A post only a grandmother would love...

I don't know what it is about grandmothers, but, when it comes to their little grandbabies, even the most mundane things become cause for celebration. Or at least a proud smile.

Grandbaby has a dirty diaper? "WOW! Look at that! She did such a good job with this one!"

Grandbaby lays on the ground and does absolutely nothing? "Look at her. She is SO advanced for her age. Must be my genes coming through..."

The following video is in that vein... For some reason I can't email it to my mom - the only person in the world who will find it interesting - so I'm posting it here. Please do not feel obligated to click 'play' as even I (the mother) find it dull:

Note: All the poking and prodding and pinching is me trying to get her to smile and capture her in all her cute, stretchy morning glory. Instead, she just sort of squirmed around and sneezed. Ah well. She's still sort of adorable. Wouldn't you agree, grandma?

#1 Cousin

Unfortunately, I don't have any cute pictures of Babycakes to post today as she simply would not sit still for any photo taking this morning. All she wanted to do was wiggle and stretch. Wiggle and stretch. When I first woke her up, she scrunched up her legs, arched her back, shot her itty bitt fists in the air and made tiny high pitched squeals like the air going out of a balloon. The cuteness was just too quick for my little iPhone.

(I really need to get the video camera out in the mornings, it's the sort of thing that needs to be remembered. One of those everyday moments that deserves capturing. The good stuff.)

Anyway. With no fresh Babycakes photos to post, I have no choice but to share a picture of her favorite person. She goes by many names – though you would be foolish to think you could use any old one at any time. These names are not interchangeable. And they are not bestowed at your whim. No, no. She will tell you which name the situation requires. For example, if she is pretending to be a dog and would like you to pet her or play fetch, her name is "Jordan Puppy." Or, if she is pretending to be a princess, she is "Jordan Princess." On several occasions we tried to explain that she could switch things around and be Princess Jordan, but that was shot down. It seems that once she comes up with a name, that is THE name. No alterations allowed.

While at home, I had a fun time learning all of her names and even helping her come up with new ones (I claim credit for Secret Agent Jordan – both for getting her to play secret agent games and to put the relevant title in front of “Jordan”). However, my favorite name was the one she gave herself when Babycakes arrived… “#1 Cousin.”

So, without further adieu, here is #1 Cousin (I dare you not to smile at her cuteness):

#1 Cousin

Wait. What? You want HOW much for that?

When I flew back home for my maternity leave in November, I was concerned that I had overpacked. When forced to answer "2" in response to the question, "How many bags will you be checking," I felt like my credibility as a seasoned traveler was shot. The mantra of the experienced traveler is 'pack light' and here I was - a solo traveler (Lou had flown back to the U.S. 3 weeks prior) with 2 bulging full size suitcases, 1 just-at-the-size-limit rolling carry-on and a fully stocked purse that was larger than the luggage of two Asian businessmen combined.

So. Embarassing.

(sidenote: the fact that I had to pack for 15 weeks and two different body types - my 3rd trimester self and my (hopefully!) much smaller post-baby self  - was of little consequence. I've seen people fit everything they need for a 6 month round the world trip in one large backpack. Granted, their definition of "clean" may be a bit suspect, but that's neither here nor there. Your status as a traveler is measured by the volume of your belongings, not your level of hygiene..)

Little did I know that at that point, the days of travelling light were behind me. Like, way behind. Way, way behind.

This was Lou and I at the Pittsburgh airport the day we flew back to Belgium:



Lou + Me + our 10 items. Missing: Car seat, car seat base and BABYCAKES.


Now, given my reluctance to overpack, one might ask why we needed to check/carry-on a total of 12 items. Surely they have stores in Belgium? Did we really have to bring the contents of the local Babies R' Us with us?

Short answer: Yes. And YES.

You see, while there are plenty of baby stores over here, few are within our price range. Or, to be more fair, a range we find reasonable. I don't know why things are more expensive here, they simply are. Perhaps it's because most women receive expert prenatal care for FREE. And stay in the hospital a minimum of 4 nights post-delivery for FREE. And children's check-ups are FREE. And top-notch daycare is not only affordable but comes with tax-deductions. And Belgian employees get special vouchers for FREE house cleaning for the first four months after delivery. And every mother is guaranteed 12 weeks of paid time off.

I suppose the baby products industry took one look at this setup and thought "well, they are getting a free ride everywhere else, maybe they won't notice if we gouge 'em here!"

How big is the difference? Well, take a look at the cost of a "Baby Bjorn," everyone's favorite baby carrier:

Baby's R Us sells it for $129.99. However, if you have time to do a bit of comparison shopping and order online, Amazon.com sells it for $99.94 - and that's with shipping.

Meanwhile, the exact same item is on my friend's baby registry at Baby 2000 (http://www.baby2000.be/), the store that I am told is the Belgian equivalent of "Baby's R Us" for the low, low price of 113 Euros! If I were to buy that with my Capital One credit card and it's competitive exchange rate of $1.335USD to 1 EUR , that would be $150.88!! Nearly $50 more than Amazon. That's an upcharge of 33%.

 "So? Shop somewhere else" you say.  I've asked around. There is nowhere else. At least, no where cheaper. Not unless you want to start looking at second hand stores such as http://www.troc.com/ which are fine but incredibly hit or miss.

"Okay... well, what's $50?" you respond. And you're right. $50 isn't a big deal on it's own. But the extra $10 here and $50 there start to add up. I'm of the opinion that babies don't NEED much besides love and attention, however, one would be advised to stock up on diapers and invest in a car seat and perhaps a safe place to sleep. It's also considered good form to clothe the little munchkins. And, since they grow like weeds, it can be daunting when a sleeper at the local shops varies in price from 10 euros (ok, fine) to 40 euros (what the what??).
I guess what I'm saying is that even for the most frugal of parents, babies are expensive in Belgium. So, in an effort to avoid spending the entirety of last month's pay on outfitting Babycakes (and the apartment) for her arrival in Belgium, we brought as much as we could with us from the U.S. A suitcase and a half were filled with diapers, receiving blankets clothes in sizes newborn to 9 months and bottles. On top of that we brought a "Pack n' Play" (savings of $150 right there), a car seat (savings of approx. $50) and a stroller (savings of lots of dollars as our model isn't sold in Belgium).

I'm not sure how much we saved - particularly since we received nearly all of the items as gifts or hand-me-downs - however, I'm confident it was oodles and oodles of dollars. At least, that's what I kept telling myself (and everyone within earshot) as we struggled through the airport with our 13 bags...

Bear with me

As you can see, I'm playing around with the format of this blog a bit. I have been following lou's brother's blog - http://www.georgeandsam.com/ - and wanted this to be as pretty as theirs. A homepage where you see pictures first and words second. I mean, at some point in the very near future we are going to get our act together and start taking photos of Babycakes from a proper camera and not my iphone. Which means we'll have lots of lovely images to share. (Looking at them will be far more fun than my run on sentences.)

Anyways, I haven't worked out the kinks yet - clearly - so pleae bear with me while I do.

In exchange, I'll show you some more cute pictures of Chubby cheeks - from before and after she earned the nickname.

sidenote: How CRAZY is it that a baby's looks change SO much in such a short time?? If I didn't know any better, I'd think the first two photos (from when she was exactly 1 week old) to the last two (taken when she was just over 2 months old) were of different kids.

Babies. Such strange, strange creatures.

I know I look different, but I'm still me, mommy! I swear!

Hehe. I'm still me. Just with 90% more cheek.



Lazy Leuven Weekend

Although a bit late to the "spring has sprung" party, Belgium decided to get its act together and sported the trifecta this weekend: warm(ish) temperatures, sun and zero precipitation. Amazing! Seeing as how we had little that "HAD" to be done, we made the most of all the pleasantness with two days of picnics, 'terrasking' and relaxing.

Saturday we left the house at the crack of 2pm (Babycakes slept on and off all morning so we did too) and hit up the shops in Leuven. First, we stopped at "Elsen Kaasambacht" for a a few pieces of cheese. According to one of our friends, this place is famous around Belgium for its fine cheeses. I don't know whether that's true or not, but I can vouch for it having a large selection and really helpful staff. Since I barely know the difference between parmesan and gouda, I genuinely appreciate being able to ask the staff for help without feeling like a bother. Usually, I just describe the type of cheese I'm looking for in broad terms - "creamy and bold" or "like blue cheese but lighter" - and they'll give me samples until I hit on just the right one. Which is pretty great. Until you end up at the checkout with 30 euros of cheese because all of the samples were amazing...

Elsen Kaasambacht (Source: Telegraph)

We picked up some fresh bread at Elsen to go with our two slices of 'sharp and hard' cheese (just two! I was so good!) and then mosied on over to the little grocery store for some juice and beer (what's a picnic without refreshments?). From there we checked out the other Saturday market stalls for jam, nuts and apples and, by the time we made it to the park, discovered that we had assembled a mini feast for ourselves. Fortunately, a friend joined us so we weren't tempted to eat everything on our own and the next hour or two were spent hanging out and people watching while Babycakes napped in her stroller. A lovely time was had by all... (until Babycakes woke up and decided she needed a change of scenery. And a bottle. pronto)



On the left: Babycakes enjoying the picnic.
On the right: (Hopefully) a future version of us

 After all the excitement of Saturday (after our exhausting picnic, we had a few drinks with friends at our place. Lou hung out with them until 1:30am or so but baby and I were asleep by 10:30), we decided to take it easy on Sunday. I did some cleaning and then took a nap with the baby while Lou did some "terrasking" (sitting on a terrace in the sun) with friends in the Oude Markt.

A view of the Oude Markt from Lou's "terrasking" spot

Meanwhile, Babycakes and I took a nap. I totally won the 'best way to spend the afternoon' contest.

Now, lest you think I spent the whole weekend eating or napping, please note that I did get crazy Sunday night. At the just-past-senior-citizens-dinner-hour of 6:30, I met up with my friend Devan for some Greek food followed by an 8:15pm showing of the Hunger Games! I was out til almost 11pm! On a work night! Who says things get lame when you have kids?

Anyways, that was our lazy - yet perfect - Leuven weekend. Hope yours was equally enjoyable!

La Creche aka Kinderopvgang aka Daycare

Now that I am back at work we are slowly settling into a routine. It's only been two weeks and I don't think we've done the same thing more than 2 days in a row, but whatever, we are making an effort.

An integral part of this tenuous new routine is "la creche." (Also known as a "Kinderopvgang" in Dutch or "Daycare" in American.) Babycakes' creche is a warm, wonderful little place run by a caring woman named Catherine. I've seen her with the kids in her charge first thing in the morning, mid-afternoon and late at night, and, regardless of the time of day, she seems to genuinely care about all of them. Even the sticky, snotty ones. Suffice to say we are thrilled with the place and consider ourselves pretty lucky to have snagged a spot.

First sign that the place was filled with professionals - they got her to sleep in a crib! A CRIB!
(note: this is remarkable b/c I can only get her to sleep in her car seat, bouncy chair or my arms...)

Speaking of 'spots' and creches, I don't think I ever told the story of our search for one. Like everything we do that is even a little bit important, it was a disaster from the start and deserves documentation here. (If only for the chance to put it in the"Annoying Things We Did For You" file and guilt-trip Babycakes in the future...)

So. Babies. Creches. Where to start? Well. When we first discovered we were pregnant (circa April of last year), we knew we would need daycare eventually, but it was more of a fleeting thought than an item for the immediate "to-do" list. Much higher on the list were items such as "figure out where you are having the baby" and "wrap your head around the idea of having a baby." What to do with said baby just wasn't a priority.

Enter June. We announced the pregnancy to the world at large and, amongst our Belgian friends, the very first question asked was, "Which creche will the baby go to?"

"Erm. Do you mean, 'Is the baby going to go to a creche?'"

"No. Which one. Surely you already have a spot?"

"Erm. No."

Cue look of horror. And pity.

You see, the universally known (except by us)  fact of life in Leuven is that creche spots fill up like woah. In fact, most couples put themselves on waiting lists when they first start trying to have children.

So, as per usual, we were way behind. I reacted to this news by contacting the creches in Leuven that were nearest our apartment. Not only were they full when we anticipated needing childcare (March 2012), but they couldn't guarantee an opening in 2012. Not one. For 18 months from the date of my inquiry. Not one freaking spot!

For obvious reasons, this stressed me out. While other pregnant women were nesting, I was busy calling and emailing every daycare on the Leuven child care site. Waitlisted. Times 48. (And that's not an exaggeration. When I was really nervous I would count them...) The earliest spot available would be September 2012. Better than 2013, but still not helpful considering I needed to go back to work in March.

So, I stressed some more. And expanded my search. I contacted all of the creches within a 20 minute drive of my work. Again with the waitlists. Except this time half of them were in French instead of Dutch.

Just as I was starting to really panic and consider looking into a private nanny (who might have cost more per month than I made...), we finally got some good news. On August 23rd, after nearly 3 months of nonstop searching, we received an email saying, "yes, we have availability for March." I all but ran to the place at that moment to reserve the spot, but then it hit me...

Why does this place have an opening? Is there something wrong with it?

If every place in the whole country was filled for the next year, why did this place have an opening at precisely the time we need one? We were torn between utter relief and guilt. Guilt that we would be forced to put our future baby in a place SO terrible it's waiting list was only 6 months long.

We were idiots. (though, in our defense, I'm starting to believe that's just another word for first-time parents...)

We visited the creche after work and could not have been more pleased. In our opinion, its highlights included:
- The facility isn't super large, but it's very well maintained with bright, hand painted murals covering the walls.
- They serve warm, homemade meals for lunch every day (for children that are eating solid foods)
- They let you bring in bottles for babies (something that not all creches do that is ideal if you are breastfeeding)
- Of the four employees, three have nursing degrees
- They provide unlimited diapers for just 20 euros per month (a very good deal in Belgium)

Most of all it was just a really warm place. It's obviously no substitute for staying at grandma's house, but, since the transport costs with that were a bit prohibitive, it really is the next best thing.

Babycakes went 3 days last week and every day this week and I've been very pleased with the whole thing. When I drop her off in the morning, she is like a rockstar. The ladies that work there scream "Aria!! Arrrriiiiia" and rush to hold her. When I pick her up in the evening, Catherine tells me about the number of times she smiled at her (3 the first day, a dozen yesterday) and whose arms she fell asleep in for her afternoon nap.

I know I'm supposed to feel overwhelming "mommy guilt" for leaving her and going to work, but it's just going so well I haven't gotten around to it. She is entertained and held and fussed over and cared for and... at this age... I think that is all that matters. In the meantime, I am able to contribute to putting a roof over her head and clothes on her chubby little body.  Ah well. Should we ever settle into a proper routine, perhaps I will work some "mommy guilt" into that...

You mean you aren't going to stay home and play with me all day?? My shirt says you love me. Don't you love me??



Meh. I'm over it. Now let me go back to sleep.



A Case of the Mondays: Infant Edition



Woohoo! I Love Mondays!! Weeee!

This is a snapshot of Baybcakes all dressed for the creche (i.e. Eurospeak for "daycare").

Don't you wish you were this psyched at 7:30am? On a Monday?

Me too.

No returns, no exchanges.

Lookie what I found while shopping at Ikea:

In case you were curious, the answer is "yes." Yes, she IS smuggling items out in her cheeks...

When do I go back to work again?

My maternity leave ends next Monday. And although it will be tough to leave babycakes, it may be best for everyone that I return to work as this whole domestic thing is not going quite as planned...

Please observe the events of yesterday:

"This swing is amazing! It makes me so happy! Let's dance!"

"Oh. Wait a second. Did you just hear something? From the laundry room?"

Pictured: Bath/Laundry room. Please note the reflection of the dresser in the floor.

"Hehehe. Is that what I think it is?"

Did you think it was a bathroom floor covered in water due to the wash machine not draining properly?
Then you would be correct.

"Hehehehehe. That's going to take you forever to fix. Also, I just messed my diaper. Big Time."

So, what can I make you?

Now that we have a little munchkin, it seems our eating habits are going to have to change. Pre-babycakes, I used to grocery shop with the best of culinary intentions. I'd walk down the aisles and throw one healthy item after another into the cart. Assembling the ingredients for low-carb quiches, low-fat soups, high-vitamin salads, I had visions of being a Top Chef about whom Lou would brag, "Britt is the most amazing cook ever, I don't know what I did to get so lucky!"

As it so often does, reality clashed pretty hard with my domestic dreams. Regardless of how well the fridge was stocked, we would inevitably come home, take one look inside and then turn turn to each other and say "So, um, sushi?"

Cutest dinner ruiner ever...

But now... now there are 3 factors that put a little bit of a cramp in our eating style:

1. We have a baby whose manners are somewhat suspect. Judging by how she is with us, I can't trust that she won't scream and cry at the waiters, throw up her food and then fart and/or burp. Like a trucker. While sitting at the table. 

2. Grandparents and other family members who would offer free, on-demand babysitting are 62 thousand miles away. And no, mom, you can't babysit via Skype.

3. Diapers cost money. So does a college education. Our wallets would prefer it if we ate less sushi and more stew.

As a result of the above, I have resolved to cook at home more. And by "cook" I mean more than just boil water and throw in pasta. 

My first challenge was to do something with the kilogram (no joke) of white beans I discovered in the pantry. I scoured the internet and found a recipe that looked promising - White Bean Tortellini Soup courtesy of the blog "Cheeky Kitchen."

This is how her soup turned out:

And here is my version:

Would you like a closeup of this masterpiece? Sure you would.

Yum!

I'll spare you the list of excuses for why my "bean soup" turned into burnt bean sludge - it may have had something to do with an incorrect French translation and forgetting to turn the stove down during the simmer period - but let's just say it didn't inspire a lot of confidence in my abilities. I ended up boiling the tortellini separately (so much for expanding my repertoire beyond throwing pasta in a pot) and serving it with tomato sauce from a jar. Lou had 4 bites and then made himself a bowl of Frosties (the Belgian version of Frosted Flakes). So. You know. That was a success.

As I still have half a kilo of white beans leftover, I'm going to attempt another dish tonight. I'll let you know how it goes... 

How did we get here - Take 2

Not going to lie, last post got interrupted by an overwhelming need to sleep. (can't even blame the break on the baby as Meemaw - aka Grandma - took her so that we could catch some shut eye. thanks Meemaw!) So I did. And it was awesome.

Now we are back in Belgium. Here's a snapshot of part of the apartment:

Believe it or not, this is progress. It is also only 1/3 of the total bags that need to be unpacked.

Not sure if you can tell or not, but babycakes is a being a huge help in the unpacking process.

Babycakes helping me write AND unpack. 

Since I am having trouble coping with the (seemingly) monumental task of unpacking and coming to grips with the reality of being back in Belgium and 47 thousand miles from family, I think I'll continue where I left off in the last post...

- Between January 1st and January 11th, very little was accomplished by either Lou or myself as we waited on pins and needles for the baby's arrival. 

Actually, that's not true. Everyone else waited on pins and needles while I, believe it or not, was fairly content. As I saw it, the baby would come when she was good and ready and the longer she waited, the more time she would have to grow and develop. Besides, it gave me more time to prep what I could around the house and stock up on sleep. Had everyone I run into not asked, "Where is the baby???" or "How do you feel? Do you feel like the baby is coming soon??" it would have been a wholly relaxing period.

I think I'll save the in-depth story of Babycakes' arrival for another post, so, suffice to say that she made her appearance on January 11th at 3:47pm. 

She came complete with 10 fingers, 10 toes and a cute button nose:

Babycakes on her birthday, January 11, 2012

To be honest, everything after her arrival is a giant blur. We had many visits from family and friends which were not only heartwarming but incredibly helpful in that they reinforced that we had made the right decision in coming home to have her. As we spent time with siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and old friends and they held her it all just... made sense.

I'm sure there were some exciting events between January 11 and our flight back to Belgium on March 2nd, but, at the moment I'm hard pressed to think of them. OH! I do have one - Lou's Dad & stepmom, Cindy, hosted a party at their house in Cleveland. In attendance were Lou's sisters, his brother, George, George's girlfriend since forever, Sam, and approximately 43 of his aunts & uncles from his dad's side. It was a really special opportunity for both babycakes (and myself in some instances) to meet family.

Well, it's now 4:18am (baby woke up not long after that last picture and insisted I pay attention to her rather than the computer) and - I think - she has finally fallen asleep. Since this jet lag is kicking us both in the butt, I suppose I'll try out that whole "sleep when the baby sleeps" thing. Night!

How did we get here?

It's the eve of our return to Belgium and, as I type, I can't help but be distracted by the 11 or so pound chubby cheeked wonder lying on my chest. She's making these soft cooing noises (I say "coos" but the less enlightened might say "grunts.") and as I watch her chest rise and fall I find myself befuddled as to how we got to this point.

How is it March? How have we been Home for 14 weeks? How is it already time to go back to that other place that has come to feel like home? How are we the parents of a 7 week old?

How did we get here?

Where is here? Well, let me just spell out the highlights of the past 14 weeks:

- Lou flew back to the U.S. for work on October 24th and traveled to Chicago, Indiana, Austin, Tampa, Columbus, Ann Arbor and Cleveland before meeting me in Pittsburgh on November 20th.  From there he traveled pretty much nonstop between Ann Arbor, Cleveland and Pittsburgh until Christmas. Long story short, poor guy lived out of a suitcase for 2 months straight. (While he was doing all of this crazy travelling, I set up camp at home in Pittsburgh and mostly stayed put for the duration of our time in the U.S. Being the mommy has its perks...)

- For the first time in 4 years we spent Thanksgiving on American soil. Cranberry Twp., PA & Cleveland, OH soil to be exact. It was wonderful. Not that our Thanksgiving dinners at the American Club in Brussels or last year's feast at McDonalds weren't lovely, but, there is no substitute for family. Or proper pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce (as opposed to cranberry jello).

Thanksgiving at the Keppler's in Cleveland (we also had Thanskgiving with my whole family in Pittsburgh but failed to document the occasion because we are awesome like that...).

- I went to approx. 47 appointments with my U.S. obstetricians. Although the process got old after awhile and I couldn't help but scream "Just get here already!" at the baby bump from time to time, it all went well. All of the doctors in the practice were amazing.  Just amazing. They were friendly, patient with my questions and, most importantly, fluent in English.

- We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning in Pittsburgh and then Lou drove to Cleveland for Christmas Day festivities while I stayed with my family for the day (first time that has happened in 5 years!). Why the separation? Welp. The docs had us in full on 'baby watch.' At my appointment on Dec. 15th, the doctor said I was 85% effaced and 2cm dilated. Which she interpreted as sure signs I would go into labor ahead of my Jan. 8th due date and should stay close to the hospital. Since Cleveland was a good 2 hour drive from my docs, I had no choice but to stay home. Although it was odd to be away from Lou, it was wonderful to just relax with Kels and my parents for the whole day. We saw the return of the Christmas afternoon nap and the nice steak dinner. Will have to find a way to reinstate them for future Christmases...

Jordan (aka the BEST part of Christmas morning) and I opening her present from me (a Dora Mega Block set)

- Despite having our hospital bags packed and never venturing further than a 30 mile radius of Magee Women's Hospital, New Year's Eve arrived and the baby was still very much content where she was. As such, we abandoned any hopes of a tax break for 2011 and rang in the New Year with Kelsalump and her friends. Although I was the lamest party attendant ever (I spent most of the night sitting on her couch watching tv and drinking V8 splash), fun times were had by all.

The hostess and I celebrating 2012

Listen here, girly...

Dear baby,

It's 3:55am and it seems you require my attention. At least, I assume that's the purpose of all your kicking and punching. How can I help you? Would you like some orange juice? Some hot milk? Perhaps a story?

hmm... scratch the story. My Kindle is out of juice because someone has woken me up at silly hours the last few nights and the only way I can fall back asleep is by reading. I suppose I could go find an actual book (you know, the kind with paper) but that would require getting out of bed and walking into the living room. Not unreasonable except for the fact that there may or may not be a mouse lurking in there. Your dad set some traps but this is a sneaky mouse who keeps eating the food off the traps without triggering them. Such a tricky little bugger. So yes, I think we'll stay right here with the door closed and I'll just tell you about the last week...

Let's start with the most exciting part first! On Wednesday I did some really fascinating research into whether or not a U.S. resident was subject to excise tax if they weren't invoiced for a premium payment in an international indentured bond. (huh. I think that might have just put you to sleep... totally understand. me too.)

oop... there you go kicking again. Guess that didn't relax you. I'm going to take this as a good sign. That taxes and finance irritate you. I fully support this irritation.

So let's move on to the truly fun news! The best part of the week was learning that all signs point to you being a healthy baby! You are right on point for size of head, tummy and legs. You have a very low risk of chromosomal disorders and you seem to have ten fingers and toes. This is fantastic. We are quite proud of you! Keep up the good work! Grow Grow Gadget Baby! (your dad and I might have been quoting Inspector Gadget this week... feel free to make fun of us in a few years, we can take it...)

The other truly exciting news was the doctor's suspicion that you are a GIRL. G-I-R-L!

Which. Wow. I don't know why but I was convinced you were going to be a little boy. I hadn't gone so far as to start calling you "Lil Louie" or "Lil L" - didn't want to confuse you if I was wrong - but... all the same I just KNEW there was no chance of you being a girl. So much for mother's intuition.

After I processed what the doc said, a million random things popped into my head...

First came the standard little girl thoughts. I had images of adorable little polka dot dresses and pigtails. Wearing the pristine little outfits that your cousin Jordan grew out of too quickly too wear.



Did you know that Polo makes BABY GIRL dresses? I sure hope you like this style becaues you'll be wearing it. A lot.

 Then I thought about you getting older and taking you for sleepovers with Jordan (fyi: she's awesome, you are going to totally love her and think of her as a big sister. Except better because you won't live in the same house and steal her makeup so you'll fight a lot less when you are in middle school.). I pictured basketball games and dance recitals (I'm hoping you got my athlete genes and your father's rhythm).




      

         Spencer genes should help you here.

 

... and hurt you here. You'll need a lot of Keppler in you for this to be possible.




And then I thought about you getting much older. And things started getting ridiculous. I had a few panicked moments where all I could think about was a 16 year old you screaming that you hate me and how I just don't understand and that I'm the meanest person in the whole world for not letting you go to the movies or buy the trendiest - yet totally inappropriate for a young lady- outfit. I worried that you would be an awkward teenager with no friends. OR WORSE. That you'd be confident, social AND popular.... agh! BUT. Then I remembered that those days are still at least a decade away so there's no sense in worrying about it quite yet. Let's get you out of diapers before I worry about the length of your skirt and whether or not you have a date on Friday.


Hmm... seems like you are finally settled. Perhaps my crazy, nonsensical tangents relax you? This could be an excllent thing.
Anyways. I think I'll take this opportunity to grab some shut eye as well.

See you in 21 weeks or so.

Night :)

Dear Baby - 3am? Really??

Dear Baby,

You woke me up at 3am again last night. And wouldn't let me go back to sleep until 6am. I'm fine with that on the weekends when I can sleep in or take an afternoon nap, but on a work night?? Not cool, dude. Not cool at all.

Seriously though, what were you doing at 3am? Somersaults on my bladder? That's the only explanation I can come up with for feeling the urgent need to go to the bathroom yet having the output of a thimble. I wonder if this is normal behavior or if you are already showing signs of being a troublemaker? Perhaps I'll ask the doctor at our big appointment tomorrow.

What big appointment is that, you ask? Well. If I understood the receptionist lady correctly, we'll be getting the fancy ultrasound treatment tomorrow. Rumor has it the machine is not the normal one used on the last two visits but a super special one that allows you to see things in 3d. This is equal parts terrifying and exciting for your dad and I. In the terrifying corner is the fact that of the handful of 3d ultrasound pictures I've seen, a very high proportion of the babies come out looking like aliens. Scary, misshapen aliens!

You think I'm joking? Look:

(While I'm confident you will look positively human, even if you do come out looking a bit extraterrestrial, never fear, we will love you all the same. In fact, given my love of all things sci-fi, I might just love you a little extra...)

On the flip side, the prospect of a 3d ultrasound is incredibly exciting because, provided you behave and pose nicely for the cameras, we may just find out if you are a baby girl or a baby boy!

Ahh! I just can't wait to find out! There's so much we'll be able to do.... The first of which will be calling you something other than "the baby." (a perfectly fine moniker but kinda on the generic side...)

If you are a boy, we'll start using your first name and playing around with nicknames and middle names to see what "fits." (In case you are curious, your name will be Louis [something] Keppler the 47th. Or something like that. You have no say in the first or last name but, I may let you vote on the middle name. We'll work out a system of kicks or something.)

If you are a girl, we'll start trying to find a name we both like. There are millions of names in the world, I'm sure we'll find something suitable. It just might take 20 weeks.

So. Baby. Feel free to do as many somersaults as you'd like between the hours of 3am and 8am. Just try to settle down and be calm around 9:15am... and be sure to smile for the cameras...

20 Weeks = Picture!

Happy Monday everyone!

Now that we are past much of the first trimester craziness and my moods have (mostly) leveled out, all anyone asks about is THE BUMP. Do I have one? Are there pictures? Is it big? Do your pants fit? Are there pictures? Does it get bigger every day?

Are there pictures?

Sadly, up until this point, we haven't taken any pictures. Well, that's a lie. I did take a few around week 12 or so but there was nothing to see. I just looked like I needed to do a few hundred sit-ups pronto. And cut back on the carbs. So I deleted those.

But now, at 20 weeks, there's a definite bump. It's HUGE. Monstrous.

It's so big I've had to hang up my work pants. Don't have a prayer of wearing them until I pick up the belly band and button extenders offered to me by a friend.

As this sudden growth coincides with the all-important 20th week of pregnancy (per the baby books and baby sites, that means we are just about halfway there. 20 weeks down! 20 to go!), I took a picture. And didn't delete it immediately.

Hoewever. Before looking at it, you should know a few things about the super weird process of taking "belly pictures":

1. You stand sideways against a neutral backdrop that will emphasize your stomach and turn to face the camera. This all feels very awkward.

2. You have to forget, no, actively work against everything you've learned about picture taking since college. Instead of sucking your tummy in, you have to let it just sit. You can't turn 3/4 towards the camera. There is no adjustment of the hip to minimize the size of your waist. Basically, you have to TRY to look fat. This also feels very awkward.

3. Then. You take a picture with your shirt down and your husbandsays "Yeah.. that looks dumb. You can't see anything." So you pull your shirt up. Like some teeny bopper trying to be provocative. This feels the most awkward of all.

So. Do you want to see the most awkwardest picture ever? Do you? Here you go. A very pale (yay Belgian summers!) me with a 20 week old bump:

See what I mean about the size? It's so big you'd almost think there were twins in there.

FAQ and Answers (all of which are perfectly acceptable)

In a previous post I mentioned what you should NOT ask new parents but I failed to tell you which questions were perfectly safe. Encouraged even.

Below are some of the questions Lou & I have been asked by friends & family since spilling the news. Our personal FAQs if you will. In case you were wondering some of these things yourself, I thought I might as well clear them up here!

(Random, not at all baby related picture I felt the need to include because it's fun)

Q: When are you due? (excellent question!)
A: January 8th, 2012.

Q: Hmmm... January 8th. Ouch. That means you can't fly during the holidays. Where will you spend Christmas?? (mean yet valid question)
A: We have no idea.

Q: So does that mean you'll be having the baby in Belgium? Or in the U.S.?
A: We aren't sure yet. There are a oodles of pros & a few cons for both so it's a tough one. We'll keep you posted.

Q: How would having a baby in Belgium differ from in the U.S.?
A: Well, seeing as how we have pretty limited experience when it comes to giving birth, either in the U.S. or Belgium, I'm afraid the following is going to be based purely on anecdotes from friends who have been through the process in both places:

- The average Belgian doc gives more ultrasounds than the average U.S. doc
- If you go the hospital route, after delivery, the mom & baby stay for an average of 3 days. More if there are complications, less if everything went great and you really need to be at home.
- Having a doctor and a midwife help you in the weeks up to your due date as well as in the delivery is not uncommon. (note: I have no idea what this costs)
- Unless you deliver in Flanders (where I live) or at certain hospitals in Brussels, there's a decent chance you will have nurses who do not speak perfect English.

And... that's it. Yeah, I thought there would be more differences too. Guess there's only so many ways you can have a baby in countries with solid medical care. If we were expats in West Africa, the list might be longer.

Q: If you have the baby in Belgium will it get dual citizenship?
A: I wish. Sadly, these are the rules:

A person born in Belgium (to non-Belgian parents) is a Belgian citizen if that person:

- holds no other nationality at the time of birth (i.e., is stateless) OR;
- loses any other nationality before turning 18 OR;
- has a parent who was born in Belgium or who has lived in Belgium for at least five years during the last 10 years OR;
- is adopted (while under 18) by a parent holding another nationality who was born in Belgium and who has had their main place of residence in Belgium for five years during the 10 year period before the adoption takes effect.
- has two parents or adoptive parents born abroad who submitted a declaration before that person's twelfth birthday requesting that the person be granted Belgian nationality. Belgium must have been the parents' main place of residence during the 10 years preceding the declaration, and the person must have lived in Belgium since birth.

Basically, this means that the only way we'd get the baby to have Belgian citizenship is if we were to stay here for another 6 years and then submit a declaration. I love Belgium and all, but I'm not sure I'd last another 6 years...

(sorry, maybe next time)

Q: Will you find out if it's a boy or a girl?
A: Provided he/she cooperates in the ultrasounds, absolutely! We'll need all the time we can get to prepare a nursery, get baby clothes in colors other than yellow or green and... think of a name in the event it's a girl. (Current contenders in the girl's name department: 1/2 of one name. Super.)

Mystery Solved

"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage..."

When I was little, I took this nursery rhyme as a commandment.

When I was in high school, I learned that step 3 sometimes comes before step 2.

When I was in college, I learned that step 3 sometimes comes before step 2 or even step 1.
Post college, I wondered why there wasn't a "first comes love, then comes a shared lease, then comes a baby all wrapped in fleece" version.

Now? Now I know why the nursery rhyme is so enduring. Why, despite the many ways of bringing little babies into this world, the love, marriage, carriage sequence is pretty ideal.

Would you like to know why? It's simple.

Pregnant ladies are insane. Completely and totally batshit insane.

And. If they didn't have a ring on their finger, their formerly loving partner would leave them faster than you can say 'mood swing.'

No, seriously. If you are in the incredulous camp, I totally feel you. I used to listen friends and coworkers talk about their own pregnancies or those of their friends and secretly scoff at the anecdotes:

"Nausea all day?" Oh please. Take some pepto bismal and quit complaining.
"Food aversions?" As if anyone likes peas to begin with.
"Extreme exhausion?" I'd like an afternoon nap as well but that doesn't mean I'm pregnant.
"Heightened emotions?" Sorry to say, you were just as manic before.

But now? Oh my. Karma sure caught up with me. For the last 6-8 weeks I've had symptoms that I used to think were purely psychosomatic but now know to be anything but:

- Nausea in the morning, late afternoon and evening. In case you are curious, it is every bit as attractive as you imagine. I spent most nights laying on the couch making strange groaning noises and shooting Lou death glares while he happily ate his dinner or drank a beer. I'm sure he's never loved me as much as during those quiet evenings together.

- I stopped being able to eat standby favorites such as salmon, anything green (broccoli, asparagus, spinach), tomatoes, cheese and... PASTA. (the pasta thing only lasted two weeks but those were 14 very long, confusing days) Lou and I had more than one 'invasion of the body snatchers' conversations.

- I don't think I've had the extreme exhaustion thing. It's kind of hard to tell. I nearly passed out a few times at work but, I mean, I work in tax. Welcome to the exciting world of accounting, folks.

- As for the last one... heightened emotions? Oy vey. Just as the nausea thing quieted down (I haven't been sick in a week! Yay me! Yay stomach!) the emotions ratcheted up.

For example: Waitress at the bagel place took 35 minutes to bring us our order? Usually, I'd be cool with it. I mean, it's Belgium. That sort of thing is par for the course. But this time? I was apoplectic. Lou had to talk me down from screaming for our brunch, asking to speak with her manager and demanding that our bill be reduced (3 MAJOR no-no's in Belgium). To appease me, he politely inquired as to the status of our order and said "great, thanks!" when she replied they would be out shortly. Usually, that's what I do! Since when did he become me and I become a raging witch?

Also: Two weekends ago we were supposed to go to this music festival. After 30 minutes of running around the apartment like crazy people we were all packed and ready to walk out the door when we realized that neither of us had printed out the tickets. Which meant we wouldn't make it in time to see Jimmy Eat World. Concerned over this, I ran to the computer to look up nearby places to print out the tix and, as I did so, I sobbed. Sobbed! Body wracking, giant tear dropping sobs. Lou stood there, helpless and understandably confused, and tried to explain that he had already seen Jimmy Eat World live twice. And they were great shows. No way this 1 hour set would top his memory. And did I even like Jimmy Eat World? "well, there's that [hiccup] one song [hiccup] that i like."


(Great song, but not worth going into hysterics over. Especially since friends said they didn't even play it.)

Right. I lost it over missing a band we were ambivalent about seeing in the first place. I. Am. Losing. My. Mind.


Thank goodness he married me. Otherwise, he'd be out the door. And I wouldn't be able to blame him in the least.

What NOT to ask/say/do to the newly pregnant....

As you may have guessed from the fact that I wrote about the latest development - Baby! Woah! - on here, now that we at nearly 14 weeks we have started sharing the big news.

It's been going fairly well so far. Our bosses are supportive, our coworkers are friendly, our families are super excited and our friends are happy it's us and not them. But in between the love fests, there have been a few odd moments. A look here. A phrase there. Just enough to make me catalogue a list of all the things a person may want to consider when someone tells them they are having a baby. You know, in case they like that couple and want the couple to like them back.

We do not gag at the thought of these bundles of cuteness, we say 'congratulations!'

What NOT to Ask/Say/Do to the Newly Pregnant:

1. Do NOT ask: "Are you happy?"

What the parents-to-be will think: Why shouldn't we be? You must not think we are ready for this. Why?? Was it the keg stand I did last weekend? Because you know I only do that occasionally.
Better question: "Congratulations! How exciting! When are you due?"

2. Do NOT say: "I totally guessed it! I noticed your pants were a little tight last week..."
What the mother-to-be will think: Are you calling me fat?
Better statement: "Congratulations! Wow! You look great!"


3. Do NOT: Touch the mother's belly.

Unless you are related or she knows you very well, don't. And even then, just don't. Just tell her she looks great. Just tell her she looks great.

4. Do NOT say: Has that lunch meat been cooked? When did you last eat sushi? Are you getting enough exercise? Are you sure you are getting enough Vitamin K?

What the mother-to-be will think: My doctor says I'm doing fine. Why are you picking on me?
Better question: "Congratulations! When are you due? You look great!"

5. Do NOT say: "Are you scared? You should be. Oh, and do you like sleep? Because you won't be getting any for the next decade!"What the parents-to-be will think: THANKS for that. THANKS.
Better question: "Wow! When are you due? You look great!"

6. Do NOT: Make a gagging noise and say "We're going out for happy hour! Who's in?"

What the mother-to-be will think: Screw you.
Better response: Anything else. Seriously, anything.

This totally makes up for it, don't ya think?

Hello,

If the combination of numbers and letters above my last post are to be trusted, it appears I have been gone for nearly 3 months. Wowzers. While the excuses are many (12 at last count) and several are standards (lots of travel + work) the final excuse totally makes up for my absence. I promise.


You see. I've been under the weather for the last, oh, 11 weeks or so.


It started on May 13th. Friday, May13th. Despite the ominous date, it was a gorgeous day and I was all walking happily to the grocery store thinking, "You know, Belgium doesn't suck when it's sunny and warm," when my stomach suddenly started doing backflips. I chalked it up to an odd lunch and continued on my merry way. Lou was in England until Monday for a Pink Floyd concert so I was determined to stock up on all the foods I love (but Lou can only handle in small doses: pasta, pesto, parmesan cheese and perhaps a little more pasta).

After another stomach flip in the meat section and then again near the produce, I found myself walking down the ladies hygiene aisle and realized that I hadn't had to frequent this area in... um... 5 weeks? 6 maybe? I started running numbers in my head and then bee-lined for the section full of those other sorts of ladies products.

Sandwiched between shampoos and first aid supply was a narrow column of a variety of things you wouldn't want your grandmother to see you buying. So. Obviously. I was surrounded by grandmothers. And fathers. And little kids. Because all of Leuven was shopping at this time. In this store. Right next to me. And as I stood there, trying to figure out which box could possibly the test taking sort of box, I felt like there were a 100 knowing glances directed at me. Kowning and yet completely unhelpful as there were no cutesy pictures on the boxes or any other helpful clues. Finally, after racking my brain for the proper translation and pushing boxes aside, I finally found - hidden behind a box of products aimed at preventing the need for these types of excursions - a ZWANGERSCHAPTEST!!

Yeah. ZWANGERSCHAPTEST. Not an obvious translation. Fortunately, this one was made by Clearblue so I knew I had the right kind of product.

Anyways, I rushed to the checkout, made my purchase as inconspicuously as possible and fast walked the two blocks home.

And... tick tock, tick tock... wouldn't you know? Those stomach turns? Totally not lunch-related. Not even a little.

They were caused by a little baby who had taken up residence about 6 weeks previously.

Little Keppler has hung in there for about 13.5 weeks and we (I broke the news practically the minute he walked in the door from London) could not be more excited. And thrilled. And all those other positive adjectives.

More news to follow, I'm sure.

now. wasn't that a good excuse?? I certainly think so.

Dinsdag DIY (or CWB?)

For those of you who were unaware, "Dinsdag" is the Dutch/Flemish word for "Tuesday."

And it just so happens to be my second favorite day of the week. Not because the day itself is all that special. Little of note ever happens on Tuesdays. Prior to moving to Belgium, it's sole accomplishment was that it wasn't Monday. But here, Tuesday is "Dinsdag." And that is just such a fun word to say. Even better, it is one of about 4 Flemish words I can pronounce PERFECTLY.

Sometimes, when I'm waiting for BF at this cafe near the train station that is often packed with locals, I'll call him and drop it randomly into conversation. It goes like this:

Me: Where are you? I have a table. Would you like me to order you a drink?

BF: Yeah. Sure.

Me: (as I notice the waiter approaching...) Ahhh. Op dinsdag.

BF: WHAT?

Me: (to the waiter) "Twee Rochefort 10, alsjeblieft."

Waiter: (Guesses I'm a local and says something in Flemish that I most certainly do NOT understand)

BF: You poser.

Me: (completely undeserved gigle)

Anyways. Dinsdag. In addition to it being an excellent opportunity to fake Flemish, I recently decided that Dinsdag should be a DIY day. (in this case, I'm being boring and letting DIY stand for good old "do-it-yourself"...) If I were at all talented or crafty or design sponge-y, I would knit scarves, weave blankets, arrange flowers or... repurpose vintage suitcases into coffee tables. But lets be real. I don't knit. I don't have a loom. I think flowers are too expensive. And no matter how hard I look, I can't find any blasted vintage suitcases in our price range. So. For me. DIY = cooking without boxes. Or rather, cooking with books. CWB, if you will.

Either way, cooking from scratch is no small feat for me. But. Just last Dinsdag I did it. And it was wonderful. Delicious even. And I must share.

The cookbook (and by "cookbook" I mean cooking blog) I used for this dish was everyone's favorite, Smitten Kitchen. And the recipe that I selected was her twist on Spaghetti al Limone. Except, of course, I was missing some of the key ingredients. (BF was being stupid and wouldn't run to the store to get me what I needed even though I was slaving over the stove for a good 12 minutes. Possibly even 13. The nerve of him sometimes...) So I made some substitutions.

It went like this:

Britt's Bogarted Penne al Limone

• 500grams or half a package Penne pasta. Plus an extra shake or two.


• Salt to taste. (for me that's lots. for BF that's barely enough to throw over your shoulder.)


• 2 lemons. (or 1 lemon plus a few capfuls of lemon juice if you are me and don't have dozens of lemons laying around. or 2.)


• 1 oz goat cheese (you are supposed to put in parmesan but we didn't have any. I used goat. it was awesome.)


• 1/4 cup olive oil 1/4 cup Alpro Soya Cuisine (Ms. Smitten recommends heavy cream. We never have that in our fridge but we did have some soy heavy cream substitute leftover from a previous culinary experiment/disaster. I think it worked nicely)


• Ground black pepper


• Handful of spinach or some other healthy looking greenery

Cook penne in a big old pot.

While your pasta is boiling, zest a lemon or two. Make a teaspoon sized mound and put aside then juice your lemons. 1/3 to 1/2 a cup is ideal. If you don't have fresh lemons, locate your bottle of lemon juice and put it on the counter. If you have neither fresh nor bottled lemon juice, why are you reading this? Go to the store.

How long has your pasta been cooking? 8 minutes or so? Check it. Is it just past crunchy? Perfect! Pour through a strainer and reserve a cup or so of the pasta water.

Now, this is where the big old pot comes in handy. Dry it and then place it back on the stove. Put your olive oil, cream, lemon zest and spinach in the pot and cook at high heat for 2 minutes or so. Stir lots and lots so nothing burns or sticks. When it's a little frothy, pour your pasta back in. Add the lemon juice and a bit of the pasta water if you so choose. Then, as Ms. Smitten says, "toss, toss, toss everything together."

Do a quick taste test. Add a bit more lemon or cheese or spinach or salt. If you have any pine nuts on hand (hah. If you are the kind of person who has those on hand, you probably aren't reading this, but, whatever), toast those lightly and throw them in the mix.

If the taste test goes well, place into bowls. Do NOT eat straight out of the pot with two forks like savages. Not that being a savage is a bad thing, but I promise you will not get your fair share.

Finally, enjoy!

P.S. Since you went all DIY on your dinner you can go straight to the box for dessert. I recommend a box of Pierre Marcolini's chocolates: