She does what she wants and pays me no attention at all. It's clear she hears me, but you can see those wheels turning as she decides if my wishes align with hers. The answer is usually no. More than any other characteristic, I think this one delights my own mom the most. It seems I may be raising a mini-me. And most days I would say she's coming out ahead. As much as I might admire their control, I'm not one of those calm, talk-it-out-with-the-child-until-they-make-the-right-decision types; I'm a yeller. My tone is decidedly loud. I've made my nephew cry just by saying, "Oh no, don't eat that!" in what I considered to be a normal level of exclamation (seriously, it wasn't loud!) Eleanor remains unfazed through all my varying tones and decibels. Obviously there are problems with this. How am I going to get her attention and make her stop immediately when she's doing something dangerous? I'm not sure a deadly whisper is going to cut it. 

This railing is only about 10 ft off the ground

Watching the ants march up the tree trunk

She's adventurous.
She walks up to anyone and says hi to perfect strangers, loving the attention they give. While visiting a friend on the heart ward at the hospital, she would dart into the other rooms (we managed to catch her most of the time), trying to visit the other patients (missed her once, and we ended up visiting an elderly gentleman while he was eating his dinner. I said something awkward about hoping he would recover quickly and apologized, me somewhat mortified after we ran into a nurse on our way out-you always feel like people see uncontrollable children as a parental failing. Found out later from the friend we visited that the elderly man had loved it. Thank goodness.)

Sharing a book with Longfellow Bear

She loves books.
It is so amazing to have her interact with her books now. Not only is she (finally) relatively gentle with her lift the flap books, but she participates in the stories I read to her. She repeats lines from Pete the Cat: I Love My White Shoes (a family favorite), and she has a whole routine throughout Where the Wild Things Are. The Kissing Hand is in our rotation this week. Eleanor has me kiss her hand and she kisses mine, just like the mommy and baby raccoons do in the book. Makes my heart melt every time.

Giggling riotously in her toy basket

She sings at the top of her lungs.
It's true that this occurs most often when she should be napping peacefully in her crib, but sometimes I'm treated to her lyrics in the car on the way to or home from daycare. So far the tunes and words are pretty unidentifiable, but I love to hear her belting them out. Her current favorite is the Itsy Bitsy Spider, which she would happily listen to on repeat for our entire 20 minute car ride to daycare. The best I could do in negotiation was that we would listen to it every other song. She also meets her daddy at the door when he arrives home from work, demanding that he share his "nunes" with her. He always happily crouches down and hands her one of his earbuds so she can hear his tunes.

The McArdle Family Chili Cookoff

We were thrilled to have one of Nathan's sisters, Jenny, and her husband, Brandon, visit us the weekend before Thanksgiving. We love any chance to have Eleanor spend time with her relatives. She's growing so fast, we want everyone who loves her to get to spend time with her at each stage, (especially those difficult stages.-Take all the time with her you want. I'll just be over here far away).

This visit was a particularly fun one because we tested out a game (Rapid Recall) during her nap and had a McArdle/Brooks chili cook-off.

The final four looked surprisingly different.

Photos by Jenny McArdle

Shown here in medaling order:

Nathan's Southwest Cowboy Chili courtesy of my birthday gift from Jenny, the Nom Nom Paleo Cookbook (top left)

Jenny's Pumpkin and Chicken Chili (no idea where she got the recipe from-I think this one is it, but she substituted some ingredients) (top right)

Brandon's modified Alton Brown Pressure Cooker Chili recipe (bottom left)

And my exotic Kangaroo Meat Chili [Original recipe from the Edgewater Cookbook (our neighborhood fundraiser cookbook) but with ground kangaroo meat instead of beef]. This is a somewhat similar recipe. (bottom right)

In order to pick the winner, everyone ranked all four dishes in order of their favorites and the ultimate winner was the one with the most points. Even though he didn't even rank his own first, Nathan's was a hands down winner. The broth was so velvety delicious that even when we ran out of beef by dinner, I still poured myself a bowl of broth.

I gave myself a last place vote because I was completely turned off by the kangaroo meat. Raw, ground kangaroo has a very fishy smell, which, though it was covered by the chili ingredients and didn't bother anyone else in the group, did me in. I just could not get behind it. I will say it completely mellowed by the next day.

O Frabjous Day

Motherhood Notes:

I just sincerely prayed to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things, for his help in returning the bacon puzzle piece that has been missing from the playroom for the last week...This was a last resort after fruitlessly looking on eBay to purchase a "Melissa and Doug bacon puzzle piece." Spoiler: no matches.

Update: DUDES, it totally worked. It better than worked! Day of the prayer not only did the bacon puzzle piece show up in Eleanor's room (which was the only room in the house I would have bet money on for it NOT to be in), but something I had long declared gone forever appeared after almost 2 months! I hadn't even asked for that one because I had so thoroughly given up on it!!! I told Nathan that I believe. I BELIEVE. I am converting to Catholicism. Or at least naming my next child Saint Anthony. Sorry kid, Mommy owed him one.

I was entirely too optimistic when I went to bed at 11 last night...I've been up since 5 AM because Eleanor doesn't understand the time change. We read Little Blue Truck (currently, according to my toddler, every animal moos) and the Babylit Jabberwocky twice. I always read Jabberwocky with a Scottish accent. I discovered this morning that my Scottish accent is much more authentic when I'm half asleep.

I currently have 3 pairs of shoes that need repair in my car trunk that have been riding around with me since last fall...The shoe repair place is less than a mile from my office.

I just discovered dried egg on my silk shirt that is suspiciously in the shape of a toddler face print...I've already had two meetings this morning.

Nathan has a surprise coming when he drops off this week's dry cleaning. I wonder how much they'll charge for the coat part of Eleanor's chicken costume?

Cross Another One Off the Life List

Got a little busy last year and lost a lot of my blogging inspiration. Just realized today that I never posted evidence of one of my Life List accomplishments: To make my children their first Halloween costume.

Though I only have one child currently, I am justified in crossing this one off the Life List because I'm pretty sure any subsequent children will wear the same costume for their first Halloween because it took forever to make and because it's pretty original. I made it all myself without a pattern. Even her little sweatpants were made using a second hoodie as they did not have any baby sweats in the right color.

Our first family Halloween costume theme: Chicago Hot Dog

Nathan went as our favorite hot dog restaurant worker (Wolfy's), while I went as your typical Chicagoan Hot Dog Eater, and Eleanor was a Grade A, one of a kind, 100% all Vienna Beef Chicago Hot Dog with all the fixings (poppy seed bun, yellow mustard, onions, pickle relish, sport peppers, and a tomato wedge). I even sprinkled her with celery salt for total authenticity.

My Husband Does Not Appear to Understand Texting

There are just some things that warrant a phone call...

I would begin by suggesting that if one's text includes the word "urgent" in any context, a phone call might be the better choice. Though actually pretty much any of these words should suggest a call rather than a text. Seriously; "urgent" "inflamed" "lung lining" all seem pretty call worthy to me.

A Goodbye Gift

It's hard to let Sarah go back to school. Having a nanny was a short-lived luxury. (She bought me presents just because-better than a husband!) It's probably good that we're putting Eleanor in daycare prior to any possibly shy-around-strangers stage as it will make the transition easier on her and definitely easier on me, but it doesn't make me any less sad to say goodbye to Sarah. As a thank you/we love you gift, I made Sarah a locket with Eleanor's picture.

I've had these lockets in my stash but have always been stumped about how to make them feel less unfinished. I'm not sure what they were manufactured to have in those ovals, but a jewel or fitted insert would be hard to track down in the right size if I even wanted to go that route.
However, the other day I was struck by the thought of faux enameling it with a bit of nail polish. A couple of drops and a careful spread to make sure it reaches all the sides and then all I had to do was wait until it dried thoroughly. The best part is that it's pretty easy to wipe it down and start over if I make a mistake. I love how it turned out!

New Fruits

We took Sarah up to Devon Avenue the other night for some Indian food. After dinner, we walked around so she could get a feel for Chicago's version of India (not all that far off, really), and stopped at a few of the grocery stores up there that we like. I found SIX new fruits that I haven't tried yet, so we had ourselves a strange fruit tasting last night.

From the top middle, winter melon, a Forelle pear out of South Africa, guava, jack fruit, dosakai, and a burro banana.

The dosakai tasted like a tangy cucumber (almost pickle-like), the winter melon was the blandest melon I've ever had, and the jack fruit was everyone's favorite and truly almost the weirdest fruit I've had yet. Its deep yellow fruit had the consistency of meat, but its flavor was somewhat like a mango. The guava was lightly fruity, but the hard seeds were difficult to get used to, the pear was very nice with a good flavor and firmness, and the banana was terrible! I decided to pan fry it so it really ended up just tasting like french fries. Looking it up later, I should have let it ripen because it's supposed to be a very lemony banana flavor. I think I'm going to have retry this one with a ripe one.

Also, as I typed this, I had a tasty plumcot that I just picked up from Trader Joe's for breakfast.

Finding a Balance

My soon-to-be brother-in-law shared this blog post on Facebook the other day, and as I am newly back to work post maternity leave, I found this section particularly meaningful.

And in that moment it suddenly dawned on me what was taking me down. We (myself included) admire the obsessively dedicated. At work we hail the person for whom science and teaching is above all else, who forgets to eat and drink while working feverishly on getting the right answer, who is always there to have dinner and discussion with eager undergrads. At home we admire the parent who sacrificed everything for the sake of a better life for their children, even at great personal expense. The best scientists. The best parents. Anything less is not giving it your best.

And then I had an even more depressing epiphany. That in such a world I was destined to suck at both.

Needless to say it took a lot of time, and a lot of tears, for me to dig myself out of that hole. And when I finally did, it came in the form of another epiphany. That what I can do, is try to be the best whole person that I can be. And that is *not* a compromise. That *is* me giving it my very best. I’m pretty sure that the best scientists by the above definition are not in the running for most dedicated parent or most supportive spouse, and vice versa. And I’m not interested in either of those one-sided lives. I am obsessively dedicated to being the best whole person I can be. It is possible that my best whole is not good enough for Harvard, or for my marriage; I have to accept that both may choose to find someone else who is a better fit. But even if I don’t rank amongst the best junior faculty list, or the best spouses list, I am sure there is a place in the world where I can bring value.

Because frankly, my best whole person is pretty damn good.

I've been struggling with that first epiphany too. In trying to be everything to everyone, I am going to suck so much at overachieving at it all. Thank goodness there's someone out there like Radhika Nagpal speaking up. I know I'm still going to shed a lot of tears on this in the coming months and even years, but at least I know I'm not alone in the struggle. I just need to be the best whole person I can be and know that it's enough.
 

Hello/Goodbye Neighbor

We are close with a number of neighbors who now love Eleanor nearly as much as we do. The bookshelf in her room is decorated with things given to her from various neighbors. She has an antique stork figurine from one, a Japanese doll from another, and rainbow beads from her "uncles." She's so lucky to have them all in her life.

Recently our 94-year-old neighbor, Kathleen, moved to Vegas to live with her daughter. She told Eleanor how sad she was that she wouldn't get to see her grow. It broke my heart a little. Her family is selling her building, so Nathan, Sarah (our summer nanny), and I have been cleaning and cleaning and cleaning to take care of all the things her kids left (such as a refrigerator FULL of perishable food)!? Nathan's even pulling up the carpeting that's been there since the '60's at least.

Maybe a third of the jars she had stored in her cabinets.
This is a full size trash can.

Emptying the huge pantry, we've found some ancient canned goods, a nearly antique box of Club crackers (1986), and lots of really fun items that I will post about later. Kathleen was in the Japanese internment camps here during WWII, so she is very frugal and careful with her things as a result. She is the ultimate recycler, keeping everything to use again and again from the netting from her onions to toilet paper rolls and EVERY instant coffee glass jar she'd ever bought.

It certainly teaches me two lessons, one about how she was able to live happily with things that were decades old, not feeling the need for lots of material possessions (I'm not sure how long that lesson will stick though-sorry Nathan). And the other about weeding out your belongings periodically so you aren't one day pulling 15 bags of dried mushrooms so old they're nearly dust out of boxes in your pantry.

Things I Would Never Have Dreamed

Before having a baby, there are a number of things that I would have assured you I would never allow to happen. Then I had a baby and realized that all bets are off.

I never would have thought I'd

But she's pretty sure she'll NEVER
do any of these things.

Say that 26 hours of labor was honestly not that bad. Boring, definitely, but not as bad as it sounds. I would even (no joke!) do it again.

Seriously contemplate sending out a picture of my boob to in-laws, family, and friends. (But she looks so adorable when she breastfeeds! I haven't actually done it, but I've been tempted, which is horrifying enough).

Go without ANY makeup in public.

Go out in public with vomit on my shirt (in multiple places).

And, in the same vein...Laugh as someone vomits down my cleavage.

Cheer every time someone burps, poos, or toots. (After many nights of intestinal distress, you too would cheer when your child FINALLY lets them rip.)

Consider an uninterrupted four hours of sleep "a full night's sleep."

Witness yet another reason Nathan gets attention from strangers. He's already had perfect strangers walk up to him on the street and say that he and his daughter are "so cute." Sigh. No one tells me that we're adorable when I'm out with her.

Feel the need to avoid putting mustard on my food. I just can't do it. It looks scarily like what we find in our newborn's diaper after each change.

Guess What I Did in April?

On April 15, at 2:19 PM (after 26 hours of labor--I'm so going to use this in our future arguments, Ellie) Eleanor Sinclair McArdle joined our family!

Needless to say, due to lack of sleep and general fogginess, I will likely not be updating the blog for awhile. Hopefully once she's on a bit of a sleep schedule I might start regaining my brainpower and general clever remarks, but I'm not counting on it (the regaining what brain I've lost AND the sleeping normally soon).

"I Don't Understand Why A Muscle Contraction is so Painful"

or Just One of the Entertaining Things My Husband Said During Birthing Class

Nathan and I had our 2-day parenting class this weekend. Though we did learn some useful things, they could easily have fit in a two or three hour class rather than the 12 hours we spent in a basement at the hospital. It was just short of torture because the weather this weekend was positively gorgeous.

To add salt to the wound, on Saturday, the second our car pulled into the garage, it began to rain. Nathan did some general yard work anyway. I stood on the covered porch and watched most of it.

One of the obnoxious openers to the class was that we had to say one interesting thing about ourselves as an icebreaker. Nathan told the class that he planned to bike up to the hospital for my delivery (jury's still out on that one), and that he was packing his clubs in the back of the car so that in case the delivery was a long one, he could head out the back door of the hospital onto the course for a quick round of golf (straight up no on that one). I pointed out that he was clearly in need of the parenting class.

Needless to say, we were probably the most entertaining couple in the class. (And likely also the most disruptive...) Many of the videos and pictures we were shown of couple interactions during labor and what to say and when to say it were so effusive and over the top touchy-feely that we did some quiet giggling and eye rolling picturing Nathan trying to do that in the midst of my labor.

We were chosen to demonstrate a position on the birthing ball to the class that required me to be sprawled across it with my behind to the sky while he molded my hips for what felt like an eternity. I suppose that may have been payback for the giggling.

I did come away from the class feeling confident that I can make it through most, if not all, of the birth naturally, which is what I had been leaning toward initially...(I cry when the dentist gives me gas, I can only imagine what a semi-paralyzed lower half will do to me emotionally!), and feeling very confident that Nathan will be supportive and keep me laughing in the delivery room (that is, if he makes it on his bike in time).

Spring Showers

My family threw us a baby shower last weekend, and it was marvelous! Not only did I have all of my family around me for a long weekend, but friends came from quite a distance away to help celebrate Eleanor's imminent arrival. We had a book theme, which contributed to us receiving a whole shelf of fun books (with surprisingly no duplicates!), but we also received many other wonderful gifts.

I made a few book illustration garlands, one appetizer, and the shower favors, but other than that my mom and sisters did everything. Nathan and my dad even found time to build some gorgeous bookshelves around the top of the baby's room and the sunroom before the shower.

I am a lucky gal.

Some of the guests busily decorating onesies.

Finished onesies

A few of the decorations.

Some of the gifts we received...

Nathan and Maybe testing out the baby carrier.

The spread of goodies...

The farthest traveling friends
(though my sister-in-law, sisters, and
cousin win for longest distance overall).

He Loves Me

I told Nathan a week ago that I had gotten him a Valentine's Day gift "just in case he wanted a heads up so he could start thinking what to get me." I offered up the idea of getting me a cookie bouquet, but after he researched it, he said "no way was he paying $70 for some awful cookies." Instead, he had decided he was going to make me Valentine cookies, macarons, in fact.

I thought he was crazy to tackle something so daunting as his first ever attempt at making cookies, but he was set on it. I had gotten a cookbook on macarons from my mom for my birthday, so I handed the book over last week. He studied up every night, made his grocery list and did the shopping for them last weekend. He had originally planned to make them on Sunday, but we couldn't find almond flour and powdered egg whites, so they took another day to locate.

Each night Nathan continued to study the recipe and directions, while our kitchen counters have been covered in all of the preparations since Sunday. He tackled the lemon almond cream filling on Tuesday night, accidentally making a double batch (good thing it's tasty on all sorts of things) and using every bowl in the kitchen.

His plan was to make the cookies on Wednesday night, but then he had to work late, so they became the Valentine's evening project. Last night he came home early from work, had his snack, and got down to work.

He mixed and scraped vanilla beans, blended and even added food coloring to make them pink.

Then he had to pipe it out into disks and bake it in the oven at multiple temperatures. Once the cookies cooled, he still had to pipe in the filling. Overall the whole macaron making process was a multi-hour project, but the finished product was delicious!

Nathan was disappointed that some of the cookies ran together in the oven and didn't look perfect, but I loved them all.

The Chair

Recently I tackled painting the flowered armchair we had in the spare bedroom that is now the nursery. The flowers were just too much, but Nathan didn't want to replace it. Since the chair is not worth getting reupholstered (and I couldn't face doing that chair again myself), I read online that you can paint upholstered chairs, so I thought I'd give that a shot.

Before

After

It took a LOT of fabric medium (the stuff you mix with the paint to make it less crunchy) and even more time, but I don't hate how it turned out. It feels a bit like vinyl though not quite that bad. It's not perfect, and I don't know that I'd tackle that again, but I think the chair will work for now. (Plus, if Nathan hates it than I can convince him that we should get a new chair, so I'll win either way).

In it's spot. This nursery is definitely cozy, aka super small.

Here are a couple of pictures of the nursery in progress, but almost done. I still have a few pictures to hang up, and Nathan is going to put shelves up along the top of the room (on the walls with windows) for books and stuffed animals. Once those are done, I'll make sure to share the full view.