Monday, July 31, 2006

Will Make Dinner For Sex

When the father figure is home, I get some insanely delicious meals. I open the freezer and scoff at the pile of frozen veggie meals within. Let it be known that he wasn’t always an excellent cook but with time and the realization that he’d starve waiting for this busy (I originally wrote “busty”) mama to whip something together, he’s become an accomplished at-home chef. Last night he prepared a meal that rocked my world so hard that he got lucky. The complete menu is in the most recent issue of Gourmet. It’s the one with pasta with tomatoes and basil and other stuff.

As the assistant to the head cook, I was in charge of grilling ears of corn and a huge salmon filet. It would’ve been no big deal had I not had a child attached to my hip who was spilling out of his diapers with curiosity. I tonged seven ears of corn (some to be used in tonight’s dinner performance which might include a lap dance for papa if I really, really like it…) over blazing coals as Willem made hand gestures and mimicked my “hot” warnings. We swapped sweat beads at the salmon sizzled and the ears roasted. I expertly balanced baby and my glass of wine. At 8:30 p.m. the meal was served and baby was sound asleep. We lingered over the fare with champagne and more vino and it was glorious. We floated up the stairs to the bedroom and canoodled like the birds and the bees. We vowed to make every Sunday’s meal as memorable as the Sunday prior. The bar has been set and I can’t wait until the end of the week.

We took W to the neighborhood swimming pool this weekend. We’re fortunate to have one that also has a separate kiddie pool with water 8 inches to 2 feet deep. This was the first time daddy had accompanied us to the cement pond and only my second time to take baby there but W’s caregivers have been taking him all summer. It was an almost paralyzing shock to witness how quickly the friendliness of the pool can turn into a horrific scene. W likes to walk everywhere and he won’t let you hold his hand as he strolls through the water. He wades in slow motion along the edges and sometimes ventures towards the depths unknowingly. A pause, a small wave and suddenly he goes under. He went backwards and was quickly submerged, his eyes wide open, his mouth agape and taking in water. He was only under for 2 seconds but it was enough to scare the bejeebus out of us. Water shot out of his nose as he caught his breath and choked on tears. I didn’t leap out of the pool and make a big deal of it (although my legs were weak and my heart was racing) but merely calmed him and over time, he was ready to take on the chlorine sea again. Of course, papa and I were just sick that we had allowed him to be taken to the pool by his caregivers and are completely grateful that nothing bad ever happen but no more pool outings. He’ll be dog paddling at home in his inflatable pond for a while.

Oh, and one more thing. How in the hell can I get my baby to sit down while taking a bath? For the love of God, doesn’t he realize that standing up in a giant claw foot with super tall, porcelain edges and slippery, wet limbs is a trick David Blaine won’t attempt? I know the chrome handles tempt him and he can’t help polishing them with his saliva but that’s what the housecleaner is for (but she uses a cleaner, not her own saliva). I gently sit his naked butt down and it’s game over, bath over, “Get me the heck out of here, how dare you mess with my rubber duckiness and soapy mojo.” I’m thinking of attaching suction cups to his behind.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Baby Einstein Or Great Imitator

A SAHM friend of mine, who should really have her own blog because she is SERIOUSLY funny, sent me an email the other day regarding the development of my little boy wonder. She has a sweet, beautiful son who is a couple of months older than mine but is continuing on the baby path of development he should be on. She mentioned that while being home with baby 24/7 is wonderful thing, a little walking, talking or use of a sippy cup would be a welcomed change. The thought really compelled me to consider what my child is accomplishing and here is what I concluded…

Quite simply, he’s growing up a little too damn fast.

Walking at 9.5 months is ludicris! That was the same weekend he mastered the crawling on all fours thing. Prior to that he was a stationary pup moving his arms and legs as if swimming for his life in an imaginary tide. He’d barely figured out the military crawl when he was all, “To hell with this, I’m walking away from this crawling crap.” Now he just goes and goes and goes and yes, it is awesome so long as you don’t mind things in the household customized by a toddler.

He also decided one day that he no longer wanted to a bottle. He refused it, gave it the finger and never looked back. He still nurses at least twice a day which is a blessing because he loathes formula. Now he’s a sippy cup, juice box, boob baby.

He’s also passionate about the books he’s interested in and won’t stick around to hear the next sentence of a book that’s not on his listening list. Right now his current favorites ping between Crawlies Creep and All Mommies Love Their Babies. You try to start The Very Hungry Caterpillar and his little hands slam down and, wham, the book is closed with sparks flying.

He’s a great imitator of sounds, something he may have gotten in the gene pool from my side of the family. Both my brother and I can imitate sounds well and used to amuse our childhood friends with the talent (or curse). Fire truck sirens, a dog howling, a “Yeehaw” belted out by mama, W’s doing them almost pitch perfect. It’s eerie and makes you seriously aware of what you are doing or what your immediate environment is providing to him as learning tools. We must seriously monitor our potty mouths in the Z household.

When he’s in his own world, he babbles with the seriousness of a CEO reporting a quarterly loss, he gestures like a Baptist preacher, he paces like a worried Jewish mother. It’s all strange and curious to witness. What have I bred and brought into this world. Is he normal? And if not, will I know how to give him everything he needs? What’s looming around the corner and will there be explanations for it all. I’ve got a lot of research to do and I’m way behind on my parenting books.

Little Mr. Ultra-Dramatic

Thursday, July 27, 2006


One of the disadvantages of having evenings sans the dad figure is that when I tuck in to bed and turn on the tube for about an hour of viewing, I find myself watching the most horrific and sad programs. Basically, I cry myself to sleep. I bounce between shows about a little 3-year-old with dwarfism or some other form of deficiency to real-life jetliners about to crash or the disappearance of someone’s child. Pygmy families could be disputing in the rainforest and as soon as a child bursts in to tears, I follow suit. I didn’t used to be this way, all soft and mushy and venerable to the tube but I know it all started when I got pregnant. I remember crying at diaper commercials, touching highlight reels of families reuniting and forget about TLC. That channel made me a basketcase. These days I’m just a sensitive ponytail type (but mess with my kid and I will be Dante’s nine levels of hell wrapped in a tidy little package).

In the babyland department, I put moleskin on the metal edges of our bed frame to protect my child’s larger-than-average noggin from whacking it as he practices running on the carpet. He discovered the improvement yesterday and proceeded to test it out by purposefully taping his forehead on it over and over and over. Makes a mom proud.

Speaking of running, the dad is convinced that baby’s big toes that resemble thumbs are what allowed him to begin walking at 10 months. I’m sad to report that he has his mom’s feet. Wanna see?

The time I spend with W is so valuable to me especially since I work a full-time gig that becomes insanely busy every March. There are moments, however, when my parenting skills are lackluster and responses like “That’s not for baby.” degrade to “Whateverrrrrrr.” Since he can already say mou (mouse), kee kee (cat), mama, dada, and tree, I’m sure he’s on the verge of spouting “whateverrrrr” any minute. But that won’t be before he says “jackass,” my favorite curse word while driving.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Baby & Me

It’s time for another episode of “Pretend Single Parenting with Mrs. Fantasy!” This is a shortened version as papa is only in the studio three days this week. Last night, baby and I gorged on chicken fried steak, creamed corn and French fries from Hyde Park Bar & Grill before turning down the lights and relaxing in the La-Z-Boy, like a couple of stuffed teenagers, to watch some rotten cable programming. I was sawing logs by 10:30 and managed a full eight hours of sleep which is the BEST! We had a full morning of waffles, Elmo, and “can you guess where I’m hiding while I poop in my diaper?” Daddy came in from the back house all disheveled from abbreviated sleep but with that warm, contented grin of a proud family member.

Little W is heading back to school next month. You will soon be privy to a blogged collection of mishaps and mistakes (mostly performed by moi). Yesterday I received a call from the school Willem went to when he was this young…

and they said they had an upcoming vacancy for a Tuesday/Thursday slot. Hallelujah! Since I knew his wonderful nanny was soon to return to educating other people’s snotty nosed dear ones, I had begun a search to find a place to put him on a part-time basis for starters. I wanted to see what other schools were in the ‘hood but it didn’t take long for me to find myself dialing his old school like it was a 911 emergency. I visited a place not too far away and came home completely horrified at what I glimpsed and smelled. I was told by a few folks that this school is a “good one.” En route to work I can always see the little tykes in their diapers barefoot and frolicking about behind a little picket fence but what is beyond the fence is another story. What was supposed to be community water play looked more like puddles and pools of bacterial soup to me. What was supposed to be patio body painting looked like a case pending for a personal injury lawyer. What was supposed to be an edamame snack for toddlers looked like a) a child labor situation with tiny baby de-beaners at work, b) a potential staff-wide refresher course on the infant Heimlich Maneuver. The school smelled of mildewed carpet and staleness. As I was shown around, I wondered if everyone just ignored the offending stink or was just used to it. Shelves were dusty with unused toys, things seemed to be teetering at curious angles ready to collapse, and I felt claustophobic. I could be over-reacting here but this is my interpretation and my interpretation was scared of this mess. Thankfully, we are bound for familiar surroundings and I can’t wait!

Friday, July 21, 2006

Pepto Dismal

Oh, land of stomachaches! I feel nauseous today and it won’t go away. It’s not the “I could be preggers” kind of nausea. We all know that no action in the marital chambers = no baby number two. Maybe it was something I ate last night but the tuna seemed so fresh. Maybe it was the margarita followed by the tequila shot that I gulped. Perhaps it’s because my sweet son decided to be a little rooster this morning and roused me from an abbreviated slumber at 5 a.m. I thought for sure, as per his usual M.O., he’d be back in bed two hours later and I could grab a couple more hours of shut eye before the “TGIF” workday ensued, but nooooooo. He buzzed around like the Energizer Bunny, unstoppable in his cheery solo parade. Four hours later, he had emptied his batteries and was ready to call it a morning. I, on the other hand, had to get ready for work. OR maybe I am filling ill because I spent part of the morning watching shark attacks on YouTube. The movement of the waves, the sharks eating things dead and alive, the seasickness. Whoa is me.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

My Baby Daddy

Marriage is tough, there’s no doubt about that, but when it’s good, it’s really good. The angels sing, rainbows abound and gumdrops fall from the sky. No, that’s from a childhood cartoon.

It’s been nice to have the father figure home every night since the middle of last week. It’s a challenge to get him to slow down and direct his attention to the little fam as we perform tricks for his viewing pleasure. After W goes down for the evening (after he’s had his snack, brushed his two teeth, read no less than 9 books and we’ve unearthed at least 2 binkies) papa and I dig in for two. By the way, last night’s dinner was off the chart! Pan-Seared Halibut with Tomato Vinaigrette, garlic and herb cous-cous and roasted asparagus. All very easy to prepare and not time consuming in the least. I highly recommend giving it a try. We sipped from two bottles of vino and paddled around in tipsy conversation over candlelight. Yep, I’m getting spoiled real fast. Of course, I did hit the pillow at 10:30 p.m. but with a contented smile on my face. Bliss.

The cleaning lady came yesterday and picked up all of the random hairs and dust and crumbs around the house. She even wiped out the fridge. She rules. I found her vacuuming the stairs with her headphones on her head when I got home. She had the vacuum hose in one hand and the duster in the other as she ran it along the wood trim of the landing. She’s a cleaning machine, folks, and she sews so if you’re looking to treat yourself to a clean house and clothes that fit, she’s got Tuesday’s open.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

All In The Family

People, it’s freakin’ hot here. Supposed to be 101 today but feels like 11,101. Toss in 42% humidity and sprinkle on higher than usual levels of ozone and you’ve got yourself a version of hell. Thank goodness for AC and iced tea. I feel for all of those who labor outdoors this time of year. Yes, I am counting my blessings.

So I noticed the other day in my neighborhood newsletter that we are a cluster of kick ass family dwellings that TNR cats. TNR is an acronym for "trap-neuter-release.” Evidently you can distinguish these felines from the others by the 1/4" missing from one ear tip. Studies show that this is a more effective and less expensive means to control the stray and feral population. I think they should do this to sexual predators that live in our neighborhood, too...neuter them and then cut off a part of their ear so we’d know who they are from a distance. Just a thought.

Didn’t do much last night with the fam except soak them up like a dishtowel. Baby took to the stairs again (I forgot to mention that the other night when he was supposedly reading his books in his room, he was actually scaling the stairs. I stepped out for just a moment to help the dad with something in the kitchen and I thought to myself…”Hmmm, he sure is quiet.” Lo’ and behold, as I was making a dash to see where he was, I saw a flash of baby in the corner of my eye and he was making his final effort to reach the top stair! Egads! He’s a baby mountain goat!). Anyway, while I was covering him like an ump at a little league game, Willem climbed the steps. Daddy swooped by and planted a couple of kisses on Mama and evidently they were loud because Willem puckered up like a fish and started sucking air. Over and over, he made the smooching sound and it really became obvious to me how much he absorbs even when you think he’s not paying attention.

Papa made a pasta dish for dinner and let me tell you, it was delish! Proscuitto, peas, grated lemon, whipping cream…aaahhh. We also watched our all time favorite show, Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations, who, by the way, is currently stranded in Beirut . From what I’ve read though, he’s safe, partying his skinny ass off and drinking the city dry of it’s mojito makin’s. What else would you expect from the man? Seriously though, I'm sure this is a horrific scene and one they (the crew) won't soon forget. In last night’s episode filmed in Peru, he ate grilled Guinea Pig (“Hello, classroom pet!”) and swilled a homemade beverage in which its fermentation process is begun with saliva. I gag just thinking about it. But, he has the life, no?

Monday, July 17, 2006

Jelly Cat

On my desk: a refillable container of candy corn (Ack! The addiction has started early this year. It’s still 3.5 months until Halloween. I’m screwed!)

In my desk: Smarties, mini Kit Kats, Odwalla bars for when I feel guilty about all of the candy.

In Hugh & Shawn’s office: two overflowing bowls of candy, candy, gum and candy

In the kitchen at the office: today, there’s birthday cake and there’s usually donuts courtesy of Hugh

I sit on my duff a lot these days. Never thought I would ever have a desk job. Yes, on occasion, I am out with a client throwing a bash they won’t soon forget but until those specific dates, it’s the Secretary Spread for me. Tweedle dee.

I have mentioned before that my son’s favorite stuffed animal is Jelly Cat who took the place of sock monkey a few months back. Jelly Cat has a tail about 2.5 feet long, is shaped like a pear and filled with some sort of beans which makes it very heavy for a 10-month-old to carry. Willem is in the process of building some major biceps and triceps toting this thing around. You mention Jelly Cat and he’s off to find him. He’s so determined in his efforts to lug it around. This sometimes ends with a crash as the tyke is consistently knocked off balance by the load (or his melon head). He loves his JC, that’s for sure.

Hairy melon head...

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Birthday Party

Willem attended his first kiddie birthday party today. The b-day girl’s name is Harper and she turned 3. Her backyard was outfitted with two big inflatable pools and there was a lovely cement pond for the big kids to lounge in. Curious George was the theme (her mommy put her foot down when Dora The Explorer was requested) and with approximately 15 little ones running around, it was all curious business. I dressed Willem in his flaming swim trunks sans a swimmer diaper (Walgreen’s doesn’t carry them btw and not having any was a last minute discovery) and prayed that no turds surfaced anywhere. I took him over to the plastic pools where his potential posse was frolicking about. He took one look at the group and let me know he was having none of it and promptly headed for the adult pond for some swim time. He was quite content out there with his daddy. He’s such a big boy now, all walking and taking initiatives with abandoned cans of beer. He even tried to kiss a girl about 20-something his senior. He had his Walden moments as he’d wander out in to the yard and plop his soggy butt in the grass and play with small leaves. He missed his afternoon nap so I had prepared for the worst but he was pretty even keeled and charming. The highlight to him was discovering Harper’s doll stroller with a naked boy baby in it. He would’ve pushed that baby to our house if I’d let him.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Baby Band

Here is a pictorial inspired by the dad...

"This next tune is called Biter Biscuit..."

"Now if I could just get my fingers to go way...over...there..."

"The piano has been drinking...not meeeeeee..."

"Must kill 'em with this bad ass ending..."

"Mmmm...craft services back stage rocked!"

"I sold HOW MUCH merch?"

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Because I Completely Support This Cause

We all know good and well that most musicians struggle to make ends meet. While we go and support their art, it's not enough for them to live on much less provide the means to take care of their medical needs. I support SIMS and want you to consider doing the same. Here's how you can do just this...

SIMS is holding an eBay auction July 11-20 to raise funds to provide counseling and other mental health services for Austin-area musicians and their families (

Here’s a link to the eBay auction (where you can find photos and descriptions): .

Items up for bidding include:

ART GUITARS (Gibson Les Paul electric guitars, custom-designed):
Mike Judge’s portrait of “Butthead”
Bob Schneider’s abstract, “Rock, Sex, Drugs, and Roll”
Billy Gibbons’ (ZZ Top) “Gold Signature”
Robert Hurst’s “Jimmy Page Tribute”
Terry Allen’s “Guitarred and Feathered”

Gibson ZiegenBock Les Paul, signed by various Austin artists including Ray Benson, Redd Volkaert, Bob Schneider, Marcia Ball, del Castillo, and more
Jimmie Vaughn Autographed Fender Tex-Mex Stratocaster with detailed pinstripe decoration

Austin’s Music and Entertainment Television: bid on a chance to visit the studio and film a video break
Bob Schneider autographed art book, titled “I have seen the end of the world and it looks like this”
David Garza Artwork and Lyrics
Gift Certificate for Inn & Spa at Loretto in Santa Fe, New Mexico

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

The Latest In ‘Da Crib

It’s been a week of redundancies but delicious, snuggly, babbling baby redundancies while I wait for the dad figure to finish recording his record (which only means he’ll soon be back in the studio to mix it, polish it up and make it purdy for the masses). My floors are dirty, the cupboard is bare and my son’s wonderful sitter/teacher can’t spell the word “hamster.” You see, she was asking on a certain free website for some small animals to be donated to her new class of second graders. Because she has a lot on her mind (like taking care of the most important baby in the world, untangling herself from a yucky relationship and the serious illness of her mother), she missed the fact that her right pinkie finger typed a letter “P” and hence, she was looking for a “hampster.” Honest mistake, really. Hey, I used to spell “chicken” with a “H” thus creating “chickhen” and it made complete sense to me. Anyway, this guy emailed her with his panties in a wad and was all “You’re a teacher and you can’t spell…blah, blah…you should know better, tsk, tsk, nanny, nanny boo-boo” and made her feel really bad (like she didn’t feel bad enough already ‘cause, seriously, her mom is VERY ill in a cancer sort of way). I’m wondering if this jackass even had a hamster to give her and if not, why was he reading the listing, and if he does have a hamster then he can stick it up his butt. She’s an amazing caregiver, my son LOVES her, and I’m certain she’s a damn good educator, too.

Here is the little Houdini now...

Monday, July 10, 2006

She Blinded Me With Science

One of my sister-in-laws on my husband’s side, Marty/Martha/Myrtle the Turtle (don’t know why the family calls her that), is a real live scientist. Conjures up images of bad white hair, bubbling beakers, and stiff lab coats, huh? She's nothing like that. She lives in Santa Cruz with her sweet hubby and spends many hours of the days putting together proposals and giving presentations on scientific stuff that would blow your mind but more details on that in a minute. She also emails me on a regular basis which is nice because a) I’m getting to know her better, and b) she is full of good/interesting/supportive info. Just the other day she sent me the lyrics to this Bob Dylan song called “Lord, Protect My Child” and I wanted to share it with you, dear readers…

Lord, Protect My Child
Bob Dylan (1983)

For his age, he's wise
He's got his mother's eyes
There's gladness in his heart
He's young and he's wild
My only prayer is, if I can't be there,
Lord, protect my child

As his youth now unfolds
He is centuries old
Just to see him at play makes me smile
No matter what happens to me
No matter what my destiny
Lord, protect my child

While the world is asleep
You can look at it and weep
Few things you find are worthwhile
And though I don't ask for much
No material things to touch
Lord, protect my child

He's young and on fire
Full of hope and desire
In a world that's been raped, raped and defiled
If I fall along the way
And can't see another day
Lord, protect my child

Really resonated with me.

So, back to what she does. Right now she’s working on the immunological tolerance in a mouse model. She says understanding the tolerance is important for our existence. When it fails, certain diseases develop (MS, cancer cells escape detection, etc.) Also contributes to organ transplant rejection. They use engineered mice to study the tolerance using a skin grafting model. I know, it sounds cruel but necessary, right? Then the mice prepare a speech for the scientists about their experience with the grafting…what it felt like, how it messed with their fur appearance, what the other mice thought…no, I’m just kidding but honestly, this study is no laughing matter. She’s also waiting on approval from our frat boy president for a NASA project that will someday involve sending people to Mars (“Hey, let’s go pollute another planet!). NASA is interested in knowing exactly how ionizing radiation affects our genes, brains, and tissues. She wrote a proposal for it that involves newborn human foreskin (!), more of those mice with spare time on their hands, and ionizing radiation. Sci-fi, no? There’s more to it all. I’m just paraphrasing what she told me but it’s fascinating. And to remind you, I know a real live scientist.

Saturday, July 08, 2006


I recently found our camcorder and could just kick myself for not documenting more of my child’s past 9 months of his life (like blogging and photos aren’t enough). Hubby found a snippet of film on it shot when baby was a mere two weeks and some change and I couldn’t believe that it was me in the video with this tiny baby. I looked so puffy, so lost, so in love, so tired, just winging it. There I am changing him in the closet on his changing table in the apartment we had to live in before we could move back in to the house. There I am with his little frame in my lap and taping his hands together playing patty cake. There’s daddy giving the burrito swaddle an honest go and handing the baby my way as he begins to squawk. I felt like I was watching someone else’s life. It was so surreal…and sweet.

Over the last few weeks in an attempt to make up for lost time, I have begun filming W doing everything. I am desperately clinging to his baby days as I also watch them go drifting by. Lately, I have felt that I need to quit my job and be there for all of the milestones, to share in his sweet world. I go to work feeling conflicted and angry that I’m not there for him. It’s hard and I guess most working moms go through this.

The other day I was watching the clips of things I had filmed and it wasn’t until I had started watching the 5th clip that I realized I start each one by saying “Hey, what are you doing?” I say it EVERY TIME like any minute W’s going to respond. “Well, mom, I’m putting these plastic magnetic letters in my mouth now.” or “I’m walking to the window.” or “I’m unraveling the toilet paper and eating it.” Do I do that to him all of the time? Do I have to ask because I really don’t know or am I just trying to make conversation? I think I’ll go back and re-edit it with a Star Wars score or something. That repetitive question isn’t very groundbreaking plus it’s annoying.

So, hubby is in the studio recording a new record. Yea! He’s been in there since Wednesday and will finish up on Tuesday. That means that I only get to see him in the morning when I go out to the studio to wake him or he comes in on his own accord to take over baby duty till the sitter arrives. It’s lonely and it’s almost like he’s out on the road touring or something. We have this arrangement where he sleeps out back so he can stay out as late as he needs to and doesn’t wake me when he finally comes home. He also gets to sleep in because there’s no baby drooling on him to wake up or Elmo singing in his ear. It’s a necessary situation so he can get work done and I can get a full night’s sleep. But like I said it’s mighty lonely in pretend single mom land this week.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Free Willy

Over the weekend on a rainy day, 5.5 (the .5 being Willem) of us piled into the car and headed to the aquarium in Corpus, just a short drive away from the beach house. As we crossed the great arched bridge that towered over our destination, we noticed the mammoth snake-like line of people with the same brilliant idea as ours. We all moaned and slumped in our seats like disappointed children. What’s worse than jockeying for position in front of a small wall of glass hoping to catch a glimpse of what is too terrified to swim out of its hiding place? We didn’t bring the stroller to the beach house and I’d forgotten the sling at home so I rigged a makeshift version with my sarong and stuffed baby in there as we ventured out to find our place in line. Thankfully, the rain was light but my load wasn’t. When we entered the sardine can of fish and warm bodies, I noticed a sign that said “Stroller rentals - $3.” Halleluiah! About the same time, a woman swooped out of nowhere and claimed the last one. Foiled! We collectively scrambled to the dolphin show that was just beginning. Of course the crowd was about 10 people deep so we decided to go down below the performance pool where the underwater version could be viewed…sorta. You could see the lower half of the poor dolphins race about, shoot out of water and come crashing back down like bags of sand. They had scratches on their bodies resembling graffiti tags and seemed cramped on their aquatic stage. It was heartbreaking. My son really could’ve cared less about the main event and only wanted to put his mouth on the railing and touch the hair of people sitting around us. The highlight of the show was when one of the dolphins pooped. That, I’m sad to say, got the biggest reaction from the group.

We pushed our way out and made the rounds trying to view turtles, sharks, otters, and other captive animals. Willem wanted to lead his own tour and nearly disappeared in a sea of kneecaps and Bermuda shorts. Next he decided it was time to nurse and made his trademark “tap the keg” sounds and ducked down in the general vicinity of said kegs (I make them sound HUGE, don’t I?). He twisted and fussed as I tried to discreetly yank one out. The sarong helped with the coverage issue but the situation was still very apparent to those with wandering eyes (i.e. bored daddies, single daddies, young and old daddies). We all wandered around aimlessly, trying to find the value in the money spent and soon decided to throw in the towel. We half-heartedly piled back into the car, headed back and FINALLY finished watching the 3-day long movie, King Kong. Are you kidding me? That movie stunk! And what was with all of those giant bug scenes? Don’t even get me started.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Nearly The Tenth Month

My sweet, little Id,

Mommy is wondering when she can officially call you a toddler. Is it when you are walking and talking and can throw a fit? This past month you have tapped into your own version of them all. Although you are barely 10 months old, you have managed to change the whole landscape of what was once a quiet, peaceful place where butterflies landed on our hands and rainbows were around every corner.

Now it’s a three-ring circus with you as the clown, the monkey, and the hoop jumping dog, the sword swallower and the ferocious lion. I am merely an audience member completely enraptured in your performances but sometimes I have to wield the megaphone and play the ringleader to rein you in. You practiced walking this weekend on the beach. It was a great place for you to do the step, step, step, stumble, step mambo. You’d release my finger on your initiative and head for the deep blue see while heaving with excitement. You know the greatness of what you’ve accomplished and do it with much fervor and happiness. You have since applied the technique to indoor travel and this has just about made me completely grey. You come at me like you are about to eat me; arms spread for balance, a baby Godzilla in our home. What was once a forest of potential bumps and bruises is now a jungle of likely gashes and abrasions. Just last night, you were creeping along the living room wall and as I walked into the kitchen I happened to turn to look your way and you were right behind me with that wide-eyed thrilled expression. I could’ve tripped over you so easily! You also nearly managed to put a hole in the sheet rock with that noggin’ of yours when you took a spill after racing across the office. I really hate to see your efforts thwarted but I guess that’s part of learning. Baby proofing the house is the project for the week. Tonight I will look for a bell to clip to your diaper so I know where you are at all times.

You have finally grown two lovely little pearls for teeth and they make you look so animated and cuter, if you can believe that! I bought you toothpaste and a toothbrush for them today so we’ll soon make that part of the already lengthy bedtime routine. I know you’ll love it as it's already a challenge prying your tiny hands away from my toothbrush.

Your little vocabulary is full of sounds and sounds that could be words. You imitate me like a parrot and I am realizing how easily you could make “jackass” a part of your verbal repertoire. I “yee-haw!” and you do the same without words. A dog barks and you bark. A fire truck goes by and after it’s long gone you are making the sound of the siren. You yelled “Iggy! Iggy! Igg!”, the name of your uncle, over the weekend and it first happened at the grocery with Igg and Daddy. You were in the produce section blurting his name like you had a say in his taste in grocery items. The best is when you are in your own little world, standing alone and speaking a language from deep in your throat like a you’re using an electrolarynx. You gesture with one hand like a dictator and mutter with raised eyebrows and tilts of the head as if you are giving a thoughtful speech. What will you be when you grow up?

You love your daddy and there’s no doubting that. He’s recently become someone you know you can trust and find comfort from when needed. You are completely enraptured when he starts singing or plays the guitar, his biggest fan. I love hearing the two of you interacting with your own language and conversations. He’s not your typical daddy and this makes you a very lucky little boy.

I can’t imagine how much more growing you are going to do before your first birthday. I really just want you to slow down a little bit because it’s all going so fast. These growth spurts are too much for your mommy to handle. I don’t want to miss a moment so try and take it a little slower.


Because I'm At Work

Here's how the hair turned out (yes, I took this photo myself)...

Of course, it looks nothing like this today. I slept on it wet and am now sporting some savage cowlicks in back because I didn't have time to fix it this morning. Thankfully, it's still long enough to put put into a pig tail (twas once a pony tail but tis now the length of a sow's).

I've much more to write but that will be for later today. Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday!