Katchie

As a kid, we spent a lot of time in Pecos, Texas, visiting my grandparents and uncle. I remember always being so proud whenever my cousin Katchie came by. She was clearly the life of the party. I could hear family talking excitedly about whether or not Katchie would be there. It was a guarantee that everyone would have an above average share of laughs. I liked her a lot myself, but also, I remember being so proud that she was named Katherine, too, and I was named after her. How cool, I thought, to be named after someone that everyone likes so much. I would later find out I was named after lots of Katherines in the family, but she was the one I knew and liked best.

When I was probably 12 or 13, Katchie invited me to come stay with her for a week one summer. Although I was excited to have been invited, I was a budding teenager (therefore moody and hormonal) as well as a little shy. While I loved Katchie and loved sitting on the floor across from her as she sat next to Ranny on the big blue couch on Hackberry, I was a little afraid to be away from home staying at her house instead of with Ranny and Papa. It was a really nice week. She let me watch all the Nick and Night I wanted (obviously way cooler than my mother) and she chaperoned me about town as her namesake. I was also so intrigued about how bold she was to have a good friend in Governor Ann Richards, the (gasp!) Democratic governor I knew my parents and grandparents did not approve of.

As a college student and then an adult, my visits to Pecos began to dwindle. But I knew we would always have a good time when we came for Christmas. A party at the Faulkners, Christmas Eve service at St. Mark's Episcopal followed by dinner at Katchie's with Christmas at at Katchie's followed by Christmas dinner at Ranny's. I always loved that she served Mexican food for Christmas dinner (which was also excellent). It was so Katchie to think beyond the traditional institutions.

Katchie herself was an institution herself. She will be missed.

Pictures

Meg and I are headed to Dallas, then Midland then Pecos and back again over the next four days. Bjorn and Andy are staying home this time. The boys will be fine, but Andy's old enough that he cried about not getting to see his cousin Megan. I must admit, that was a good reason.

It will be interesting just flying and traveling with one kid again, especially with a 19-month-old. I know I thought Andy was so big and grown up at this age, but I certainly don't look at Meg that way. Yet. Or ever, perhaps. I do understand why people call their youngest "Baby" forever.

Here are some recent pictures.

Andy is obsessed with climbing trees right now.
Mark and his roommate Thomas at their new off-campus house at ODU.

Meg being totally adorable.

Salon day

I took Meg to get her first official haircut today. I have trimmed it here and there over the past nearly 19 months, but it was time to get all of it cleaned up a little and her bangs trimmed. I'll admit I was nervous about it. Fortunately she handled it like a champ. She got lollipop that wasn't even that interesting for her. Rather she sort of skeptically sat there with me touching her leg through all five minutes. Quite a big girl.

Andy was very sweet about the whole thing. He kept trying to distract and reassure her. I don't think she needed it, but it made my heart well up a little.

Speaking of welling up, my cousin Katchie died last night. I say cousin generically as I believe she's my mother's first cousin. We spent a lot of time with her growing up and I have great memories of her houses in Pecos where she usually hosted everyone after church on Christmas Eve. We also spent some great holidays at her house in Ruidoso, N.M., where my grandfather taught us various card games that we played for hours in the hopes of winning the $50 pot.

I have seen much less of her as I got older. The combination of not going to Pecos for holidays anymore combined with her inability to travel and the complication of pregnancies and little people was a big deterrent. I did get out to see her a few years ago. My mom and I caught a Southwest flight from Dallas and just went to see the Pecos crowd for the day. She was a fantastic cousin and I was always very proud to say I was named after her (I believe my mother wisely named me Katherine after family on both sides, however, I was always proudest of my Katchie connection.)

Katchie has been unwell for a long time, particularly in the past week so it wasn't a surprise, but I'm sad all the same. My older sister was the hero of the hospital by going out to Midland to be with her at the end and I'm really proud of her for it. I can only hope that when my time comes there is much love (and Scotch) to go around.

The things they say

Andy came home from school the other day singing the one little, two little, three little Indians song. You know it, "One little, two little, three little Indians, four little, five little, six little Indians, seven little eight little, nine little Indians, ten little Indian boys." I started to sing along with him.

"No, Mommy. It's ENGLANDS, not INDIANS."

I haven't figured out if that's the political correct way to sing it now or a honest mistake. Cracks me up either way.

Holy sleep regression

Meg is going through some sort of phase at the moment where she cries and shrieks at bedtime and naptime. It started Thursday night and has happened every night since then. Naptime today was so painful I finally had to put her in the car and drive around for 10 minutes and she was out, then made the transfer and had to be woken up at 4:30. With a baby, this sort of stuff is expected, but in a 18 1/2 month old?

Part of it is the cats' fault. She got freaked out that the cat was in her closet so when I noticed the shrieking, which is highly unusual for my normally good sleeper, I went in and sure enough, one of the cats was there (and dying to get out). That first night, Thursday night, nothing we did worked and she even threw up a little either due to the intensity of it or catching herself just right. Because of that, we didn't feel right laying her back down to cry. Then we tried everything -- holding her, cuddling, water, you name it. We ended up bringing her to bed with us until about 1:30 when my back hurt so bad I had to move her back to her bed. That stint in our bed was probably the main error of our ways.

Jennifer put her to bed last night while we went to the movies and had a similar, but not quite as bad experience. Tonight was particularly terrible -- nearly 40 minutes of shrieking -- not crying, no shrieking. Bjorn finally went in and held her until she fell asleep -- at 10:15 p.m. I suppose if this keeps up, we're going to have to go back to Dr. Ferber and just let her cry it out. The problem is that she's older and has more resources to throw at me, like shrieking.

Suggestions on the 18-month sleep regression, other than more wine for mommy?

Pictures

Meg likes the pool, but prefers to wear her swimsuit like this. Next year I'm getting her a different style. I don't think she likes it around her neck. That or she prefers to show her chest.

Everyone in the house loves Wii. Even Meg has her own Mii now. Here she is getting her first body test. I think her Wii Fit age was 12. Random.

The big tree branch that fell during last week's storm. Since then, we've had at least 10 different tree people stop by trying to offer their services. We're getting an arborist out next week to make sure to rebalance it so it doesn't crash on the house next time.

A picture during Cousin P.J.'s visit. I've been a little slow to upload lately. Kodak EasyShare Gallery is proving anything but easy for me right now.

Apparently boys must start comparing early as witnessed as I got the boys ready for a bath.

Meg looks so much like Bjorn in his glasses. It cracks me up.

Seriously, is the just the most adorable right now? She is also so close to talking that it makes it so much better for me when we can actually communicate.

Is this what I'm going to be listening to for the next 15 years?

Andy's vocabulary has expanded into a few phrases I fear I will be hearing a lot of from the two of them, oh, forever probably.

"This is boring."
"I never get to do anything."
"You're not my friend."

It's hilarious as well as totally irritating.

Meg is also a fantastic mimic right this minute. She's not exactly talking, but she will say the most surprising and spot on things. Like I swear the other night Bjorn and Andy were playing Wii and then we hear, "I want to play," as clear as day. We all looked at each other and then her. Naturally she didn't say it again, but she's sure getting close. Andy's wrong, it's not boring at all.

Holy tree branch and an 18-month check up

Meg had her 18 month check up on Friday. The little rascal is growing perfectly and seems right on target for her age on all accounts. She got two shots that she did not appreciate, but she got two lollipops which she did like. I don't think she's consider it a fair trade, but it was something. Fortunately, that's the last of the vaccinations except for the flu shot until Kindergarten (good thing Andy can't read yet to know what's coming next year).

Weight: 27 pounds, 7 ounces (90-95th percentile)
Height: 33 1/2 inches (90th percentile)

If you take her height and double it, that's 67 inches and following the old wives' tale of doubling their height at two, you get their height as adults, that makes her 5 foot, 7 inches -- Bjorn is already planning her basketball career. Indeed by Egan standards that makes her a giant. I have a theory that Andy will be 5' 10" and Meg will be 5' 9". I'm okay with that.

We talked about the UTI. She said from now on, any time she has an unexplained fever to bring her in for a check. If she gets another UTI, then we'll likely have to go in for some type of sonogram to make sure the kidneys are working properly. She said with one UTI after an event like diarrhea, it's probably just isolated, but we definitely need to keep an eye out. As for her ears, the advice is to keep our fingers crossed for a good fall free of ear infections. Otherwise, tubes here we come.

In other exciting news, the electrical storm that blew through around midnight snapped one of the big branches off our big tree out front (check my Facebook profile for some pics until I get them uploaded here). It took Mark, Bjorn and several neighbors all morning to chop it up to get it out of the road. They also put a lot of the branches in bundles with twine so the trash folks will take it (hopefully). We also need to call an arborist to come check out the tree and let us know if it has been compromised and in need of more work. Any recommendations?