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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!