Just Heather

We are in the throes of birthday preparations for almost-3-year-old. She couldn’t be more excited—and she has no concept of time—so every day I hear “Am I three yet, Mommy?” I have managed to plan out our party preparations to give her an idea of when it will be. Today we do treat bags, tomorrow we bake cupcakes, Friday we decorate.

Her party is Saturday, but her birthday is not until Monday. I have no idea how I would ever convince her that she is not 3 this weekend. It’s not important, so I won’t bother, but I do want her actual birthday to be special in some way. I think that’s how the “birthday dinner” was created in my family. Every year we get to choose our birthday dinner—we can go anywhere we want (within reason) or pick any menu for Mom to cook.

It has gotten quite predictable. Each year middle sis and I choose a steak house (with our birthdays 6 days apart and our family growing by leaps and bounds we are now forced to choose 1 steak house and share a meal), little sis chooses homemade beef and noodles, and my brother chooses crepes or lasagna. Every year. Without exception.

I mentioned the idea to my little birthday girl and told her she could choose anything she wanted for her birthday dinner and Mommy would cook it special for her. Her selection? Cupcakes. Okay, Mommy will make cupcakes for your birthday, but how about we choose something to eat for dinner too? She has her menu all planned out:

  • grilled cheese
  • peanut butter sandwiches
  • apples
  • hamburgers

I thought I had a little vampire baby on my hands. She wakes up each evening around 10. This is her longest waking period all day, unless you count from 1 to 5 am when she wakes every 20 minutes. I don’t count that since I don’t get to see her eyes through the haze of my own exhaustion. I only know she’s awake from the tiny wails that escape from her body.

We’ve taken to putting her in her bouncy seat to sleep. The vibrations are calming and when she wakes needing nothing but attention, I can just toss an arm over the side of my bed and bounce her. I only need to half wake for this motion. I thought I was going to have to start sleeping on the couch as her cries wake Daddy—who has to actually get up and go to work the next morning—though only about a quarter of the time. Well, at least the couch is ready made.

My dear husband can’t simply use a throw pillow and blanket when he watches television. No, that would be too normal. We have a comforter and bed pillows. I kid you not. I did manage to snag a new one on Black Friday that actually matches our living room. I’m not sure that makes it any more normal, but it’s not near as tacky.

I’m not sure the theory of me staying up all night actually makes as much sense as it did for the first two. Back then I could take naps when baby did. Now I have to stay awake and diligently keep middle sis from loving her to death. I could probably count on my fingers the number of hours I have slept since the munchkin came home.

Alas, that is no longer. I managed a blessed 5 straight hours of sleep last night. The wee one slept from 1 to 6 am. I swear that is the longest stretch I have slept in months. Pregnancy is not so conducive to sleep either. I guess that would be nature’s way of preparing you for the total lack of sleep you will have for the next 18 years. At least I’m finally getting a little rest.

Unless I just jinxed it. How do you do a jinx back? Oh, well, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.

Well, I survived Turducken Day. I’m thinking of making a shirt. Certain family members were predictably annoying, and we all left reeking of a perfume that makes me ill, but no one started yelling and I didn’t accidentally almost punch anyone. Success!

We arrived at my aunt’s just in time to eat so I missed the fun of dinner preparations—which sucks because this year they had the added bonus of watching the chefs get totally plastered. I did, however, get drunk-dialed by my mom so I got to feel the love. My brother and his fiance spent the entire day with her family and arrived late, but at least I got to spend a little time with him.

I did, however, have a very fun and happy Black Friday! Mom and I were joined this year by my sister, her roommate, and my cousin’s wife. Everything took a lot longer since we had to reunite and checkout at every store, but it was loads of fun. We’d Marco-Polo until we all found one another and then head to the checkouts, where I would usually leave my mother to pay for my items while I went to the car to nurse the baby. She was an excellent shopper—you gotta start ’em young!

I caught up on the entire season of Related with my sis. I also got the hubby to create a ringtone out of the theme song for me. It’s very fitting, especially considering the weekend we just had.

I hope you all had a happy and safe holiday weekend, and I leave you now with my new family theme song:

I hate you, I love you.
You know too much about me.
I have to just kill you,
but then who’d tell me how to live?
Don’t tell me how to live.
Just tell me I’m alright.
Just shutup—why do I ask you anyway?

We are not hosting a Thanksgiving feast this year, though I will be cooking a turkey. We are having lunch at hubby’s grandparents and dinner at my aunt’s house, where there will be no turkey. My cousins are always coming up with some weird turkey concoction to try.

The first time it was a Cajun-injected turkey. For our next dinner he was going to fry a turkey in under 30 minutes! I roasted mine and had the entire dinner ready and waiting for his turkey to be finished 4 hours later! This year we will have the pleasure of dining on Turducken—Turkey-Duck-Hen—a chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey. I only wish I were joking.

Since this “uniquely American development” requires 12 to 13 hours to roast, I will not have access to an oven. To solve the problem, I bought a roaster ovenlast night. The advantage of my new purchase is that it will double as a buffet server for a few of our side dishes once the turkey is removed for carving. Now to figure out how I’ll bake the vile green bean casserole concoction that has somehow become a yearly tradition.


Seven days. Seven precious, wonderful, glorious, exhausting days. Who would think it would be so tiring taking care of a tiny little thing who sleeps all day? Oh, the things we forget. I guess that’s natures way of getting us to do this over and over again.

It amazes me how much alike the girls can look and be so incredibly different. Third time around and I’m still learning as I go. All that crap the hospital sends home with you and not an owner’s manual in the mix.

She’s so cuddly, this one. If I could hold her all night long, I’m sure she’d sleep right through the night. She sleeps quite a bit anyway, so our nights aren’t too bad. She wakes up once in the middle of an 8-hour sleep to eat and get a dry diaper. Then she proceeds to sleep the other 16 hours in 3 hour shifts. We’re lucky to get an hour of gazing into those beautiful blues. Not that I mind staring at a sleeping baby cuddling against my chest.

The girls are just as enchanted with her. Brenia wants to help with absolutely everything. Funny story about that one—she decided she needed to help me feed the baby. When I told her she couldn’t hold the bottle because there wasn’t one, she said “That’s okay!” and grabbed my boob. Stacia rushes in the door every day after school to hold her. The girl who rushes through her homework to run out the door every day, always takes the time to cuddle her baby sister.

We’re starting to establish a routine, though when Daddy goes back to work in a couple weeks we’ll have to alter it a bit. The older girls are very set in their ways and do not handle changes well. Luckily, Lorelai pretty much sleeps through anything. She could care less where she is or what you’re doing as long as someone holds her now and then. That makes it very easy to go about our daily routine, with just a few small adjustments.

You know, like learning to do everything with just one hand. In another week or two I’ll get out her sling and start wearing her everywhere, but for now I’m content just to hold her. I do make her sleep in her bassinet every afternoon during her sister’s nap. That’s when Mommy takes her nap too!

  • My baby sister Lorelai comed out, and she’s not going back in! ~Brenia
  • Baby Rory stinks! ~Brenia
  • That’s the sleepinest baby I ever saw! ~Grandpa (my dad)
  • Boob is out! ~Me, warning my little brother who freaks about nursing
  • When she poops again, I’m done [holding her] for good! ~Stacia

My baby sister Lorelai comed out! She comed out, and she’s not going back in!



Baby Lorelai
Lorelai Renée Sokol
November 2, 2005
20 1/4 inches
8 pounds 6 ounces