tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23088860606806905352024-03-12T17:25:20.360-07:00Par-VENT-ingCall me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-12561381783821327982011-08-10T18:44:00.000-07:002011-08-10T18:45:51.201-07:00Sharing is... pacifying<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="286" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RljQMTZMYZY" width="450"></iframe></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-61409661894054237672011-08-06T09:36:00.000-07:002011-08-06T09:36:35.248-07:00And he'll be chasing girls in no time...<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="286" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/m6C3ucgY5D4" width="450"></iframe></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-3539231620006326552011-05-25T18:46:00.001-07:002011-05-25T18:46:58.110-07:00Woofy giggles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/4BW4dAHjfM0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-48016575839121999222011-03-04T16:12:00.000-08:002011-03-04T16:12:18.027-08:00Let the childproofing begin!<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="283" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/I6io7nt7urE" title="YouTube video player" width="450"></iframe></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-11159743699433421622011-02-22T04:39:00.000-08:002011-02-22T04:39:56.872-08:00Correspondence with Cole: five monthsDear Cole,<br />
<br />
Everyday you grow more independent... note the emphasis on <i>grow</i>.<br />
<br />
At your last doctor's appointment, you weighed 15.1 lbs. At five months, you've more than doubled your birth weight.<br />
<br />
Feliz cinco meses, hijo.<br />
<br />
And speaking of your doctor appointment, at it, she told me to "load 'em up..." with rice cereal, that is. I'd told the nurse you weren't sleeping well, waking to eat three or four times a night. <i>You're welcome, by the way.</i><br />
<br />
The rice cereal might keep you full longer, she figured. So now we feed you rice cereal mixed with breast milk or apple juice. Before bath time. And then bed time.<br />
<br />
And like I've reacted with every milestone you've reached, with this one my heart ached.<br />
<br />
It's one more step in your growth, one more step from babyhood and closer to the hood of man.<br />
<br />
Someday I'll celebrate these achievements with you, but for now I want you little forever. Looking at pictures snapped in 2010, I unhinge my jaw, you've grown so much.<br />
<br />
And with the aid of apple juice and rice cereal, that growth has less and less to do with me.<br />
<br />
I aimed for the six-month medal. The World Health Organization recommends babies consume only breast milk for the first six months of their lives, but only 13 percent of them do. I wanted to make the Sweet 13.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>Fail. </i><br />
<br />
Maybe I should have kept my sleep-deprived mouth shut. But that's what happens when you're sleep-deprived I guess.<br />
<i> </i><br />
Thinking about breast milk makes me think of the day we will wean you.<br />
<br />
As is your custom, I will experience the trauma of the weaning while you will open your mouth to real food and cow's milk without hesitation. <i>My mom used to do this</i>, you'll think to yourself, <i>oh yeah, I forgot.</i> You won't bat your sweet blue eyes.<br />
<br />
But mine will swell.<br />
<br />
Every act of independence in your life (your first bottle, your first night away, your first day of day care, etc.,) you've handled with a little <i>too</i> much ease. <br />
<br />
The rice cereal, for example. The doctor said it might take a couple tries for you to learn how a spoon works and it's purpose as an eating tool.<br />
<br />
Not you.<br />
<br />
Two mouthfuls in and you grabbed my hands and hollered "Feed me <i>damnit</i>!"<br />
<br />
Perhaps these indications of independence are insights into your personality and future.<br />
<br />
Perhaps you'll go to college out-of-state, open your own business or volunteer around the world.<br />
<br />
My eyes may swell again, but so will my pride. <br />
<br />
We have no specific goals for you Cole, what you do with your life is your choice. But as you grow, we do want this: happiness, health and self-sufficiency.<br />
<br />
And we love you. As big as you become, you'll always fit it my arms.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
mamaCall me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-19789695629350080892011-02-14T09:06:00.000-08:002011-02-14T09:06:32.519-08:00Happy Valentine's Day, luv Cole<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGyRQluRwO5eA8O8OspLjH4DlvcJc-E1BXmXQo_AqHW8GbIODt1OwTMx6uXGxCBqHJpDfJJKZ0UOFjnbHVwOzR6UyLgQzmz0jEhWqAJabllnhe7gHZHSNYvH6pxrJIGSInG-icGDdlaUH/s1600/1795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGyRQluRwO5eA8O8OspLjH4DlvcJc-E1BXmXQo_AqHW8GbIODt1OwTMx6uXGxCBqHJpDfJJKZ0UOFjnbHVwOzR6UyLgQzmz0jEhWqAJabllnhe7gHZHSNYvH6pxrJIGSInG-icGDdlaUH/s320/1795.JPG" width="235" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnAIPQD7hHq-_V-QIHo1rrISmtPsuz5HZcy-wN7yX9wv-XvyBUv0EG3jvvIHfsHaxA_zZ0P-cCQII7kqFO2ppJ8rqH38eg8lLrFTlCT6iGo_3pWvg281EzEX0CdKKtJdGjXswEv-8RnyFB/s1600/1801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnAIPQD7hHq-_V-QIHo1rrISmtPsuz5HZcy-wN7yX9wv-XvyBUv0EG3jvvIHfsHaxA_zZ0P-cCQII7kqFO2ppJ8rqH38eg8lLrFTlCT6iGo_3pWvg281EzEX0CdKKtJdGjXswEv-8RnyFB/s320/1801.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-17272131566421910632011-02-11T07:24:00.000-08:002011-02-11T07:24:40.192-08:00Cole photosNow that I'm blogging for work, most of my posts can be found <a href="http://parventing.areavoices.com/">here</a>. But photos, video and personal entries, those will remain on blogspot.<br />
<br />
So, I've posted photos of the cutest 4 1/2 month old in rural N.D. below :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5Qnx0j_y6zmzc067ogMUej8Z538e7UOQeq2VQGePiJOVEEh0qNtthsJSCKl-p65DVK_u2-giNgsOi8HYhAvRCo7rmLOgdseayjMqXD_fWydXhf3Xuz1SSN3nOjSuARUyF_vSyYNYkISk/s1600/1716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5Qnx0j_y6zmzc067ogMUej8Z538e7UOQeq2VQGePiJOVEEh0qNtthsJSCKl-p65DVK_u2-giNgsOi8HYhAvRCo7rmLOgdseayjMqXD_fWydXhf3Xuz1SSN3nOjSuARUyF_vSyYNYkISk/s320/1716.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHWleDhlWzX34cT15844JdVYeMhdR_yKUM6Wt-MIKV2upfwgXpPhULm7Zwf4B6wu0uaUtAcMxmehpnIskmND6f6Qu2NvGkt-wN6ryqelI-vg20YayQpEUGf6BccDYldJA1vYQYyLAD_kP/s1600/1701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHWleDhlWzX34cT15844JdVYeMhdR_yKUM6Wt-MIKV2upfwgXpPhULm7Zwf4B6wu0uaUtAcMxmehpnIskmND6f6Qu2NvGkt-wN6ryqelI-vg20YayQpEUGf6BccDYldJA1vYQYyLAD_kP/s320/1701.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-56219778963580954492011-01-26T07:26:00.000-08:002011-01-26T07:26:06.534-08:00Video: grunty gigglesWe spent last Saturday at home, doing nothing but enjoying each other's company. It was like maternity leave all over again. This is what happens when new parents have plenty of time on their hands.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/w5DFunutjtw" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="480"></iframe></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-16815244312345424262011-01-22T06:51:00.000-08:002011-01-22T06:51:39.376-08:00Correspondence with Cole: four monthsDear Baby Cole who is hardly a baby anymore or so it feels,<br />
<br />
So much has changed in four weeks, so much so I feel like childhood is slipping through your chubby little fingers.<br />
<br />
Today you turn four months old. Happy birth date.<br />
<br />
Three weeks ago I returned to work, sending you to a sitter we adore. She’s patient, she’s hard-working, she has high standards and lives life low-key. I cried the morning I dropped you off, right in front of her. I couldn’t even hold it in. A blubbering banshee. And while she's awesome, if the feminist movement was about choice, I never got one. Staying home with you was never an option for me. <br />
<br />
Part of me resents that. <br />
<br />
Why must the cost to live exceed a young family’s earning potential? Even with two incomes, we struggle. A couple generations ago, mothers home with children was the norm. Now it’s a luxury for the wealthy or for mothers who’s children outnumber their shoe size. I’m angry at our country’s workaholic, high cost, high-needs transition. But then I remember: my role as a parent is to turn you into an adult. Not baby you forever.<br />
<br />
So part of me is glad to return.<br />
<br />
<br />
It's good for you to learn new faces, new people and a sense of independence. It's good for me too.<br />
<br />
It's good for me to have purpose. Not that you weren’t purpose enough, but if I didn’t shower, you didn’t mind. Hygiene is held to a higher standard in public, however. And I appreciate that. Plus, extended periods at the office mean extended periods away from you, so even more, I appreciate the time we do share. And for the mothers who work part-time, it’s my belief they’ve captured the best of both worlds. <br />
<br />
Your sitter tells me you roll and roll and roll like a rolling pin flattening Aunt Bev’s cut-out cookies. I’ve witnessed you roll once, but not multiple times. That’s because your father and I hold you every chance we get. We only have you a few hours a day now instead of all of them, so we soak and savor every droplet. Guilt envelopes if we leave you alone, kind of like how I feel now, knowing you’re awake, but leaving you to yourself anyway.<br />
<br />
Right now, you’re in your Pack N’ Play, supposed to be sleeping so mama can write. Instead, you’re immersed in deep conversation with the TV stand, so I eavesdrop while you coo and squeal. I’ve read it’s good for babies to have a little alone time, to see their surroundings at their own pace, to stretch to reach toys and observe the world around them. But I still want to cradle you in my arms at every opportunity.<br />
<br />
At four months, you can hold your head up and even reach objects hanging from your jungle gym, a present from Grandma Jane.<br />
<br />
At four months, you cry in your car seat, which isn’t entirely true. You cry <i>getting into</i> your car seat. Once inside, you pass the 40-mile commute with your eyes closed... Even when my tires get stuck or check engine light turns on. Because 20 below and 12 hours of darkness isn’t enough: Mother Nature gives us car trouble too.<br />
<br />
When your father and I learned of your conception, we high-tailed it to a car dealership where the vehicles stood high from the ground and batteries withstand 30 below temperatures. I spent a lot of money on a vehicle to avoid all the catastrophes of Winters 2008, 2009 and 2010 --> Part I. Although the car trouble is different this year, the catastrophe remains. <br />
<br />
Driving to work on a double-digit below zero day, you and I were comfortable in our seats until my check engine light hollered "HOWDY" and the temperature gauge fell from comfortable, to freezing. Fearing I’d hypothermeate your little bones, I called a car-mechanic friend at 7:30 in the morning, crossing my fingers he’d pick up. He did. And when he inspected my car that evening, he did not find frozen snow like he expected, nor did he find any of the ailments that plagued my vehicles in the past. <br />
<br />
He found a mouse nest.<br />
<br />
A M-O-U-S-E nest. What he didn’t find, was the mouse(s). I blame the country. Oh sure, it can happen in the city too, people say. Well, it never happened <i>to me</i>. So I blame your father too. Living 100 miles from Starbucks was HIS idea. I don’t mind ambulance sirens and other city noises. At least you’re close to a hospital! <br />
<br />
You’ll surely turn out like your dad, appreciating nature, peeing outside and shooting animals just for fun. But just know, my sacrifices exceed staying up with you all night (yes, still!) pinching pennies for your education and not my vacation account, and dressing and redressing after a digested-breast-milk christening. You can thank me for it when you receive the Nobel Prize, teach PhD students or win the jackpot or something. <br />
<br />
And if you never do those things, do this: laugh. And know I will always love you. Always always always. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh431xvvs11hj6GbD4YKKUTrmxKh3wzk20SKr0PMmvjlbHK9gFaR6QW4jNbuy25RauP_8lkAyul8FqQRsL67Irl97kYZukLLp72qt5kxG2CFJJH_jP3chUowBub1UO-hb5ZVM8mcU7UFBpV/s1600/SANY1643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh431xvvs11hj6GbD4YKKUTrmxKh3wzk20SKr0PMmvjlbHK9gFaR6QW4jNbuy25RauP_8lkAyul8FqQRsL67Irl97kYZukLLp72qt5kxG2CFJJH_jP3chUowBub1UO-hb5ZVM8mcU7UFBpV/s320/SANY1643.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Love,<br />
<br />
Mama<span id="goog_157805390"></span><span id="goog_157805391"></span>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-78824162106702920762011-01-15T18:31:00.000-08:002011-01-15T18:31:35.786-08:00Roley poley ColeyHe used to react to tummy time like torture. His hands and feet flailing exasperation. Now, he lifts his head like a kite saying, hey yo, this is cake.<br />
<br />
I fear the army crawl is not far behind...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="278" width="450"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yfx8NvB7wPo?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yfx8NvB7wPo?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="450" height="278"></embed></object></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-44132337818219997712011-01-11T19:11:00.000-08:002011-01-12T07:37:29.051-08:00Blubbering at the babysitterEveryday I come home and he's changed. He's a little taller. Rolls over further. His face, getting older.<br />
<br />
When maternity leave ended, extended periods away from my son began. The other night I came home to Cole on the changing table and his father holding diaper wipes.<br />
<br />
"I'LL CHANGE HIM!" I announced like the task was winning the lottery or eating grandma's oatmeal raisin cookies.<br />
<br />
When Levi said he already had, it was the first time in my child's life I was disappointed about a diaper.<br />
<br />
Most night shifts, I've come home to the baby already sleeping. That night, he was awake and wild and happy to see me. I swear he even smiled at my appearance.<br />
<br />
So laundry and dishes and blogging take a backseat. I only get my son a few hours a day now, instead of all of them. So when I'm here, I save my attention solely for him.<br />
<br />
With Levi watching Cole my first week back, I thought taking him to daycare yesterday would be just as easy as changing diapers in the dark, with one hand or any of the other mommy skills I've mastered.<br />
<br />
But just as I needed to hone my Huggie skills, I'll need to master the art of the day care drop off as well.<br />
<br />
I kissed my son's head, handing him to his new caregiver and passing my sniffles off as allergies. My tears, however, threatened to convict me. Cole, ever the feisty one, laughed and cooed with his new found friends.<br />
<br />
I sauntered to my car, borrowed tissue in hand, searching for an explanation.<br />
<br />
I'm not an overly emotional gal... and I know this woman provides great care. So what was my problem?Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-3315447708222090672011-01-08T23:10:00.000-08:002011-01-08T23:10:49.550-08:00For my familyIt's been a tough week. And I'm not talking about my return to work. That seems like a minor inconvenience compared to the sudden loss of life and limb in my family.<br />
<br />
* Cousin <a href="http://www.thonline.com/article.cfm?id=308021">Brian Pfeiler</a>, make that Sgt. Brian Pfeiler, of Iowa National Guard Company D 1st Battalion, 133rd Infantry, stepped on a landmine while on patrol in Afghanistan and lost his right foot.<br />
<br />
* Twenty-three year old <a href="http://www.thonline.com/article.cfm?id=307702">Christian Sogaard</a>, my mother's cousin's son, died in a car crash Tuesday. <br />
<br />
But those stories are not mine to tell. <br />
<br />
Even so, it doesn't seem right to earn revenue on a post like this, so I removed the ads.<br />
<br />
Aunt Donna in Oklahoma said a few photos of Cole might lift a spirit or two. And he likes to help when he can. So here they are.<br />
<br />
Thinking of you Pfeiler and Sogaard families...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXT2uxXj6XF614AbPJBjjKNM_B6ijlAnKDfv_DEN5iwEyNx4cah7GLcZlfUz9AjJ8aNYUK4_dHrvOu3rpKBbuXYCGGDJlfURHFapm-z2Fa6e_Forqt78L6G10h2o6yTK4NfUzS7sMwiCMW/s1600/SANY1667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXT2uxXj6XF614AbPJBjjKNM_B6ijlAnKDfv_DEN5iwEyNx4cah7GLcZlfUz9AjJ8aNYUK4_dHrvOu3rpKBbuXYCGGDJlfURHFapm-z2Fa6e_Forqt78L6G10h2o6yTK4NfUzS7sMwiCMW/s320/SANY1667.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib26J1S6lVe5dGzb2m8_Qzyit9z18sNHf8e0j7qS8bzKtd-q499xeoMVC8H612Te_njbZ9D0fNfy71IlMJgwfqQ-i1Xb2HDcedhk38wxIzdmI156IziqcYdlhd2JSuwjpocZBNu11ujOXN/s1600/SANY1671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-9175736966635551512011-01-02T09:00:00.000-08:002011-01-02T17:53:18.970-08:002010: The year of baby, car-buying, weddings and home ownership<b><span style="font-weight: normal;"> Found this survey on <a href="http://www.peggysuebrister.com/">Peggy Sue's Perspective</a> blog. She'd located it on <a href="http://www.mommywantsvodka.com/2010-a-space-oddity/">MommyWantsVodka</a>. The survey is a little narcissistic, but 2010 was a big year for me. Let's document:</span></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?</b><br />
<br />
Holy! You act like that's a one-part answer. To begin...<br />
<br />
1). got pregnant<br />
2). purchased a car <br />
3). got engaged<br />
4). got hitched<br />
5). gave birth<br />
6). moved in to the world of home ownersville<br />
<br />
.... yes, in that order.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?</b><br />
<br />
Every year I say: get healthier and lose weight. Last year, I got pregnant. So no, no I will not make any for next year.<br />
<br />
<b>3. Did anyone close to you give birth?</b><br />
<br />
Yepps. Me. <br />
<br />
<b>4. Did anyone close to you die?</b><br />
<br />
No. Thank goodness. I don't think I could handle any more of life's milestones last year. That and THANK GOODNESS no one died, but you knew that already...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>5. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?</b><br />
<br />
* A better blog, one that helps people, provokes conversation and provides entertainment<br />
* A Bobcat to remove the North Dakota snow<br />
<b>6. What countries did you visit?</b><br />
<br />
None this year. Unless you count @nortonbrian's New Zealand photos on Facebook.<br />
<br />
<b>7. What date from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:</b><br />
June 26, 2010 ---> wedding day<br />
Sept. 22, 2010---> Cole's day<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?</b><br />
<b><br />
</b>Motherhood<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>9. What was your biggest failure?</b><br />
<br />
Not documenting enough of carrying Cole<br />
<br />
<b>10. Did you suffer illness or injury?</b><br />
<br />
Do the fat ankles of pregnancy count?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>11. What was the best thing you bought?</b><br />
<br />
My Cole-mobile <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>12. Whose behavior merited celebration?</b><br />
<br />
all the awesome people who helped us finish and move into our new house. And! All the fantastic medical pros responsible for Cole's good health.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?</b><br />
<br />
My brother. Jeez, Mike. That dancing on tables has GOT to stop.<br />
<br />
<b>14. Where did most of your money go?</b><br />
<br />
<br />
Car, wedding, baby, house...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?</b><br />
<br />
My wedding reception<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>16. What song will always remind you of 2010?</b><br />
<br />
"You and me together," Dave Matthews<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>17. Compared to this time last year, are you:</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>i. happier or sadder?</b> neither. just more scared. Scared I'll mess my kid up for eternity<br />
<br />
<b>ii. thinner or fatter?</b> well, I'm not pregnant anymore, so let's go with THINNER! Yey me! <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>iii. richer or poorer</b>? financially? poorer. but richer in so many ways *awww*<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>18. What do you wish you’d done more of?</b><br />
<br />
blogging, writing letters to my son<br />
<br />
<b>19. What do you wish you’d done less of?</b><br />
<br />
Lived alone in my apartment. It's kind of nice to have roommates again.<br />
<br />
<b>20. How will you be spending Christmas?</b><br />
<br />
<br />
I spent Christmas in Iowa. With more family members than in Levi's graduating class.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>21. There was no #21. I don’t know why there was no 21.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>22. Did you fall in love in 2009?</b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*yes*</span><br />
<br />
<b>23. How many one-night stands?</b><br />
<br />
<br />
None. And even if there were, my DAD reads this!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>24. What was your favorite TV program?</b><br />
<br />
Dexter<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?</b><br />
<br />
Maybe<br />
<br />
<b>26. What was the best book you read?</b><br />
<br />
"What to Expect when Expecting"<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>27. What was your greatest musical discovery?</b><br />
<br />
the sweet symphony of a laughing baby <br />
<br />
<b>28. What did you want and get?</b><br />
<br />
Well, not a No. 29 survey question THAT'S for sure.<br />
<br />
<b>30. What was your favorite film of this year?</b><br />
<br />
Does the TV series, "Dexter," count? <br />
<br />
<b>31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?</b><br />
<br />
26, and Levi and I left Cole alone with a babysitter (his grandma) for the first time and had dinner<br />
<br />
<b>32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?</b><br />
<br />
<br />
Winning the lottery of course. But to win you have to actually play so I am probably not ever going to win it. <b><--- I copied this from Peggy Sue. It was the answer in my head before I read what she wrote. Basically, Peggy Sue telepathically plagiarized me.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?</b><br />
<br />
Elast-o waist pants<br />
<br />
<b>34. What kept you sane?</b><br />
<br />
My mom. She's insane enough for the both of us :)<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?</b><br />
<br />
I used to heart Christina Aguilera. And then she used her divorce to publicize her movie. Two words: lame.<br />
<br />
<b>36. What political issue stirred you the most?</b><br />
<br />
<br />
I should know this one, but with all I had going on, I don't remember much beyond my four little walls this year. But I suppose I could fake it and say... Don't Ask, Don't Tell? Health Care Reform? Obama's Republican in Democrat's clothing-style tax-breaks?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>37. Who did you miss?</b><br />
<br />
My family in Iowa and Colorado.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>38. Who was the best new person you met?</b><br />
<br />
Cole Ryan Anderson, obvs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010:</b><br />
<br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;">Pills alone are an inadequate means of birth control! (Sorry 'bout that one dad, but the little kids need to know) </b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:</b><br />
<br />
Mmm bob?Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-42199749367708631482011-01-01T16:00:00.000-08:002011-01-01T21:36:52.069-08:00Motherhood, the identity crisisTomorrow I return to work. Yes, Sunday. I'm in the news business. We don't sleep. Until we have babies. And then <i>they</i> keep us awake. But anyways...<br />
<br />
Tomorrow I work and I have mixed feelings.<br />
<br />
It's not like I want to stay at home. Financially, it's impossible and metaphorically, it's not who I am.<br />
<br />
I am a writer, a reporter and an award-winning journalist. That's the argument I give myself, of course. But the other half of my brain is not convinced.<br />
<br />
So I argue further:<br />
<br />
After college, I sojourned to the Great Big North in search of Great Big Headlines and a Great Big Career. <br />
<br />
To not work slaps all those college interviews and late nights in the face, not to mention the face of destiny who led me here in the first place, if you believe such a thing exists.<br />
<br />
Behind a notebook, college-ruled, hand-held or otherwise, is where I belong. It's what makes me, me.<br />
<br />
But now I'm a mother/Cole's mom.<br />
<br />
And he makes me who I am as well. And with the help of his father and some prenatal vitamins, I also made him.<br />
<br />
He's brand new, but he too, defines me. If a day-care lady changes as many of his diapers as I do, how much of his mothering is really mine? And worse, what happens when he rolls over for her before me? What if <i>she</i> teaches him to speak, to read, to pee in a toilet? How many tears will fall if he prefers <i>her</i> care, to mine?<br />
<br />
Motherhood is such an identity crisis.<br />
<br />
For a girl who never liked to cook, now all I want to do is wake early to make a hot breakfast for my working husband, read books to my son and create Eiffel Towers out of Popsicle sticks.<br />
<br />
I'd read, I'd blog, I'd spend too much time researching stain-removal, decorating for Columbus Day and gossiping about events and people I don't even know.<br />
<br />
That's how I want to spend my life.<br />
<br />
Right now anyway.<br />
<br />
Check back when Cole wakes up.Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-42654275058790360822011-01-01T07:25:00.000-08:002011-01-01T07:29:19.619-08:00Baby's first New Year... and hangoverJust kidding mom...<br />
<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">May good fortune in 2011 smile upon you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Happy New Year!</div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-59252188839898222472010-12-31T10:30:00.000-08:002010-12-31T10:30:25.877-08:00My baby the teaseCole slept an entire <b><span style="font-size: large;">six</span></b> hours Wednesday night. But I didn't. Mothers always tell me, he'll start to sleep through the night but you won't. You'll freak out and double check his chest to make sure he's breathing.<br />
<br />
I already check his breathing, so you can imagine my trepidation when he slept longer than he has since birth. But you can also imagine my delight. <br />
<br />
<i>Oh my sweet baby boy</i>, I thought, <i>how kind of you to learn to sleep just before your mother returns to work.</i> <i>What a precious child. I am so lucky.</i><br />
<br />
With all my rest, I cleaned the kitchen, washed the laundry, <i>cooked dinner </i>and even spent quality time with the husband after Cole fell asleep.<br />
<br />
<i>All is smooth sailing from here</i>, I thought.<br />
<br />
So last night, after I tucked Cole in and kissed his little cheek, he woke up three times before morning. <i>Thanksalot.</i>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-11951591020931173712010-12-29T09:19:00.000-08:002010-12-29T09:19:30.166-08:00Guest post: I see you see meSometimes I get frustrated with my child. Not all the time, not even most of the time. Just when he won't sleep... at 3 a.m., 4 a.m., 5 a.m.... you understand. <br />
<br />
When I get frustrated, I tense up. I don't handle him as gently. I don't smile. I don't purse my lips and tell him how cutie wootie his itty bitty tootsie wootsies are.<br />
<br />
According to this guest post from Annie Kirschenmann, M.S., BC-DMT, NCC, Certified Corporate Business Coach, Cole sees, learns from and reacts to my behavior. Even at his age, how I react to him forms his impressions of the world. <br />
<br />
<br />
I guess he and I better get back to that tootsie-wootsie conversation... :)<br />
<br />
<br />
From Annie:<br />
<blockquote>The camera moves slowly around the large room. The windows are tall and light spills in, filling the space. A woman gazes at a toddler. The little girl has her back to the adult and is facing the wall, closely watching her fingers move in rapid, repetitive patterns. The woman mirrors the girl’s finger movements exactly. It is the beginning of a relationship.<br />
<br />
This is from the film “Looking for Me”, produced in the 1960s by Janet Alder, the dance/movement therapist in the scene. The child, as you may have guessed, has been diagnosed with autism -- a condition characterized by difficulties in establishing the ways of relating and communicating most of us take for granted.<br />
<br />
What’s not so well known is that such a state is also a stage of infant development, referred to as “normal autism” (The Psychological Birth of the Human Infant, M. Mahler). During this phase of development, the infant is basically unaware of anyone outside of herself. Slowly she becomes cognizant that she in not alone; and the parent / child relationship begins with a smile. (See my last blog, <a href="http://parventing.blogspot.com/2010/11/guest-post-smile-%20for-me-baby.html">“Smile for Me Baby”</a>.)<br />
<br />
Now junior is pretty much glued to you – watching your every move. <br />
<br />
Something really interesting kicks in at this point; little critters in the brain called mirror neurons. As the name implies, it means that we “mirror” other people's movements in our brains; and by watching someone else’s actions, neurons fire in the same way as if we were doing that exact movement ourselves.<br />
<br />
Mirror neurons are a relatively recent scientific discovery and have inspired a lot of research in the areas of neurology, development, empathy, how we learn. . .and even athletic excellence! But what does it mean for you and your baby?<br />
<br />
At this point, your infant has no verbal language, so everything he is learning and communicating is happening in movement, touch, expression, taste and sound. He is taking in a world of information and forming impressions – about language, his self-esteem and sense of self, relationships, whether or not his world is a safe place – and much, much more. These extremely impressionable pre-language months set the stage for much of what his life will be like. You and the others around him are imparting the non-verbal messages that will help him determine this -- and when it comes to learning, his mirror neurons are very busy and play a critical role.<br />
<br />
The impact also goes both ways. Your infant is having an affect on you – and activating your mirror neurons. It’s nature’s little way of helping you to develop strong empathy with her; to be able to read her needs and desires before she has the language to express them. On a very primal, basic level, you are both “saying” to each other:<br />
<br />
“I see you see me.”<br />
<br />
What happens with the pair in “Looking For Me”? In a heart warming scene, after many sessions of movement mirroring on the part of the adult, the child turns and runs in the woman’s arms; they hug and dance around the room together -- a powerful testimony to the power of non-verbal communication. <br />
<br />
Seems like a pretty awesome thing, doesn’t it? It is indeed. And you can use the level of communication intentionally with your pre-verbal child. Begin by becoming aware of your own non-verbal messages. <br />
• What are you expressing with your face?<br />
• How and when do you move towards or away from your child? <br />
• When you interact with your child, notice your own body. What are exactly are you doing in movement? Are you relaxed or tense?<br />
• How are you using the tone of your voice? <br />
<br />
Over the next few weeks, practice noticing your own non-verbal behavior and really watch how your child responds to it, in movement, sound and facial expressions. Then we will explore more tips for enhancing non-language communication with your child in my next blog, “Non-verbally Speaking”.<br />
<br />
<i><br />
Annie Kirschenmann is a board certified Dance/Movement Therapist and a non-verbal communication expert; a Nationally Certified Counselor; and a Certified Corporate Business Coach. She holds her M.S. from Hunter College (NY) and her BA from Macalester College (St. Paul). Annie’s award winning master’s thesis is on the therapeutic benefits of smiling, laughter and humor. She is the owner and lead coach/consultant for A.K. Coach and Company (AKACoachAndCompany.com). She can be reached by e-mail at: Annie@AKACoachAndCompany.com</i></blockquote>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-82135538267574919512010-12-25T07:00:00.000-08:002010-12-25T07:00:00.585-08:00Santa was good to us this year<div style="color: red; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Merry Christmas</span> and <span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy Holidays </span></span></div><div style="color: red; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">to you and yours </span></div><div style="color: red; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">from all of us.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-65341373686674238952010-12-23T09:35:00.000-08:002010-12-23T09:35:30.493-08:00Children are the best birth controlChildren respond well to routine. Completing daily tasks in consistent order give cues to the little ones: after we read, it's bath time, after bath time, we sleep. Routines help them find order and security in the chaotic world around them.<br />
<br />
So after a 9-hour car ride, (not routine), I lay Cole to rest in his Pack N' Play (he usually sleeps in his swing) and without a swadle. (He's grown too big and strong.)<br />
<br />
When he woke up at 11:30 and 1 and 3 and 5 and 6 and 8, I wondered why.<br />
<br />
Dumb.<br />
<br />
But in the midst of my waking, feeding, changing and rocking, I could think of only one thing: vasectomy prices. <br />
<br />
Exhausted and changing a diaper in the dark, I bent to carry Cole to his sleeping station.<br />
<br />
One Hershey squirt later and he soiled the diaper I'd just changed.<br />
<br />
Still exhausted and in the dark, I waited patiently, wondering if Hershey squirt traveled alone or with friends.<br />
<br />
After a few minutes, I opened his diaper again.<br />
<br />
And he peed on me.Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-14069541295950257702010-12-21T21:18:00.000-08:002010-12-21T21:27:15.138-08:00Correspondence with Cole: three monthsDear Cole, <br />
<br />
You laughed! Oh how you laughed. Your sweet giggles and their laugh-ifty laughness. If a mother can fall in love with her child more than once, Cupid forgot what holiday it is and again stuck me with his arrow the day those sweet chuckles befell your mouth. <br />
<br />
If you smile only for your dad from here forth, I shalt not complain.<br />
<br />
Let us pause and revisit the laugh. No one will mind. I've watched it a thousand times and have yet to tire of it.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="295" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aIZqPRF7I-k?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aIZqPRF7I-k?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object></div><br />
Cole, if you grow up not fitting through doors because your head is so big, others may not understand, but your mother will. Indeed, you are the most adorable baby in the history of reproduction. If you obtain an ego, it's deservedly so.<br />
<br />
I can't believe I'm writing this already, but happy three-month birthday, Baby Cole. <br />
<br />
No way are you this old. Someone must have thieved a few ounces of sand in the hourglass of life because surely, the minute-hand ticked too quickly.<br />
<br />
After 90 days, you laughed. And while it's video brings me so much joy, now and then, sadness overshadows. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I miss my parents, your grandparents, so much. I wish they could see you every day or every weekend or at least every holiday. But the distance between North Dakota and Colorado is great, and work schedules and winter weather aren’t always forgiving. They love you so much. They miss you too. Thank you for laughing while the camera was rolling. Thank you for letting us capture your first (and so far, only) laugh and share it so they could see. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I want to bottle you up and keep you three months forever. Since I know our full-time days and nights together are limited, I’ve taken to holding you whenever your eyes are open. So as soon as you awake in your favorite of chairs, I break from writing to cradle your little behind.<br />
<br />
And at three months, your little behind isn’t so little anymore. I retired your newborn-sized clothes a few weeks ago. At your eight-week check up, you’d gained 4 lbs and 3 inches. You put away 8 ounces like sexy underwear you don’t want your grandmother to find. Sometimes your grizzly-like guzzling hurts you. Like at Thanksgiving in Colorado, for example. <br />
<br />
At Grandma and Grandpa Ryan’s house, your dad and I learned what colic sounds like. I gained a new appreciation for single moms, dads, grandparents, etc. For three hours, you scrunched your face, punched your fists and if allowed slightly more hand-eye coordination, you’d have surely given your middle finger to the world. <br />
<br />
Your belly hurt. And you insisted every one of the Rocky Mountain goats heard first hand.<br />
<br />
And while I still have <i>my</i> hearing, I consulted with a financial planner to open a college-savings plan for you. Turns out, your dad and I aren’t saving enough for retirement. So until our finances are in enough shape to keep us eating through our 80s, we’ll open a little savings account for you instead. Never will your dad and I have enough to pay for your entire post-high school education, but we’ll save what we can. You won’t have everything, little boy, but you’ll have everything you need, and even some of what you want. I hear that’s the secret to happiness. <i>Your welcome</i>.<br />
<br />
And speaking of happy, could you wait a couple years before you flirt with the ladies, please? Every time I go anywhere, women stop me in my tracks, asking your name, age, weight, star sign, etc. They practically throw their wedding rings over their left shoulders as you approach. I’m sure this is fun for you, but it makes buying milk an afternoon-long affair for me. <br />
<br />
But at least that afternoon affair is one spent with you. Someday you’ll repay me in cash money. Until then, I'll accept ha-has and tee-hees :)<br />
<br />
Love you,<br />
MamaCall me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-10971241952576800802010-12-21T09:12:00.000-08:002010-12-21T09:15:03.817-08:00I'm dreaming of an un-white ChristmasI missed last Christmas with my family because of weather. Perhaps you remember the holiday storm? Lucky for us, my husband and I are both on leave from work, so we can leave early or stay late if we need to. <br />
<br />
And while I missed the family last year, Cole's due date was Sept. 25. You do the math. (Hi dad *hand trembling*)<br />
<br />
The best Christmas gifts come nine months later. :)Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-63532669780157192272010-12-20T09:24:00.000-08:002010-12-20T09:27:03.299-08:00Raise him up religiousI avoided this topic to avoid hurt feelings, but I feel rascally today, so if you're easily offended, please avoid this post.<br />
<br />
Cole has no religion. At least not yet. This is mostly because his father and I don't attend church.<br />
<br />
Levi and I stem from different religions, but that isn't the trouble. The trouble is Levi was raised mostly without religion and I was raised in a religion I later abandoned. I hesitate to rejoin mine, and Levi is mostly apathetic toward his.<br />
<br />
We want to raise Cole religious though, because we want him to have choice. We want him to learn the difference between Santa and St. Nicholas and Easter and the Easter bunny because it's easier to learn and then ignore rather than not know and learn later. The choice is entirely his, but raising him sans-religion takes some of his options away.<br />
<br />
If I were qualified, I'd teach him about <i>all</i> religions and not limit him to the Christian ones. I don't anticipate Cole facing Mecca when he prays, but if he did, I'd be happy he found faith. Mostly, I just want him to understand and respect other religions. My biggest fear is he'll interchange words like "Muslim" and "terrorist." I want religion to teach him about the world, not teach him to fear it.<br />
<br />
So, in choosing a church, this is what I seek:<br />
* <b>proximity</b>: driving 45 minutes to- and from services isn't likely on Sunday mornings. Attendance is more likely if the church is nearby.<br />
* <b>camaraderie</b>: with any hope, our friends will attend the same church or we'll find people there with whom we can make acquaintance<br />
* <b>openness</b>: a church that uses Jesus to judge others is not appropriate for my family. The church we join will stand firm in its beliefs, but also respects the beliefs of others.<br />
* <b>interactive</b>: if I join a church, I want involvement. I want to take my son to pancake fundraisers and Vacation Bible School. I want him to feel he belongs there.<br />
* <b>knowledge</b>: Cole should feel comfortable asking ministers, pastors, priests, etc., tough questions and when he does, I want him to receive age-appropriate, reasonable answers.<br />
<br />
So, anyone have suggestions? Anyone have this dilemma in their own families?Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-73478818557429343682010-12-18T13:26:00.000-08:002010-12-18T13:26:13.388-08:00Video: This is why people make babiesDec. 17, 2010: Giggles.<br />
<br />
Videos like these are better than Ritalin. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="295" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aIZqPRF7I-k?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aIZqPRF7I-k?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-44602265636695291992010-12-17T07:00:00.000-08:002010-12-17T07:00:05.689-08:00Corn causes cancer?Interesting <a href="http://www.ketv.com/health/25609113/detail.html">read</a> suggesting contaminated corn causes cancer and birth defects. Creighton University, my alma mater, is part of the study.<br />
<blockquote><br />
<i>"The mission is to find out if fungus on a corn-based products increase the risk of having a baby with a neural tube defect, like spina bifida.</i><br />
<br />
<i>...a link has already been established in animals."</i></blockquote>Read the whole story <a href="http://www.ketv.com/health/25609113/detail.html">here</a>.<br />
<br />
Do you know how much corn Americans eat? Teens consume 15 to 20 teaspoons of sugar from the sweetener in high fructose corn syrup alone, according to <a href="http://politics.usnews.com/news/50-ways-to-improve-your-life/articles/2007/12/17/health-reasons-to-cut-back-on-corn-consumption.html">this</a> 2007 U.S. News and World Report article.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>"An unusually high incidence of the birth defects has been observed in Guatemala, where corn is a dietary staple and contamination is frequent."</i> <i><br />
</i></blockquote><br />
As if we parents didn't have enough reason to worry...Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2308886060680690535.post-75525810889014609962010-12-16T10:41:00.000-08:002010-12-16T10:41:59.906-08:00Video: Cole speaksCole's chatter is incessant these days, which is OK because it's kind of cute. I like to think he's proclaiming his love for his mother, but given he smiles only for his father, I suppose that's not quite true.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><object height="289" width="470"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NRi48YuJnKU?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NRi48YuJnKU?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="470" height="289"></embed></object></div>Call me Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09981338961460779112noreply@blogger.com1