a time to gain

Contrary to my fears in early motherhood, things have settled down so much lately I’ve found time to… READ AGAIN! Wahoo! The baby’s journeying through some sort of epic growth spurt because she has been napping for the last FOUR HOURS! Amazing! (I keep peeking into her room half expecting to see limbs hanging out of the slits of her crib.) During lunch I picked up “About Alice” by Calvin Trillin and actually finished it before my last sip of coffee. Do your next meal a great service and read this book. Unless you are dining with others. Don’t read, it’s rude.

I’m off to take advantage of this free time. Here’s the babe sleeping. I'm hoping to finish some silhouettes for the nursery.

i killed a turtle

She died today. Or maybe last night. But we found her dead this afternoon and I can't stop picturing her in the cold and dark hole that is her home forever now. My veggies are dying too. I am not such a good mom to non-humans anymore. I am dissapointed with myself.

help me help you help me

Trying to get my act, I mean my career, together. I'm thinking about trying to get some assignments and taking bids on babysitters. Yes, you pay me to watch this precious child. Just kidding, but I am needing to find some help if I'm going to be serious about this. Anybody interested in a child care swap / co-op type of thing?

In other news, I'm sad to report our little unnamed box turtle is not doing so well - refusing to eat and such. Tried bananas, chicken, pork, beef, lettuce and meal worms. I'm waiting for word from our vetrinarian friend and hoping the turtle doesn't die before then. How sad.
As for our human baby, she's doing very well! This picture captures the unkempt genius that she is quite well, don't you think?

new additions to familia komexiana

(stolen) dogwood flowers

leafy greens for our puny city garden. (herbs and tomatoes still to come)

our new box turtle (upper left) that we have yet to name (taking suggestions)

dreadlocks (smaller of two pictured here) and a bald spot for Emmy (poor girl)

spring cleaning

Haha, you thought I meant with gloves and sprays and mops and things. No, I'm just talking about staying clean. For spring!

The situation at our house has made it such that laundry is of a low priority. Well, folding laundry that is. (Since the baby's been born our gas bill has nearly tripled - that's how much hot water we're using to keep the baby clean. Not that a pair of pants for a butt the size of a small grapefruit takes up so much space in the washing machine, but a couple dozen of them will. The kid must stay clothed and so the laundry must get done.)

So folding laundry, oh we laugh when we had such high standards. With parenthood Mike and I have learned to get by with what is essential. For instance, did you know that you can sleep quite well on a bed with two loads of clean whites between you and the wall? Not a problem!

About a month ago Mike was dressing the baby on the bed next to a pile (ok, a small mountain) of clean laundry. She was yelling because she hates to get dressed so he was trying to hurry. He got out a pair of socks and put one on when suddenly he couldn't find its companion. (Remember baby socks are only about a couple inches long by an inch wide -very easy to lose.) Luckily for him there was that whole pile of clean baby clothes next to the baby's head. This is when I walked in the room.

“What are you looking for?”
“I need another sock. Here’s one.”
"Don't do it!"
"Don't do what?"
"You can't make her wear mismatched socks!"
"Look, she's pissed! It doesn't matter!"
"It does matter! Don't do it!"
"What! This is ridiculous!"
"Look. As soon as you stop caring about matching socks, you LOSE CONTROL OF YOUR LIFE."

Does anybody else know what I am talking about? Letting your kid run around with mismatched socks opens the gateway to all things higgledy piggledy. Pretty soon a person is walking around with their grease stained shirt tucked out, living in a house with pitted cars and kid toys out on the front lawn. (You know I can’t use the word here.)

So that’s what I’m about today. Keeping socks paired two by two and not losing control of my life. Oh, that and trying to get rid of stuff via craigslist before our big move this summer. Anybody need a 60 lb sewing machine? Or a table we once found on the side of the road? Books on philosophy? (sorry Mike) Please call for an appointment today!

come hither to go yonder

In case you’re the last to know, Mike and I have decided to move to Boston at the end of summer. So if you can swing it, VISIT US! I’m going to be up to my yin yang settling in and exploring, taking care of Emmy, looking for work and practicing my twang, but as excited as I am for all this I’m sure I’ll be the loneliest girl east of the Mississippi for a good month or three AT LEAST. So please come on out. Jet Blue flies direct where most of you are.


Hard to believe we’ve had this kid for over four months already. Here are two shots of her in her Dad’s favorite hold – one from last weekend and one at three days old. Could that be the same kid?! She’s now half a foot longer and 9lbs heavier.

hmm, brain is frying

I meant to say, "uhh, house is burning" with that last entry.

By the way, Daniel, what po-tay-toe might you be referring to? The only spuds we get are imports from Chicago. Br-dr-dr-dr-dah-dah-dah-dah! (Think Johnny Cash)

shhh, baby is sleeping

I take this statement a lot more seriously than I used to. Emmy is sleeping less and less through the day (am I a bad mother for wishing my child slept 20 hours a day?) and the precious responsibility-free hours her naps afford me are spent running around like a chicken with my head cut off and trying to get. things. done. Whew! When I say “Shh, baby is sleeping,” I mean, don’t call, don’t drop by, leave us alone. Unless you need to tell me, “Uhh, house is on fire,” my statement trumps yours. Just kidding, but please do keep it down. Emmy’s going on 2 hours of napping and I’m doing everything I can to keep from clicking my heels and yelling "whapdeedooayay!!"


So wowee it’s been a while. Mike and I have spent the last three weeks hosting a flurry of out of town guests and being out of town our selves. My aunt and uncle flew back to Chicago Sunday and I am left savoring that sweet quiet after a wonderful visit from loved ones. We enjoyed good food, drink, conversation and most especially, the company of FAMILIA! I’m absolutely sleep deprived but happy happy happy.

the hair

Nighttime hair after bath.



Morning hair after it dries.

Far, Far Away

One of Mike’s colleagues asked if the photo from the perspective we know is everything blog was a picture of my folks. I was both pleased that Mike and I pulled our Halloween 2005 costume off so well and a little troubled that someone would think that old fuddy duddy could be my Dad. Did he not see the shirt poking out of the zipper? And my breasts?! Oh my! Were they not made of two rolls of toilet paper I would have been leaning over a bit more. Needless to say, my mother does not have back problems.

Moving on then.

Literally. We may be moving to Chicago. They say Chicago is the city of wind, which is a euphemism for a city of cement. Oh how would we fare without our clean air and evergreens? We think pretty well actually! (Especially compared to Calcutta – remember that heinous idea?) Neither of us has ever done the city thing and are becoming increasingly excited for the prospect of enjoying a stint there. My favorite things about Chicago? My Uncle Bruce and Eemoh, friends Dan and Rebecca and Greg, the CTA, that big lake, that it’s in the Midwest, (I do love the Midwest with it’s telephone wires and hot dish foods and people) the hope to get to know my little cousin Jaemin, and Wilco. After listening to Far, Far Away about a thousand times during college I feel like I’ve already lived in Chicago and loved it. So if we move there, it’ll be nice to be back.

Mike is teaching the baby self-defense moves in case we move to a big scary city.

a house but not a home

is the picture Emmy painted for sweet little Michael and me...


The phone rang, it was Mike's dad. Though my voice remained steady, I panicked a bit when I suddenly saw the house with "in-law glasses". There is a trigger that goes off in your brain the moment you get a call from your in-laws that signals you to take a look at the state of your house (crumbs on the kitchen counter, scumb in the bathroom sink, etc) and, if time allows, get it in shape as fast as your legs will move. But he was just calling to return a call from Mike. Whew.

I hung up the phone and looked around. Our house has gone to pot. Here are the pictures to prove it.

See if you can't find the baby. (Hint: She's sleeping)


I'm sure my dear in-laws understand how it is with a new kid, but I can't help but feel that a messy house reflects poorly on ME, as a mother, wife, WOMAN, person. Can't help it. I know it's rediculous. So I cleaned house while the baby slept for an hour. (The angels rejoiced...) See, I'm grateful my in-laws live close by, it keeps my house cleaner.

peck eel - 100 days of emmy

still no camera... will post some pictures soon.