Wednesday, December 31, 2008

New Year's Bloggin' Eve

Contemplating not going to the New Year's party in Berkeley tonight. I'll feel like a loser being at home alone, but at least I'll be asleep and happy.

We went to Napa for a little family get-away the last few days. Hence, the whole non-blog thing. But I have some great pictures, plus a fun little guide for doing wine country with your toddler. And I'll post it later. In 2009!

Saturday, December 27, 2008

A Toddler's Organizational List

Yeah, yeah. No blog in two days. Get over it.

My son is very helpful when it comes to keeping our home neat and tidy. In fact, his first words were "A place for everything and everything in its place, woof woof banana." Helpful and smart!

Here's an idea of where, in his twisted little mind, our stuff belongs:

-the electric toothbrush: in the toilet.

-jar of cinnamon: in the toilet.

-dad's wallet: why, in the toilet, of course!

-chanukah candle: toilet!

-dog food: first mouth, then toilet.

You get the idea. On my wish list: a toilet lock that isn't big and ugly, and doesn't leave four inches of room for toddler sized hands to drop things through. Alternatively, tiny handcuffs.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

So Sue Me

In my first week of trying to blog every day--even a tiny blog--I was unsuccessful. Technically. Even though the reason I didn't blog yesterday is because I was busy with this guy:



Can you blame me? I was also visiting the cheeseworm and getting a pedicure. And when I wasn't toddler-wrangling or melting from sheer foot-rub-induced ecstasy, I was on date night, consisting of Shabu Shabu and 7 Pounds. Screw you, internets, I'll take date night over blog night any day of the week. But I will feel guilty about it, and make it up by whining about it on the blog. Everyone wins!

Monday, December 22, 2008

Mother of the Year



You can't see the cookie in his mouth or that he's watching porn. But at least he's got socks on!

Sunday, December 21, 2008

It Takes a Strong Man to Like Pink



While making a last-minute-gift-run at Marshall's last night (we're not proud), Samson found and proceeded to fall madly in love with a hot pink child-sized wheelie suitcase. He grasped the handle and walked all over the store, pulling the little pink suitcase behind him.



It was surprising, really, watching him expertly maneuver around racks of ugly sweaters and adult legs and plexiglass shelves overflowing with banged up electronics and Oakland Raiders alarm clocks, all at low, low prices. And my heart shattered as I had to pry the handle from his tiny--yet incredibly strong--fingers and carry him, screaming, from the store. Like, SCREAMING.



I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying my toddler son a hot pink wheelie suitcase. I don't care how many dollars it's been marked down compared to department store prices.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Glutton for Punishment

There are so many animals in this house that Max has to lie on the floor while we watch a movie. There are so many animals in this house that I serve four bowls of kibble in the morning before I even make coffee. There are so many animals in this house that we have more dog towels than we do people towels.

I want a kitten.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Obvious Knowledge

If it is on the floor, it is a dog bed--unless it is a dog bed, in which case it is a cat bed.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Disciplined Blogging

Remember when I used to blog all time? Looking back, it doesn't seem like I had much to blog about in particular, but I was really good about blogging nearly every weekday. And posting pictures. I wish I could do that again. I can blame the kiddo all I want, but the truth is that he goes to bed around 7 pm now, and I have a whole evening to cook, eat, relax, veg, tidy up, whatever. AND BLOG. Even if it's just a couple of sentences about the weird dream I had the other night where my husband's name was Mike (his name's not Mike) and as he made fun of me for calling him Mike, he nearly hit a police car, I will make a very honest effort to blog every day. And hopefully post a picture. Of something other than the kiddo. Like this picture from Galway, I think:



I'm not Catholic, but I do love me some tiny candles.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Five Finger Discount

List of items I have accidentally shoplifted in the past year due to the plethora of pouches and baskets on Samson's stroller:

1. Sugar-free seedless strawberry jam (what? yuck.)

2. Door-latch-stopper thingie to impede Samson's entrance into the downstairs bathroom on which the lock is broken

3. Protective corner pads for the dining room table

4. Organic maple syrup

5. Three pair of size 12-24 month socks in red, gray and navy

Friday, December 12, 2008

Samson: Month Twelve



FINALLY.

Yes, I am exactly six weeks late in writing this post. Life with a toddler is hectic; get used to it.

So month twelve was pretty much all about moving into the new house. You were very helpful, of course, and made sure to climb inside of every cabinet make sure we didn't forget anything, and to empty every box in order to determine whether or not we had packed it correctly. To my joyous surprise, you had no trouble at all adjusting to the new house, and maintained your nap and sleep schedule as if you weren't sleeping in a brand new room that smelled totally different form your old room. That's more than I can say for Ozzy and Nanna.



We took countless trips to IKEA this month, and half of the time you were so patient and engaging and cute that I wanted to tell every person in the cafeteria what a terrific baby you were. Half of the time, I wanted to toss you into the ball pit in Smaland and NEVER LOOK BACK. That was pretty characteristic of month twelve, the Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde baby syndrome. And with you, I think it's especially pronounced. You've always been able to go from adorable to rotten in the blink of an eye, so this month you were just honing your skills. You know, preparing for your teen years. Shudder.

Your Israel Grandma had to head back to the holy land this month, which was sad for all of us. However, we did get to have a little practice birthday party before she left, so you got to have your first birthday cupcake a little early. And boy did you go to town on that thing! I think it's safe to say that you are now officially cupcake pro.



Then of course there was Halloween. For some reason, I was honestly surprised when the costume I had bought you at the beginning of the month no longer fit when Halloween rolled around. You were still cute, but there was definitely a hint of street urchin going on, the way the feet of your turkey costume came up to your knees.



Towards the end of month twelve, we joined a nanny share--also known as the day that the sun got a little bit brighter, the grass was a little bit greener, and my head became a little more sane. And you LOVE going to the nanny share, which makes me so, so happy. In fact, this morning when I dropped you off, the little girl who shares the nanny with you ran up to you and gave you a hug and a kiss, and you just beamed, grabbed the nanny's hand, and walked away without ever looking back at me. I've never been happier.

Conversely, the end of month twelve saw the departure of your father and beginning of The Longest Business Trip in the History of Business Trips, and Also the Farthest Away a Business Trip Has Ever Taken Someone. That sucked for all of us, to be sure. But many of our friends came to keep us company, and it was one of those times when we're reminded of how kind and giving our friends and family truly are. The hectic pace of daily life can make it easy for us to temporarily forget how lucky we are.



It's been a long year, kiddo. Did I say it's been a long year? Because I meant that this year has gone by faster than a bad Woody Allen movie. It's funny how that works. We've been through a lot together, and I get tingly when I think of how much more we have to explore in the next year. Originally, I had only planned to write these monthly posts for the first year, but being six weeks into year two, I already have to reconsider. You get more and more curious every day, and you're capable of so much more every time I turn around. And who am I to deprive the Internet of tales and revelations of your life?



Here's to months thirteen through twenty four...onward and upward!

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Womp womp womp womp womp womp

I finally found a dentist that administers nitrous oxide for routine cleanings. And for fillings, of which I need two. So although I may be lying there on a sticky vinyl chair with ten thousand metal thingies and fingers and tubes in my mouth, at least my brain thinks that everything smells like whipped cream and I can focus on the seemingly demonic Christmas music coming through the overhead speakers.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Their UAV is online

A couple of dear, dear friends had a perfect little baby boy on Thanksgiving. A week and a half overdue, after 30 hours of labor and an eventual C-section, an adorable little cheeseworm has joined our extended family. A few years from now, he and Samson are going to cause SO. MUCH. TROUBLE.

I've been breaking into their house every chance I get just to sit and hold the baby. I drop Samson off at the nanny share and then promptly drive to Cheeseworm's house and grab him from his sleep deprived parents--they're far to weak and wonky at this point to protest or even know what's going on--and I sit in the arm chair and hold his tiny little head in the palm of my hand and cuddle him and tell him how perfect I think he is.

Sounds like somebody's ready for another baby.

Which I'm totally not though. Samson is walking now, damn near hugging and cuddling us, and nice, friendly and fun. I'd be an idiot to ruin this dynamic now by adding another baby, let alone nine months of tired, anxious and moody. I can definitely see why some people choose to have only one child. And I can also totally see why some choose to have twelve.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Still here

Just busy with things like a walking toddler, a friend's brand new baby, and strawberry cupcakes. Which are all really, really good things to be busy with.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Reunited

Ah, in just four short hours, Max will be home from his month long business trip to Europe. Because I am a mean, heartless bitch, I have taught Samson to say "Who are you?" That'll teach him to spend his days earning money to support our family.

It will be so great to have him home. As much as I've enjoyed having the whole bed to myself, sole power over the remote control, and a COMPLETE AND TOTAL LACK OF CALL OF DUTY 4, I've really missed the big lug. He's an integral part of this family, a dinner-making, recycling-taking-outing, bath-giving part. I'm starving, there is a huge pile of aluminum cans in the kitchen, and the baby smells like ass.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands

I am going to be a great parent. Eventually. I may not have it totally down at this point, but I know exactly what kind of parent I'm going to be. Rather, I know exactly what kind of life I'm going to give young Samson.

Over the weekend we had our first trip to the emergency room. Everyone is OK, and I forgot to take pictures. Samson had a fall and had bumped his head, and the ER doctor assessed the situation.

ER Doc: "Well hello there, Samson. Aren't you cute. Can you do the wheels on the bus go round and round?" (ER Doc makes rolling gestures with his hands)

Samson: "The wheels on the what now?"

ER Doc: "How big?" (ER Doc stretches out his arms, and is apparently waiting for Samson to stretch his arms out as well) "So big!"

Samson: "Say what?"

ER Doc "Hmm."

OK, so apparently I'm supposed to by singing these gesture-filled songs to him, and not just watching the Today Show with him. Between Sunday morning and now, I have sung the Wheels on the Bus, oh, about 30 gajillion times. And he really likes it. And that's the kind of parent I've been so far. Oh, I'm supposed to be doing something? Oh, he's supposed to start drinking milk? I'll get right on that. Right after naptime. It's not that I don't try or care, because I care as much as anyone can care about something, and I try hard, damn hard.

Here's the thing. When I was about 7, this wonderful perfect thing called My Little Pony was introduced to the world. And they were perfect. Especially Moondancer and Surprise. They were the prettiest, most beautiful ponies ever to grace the earth. Then, one magical year, the marketing geniuses behind these perfect ponies invented BABY PONIES. And I remember watching the commercial that announced the sparkly new arrivals, and I was SO. FREAKING. EXCITED. And when I got Baby Moondancer and Baby Surprise for Chanukah that year, I was happier than I had ever been before. I felt that everything was right and that the world was a friendly and exciting place. I could do anything and everything was possible. I still get that feeling when it's sunny and crisp and autumnal. I get that feeling at dusk when it's dark and foggy and M. Ward is playing on the stereo. I get that feeling after it rains and I can smell the eucalyptus tree in the backyard.

I want to teach Samson to feel like that. I realize that it's not toys that bring that feeling--jeez, if it were, I'd go out right now and buy every last toy in every last Toys R Us in every last strip mall from here to Wasilla. But I realize it's not toys that bring that feeling. I'm not sure what does bring that feeling, except that it has something to do with feeling secure, and loved, and supported. I'm going to be a great parent.

It's a very very very nice house



Again, I will sing the praises of the nanny share. I was able to get the house cleaned up enough to day so that I could take pictures! They are plentiful, and they're here, but you have to promise to ignore any piles of clothes or yet-to-be unpacked boxes. Ahem.

It's reverse floor plan, so the two bedrooms (master and kids) are on the ground floor and the living room, bathroom, kitchen, dining room and office are upstairs. The whole thing is on a hill, so the backyard is accessed via the kitchen or dining room. There's no garage, and there are 56 steps from the driveway to front door. Can you say buns of steel?

I love this house. I need to say thank you to everyone who listened to me lament about where to live and whether or not to buy, and for all of the advice that you gave me--my family and friends rock.

Monday, November 10, 2008

It's the most wonderful time of the year

If having Samson was the best thing I ever did, then finding a nanny share is the second best thing.

SECOND. BEST. THING. EVER.

For five hours a day, three days a week, I AM FREE. Free to water houseplants and unpack boxes of place mats and WD-40. Free to run errands and go grocery shopping and actually get through the whole store without any screaming. Free to pay bills and post pictures and answer emails. Free to remind Ozzy and Nanna that I do love them and that I haven't forgotten about them. Free to look fruitlessly on Craig's List for my part-time dream job. IT IS AWESOME.

And then there's the guilt. It wouldn't be my experience if it didn't involve guilt, right? Still, it's been two weeks now and I haven't let the guilt spoil my rockin' good time. Really, it's just enough time to take care of business and slowly settle into the new place--of which, by the way, pictures will be coming soon, because, you know, now I have all this free time. The best part is that we started the nanny share the day Max left for a month-long business trip. There is no way I would have made it through this month so far without the nanny share. And Samson really seems to enjoy spending time with his new little friend, an incredibly intelligent 15 month old girl with a kick ass smile. It's good that he learns what little kids are supposed to do. Up until now, he's assumed that everyone spends their days watching the Today Show and reading Goodnight Gorilla over and over again, which I suppose is a pretty accurate representation either way.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Something about a very small violin

I hate it that I haven't been blogging this month. October has been, like, a billion times better than September. But I'm going to be a wimp and go ahead and blame it on the move. I know, I know. It's weird: for the first time in 7 years, we're actually living somewhere that we plan to stay for more than a little while, so there's plenty of time to unpack wisely. Make sure that things get put in the place that makes the most sense and not just shoved in a closet to be dealt with "later." We can pick nice looking furniture that will last, and we can take our time doing so, instead of doing a frenzied IKEA run that inevitably ends in Swedish meatballs and tears. But I still feel so rushed, so pressured to unpack the boxes and buy the dishes and whatever else needs to be done. To do it NOW. Not easy with a one year old (almost!) who's as close to walking as I am to becoming an alcoholic. Not easy with a one-eyed cat who all of a sudden is nice to me, actually likes me and just needs to sit in my lap for another ten minutes, please, thank you very much. Yawn. Purr.

I know it's because Max is leaving in a few days and won't be back for three weeks, and I want to have the whole house ready by the time he gets back. After all, he works hard all day and earns money to pay our shiny new mortgage, and what do I do? I stay home. So the least I can do is make the house look perfect while I'm here. Actually, the least I could do is prevent the baby from falling down the stairs by laying my body on the floor to block his attempts while I watch the Today Show. Anyone with a baby at home knows that they are exhausting, I mean EXHAUSTING. After caring for a tot all day (and night, sometimes), there's not much time left for other things, say, like laundry and vacuuming and cooking. There is only time for napping and booze, and not necessarily in that order.

If it sounds like I'm making a lot of excuses, well that's because I am. It's hard to be the non-earner in the family, especially when you're the primary spender (something I am very very good at, by the way--like, stellar good). Which is totally retarded when the reason you're not earning is so you can stay at home and raise a demon child that feeds on your soul.



Tell me that your soul doesn't feel a little big soggy from being sucked on just now.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Samson: Month Eleven



It's almost time, big guy. There will be cake and presents and singing and cake. Did I mention the cake? But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I think month eleven was tough for you. Scratch that. I know month eleven was tough for you, what with all of the screaming and whining and crying. Turns out it was the teeth--four big ones on the top--that made life so difficult for you this month. We're past that now, but it was touch and go for a while there. Your father and I considered many drastic things, like having your aunt Chen come over to baby sit, and then never coming home. Fortunately for you, we're kind of hooked on you at this point.



You spent a great deal of time in the realtor's office this month. There were many papers to sign, hundreds of thousands of papers, and you passed the time by crawling around on the conference room floor and dumping the trash bin over. Luckily, the realtor really wanted our money and put up with your shenanigans time and time again. Everything worked out for the best, and now we have a place to live.



The Richmans came for a visit from Minneapolis this month, and you got a brief insight into what it might be like to have siblings. Siblings who will take your stuffed animals and then glare at you with furious intent. We also went to the zoo, and this time you really noticed the animals, especially the otters and the monkeys.



You got pretty close to walking this month--there were a couple of times when I thought you were standing unassisted, but your hand was just out of view. Of course, I started pointing and yelling and totally freaking you out so you just fell over and started crying anyway. You're also trying to very hard to speak. Still. You can make all kinds of sounds and string them together into nonsense sentences, but no real words yet. We all know your first words are going to be "Our UAV is online" and "Friendly airstike on the way!"



We did lots of other fun stuff this month--we went to the Aquarium of the Bay, we celebrated Rosh HaShonah, you rode your first street car and your first carousel, you had your first Swedish Meatballs at IKEA--and we spent a lot of time at home this month, just the two of us. You've gotten really good at crawling on me and climbing over me, and every so often you'll crawl up into my lap and just sit there, eating a waffle or letting me read you a book. This is my favorite part of the day.

Friday, October 03, 2008

It's Official



We're homeowners! Behold, the key.

Monday, September 29, 2008

28

We signed the papers today, we're damn near homeowners. Friday's the big day, and you know what they say: "When god takes a kitty's eyeball, he gives you a house and a mortgage." We're in the midst of a Jewish holiday, Rosh Hashanah (the New Year), and Max and I will celebrate by furniture shopping. Which is really the only thing we've been doing for the last 2 weeks. But holy crap, have we found some amazing stuff. It's OK to furnish an English cottage in mid century modern, right?

Speaking of disgusting things you don't really need to read about, we were at IKEA over the weekend, and Samson got fussy. No, really. I'm not joking. So I did my normal thing where I give him every thing from my purse, his diaper bag, etc, to keep him occupied. And when he ran out of things to open, close and chew on, I gave him one of the paper IKEA tape measures. And the next day I found the number 28 in his diaper. Seriously. I'm sure I'll find weirder things in his diapers in the future, but that was awesome. It was all I could do to stop myself from taking a picture.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Some big things and other things bigger still

I've been on hold with the IRS for 37 minutes now. I'm holding on to the hope that the conversation will end with me getting money, not owing money. Does that ever happen?

Thankfully, Samson is napping. I couldn't do this with an unruly 10 month old tearing around the living room and squawking as he is wont to do. He's actually been napping a lot lately, and I'm guessing that's related to this new tooth that finally emerged yesterday (number three for those who are keeping track, top right). He's probably got another two or three in the works, I'll keep monitoring the situation.

Never one to be good at keeping secrets, I have some exciting news. We finally found a great house that works for us, and we done went and bought it. I didn't want to say anything until we actually had the keys, but I can't wait that long, it's all too fanciful and exciting! We close in early October, just in time for a kick ass first birthday party for Sam in our new backyard.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Samson: Month Ten



Wait, you're HOW OLD? There's no way that's possible. I knew as soon as I saw all the Halloween candy in Target a few weeks ago that your birthday was coming up, but come on, they start putting out Thanksgiving decorations in July these days, so I thought I had a little more time to prepare. To prepare for what, exactly, I'm not sure. I just know that every day, you are bigger and more capable of wreaking havoc on everything in our house, car, grocery store, veterinarian's office, etc.

Ten months old. You finally discovered the dogs this month. I guess you figured out what the rest of us have known for months: you're never going to catch the cat. You will get close, really close, but cats are mean like that. They take pleasure in your suffering, it's what cats do. Not only have you discovered that the dogs are fun and covered in various bits to grab, but they are also perfect role models for a ten month old baby. This month, you started barking at the doorbell and carrying toys on your mouth as you crawled around the living room. Your father and I nearly pee our pants every time.



Your Israel Grandma arrived last month for an extended stay in the US. Talk about a spoiled baby. Now with four grandparents around, things like bedtime have been abolished and every meal involves pancakes. There's always someone on hand to remind you that EVERYTHING you do is cute and that you should do ANYTHING you want. This is a good thing, and you are very lucky to have all of them. We all took you to your first baseball game this month. you lasted a whole three innings, which is really quite impressive.



You babble. A lot. And it's as if you're speaking full sentences to me that are completely comprehensible in some foreign language, and I am an idiot for not understanding what you say. We have these conversations in the car where you say something like "Abble dibble dibble agaur drabble drabble ahhhhhhh." And I'm all, "That's right, we're driving to the store to get avocados for dinner." And you look at me in the little mirror that we have set up so that we can see each other in the rear view mirror as if to say, "What the hell? What does that have to do my plans to destroy Aba's X-Box when we get home?" Of course, you're a huge hit wherever we go. The best was at your nine month check a few weeks ago when I got you naked, realized I had forgotten your blanket in the car (have I mentioned? I'm a horrible parent), and wrapped you in my sweater. Your sweet smile and excited babble mesmerized the doctor and she forgot all about calling child services.



Every Tuesday and Thursday during your tenth month, we spent the morning at swim lessons. You were the youngest kid in the class, and the only one who didn't cry the first day. You were far too busy drinking pool water to cry. And for the next eight classes, you spent the entire 40 minute sessions drinking pool water while I tried to teach you how float on your back and kick your feet and hold your breath. It was only on the last day of class that you realized how fun it was to splash AND drink pool water. Next time.



You've also decided that spoons are for suckers, and you're all about finger foods now. Thanks, Ima, but no thanks. I've got this one covered. On the menu at any given moment: bananas, avocado, cheese, carrots, waffles, pancakes, and Veggie Booty. 



Your father and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary this month. Nothing too fancy, we went out for churrascuria (meat. MEAT!) while some grandparents sat for you. We were really happy to come home to you, and we love the memory of having you at our wedding, kicking me HARD on the right side of my belly, and keeping me from getting drunk at the reception. Thank you.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Wind Burned and Glassy Eyed

After spending the last two days whizzing--yes, whizzing--around in Max's Miata with the top down, my lips have formed an unpleasant glaze of chappedy crackedness that necessitates the constant application of peppermint chapstick. That, and I still have convertible hair, which in my case, as my hair has gotten really long due to my laziness and lack of time to get a haircut, means lots of knots and snarls. Sigh.

Huge surprise: I'm tired. The running around, the staying still, all of it just makes me exhausted. I don't know how to approach any event in my life with anything other than 110% percent of excitement and attention and with my energy levels turned up to eleven. I need to slooooooow dooooooown.

Coming soon, Samson's tenth month. Yes, I know! Holy shit!

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Baby come back to me

It's tough. I want to blog, I want to put all of these little stories into words. And they're not all about the baby, I swear. Alas, the gas tank is almost empty, and the nearest fueling station is still pretty far off. I may just make it.

Big changes afoot here in my Extra Super Fantastic life. Big things. I'm getting ready to head in an exciting new direction, and I can't wait to fill my gas tank up and tell you all about it.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

MUSTACHE PARTY!



That's why I haven't been blogging. I've been preparing for and attending the mustache party.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Samson: Month Nine



Well, it finally happened. My little baby boy is all grown up. At 21 pounds 9 ounces and 29 inches, I think he's about as big as he's going to get. The doctor claims that his hight and weight are things like "perfectly normal" and "average." I think words like "humongous" and "freakishly heavy" are in order.



He's gotten very good at what the interwebs call "cruising," walking while holding on to furniture. This in turn means he's gotten VERY good at taking all our various things from the coffee table, out of the arm-rest-storage-bins in the sofa, and the entertainment center/tv stand/bookshelf. Up until now, "babyproofing" meant that the vodka was safely out of reach. But we've suddenly entered that stage where I need to affix weird plastic things to all of our cupboards and drawers and keep the toilet lid down at all times. Maybe someday I'll post about my never-ending search for a suitable baby gate.



Oh, the babbling. Long ago he mastered ba ba ba and yeah yeah yeah. He's now moved on to such complex constructions as lar de lar de lar the ever-popular, very quiet di di di. It's like he's talking quietly to whichever toy he's holding. And it never fails to bring a smile to our faces. Actually, that's pretty much true about everything he's done this month. Every time he turns around from his deconstruction project to see if we're watching, and the huge grin we get when he sees that we are--priceless. Grabbing at low-hanging goodies as we stroll by--whether they be leaves and branches or shirts at the store--just totally cutes me out. As much as I want to have another baby, I'm not sure I could ever love anyone they way I love my Samson.



It's nice though; between the slap slap slap of his hands and knees on the hard wood floors and the constant yeah yeah yeah de lar lar lar, I've gotten pretty good at determining where he is in the house without ever having to take my eyes off of Law & Order. And ninety percent of the time, he's in hot pursuit of a cat. Or cat food.

I can't get over how busy he is. Always on his way somewhere, or to many somewheres, and with such grit! Such determination! Thankfully, he also seems to enjoy sitting in the stroller looking at birds, trees and people (especially people). And best of all, month nine has seen the return of the 2-3 nap days and the 2 hour naps. Not all the time, but a lot of the time. We try to go on little adventures to tire him out--like our extra super fantastic trip to the zoo--and that helps bring about the 2 hour nap. Oh 2 hour nap, how I love thee.



Now that my teeny tiny baby is a Small Child, he's started using his Big Boy car seat. Which is very exciting. Obviously. He also started eating chicken and fish this month, or rather, he started flinging chicken and fish at me this month. Not a huge fan, unless I mix enough fruit in with the meat that he can't tell it's there. Fair enough. Nothing wrong with mango chicken or apple sole. Ew.



And what would month nine have been without Samson's first Fourth of July and hence his first Annual Foster City Pancake Breakfast.One of the neat things about raising your kid in the same place you grew up is that you get to relive all of your childhood memories with some sort of an action figure.



On the horizon for month ten: Samson's first (extra utero) wedding, first camping trip (hopefully), swim lessons, first baseball game (go A's!), and a visit from Auntie Mir. It just keeps getting better!

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

Coming Soon: Month Nine

I've been a little slow in getting my nine month update written, but hopefully I'll get done soon. And that's all I have to say about that.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

And his belly is almost as big as mine was

In 2 days, Samson will 40 weeks and 2 days old. Which is the exact amount of time that he was growing all up in my grill. That's a long time to spend with someone who doesn't exist precisely, outside of your own mind/body/hormones. It's and immeasurably longer amount of time to spend with someone who poops and belches like it's going out of style, someone who depends on you for everything. EVERY. THING. Someone who really likes to grab your glasses off of your face and pull your hair and destroy whatever it is that you're paying attention to that's not him. Just saying.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Did you ever know that you're my hero?

It's hot. It's late. I'm itchy. I'm full of Chinese food and frozen yogurt and I'm off to bed and Law & Order. But I wanted to say one thing, Internet. Thank you for hanging in there while I try to find my blogging groove again. I know that this blog and I will get over our mutual grudge and be friends again soon. And when that happens, look out Internet.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Like the summer house we sort of had

Our tree swing should be here any day now. I can't wait to hang it in the front yard--that is, to get Max to hang it in the front yard--and spend every afternoon from now on pushing Samson, listening to his squeals of delight as I sip lemonade and feel the cool breeze on my neck. In a perfect world, this fantasy laden scene would involve fireflies, but I've never seen a firefly in the San Francisco Bay Area. The dogs will lie lazily in the sun, and I will, of course, look stunning in my "world's best mom" t-shirt. Max will come home from work, welcomed by the sounds of summertime perfection, and then we'll all go inside for pie and ice cream as the dusk moves in. And new episodes of Arrested Development and 30 Rock will be on TV every night.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

He must be a genius since he can read the "kick me" sign taped to my back

The baby is really kicking my ass this week. Already. It's only Tuesday. Sigh. It's so much more work now that he's mobile, so much more chasing and fishing things out of his mouth. And putting the bowl of dog water up then bringing it down, then repeating fifty or so times. But lots more fun too, turns out he's super ticklish. So when I'm just so tired and he REFUSES to nap, I just tickle him for a while. Totally worth it.

Ah yes, refusing to nap. Who needs naps, anyways? The boy who regularly took three two-hour naps a day is lucky to get two one-hour naps in at this point. And it's not slowing him down one bit. Boot camp and playgroups and lunches with various grandmas keep him going, and then there's always the cat. Nothing like crawling furiously in a fruitless attempt to catch a cat. Good luck with that.

July means "nap" in some other language

Wow, July sure has been light on the posting. I can say that I had a terrific time at the Renegade Craft Fair last weekend, and I will post pictures of my bounty soon. Also, the new refurbished Lomo seems to be working; I got some great shots of the dogs lounging in the back yard a few weeks ago.

I've just been so. darn. tired. Chasing a baby around is tough work. It's not easy. When I'm not chasing, I prefer to be sleeping, or listening to music (imagine that!) or watching Law and Order (I don't believe you.). Or sometimes doing all three at once. There have also been many cupcakes recently.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Field Trip

I can hardly wait for Saturday!

I'm already making a list of vendors I need to visit.

So glad I live in the SF Bay Area. Sigh.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Skillz

OK, it's just a video of my baby crawling. But it took me 3 days worth of nap time and lots of trial software to get everything the way I wanted it. I foresee many more videos of such triviality now that I know what I'm doing.

If I lived in NYC, my kids would be this cool, too

The Boys and the Subway.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Samson: Month Eight



So many new things things month--I'm still reeling from the shock. I'll let Samson tell you all about it.



Today I am 8 months old. Still, my parents treat me like a baby. They're all, "Samson, don't climb up the bookshelves," and "Samson, that bowl of water is for doggies and kitties, not for babies." If the doggies and kitties want the water so bad, they can come get it. As far as I'm concerned, anything below 27 inches is fair game.



So, have you found out about shoes yet? Oh my god, they taste SO GOOD. Especially flip flops. Delicious. Oh, and stroller wheels. try licking them right after a walk through the park, it's truly a singular culinary experience. Mostly, I prefer to lick things. Although I did grow these two crazy teeth this month, and I find that they're especially good for biting thumbs, spoons, water glasses and what not. Also for biting the edges of my crib, restaurant tables, high chairs, and shopping carts. My Ima keeps trying to prevent this by covering these edges with blankets and things, but a few good old fashioned melt downs in Safeway should put an end to that.



Right after our trip to Portland early this month, I figured out how to move forward across the floor by using my hands and knees. Every time I did it, everybody would shout and cheer and freak out--weirdos. But it's really useful for getting around the new place, particularly on the hardwood floors. So now that I've dominated the horizontal frontier, I've started working on my vertical skills. Standing up in the crib is a breeze, plus it makes my voice carry much further when it's time for Ima to wake up and come play with me. I'm also doing pretty well with the various living room furniture. For Father's Day, I've been working on rearranging the books on the bottom bookshelf--it's a daily project. I haven't got them scattered on the floor quite right yet.

With all of this newfound mobility, there's really no time for naps. Too much to do and taste. Once, maybe twice a day I can take a little cat nap, but that's really about it. I can't afford to miss a moment of the day--there's so much to keep up with! I have to find out if that cat is still behind that couch, I have to give Ozzy's dog collar a few good tugs to make sure it's on correctly. Oh, and the wires--I have to locate and taste any wire that might still be accessible. I'm very, very busy.



When Aba gets home from work, the real fun begins. We dance, we roll around on the bed, we bounce. Really, they're so cute at this age, these Abas. He still needs me in the bath with him (I'm not sure he knows how to wrangle the rubber duckies quite yet--one of my proudest skills), but I don't mind. It's our Guy Time.



As you can tell, I've got a lot of things to attend to today. Being 8 months old is hard work. I think by next month I'll be driving the car and playing Old Gray Mare on my French horn. I'll probably also have finished my first screenplay by then.

So long,
Samson

Friday, June 27, 2008

Samson fans aren't like other fans



Just having one of those days where I absolutely love that baby. And I just can't get over how completely awesome he is. Now that we're full on crawling, pulling books off of the bookshelf (I know it's wrong, but for now it's just cute), flashing that toothy grin, I just spend my days melting and then melting some more. We had to lower his crib mattress as he began pulling up into a standing position on the railing the other day. I just can't believe he's...growing up.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Eat it, part deux

My dog Ozzy. My dog Ozzy is a lovable, emotionally damaged sad sack of dog. My dog Ozzy is usually well behaved, inasmuch as he doesn't normally go about jumping onto counter tops to steal food. He does lots of other undesirable things, and he'd do just about anything for food. Lately, there have been lots of mini bagels around, which weird in it's own right. It all started back at Samson's bris in November where the guests noshed on mini bagels and Max's mom's chopped chicken liver. But it was Ozzy who noshed on the mini bagels when nobody was looking. Every so often since then, there have been mini bagels around our house and my parents' house. For brunches. For no reason at all. Not something either of normally keep on hand, but there you go.

And it turns out they go really well with peanut butter.

So today when I bought the bag of mini bagels at Target, I could almost taste the peanut butter on the one I would have at my mid-morning snack tomorrow. It was going to be delicious, I tell you! But Ozzy put an end to all of that silly almost-tasting, when he ate the entire bag not more than an hour after I got home.

I feel sad and bageless now.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Eat It

I've got another head cold (Samson, too!), so at least I have an excuse to go so long between posts right now. That and the 100 + degree weather we've had for the last few days. Today it was back in the 70's, it's no wonder I'm sick.

Yeah, also, screw the no meat thing. Maybe just not as much meat. I won't eat the cute animals, only the animals that are jerks to their mothers and pick on the other animals at school.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Only if they invent animal-gluten-sugar-alchohol-caffeine-free bacon

A couple weeks ago, Max and I decided to stop eating meat for a little while. We are not, however, totally nuts, so we kept seafood on the menu. To go from being carnivorous monsters to all out vegetarian so quickly would surely shock our fragile systems, sending us into a deadly tailspin of tofu and brown rice.

A couple of weeks ago. Feels like a damn eternity. And when Max reads this post, he will become aware of the fact that there may have been just a *teensy* bit of cheating up in Portland, but he'll still love me. Because he knows how hard it's been for me to give up turkey sandwiches. Ahem.

It's actually been pretty great. Not great eating or tasting (although not horrible by any means), but great feeling. Like I can actually do something different and leave my comfort zone. But the reality is, I'm not leaving my comfort zone. I'm leaving my bacon-steak-turkey comfort zone and settling nicely into my pasta-cheese-pie-potato-chip comfort zone. And how, exactly, does that involve important things like "doing the right thing" or "being a better person" or "living more healthfully?" Granted, not eating animals (except fish, yes) is all of these things. In fact, this whole challenge started when we watched Babe recently (who knew bacon was so damn cute??). But It hasn't given me the sense of hope and accomplishment that I thought it would, the hope that I could loose some goddamn weight and that I could have more energy and that I could feel better about myself. It's hard to have hope for these things when dinner has 3 different types of (delicious) full fat cheeses in it and and a quarter cup of brown sugar. So I like my pasta sauce sweet, you wanna make something of it?

Then Dooce and Mighty Girl jumped on the Oprah train and I'll be darned if I'm not thinking about trying this 21 day cleanse thing, too. Minus the meditation and visualization. Cause that's not how I roll.

Of course, all of this comes up right when I'm getting ready to start giving meat to the baby. If I can't have turkey sandwiches or bacon, I'll make sure he gets all of the turkey sandwiches and bacon in the world.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Buddy, can you spare some time?



This is my favorite shot from the crafty Father's Day card that I made for Max. I'm amazed I even got this done--between trying to finish unpacking (HA), traveling, and taking care of business, I've had absolutely zero time for crafts, projects, or creativity in general. It's really killing me, because for the first time in ages, I'm feeling the need and desire to do all sorts of crap. Especially photography (which is always part of my nesting procedure and the way I get familiar with a new neighborhood). I even feel a bit like weaving again, which is good because I owe MLK a blanket.

Samson is a good napper, and he still tends to take 2-3 naps a day. Now if I can only learn to use that time to do stuff, and not sleep or get lost in a Law and Order marathon. Doink doink.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

No, really, BITE ME

Tooth number 2 arrived while we were in Portland last week, just in time for Samson to nibble on Auntie Mir's fingers. Four days of sightseeing, dining out, shopping, and walking around the city's lovely parks. But most importantly, four days with LDB and her new baby girl, Samson was fascinated with the squirmy pink thing, almost as much as we was with chewing on the leg of the coffee table. It was a great week, and we can't wait to go back again soon.

Max is getting in some good Father's Day COD4 time, and Samson is napping...I'm not sure what to do with myself! I mean, of course I could unpack on of the last straggling boxes, or fold some laundry, or vacuum...or I could read some blogs and take a nap. Hmmm, wonder which option I'll choose.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Bite Me

The Tooth Fairy better start saving her quarters now, Samson's first tooth came in yesterday. There wasn't any warning really, not that I'm complaining. This kid is pure gold.

Monday, June 02, 2008

Samson: Month Seven



I think we've hit that point where things just get better and better. I didn't think anything could be better than last month with the whole sitting up thing and the decrease in crying levels. But month seven has brought many fun and exciting things. Highlights:

Solid food! This kid was born to eat. We started out with jars of food, but have since transitioned into the home made stuff--because, you know, I love my son. And when you love your kids, you make their food at home. And if you really love them, you chew it up and regurgitate it for them instead of using a blender.



Anyways.

Samson loves him the applesauce. Sweet potatoes and butternut squash are also on the favorites list, but there's nothing he doesn't like. It's kind of like feeding time at the penguin area of the aquarium; it's a big attraction whenever we have guests. We have many friends who have fed and changed Samson. That will come in handy at his wedding.

Speaking of food, Samson is now a self-feeder. He holds his own bottles, event he super hefty morning 8 ouncer. The only bottle left for poor old me to hold is the bedtime bottle which is administered in the rocking chair, as part of the bedtime routine. This is kind of freaking me out.



Push ups are now commonplace, and the backwards inchworm move appears every so often. Full blown mobility is imminent. We moved out of the two story place just in time.

The cutest thing for sure is reaching for Max or me. He's always loved to be held, and now he can demand it in a way that is not to be taken lightly. Who can say no to big blue eyes and tiny little arms outstretched? This kid is going to be able to get away with murder.



If you come to our new house, you're sure to hear the sounds of babbling. It sounds like this: ababababababababa. Of course he's talking about Max, who is known as Aba. The babbling is often combined with the grabbing of a toy and the flailing about of said toy. I can watch this forever.

Finally, FINALLY he's sleeping through the night again. No 3 or 4 am feedings, it's bedtime at 7 and up again at 6. AWESOME. Nothing could make me happier.

The end of month seven saw the demise of the diaper rash that started early in month six. Not huge news for most of you, but a cause for great joy in our home. It's hard to see a baby with an angry red behind. Normal baby butt is one of the sweetest, most kissable things in the world. Dry, red, chapped baby butt makes me want to cry. The winning combo was a daily bath with cornstarch, Desitin with each diaper change, and Huggies sensitive wipes, for those who are keeping track.




Month seven also brought the announcement of the first directly inspired by Samson pregnancy! Our good friends are expecting in November, and I award complete inspiration rights to Sam.

Auntie Mir made her first appearance in month seven--first of many. A trip to Portland is in the works for month eight.

Grass! We have a big backyard now, and nothing is as new and exciting as sitting in the grass and pulling grass and eating grass. Except for sitting in the sandbox. Which lasted all of 1.8 seconds as he grabbed his first fistful of sand and promptly put it in his mouth.



Our first non-grandparent baby sitter! Rosa came over and sat with Samson so max and I could go see Indiana Jones last weekend. I think Rosa had more fun than Max did (I liked the movie, dammit).

Oh, and this is awesome: I clipped ALL TEN fingernails without clipping ANY fingertips! Obviously, I rock. It only took me seven months to get to this point. No autographs, please.

I'm feeling all around more competent as a parent this month. I seem to have found a pretty decent balance between not sweating the small stuff and doing what I can to raise a happy and healthy person. As anyone with a kid knows, the challenges are HUGE, to your sanity, your patience, your time management skills, your sense of self, your relationship. And the rewards make it completely worth it. Every day, things change just enough to keep me on my toes. One morning, he'll decide not to nap. Or he'll totally loose it at Target. Or he'll sit quietly on his play mat and entertain himself for over an hour. It's always something different, and lots of things just make me smile, and lots of things make me lock myself in the bathroom and cry. But everything makes me feel like we're getting somewhere, like we're accomplishing the stuff we're supposed to be accomplishing.



Onward and upward!