tx and emails

Remember this pic? It's amazing what a year and 3 months can bring.

Texas has welcomed us with open arms and amazing weather. Today the blinds are drawn and the back door is open to let the beautiful sunshine in. A few flies, too, actually. But nothing is deterring me from loving this Texas spring.

So first and foremost I would like to give El Paso a shout-out for it's short-sleeves and flip-flops.

Secondly, I'd like share with you a little snapshot of life here for Karen and Eli. I wasn't able to talk to Jim for a few days last week so as I was missing him something terrible, I sat down to type and email. I thought I'd share some of it with you:

so, things i've wanted to tell you the last few days...

• Eli is by far the cutest little boy in the world. i love his puffy i-just-woke-up eyes and the way he melts into me when i first pick him up after a nap.
• except when i have to see those eyes at 4:30 in the morning. like this morning. and a few others this week.
• poor little guy is teething like crazy. drool galor. i got some Hylands teething tablets (thankfully endorced by Julie H.) and i'm not sure how well they help but at least i feel like i'm doing something for him. he sounds so pathetic with his wimpering.
  
• Eli had his first playdate yesterday. apparently there's a standing invitation to all those in the neighborhood to meet at the playground at 10am on Mondays.
• i love living on post.
• and Eli loves the swing. he's still a little small for it, but he was happy to gnaw on the plastic seat all the same.
• i'm still kicking myself for forgetting my camera. it was a beautiful El Paso first day of March. it was worthy of being documented and i failed. thankfully there's always next Monday.
• remember how he didn't like carrots the other day? well, i've stealthfully hidden them in rice cereal and applesauce which works like a charm. and his poop is now sprinkled with orange confetti.
• oh, and Eli had his first baby-sitter last night! he and she did great. Issi is Lisa's daughter and lives close enough to walk here, making things much easier. it was only for a few hours but he was peacefully sleeping when i got home from Bunco night.
• until i decided to check on him and thought he was so cute laying face-up and spread eagle in the crib that i ended up waking him up. BIG mistake. he screamed bloody murder for most of an hour until I finally gave up and nursed him to sleep. BabyWise would be so disappointed in me.
• lesson of the evening: let sleeping babies lie.
• in other news... it's so dry here that sometimes when i go to pet Roxy, i shock her and she doesn't want to come near me for a while. i always feel so bad.

So we're all doing well here. Except for a little teething. And some desert air.

happy Wednesday, everyone

Next he's going to want a tattoo. I'm not even ready for this.

to you and yours

As I was enjoying some quality son time a moment ago, the funniest and most predictable thing happened.

He was naked and cute and "airing out". I hear that's good for babies. I was looking into his blue eyes and just loving every ounce of him. And loving our family, as spread out as we are.

And then I got wet.

Thankfully I have some quick reflexes. And a handily placed diaper. But we will now be doing a load of wash that consists of
a full-sized blanket
a pair of yoga pants
a sock
a rabbit toy.

I hope your new year is full of happy family moments, as interrupted as they may be.

Army-Navy game

I know I owe you all many updates on the happenings of the Grube home, including a 5-day cross-country trip that landed Eli, Roxy and I in Maryland for a few months. But Saturday was a big day. So I need to share.

I grew up in a Navy family. A family that holds the most important day of the year as the Army-Navy game, the biggest football rivalry in the world. Or at least that's what I was led to believe growing up. This year as no exception.

Maybe....

First I must explain. Being from a Navy family and rooting for Navy all my life means that switching teams would be a hard thing. But I'm now married to the Army, so what do I do?

Well, according to my dad it's easy. Because he and Jim made an agreement back in 2003 when Jim asked for my hand. At least this is how the story goes...

I could marry Jim if I root for Navy until I've been Army longer than I've been Navy.

So if I was married at 26, I can root for Navy until I'm 52. Then I have to switch sides. That'll be in 2030.

Did you follow that? Jim often reminds me that I'm allowed to change allegiance anytime before that. And I think I've already started to cave, actually. But don't tell my dad. Besides, it's not my fault. This little guy might have convinced me.


Because Jim has made me promise to never put Eli in Navy garb.

Ever.

So while we all piled into my parents' living room to watch the game on Saturday, everyone wore Navy shirts except for one. And he was the cutest of all.

eli the gnome

Isn't he the cutest thing you ever did see?

And his mischievous cousin Asher, too!

all in the family

Remember that bingo picture?

And remember that really cute kid of mine?
Think we're related?

God bless family

This post is a shout-out to Mom & Dad, Scott and Crystal, Rick & Caroline. Of course, they will now forever be known as Nana & Pop, Aunt & Uncle, Grammy & Granddad.

It's funny how nine months and a day of pain can change so much.

Not to mention how the once proudly independent and extremely capable Karen can turn into a sleep-deprived, insecure mess of hormones, second-guessing herself at every turn... Thank God for people who love me despite myself.

Nana & Pop

My mom came early intending to help out before and after Eli arrived. Only he was taking forever so she had to extend her stay or else she would have almost missed him. (She even got to witness the whole Muppets episode.) We had a great time anticipating his arrival to include shopping, a pedicure, swimming, catching a movie, and all around being girls. Unfortunately this meant that she was only able to overlap with Eli a few days instead of the hoped-for few weeks. Dad flew in for the weekend and barely let anyone else hold Eli the entire time. When we met him at the airport, he was smitten from the start and waited way too many minutes to kiss my mom because he was, um, distracted by a cute little bundle of joy. I think he's still living that down.

My mom was a huge help around the house. It was because of her I discovered my hidden love language: if you clean my kitchen then I am the happiest, most grateful girl in the world, no matter how few hours of sleep I've gotten. She kept things spic-and-span which made my view from the couch delightfully stress-free. Thanks, mom!

Aunt Crystal & Uncle Scott

I love that Scott and Crystal (of Circus fame) flew 2000 miles just to meet the newest member of the family. Since they came kid-less, it was a rare treat to hang as just adults. And what do adults do when the children are gone? They play. More specifically, they play Wii. Rock Band was a weekend favorite. Who knew my brother had such a gifting at the drums? And as it turns out, I still have the middle-school touch and clobbered Scott time after time at Dr. Mario. (You can't deny it, Scott. You know it's true.) Lest you think Eli was forgotten in the shuffle... he was more than content to watch us compete. Mostly because it meant we'd finally put the camera down and his eyes had a rest from all the props and flashing.

Caroline & Rick

By the time Rick and Caroline arrived, I was feeling better physically, and a little more confident in my mothering. Unfortunately Eli was entering his fussy stage, and Jim had returned back to work. Both left me feeling overwhelmed at times. But that made having extra hands around that much more appreciated. Caroline was a great help, especially into the late hours. She did her fair share of cleaning my kitchen, too. (Seriously, I love these people!) During the day, we dared venture out into the world again and enjoyed some shopping and eating out. When we weren't doing that, we watched many of Rick's favorites: football, The Cosby Show and Walker Texas Ranger. The latter only seemed appropriate since we now share residency with Chuck Norris in his favorite state, and all.

Gratefully, they we here after Jim left for a month so I wasn't by myself. But after their two week visit, they had to go back to east coast along with the rest of them. It was a wonderful month with family. And I'm not just typing that because I know all of the above read my blog. Many here warned against having too much family come and the added stresses that could bring when so much change was about. In hindsight, though, I can't say there's really too much I would have done differently. The help was great, and so was the company.

I am truly blessed with a wonderful family, both my own and the one I got to marry into. Besides, I haven't done the dishes for six weeks. Or made dinner for that matter.

Anyone who can put off reality for a month or two is blessed indeed.

birthing: d-day

Thank you for your patience. You deserve a pat on the back. I'm totally holding on to the I-have-a-new-baby excuse, and throwing in a lot of I-have-tons-of-family-visiting too hoping you'll let me off the hook a little. It is true that I thought I'd have more time than I do now that Eli's here. (I'm guessing all mothers out there just snickered a little.) Enjoy the next installment of Birthing Eli, though I warn you it might not be as entertaining as the muppets.

As an aside: I suspect Eve is one of the few enrolled in heaven's Witness Protection Program. If not and I can find her up there, I have a few choice words to share. Beginning with, "I hope that was a darn good apple..."

So I left you at 5 centimeters.

We made it to the hospital, heard the wonderful words that admitted us to Labor & Delivery. By 4:30am I had my epidural. By 5:30am they broke my water.

But back to the epidural. When they asked I said, "Yes!" and they sent the nice anesthetist in. Dr. Talks Way Too Much wheeled in his cart and I promised myself I wouldn't open my eyes until it was all over. But he took forever and talked me through the whole thing. Which I didn't really want. I even interrupted him at one point to say,

"By the way, I should mention that I used to teach high school science. And when I got to the back part of anatomy, I skipped the spinal cord entirely. I'm not a fan. In fact, the spinal cord in general creeps me out."

He didn't take the hint. He continued to talk and even mentioned something about "two holes" but he didn't say Oops so I didn't realize he'd made a mistake at first. I still haven't looked at my back in case the two holes are still there. It gives me the heebie jeebies to think about it.

Shortly after they took the ginormous crochet hook to break my water, one of the nurses was encouraged by my progress and said she thought we'd be having lunch with our new baby. Silly nurse. Noon came and went. Every two hours or so they'd check what they check and the eternal day continued. It was slow going. We looked at magazines. We watched the whole first season of The Cosby Show. Jim played lots of computer games. And I took lots of naps, thanks to the epidural.

Dinnertime came and went, too. Speaking of food, I was really hungry. I found myself dreaming of a big bowl of spaghetti. Why spaghetti? Who can say. But I wanted it and I wanted it bad. Jim was so sweet. Every time he left to get food he just kinda pretended he needed to stretch his legs or something. He felt so bad that he could eat and I couldn't. My mom was also sweet. She'd come in from the waiting room to keep me company and feed me ice chips. It wasn't spagethetti, but at lest I didn't puke later.

Fast forward... 17 hours and two nurse rotations after being admitted, Dr. Brown finally gave me the ok to push. As I did I was convinced every blood vessel in my face was going to pop. And a few did (see picture above) but over all we did alright. Jim was a great coach and counted me through every contraction. I even remember asking him if he'd remembered to ask his co-worker if his wife still wanted to sell me her breast pump. Jim just looked at me funny, said something about "guys don't talk about that stuff" and we were on to the next contraction.

Exactly one hour later, Eli was born with his full head of hair. And his bloody, gooky self was beautiful. And I just stared at him. And I loved him.

birthing: day -1

This post could also be titled The Night Karen Turned Into a Crazy Lady.

As I alluded to before, labor wasn't an easy task for me. Five days before he was born, the contractions began. They came fast and hard. But not fast enough. So we waited. They usually showed up at night and I had my trusty yoga ball to bounce the pain away. But after the fourth night I was tired and beat. And I'd already decided the epidural was a must.

On Monday I was at the commissary with my mom and barely made it through the line and back to the car. It wasn't that I was having contractions, but my back hurt, my stomach was heavy, and walking was difficult. So I decided I'd go into Labor & Delivery when Jim got home, contractions or not, and hope for that magic number: four centimeters. If I was four centimeters, they couldn't send me home.

But I wasn't. I was only three. So I cried. I couldn't imagine another night tethered to my yoga ball and a clock, counting in pain but to no avail. Gratefully the tears made Bad Bedside Manners Midwife and her trusty Doesn't Say Much Nurse soften a bit and they discussed sending me home with a sleeping pill.

I initially protested, but Jim was for it from the beginning. He'd taken Ambien before and thought it was great stuff. So down to the pharmacy we went. When the nice guy behind the window handed me the bag, he had a look of concern and gave me this warning: "When you take this, be in bed ready to fall asleep. Don't read a book, don't mow the lawn. You can out-think this medication and it'll really mess you up."

Jim's response: "Don't worry, I'll get my other 9 months pregnant wife to mow the lawn at 9:00 at night." The guy just kinda looked at him.

Back home we went, Ambien in hand, the promise of a peaceful night before us. Or so we thought. (This is where the muppets come in. I'm sure you were starting to wonder.)

By 9:30pm the pill was in my tummy and my eyes were closed. Unfortunately the next thing I remember is having to go to the bathroom, stumbling in the dark, surrounded by muppets - by the hundreds. Now it should be said that I don't like muppets the way some people don't like clowns. They are scary little monsters wrapped in fur. And they were everywhere. If I opened my eyes they were gone. But I'd taken a sleeping pill, people. My eyelids felt like bricks.

As I stumbled, I felt Jim and could tell he was a little concerned. His wife had clearly flipped her lid, and he was the one who talked her into it. And I think I can say with confidence that he didn't leave my side the rest of the night. Because every time I opened my eyes, there he was telling me to relax. And I'd feel better.

Pretty soon the contractions began again and this is my memory of the night (I'm not making this up, it's 100% true). I'm imagining this is what LSD must be like.

With every contraction, a muppet would hand me something that I had to give to Jim. But to get it to him I'd have to bounce on the ball. And I could tell how hard the contraction would be based on what they gave me. Once I distinctly remember being handed a belt and telling Jim not to worry, "this one won't be bad because the belt was small." So I rolled onto the ball, bounced away and the belt disappeared. I assume it went to Jim.

The next one was a doozy, though. And I knew it would be because I somehow turned into a muppet. I remember that vividly and could even draw it out for you if I wasn't so artistically challenged. So my big bottomed muppet self rolled onto the ball and, well, the details are a little sketchy after that point. But somehow the muppet was given to Jim.

All the while I remember Jim saying over and over again, Relax. And then at one point he said something about needing two more good contractions. I was aware enough to realize that meant something and asked, Why two? He said that for the last three hours I'd been contracting pretty steadily. The first two hours at 4 minutes apart, and the last one at 3 minutes apart. If it keeps up, we should go to the hospital. At that point it was 3:30am on Tuesday morning.

Somehow I was able to put together that my husband had been by my side for the last 6 hours with his watch, coaching me through contractions. He walked me to the bathroom everytime I had to go, which felt like every 10 minutes. And whenever I realized he was there, I felt safe. Seriously, this man deserves Husband of the Year.

After my two contractions we woke my mom, told her she had 5 minutes to get ready, and we were out the door.

Once we got to the hospital, we heard the magic words: I was 5 centimeters.

These are some quotes from the evening as told to me by Jim (since I don't recall alot):

• "I'm worried because there are at least 100,000 people and only 50,000 subways." (We're assuming by people, I meant muppets. Scary muppets.)
  
• "Ok, right now I need to focus on contractions, ... (something else) ..., and sleeping." To which Jim replied, "No, the thing you need to do is relax and go to bed." To which I replied, "Ok, first priority: relaxing. Second priority: sleeping."
• And then the thing about the belt.

Our take-away from the evening: Karen will never take Ambien again, pregnant or not. Even though there are 9 pills in the bottle. I think I'll donate them to charity.

Next up: Eli's birth day.

Elijah Dale

Thank you for all of your sweet comments on the announcement of our little guy. We have been loving all over him the last week and I can't get enough. He is so handsome and charming and cuddly and his head smells so good. I've decided this is my favorite stage so far.

In between nursing and sleeping and nursing and sleeping, I've been writing numerous blog posts in my head. Unfortunately I haven't had the chance to get to the computer until now. I have not been purposely absent, just really tired.

Many of you have commented on his name and I'm so glad you love it as much as I do.

Elijah means "the Lord is my God". A truth I pray he will someday know for himself. Or he could reign down fire from heaven. Both would be fine by me.

Dale is my grandfather on my dad's side. I had the honor of living with him and my Nana for a few years. In that time we developed a unique relationship as granddaughter and grandpa that I'll never forget. Sadly he passed away last year, but he's with our Lord and I know I'll get to hang out with him again someday. We'll probably play a game a Cribbage together. I can't wait. It makes me tear up thinking about it.

And now for pictures! You may have seen some of these on Facebook, so I'm sorry for the repeats. But these are some of my favorites.

When we brought him home, Jim thought he should have a picture with a gnome. Why not.

This is when Roxy met Eli. Since then she's been pretty disinterested.

G is for Grube!

Such studs. Aren't they hot?

This picture cracks me up every time. Note the grub onesie.

This is my favorite expression. He can be such a pouty-face.

I'll be telling the birth story in segments, as many of you have asked. Starting tomorrow, I hope!

The Little Grublet is Born!

Hi everyone! Karen has been a little busy, so she asked me to post the BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT! Yes, that's right - the long awaited little Grublet has been born and he has a name and especially chubby cheeks and lots of hair!
Details:
Elijah Dale Grube
8 lbs, 2 oz, and 21 inches.
DOB: August 11, 2009 at 9:20 PM



I'm sure she'll post more photos and the whole story soon. There were lots of interesting and humorous details that will be much better told in Stella style prose.

Congratulations Grube family!!!

Over and out,
Kerri Smith