meeting Etta

Last weekend I flew to Denver to meet new baby Etta. Her mother, Mollie, has been one of my best friends since we were thirteen or so, when Mollie was one of the only people my age I both liked and admired (do  sound like Mr. Darcy?). A few years later Mollie introduced me to another best friend, Anna, and I wondered if I'd ever need any more friends. These two do it for me.

loitering.  we were friends before people had cell phones.

I've made other friends since then, of course, but there's something about the kind of friendship that begins in adolescence, lives together through college, hikes the grand canyon, and backpacks through Italy. The kind of friendship that has stayed together from Anne of Green Gables to Steel Magnolias to Amelie to Downton Abbey. The kind of friendship that's seen cancer, depression, exes, early morning prayer, international moves, weddings, funerals, and babies. It's got roots, and ease of communication, a shared language born of shared memories. It's gold.

Mollie and Anna both live in Denver now, as do my brother Jimmy, my sister-in-law EA, and my Aunt Julie and her clan. Thanks to my sweet husband for singlehandedly caring for our children all weekend, I got to see them all.

baby Etta

Anna and I playing aunts

our second Christmas

We escaped grey, icy Upland for a few days this month and celebrated Christmas again, this time with our family in Georgia.

We also got to meet new baby Rocco Paul, who was just 12 days old when we arrived.

Before we left, we had an early birthday party for Rosie (she will be three! Next week!). Trick candles had been purchased by accident, but Rosie adored them. We had several minutes of hilarious fun with them.

favorites

One of Jack's colleagues is starting a photography business. She took a few pictures of Owen for us when he was just over two weeks old. Here are a few of my favorites. Thanks for these beautiful shots, Erica!

owen, six weeks

Of course, he's the second born, and we haven't taken as many pictures of him. This is partly because we are so much busier now than we were two years ago. And it is partly because Owen most of the time looks like this:

He's not the happiest baby. Rosie, at seven weeks, was smiling like this:



Owen, at two days short of six weeks, has smiled, but it's rare. He's a handsome lad, though, and cuddly. Here he is in the same chair Rosie's pictures were taken in

Rosie decided to hop in the picture to "teach" Owen how to "say cheese":

baby jack

owen's first day

Introducing Owen Howard Peterson, who entered the world at 9:55 am on April 12, 2011, 21 inches long and weighing 8 lbs 15 oz: our dearly loved son!





I actually went into labor Monday night, just like we prayed. More pics and details after I nap.

fifty pounds

After I gave birth to Rosie, it took more than a year for me to lose the baby weight. But by the time she was 18 months, it was gone. Frankly, I was skinny. Skinnier than I'd been since I lived in Vietnam.



That's me ten months ago. Now, at 41 weeks pregnant, I have officially gained fifty pounds. Here is a picture (taken today) which artfully disguises the pounds that have have gone to my thighs and hips while displaying the extreme roundness of my belly.

I've had contractions every day (or, more often, every night) for the last week. My newest "ideal" time to go into labor is tomorrow night, so please pray that way, and forgive my narcissistic blogging tendencies. Amen.

i hesitate to call this spring break

We didn't go anywhere -- you can't, when your due date looms -- and there is a fifty percent chance of snow tonight. It doesn't feel like spring. (Actually, as Jack said yesterday, spring break here felt like Christmas break in the south.)

But it was a break, and that was nice.

At the beginning of the week we had some sunny and fifty degree days, and I (probably prematurely) planted lettuces and peas and carrots. I can always plant again in a week or two if they die in a frost tonight.

For meatless monday, since Jack had missed them, I reprised last week's spinach pancakes, this time with some delicious Indian rice on the side.

We went to the Indiana Museum of Art for the first time, and we ate cajun food at Yats.



We took a few longs walks, one to the park and one around the indoor track at Taylor, hoping to get Owen moving.

I saw the doctor, and she said, "Oh, by the way, I'll be on vacation with my family from April 1-8." Doesn't it seem that, since my due date is April 4, she might have mentioned that a little earlier? Especially since I chose her and her hospital because they do water births, and the doctors who will cover for her that week are NOT comfortable with water birth? Que sera sera.

I finished sewing a summer skirt for Rosie. I started it last week while Mimi was here, so that I could have hands on help with my first attempt at gathering, and it was from a tutorial that I probably bookmarked a year ago. Maybe I'll give it to Rosie when we come home from the hospital. She'll need some special attention, I'm sure.


And we must have done more than that, but I honestly can't remember. Today we went with some friends to the winter farmer's market in Indy, and then to some shops on Mass Ave and lunch at Bazbeaux. We have needed to be introduced to places like these!



Last night I think I had dreams that I was having contractions. But I wasn't, when I woke up. Jack's mom will be here on Thursday, so we might as well wait until then. Owen's due date shows up in the 10 day weather forecast now. If he waits until April, it will warm up a little for him.

Owen

Last night at dinner, Jack said that he's ready to commit to the name.

We've been holding out because nothing felt as right to us for this boy as Rosemary did for our baby girl, and in fact I told Jack that I really didn't have a preference among our top three names, and he could choose.

Boy names are hard.

We've chosen Owen Howard for our baby.

Of uncertain origin, Owen is most likely Celtic or Welsh, meaning "young warrior". Some positive associations we have with the name are John Owen, a Puritan writer; Owen Meany (title character of a John Irving novel); and, for me at least, Owen Wister (author of "The Virginian" and the father of western fiction). It was the 51st most popular baby boy's name in America last year.

Howard is Jack's mother's maiden name (Rosemary's middle name is Cross, my grandmother's maiden name). Howard is of Old English (or Norse, or German, or French) origin and means "noble watchman," "guardian," or "shepherd".

I finished Owen's quilt a while back, but we've been working on a few other things for his room. Using up fabric scraps, I've made a soft ball and a fleece-backed playmat. ONe of the fabric scraps had a pocket, so I made a few little toys to reside in the pocket.


Using cardstock, I made a mobile inspired by ideas here and here.


But best of all, Jack made one of his record mosaics. Using old records and record sleeves, he created this airplane on an old piece of plywood.

cradle

Here is the beautiful cradle Papa made for us, along with a few shots of how the guest room is becoming the nursery/guest room.






The bed and nightstand were Grandma Criss's, and were in my room when I was growing up. That mattress must be 60 years old. The blue down comforter was what I took to college.

I can't wait until Jack finishes his project - something to hang above the bed - so I can show it to you. It's awesome.

Speaking of awesome, we decided to postpone meatless monday to another day this week (when we'll probably just have a simple veggie quiche with crackers). Valentines Day is for carnivores. Jack made osso buco and a light vegetable pasta. For dessert he made carmelized pears over haagen daaz vanilla bean ice cream, with a 70% dark chocolate sauce. Yum.