Intelligence

Or should I say a lack thereof?

I'll admit it, I've never really had much common sense. It's true. Ask Shawn. I did, however, excel academically. I graduated in the top of my (small) high school class, got a good ACT score and even ended college a summa! I had what they call the "book smarts." I say had because said smarts have since packed up and gone away. Far, far away. Probably to shack up with my common sense. 

I now officially have evidence to prove this. This evidence is three-fold.

1. Recently we took our 2003 Mazda Tribute in to have the oil changed and have the electrical issues checked out. Funky things were happening with the parking lights when you hit the breaks, the radio display was spazzing and none of the windows worked. Well, none of them worked except the driver's window. After they had a chance to evaluate the vehicle, they called to tell us the only thing they could find issue with was the battery. Oh, that and I had the parental lock on the windows.

Yes. The reason the rest of the windows weren't working was because somehow I pushed something that disabled them all except the driver's window. In my defense, we drove two, 1994 cars up until recently, and in those classic models no such "safety" feature exists. So how could I possibly have known I had engaged something if I didn't know it existed in the first place? Point – Kali.

2. I realized after a phone conversation with Maci's doctor a couple months back that I had been unnecessarily aging my daughter. Our ideas on Maci's age were conflicting and although we let it drop at the time, because it was not the reason for the phone call, I picked up the math problem on my drive home that night. I literally calculated out loud: "Okay. Maci is 42 weeks old (don't worry, I counted backwards from July), there are four weeks in a month so she is 10 and half months old. However, 52 weeks in a year minus her 42 weeks leaves 10 weeks until she turns one. But 10 weeks is two and half months. 10 and half plus two and a half equals 13 months. Wait a sec. 52 divided by four is 13 but there are only 12 months in a year so… shit. You mean to tell me there are not exactly four weeks in every month? What the hell! Where was I the day they taught elementary kids how to read a calendar?"

Ironically people have been disagreeing with me on Maci's age for months: Shawn, daycare, coworkers, family members, doctors… but I was Mom, so in my mind, I was right. In reality, I was wrong. The best part is (oh yeah, it gets better), I had been documenting her entire life with this math, with an inaccurate age. Photos, videos, emails, blog posts… all wrong. On this one, my defense is that it's completely confusing how they figure gestation when you're pregnant so there was no hope for me once Maci was born because her age continued in weeks and then people wanted to know how that figured to months and that's entirely too much math for a new mom. From now on, I'm going to say she was born July 16th and you're on your own with figuring the rest. Point – math.

3. Just last night I was emptying the contents of Maci's cloth diapers into the toilet and I tried to open the lid like a trash can. You know… I pushed on it and waited for it to spring open. It didn't. Point – modern science. Although, technically, I think it would constitute more as modern science if the toilet lid actually did open just by pushing on it. Although some probably do. Just not ours. We're ghetto.

Did you get a good laugh? I sure as hell did. I've found that you have absolutely no business laughing at other people until you've had a good laugh at yourself first. That being said, it's a little lonely here in Loserville and it's quite painful and unnerving being this flighty. Help me out here. Got anything you'd like to admit? Embarrassing, funny, mathematical or otherwise? Come on… don't make this cheese stand alone.

Therapy

It's pretty well known that I have a wee case of OCD. I don't want to get into it (again) but let's just say that although I joke about it, it has reared it's ugly, debilitating head in the past; so much so that I ended up seeing a therapist, starting yoga and taking Celexa. Currently, I'm still practicing yoga, I've recently come off the Celexa and now I have a new, in-home therapist: Maci Mae. A mobile Mae Mo actually. She is crawling. I call it crab crawling because that's what her unconventional (and surprisingly efficient) method looks like. Suffice it to say, she's on the move and she's into EVERYTHING. Specifically: cords, vent covers, drawers, curtains, lamps, hinges and glass doors. We've started the baby proofing process but she's a daily dose of reality that despite our best efforts, there are just some things that can't be proofed. She's showing me that I don't always have (or need) control, accidents will happen, more things are drool-resistant than we first thought and sometimes it's just more fun to make a mess.

Also, things like my purse, can keep her occupied for upwards of 15 minutes. 

Paper products AND my purse? Upwards of 30 minutes. 

Less appealing items? Such as her toys ironically? 10 minutes tops. 

Five for a fake phone call…

…and five for practicing poise.

One issue we still have not resolved is what to do about the fireplace. Inevitably, it will just have to be about teaching her the dangers of the beast or waiting for her to accidentally experience them on her own. Or we'll just have her in bibs 24/7.

Aside from literal baby proofing, I'm also learning to let go of other things. For example, while I peek in her crib every single night before I go to bed (and yes, I still put my hand on her back to check and see if she's breathing), one thing I've stopped doing is "fixing" Maci's chosen sleeping position. Although I can't imagine this example actually being comfortable, I like to think she's practicing her inner yoga and therefore I must honor her space. Namaste.

I've also learned that try as I might, her hair will do what it wants to do. Let's face it…

…she is the product of her parents.

This is just a sampling of some of my recent sessions. Ultimately, Maci is at a fun age. She is developing quite the little personality and we're seeing the shift in our responsibilities. Before we just had to keep her alive. Now we have to actually teach her things. And I am not a teacher, Shawn is. In all actuality (and seriousness), I'm learning more from her then she'll ever learn from me.

Like how to drink from a big girl cup…

…and how to stop, smile and enjoy the sunshine.

Anniversary

Before the arrival of Maci Mae and the adoption of Sir Leo, before homeownership and a baby boy basset Norman, before trips to Europe, Mexico, New York, Vegas, California, countless other states and even just up north, heck, even before Minnesota, there was a couple of high school kids from Allison, Iowa…

…and those kids got married. Seven years ago today. That's right. Seven.

I always joke that I got stuck with Shawn because he just kept following me around. He followed me through high school, he followed me to college, he followed me to Minnesota. The truth is though, I had to chase him down to get him. And in hindsight, I would never have gone anywhere or gotten through anything if he wouldn't have been right there behind me. I'm quite certain this will be the case for everything that is to come. Love lies in our imperfections, our arguments, our agreements but ultimately, his ability to make me laugh. Still. Happy Anniversary Team DeBoer!

P.S. Maci Mae Mo is JUST like him. God help us all.

Chicago

After Maci's bout with RSV and bronchialitis, an Urgent Care and ER visit, (almost) a hospital stay, countless doctor visits, after days and days and days of a fever that wouldn't break, after not one but two ear infections, a skin virus and three different antibiotics, we finally got to go on the surprise trip to Chicago Shawn planned for me for my big 3-0 birthday. It was also the first time we were leaving Maci Mae overnight so that's not to say it wasn't anxiety/stress free. At least not for me and my Medela. In the end, Team DeBoer survived the separation and the trip was well worth the wait!

We stayed with the amazing Ragers who are single-handedly the world's greatest hosts! So aside from hanging out with some cool people (and pets), we ate, we drank and we slept. Oh and we did a little sightseeing…

We saw Sue. I was appalled to learn that the "Sue" we saw at the Natural History Museum in New York was a fake, a phony, an impostor. Therefore on our trip to The Field Museum to see a fascinating mummy exhibit, I made sure to capture The Real Slim Shady Sue.

After some painful calculation, I discovered I hadn't been to Chicago in almost seven years! My last trip was for a very infamous bachelorette party a month before my wedding. We did not do a whole lot of sightseeing on that trip. Unless you count the inside of bars, restaurants and a drag queen show? Anyway, I had not yet been to Millennium Park since it opened in July of 2004. It was my one request, my must-see. Thus the obligatory photo below.

We did it. We saw the Bean. Which is actually called the Cloud Gate by the way.

And not to be missed, we also saw the Crown Fountain.

After visiting Millennium Park, we strolled down Michigan Avenue. Along Wabash, we passed the Trump International Hotel and Tower. Yet another landmark that had been erected since my last visit. I do have a photo of it in it's entirety but I prefer the one below with the fancy street lamps. Love me some fancy street lamps.

When we neared the end of the avenue, we made a pit stop at the John Hancock building, took the elevator to the 95th floor and had drinks at the Signature Room. The $13 glass of wine I had might have tasted just as good on the ground floor, but it wouldn't have come with quite the view. I didn't get a photo of said view because the best angle is actually in the women's restroom and I was too preoccupied to mess with the likes of having someone take my photo. Alone. In front of a giant window. In the women's restroom. So instead, I included a photo of a view I had that was equally as stunning.

Did I mention we saw Marilyn? On our Magnificent Mile marathon mind you. As iconic as Marilyn is, her statue is not and it was actually just announced it's being removed.

One landmark that is not going anywhere? Wrigley. We bought some tickets from a very friendly dude who happened to go to college in Minnesota (back in the day). We had fantastic seats in a historic environment that left me, personally, feeling… underwhelmed. I know, I know, it's Wrigley. But to me it had the essence of a minor league field and the etiquette of a high school diamond. Let me add, however, that I would not have enjoyed our trip to Chicago had we skipped the game. I was glad I went and can say I've been there. I've been to Wrigley. I had a blast, I freezed off my ass and if nothing more it made me very appreciative, happy and excited to get back to a game at Target Field.

Since I had no stake in the outcome and the Cubs were losing, I spent a good chunk of time playing with my camera. AFTER a hot dog, some nachos marinated in cheese and a Dos Equis of course.

One other note-worthy activity we took the time to partake in was improv comedy at iO Chicago Theater. Now I know I had (quite) a few beverages before and during, but I don't think that had anything to do with why I was laughing so hard. Especially because at one point they asked for a volunteer and Miss Aubrey bravely took the stage to tell them about her day. The skit that followed was the funniest thing. Ever. Giraffes and mummies and baby Charlie and Wendys!

After the Mexican food, the Argentinian food, the ballpark food, the PIZZA, the cinnamon rolls, the beer, the world's best apple pie drink and Aubrey's desserts, my body was on serious detox upon our arrival home. Or was it withdrawal?