here you go kids,
pleasantlyinclined is up, but no so pretty, just yet.

In one way or another, I have been a popular stranger for about 5 years now. And I bet, I will continue to be one for quite a while longer. That said, I feel like this blog has come to an end. Okay, Okay. As you can probably see from my lack of posts lately, it came to an end a while ago.

I don’t need generality, I need focus. I like the process of writing, and I think the ability to write well is a great asset for any person to have, regardless of your profession. I’ve wanted to write for a while now, but just couldn’t force myself to write on my blog as it is now.

All that to say, I am going to continue to blog. I have an idea and I’m working on it (i.e. John is waiting for me to write this good bye post before he finishes the design of the new one). I am a girl that strives for change. Keep me in the same position for more than an hour and I get antsy. Try to convince me that there’s only one way to arrange the furniture and I’ll try my hardest to prove you wrong (even if hours and sore arms later, I will concede to your original conviction).

If I’ve been so lucky to have stayed on your blog rolls, keep me on there just a little while longer. I’ll have a new address for you soon.

This past week, John took off to Texas for SXSW, and since I would have to take off work to hang with the Cos- anyway, we decided to go visit the SMWB down south.
It was a good trip and I couldn’t believe, when I woke up at 6 this morning, that I actually had to go to work. It was a idea that was very foreign to me…having to dress in non-casual outfits and go wait for a bus in the dark. I eventually bucked up and here I sit. Coffee in hand and ready to work. In a minute… after I finish this post.
So yeah – we went to Florida. I was pretty excited about the trip. There really is no one I’d rather be with if I have to be without John, than with the SMWB. I envisioned long nights with numerous smoke breaks interspersed with laughter. When we’re together, there’s always laughter.
After the first night, the boy got a tickle in his throat and hardly ever went out to smoke – which was fine because his girlfriend, she’s a world class smoker.
But the long nights were there. There were multiple episodes of “That 70s show” and several hours of basketball. The last night I was there, we watched High Fidelity.
And the laughter. Really, you should hear the amounts of laugther that can be heard when we are together.
Anyway. Even though I was really excited about the trip, I was hesitant on a couple of levels.
One – John pretty much takes care of putting Cosi to bed each night and of everything I could be worried about taking a trip alone with my 10 month old daughter – this was it. This was what I was most afraid of. But all in all, it wasn’t too bad. I was blessed to be around a couple that really didn’t seem to mind hearing cries come from behind a closed door.
Two – I’m not very good at sharing. And I’ve had my friend to myself for quite a few years now. And now he’s got a girlfriend that he practically lives with and what she wants and thinks will probably (and rightfully) be more important to him. You’ve heard before that the only way to get someone over the fear of the water is to throw them in the middle of the lake so that they have to swim back to you… Halfway through the week, the girfriend had a bit of traumatic thing happen to her….or to one of her friends. I won’t go into details, but it seemed to be a pretty big thing for her. She apologized profusely for this event being such a big focus all week long. What I told her is this: I’m kind of glad it happened while I was there. Let me explain a little. When my mom comes to visit, she always says she doesn’t want to do anything big and fancy. She just wants to follow us in our daily activities. She wants to see what we do everyday. And on top of that, she wants to see the good and the bad. I’ve waited so long for Eric to find a girl he feels like he can attach to – can trust, can take care of without feeling weighed down. So what good would it be for me to only see the good things that happen. Seeing how the SMWB and his girlfriend reacted to each other when she was down and depressed – that helped me see how his life in Florida is…just as much as seeing him glue sequins on an drink umbrella as he interacted with 15 or so of his schoolmates.
So all in all, it really was a good trip. I got to eat barbeque, I walked thru at least a quarter mile of junk and I made a diorama.
But I am glad it’s over. It was amazingly comforting sleeping next to my CPH last night.

Last night I had a dream. And in that dream, I was flying. This isn’t really anything new. I have many dreams in which I can fly. But, almost always, I’m flying away from some sort of danger. The only reason I fly in dreams is to get away. But not this time. Lots of events led up to part where I was flying. I was walking around what looked like a designer store with army and navy prices. Despite the low prices, I couldn’t really find anything I liked, until I started to walk out the front door and noticed over in the corner a pile of things that were free for the taking. In that pile was a handmade doll-bed that looked a little more contemporary than the one my father made me (and sits in Cosi’s room holding her toys). The most fascinating thing about this doll-bed, though, was that it had the same dark blue with light flowers mattress as the doll-bed that I’ve had since I was such a young little girl. How perfect, I thought, that Cosi and I would have the same mattress in our respective doll-beds.
I went over to the counter to make sure that the bed was, in fact, free. I decided on my way to the counter that I would pay up to 25 dollars, but as I walked up and asked, no one would pay attention to my question. It was as if I wasn’t there at all. So I ran back over to the pile, picked up the doll-bed and walked out the door.
As soon as I walked out the door, I saw John with a little boy and they were holding eggs in their hands. They were talking and making a plan of attack. Their intentions were to throw the eggs at a second story window in building from which I had emerged. At first, I was horrified – knowing full well they would get in trouble if they continued. Then, somehow, I knew it was okay. Somehow, I knew that the person standing behind that window wanted eggs thrown at him. And I realized they were not attacking, but simply obliging. I sat down my doll-bed and grabbed an egg. Throwing that egg at that window was such a satisfying act!
I think at this time, I was awoken by something. The next thing I remember is looking out the window of a very tall building. I saw John and the little boy walking far away from the egg-covered building. I looked down to the spot where they were and (EGADS) saw my doll-bed sitting there. I had forgotten it when I sat it down to throw the egg.
I opened the window and jumped out. I guess I figured the fastest way to get to my doll-bed was to fly. I am such an accomplished dream-flyer, that it surprised me that I had to work at swimming through the air. My eyes were focused on the doll-bed, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little girl with golden curls pass horizontically in front of me in flight. I recognized her and smiled. Then I saw her mom flying towards her. I looked down to the left of my doll-bed and behind some shrubs and I saw people square-dancing.
And in my heart, I knew I was in heaven. Where my daughter and I have matching mattresses for doll-beds, and eggs thrown at windows are requested, and square-dancing happens all the time.

Six months ago, we had to let Cosi fall asleep while crying. It was the only way it would work. Or we didn’t know any better. Anyhow, it worked, so we did it.
Three months ago, we discovered that if John held her and rocked her before putting her in her crib, she didn’t cry. She would normally lay there for a few minutes and then fall right asleep. And she would sleep for gloriously long amounts of time. Sometimes she would wake up at 4 in the morning and John would find her pacifier for her, stick it in and back to sleep she would go.
Now, oh. Now. She goes to sleep when John puts her down. And she stays asleep for maybe 1 hour. 1 hour, people. Then, the next two hours are spent trying to get her to calm down. But most of the time, she still stays asleep. But oh, how frustrating those two hours are.
Last night, John went to see a movie with a friend and I was (intermittently) watching some tv. Or was it watching tv and intermittently crying in frustration.
And I know it’ll be over soon and I’ll sit back and think: Hey – Remember that crazy time when Cosi was 9 months old but was totally acting like a newborn. Good times, eh?

Thanks to the brilliant husband (mine, not yours), I am reposting something that I did not mean to delete.

Legacy (as written on Thursday, January 25th)
John, Cosi and I have spent the last two days in a small town in northcentral Wisconsin. Our time there was really sad, but good. At least that’s what our friend M* kept telling us as he would cry and lean in for a big hug. M*’s dad had been sick with cancer for a while now and finally gave up the glorious fight on Saturday night. John talked to M* the morning after his dad passed away and after he hung up the phone, he described our dear friend as congested, but relieved. We headed up north on Tuesday morning and headed back home not even 36 hours later. Our time there was short, but I am so glad we got to be there. You see, I learned something pretty significant while I was there.
Sometimes, I’ll sneak into Cosi’s room after she’s fallen asleep. I’ll stand over her crib and pull down the covers just a little bit so I can see her sweet smiling face. And most of the time, I’ll stand there wishing I knew what to pray. I want to be a mother who prays for her daughter. But as a person who finds it hard to pray about anything at all, I’ve had a difficult time.
As I lay in bed last night, going over all the emotions in my head and heart and finding it hard to fall asleep, I finally realized what it is I want for my daughter. I ran into her room and stood over her crib and whispered these words
“Please help me mold my baby girl into a woman, who when we die, has friends that will travel across the world (or even 6 hours) to honor the man and woman who helped to make her the way that she is”.
But as I read over that prayer, it almost sounds conceited. And I guess this prayer is more a prayer for me than it is for her. I want to be the type of mother and I hope that John is the type of father that does make Cosi a good friend to others. I want her to smell of honesty. I want her to not be afraid to crumble like a little baby into her friends arms when she is hurting, but also someone who will stand strong when someone needs to lean.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hope and pray that I can be like M*’s dad and that when I die, you would only have to look at my kids to know what kind of person I truly was.

James did this first.

Before Cosi:

2 day old Cosi:

1 month old Cosi:

2 month old Cosi:

3 month old Cosi:

4 month old Cosi:

5 month old Cosi:

6 month old Cosi:

7 month old Cosi:

Almost eight months!:

I can’t believe how fast this little girl is growing up. Last night, she finally achieved something she had been working extra hard at all day long. We were at our weekly dinner and she was on her tummy and she just pulled herself up into a sitting position. Of course, this was only minutes after Asher had sat up from lying on his back and she thought, “oh no, i’m not letting that boy show me up!”

You know how to hold my hand,
You know how to make me mad,
You know everything about me.
I remember, when we first got together that I liked to use the word wonderful a lot. Because that’s what I was – full of wonder. But not like that starry-eyed wonder; it was more like me wondering if you liked french toast better than pancakes. Now I don’t wonder so much. I know.
We’ve been together longer,
Than most of our friends have,
It’s true. Before we moved up north, we were the old married couple. Even here, only a few surpass us in years.
But they don’t know that it’s not always a party.
While it’s true that they do find it odd to hear that we have fights, they believe us when we re-inact them.

But you just put your arms around me,
And I let go of all my anxiety,
You know youre my lazy boy recliner.
From the very beginning, I’ve commented on how wonderfully cuddlesome we are. When I’m sad, I want your arms around me. When I’m scared, I reach for you. When I’m happy, I wrap my arms under yours and we jump up and down. When I’m mad, you reach for me, and most of the time, I can’t help but take hold.

I really don’t mind being this comfortable.

One more to ten, baby.

1. Get to know my neighbors better. Not just the Reddeemer-ites, but people like the renters across the street.
2. Take more girl time. Go across the street for a manicure. Invite the girls out to a movie once a month, that sort of thing.
3. Visit the Y at least once a week. This will be easy for February since Cosi and I start her first swim lessons that month (!!)

Last year was a big one, with Cosi coming into view and all. Here’s to the next one, whatever it may bring us.

I was just searching through my gmail looking for the name of the drawing pad (mmmmmmm) that I’d like to have one day. But instead of finding the link above, I found an email instead. An email that made me cry like a little baby.
Almost, but not quite, two years ago, I sent an email to a dear friend. I was newly pregnant and I was worried because I had just gone to the bathroom and noticed some spotting. I emailed this friend because she had gone through a miscarriage and I needed her advice. The conversation was long, but not overly so and in it she said that she was starting a novena for me and my unborn baby.
And in less that one month it was over. We had lost our first baby to miscarriage.
Now, while re-telling this makes me horribly, horribly sad. I can’t help but smile when I think of the daughter I now have, sitting on our floor at home, playfully spitting at her Daddy while he tries to change her diaper.
I hardly ever understand why anything big ever happens to me, but I can’t help but be thankful. For the good things and for the bad. Because I can’t help but think – without losing the first, I wouldn’t have a Cosi Bear here with me now.

Larry was a regular at our old house on Fletcher. He was an energetic little mouse, who always spoke in louder and bigger words than he could ever amount to. Whenever I would type out what he would say (he would speak for me sometimes), I would type it out in all big letters and it reminded me of Owen Meany. When we moved, we had to leave poor Larry behind.

Just this past week, we met his tiny gray cousin. Mary had been told by her cousin, Larry that we Beeler’s are real good landlords. She’s gotten real cozy in the kitchen, but hasn’t really made it out and about into other parts of the house. Which is fine and dandy with us. We tried to catch her the other night, but tiny apparently means faster than John. She came out while I was making cookies the other night and I tried to tell her that we would promise not to kill her; that we just wanted to catch her so we could put her somewhere else. She laughed and ran the other direction.

As part of a contest that’s running on Etsy right now, I re-created Mary for all to see ( you know, just in case you were wondering).

Ok, so hopefully this will serve as initiation-booster in the arts and crafts area of my life. One smart lady over at Etsy had this great idea to start a group of people who wanted to create one piece of art a day for the whole next year. And because I need one more thing to do in my life, I said yes!

I’ve even started (not completed, but started) a blog about it and here is the flickr group.

Go craftiness, go!

Amy and I were just talking (big surprise).
She was saying how she’s been missing her dad something terrible lately. She figures it has something to do with the fact that her sister’s serious boyfriend just lost his dad to a car accident. This morning I was also feeling sentimental. I had read about this horrible thing and I thought to myself – man, I’m so glad that John isn’t a heavy drinker. After reading the article, I just wanted to go home and hug him and tell him how much I really do appreciate everything little thing he does.
Of course, that’s not to say I don’t get annoyed. I mean, seriously, who doesn’t get annoyed? But the way he loves me – the way he tells me, even when I don’t say a word, on those days when I just don’t like the way I look, that I look amazing – the way I catch glimpses of him peeking over to my side of the car as we’re driving with the windows rolled down – the way he constantly asks how my day is going, even though he knows my answer will be “alright”.
And I could go on and on about the way he interacts with our little girl. I am constantly amazed at the love that comes out of him for her. I mean, he gave up his career for her. How much love is that?
Gushy, Gush, Gush.

I’ve felt overwhelmed lately. I’m having a hard time doing anything without first being asked or reminded. It makes me feel horrible, and I know I need to get better at it.
I’ve even gone as far as putting alarms in my phone to alert me about things I need to remember to do.
I promise you it’s not that I don’t want to do these things. Like I said, I feel horrible. But for some reason, I just can’t seem to get myself motivated enough to do the things I want to. Including posting.
Yep, just added another alarm.
Christmas time is coming fast. I’m trying to pin John down to take a family photo. I get really frustrated with him because he feels it’s very important to take a non-traditional, cooler-than-target-photo-place-picture. But what I’d rather have happen is this, take a picture of us four on the couch to appease me until you get the “cool” picture planned and taken. Because non-cool reality is much more pleasing in the sight of grandparents than dreamed about artistic photographs.
When we moved this summer, we realized quickly (ha.ha. quickly meaning the 3 months that it took us to unpack all of our boxes) that we have way too much crap. So, in order to stop the vicious cycle, i sent out a friendly reminder to anyone I thought might be buying us a Christmas present that we really would prefer non-material gifts this year for Christmas. Correspondingly, we (I) have decided I only want to buy non-material gifts for others. It’s been fun, but very challenging.
I had to give John his present early since it’s happening this weekend. We’re going to Chicago for an Oilers game. Can’t wait. There’s almost nothing I love more (I’m being serious here) than watching my husband’s eyes light up when the hockey puck goes on the ice. And then, because I looked away from the rink, I lose the hockey puck and it takes me like five minutes to find it again. They really should use something bigger.

Allrecipes is sending out a cookie recipe a day for the whole month of December and I couldn’t be happier.
Okay, except for the fact that I get to go see Josie Michelle for the first time tomorrow. Heather has been waiting for such a long time for this little baby and I couldn’t be happier for her.

And proud of her, too! When Molly was born 5 years ago, Heather didn’t even think twice about giving her baby girl formula. But now because, as she says, “she’s more health-minded”, she’s really giving this breastfeeding thing a go.
And it’s hard. Boy, don’t I know it. It’s kind of funny, actually – when Heather calls me crying because Josie won’t wake up to eat or will just cry when she tries to feed her – and all those emotions come back to me and I feel like a survivor. And I want to tell my friend that it all gets better in the end. Doesn’t it?

Cosi Bear,
Yesterday marked a very special event. 6 months ago, a whole half a year away, your daddy and I became known as Cosette’s parents. I have to tell you it’s one of my most favorite titles.
Before you were born, we didn’t know if we were going to have a boy or a girl. Things like this can’t be decided by us but what we did decide is to wait until you came out to find out if you were a boy or a girl. I have to be honest here. We thought, both your daddy and I, for sure that we were going to have a boy. See – We both really wanted our first baby to be a girl and because we were always taught that you can’t always have what you want – we really thought we were going to have a boy. A friend of ours – you call her Aunt Liz- is a very smart woman and she insisted we were going to have a little girl. She said that with all the little boys that were going to be born (she was speaking of the other parts of the Fantastic Four) that there would have to be a girl in the mix. But we weren’t swayed. We kept thinking we were going to have a boy.
Here’s your first lesson in expectations, Bear. Just go ahead and really hope for what you really want. Because if you don’t and you do get what you really want – You’re going to be really confused for a couple of days. When you first came out, the doctor held you up really high so your daddy could announce your gender to the room. And when she did, your daddy was really confused. He may deny it now, but his first thought was “oh my god, that boy doesn’t have a p(*)nis”(You don’t know what that is right now, but you will someday). And he kept calling you a boy. Just for the first couple of hours, but we all thought it was really funny. Then I made the mistake of asking the doctor when you would be circumsized. Again, you don’t really understand why this is funny, but believe me it was.

When you get older, you may hear stories about how strong and brave and amazing your momma was when you were coming out of her. While I am real proud of myself for going through it all without a lick of pain medication, let me tell you this. The most amazing thing was how much help and strength that your Momma got from y0ur family. Your Granny Jo and your Daddy were there pretty much the whole time. And Grandmum and Mammie helped out too. Grandpa was there too, but he pretty much stayed out of the room, ready to talk your Daddy’s stress and fear away whenever he needed it. So know this, you may be applauded for something someday and no matter how much it looks like you did this amazing and wonderful thing all by yourself – there is no way you could have done it completely alone.
When you first started moving around inside of me, I read online somewhere that you were just the size of a banana. Later on, when you’re able to read, you might read things about you in which you are referred to as Banana Beeler. It was a good name for a time. Since you’ve been born we haven’t called you Banana once. Other names you have been known as are Crab Ass Cosette, Cosi Bear, Cosi Pod, and Cos-arilla (it’s your alter ego). When I was about 10, I hated my nickname. So I decided to give you many to choose from to hate. You are so very lucky.
So here you are – halfway to one year. I just can’t believe you’ve been here that long. I sit here and I try to think of all the things you’ve done and all the things that you’re so close to being able to do and I am awestruck. I used to be afraid of you getting older. I used to think that you progressing meant that I was progressing closer to death – and I have to say that scared me a little. But now, I look forward to every day. Because every day you get a day older and I get a day older and we do it together.

Well, this much is true. I do not agree with the majority of the state of Indiana about whom should be my representation. It’s alright. I figured as much. But I did think for a minute last night, man, I wish I could have gotten some of these right!
It was quite an exciting election for me. First time that I did so much research and felt as informed as possible.
Go me!

She had no idea what was going on and, for that, we almost considered not even messing with it. But we did it for the grandparents (initially) and we were so glad we did.
There are plans in the works now for john to dress as elliot, cosi as e.t. (in a basket in the front of his bike) and me in a hazmat suit (or maybe gertie) chasing after them.
Look for that, dude, because it will be awe.some.

In the meantime, go here for this year’s escapade.