<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951</id><updated>2011-07-31T01:10:08.044-07:00</updated><category term='Animal Collective'/><category term='squeak'/><category term='names'/><category term='nesting'/><category term='ultrasound'/><category term='nursery'/><category term='roll'/><category term='body'/><category term='petey'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='birth'/><category term='music'/><category term='poop'/><category term='crawling'/><category term='month 5'/><category term='crib'/><category term='petey baby pool'/><category term='pre-natal'/><category term='new tricks'/><category term='monkey'/><category term='owen'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='doula'/><category term='video'/><category term='Star Wars'/><category term='Obama'/><category term='kicking'/><category term='love'/><category term='work'/><category term='flash cards'/><category term='iwk'/><category term='pregnancy'/><category term='grunt'/><title type='text'>House Full of Pickles</title><subtitle type='html'>Why a house full of pickles, you ask?

When we were officially a couple, soon to be &lt;br&gt;
wed, our close friends started to combine our surnames - one Gillis, one Perkins, and you 
get Gerkins. Over the year we resisted being 
named after tiny pickled cucumbers, but 
eventually, these things stick. 

And now we are three.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>67</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1854734951504247911</id><published>2010-10-13T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T16:26:36.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Owen's most favourite pastime these days (unless it's his trains) is singing. He likes to sing and he likes to be sung too. He is regularly increasing his repertoire! We have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Old Macdonald&lt;/span&gt; (Ee-yiiii-yo, Moo, moo, moo.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Row, Row, Row Your Boat&lt;/span&gt; (woah, woah, woah... boat... melon, melon, melon... deem)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Twinkle, Twinkle&lt;/span&gt; (Kinko, kinko, how-a, uppa, kinko)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Theme song to Cat in the Hat&lt;/span&gt; (Go, go go! 'ventahh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Frere Jacques&lt;/span&gt; (Shocka, shocka, tina, tina, din, dan, dong)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Thank-You song from church this Sunday&lt;/span&gt; (ank-you, ank-you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Baa Baa Black Sheep &lt;/span&gt;(Baa, baa, baa, baa, baa, baa, baa, baa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Tidy Up song from daycare &lt;/span&gt;(Tiiiee-up, diiee-up)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also likes us to sing the Owenized version of "Good Morning" from Singin' in the Rain, and, if walking in the rain, either "Singin' in the Rain" itself or "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will say "Mnahmnahmnah" so that John or I will sing "Doo-doo-da-doo-doo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can also recite large portions of many of his books (in a sort of very minimal paraphrase, of course) and the plot of Wallace and Gromit in "A Close Shave" (Dog! Sheep! Cha-chine! Truck! Bike! Ladder! Cha-chine! Bang Bang! Oh no! Dog! Sheep!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, I have never met anyone half as adorable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1854734951504247911?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1854734951504247911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1854734951504247911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1854734951504247911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1854734951504247911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/10/owens-most-favourite-pastime-these-days.html' title=''/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1149100120898322787</id><published>2010-09-13T08:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T08:38:55.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my beautiful baby.... big boy</title><content type='html'>Owen continues to be a marvel. And obviously one who keeps us hopping. We're so busy being real parents that the blogbaby stays neglected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, let me take a few minutes to tell you about what we're up to these days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen's language skills continue to impress. I couldn’t even begin to tally them up - he learns new ones every day. He’s started to make two word sentances: “Do it” “Get it” “Have it” are favourites. He likes to say thank you and is working on please. He’s starting to identify who is doing things (“Daddy shower”) and show the faintest glimmerings of understanding the past and cause and effect. He can count reliably to two and often to three (and nine often comes next.) He is absolutely fascinated by names and often remembers what people are called after meeting them only briefly. He’ll ask to play with little friends days after we spend time with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is thinking about colours and shapes. He definitely thinks about how things move (around, roll, run, etc.) He’s not that excited about the stroller - “Walk!” he cries, but still gets strapped in for longer walks (because he’s still pretty slow and definitely distractable). He loves to sing and he loves to dance. He loves to invite (order) people to play with him, dragging them over with a chubby fist wrapped around a big person’s finger. He lives to be outside (ouh-shiiiide!) and to play at the playground. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We encountered a robot in a video the other day, and that’s a frequent topic of conversation these days, except he calls them “blobots” which is adorable. He can also tell you about aliens, octopuses, starfish, butterflies, and submarines. No word is too much challenge.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He eats with a spoon and sometimes a fork (and fingers when it’s faster.) He knows what he wants to eat and when. He’s recently learned to say when he’s hungry (“huggy!”) which I think makes him feel pretty powerful, though he still tends to ask for “supper” instead.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He received a bonus teddy bear from his great aunt on Saturday (it magically arrived in the mailbox while we were out) and he is now very attached to it. It had to come down with us to breakfast today, though he did not ask to take it to daycare. If it turns out this tie-died Beanie Buddy becomes his ‘lovie’ we may be in trouble. What’s the resale on those things, anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s starting to transition to the toddler room at daycare, and let me tell you, he’s more than ready.  He’ll be making a switch to a new centre in November - it’s halfway between where I work and where John does and will make pickup and drop-off a little more equitable (also stroller-able and even bus-able).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m about to start a fall class tomorrow, so life with us will be back to the new routine of work and daycare and nights were Mummy doesn’t come home until after bedtime. It will take a few weeks, but we’ll adjust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re starting to experiment with finally cutting out the last few nursings, but the problem with keeping it up until toddlerhood is that they suddenly have opinions about it. Still, I’m ready to have a body that’s mine again - more than two years is a long time to share. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to think about Halloween, and our December trip to Winnipeg for a wedding and some grandparental time, and Christmas presents, for heaven’s sake (I think we’re going to need a bigger house). In that vein I’ve updated the wish list in the sidebar and will probably continue to pop things on there as he shows an interest. (In case you’re on the VERY small list of people who should be getting things for him.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1149100120898322787?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1149100120898322787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1149100120898322787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1149100120898322787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1149100120898322787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/09/oh-my-beautiful-baby-big-boy.html' title='Oh my beautiful baby.... big boy'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8185573869955479954</id><published>2010-07-08T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T09:42:13.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vocabulary</title><content type='html'>Owen is a chatterbox - this is indisputable. &lt;br /&gt;I have been periodically charting his words, as you know, but since the last time I updated, his vocabulary has completely exploded. We are talking some 90 words, plus a bunch of sounds he uses to identify animals, trains, fans, etc. &lt;br /&gt;The words below are all ones he says without prompting. I'm not sure I even have them all! He doesn't pronounce perfectly, and it's entirely possible no one but me understands what they are, but WOW man, Wow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;table frame=box rules=all&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Verbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nurse&lt;br /&gt;poke&lt;br /&gt;cuddle&lt;br /&gt;touch&lt;br /&gt;bite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Adjectives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;better&lt;br /&gt;dirty&lt;br /&gt;wet&lt;br /&gt;dry&lt;br /&gt;more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Prepositions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that&lt;br /&gt;up&lt;br /&gt;down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;milk&lt;br /&gt;yogurt&lt;br /&gt;cracker&lt;br /&gt;bread&lt;br /&gt;banana&lt;br /&gt;apple&lt;br /&gt;strawberry&lt;br /&gt;asparagus&lt;br /&gt;water&lt;br /&gt;snack&lt;br /&gt;noodle&lt;br /&gt;tomato&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Body Parts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nose&lt;br /&gt;eye&lt;br /&gt;mouth&lt;br /&gt;teeth&lt;br /&gt;bum&lt;br /&gt;knee&lt;br /&gt;toes&lt;br /&gt;belly&lt;br /&gt;bellybutton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Vehicles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;car&lt;br /&gt;truck&lt;br /&gt;bus&lt;br /&gt;bike&lt;br /&gt;boat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Animals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cat&lt;br /&gt;dog&lt;br /&gt;mouse&lt;br /&gt;hippo&lt;br /&gt;crocodile&lt;br /&gt;aligator&lt;br /&gt;bird&lt;br /&gt;bug&lt;br /&gt;rooster&lt;br /&gt;animals&lt;br /&gt;duck&lt;br /&gt;bear&lt;br /&gt;whale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Toys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;block&lt;br /&gt;playground&lt;br /&gt;ball&lt;br /&gt;sandbox&lt;br /&gt;bubble&lt;br /&gt;bath&lt;br /&gt;guitar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mess&lt;br /&gt;Mop&lt;br /&gt;done&lt;br /&gt;box&lt;br /&gt;bag&lt;br /&gt;chair&lt;br /&gt;spoon&lt;br /&gt;bowl&lt;br /&gt;plate&lt;br /&gt;door&lt;br /&gt;window&lt;br /&gt;cup&lt;br /&gt;bottle&lt;br /&gt;shoes&lt;br /&gt;sock&lt;br /&gt;top&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Phrases&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye-bye&lt;br /&gt;hi!&lt;br /&gt;let's go&lt;br /&gt;here you go&lt;br /&gt;night-night&lt;br /&gt;all done&lt;br /&gt;ta&lt;br /&gt;thank you&lt;br /&gt;oh-oh&lt;br /&gt;no &lt;br /&gt;yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=top&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;People&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;br /&gt;Dada/Daddy&lt;br /&gt;Baby&lt;br /&gt;Granddad (Danda)&lt;br /&gt;Mamgu (Mummum or sometimes gee)&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa (Danba)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8185573869955479954?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8185573869955479954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8185573869955479954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8185573869955479954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8185573869955479954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/07/vocabulary.html' title='Vocabulary'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4682723193708406984</id><published>2010-06-30T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T06:16:22.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remiss</title><content type='html'>What can I say? Life gets in the way. I guess I'm not cut out for Mommy-Blogging, what with work and school and mommying itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen continues to grow and thrive. Since last I wrote he's had tubes placed in his ears, taken off to see his Granddad, Great Granddad, and a raft of Great Aunts and Great Uncles, not to mention cousins galore, over in the UK. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes to play outside in the sun, riding our 'biiii(ke)', playing in the "bah-boh" (sandbox) and abusing Mummy's plants. He runs and dances and plays air guitar. He'll try any word you throw at him, including submarine and helicopter. He likes to point out trees, steps, doors, grass, dogs, cats, buses, and especially bikes and motorbikes, which are both 'biiiiii!', except that motorbikes are followed up with 'a-ruuummmrrruuumrrrum.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen is generally an easygoing, happy, friendly chatterbox. Though there are days, like last weekend, where four molars on the move plus a rotten headcold make it a lot harder to get through the day. He saves all his angst for when he's home alone with Mummy and Daddy so that's something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally done my course for this summer - the longest six weeks I've lived in a long time! - and so we'll have so much more time for having fun together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave you for now with Owen's recent school picture. If you'd like more photographic Owen from recent months, come visit us at &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/rhia"&gt;Flickr!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4074/4746294961_6065a8547b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 348px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4074/4746294961_6065a8547b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4682723193708406984?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4682723193708406984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4682723193708406984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4682723193708406984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4682723193708406984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/06/remiss.html' title='Remiss'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4074/4746294961_6065a8547b_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1616560418483081904</id><published>2010-04-20T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T05:59:21.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In lieu of a real post - Owen's words at April 20, 2010</title><content type='html'>Hi!&lt;br /&gt;Ball &lt;br /&gt;Mama &lt;br /&gt;Dada&lt;br /&gt;Look  (doo!)&lt;br /&gt;Done / All Done&lt;br /&gt;Down (also means up)&lt;br /&gt;More (mo-mo, with sign)&lt;br /&gt;Nurse (nuh?)&lt;br /&gt;oh-oh&lt;br /&gt;Dat? (what's that?)&lt;br /&gt;Banana (usually nana, but he got the ba in there last night)&lt;br /&gt;ta (thank-you but mostly a sound for giving things to us or asking for them back)&lt;br /&gt;toes (does)&lt;br /&gt;Shoes  (doos)&lt;br /&gt;book&lt;br /&gt;No (no-no?, with head shake. Often said while doing something he shouldn't)&lt;br /&gt;Bottle (ba-ba, ba-ble)&lt;br /&gt;Cup (baba, ba, bup)&lt;br /&gt;door&lt;br /&gt;dog&lt;br /&gt;bowl (basket, bucket, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;box/block (baah)&lt;br /&gt;baby&lt;br /&gt;go (doh)&lt;br /&gt;apple (bap-boo)&lt;br /&gt;woof (uff)&lt;br /&gt;food/eat (nam-nam)&lt;br /&gt;spoon (boo)&lt;br /&gt;stuck (duh!)&lt;br /&gt;touch (duh - reaching)&lt;br /&gt;flower (loh-loh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onomatopoeia:&lt;br /&gt;meow&lt;br /&gt;wuff&lt;br /&gt;elephant sound&lt;br /&gt;tweet tweet&lt;br /&gt;brrrrrmmmmm&lt;br /&gt;wooohhhhh (vaccum cleaner, big truck)&lt;br /&gt;pock-pock-pock (fish sound)&lt;br /&gt;ahm! (give me a bite!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1616560418483081904?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1616560418483081904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1616560418483081904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1616560418483081904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1616560418483081904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/04/in-lieu-of-real-post-owens-words-at.html' title='In lieu of a real post - Owen&apos;s words at April 20, 2010'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1771182253458374458</id><published>2010-04-12T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T06:49:46.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lots of little videos</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="300" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154326695431" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154326695431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="400" height="300" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154332110431" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154332110431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="400" height="300" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154329555431" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154329555431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="400" height="300" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154323785431" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154323785431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="400" height="300" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154322540431" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154322540431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1771182253458374458?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1771182253458374458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1771182253458374458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1771182253458374458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1771182253458374458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/04/lots-of-little-videos.html' title='Lots of little videos'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5255301244408800243</id><published>2010-03-24T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T09:28:24.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Word List</title><content type='html'>A lot of these words are only discernibly different in context. You'd be surprised how quickly you learn to hear the minute differences. These are roughly in the order that we are certain that he is definitely associating a sound with something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;br /&gt;Dada&lt;br /&gt;hi!&lt;br /&gt;dog (doh!)&lt;br /&gt;cat (tattat!)&lt;br /&gt;meow (wa-ow) (he was meowing at the picture of the cat on the bag of cat treats this afternoon)&lt;br /&gt;woof (uff)&lt;br /&gt;bottle (baba)&lt;br /&gt;sheep (ba-ba)&lt;br /&gt;oh-oh&lt;br /&gt;what's that? (dat?)&lt;br /&gt;door (doh-oh)&lt;br /&gt;ball (boohhh)&lt;br /&gt;book (bah/buh)&lt;br /&gt;banana (nanana)&lt;br /&gt;toes (dohs!)&lt;br /&gt;ta (thank you - or really more like I am handing this to you please hand it back now)&lt;br /&gt;milk (mum)&lt;br /&gt;baby (ba)&lt;br /&gt;cup (bap/bop)&lt;br /&gt;all done (aa duh, duh, aaa)&lt;br /&gt;go (doh!)&lt;br /&gt;eye (possibly this is still just hi)&lt;br /&gt;down (doh)&lt;br /&gt;more (mo) (very seldom says)&lt;br /&gt;apple? (bub-bub)&lt;br /&gt;yogurt? (oh-oo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other sounds that mean something:&lt;br /&gt;bleaah! (John taught him this when he was eating stuff off the carpet and now he does it to be funny)&lt;br /&gt;Mem (I do not know what this means, but he says it with great conviction.)&lt;br /&gt;bwow&lt;br /&gt;blom/blum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is also big on mimicking sounds / words when we say them, though he won't necessarily remember these for the next time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other big things of late, walking, running, climbing the stairs, trying to climb into the bath, climbing over people on the floor, holding the phone to his ear and saying "hi! hi!", throwing food out of the high chair, hiding remotes, nearly turning ONE oh my goodness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big real post will have to commemorate that - promise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5255301244408800243?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5255301244408800243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5255301244408800243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5255301244408800243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5255301244408800243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/03/word-list.html' title='Word List'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6736314947975432109</id><published>2010-02-16T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T09:45:33.345-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Philosophizing and Updating and Loving</title><content type='html'>So yes, hello...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out we're not fabulous parent-bloggers. Good intentions out the window when you have a sleepless, busy child, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen has, however, become a gem. He's such a happy, funny little boy these days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's walking, as we showed you in our hasty video post. He can't get up if he's in the middle of a room, but give him a wall or furniture or person to pull up on, and he's off to the races, padding his way down the hallway to see who's in the kitchen, carrying the contents of the kitchen (Tupperware, pot lids, tomato paste, whatever's handy) off to his toy box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's talking, maybe, or at least making sounds that sound a lot more like words. Mama, he says, often when he means me. Dada, likewise, for John. "Dog," he says when he's at his Mamgu's and hanging out with Bella the Jack Russel/Chihuahua, "Dog". Most other animals are "baa," especially the sheep kind. He's said cat, once or twice, when he's mislabelled Pumpkin as a baa or a dog. "Nam nam nam" means he's hungry, or enjoying his meal. There's a "baaaaw" sound for balls, and a "buuuhh" sound for books, but mostly everything is ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, so maybe we read too much into it. Was that a "banana" we just heard?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started daycare in January, and has had a mild case of the plague ever since, a cold that turned into an ear infection that turned into a croupy sort of thing that turned into "that damn ear infection still hasn't gone away." We're finishing up our third course of antibiotics. We've retired the inhalers. He seems happy enough, but do his ears still itch? Do we have to make a hard decision about tubes? We'll know on Monday, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are six pointy, sharp little teeth now, and a brand-new stream of drool that might indicate more are on the way. He sleeps five hours in a row, most nights, sometimes six, though not usually the same ones we like to sleep. He's getting better and we can see the light at the end of that tunnel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes to make jokes, initiate peek-a-boo, feed us bites of whatever he's eating. He's in all the drawers and cupboards, testing, throwing, rearranging. Toys that make noise are the very best, and he shakes his head along with every rattle. He's starting to dance along with music, a little hand wavy bouncing thing. He understands more words than he lets on, I think, especially the kind that are "no." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's ten and a half months old, already. In six weeks he'll have been around for a whole year. It's hard to imagine life before he was, but all the same, being back at work makes it hard to reconcile now with before. There's no more stopping on Barrington Street for a pint on the way home. No more spur of the moment decisions to see a movie on a Friday evening. Any evenings out take special orchestration. Is it worth it? Yes, oh, yes. Is it still weird? Again, yes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing of all, though, is the end of the working day, this little face full of love and smiles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2764/4314184245_8dff81caeb.jpg"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6736314947975432109?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6736314947975432109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6736314947975432109' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6736314947975432109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6736314947975432109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/02/philosophizing-and-updating-and-loving.html' title='Philosophizing and Updating and Loving'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2764/4314184245_8dff81caeb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8320641487771330663</id><published>2010-01-22T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T14:48:22.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;Owen's becoming a little more confident and adventurous when it comes to walking. Check this out (or see here: &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: normal; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://bit.ly/5HJVAw" class="tweet-url web" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-decoration: underline; color: rgb(85, 93, 216); "&gt;http://bit.ly/5HJVAw&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=3437d39c18&amp;amp;photo_id=4296488786"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=3437d39c18&amp;amp;photo_id=4296488786" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8320641487771330663?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8320641487771330663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8320641487771330663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8320641487771330663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8320641487771330663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/01/owens-becoming-little-more-confident.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-2783039716180888632</id><published>2010-01-20T15:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T15:17:01.087-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An eventful week.</title><content type='html'>So last Wednesday I was home with Owen, as is my wont, now I'm back at work. My dentist is in the same building I work in, so one of my colleagues watched him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, I was involved in my first-ever Ministerial briefing at work - exciting, and good for the career, but nerve-wracking, not least because it started late and ran later. Luckily it was not a daycare day, so Owen just enjoyed more time with my Mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday overnight he developed a fever... Seemed OK in the morning so we left him with Mum again, where he grew steadily more miserable through the day. When I got home from work he was pretty inconsolable, so off to the doctor's office for us. Ear infection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday... we managed to exchange our tickets to see the Metropolitan Opera's Carmen at the movies... and stayed home with a sick babe. Sunday, similar, but without the exchange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday and Tuesday Owen was back to himself. He even napped at daycare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overnight he slept four hours, then six, a new world record. And he even put himself back to sleep when it turned out I hadn't quite managed it after his midnight feed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today he had a super-long morning nap, and then, shortly after I got him up and nursed him, planning to try some real lunch and head out to Mom's group, the house started to smell like smoke. I investigated the kitchen. Stove off, toaster cool. I looked down the basement stairs but it seemed ok. The smoke detector wasn't going off. Checked upstairs, nothing there either. The smell was getting stronger and the kitchen starting to get hazy. Strapped Owen into the highchair and checked out the basement for real. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts going through my head... we'd had some furnace trouble around Christmas - had something else gone wrong? And if something was on fire... we were supposed to have already been gone to Mom's group. Thank heavens we still had the chance to call if we needed help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hazy as hell down there. Up the stairs, grabbed the snowsuit, calling John, dressing baby. The neighbour appears at the fence. Pass her the baby and go searching for the cat while John calls 911. By the time I have the cat out the firefighters have arrived next door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They set an oven mitt on fire while running the self-clean cycle on their oven. Everything is quickly under control. Three friendly and cute firefighters set up a giant fan to blow smoke out of my house, though the basement is a lost cause, having no windows. John arrives. The cat is deposited back upstairs. The firefighters leave. John goes back to work. We go to Mom's group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get home, and the ween naps another two hours. Take his temperature when he's up and he's warm again. Call telehealth. Suggest we take him in tomorrow. Try to give him dinner. Not interested. Take him upstairs to play for a while, then he nurses. Then he chokes on snot and projectile vomits all over me and him and the nursery. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give up. Some day off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, current possible words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dada (definitely a word, but usable for any parent)&lt;br /&gt;Mama (a word, but not a frequent one. sometimes used for mama, sometimes just for things he wants, or food)&lt;br /&gt;Baa Baa (said in response to pictures of sheep)&lt;br /&gt;Tiss (possibly kiss?)&lt;br /&gt;Num, Num (yummy!)&lt;br /&gt;Hi (that is Haaaaaaaaaai, like he's from the deep south. Though he's not saying that much now he's got waving down.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clapping!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-2783039716180888632?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/2783039716180888632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=2783039716180888632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2783039716180888632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2783039716180888632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/01/eventful-week.html' title='An eventful week.'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4684563190241754040</id><published>2010-01-10T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T09:25:11.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We owe you a Christmas post!</title><content type='html'>But look!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=a1b315930c&amp;photo_id=4262911156"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=a1b315930c&amp;photo_id=4262911156" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4684563190241754040?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4684563190241754040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4684563190241754040' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4684563190241754040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4684563190241754040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-owe-you-christmas-post.html' title='We owe you a Christmas post!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8286518760074827700</id><published>2009-12-24T05:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T06:00:53.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A year-end letter</title><content type='html'>We expected 2009 to bring many changes. We were “expecting,” as they say. But the unexpected snuck up and surprised us, as is its nature.  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So at the end of the year, not only are we parents, but I’ve left one career for another.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think I’ve cried more this year than in the last 25 (most recently when Tiny Tim died in The Muppet Christmas Carol), but in the year-end tally, the happy tears outnumber the sad ones.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzNw6-R4LCI/AAAAAAAAAEA/pCPE97y3p9Y/s1600-h/3415250717_798906c29f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzNw6-R4LCI/AAAAAAAAAEA/pCPE97y3p9Y/s320/3415250717_798906c29f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418798935109544994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;2009 was the Year of Owen, or at least the first Year of Owen. Although he was expected and eagerly awaited, I was well aware I really didn’t know what caring for a baby or being a dad were all about. And Owen managed to surprise us right off the bat by coming about two weeks before his due date.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Labour and delivery, again not what had been hoped for, but a miracle nonetheless. I’ve never been more awed by a person than I was by Rhia that rainy April night (and I touched Wayne Gretzky one time).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And there was our beautiful little baby. When we met him, it turned out he was not an Angus (Gus, for short), although we’d been pretty sure that’s who he would be.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Everyone comments on his blue eyes, his round head, his fine hair, which appears either golden blonde or red, depending on the light. It seems at once such a long time ago and only a moment ago he was brand new. And he’s become a new little person every couple weeks for the past nearly-nine months. Throughout he’s been curious and good-natured, friendly to strangers, a flirt. Never a great sleeper, but better these days. And we’re better able to muddle through the days on little sleep ourselves. He loves to laugh and knows how to make us laugh&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He’ll have about three and a half front teeth for Christmas (along with mountains of presents from admirers) and will be walking sooner rather than later. He likes to chatter and sing. He’ll go, “Ohhhh, ohhhhhhh,” when he finds something interesting and “AH AH AH,” (repeating our admonishments) when he’s attempting to play with something he knows isn’t for babies. “Dig dig dig,” is another favourite expression. It’s possible that when he says, “Mamama,” and “Dadada,” he’s referring to Rhia and I, but the jury’s still out.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He wears us down sometimes, with his short attention span and need for constant entertainment, or when he sometimes goes from peaceful rest to demonic screams when you try to set him in the crib. There’s the odd moment we consider selling him to gypsies. But more often than not, when we’ve got him down to sleep, washed the dishes, folded the laundry, taken out the garbage and collapsed on the couch, Rhia and I find ourselves looking at photos of him. We miss him, even when he’s just upstairs.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve found there’s nothing more rewarding than the grin that spreads across Owen’s face when I come home from work. Rhia will return to her job at the beginning of January. She’s looking forward to the work and some adult company through the day, but dreading leaving Owen behind. I’m hoping that smile will make the transition less traumatic.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Being a father—I couldn’t quite say what it’s like. But with it comes a deepened empathy. I’d say I was a fairly sensitive person before, but somehow you feel things a little more deeply. So, following the terrible news of the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Cape&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Breton&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; boy who got lost in the woods and later died was painful. I was consumed with thoughts of how scared this boy must have been. Even fictional things, sentimental or otherwise, get me. Rhia and I laughed at each other when we realized we were both sobbing at the opening scene of Star Trek, in which Capt. Kirk (Sr.) bravely meets his end while his son is born in another part of the galaxy. And then there was Tiny Tim. Such a sweet, big-hearted little frog. It just wasn’t fair.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Owen’s arrival came just two weeks after my career as a newspaperman sputtered to an end. I left The Chronicle Herald in mid-March, but that end came after an excruciating month-and-a-half long purging of the newsroom. A lot of people got laid off, not a shock in the newspaper industry. But until then, The Herald had been the kind of place where people could bank on spending their whole careers, if they wanted to. And I’d been pretty content with that idea myself.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I loved the job. I really loved the job. I was good at it. I worked with good people. They were paying me to do what I enjoyed and that pay was enough to cover the bills. But everything went unimaginably sour in an instant. Those good people—all great journalists—weren’t considered as such by the bean counters. Their ledger indicated they had to sell $2.5 million worth of ads (that’s 6,000 sofas for ad-buyers) to support each newsroom position. Sofa sales were down, so a bunch of journalists had to go. The weeding out was extremely random and unpleasant. While the work continued, the job that I loved had already disappeared. So I took advantage of a buyout offer and quit, before they could shove me out the door.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With Owen’s appearance so soon after, the upshot was that I moved on without batting an eye and got to spend four months at home with my family with full pay from my ex-employers. It was a better deal than the parental leave. I could not have planned it any better if I’d tried.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just as that well was about to run dry and my EI application was making its way through the channels, another opportunity came my way. And now I find myself the media relations advisor for Capital Health. In plain language, I’m the spokesman for an 11,000-person outfit that operates 10 hospitals and a raft of other services. It’s challenging and exciting. My predecessor, still a colleague, did a great job showing me the ropes. I’ve had the good fortune to be able to pick the brains of the two people who were in the role before him as well. Just as I was beginning to feel I knew what I was doing the second wave of H1N1 arrived in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;Nova   Scotia&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and our whole team was going full throttle.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And it’s been a pleasure to get to know the people on that team, folks I knew mainly as voices on the other end of the phone when I was a reporter. When I was stepping into this role, there were lots of jokes flying about joining the Dark Side. But I assure you none of these folks are cape-wearing Sith lords or conniving spin doctors. They’re a compassionate group of folks who like to laugh. The best part of the job switch has been expanding my group of friends to include these new colleagues.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I also get to keep in close touch with former colleagues, both with my professional hat on and over the occasional pint in old hangouts.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;People ask me all the time if I miss being a reporter. I have to say, no. The major factor is that immediately after the job ended I had Owen to focus all of my attention every day. And truth be told, in the days leading up to that official end, I spent much more time moping about it than actually doing my job. I was probably a miserable person to be around. Sorry. It’s the people I would have missed and I still see a lot of them. I had a good six-year run at a big daily paper. I loved the rush of it, but on reflection, I was losing motivation and it was a good time to move on. That part of my life seems a long’ long time ago, in a different world. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’ve been lucky this year to have lots of good visits with and from family and friends. A number of visits with Grandma, Grandpa and Aunt Heather, both here and in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Winnipeg&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, although I know they mind the time between as he continues to grow and change. Uncle Anthony and Aunt Kim and lots of friends in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Calgary&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. Katie and Gord here. The Dunns in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Moncton&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Eden&lt;/st1:city&gt;, Michael and Izzy in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Ottawa&lt;/st1:city&gt;, all kinds of folks in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Cape&lt;/st1:placetype&gt; &lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Breton&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;…Owen’s a pretty seasoned traveler already&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzNyGPNtSBI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KxhfvNLroHQ/s1600-h/skyeglen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzNyGPNtSBI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KxhfvNLroHQ/s320/skyeglen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418800228145645586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Another pleasant surprise in this new role: I have a good stretch of time off over Christmas. I’d be years away from that kind of holiday break in my former role. I’m looking forward to spending a lot of time with my little family in our little house.  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Rhia and I plan to spend New Year’s Eve having dinner at our favourite little neighbourhood restaurant with dear friends (Owen will be home with Mamgu). It will be a quiet, happy end to an eventful year.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I stopped in that same restaurant two blocks from home this morning to pick up a coffee and, unexpectedly, ran into friends currently living in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Australia&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Winnipeg&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s a small world. And a happy one, despite rough times that seem to have no end. I’m heading into 2010 full of hope and a sense of wonder. I see it brimming in Owen’s eyes and feel it in busy hands he’s still figuring out how to use.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;May your Christmas and the New Year also be full of hope, peace, joy and love.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8286518760074827700?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8286518760074827700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8286518760074827700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8286518760074827700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8286518760074827700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/12/year-end-letter.html' title='A year-end letter'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzNw6-R4LCI/AAAAAAAAAEA/pCPE97y3p9Y/s72-c/3415250717_798906c29f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8486524577591466382</id><published>2009-12-22T16:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T17:12:30.691-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new tricks'/><title type='text'>New tricks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzFr99Z-RKI/AAAAAAAAADo/CG6IzJQBWRo/s1600-h/december+2009+024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzFr99Z-RKI/AAAAAAAAADo/CG6IzJQBWRo/s320/december+2009+024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418230538903110818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen is turning into a more interesting little person every day.&lt;div&gt;The other day, when he was scheming ways to get into the dishwasher, I was debating whether he's smarter than a monkey. I couldn't decide. There must be a point in life at which you become smarter than a monkey, but I don't know what the threshold is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are a couple new entries in the Possibly-Smarter-Than-A-Monkey column:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Owen now initiates peek-a-boo himself and gets a big charge out of it. He plays both the version in which he holds a bib up over his eyes so that we "can't see him," and then dramatical&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ly drops it with a look of great glee in his eyes, and the version in which he actually hides behind something and then creeps back into view. He's done it with the bannister on the stairs and the other morning when I was sitting at the table in the kitchen, he hung out behind the chair and then slowly crept into view and tapped me on the knee. Creep back behind chair. Repeat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He really chortles at the big moment of surprise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a while, he's been into the drawers on the buffet (the ones that have linens in them, not the "AH AH AH!" ones). He likes to play Drawer Goes In, Drawer Goes Out and he really loves to pull dishcloths and towels and napkins out and fling them on the floor. Owen also enjoys poking around the cupboard with flour and sugar and noodles in it. Today he pulled out a package of pad thai noodles and put them in the drawer. That was the first time he'd actually put something IN something else. The he took the noodles out of the drawer and looked them over and put them back in the drawer again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's a milestone folks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Always exciting new things in this household.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzFsQmgRirI/AAAAAAAAADw/nXo7mNWryYo/s320/december+2009+058.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418230859173038770" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another first: on Monday, Owen met this strangely-dressed fellow in the shopping centre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, soon to be first Christmas with Owen. He already has a mountain of presents and there have been a couple to open. Favourite gift so far, some shiny foil paper. Until he tore a bit off it and tried to swallow it, that is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It should be an exciting week. I think that man from the mall might come for a visit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merry Christmas everyone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8486524577591466382?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8486524577591466382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8486524577591466382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8486524577591466382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8486524577591466382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-tricks.html' title='New tricks!'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SzFr99Z-RKI/AAAAAAAAADo/CG6IzJQBWRo/s72-c/december+2009+024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-7220719155464370845</id><published>2009-12-14T05:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T05:39:36.677-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah ah ah!!</title><content type='html'>So Owen is not much for responding to "No!" but will at least stop and look if you give him a loud Ah-ah-ah! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we do a lot of "Ah-ah-ah! The laundry room is not for babies! Come back in the kitchen please." Or "Ah-ah-ah! Don't play in that cupboard." Or "Ah-ah-ah! No cords, please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after a few repetitions he'll usually move on to something he is allowed to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the past day or two, the rotter has started to play with things he's NOT supposed to, all the while going "Aaaa aaaaa aaaa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he's interested in something (oh, something pretty like the Christmas tree, or our laptops, or a particular page in a book, or a new library book) he says "Ohhhh! Oh. Ohhhh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, on Friday, he figured out how to climb the stairs. He's a scary scary marvel!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-7220719155464370845?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/7220719155464370845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=7220719155464370845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7220719155464370845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7220719155464370845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/12/ah-ah-ah.html' title='Ah ah ah!!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4014385581788107524</id><published>2009-12-06T17:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T18:33:44.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Videospam Post</title><content type='html'>Strollin'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=a96d5c2593&amp;photo_id=4161411284"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=a96d5c2593&amp;photo_id=4161411284" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing in Calgary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=cbf4d767da&amp;photo_id=4160693965"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=cbf4d767da&amp;photo_id=4160693965" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A-wa-wa-wa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=4ec35221af&amp;photo_id=4160660557"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=4ec35221af&amp;photo_id=4160660557" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crawling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=655695ec6f&amp;photo_id=4161358130"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=655695ec6f&amp;photo_id=4161358130" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, presenting a Christmas present, opened early. (too lazy to rotate video)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=5ed62be57a&amp;photo_id=4164307265"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=5ed62be57a&amp;photo_id=4164307265" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;a href="http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com"&gt;House Full of Pickles&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4014385581788107524?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4014385581788107524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4014385581788107524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4014385581788107524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4014385581788107524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/12/videospam-post.html' title='Videospam Post'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-2179340019652645916</id><published>2009-12-02T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T05:28:28.208-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Baby</title><content type='html'>For all his not sleeping, Owen continues to be adorable.&lt;br /&gt;John gets up with him in the morning at whatever hour between 6 and 7ish he cannot be put back to sleep. They hang out down in the kitchen, one or both of them has breakfast, then John pops O in the crib with some toys while he goes to shower. The babe will play contentedly for a few minutes, but before the water's turned off he's usually calling for someone to go get him. This morning, when I went in, he was standing at the crib rail whining, but I came in the room, and he BEAMED at me and started bouncing. I asked if he wanted to get up and he extended one chubby hand to me happily. Up he came, and planted a big soggy kiss on my chin. &lt;br /&gt;This is what it's about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things he does that are incredible and got missed in the last post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's still a big reader and pulls all his books off the shelf several times a day. If you read to him, he likes to be the one to turn the pages - usually in the right direction, but sometimes he likes to go back to favourite pictures - and has developed a real fondness for touchy-feely and lift-the-flap books. He tends to over-love the flaps if left to his own devices, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other fave objects? Shoes, slippers, paper, cardboard, remote controls, bowls, gross things, the cat bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was determined to crawl off the edge of things like the step to our front foyer and the bed, so we've been working on climbing off backwards, and he's really starting to get the hang of it! We're also working on rooms he's not allowed to go into (well, just one, the laundry room off the kitchen.) So he'll crawl right up to the doorframe and mama will go Ah-ah-ah, and he'll stop and sit back down on his bum and think for a while. He might try two or six times, but eventually he'll come back into the kitchen to do something else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's so interested in walking, he pushes around the kitchen chairs and these faux-leather, foam-stuffed ottomans we have. He can make fairly good distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a maniac from drinking from cups - sometimes his sippys, but he really prefers to drink from a grownup's. We let him make a mess when it's water, but it does make drinking juice, coffee, pop, beer or whatever a bit more complicated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now he is playing mostly under a kitchen chair, repeatedly banging his head in the process. It doesn't seem to bother him, but perhaps I should rescue for the sake of the headache that will ensue!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-2179340019652645916?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/2179340019652645916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=2179340019652645916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2179340019652645916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2179340019652645916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/12/amazing-baby.html' title='Amazing Baby'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8846912499286366889</id><published>2009-11-27T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T14:58:25.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The November that just wouldn't stop!</title><content type='html'>Hello everyone and sorry we've been away so long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen had a blast on Halloween! We trick-or-treated three whole houses! Mom and dad had to perform thorough quality control on the candy, though... Then it was off to dreamland with our little wild thing while the candy got distributed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that Owen and I took a trip out to Calgary for Owen to finally meet his Uncle Anthony and Aunty Kim! Mamgu joined us on the flight, and O was a jewel, but it made for a long day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVF2861xI/AAAAAAAAAd8/UcjPojnLsaM/s1600/All+of+Owen+1577.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVF2861xI/AAAAAAAAAd8/UcjPojnLsaM/s320/All+of+Owen+1577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408916711610701586" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a hit at the Perkins house, though!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGFY24FI/AAAAAAAAAeE/LFuVJlsFMoQ/s1600/All+of+Owen+1583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGFY24FI/AAAAAAAAAeE/LFuVJlsFMoQ/s320/All+of+Owen+1583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408916715485978706" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We visited the giant, Alberta-sized mall in Balzac, had Dim Sum in Chinatown, hung out with lots of monkeys, poked Owen with foam tubes, and all the good stuff one tends to do on family visits. I even got to hang out with some university friends and their offspring - including my friend C's four month old - Owen! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGdA4QaI/AAAAAAAAAeM/f-9SD_Hn6bY/s1600/All+of+Owen+1590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGdA4QaI/AAAAAAAAAeM/f-9SD_Hn6bY/s320/All+of+Owen+1590.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408916721827856802" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took the red-eye home, which worked quite well in terms of him getting some sleep - we were even able to take the car seat on the plane, which worked well, though it was hard to get down the aisle and I probably shouldn't have installed it rear-facing. Lessons learned! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our return, we were lucky enough to have a week-long visit with Owen's honorary aunt Katherine! We wore frog coats (Owen) and drank beer in the afternoon (the grown-ups). We wandered the heck out of the city! We were darned cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBWRkRwIuI/AAAAAAAAAeU/gwvNzUjAIt8/s1600/10959_337782955692_732225692_9776274_1408118_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBWRkRwIuI/AAAAAAAAAeU/gwvNzUjAIt8/s320/10959_337782955692_732225692_9776274_1408118_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408918012267864802" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Developmentally, Owen's sprouted a couple of teeth! True to form, he's opted to do things his own way and get the top ones first. They're nearly all the way out now and they look pretty good, though it's hard to get a picture! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He crawls blazingly fast now, often making trails down the hallway to greet Daddy at the front door when he comes home. Not content with just babyish mobility, though, he pulls himself up to standing as soon as he gets there these days. He's walking along the furniture, and pulling up on every single thing he can get a grip on, from chairs to stairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's still experimenting with solid food, and isn't all that sold on the concept. We got him a shiny new high chair this week, though, so hopefully that will help! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here he is scaling those new hights, and having a conversation with the Queen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ea2fdfd3eb6e5d38" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dea2fdfd3eb6e5d38%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1E63C7EEF2A3400A6EF9762CF8B01558233FF3FA.B7BCA9572CCAAA0CC8724CE305AFC8C680E452B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dea2fdfd3eb6e5d38%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dt2tgXHFFnaV8yTR1ahNMRkiCaWA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dea2fdfd3eb6e5d38%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1E63C7EEF2A3400A6EF9762CF8B01558233FF3FA.B7BCA9572CCAAA0CC8724CE305AFC8C680E452B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dea2fdfd3eb6e5d38%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dt2tgXHFFnaV8yTR1ahNMRkiCaWA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll report back next week when he reaches eight months old and receives a visit from his Winnipeg grandparents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(if you're reading on Facebook, visit &lt;a href="http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.net"&gt;for the video and pix!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8846912499286366889?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8846912499286366889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8846912499286366889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8846912499286366889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8846912499286366889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-that-just-wouldnt-stop.html' title='The November that just wouldn&apos;t stop!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVF2861xI/AAAAAAAAAd8/UcjPojnLsaM/s72-c/All+of+Owen+1577.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8684175113641042668</id><published>2009-11-24T06:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T07:43:40.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiny update!</title><content type='html'>Big things around here! Crawling, standing, proto-walking, teeth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I spent half an hour trying to get Owen down for a nap, only to have him dissolve into tears as soon as I put him in his crib. After this half-hour I am exhausted with the process, so, deeming him safe enough in there, I go off to take a much-needed shower. When I get out, there is silence, so I tiptoe towards his room, daring to believe he's actually cried it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I discover? Little mister standing up, holding on to the side of the crib, patiently waiting for me to return. Woe. Funny though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to upload some videos but I need to edit them down to a manageable size first. Flickr isn't up to date either. The internet is harder with a mobile baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8684175113641042668?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8684175113641042668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8684175113641042668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8684175113641042668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8684175113641042668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/11/tiny-update.html' title='Tiny update!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1836960750766747522</id><published>2009-10-30T15:59:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T16:23:13.320-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crawling'/><title type='text'>Mobility!</title><content type='html'>Owen has been right on the verge of crawling since early September when we were visiting Grandpa, Grandma and Aunt Heather in Winnipeg. He had the arm part but not the legs, or the legs and not the arms, or he'd forget to pick his belly up off the floor.&lt;div&gt;It has frustrated him to no end that he can't just go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By last week, he was managing to scrabble and roll his way around, covering a lot of ground, but without much sense of direction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then on Wednesday night, on the carpet upstairs and in his birthday suit, he crawled!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was enjoying some naked bum time. I turned on the tap to start running his bath and Owen got excited and just crawled down the hall toward the bathroom. That was a special treat on a day Daddy's brain was completely fried from all things H1N1.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-905c7e76c4ee397f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D905c7e76c4ee397f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3F6F6E167B1F3C14FBD7561D1DF13D0D3CB133BF.3BCB95672E95152971E411DA0553FD00678A3392%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D905c7e76c4ee397f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DjDTCCYSqYXVadRmwaQBc4ltry8Q&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D905c7e76c4ee397f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3F6F6E167B1F3C14FBD7561D1DF13D0D3CB133BF.3BCB95672E95152971E411DA0553FD00678A3392%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D905c7e76c4ee397f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DjDTCCYSqYXVadRmwaQBc4ltry8Q&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's still a little laboured, but he's pretty pleased with his new skill. If he's on the floor and you take your eye off him, there's no telling where he'll be when you look back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Owen also went to a Hallowe'en party this week with some of his wee friends. He was Max from Where the Wild Things Are. I can't get over how cute he looked:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SutzNxpmjLI/AAAAAAAAADc/hVWYyelg2lA/s1600-h/october+2009+057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SutzNxpmjLI/AAAAAAAAADc/hVWYyelg2lA/s320/october+2009+057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398535258836995250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe, Owen's enthusiasm for crawling is also contributing to his new napping ability. It used to be he would rarely nap for much more than half an hour. It seemed he didn't want to miss anything in the run of a day. This week he's had some relative marathons, including one of nearly three hours. A blessing for Rhia as I've been putting in some long hours at work this week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On that note, I think I've run out of steam this Friday night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1836960750766747522?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1836960750766747522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1836960750766747522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1836960750766747522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1836960750766747522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/10/mobility.html' title='Mobility!'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SutzNxpmjLI/AAAAAAAAADc/hVWYyelg2lA/s72-c/october+2009+057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8607074988704435305</id><published>2009-10-18T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T16:33:36.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Promises Kept - Cute Baby Story</title><content type='html'>So!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen is trying to start on solid foods. He's interested in food, but not really that interested in being fed, and doesn't have a pincer grip to pick up small bits of food (and hasn't figured out chewing, either). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, sometimes I let him lick the food I'm eating - you know, fruit, bread, that sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at supper tonight, John and I were eating our chicken and veggies, and Owen was in his Bumbo on the table, playing with a rattle and watching. And I gave him a few near-microscopic bits of chicken to taste while I was working on my meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I'd finished cutting all the meat I could off the bone, I picked it up to finish eating. Owen was staring and making sounds like he wanted more chicken, so I pulled off a few more tiny bits, and tried to put them in his mouth and he roared. So I stopped offering, and went back to my food. But he kept staring and making the sounds, but roaring when I tried to give him his own bits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I offered the bone to him and he reached out to grab it with great enthusiasm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately it was a breast piece, so not suitable, but we did end up letting him suck on a well-cleaned-of-meat thigh bone from John's plate for a minute or two, to his delight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My crazy baby...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8607074988704435305?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8607074988704435305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8607074988704435305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8607074988704435305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8607074988704435305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/10/promises-kept-cute-baby-story.html' title='Promises Kept - Cute Baby Story'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-7015435796828147900</id><published>2009-10-16T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T10:46:24.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Months Come and Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StixV4F1jRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/EBUeQf_8zjo/s1600-h/3978520428_7d0754c309_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StixV4F1jRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/EBUeQf_8zjo/s320/3978520428_7d0754c309_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393255543168404754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Tiny Gillis weighed in today at 27.5 inches tall and 19.6 lbs, with a head circumferance of 17.7 in. He weathered his 6 month shots with considerable aplomb, and would like to let you know, loudly, that he still cannot crawl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that's what we've been working on the past few weeks. Sitting up has been mastered and is now old hat. And Owen can roll himself over his feet into a hands and knees position, or pull up into one from his belly. And there he stays, rocking, until he gets tired and flops back onto his belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alternatively he rocks there, or pushes himself backwards with his arms, and screams and screams at the unfairness of it all. Interesting days. One memorable day, with the help of the laundry basket and the TV stand, he managed to pull himself to standing, a treat he usually only enjoys when there are grownups around to help him get up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'll take a delighted few steps though, fat baby fingers holding on to grown up ones and chortles of delight escaping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's started a bit on solid foods, too, though he's not all that interested most days. He had one or two meals he ate with gusto, but has mostly resisted the spoon. We're not pushing too hard, though he needs to get some iron into him one of these days. We've got a baby-safe feeder and has more fun feeding himself, so that may be the route we'll go for the meantime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John and I are doing really well also - the Mr. has hit his stride with Capital Health, impressing the heck out of everyone, as is his wont! He isn't very good at leaving his work at work though. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back at school this semester, taking one class that meets two evenings a week. I just handed in my first assignment and I have to admit that sleep deprivation and mommy brain made buckling down to work harder than usual, and I've never been great at that one. My mom's been great though, taking the baby out so I can have an hour or two to concentrate. Here's hoping it will be OK. I have a month before the next one is due, so hopefully I can get myself together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We travelled to Cape Breton for the Thanksgiving weekend and had a good time seeing the colours. Owen found the car trip a little long to be cooped up in a car seat, but he was great if we took a stop or two to look at the wide world. And in a few weeks he and I are heading to Calgary so he can see his Aunty Kim and Uncle Anthony. Then a visit from our dear friend Katie on our return. Fall is shaping up to be exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to make a special effort to log in more often with fun stories about Mr. Cutie Pants for you in the future, instead of these statistics-filled missives. He's not much of a napper (or a sleeper, these days) so it's a challenge, but I think it's one worth undertaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StipkAdTQzI/AAAAAAAAAdU/FeBEKfWm870/s1600-h/pullup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StipkAdTQzI/AAAAAAAAAdU/FeBEKfWm870/s320/pullup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393246989839450930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-7015435796828147900?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/7015435796828147900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=7015435796828147900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7015435796828147900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7015435796828147900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/10/six-months-come-and-gone.html' title='Six Months Come and Gone'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StixV4F1jRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/EBUeQf_8zjo/s72-c/3978520428_7d0754c309_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5835315482251400071</id><published>2009-10-13T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T07:08:19.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A musical interlude</title><content type='html'>Serious update to follow once Mama's paper is turned in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b48916c5a1550ddf" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db48916c5a1550ddf%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D64A6739AD66AD2376DDFE1ED542AD65213F23CBB.7DE6B119A0DDD05131212396E414D1D5A56C2B9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db48916c5a1550ddf%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLubDQJ8VjJQ6_T_NsTzCmJTVOKs&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db48916c5a1550ddf%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D64A6739AD66AD2376DDFE1ED542AD65213F23CBB.7DE6B119A0DDD05131212396E414D1D5A56C2B9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db48916c5a1550ddf%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLubDQJ8VjJQ6_T_NsTzCmJTVOKs&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5835315482251400071?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5835315482251400071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5835315482251400071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5835315482251400071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5835315482251400071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/10/musical-interlude.html' title='A musical interlude'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-2895360782010910501</id><published>2009-10-02T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T08:10:44.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half-Year Update</title><content type='html'>Owen is taking an unexpected bonus nap, so I'll take this opportunity to catch up with you all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess most salient is that our little O-Doggie is one of those babies who's very reluctant to sleep through the night, and worse at napping. If he's in the car, he may nap two hours, but on your average day it's 40 minutes to exactly one hour in the morning and catch-as-catch-can in the afternoon. I am not desperate enough to stroll the neighbourhood for an hour every day to get that afternoon nap in, but let me tell you I'm getting close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the sleep experts say "sleep begets sleep" and so perhaps getting those naps to be a little longer will be the key to longer stretches at night, but right now we're talking one four hour stretch most nights and then threes and twos until he decides it's time to get up at six (we hope.) I guess he needs to start eating more during the day so he'll want less at night, but trying to convince him of this (either by not feeding at night or by offering more during the day) seems futile at present. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some say that six months is a magic time for sleep training, so our fingers are crossed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less whiny news, O's a little man on the go. He's been sitting up really solidly for over a month now, and while there's still a tumble or two every day, he sits and plays for 15 minutes or so at a time quite contentedly a lot of the time. Mama likes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been thinking about crawling for a while, but took a break earlier this month to work on some babbling. For a while he was all "ba! bla! Bla! da da da da!" but he seems to have moved on to gurgling and "goo!" these days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's still happiest on his feet, prefers the jolly jumper to the exersaucer, but likes most of all if someone will take him by the hands and let him practice walking all over the house. You heard me right! Six months old and he's already on the stroll. He's started to try to pull himself up on people's clothes, the laundry basket and the like too. Good thing his head's still a bit heavy for him to balance well or I could say goodbye to my ability to do other things while I play with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my sister Sarah and I took him swimming for the first time, and while he was initially very apprehensive he had a ball! He likes being upright in the water and paddling on his tummy, but is still not sure about floating on his back. Maybe the water at Centennial is a little cold on his tiny ears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In early September we went out to Winnipeg to visit Owen's paternal grandparents, and had a great time. He's getting excited about his Aunty Heather's upcoming visit, as well as our plans to visit Uncle Anthony and Aunty Kim in Calgary in November. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are too many recent photos to post here, but again, drop in at &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia"&gt;http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia&lt;/a&gt; to see more than you probably need. And videos! I need to add a few more things today, even. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're starting to think about the holidays here at the pickle house... mostly because so many Christmas presents need to get in the mail, but also because my childproofing plans need to include the tree! Owen's letter to Santa is getting put together in the sidebar over to the right, so if you're one of those readers who might like some ideas, you know where to look. For more general inspiration, you can also take a peek at the "Stuff We Like" links. The more I hear about BPA and pthalates, the more plastic scares me, so much so that I'm phasing out our disposable / tupperware containers for glass ones, so forgive me if we come across as hippies with all our wooden toys. Sometimes it seems like the old fashioned stuff that was going out of favour when we were kids was a better idea. What can you do? In any case, Owen's favourite toys right now are a stainless steel bowl, and any paper he can get his hands on, so probably we could give him the boxes toys come in and call it a day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses to all from the little man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SsYX0BZF6OI/AAAAAAAAAc0/QSy6PlStH80/s1600-h/september+2009+028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SsYX0BZF6OI/AAAAAAAAAc0/QSy6PlStH80/s320/september+2009+028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388020186689693922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-2895360782010910501?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/2895360782010910501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=2895360782010910501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2895360782010910501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2895360782010910501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/10/half-year-update.html' title='Half-Year Update'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SsYX0BZF6OI/AAAAAAAAAc0/QSy6PlStH80/s72-c/september+2009+028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6858095759060951835</id><published>2009-08-20T15:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T16:52:29.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Totally Crap at Blogging</title><content type='html'>(If you're reading this from Facebook, click on through, there's video!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What with losing the luxury of having two at-home parents, typing has been thin on the ground around here. We're starting to have a sort of nap schedule, but so many things call to me when he finally goes to sleep - eat? sleep myself? sew? do laundry? read? read the internet? that the blog seems to always lose out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen is an exhausting bundle of fun these days. He sleeps reasonably well at night, most nights, but is an erratic napper, especially with the heat wave we've been experiencing. He's a bundle of energy, sitting up (tripodded and upright) with some success, rolling from his back to his side and tummy, swimming arms and legs, desperate to crawl. He loves to stand up, whether supported with your hands, leaning on furniture, in his jolly jumper, or in someone else's exersaucer (we're working on turning one up for ourselves.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We like to get out of the house, too. We go to a Mom's group every two weeks or so, where all the babies are within a few months of one another. We like to drop in at the nursing support group at &lt;a href="http://www.nurtured.ca"&gt;Nurtured&lt;/a&gt;, an awesome local baby store. Sometimes we go in to work, or on rainy days, to the mall. We walk the city lots of the time - when it's not blazing hot, Owen usually rides in his wrap, but lately we've been using more of the stroller. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week today we leave for a ten-day visit with Owen's Winnipeg friends and family. I know his grandparents are dying to get their hands on him again! Hopefully we'll manage an afternoon on the lake, though I hear it's been cool there of late. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the real reason for this post is some videos of cuteness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As ever, the photos are on &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia"&gt;flickr.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jolly Jumper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8ea2d1f12042e21f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e2cb026169e9c2a&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6858095759060951835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6858095759060951835' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6858095759060951835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6858095759060951835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/08/totally-crap-at-blogging.html' title='Totally Crap at Blogging'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4391128965271989970</id><published>2009-08-03T17:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T17:22:06.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Four Months, Owen!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Snd_I4kwzWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/cN7Di6fBFiE/s1600-h/Four+Months.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 138px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Snd_I4kwzWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/cN7Di6fBFiE/s320/Four+Months.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365897271637495138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4391128965271989970?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4391128965271989970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4391128965271989970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4391128965271989970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4391128965271989970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-four-months-owen.html' title='Happy Four Months, Owen!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Snd_I4kwzWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/cN7Di6fBFiE/s72-c/Four+Months.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5490078803287086154</id><published>2009-07-28T13:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T14:05:38.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In which Rhia is very silly and Owen giggles - a video</title><content type='html'>The camera is beside his head because if I point it at him, he's too distracted to pay attention to silliness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ef686bfd927b3340" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Def686bfd927b3340%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2D0BE49754055FD7F262CD5944FB96A3EDDE0723.85C609BD65AB2E01C5FAECA19D48EC12E5207CC0%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Def686bfd927b3340%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPlwFujwiNE4XSqyhMMuNp7Y10Rw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Def686bfd927b3340%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2D0BE49754055FD7F262CD5944FB96A3EDDE0723.85C609BD65AB2E01C5FAECA19D48EC12E5207CC0%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Def686bfd927b3340%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPlwFujwiNE4XSqyhMMuNp7Y10Rw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5490078803287086154?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=ef686bfd927b3340&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5490078803287086154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5490078803287086154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5490078803287086154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5490078803287086154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-which-rhia-is-very-silly-and-owen.html' title='In which Rhia is very silly and Owen giggles - a video'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6952379415446613228</id><published>2009-07-20T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T06:13:10.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A very late state of the baby post</title><content type='html'>Owen had his four-month checkup on July 20th. The thing was, we were a bit early - four months is when you start booking appointments based on months instead of weeks, apparently, so while we were there eight weeks after his two-month appointment, we were actually two weeks and a bit early for his four-month shots. So we need to go back in to see the nurse after his 'birthday'. The family is travelling to Ottawa this weekend so it will be a nice addition to the general turmoil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, he otherwise seems perfectly healthy and in good developmental standing. He was, at that date, 62 cm tall (24.4 in), 15 and three-quarter pounds (they measure in grams and I forgot the post-it), and has a 42.5 cm head circumferance. He's right on track, percentile wise, to where he was at two months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medical professionals continue to comment on the shape of his head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen is starting to be a joy to be around, except on days when his teeth seem to be on the move. He makes all manner of coos and squeals, and loves to have lengthy conversations, sing along with you, and call out if he can't see where you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's given up trying to roll over in order to focus on more vertical challenges. He can sit unsupported for a few seconds now, and if you pull him up to sitting by his hands will go for standing every single time. He stands very well when held by the hands or leaned against a handy pair of knees. When we force him to have tummy time he holds his head up nice and high, balanced on his forearms. He bats at toys dangled above him, grabs things and moves them to his mouth. He'll shake rattles, bang on tables, and reach for things he wants to explore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He grins and crows and very occasionally giggles when he's happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves to play patty-cake (mostly with his feet because his hands are still usually balled up) and this little piggy. He likes if people sing him The Eeensy Weensy Spider, and The Wheels on the Bus and Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes, especially if they do the hand motions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hesitate to blog it, lest I jinx it, but the past three nights Owen's gone back to his long-stretch sleeping self. And forget four hours! He's been sleeping between five and six hours in a row. Now if only I could remember how to sleep through the night myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past months he's been a little traveller. We went to Moncton for the Father's Day weekend, to Skye Glen the other weekend for the Antigonish Highland Games, Mahone Bay and Lunenburg with his Mamgu and Great Aunty Ann, and now we're off again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know his Grandma is counting the days to his next trip after Ottawa too. We're sort of looking at this weekend as a dress rehearsal for our trip to Winnipeg at the end of August. There's a longer flight involved there, as well as a stopover, so this short trip will be a good trial that will let us know what we need to know to fly with the babe - though at the rate he changes he'll be a whole other creature in another four weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John started a new job in early July, and the recent radio silence has been mostly due to the adjustment to the new routine. I got very spoiled having another pair of hands - someone to whom I could say, could you just hold the baby for a minute?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother has been a great help, and I know she loves to come by. We have good friends in the neighbourhood who are also just a phone call away. But there's something in that immediacy that I really miss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it's good for our family to have that security again, and John is clearly thriving on his new challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were a real blogger, this would be the point where I'd save a draft and come back to this later to edit it. However, I am just your humble hack and, as such, will post this as-is and never read it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a big parenting philosophy post I started back in the heady days of tandem parenting... maybe next week I'll take advantage of a nap to finish it up. Until then, it's time to finish my still-warm coffee before this nap comes to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(As always, the most recent photos are &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt; I'd put them right on this page, but I am widget-impaired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6952379415446613228?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6952379415446613228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6952379415446613228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6952379415446613228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6952379415446613228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/07/very-late-state-of-baby-post.html' title='A very late state of the baby post'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6223094589658812121</id><published>2009-07-06T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T16:25:38.267-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='roll'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d53450af64d4a42b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd53450af64d4a42b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7E25C46AA0EAED0BA0BEF22D22DBBC09CEE629FF.30D77EBAC9C2FBDF63C57C75E4734E95BC7F0D16%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd53450af64d4a42b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DcRaMwIctJOrTgH1GMvKuBVdAn4c&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd53450af64d4a42b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7E25C46AA0EAED0BA0BEF22D22DBBC09CEE629FF.30D77EBAC9C2FBDF63C57C75E4734E95BC7F0D16%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd53450af64d4a42b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DcRaMwIctJOrTgH1GMvKuBVdAn4c&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Owen rolled over a few minutes ago!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He'd done it before, but mostly with assistance. A couple days ago, there was a full on unassisted roll-over, but he wasn't interested in doing it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He seemed pretty into it tonight--moreso than in going to sleep. He rolled over for Rhia during what was supposed to be his nodding off time. She called for the camera, and, with great determination. He rolled again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm headed back to woek next week after nearly four months at home, including all of Owen's days until now. I'm excited to take on a new role in media relations with a group of people I like and who seem happy to have me come aboard. But it will be a big change for all of us in this house full of pickles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope I won't miss too many of these milestones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6223094589658812121?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d53450af64d4a42b&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6223094589658812121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6223094589658812121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6223094589658812121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6223094589658812121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/07/owen-rolled-over-few-minutes-ago-hed.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-2842667661829648690</id><published>2009-07-03T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T12:10:01.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Difference a Month Makes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/nonethewiser/pic/0001r94w/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/nonethewiser/pic/0001r94w/s320x240" width="180" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/nonethewiser/pic/0001qehg/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/nonethewiser/pic/0001qehg/s320x240" width="180" height="240" border='0'/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-2842667661829648690?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/2842667661829648690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=2842667661829648690' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2842667661829648690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2842667661829648690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-difference-month-makes.html' title='What a Difference a Month Makes!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5913545261446102742</id><published>2009-06-27T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T09:04:47.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Talker</title><content type='html'>&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="267" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=27b202c6aa&amp;photo_id=3667852817"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=27b202c6aa&amp;photo_id=3667852817" height="267" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5913545261446102742?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5913545261446102742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5913545261446102742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5913545261446102742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5913545261446102742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/06/little-talker.html' title='Little Talker'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1368939196202311888</id><published>2009-06-25T17:01:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T17:08:45.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiny Milestones</title><content type='html'>Since our departure to Moncton last Friday, Owen has learned to :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grab things&lt;br /&gt;Put things in his mouth&lt;br /&gt;Put himself to sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's still a little inconsistent in the first two, it's not one of his primary interests. Those remain eating and using his legs. But he started directing fingers to his mouth over the weekend and then, when he was in his car seat on the way back from Moncton, we heard him squeak his Sophie Giraffe a couple of times, and when I looked back, he was happily gnawing on an ear. Go baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then tonight I had him on my lap, as I often do, nursing him through his evening cluster feed, and he was done eating, but not done sucking, so he went to sleep sucking on my finger. And once he was well and truly sleeping, I thought he might as well sleep in his bed as on my lap, so he could practice sleeping on his own. Anyway, he slept all the way up the stairs, but the little blue eyes blinked open as I set him in his bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since we'd come that far, and since he'd been so god with his thumb sucking lately, I just took a few steps back to see if he would settle or cry. And he flailed around a little, made a few fussy noises, but seemed relaxed enough, so I came back downstairs. John checked on him after a few minutes, and he was sucking his thumb. So I brushed the cat, and then went up to shower, and looked in on the baby - passed out cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Michael Jackson has died. And Farah Fawcett too. Good heavens! Where are the 80s going?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1368939196202311888?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1368939196202311888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1368939196202311888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1368939196202311888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1368939196202311888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/06/tiny-milestones.html' title='Tiny Milestones'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-7015419424046278306</id><published>2009-06-14T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T11:16:06.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 week melancholy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SjU-VHp50aI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/2OJ7BCkd1yM/s1600-h/Picture+427.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SjU-VHp50aI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/2OJ7BCkd1yM/s320/Picture+427.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347248665125310882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To begin, a list of words Owen has accidentally uttered:&lt;br /&gt;uh-oh&lt;br /&gt;oh no&lt;br /&gt;now&lt;br /&gt;ma&lt;br /&gt;dad&lt;br /&gt;mamgu (Welsh for grandmother)&lt;br /&gt;nah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This game amuses us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every new thing he learns - a new way to make a sound, a new way to move, means he loses something else. There are no more adorable goat noises these days, and a lot more whining and cooing and happy squeals. The devastating newborn wail is gone, too, which is nice, and the shrieking stage (the first of several, I'm sure) was mercifully brief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't say that the distinction between his cries isn't welcome, even if a lot of them are seriously whiny now. But I miss the bleating, and treasure it when it escapes from a deep-sleeping baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, at an Old Man Luedeke matinee, of all places, we ran into another couple we'd met once or twice at a mutual friend's, with their two-week-old son. It was such an incredible wave of nostalgia... nostalgia for two months ago, of all things. I held him for a minute, and smelled his head, and could understand, for a brief flash, why people have more than one (this is not apparent in the months directly after childbirth.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want Owen to learn things that will make him happier - sucking his thumb is a first step on being able to bring things to his mouth, which will open up the wonderful world of toys, and it's great that he'll lie still and look at things for longer and longer periods - but also want him to stay a tiny baby in some ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear this sort of thing never really goes away, once you start down this road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's OK. It's a good sort of heartbreak to have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-7015419424046278306?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/7015419424046278306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=7015419424046278306' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7015419424046278306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7015419424046278306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/06/10-week-melancholy.html' title='10 week melancholy'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SjU-VHp50aI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/2OJ7BCkd1yM/s72-c/Picture+427.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6100863016984282335</id><published>2009-05-31T04:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T17:29:25.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SicUKEohHMI/AAAAAAAAAbI/CNRgSxwxsJ0/s1600-h/may+2009+079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SicUKEohHMI/AAAAAAAAAbI/CNRgSxwxsJ0/s320/may+2009+079.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343261646173314242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen turned eight weeks old on Friday the 29th and will be two calendar months old on Wednesday the 3rd. He weighs 13 lbs, is 58 cm(23 in) tall, and has a 41 cm (16 in) head circumferance. (75th percentile, 50th percentile and 75th percentile, respectively). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems incredible that two months have gone by already, and at the same time I can't really remember what life was like before... And life before I got pregnant? No idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started social smiling this week, and it makes all the hard work up to date finally really feel worthwhile. One thing they don't really mention about newborns is the fact that they don't give but take take take. You have to make do with the soft cuddliness of them and try not to burn out. Then all of a sudden - the smiles, oh the smiles. They are absolutely infectious! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SiJua43aOTI/AAAAAAAAAbA/9Tq_qu1d8N0/s1600-h/IMG_1141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SiJua43aOTI/AAAAAAAAAbA/9Tq_qu1d8N0/s320/IMG_1141.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341953516235274546"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes to lie in the crook of my arm now and look up at me and coo and make conversation. I have to drop everything and just chat with him as soon as it starts - lovely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a huge fan of the tub and takes advantage of his nightly (allegedly calming) baths to get out a whole day's worth of vigorous kicking and splashing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, the colic has been back the past few evenings, which is a challenge. And he goes back and forth between being a nursing champ and a strange crying at the breast weirdo. I am sure we can get that straightened out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we headed out to Dartmouth Crossing to run some errands, and decided to try and catch a showing of Star Trek while the theatre was likely to be quiet. We ended up with the place to ourselves! Did you know that if you ask nicely, and there's no one else in the theatre, they'll turn the sound down for you? How cool is that? Anyway, it was a great movie, and Owen did really well, eating and watching the trailers and being generally nonplussed by the sound and violence. He even spent a little time on the theatre steps, after having his diaper changed. (Thank goodness for changing pads, is all I have to say about that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're starting a monthly 'birthday' pic tradition, but that photo will have to wait for tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likes: &lt;br /&gt;crinkly eared Peter Rabbit&lt;br /&gt;car rides, when there are no traffic lights&lt;br /&gt;being in the wrap, usually&lt;br /&gt;strolling in the stroller&lt;br /&gt;lying in the crib looking at the mobile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dislikes: &lt;br /&gt;strange undefined list of things that cause screaming and parental distress&lt;br /&gt;May include some likes above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(apologies if you caught this post the first time around - I posted before I was done!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6100863016984282335?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6100863016984282335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6100863016984282335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6100863016984282335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6100863016984282335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/05/two-months_31.html' title='Two Months'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SicUKEohHMI/AAAAAAAAAbI/CNRgSxwxsJ0/s72-c/may+2009+079.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5038120997718102781</id><published>2009-05-18T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T16:58:44.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Wow, does the time ever go by quickly! But at the same time, it doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;Owen is just over six weeks old now and it's kind of hard to remember what life was like before him.&lt;br /&gt;It's partly just the general haze. I can't complain about lack of sleep. I get enough all in all (My baby-minding shift usually goes to somewhere around midnight and I'm back on at seven-ish in the morning--sometimes I do changings in between but generally I have no memory of what goes on between those hours. When I'm out, I'm out.) Somehow, though, I've just got some of the "baby brain."&lt;br /&gt;Having Mom, Dad and Heather here for part of April and May was great, but also contributed to my becoming unmoored in time.&lt;br /&gt;It's officially a long weekend, but I've been on a long weekend for two months now. It doesn't matter what day it is, so I don't think much about it.&lt;br /&gt;Not having to go to work these days is absolutely great. The initial flameout of my former job was no fun, but with Owen to occupy our days full time, I've forgotten all about that stuff. I don't feel like a guy without a job. I feel like a guy with a big, exciting (but also often boring for long stretches) and demanding job with very few breaks.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not too bad at it.&lt;br /&gt;People have asked me "Is it what you expected?"&lt;br /&gt;I really didn't know what to expect.&lt;br /&gt;I feared there would be lots of moments when I just wouldn't know what to do with or for the baby. I thought I might even get a little panicky or overwhelmed. So far, that hasn't been the case. You figure it out. You try everything. When Owen screams in my ear or grabs a fistful of chest hair, I continue rocking him and sweetly say , "Oh! You've got a good grasp on that chest hair!"&lt;br /&gt;And it's darn satisfying when you can get a cranky baby settled an sleeping by singing slow airs in his ear&lt;br /&gt;I'm usually on diaper duty through the day. I don't think I ever believed the folks who said, "The poop is not a big deal--you just deal with it." But it's true. Not a big deal it all. It's often kind of a fun time for Owen and I. We chat and joke.&lt;br /&gt;I watch a ton more TV than I have in years and years. I feel very blessed to have had a baby right on the cusp of NHL playoff season, and that Eastlink still mysteriously gives us TSN months and months after we reverted to basic cable from a free trial extended package.&lt;br /&gt;So, yes, Owen and I have seen basically every game in the last six weeks, and we've enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;The others stuff on TV? Not so much. What Not to Wear is a guilty pleasure, and I find myself sitting through strings of episodes of things like A Baby Story and those shows about getting out of debt or cleaning your disgusting house (all of which have the effect of making me feel good about our finances and cleanliness).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, the Penguins just scored and the above is the most I've written in ages.&lt;br /&gt;And they score again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must pay more attention to hockey...we'll try to be better bloggers in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5038120997718102781?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5038120997718102781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5038120997718102781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5038120997718102781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5038120997718102781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/05/wow-does-time-ever-go-by-quickly-but-at.html' title=''/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-574525577320843941</id><published>2009-05-05T10:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T10:07:59.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Owen - Four and a half weeks old!</title><content type='html'>It's hard to believe that Owen is a whole month old. There's a huge learning curve to this life with a baby thing, and I won't deny that all of us are still figuring things out, but at the same time it's hard to remember the days before we had him with us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much time and so little time has passed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are still pretty sweet around here - we're in love with our boy. There are moments, of course, when he's screaming, or eating constantly, or fussy and nothing will calm him, where it's just plain hard. But there are lots more moments where we can't get over how amazing he is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day he changes more, makes new sounds - chirps and crows and coos - and more intentional sounds. Instead of immediately dissolving when he's wet or hungry or lonely, he calls out for us, then waits for us to respond, and calls again. When he nurses, he tickles my ribs with his bottom hand, and nests his top one in my cleavage or hangs on to my neckline or takes a handful of my sweater. When he needs a burp he grouses with his mouth full until I bring him up to my shoulder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we put him down on the floor to play he looks so hard at every new book and toy. He seems to want so very much to roll over or crawl (not yet, baby, not yet!) He stares into people's faces now, and looks around for his dad or I when he hears us in the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He weighs 10.5 lbs now! He's growing out of his newborn duds! Fortunately, John's cousin sent us a giant bag of hand-me-down clothes, so with all the gorgeous outfits he's been receiving as gifts, he's well dressed through several sizes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a little thrown off by so many visitors still, and spoiled by so much sleeping in arms, but he's starting to build a nighttime routine. He'll eat around 12:30, around 3:30 and around 7. And OK, so he spends 45 minutes to an hour awake each time, which doesn't add up to a whole lot of sleep, but things could be much, much worse! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we took him in to the Herald to visit with his dad's ex-co-workers and he was a little angel the whole time. With a quick parking lot lunch, he was ready for time with Grandma and Dad while I got a haircut. It was a tiny bit nerve-wracking to be away from him for an hour, but we all survived (he slept through the whole thing and I concentrated on being just a couple streets away.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone keeps being impressed that we're up and dressed and out of the house - but it's for my own sanity more than anything else, believe me. If I spent the whole day in my housecoat I don't think I'd do very well! It's been wonderful to be co-parenting through this whole needy stage as well - there's no pressure to make sure that John gets tons of sleep so he can be productive, so if things go awry on my shift I don't feel guilty getting help, and it's been good to have so many willing people to hand him over to during the day as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had him baptised last Sunday, and he was very good for that as well, even if I did have to feed him in the pews. He screamed bloody murder in the restaurant afterwards, but he never does like to wait for his food. There are photos, as usual, in &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia"&gt;flickr&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for joining us on the journey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-574525577320843941?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/574525577320843941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=574525577320843941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/574525577320843941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/574525577320843941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/05/owen-four-and-half-weeks-old.html' title='Owen - Four and a half weeks old!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6282730604141572482</id><published>2009-04-20T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T05:56:18.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Amazing Baby!</title><content type='html'>Owen can lift and turn his sweet little head!&lt;br /&gt;And he slept 3 hours in his basket last night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ef1fc14f8e89efad" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" 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href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6282730604141572482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6282730604141572482' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6282730604141572482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6282730604141572482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/04/our-amazing-baby.html' title='Our Amazing Baby!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-532257109070047120</id><published>2009-04-16T17:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T17:39:04.583-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grunt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='squeak'/><title type='text'>Video extravaganza</title><content type='html'>I'm multitasking: got the swaddled bean in one arm and posting with the other,&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention watching hockey.&lt;br /&gt;Apologies for sidewaysness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-bb505a12f6d29d93" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbb505a12f6d29d93%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D507177DFEDD31B4D1D6E9ED164F0FBABEF9813AE.1B41AB4A197A5B6DAFFEB12D10350B63219B0C98%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbb505a12f6d29d93%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DuZCdnhVuOOvSLAuAd_jvjzNZ34c&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Squeak!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e558adb345af897f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param 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href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=bb505a12f6d29d93&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e558adb345af897f&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/532257109070047120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=532257109070047120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/532257109070047120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/532257109070047120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/04/video-extravaganza.html' title='Video extravaganza'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-2109045189312192565</id><published>2009-04-14T16:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T17:04:04.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mum's View - Day 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SeUhUnCiC0I/AAAAAAAAAa4/ImwelqjGCOQ/s1600-h/IMG_0598.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SeUhUnCiC0I/AAAAAAAAAa4/ImwelqjGCOQ/s320/IMG_0598.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324698772396182338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to write today and then the baby was only sleeping for 90 minutes at a time last night and John was sweet enough to let me get my sleep in the morning and then I went down to the Community Health Centre to a mom's group mostly because the Public Health Nurse was also going to be there to weigh the baby and give nursing support. Owen weighs 7 lbs 13 oz! He's up 7 oz since Thursday, and 11 since last week! To think I was worried about supply early last week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group was overwhelming and loud, but it was nice to talk with some other moms and share birth stories and baby development stuff. It was a bit stressful to take the bus, but it also felt good to be out in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, was exhausted when we came back and we had a family nap on the couch, then supper and now I'm pondering just going to bed at 7:30 since Owen is asleep. But John is writing the baptism ceremony so I guess I will wait for the next feeding and go to bed then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've started, writing seems easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby is amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiles in his sleep.&lt;br /&gt;He can pick his head up when he's lying on his front with his head turned to one side(usually he's on my chest) and turn it to the other side.&lt;br /&gt;He can get his tiny little thumb right into his mouth with decent accuracy (sometimes fingers).&lt;br /&gt;He likes to sit up and look at the world.&lt;br /&gt;He likes to look at books.&lt;br /&gt;Today he sat up and held his head steady for almost 20 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;He likes his daddy's voice.&lt;br /&gt;If he wants to, he can grab my fingers with both hands and pull them into his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaand some other things I can't think of anymore because my brain just melted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is beautiful and accomplished and I love him even if sometimes I wish he'd just let me keep sleeping in the middle of the night... just for two hours at a stretch...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owen photos in Flickr here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia/tags/owen/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-2109045189312192565?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/2109045189312192565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=2109045189312192565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2109045189312192565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2109045189312192565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/04/mums-view-day-11.html' title='A Mum&apos;s View - Day 11'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SeUhUnCiC0I/AAAAAAAAAa4/ImwelqjGCOQ/s72-c/IMG_0598.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-2971656921323557077</id><published>2009-04-08T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T16:42:08.763-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iwk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='owen'/><title type='text'>So...did we mention we had a baby?</title><content type='html'>We did! On Friday, we had a baby! Owen Alexander (although he didn't get that name until Saturday afternoon).&lt;br /&gt;We had joked recently that maybe Petey, as he was then known, would wait for the rain. Good things happen to us in the rain. The day Rhia and I fell in love, I showed up to meet her a sad looking bedraggled mess. And it poured on the day of our wedding and did not stop for three weeks. Well, Owen did wait for the rain. It was foggy most of Friday, but it began to come down around the time he made his way into the world at 8:44 p.m. and I'm told it poured buckets through the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c63f13ba2e0518bd" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc63f13ba2e0518bd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6473A642D31FEE1D3A313E9420E24E0CA9E6EDF7.71B4FD95CBEE0916BB2EB6FA830713A257BF9398%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc63f13ba2e0518bd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DpNiPfaun76e0vM7vK6RJPcdop5s&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc63f13ba2e0518bd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6473A642D31FEE1D3A313E9420E24E0CA9E6EDF7.71B4FD95CBEE0916BB2EB6FA830713A257BF9398%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc63f13ba2e0518bd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DpNiPfaun76e0vM7vK6RJPcdop5s&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the time stamp on this video, Owen was seven minutes old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it all started when...well, it all started quite a while ago. But this part started last Wednesday night when Rhia developed a slow leak of amniotic fluid. This was confirmed at her scheduled doctor's appointment Thursday and the doctor said we had the afternoon to try get labour going by itself. They like to induce people who have not begun labour within 24 hours of water breaking due to a risk of infection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did a lot of walking. (At one point we passed a guy who was trying to light a cigarette behind his hat. He looked at me and said, "If my fedora catches on fire, should I sue the city of Halifax...for too much wind?" I was too preoccupied with the Holy-Crap-we're-going-to-have-a-baby stuff to come back with a witty answer) We ate spicy food. Rhia drank raspberry leaf tea.&lt;br /&gt;None of this seemed to spark anything significant. We went in to the IWK for assessment mid-evening. Mum and baby were doing fine and the hospital was busy. So they sent us home to await a call to come for induction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long sleepless night followed. Finally, at 11 Friday morning we got the call.&lt;br /&gt;Rhia asked if the doctor could break her water properly to see if that would start things. The doc agreed. There was a big gush and we set to pacing the halls of the birthing unit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things did seem to happen--strong contractions. But at about 2:30 p.m., it was decided that they would begin induction with pitocin, because I guess it wasn't happening enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next few hours were very tough on Rhia and hard to see for me, although I tried to be supportive. The pitocin made the contractions pretty relentless and Rhia was already exhausted from the sleepless night. I've never seen a person work so hard, although she would muster it all again for the pushing stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With sheer will, movement, a wacky machine that electrocutes your muscles, showers and baths, the help of Shannon our doula and eventually an epidural, Rhia made it through all that and recovered enough energy to deliver our beautiful boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, she completely wowed me! I was a little concerned at one point that Petey was going to be absolutely minuscule because the bit of his head that I could see was so small. Turned out it was just the point of his conehead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next bit was all full of activity and me weeping happy tears. I managed to cut his umbilical cord through that. Actually I did it twice, separating him from Rhia and then trimming the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next couple days of hospital stay were full of bad sleep, visits from wonderful friends and family and Subway sandwiches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here we are now, a family. He's nursing successfully, though it's taken some learning on both parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting this diaper business down to a science. He actually didn't poop for more than a day after leaving the hospital, so we were pretty happy about the gooey little bundle of joy he eventually did produce. Today I even had the delight of changing one diaper only to have him immediately fill the fresh one. And Rhia has been peed on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lost his cord stump. I wondered for a while what to do with it and eventually just pitched it out. Afterwards I thought perhaps I should have mailed it to the winner of the date/size pool. Sorry, Blair, you missed out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To wrap up, a few random things I wrote down during labour and delivery:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Rhia arrived, she was handed a Johnny-shirt (I resent that name) stamped Yarmouth Regional Hospital and laid down on a pillow stamped "Removal from St. Martha's Regional Hospital is theft."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second time our (first) nurse, Beth, came in she smelled strongly of chocolate chip cookie dough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was foggy and our birth room looked out over the corner of Robie and South. There were lots of buses going by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7:25 Rhia was fully dialated and ready to push.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point she said, "I don't feel like I'm going to have a baby. I just feel like ow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I totally just sang Owen out of a major meltdown with My Home from my Lord Selkirk Boy Scout Pipe Band days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-2971656921323557077?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c63f13ba2e0518bd&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/2971656921323557077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=2971656921323557077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2971656921323557077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2971656921323557077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/04/sodid-we-mention-we-had-baby.html' title='So...did we mention we had a baby?'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-3719156920988014511</id><published>2009-03-30T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T17:30:38.787-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petey baby pool'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='names'/><title type='text'>Name our baby!</title><content type='html'>We left you with a cliffhanger: would a walk to the post office provoke Petey to appear? Would he hold out for Monday's torrential rain, choosing to move from one wet world to another?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer, so far, is no. Our ageless beauty is still where he's spent all his days until now. At 37 weeks, he should be fully baked. Mom (Rhia) is ready to send the eviction papers, but also reminding herself that each extra day in utero is good for the babe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With things seeming to happen and then petering out (note pun!), some people are getting excited about the idea that Petey will soon be a person in the world (yes, I'm one of those people).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a person in the world, he'll need a name. In the spirit of fun and "hey, we're open to suggestions," future Petey-sitter M. Steeleworthy has created: peteypool.blogspot.com.&lt;br /&gt;Have fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-3719156920988014511?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/3719156920988014511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=3719156920988014511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3719156920988014511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3719156920988014511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/03/name-our-baby.html' title='Name our baby!'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-2674139652919801529</id><published>2009-03-26T15:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T15:00:23.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Action, perhaps?</title><content type='html'>I have been sort of crampy and uncomfortable since about midnight. I have been having contractions on and off all day, with one sort of memorable 2-hour stretch where they were getting both longer and closer and more intense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've eased off again now, but I'm feeling a little manic - came home and put chicken and sqaush and sweet potatoes and beet into the oven for dinner, maniacally worked on a crochet hat, put together some parcels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John's home now and as soon as I finish this one hat and I make up one last parcel we are going to walk to the post office before it closes at 8 and then maybe walk some more if it doesn't get too cold and see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be tonight or it may yet be later in the weekend. Sunday it's due to rain, and since we fell in love in the rain and got married in the rain, he may well be planning to hold out for rain... except I'm not sure one can tell the weather when in utero!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-2674139652919801529?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/2674139652919801529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=2674139652919801529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2674139652919801529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/2674139652919801529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/03/action-perhaps.html' title='Action, perhaps?'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1216189900226287985</id><published>2009-03-24T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T16:36:02.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>March Showers Bring April Babies?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Alternate Title: A Heartwarming Shower of Staggering Genius&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Sunday, a delightful panel of lovely ladies code-named Mum, J-Lau, and L-A were sweet enough to throw me the most lovely shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They really outdid themselves. Mum put together an amazing spread with meatballs and dips and fruit and delicious quiches. She blew up some 50 balloons, made roses from baby washcloths and diapers of regular ones, and had ribbon streamers everywhere. The food was enjoyed by all - many compliments to the chef are still arriving!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls planned a suite of games that people seemed to enjoy - we matched up baby animals, thought up creative names, and everyone else played bingo while I opened gift after lovely gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John's Mom even joined us by phone for a brief while - we'd tried to arrange for a video link, but time differences and technology made it a challenge. With magical mother's intuition, she called just seconds after I'd been passed the gift she mailed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Petey made out like a bandit, with shoes, and clothes and toys galore, baby care gear like thermometers and toothbrushes, sheets for his bed, a carseat, a nursing pillow, a moses basket, a bumbo, a crib mattress, the whole shebang! He got some books too, and lots and lots of aquatically themed things for his collection. His Aunty Sarah had even crocheted him a lovely soft blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite a challenge to get it all squared away! The little man will definitely be reminded how lucky and loved he is on a very frequent basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His room is now pretty much complete, and we'll point you to a suite of photos once we've finished the last few touches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess everyone is ready to meet him any time now - but after Friday is better, we'd all like him to hang on for 37 weeks! (except me, when in the midst of false labour, but that's something else entirely.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in short, thank you again to everyone who came out to the shower and spoiled us in so many ways. You are all beautiful and we feel incredibly loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some pictures are on Flickr - &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia/sets/72157615775717620/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1216189900226287985?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1216189900226287985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1216189900226287985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1216189900226287985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1216189900226287985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-showers-bring-april-babies.html' title='March Showers Bring April Babies?'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4553237309946780225</id><published>2009-03-16T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T14:52:04.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A new wrinkle!</title><content type='html'>Last Thursday, at my 35 week appointment we learned that there are some signs I may go into labour before expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm on a sort of modified bedrest. I was going to do half-days at work starting the 23rd, but I started this week instead. I'll work Monday, Tuesday morning, Wednesday, Thursday afternoon (working around meetings). Thursday I have another appointment, so if things are stable, with regards to last week, I'll probably do another week of half-days. If things continue to move, I'll go off work, to do my very best to hold onto Pete until at least the 27th, which will be 37 weeks, and is basically term.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now though, I'm under instruction to reduce my activity, and to spend an hour or two lying down twice a day. Easier said than done, for a restless gal like me, but worth it. If I aim to lie down around lunchtime and around suppertime, I can work either morning or afternoon without too much stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there's that, and finishing up my course. Fortunately, I'd been making an effort over the past few weeks to get my coursework done, so aside from the final exam, I`m in pretty good shape. And the prof and I are pretty sure we can work something out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, could be soon, could be weeks from now, but this mama is in the slow lane until at least the end of the month. Wish us all luck, and at least two more weeks at status quo. DEFINITELY at least one more week, because my shower is next Sunday. But look -- I've totally 'dropped'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Sb7JKgnCK4I/AAAAAAAAAao/GcPAakBPx7g/s1600-h/IMG_0291.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Sb7JKgnCK4I/AAAAAAAAAao/GcPAakBPx7g/s320/IMG_0291.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313905792733293442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Sb7JLeKNdvI/AAAAAAAAAaw/lBInzqeSpx4/s1600-h/IMG_0306.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Sb7JLeKNdvI/AAAAAAAAAaw/lBInzqeSpx4/s320/IMG_0306.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313905809255397106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Last week&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;This week&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4553237309946780225?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4553237309946780225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4553237309946780225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4553237309946780225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4553237309946780225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/03/new-wrinkle.html' title='A new wrinkle!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Sb7JKgnCK4I/AAAAAAAAAao/GcPAakBPx7g/s72-c/IMG_0291.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1721740888244203084</id><published>2009-03-15T04:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T04:13:06.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminder - Baby Pool</title><content type='html'>Things are getting close around here, so I am reminding anyone who`d like to that they can still enter a guess in our baby pool. Pay nothing! Win bragging rights!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It`s here: http://expectnet.com/game.php &lt;br /&gt;And the game is called: peteysday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Longer post soon, I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1721740888244203084?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1721740888244203084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1721740888244203084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1721740888244203084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1721740888244203084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/03/reminder-baby-pool.html' title='Reminder - Baby Pool'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5661548840658313612</id><published>2009-03-10T09:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T09:24:43.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shameless!</title><content type='html'>Today I am promoting someone else just for the chance of winning something. What can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Win a free Bumgenius 3.0 Diaper! This is a valuable All-In-One cloth diaper that you can use for yourself or give as a gift to someone expecting a baby! Go check out Hot Belly Mama's Blog for details on how to win this wonderful All In One Cloth Diaper. Hot Belly Mama will announce the winner on March 30th, after her 30th birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the direct link to her blog:&lt;br /&gt;http://hotbellymama.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;Good luck!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5661548840658313612?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5661548840658313612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5661548840658313612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5661548840658313612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5661548840658313612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/03/shameless.html' title='Shameless!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6987143146872672046</id><published>2009-02-28T18:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T18:55:21.744-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crib'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nursery'/><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SanxQxI8weI/AAAAAAAAABc/BkuFKAmY1dg/s1600-h/february+2009+031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SanxQxI8weI/AAAAAAAAABc/BkuFKAmY1dg/s200/february+2009+031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308038906203914722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhia's Mum and I spent part of this afternoon putting the first new coat of paint on the room that was an office/sewing room for the first several months we've lived here and will soon be Petey's room. Through the past week we (mostly Rhia) have sorted through drawers and boxes, dismantled shelves and moved desks. Once the painting is done (it will be a lovely sea green-blue), we'll set up the crib, move in a dresser and a beautiful rocking chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than the colour of the walls has been changing this week. When I wrote not that long ago about how Petey would be born into a world where a black guy had always been president of the United States, I assumed he'd also be born into a world where his Dad was a newspaper man--a mild-mannered reporter.&lt;br /&gt;That's not true anymore.&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, I signed and handed in the papers to accept a buyout from The Herald.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to work there anymore. It kind of shocks me to say that, because up until about a month ago, I loved my job.&lt;br /&gt;I really loved my job. I think it's important work. I know I was good at it. It thrilled me and made my heart race. I loved the people I worked with, both in the office and outside.&lt;br /&gt;I'm an old-fashioned guy, and I happily and naively imagined I'd do this job in this place for many years. I know by walking away, I'm basically walking away from the profession. That's really torn me up.&lt;br /&gt;But really, the job that I loved is already gone.&lt;br /&gt;None of that at all is the fault of the people I work with directly, but it's become a miserable place to be and I imagine it will stay that way for some time.&lt;br /&gt;Some people are getting laid off. I wasn't on that list at the beginning. There's a chance I might not have ended up on it, but by going voluntarily, I'll spare the job of someone else who still wants to be there.&lt;br /&gt;A big part of my decision was the way this has all cast a black cloud over what have otherwise been the happiest days I've ever known.&lt;br /&gt;Talking to a friend the other night, I was saying I have a very low tolerance for being miserable or for seeing others in misery, being treated badly. He joked that that was from lack of experience. It's true: all my life, wonderful things have fallen into my lap and I've seen very few hard times. That's not been the case for him.&lt;br /&gt;There were a couple moments this week when I thought, maybe I'm just too sensitive--I should be able to live with some despair and it shouldn't bother me so deeply to see others made so unhappy. That will all pass.&lt;br /&gt;But I quickly shake my head and think--why would I want to be a person like that?&lt;br /&gt;What kind of role model would I be for Petey if I trudged in every day to a job I no longer cared about, to an office I dreaded being in and a place where I just got used to seeing my friends weep?&lt;br /&gt;I can't let "them" do that to me.&lt;br /&gt;I owe it more to my unborn son to be happy than to be employed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/San3HRKTu4I/AAAAAAAAABk/28SCK7LfACA/s1600-h/february+2009+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/San3HRKTu4I/AAAAAAAAABk/28SCK7LfACA/s200/february+2009+006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308045340070624130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having made my decision, I feel a weight off my shoulders. You can see, in the second photo where I've cracked the President's Choice dealcoholized sparkling rose, I'm happy.&lt;br /&gt;I'll land in another job soon in enough. And in the meantime, I'll be more than happy to spend some time with Rhia and Petey.&lt;br /&gt;And I'll have six years' worth of great stories to tell him about his dad, the newspaper man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6987143146872672046?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6987143146872672046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6987143146872672046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6987143146872672046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6987143146872672046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/02/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SanxQxI8weI/AAAAAAAAABc/BkuFKAmY1dg/s72-c/february+2009+031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-686645340446153613</id><published>2009-02-20T07:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T07:40:16.278-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Still within!</title><content type='html'>We had a bit of alarm with some Braxton-Hicks gone wild on Tuesday, which resulted in spending 7 hours at the IWK over a 24-hour period. But everything looks just dandy in the end, so it was probably just my body's message that it would appreciate a bit of a slowdown in the daily activities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hey, we got this picture out of the deal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SZ7OjsvbVLI/AAAAAAAAAag/xlBL0L9IWYg/s1600-h/bebe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SZ7OjsvbVLI/AAAAAAAAAag/xlBL0L9IWYg/s320/bebe.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304904523789849778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus the doctor let the news slip about the boy parts between the legs. Nice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-686645340446153613?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/686645340446153613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=686645340446153613' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/686645340446153613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/686645340446153613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/02/still-within.html' title='Still within!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SZ7OjsvbVLI/AAAAAAAAAag/xlBL0L9IWYg/s72-c/bebe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-7787129457539366225</id><published>2009-02-15T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T17:55:42.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Visible belly wiggles</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b4868425c16a1c70" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db4868425c16a1c70%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D700C2374CA66A4E59789A38F52CAD62C5B346C71.117C8E67D1AA33326CD4A9BA436980648B3E4446%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db4868425c16a1c70%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DD0DMybt2VWSnR28LThVFhevp3SE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db4868425c16a1c70%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D700C2374CA66A4E59789A38F52CAD62C5B346C71.117C8E67D1AA33326CD4A9BA436980648B3E4446%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db4868425c16a1c70%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DD0DMybt2VWSnR28LThVFhevp3SE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-7787129457539366225?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b4868425c16a1c70&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/7787129457539366225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=7787129457539366225' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7787129457539366225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7787129457539366225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/02/visible-belly-wiggles.html' title='Visible belly wiggles'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-567889513882656605</id><published>2009-02-14T08:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T17:57:05.131-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So! My co-workers like me!</title><content type='html'>This past Thursday, they decided to throw me a surprise baby shower at work. They'd circulated the word and a card all through the department - all four floors! Then they scurried around all morning setting up under my nose. Until my supervisor called me into a fake meeting that she'd rescheduled... then someone else on our team came into the meeting and asked if we'd mind changing boardrooms because he was really tired of being in the little one ... anyway... subterfuge, subterfuge, then a room full of twenty people shouting "Surprise!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'd decorated it all up with balloons and streamers, and there were all kinds of crustless sandwiches and veggie trays and all that good stuff and then the cards and gifts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lovely, lovely people had collected an obscene amount on a gift card for baby stuff, and then there were presents beside that! The truly curious can check out the &lt;a href="http://flickr.com/photos/rhia/sets/72157613783933361/"&gt;flickr set&lt;/a&gt;. Oh! There was a baby gate too! Forgot to snap that one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're feeling plenty spoiled - let's leave it at that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-567889513882656605?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/567889513882656605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=567889513882656605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/567889513882656605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/567889513882656605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-my-co-workers-like-me.html' title='So! My co-workers like me!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4196591087978346199</id><published>2009-02-06T05:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T05:51:31.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More rational 30 week update</title><content type='html'>Things are actually going really well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean... we are well into the uncomfortable stage. This belly is just hanging way out in front, and the ligaments in my low belly are letting me know about it. It's hard to sit gracefully anymore, and changing positions... well, there's grunting going on. It is a multi-step process to roll over in bed, and sometimes I need a little push to get off the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, comes with the territory!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Petey is a little monster in there. His movements are now visible if you catch him at the right time. I'll try to get video, because it's pretty darned funny. The strength he has now means that he can give me some right good jabs though. Sometimes mid-conversation I'll just get a punch that requires an 'ow!' Pretty funny. He's also fond of turning sideways (I think) and stretching, which can be confusable with Braxton Hicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting more little practice contractions these days, some of them pretty intense. They seem to all be loners so I'm not worried about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got weighed yesterday just because I was in there, and I'm essentially at the same weight as last week. Which is good. Because if I were gaining a lot... it would be bad news, given the rest of the news. But it is not, so la!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really starting to get into imagining life with a babe. I can't wait to feel this little dude's soft, soft skin and look at his(her) pretty little eyes. I am even looking forward to poopy little diapers! Speaking of which, I hope they come and friggin' fix the washing machine soon because it's time to get all this stuff sparkly clean and ready. Not to mention I need to move furniture and paint(I have recruited volunteers!) and set up the crib! I should take photos of the fancy baby tent/bed we bought. Don't know if we will or won't use it as a bassinet - it's bigger than we imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have these boxes of stuff that we don't need I unearthed while on various nesting missions and I can't decide whether to go through it and sort it for sell, offer to friends, donate, or just throw the whole shebang in a Salvation Army bin... Advice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also still undecided about how to use up my two pedicure gift cards... One now and one in April? Or one in April and one in summer as a baby-break treat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe this is really happening so so so soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I have to carry this thing around for another two months!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such is the third trimester!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4196591087978346199?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4196591087978346199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4196591087978346199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4196591087978346199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4196591087978346199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/02/more-rational-30-week-update.html' title='More rational 30 week update'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-1146844071080561169</id><published>2009-02-05T17:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T17:22:02.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do not be alarmed!</title><content type='html'>Sorry for being dramatic with the last post. It's really not a big deal at all at this point, just a little frustrating and inconvenient. I'm not even on any formal eating plan, just a list of dos and don'ts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more than certain I can live without junk food for a couple of months! Both me and Wee Pete are going to be just fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-1146844071080561169?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/1146844071080561169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=1146844071080561169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1146844071080561169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/1146844071080561169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-not-be-alarmed.html' title='Do not be alarmed!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-3609312861202647253</id><published>2009-02-05T07:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T07:56:49.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unhappy week.</title><content type='html'>By now, many of you have probably heard about the layoffs at the Chronicle Herald. John hasn't been laid off, but nothing is for certain yet. Regardless, many of our good friends &lt;b&gt;have&lt;/b&gt; been laid off. So it's a little sad around here these days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's the pregnancy news... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Thursday, I did the routine blood sugar screening they do on pregnant ladies around here.&lt;br /&gt;I did not 'pass'. On Monday, I went back to do a two-hour test, one that required fasting beforehand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be considered diabetic, I'd need to be over two of three of the tests on the fasting glucose test. For the fasting state you need to be under 5.3, and I was 4.3. For the draw after one hour, you need to be under 10-someting and I was 11-something. For the two-hour you have to be under 8.9 and I was back at 8.2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flunked the non-fasting by a fair few points too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, it seems to indicate mostly that my body doesn't deal that well with serious sugar consumption. Which I could have told them. Which is why I usually don't eat many sweets because my body doesn't like it. Anyway, I'd rather have salty snacks most of the time anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What this means...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not have to do any insulin stuff. Thank goodness. But I do have to eat a diabetic diet which means no:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;candy, sugar, honey, syrup, ice cream, sweet fruits, etc. etc. etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until after the baby, at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also means I have to do the fasting test again in March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also means they're going to be monitoring me for type 2 diabetes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is patently unfair. Not that these things operate on a fairness scale, but I really tend towards a balanced diet and eat well and don't scarf candy and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. I'm not showing any other symptoms like weight gain or thirst or anything so it's probably just a factor of their stupid test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But too much sugar to the baby causes a whole raft of things. Not diabetes, just like... fatness, and premature deterioration of the placenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is pretty much fired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-3609312861202647253?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/3609312861202647253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=3609312861202647253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3609312861202647253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3609312861202647253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/02/unhappy-week.html' title='Unhappy week.'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-8071913726110785955</id><published>2009-01-23T06:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T06:19:21.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>28 weeks</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was terrible, but a bit of sleep can vastly improve my outlook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still uncomfortable, but have moved my focus to thinking about how good my massage is going to feel this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wearing a hand-me-down t-shirt which has a giant question mark on the tummy. People like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so in love with this baby-fish-alien-creature inside me that I can't even believe it! I mean, I've never even met 'him'! But it's undeniably love, even when he's kicking my kidneys or stretching out my bellybutton. Actually I love that part too... he's so present now, under my skin, with smooth long bits that must be his body and sharp pointy bits that I imagine as feet and knees and elbows, and sometimes the long planes of arms and legs. I can't wait to stop imagining his geography and run my fingers along his skin instead of mine. (Well, I can... he's still so tiny and I want him to get big and strong and fat first.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a panic of nesting and being unbelieving there's only 12 weeks(ish) to go, and horrid frustration like yesterday's where the whole idea of this only getting bigger and heavier for the next three months is terrifying. I am pondering getting a work crew over to my house to paint the damned trim that I didn't paint all summer... because it *bothers* me now, in crazy ways. I want his little room she'll probably not sleep in for months and months to be the dreamy ocean green I have in my head. I want to wash and fold and unfold and refold so many tiny clothes. Some part of me is terrified I won't get it all done, I won't be able to hold the house or myself together until this thing is over...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not scared of labour... (yet?) It seems like something that's a culmination of this whole thing, some work I need to do at the end, but work my body is all ready for. I am reading all sorts of natural birth books, because I'm obsessive like that, and really looking forward to working with my doula...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is a good distraction, though it's hard to focus, especially on my bad days. And work's not great for my body, let's just face it. But I'm still succeeding in getting things done, overall, even if I have to bawl over making stupid mistakes these days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... yesterday I felt horrible and hopeless... today I am just achy and full of anticipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the state of the you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-8071913726110785955?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/8071913726110785955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=8071913726110785955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8071913726110785955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/8071913726110785955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/01/28-weeks.html' title='28 weeks'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5627287597998030357</id><published>2009-01-20T04:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T05:52:53.550-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animal Collective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pre-natal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flash cards'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doula'/><title type='text'>Pre-natal classes</title><content type='html'>I was kind of looking forward to pre-natal classes--there's a ton of stuff I'll bet it would be good to know about babies and what to do with them.&lt;br /&gt;We had our third, roughly two-hour, session last night and Rhia and I in agreement those are six hours of our lives we wish we had back.&lt;br /&gt;Before last night we had the feeling these classes were really aimed at teenagers or others who might not be as ready to become parents as I think we are. But after last night, we're thinking these may actually be classes for people who have never before seen a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SXXV1UwYoHI/AAAAAAAAABU/lPTP5H7fkoU/s1600-h/Octocopter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SXXV1UwYoHI/AAAAAAAAABU/lPTP5H7fkoU/s320/Octocopter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293372049125318770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week (class #2) was on "parenting," or it was supposed to be. It largely consisted of videos, whose message was: you should talk to your partner to avoid conflict. Great (although I don't know how that made the one woman in class who seems to be on her own feel). The one potentially bit of useful information about parenting was that you should not expect more of your developing child than is appropriate for his/her age. Except they didn't attempt to explain what's normal for different stages of development.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe they'll cover that next week in the class on "babies," I thought, puzzling at the order of these classes.&lt;br /&gt;Not really, as it turns out. There was a powerpoint slide on roughly how much and when infants sleep as they age, but that was about all on that subject.&lt;br /&gt;The lowlight of the class came early on when our nurse (I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and pinning the uselessness of all this on their lame materials), broke us into two groups and passed out flash cards that were supposed to help us identify "cues" about when a baby is "engaged" and when baby is "disengaged."&lt;br /&gt;These engaged cues include when the baby looks at you for a long period of time. Or when the baby smiles. The back of these cards had helpful definitions. You'll know the baby is looking at you for a long time if...the baby looks at you for a long time!&lt;br /&gt;And a smile is when "the corners of the mouth turn upwards."&lt;br /&gt;At this point we started to wonder if we had somehow enrolled in an ESL class by accident.&lt;br /&gt;All of us were openly mocking these stupid cards. Unfortunately, our nurse was not picking up on our disengagement cues and allowed this to go on until we had finished all the flash cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had expected this baby class would at least have some basic practical information: how to put on a diaper, perhaps. Nope. How to care for the umbilical stump, what to watch out for. Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was another long video about responding to crying. It noted three situations in which a baby might cry: baby is upset, baby is hurt, baby is sick.&lt;br /&gt;How do you know when baby is sick? I don't know--they didn't tell us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for us, and others we talked to after class, we've been reading books and talking to people who do have helpful information on these and other subjects. Relying on these classes alone, I would have no idea what to do with a baby.&lt;br /&gt;Next week the scheduled topic is breastfeeding. We do plan to breastfeed--well, Rhia does! But at this point we're wondering whether it's worth the bus trip and crappy mall dinner for what's like to prove another infuriatingly useless evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're definitely looking forward to working with Shannon, our doula. We're confident she'll be able to answer questions and help get us ready for birth and taking care of a newborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's inauguration day. I have the day off and I think I'll probably veg out on the couch for much of it to watch this all unfold. I've never been gaga (note babytalk) over Mr. Obama. Sure, he's much better than the alternative, but I don't think he's the flawless superhero many seem to view him as.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I really enjoy seeing how he's inspired people and I think the day will be full of emotion.&lt;br /&gt;It is a historic day. I remember thinking, back in November, that Petey will be born into a world where the president of the United States has always been a black guy. I think that fact, maybe more than Obama himself, will go a long way toward addressing racism, prejudice and disaprity. Hopefully, people like Petey will grow up with a worldview that would see the suggestion that a person's physical or other characteristics might limit his abilities or opportunities or worth, as totally off the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Petey will also grow up in a wrold in which there has always been this Animal Collective album, Merriweather Post Pavillion. And it's pretty great, so that's pretty great too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Image: Painting, "Octocopter," by Lesley-Anne Steeleworthy)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5627287597998030357?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5627287597998030357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5627287597998030357' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5627287597998030357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5627287597998030357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/01/pre-natal-classes.html' title='Pre-natal classes'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SXXV1UwYoHI/AAAAAAAAABU/lPTP5H7fkoU/s72-c/Octocopter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4520634404680117537</id><published>2009-01-17T06:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T06:26:13.808-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petey baby pool'/><title type='text'>Think you know when Petey's coming and what he's like?</title><content type='html'>Come one, come all, place your bets on Wee Pete's vital stats. No fees, no prizes, just good clean fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to : &lt;a href="http://expectnet.com/game.php"&gt;http://expectnet.com/game.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell it you want to play : Peteysday&lt;br /&gt;Make your guesses.&lt;br /&gt;Wait and see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4520634404680117537?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4520634404680117537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4520634404680117537' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4520634404680117537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4520634404680117537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/01/think-you-know-when-peteys-coming-and.html' title='Think you know when Petey&apos;s coming and what he&apos;s like?'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-3311224941033167970</id><published>2009-01-11T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T16:14:31.067-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pre-natal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Star Wars'/><title type='text'>Apocryphal family lore</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b823c29566b86aee" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db823c29566b86aee%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D837AA0A1EC4B44988CFC46DABADD849EA7A9D1A2.4ACCB132C33EEA6E56D2108C0010620AC6A4C1AD%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db823c29566b86aee%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUg7Bs_iIEa9UOs1M7PM6Ns22gHw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db823c29566b86aee%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331202745%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D837AA0A1EC4B44988CFC46DABADD849EA7A9D1A2.4ACCB132C33EEA6E56D2108C0010620AC6A4C1AD%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db823c29566b86aee%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUg7Bs_iIEa9UOs1M7PM6Ns22gHw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, actually none of that's true (you might have guessed this since Petey is still only -3.5 months old, not 60ish) except the part about pineapple-loving being intolerable in a rock and roll band. We were just playing around with our new camera, a Christmas present from the grandparents (and aunt) to-be. (I didn't realize how sensitive the microphone was, or I would have crinkled that chocolate wrapper less.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beginning of The Empire Strikes Back is on TV, which is appropriate since today we are living on the Ice Planet Hoth. This channel has been showing all the Star Wars movies lately. I was thinking the other day how much fun it will be to watch all six episodes in order with Petey (Empire will blow wee Petey away...you must all swear not to spill the beans about the Luke/Darth Vader thing).&lt;br /&gt;When I'm not being a giant dork, I do think about more practical and near-term baby-related things, like all the small little tasks to do in various parts of the house in order to get a nursery ready. And how to be a dad.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SWqI9N1hx1I/AAAAAAAAABM/0pdj7rp6Gwk/s1600-h/IMG_0035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SWqI9N1hx1I/AAAAAAAAABM/0pdj7rp6Gwk/s320/IMG_0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290191297567639378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that part I'm going to learn tomorrow night at pre-natal class, as long as it doesn't fall victim to the storm. I dunno, maybe it's a little more complicated than you can learn on a Monday evening. I started curling lessons last weekend and after two sessions, I'm not yet ready for the Briar.&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, actually, that I don't know what I don't know. That thought is sometimes daunting.&lt;br /&gt;But that's outweighed by sheer anticipatory excitement and the delight of feeling our little pickle kick and swim in his bubble.&lt;br /&gt;And what a beautiful bubble it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not much for New Year's resolutions, but I thought maybe mine should be to post here more regularly.&lt;br /&gt;And no doubt things are going to get a little more hectic and exciting than they are today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-3311224941033167970?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b823c29566b86aee&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/3311224941033167970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=3311224941033167970' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3311224941033167970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3311224941033167970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/01/apocryphal-family-lore.html' title='Apocryphal family lore'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SWqI9N1hx1I/AAAAAAAAABM/0pdj7rp6Gwk/s72-c/IMG_0035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-3647315574064021924</id><published>2009-01-11T12:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T13:02:02.144-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnancy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body'/><title type='text'>26 weeks</title><content type='html'>Woo! The third trimester, by some accounts. Other accounts would have me wait until next Thursday, but who's consulting every source possible anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still feeling overall great, though a little achier and less agile all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own self has become largely subsumed in the belly. I mean, I still have some real conversations at work, and with friends and things, but the first conversation with anyone, anywhere, tends to start about the baby. And I admit I'm fully complicit in it. I feel special, and I like feeling special. But I also sort of feel... not-me... and I guess soon I will have a baby, and then it will be even more so... But that's what people want to talk about. It's fun, I guess. But the world is full of so many things. Ah well. Worse things have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of the legendary pregnancy dreams, though I do keep dreaming that people are buying me extra-large maternity clothes and I have to keep explaining that you buy them based on the size you were before you get pregnant, and they never get it. I guess that means I feel very big. And I do and I don't. I will only get bigger, so I'm not going to fret about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting nesty too. Sometimes I get so absorbed in a cleaning or organizing task that I completely miss bedtime. Need to watch out for that one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like we are going to have a BABY soon. How did that happen?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-3647315574064021924?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/3647315574064021924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=3647315574064021924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3647315574064021924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3647315574064021924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2009/01/26-weeks.html' title='26 weeks'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-7688733854523760618</id><published>2008-12-31T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T08:40:16.677-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><title type='text'>Oh the season!</title><content type='html'>It’s been a silly one - I’ve absolutely no willpower these days and have been gorging myself on sweets and under feeding the baby nutrients, hoping that shooting cans of V8 will make up for the lackadaisical vegetable consumption. But that’s what Christmas is all about, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been working a lot - worked Christmas Eve until noon, then planned to hurry home for a grilled cheese sandwich and some quality time spent making side dishes for the friendly gathering planned for the evening. A flaming transistor on Young Street put an end to that plan, and led to me ordering pizza from Chad’s and eating it in the chilly house. Fortunately, we had electricity again by mid-afternoon, so I was able to get brussels sprouts and sweet potatoes into the oven with plenty of time to spare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We packed them up and hiked down to our friends’ condo, where the turkey was just starting to smell amazing. With cooperation from four couples, a delicious holiday dinner was soon on the table and we popped our crackers, wore our silly hats and laughed the night away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John and I had our little private Christmas Eve when we got home, exchanging ornaments, and reading The Night Before Christmas to the baby. We were abed before it got too late, and slept all snuggled and lovely til Christmas morning came. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t sleep in as long as I would have liked - these days my body doesn’t always cooperate with being a lie-abed. We opened some very sleepy stockings and had a lazy morning anyway. Eggs with faces for breakfast, soft boiled with soldiers. I seem to have imposed all the Perkins family traditions on poor John. I do make sure he gets his eggnog pancakes on Boxing Day if I can, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite some planned scaling back on presents (we bought each other some big ticket items - a Zune for John and emerald earrings [to complete my set!] for me, and then we asked for mostly money towards a new camera from our parents) there was still an overwhelming amount of stuff under the tree! And then just as we’d gathered up all the wrapping paper and were trying to decide whether to eat lunch at home or go to Mum’s and eat there, my sister called from Mum’s and let us know she was on her way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We packed up our presents for them (and the Wii) and were soon on our way, where the overwhelming haul continued, with some truly adorable gifts received all around both trees! Even little Petey found himself with a small haul, including socks and stuffed animals, and John’s old baby kilt. (Cutest thing ever.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the opening finished, we settled ourselves in for a good afternoon of silly party games, consumed another delicious turkey dinner, and watched Love, Actually - quality holiday film or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boxing Day was more lazing around and Wii-ing (my mother is pretty hilarious and not at all bad at Wario) until poor John had to go into work. I puttered about making soup and cookies and chilling out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was sort of a cleaning and shopping and crazy decompression day. John worked the late shift again, so it was sort of weird to be home alone two evenings in a row, but I made up for it by going to bed early. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we got to see Eden! And Michael! And Izzy! And a bunch of other friends who came by for a little party, with punch and all. It was too short a time with one of our favourite little families - we don’t see enough of them now they’re in Ottawa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday I totally couldn’t get out of bed, so I snoozed for an extra hour and skipped lunch. I ended up taking two hours vacation in the afternoon so John and I could do some Boxing Week shopping. We picked up some bits and bobs at Mic Mac, then walked pretty much all of Dartmouth Crossing, completely failing to buy a new camera and not having dinner until quarter to eight. But the Festive Specials made up for it, and it wasn’t ridiculously late. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most exciting part of the whole adventure was the giant bang and shudder of the bus in the middle of Dartmouth. We originally thought we’d been rear-ended, but good, but it actually seemed that one of the radiator pipes had burst. Everyone was piled off the bus and thought they’d be stuck at the stop for half an hour, but they ended up bringing us a replacement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back from the Crossing, we passed the 10 going back to Halifax just as we pulled into Mic Mac - hey Metro Transit, no fair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tonight is New Year’s Eve! The final date in the Season of Delight! (Save Epiphany, which I mostly just use as a day to take down my decorations and stow them for next year.) Note to self: Make Christmas Card list - for real this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know if I’ll make it to midnight or not! I’ll certainly try, but I have strange waves of sleepiness and it’s hard to predict my stamina from one day to the next. I know for sure that we have early-bird dinner reservations for a hopefully glorious feast at Brooklyn Warehouse. I know for sure that there’s also a bottle of dealcoholized pink champagne in my fridge due to guests who are much more refined than we. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in short, I hope all who are reading had a wonderful Christmas and that 2009 is everything you dream of.  Me, I’m just a couple of weeks away from the legendary third trimester, and sooner than we can really imagine, we’ll be three. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, for one, can’t wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-7688733854523760618?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/7688733854523760618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=7688733854523760618' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7688733854523760618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7688733854523760618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/12/oh-season.html' title='Oh the season!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-7896503940682462686</id><published>2008-12-16T06:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T06:18:45.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Preggo update!</title><content type='html'>Petey is a big kicker/wiggler/roller! It is usually very reassuring, but when he starts playing volleyball on my belly button, or pretending my cervix is a soccer ball he's dribbling, it can get a little old. His favourite time to go at it is also typically when I am in meetings or having important conversations. Also bedtime. Sometimes he also stretches really hard, and that... that is not comfortable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Additionally! My belly button is observably shallower, which is kind of cool, but also bizarre, because my uterus just barely comes up that far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, signs and symptoms... hm... some pulling and discomfort in hip-butt-stomach region, nothing serious, this tendancy to see stars if I stand up too fast after picking something up off the ground, occasional mild heartburn (nothing like when I was, what, 16 weeks? I think my stomach must have been pinched then or something), generally I feel pretty damned good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am even sleeping better, for the most part, without benefit of wedge-pillow (which never materialized) or snoogle-thing. If I go to bed feeling like I am sort-of, maybe, hungry then I will regret it, though, as it will translate into uneasy sleep and cereal at 4 a.m., most times. I am not consistently more hungry than I used to be... I mean, when I am hungry, I am HUNGRY and must eat RIGHT NOW (I always have a granola bar. Unless I have just eaten it.) but I can't say I'm consistently getting the extra food I am supposed to need. Then again, it's not like I'm keeping track. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctor's office this afternoon (should have been last Friday, but she rescheduled me) and we'll see if I'm 23 weeks on Friday or was 23 weeks last Saturday... The ultrasound date matches my conception date (I am pretty darned certain about it) and so maybe we'll revise it up. No more than that, though, Petey! I need to finish next semester! My appointment is at 2 and I am trying to decide whether to come back to work or take the rest of the afternoon as vacation... there's a holiday social, but if she's behind, it could be 3 before I'm back. Is it worth it for 1.5 hours, or should I just go home, run errands and bake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clothes are a little frustrating - I like my shape, but I am finding it hard to dress my shape. I do not want to acquire an entire new winter wardrobe, but I think most of my warmer sweaters are going to get too short pretty soon. This is mostly only a problem if I get to a point where even my bigger coat won't button. I am pretty warm these days anyway. I suppose all of this is just a good excuse to go Boxing Day shopping... How handy that the 27th is a Saturday... (Stores in NS are closed on actual Boxing Day.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... that's all I got.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-7896503940682462686?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/7896503940682462686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=7896503940682462686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7896503940682462686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/7896503940682462686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/12/preggo-update.html' title='Preggo update!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-4745380243021920758</id><published>2008-12-13T14:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T14:47:17.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boston Weekend</title><content type='html'>We went to Boston last weekend and it was a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got up at like 5 on Friday in order to get everything together and into a cab by 6 a.m. Delightful friends were cat-sitting, so there were no cat worries, but he still is funny when he senses something's up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The airport was entirely uneventful, well, aside from the part where the strap broke on the bag we were using as a carry-on (whose zipper had already failed on this summer's road trip.) We ended up turfing it and throwing all our stuff into this Trader Joe's reusable shopping bag that I carry around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short flight later and we were on the ground in Boston, where we navigated the shuttle and the T to our hotel, no problems. Was a nice enough room, somewhere to rest your head and not much more. We were directly located between two hospitals though, so there was a lot of siren noise much of the time - it's funny what you can get used to though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rested for a little while, but were starving after several hours on the move, so we ended up grazing on the hot bar at the Whole Foods next to the hotel. From there we wandered our way through Beacon Hill, took a look at State House, and crossed the Boston Common, taking in the Nova Scotia Christmas tree (which they'd lit just the day before.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started poking through the stores after that, waiting to hear from [info]ruthling who was putting in her last few hours before lunch. When we found her we did a whirlwind trip through Faneiul Hall and Quincey Market and right on down to the New England Aquarium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you, ladies and gents, that is a stellar place! A whole schwack of penguins, an exhibit on jellyfish, all kinds of pretty exotic things, and a giant four-story tank with sharks and giant turtles and all kinds of lovely fish. The staff are really passionate and helpful and will come right up and start telling you about the animals as you're watching them. We even got to watch them feeding the penguins!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we took in a bit of the North End where John and R got cannoli and I had a waffly cooky thing, then down town for beer/pop and we all hung out in a downtown crossingish bar until it was time to meet R's husband G. Dinner at Pho Pasteur was super tasty, and then John and I were exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a bath back at the hotel and when I got out and flopped on the bed, Mr. Petey had a hell of a kick party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we got up and headed for Cambridge, where we did a bit of shopping and wandered Harvard. John's cold was making him a bit miserable and cranky, which was wearing off on me, so we eventually came in out of the cold and headed for Newbury street to look for somewhere to lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found the most bizarre restaurant with an identity crisis. Something Joe's. It was sort of dressed up to look like fine dining, but then it had this sort of patriotic theme, with the waiters in American flag ties and everything... and a pretty standard mid-range restaurant sandwiches-pasta-mains menu. Still, I had a peppered burger and it was very tasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wandered Newbury street then, until it was getting cold and dark and we'd reached the other T station. Lots of interesting shops and galleries along there! We sacked out in the hotel room for a while, then went downtown to look for somewhere nice for dinner. After a bunch of wandering in the cold, we ended up at the reasonably-notorious Legal Seafood. It was busy, so we went to the bar to wait for a table, then ended up being convinced to dine right there, which was a very good decision, as the Montreal bartender was a real pro. The food was really very good as well - we even finished off the night with some mocha ice-cream bon bons, and did not regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday dawned pretty snowy, so once we'd Finagle'd a Bagel (these shops have a pretty fancy assembly line, let me tell you!) we headed for the Museums. We looked at both the Gardner and the Fine Arts Museum and thereby killed most of the day. They were both quite the experience! So much amazing art! Had a weird moment in the Gardner where Petey decided to stretch really hard against my tummy while we were in this poky, dim, not very well ventilated gallery of religious artifacts... I had to high-tail it to the next room that looked out over the central courtyard to deal with the lightheadedness that accompanied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some amazing, cheap Mexican food across the street from our hotel for dinner, then a little rest and change before heading back downtown to the Orpheum to see Black Kids and Vampire Weekend. The Orpheum is this Vaudville-era theatre, with high balconies up all kinds of stairs and beautiful architecture around the stage proper, murals, the whole deal. The rest of the building was a little run down, and I must admit that the way the floor swayed when people were dancing did not make me feel very safe. After all the walking we'd done that weekend, the four flights of stairs to our seats were not all that welcome either. Still, it was a pretty amazing show, and the crowd was really, really into it. We had fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday we dedicated mostly to more shopping, heading downtown, along Charles Street and back up to Newbury. It was bitterly cold, though, so after we took refuge in the beautiful public library for a while, we decided we'd be just as well off grabbing a bite at the hotel and heading for the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ran into some people from Church there - on the same flight back. They'd been in Boston with some friends from Ontario. It was kind of cool to chat - they have little girls about 7 and 4, so we've been periodically watching them parent for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had some weird delays back in Halifax because the gate wouldn't attach properly to the plane, but otherwise we got back with little event. We sure were tired when we got here though! And I must admit my hip ligaments haven't been the same since...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-4745380243021920758?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/4745380243021920758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=4745380243021920758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4745380243021920758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/4745380243021920758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/12/boston-weekend.html' title='Boston Weekend'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-3051181238528039641</id><published>2008-12-01T05:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T05:38:28.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just realized there's no belly photos here!</title><content type='html'>This is at 18 weeks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3236/3038276664_2f33ba800d.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3236/3038276664_2f33ba800d.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here we are getting ready for the Masters of Public Administration Ball!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v553/76/121/661730430/n661730430_4902845_7155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 410px; height: 604px;" src="http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v553/76/121/661730430/n661730430_4902845_7155.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-3051181238528039641?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/3051181238528039641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=3051181238528039641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3051181238528039641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3051181238528039641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/12/just-realized-there.html' title='Just realized there&apos;s no belly photos here!'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5677918317655633950</id><published>2008-11-27T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T13:32:59.606-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kicking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ultrasound'/><title type='text'>Ultrasound day</title><content type='html'>Even if I'm not the one with a wiggling baby inside me, it was pretty amazing to see the ultrasound this morning.&lt;br /&gt;There were all Petey's bits and pieces, in the right numbers and in good working order. Hearing that mighty little heart a few weeks back was delightful, but to see it pumping was just spectacular. What purpose and rhythm!&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised at how much he rolled and tumbled. I imagined, when Rhia felt kicks (and I felt one too through her belly last night) that the it was just the baby stretching arms or legs. But this morning he did a lot of rolling with impressive speed.&lt;br /&gt;(And "he" remains a pronoun of convenience--I tried, but I couldn't discern THOSE bits and pieces).&lt;br /&gt;I developed a bit of a cold earlier in the week. No really serious symptoms but it's just sucked all the energy out of me. I stayed home yesterday to get some rest. I headed in to work after the ultrasound this morning but after three hours I was just dead to the world.&lt;br /&gt;So by early afternoon I found myself curled up in a fetal position under the covers and I couldn't help but imagine Petey in his little home.&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking, well, he's a little more squished. But then, I had a 13-pound cat sleeping on top of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow night, we and Petey are going to a Christmas ball. And Saturday, Neil Young and Wilco!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5677918317655633950?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5677918317655633950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5677918317655633950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5677918317655633950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5677918317655633950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/11/ultrasound-day.html' title='Ultrasound day'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6050306425473002585</id><published>2008-11-27T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T09:02:50.432-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultrasound</title><content type='html'>Petey:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; Measures 20 weeks 4 days (by last menstrual period math, he was 19w6d)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Weighs 14oz!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; IS BEAUTIFUL&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     Has such cute toes and arms and legs and fingers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     Has a heart that looks just PERFECT&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     has a three-strand cord&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     and a brain!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     and IS BEAUTIFUL&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     and so wiggly.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     hid his little face away from the scanner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     rolled over and over&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     kicked and stretched and PEED! (though I have to take the ultrasound tech's word for that one)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     is amazing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     has so many parts - like kidneys and a stomach and a bladder!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;     AND IS BEAUTIFUL&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love. As though I weren't before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, last night he was doing his evening rolling around, and then he started whomping me, so I called John up to put his hand on my tummy -- and John thinks he felt him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6050306425473002585?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6050306425473002585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6050306425473002585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6050306425473002585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6050306425473002585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/11/ultrasound.html' title='Ultrasound'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6185076850202652376</id><published>2008-11-13T14:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T14:15:55.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rolls and tumbles</title><content type='html'>Yep - that's definitely my Petey moving in there! Awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6185076850202652376?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6185076850202652376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6185076850202652376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6185076850202652376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6185076850202652376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/11/rolls-and-tumbles.html' title='Rolls and tumbles'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-5168725357145090761</id><published>2008-11-08T15:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T15:43:30.851-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='petey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='month 5'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nesting'/><title type='text'>Nesting - or something like it...</title><content type='html'>Since class is keeping me too busy to do much preparation in the nursery, (December can't come soon enough!) I seem to find myself mostly nesting by shopping the internet (see sidebar.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time I can contain my happy fingers and haven't yet had to resort to keeping my credit card in the freezer. Still, in the past couple of weeks, I've made a few key purchases. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing we know for sure is that we will be using cloth diapers. Fortunately we have several trailblazing friends who've done most of the research for us, so we know which direction we want to go in terms of styles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the beginning, when we'll go through the most, we've decided to go with pre-folds and &lt;a href="http://nurtured.ca/Scripts/prodView.asp?idproduct=166"&gt;snazzy covers&lt;/a&gt;. A little later, though, I think I'll get a beefed up collection of &lt;a href="http://nurtured.ca/Scripts/prodView.asp?idproduct=59"&gt;Fuzzi Bunz.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, once I'd made my decision, that credit card got a workout. Right now, I'm sharing the couch with a double-diapered Stitch doll. (John needed a demonstration.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the tiny clothes I can't help myself from picking up if I end up in a thrift store, or the teeny, tiny Robeez that I got off Kijiji... &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41Nu3a-URCL._SL500_AA280_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41Nu3a-URCL._SL500_AA280_.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's fun, and it will tide me over til the full scale rearranging and decorating can begin! Now if only Ikea weren't being total idiots and refusing to ship the crib I have my heart set on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-5168725357145090761?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/5168725357145090761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=5168725357145090761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5168725357145090761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/5168725357145090761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/11/nesting-or-something-like-it.html' title='Nesting - or something like it...'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-6522073640804421261</id><published>2008-11-02T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T16:59:28.150-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='names'/><title type='text'>Ageless Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v355/228/47/517583162/n517583162_1058903_8683.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 372px;" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v355/228/47/517583162/n517583162_1058903_8683.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we took Petey* to his first rock show. We saw Stars at the Marquee. It had been a pretty social weekend, with two Halloween parties on Friday and a Wardroom birthday party at King's earlier that evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So being slightly partied out and, hey, pregnant, we hung out way in the back at a table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wondered what Petey might think of it all--how did those gut-rumbling bass notes sound and feel in his little pool? He has functioning ears, according to the various sites and books we've been reading.&lt;br /&gt;We didn't get any definitive reaction from Petey. We had a good night though, even if we were out past our bedtimes for the second straight night. The band seemed to hit all our favourite songs from each album including Ageless Beauty right near the middle of the set.&lt;br /&gt;At this stage I sometimes jokingly think of Petey as being, say, -6 months old. But maybe Petey's just ageless, and certainly beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's us in our costumes up there. I was an octopus and Rhia the deep ocean. This particular pic (by Jen Laurette) doesn't show them off very well, but I think we look pretty darn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A note on terminology: "Petey" is a long-running in-joke in our household. A name for the goat, budgie, platypus, etc. we have in an imaginary menagerie. (Don't let Rhia know I told you this, but it's after Peter Mansbridge, her newsman crush.) So, it's kind of like the Warner Brothers' monster (a la Steinbeck) who says, "I will hug him and squeeze him and call him George." In thes early weeks of pregnancy, whatever's swimming around in there has seemed pretty imaginary, so it's become Petey too. We often refer to Petey as a "he" but that doesn't mean anything. We don't know and we have no preference. Just shorthand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-6522073640804421261?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/6522073640804421261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=6522073640804421261' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6522073640804421261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/6522073640804421261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/11/ageless-beauty.html' title='Ageless Beauty'/><author><name>John</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_axahuA8fMXM/SefREMz4WcI/AAAAAAAAABw/92zKlepwM4o/S220/owen+alexander+017.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-3388824370124683164</id><published>2008-10-29T10:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T10:46:38.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello World</title><content type='html'>A family blog?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5528760105571506951-3388824370124683164?l=housefullofpickles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/feeds/3388824370124683164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5528760105571506951&amp;postID=3388824370124683164' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3388824370124683164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5528760105571506951/posts/default/3388824370124683164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com/2008/10/hello-world.html' title='Hello World'/><author><name>Rhia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
