Ok, so it’s cold, right? There’s snow, right? Well, in Portland, snow always turns to freezing rain and that’s when things get ugly.

Last night, the freezing rain started. It coated cars, houses, and trees. Added to the rain were huge wind gusts that shook our little house to it’s foundation. After putting the bambino to bed, Kevin & I headed upstairs. Now, our bedroom is a converted attic so the ceiling is really the roof. As we lay there, listening to the wind, we heard a new sound.

The sound of ice clad branching creaking in the wind.

Yes, that big old elm tree on the side of the house was making some very scary noised. This tree is huge. Probably 50 years old. We had it trimed earlier in the fall and the trimmers botched the job and just butchered the tree. What was once a huge, many limbed tree had been reduced to a few, totally exposed branches. And, of course, these weak branches were now covered in ice and being whipped by the wind. It didn’t take a arborist to know that they were coming down.

Neither Kevin nor I really wanted to be sleeping upstairs when the branches snapped and hit the roof so we packed up the bedding and headed into the living room. Kevin inflated the aerobed and there we curled up, listening for the inevitable.

Around 2am it started. First a loud pop follow by a crack and then a bang as the branch hit our roof and slid down. Finally, a huge crackle-bash when it toppled off the roof and hit the ground. We lost a branch every hour or so and are still losing them as I speak. I’d say, about 70% of our beautiful elm tree is gone. And what’s left ain’t looking so good.

The weathermen say we aren’t going to thaw out tonight and more freezing wind in on they way so I guess this means that Kevin and I will spend another night on the living room floor listening to our tree slowing destruct. My biggest fear is that one of these crashing branches won’t bounce off the roof but smash right through it.

Don’t worry, Leina’s room is far far away from the tree and there’s no risk to her. But our poor poor tree. Who knew that getting it trimmed would mean killing it?

How cold is it?

Well, we woke up this morning and when Kevin went to wash his hands, our faucet sputted and then…nothing. Over night, our pipes had frozen. Now, that’s cold!

And, in the case of any home emergency, I did what any rational person would do.

I called my dad.

Now, my dad is the ultimate repository of fix it knowledge. Cars, homes, electronic equipment, my dad has some idea of how to tinker with it. I think this is because of two personality traits.

First, my dad is an engineer. This profession requires an inquisitive mind and a love of tinkering. So if something breaks, Elmo isn’t at all shy about taking it apart and trying to figure out what is wrong.

Second, my dad is cheap. He’d rather spend 20 hours cursing and banging on something then actually pay someone who knows what they are doing to come in, charge him for an hour of work, and fix it. I have no memories from childhood of a plumber or electrition coming to our home. Our car was never “in the shop”. No, my memories consist of my dad yelling obscenities as he cut into the dry wall to get to a pipe that had frozen and busted, car parts strewn around the garage with the car itself up and a jack, or my dad sitting with his voltmeter trying to figure out which as the live wire.

So when something goes wrong in my house or with my car, I always call Elmo. Sure enough, he had a plan of action for my current quandry that involved boiling water in pots and pouring said water over the pipe coming into our house outside. After only one pot, we had running water again.

Of course, it has since re-frozen so Kevin has made a Home Depot trip and is in the process of trying to insulate the pipe.

C-O-L-D. All we need now is the snow. And a fire. Yeah, a nice roaring fire!

Kevin came in from walking the dog last night and announced, “it’s snowing!” Sure enough, when I ran outside, I was gently covered in large, soft flakes. It was the kind of snow that seemed to slide quietly from a muted grey sky. The snowflakes were fluffy and almost warm. No wind in sight so everything settled with a sigh. It was especially beautiful to watch the snowflakes as they passed the colorufl Christmas lights. As I sit here typing, the snow has started up again. Still large gentle flakes that seen to float toward the ground. I can’t wait for the munchkin to wake from her nap so we can have her first snow day!

As we lay in front of the TV together this morning, I couldn’t help but marvel at what 2003 has brought me. I found out I was pregnant with Mini-Me on the day after Christmas so this last year has really been the year of the baby for me. I remember being so awfully sick during the holidays and watching with wonder (and horror) as I began to fill out my maternity clothes. I remember ultrasounds with Kevin (and my parents) when I got my first glimpse of my baby and the joy of learning she was a girl! Designing and painting the room with my mom, shopping for a crib with Kevin’s dad and Carla, and the fun of playing the name game. Of course there was the agony of waddling around the neighborhood 9 months pregnant in 100 degree heat with the dog but there were also lazy afternoons spent in the hammock under the elm tree swaying in the shade and reading, reading, reading.

And then the big day! Leina arrived and everything went crazy. Visiting family and friends, exhausting nights of waking every two hours, holding her in aching arms while she slept. The long night of fussy crying as well as the joys of her first smile, her first laugh, or listening to her coo and babble as she woke for the morning.

It’s unbelievable how much my life has changed in a mere 12 months. Life before Leina seems so long ago and, somehow, so empty and flat. She’s become the light of our universe, our little girl. We revolve around her, mesmerized by her every coo and lie in bed at night asking ourselves, “how lucky are we?”

Ah, 2003 was a great year for the McLaughlin household. Lets hope 2004 can match it!

Leina’s favorite thing right now is to lie on her back and do the running man. This involves both legs and arms flailing together in a kind of rythmic dance. She can do this forever.

Now, hanging with a baby all day, you find yourself being oddly influenced. For example, after watching her power suck on a pacifier one afternoon I found myself wonder what was the big deal? After checking to see no one was watching, I picked up a spare paci and popped it in my mouth. Now, I don’t know if the problem was my teeth or the fact that my mouth is much larger but I really couldn’t do much with paci. It kept slipping and I finally gave up.

But this morning I just couldn’t take it. She was squealling with delight as she lay on the ground doing her morning running man impersonation. I decided, what the heck, and cleared of a spot on the ground to join my daughter. Staring up at the ceiling with her, I studied her technique for a moment and then launched into my own version.

Well, for about 30 seconds. I got the arms going and then lifted both legs and began bicycling them in the air. I think I got a good two or three rotations before I began panting. Another few turns and my stomach was beginning to hurt! I quickly dropped my exhausted arms and legs back down and tried to catch my breath while baby LJ kept right on spinning. And babbling at the same time!

Either I’m in some seriously sad shape or my kid is going to be the next Richard Simmons/Jane Fonda of the work out world. She kicked me butt this morning, that’s for sure!

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– The Web Lackey (aka Kev)