HALLA!!!-daze!

I'm writing this post under duress. At this very moment Sam and Leah are at Target, skipping down the aisles, hand in hand, tossing loot into that big red basket to their little hearts' desire, and I'm sitting here, looking over my shoulder every five seconds, trembling and terrified, at a tiny sleeping giant who is starting to stir--promising to ruin my little bit of heaven with this blog post of mine. My nerves are shot.

Just look at her--pretending to be all serene and lovely:

Don't let her fool you. One false move and she'll hand you your *expletive* on a platter. And she's not afraid to fight dirty:

Sam's chest is like cat nip to her... she becomes a complete loon. Just look at the crazy in her eyes. It should be noted, there were blood curdling screams emanating from both Eve AND Sam as this picture was taken.

In any case, I'm under contract to get the glamourous Palmer Family Twenty Ten Holiday Extravaganza (said in Bob Barker voice) documented, so I'll selflessly continue pecking away at my computer until Eve awakens and lops off my head.

Ahem!

Thanksgiving this year was a dining fiesta of gargantuan proportions. We celebrated with our fellow business school compadres who I can say, may as well be family. I felt particularly honored to be a part of this meal because we were certain that I would be in the hospital or just recovering from delivery and would miss the grand event. But Eve knows I take my Turkey Day seriously, so she graciously stayed put until I could sufficiently stuff my face.

Just look at this spread:

Muy dilicioso!

Not sure why Sam thought Thanksgiving was an appropriate time to tell Matt he just wanted to be friends. You can just see the contempt on Matt's face. Trying so hard to remain composed. It was awkward for all involved.

Notice the lack of conversing in this photo. Shoveling. Just shoveling.

Matt completed his final rite of passage into manhood as this year's Turkey Master. This exempted him from participating in the post-dinner "feats of strength," where the remaining men were made to prove themselves as manly as him. They failed. Turns out nothing's manlier than a motorized knife.

The men, talking about men things. And feeding the babies.

Leah takes her turkey day feasting seriously. Only the most committed of holiday diners remove their clothing. This allows for maximum unencumbered stomach expansion. She learned this from her father... who was sitting in the buff just out of camera shot.

Thanksgiving was excellent. In fact, sometimes I cry thinking about it. Mostly just because I'm on my post-baby deprivation diet.

On to Christmas!

Extremely uneventful. Just our little family---Oh and the greedy, raging hooch who possessed Leah after she opened all of her holiday bounty. It was super fun listening to her demanding more presents and snapping her fangs at anyone who attempted to touch any of her loot. We called her "Steroid Lyza."

We decided to venture out of our cave and go to Cheesecake Factory for Christmas Eve dinner. Way festive. This is the single, solitary photo that was taken... aside from an unflattering shot of me nursing Eve that Sam took. These two are pretty cute, though. And I believe Sam is about to intervene in a stealth french-fry swipe attempt with a judo chop.

Christmas morning. The only presents that got wrapped and made it under the tree were for Leah. Lots of energy these days, folks!

The aftermath:

After all the paper was cleaned up and the toys were hidden from Steroid Lyza, Leah came back to play and she and Sam engaged in some sophisticated fort building.

And finally the Turkey Sub returned to her regular self... specializing in being cute.

And sexy...

George Costanza anyone? Anyone?

The highlight of the day was Leah and Eve's surprise present to Sam and me:

We had absolutely no idea they had been planning all along to fall asleep at the same time. The little stinkers! So thoughtful. Sam and I went freaking crazy for 20 whole minutes all by ourselves. Best. Gift. Ever.

And finally New Years!

Pretty much consisted of a killer party with friends... that lasted til 7:30PM. Cause we're hard core like that.

Please excuse the poor quality of the pictures. Leah changed a setting on my camera that I can't seem to be able to change back. And it made me less than inspired about picture taking so there are only a few.

Anyway, we're so crazy, even the missionaries come to OUR parties:

There was a pinata:

Topped off with some drawer filling:

Some sleeping:

Great food and great company. It may look innocent, but Lisa's face tells a different story. Complete debauchery, my friends.

Oh, and a New Year's Kiss between Sam and me that was TOO HOT FOR TV! And may or may not have been an afterthought once we got in bed. And Sam may have been asleep already. Creepy?

I'll wrap things up with a rare photo of Lil' Tuna, both awake AND happy. Isn't she lovely?

This Holiday Season was memorable and great. I may have ended up getting a big reality slap in the face, because my plans were a little ambitious for having a newby on hand, but it was wonderful nonetheless. Hope you all had a fab finale to your 2010! Thanks for reading.

Eve Overload

I have a severe case of postpartum brain mush, but I have lots of pictures to make up for it! Lil' Tuna has been an absolute slice of heaven since her arrival, so I had no choice but to take a million shots of her from slightly different angles and post them all here for your viewing pleasure.

This was actually the third of this exact same pose. Leah kept saying, "One more time to give kisses." You'll notice Eve making her "about to leach on to Leah's cheek in a rooting attack" face.

Big eyes...

Leah has been only mildly interested in Eve, which makes things pretty easy for me. Though, she does feverishly rub her head whenever she gets the chance.

The stuff my dreams are made of...

This sight has struck terror in the hearts of mothers and fathers across our apartment no less than six hundred times since bringing Eve home from the hospital. Curse you, Eve-sized baby doll impostor.

Taking Grammy to the airport. Leah is going through withdrawals already.

Contemplating the world....

And finally, my own little milkmaid. So helpful and selfless.

More pictures to come--and a million other updates---once my brain has returned to its normal form.

Over the Moon!

She has arrived!!! Sunday, November, 28th 2010 at 6:27PM, Eve Sophia made her glorious and dramatic debut--pretty much improving conditions around the world for everyone in general. Well, with the exception of her elder sister, who, amidst moments of doting and cooing over our new little bundle, has been feeling quite put out. Cool your jets, Little Leah, you'll soon realize there is nothing in life better than sisters.

I'll start with some pictures. She is perfect and delicious, after all.

She tipped the scales at a whooping 6lbs 7oz. So tiny.

The Turkey Sub asked immediately in her highest, sweetest voice if she could hold baby and I've never witnessed so much cheesy goodness watching her kissing her little sister's head and saying, "oooh, she's so cute!" and touching her face and loving her up a storm.

Tired Dad.

There is nothing quite so excellent and preposterous as these teeny new babes all strapped in to their huge car seats. Getting ready to head home from the hospital.

Now, for those of you who are interested, let's get down to the nitty gritty. I will say, the birth of this little one didn't turn out quite as I had planned. On Sunday morning I started having contractions and labored at home until 3:00PM, when Sam and I left Leah and Grammy at home and headed off to the hospital. To our surprise, upon arriving, I was already dilated to 6 cm. The nurse was like, "What on earth have you been doing to manage your pain?!" My response was obvious, "Well, I'm pretty much awesome."

At that point they checked me in and I immediately started shouting around for an epidural. Those of you who know me, know I don't pretend to be brave or gracious about childbirth. Which is precisely what made this next part so horrifying.

"Alright Vanessa, we've got some bad news, there's someone ahead of you for an epidural so it's going to be a bit. We can give you some intravenous meds to take the edge off in the mean time..."

My contractions were getting unbearable, so I enthusiastically agreed to any kind of relief. My midwife came in to check me before administering the pain killers... to her surprise, I was dilated to 9cm. And then, in what can only be described as the slow-motion voice of Satan, she looked at me and said,

"NOOO MEDICINE FOOOORR YYYOOOOUU!!!!"

Then she threw her head back in maniacal laughter.

At that moment, my world came crashing down around me. I didn't hold back. I shouted "WhaAAAT!?!!" and started objecting and kicking at the nurses and attempting escape.

She grabbed my face, her red eyes burning into mine, and said, "Listen to me, Vanessa! It's too late, it's not safe to take any medicine, you're having this baby right now!"

Now, I know some of you may think I'm being dramatic, but I need to make it clear that the thought of natural childbirth has always been horrifying and preposterous to me. Like, signing up to have your leg amputated without any anesthesia. Or agreeing to get punched in the face everyday. Just for fun. Like, not even a consideration. Ever. I don't care that women have done it since the beginning of time, or that our bodies were made to do it. I literally felt like I was being sentenced to torture. And there was nothing I could do about it. And I was sure my granola midwife had plotted it that way all along.

The next five minutes were so chaotic and ridiculous I can't even think about them without laughing and crying at the same time. I was angry and terrified... and still shouting out futile objections... and the next thing I knew, the table was collapsed and I screamed, "She's cooooming!!!" and then something like, "I think I'm peeing!" and in one push, one EXCRUCIATING push, this lil' Tuna came shooting out. Literally, shooting out. Like, she got air.

And then I heard her sweet little newby cry, and everything was right in the world. I felt immediately overcome with love and endorphins and everything good. And I forgave everyone in the room, thanked them for getting my new little loaf here safely, and apologized for all the names I'd called them... except for my widwife, who I still hate.

BUT, I will say, Eve is the sweetest, most delectable little angel baby and I'd easily go through her delivery 100 times over to get her here. So far, my adjustment to two, with the help of my mama and glorious husby, has been peaceful and lovely.

I can't wait for you to meet her.