it’s not about you

my bro-in-law. always a joy. you never know what he’s gonna look like.

Judah and Killian are about to get the grandparent weekend extravaganza - Granddad AND Papa and Nana are all coming in for several days, along with Uncle Andrew for the weekend. This will be everyone’s first time to meet Killian.

We are eagerly awaiting their arrivals. My dad’s plane should be touching down any minute now, we expect Nana and Papa around 6 or so, and Andrew a little later. Could we BE more excited?!? I’m already not looking forward to Wednesday, when everyone will be gone, as I’m sure that will be the start of several days of depression and homesickness, but am trying to focus on the time that we DO have with them while they’re here.

Our parents are so cute - they got rooms at the same hotel, are going to share a car rental, and are on the same flight back to DFW. They have said they might take Judah for a stay in the hotel - I told my dad yesterday they could have her the whole time they were here if they wanted. He laughed at me. I think he thought I was kidding.

Killian turned four weeks old yesterday. It’s weird - because four weeks doesn’t necessarily mean a month old - he’s not officially a month old until the 17th. Kinda weird time-keeping, but, oh well.

I can’t get over how much bigger he is than Judah. I mean, she wasn’t this big until she was about three months old or so. Even in the hospital, Killian was too big for the newborn diapers - and I have two packages of NB diapers here are home that we are going to have to give away (anybody? anybody?). He’s already outgrowing the size 1 diapers - his thighs are so solid, that we have a hard time getting the diaper fastened. His cloth diapers still fit fine, and I prefer those anyway. He also doesn’t fit into half of his clothes. I was trying to put a onesie on him earlier this week, and i couldn’t even get the snaps to touch, much less try to fasten them.

And some things about boys are totally different than girls. I never got peed on so much by Judah. I’ll be nursing Killian and suddenly, the front of his onesie is soaked and pee is running down my stomach. He still poops like Judah - only every few days, but boy, look out when it happens!

I also find myself a much calmer mom this time around. When Judah would cry, it bothered me so much - I had to comfort her and get her to stop - and when she’d cry all evening, it was just torture - you just sometimes want to throw the kid out the window to make it stop, a common phenomenon among new parents, I’m told. With Killian, I’m much more laid back about the crying. We try to meet all his needs - a dry diaper, nursing, holding, rocking … but sometimes babies just need to cry, and it’s much easier this time to let him do that, and just hold him while he does. It doesn’t drive me as crazy.

He’s so big, sometimes Joshua and I have to remind ourselves how young he is. We realize that we begin to have expectations of him as an older baby because of his size, and then we snap ourselves back to reality and remind ourselves, he’s still a newborn.

It’s fun getting to know him. We fall more in love with him every day. I think we’ll keep him.

Man, I wish they sold these in the States.

Last Friday, Joshua scored two tickets to the Giants game that night. Of course, we couldn’t pass that up. So we went, and took Killian with us. We would have taken Judah if we had had another ticket. It was a good game. We even got a hot dog. Killian was a big hit - a three-week-old at his first Giants game. The man in front of us said his son was five weeks at his first game.

We got to see Barry Bonds bat a couple of times. I even got this photo of him getting a hit.

And we won! I think the Padres only got one hit the entire game. We’re going to have to become Giants fans for sure.

What happens when you ask a three-year-old to return the Q-tip canister to the bathroom without telling her to keep it upright. Sometimes you just have to laugh and then take a picture. Kind of like Lucy Grace with the lotion.

Although I didn’t laugh yesterday when I came out of the bedroom to find the turtle food spilled out all over the living room floor. And on Killian’s blanket. And on the art box, and under the chair. And in the hallway. Instead, I swept, mopped, scrubbed, and mopped the kitchen floor, picked up the entire house, and vacuumed every last square inch of carpet in this place. Sometimes being mad gets my house clean. It’s better than the alternative, I am sure of that.

via the New York Times.

from Ritual Coffee Roasters. via the camera phone.

When I moved back to Texas at the end of 2001, after quitting the Sun Herald, I got a job at a local breakfast and lunch cafe in Denton, that shall remain unnamed. The only redeeming part about that job was that I was in charge of the coffee six days a week (we were open six days a week) - making it, developing drinks and standards, training, setting prices, and ordering. And we had a great roaster who I learned a lot from about coffee.

I had already worked at Starbucks for the better part of two years, and up to that point thought Starbucks was great coffee. Starbucks is good coffee, and could be better, if their partners really cared and learned about coffee and how to make it properly and according to the standards the company sets. I, being the coffee nazi that I am, learned about all the coffees - I did in-store tastings, I learned the differences between the roasts and could tell you, after drinking a cup, which continent the coffee was from. I made great, consistent coffee, and would be horrified if I saw someone serve a shot that had been pulled too long, or sat too long. I have watched Starbucks managers make my drinks by pulling the shot, letting it sit, and THEN steaming the milk. I always politely request that they remake it. They should know better. And they do, they just don’t care. Daniel D., I hope you’re reading, and if you are, can I have a pound of decaf Anniversary Blend? Anyway, I digress.

Our coffee roaster for this small, unnamed cafe I worked for taught me a lot about coffee, enhancing what I already knew. He also challenged some preconceived notions I had after working for corporate coffee. I had wished I could go work for him, but he didn’t have an opening. I learned about steaming milk by the cup, what milk to use, what happens to the froth from variations from different gallons of milk and how that can affect your drinks; I learned about proper measurements of the grind, how much i needed to grind for a portafilter, I tamped on a bathroom scale until I knew just how much pressure to apply to get it just right. I learned how to make the cool designs.

And then I almost got fired because someone lied to the owner about me. I tried to quit the next day to the manager, who didn’t want to see me go and asked me to stay. I told her I’d give it two weeks and if things didn’t get better, I would quit. I turned my two week notice in, two weeks later.

Although the overall experience was horrid, I learned a lot about coffee, and will refuse to drink a latte from an automatic espresso machine. Joshua and I have had a dream for years about opening up our own coffeehouse. Maybe one day it will happen. You KNOW we’d make some effing good coffee.

link.

I’m going. Wanna go? Call me.