Little White Lie

Okay, I admit it. The post before this one was a smoke screen, a weak attempt to convince myself that my relationship with Facebook was more akin to a giddy coffee date than a gluttonous multi-day orgy but orgy it was. I don’t actually linger there like a ne'er do well barfly but do check in possibly 20 times a day for a quick fix, a social bump, if you will. In my opinion, that’s over-commitment when there are other, more important activities to be done…like blogging (“Dear mom, I’m so sorry I made you look at that picture of those green cupcakes for so many days.”). So I’m solemnly swearing to fewer daily voyeuristic activities on Facebook and more engagement with the family, the pet, and the world around me in real time. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it.

My SXSW exposure was minimal this year, a stark contrast to when I once worked for the man behind the giant curtain of the conference. I didn’t see or do much but it was really just enough. Tuesday night we embraced our friends from Spain as their energy and enthusiasm engulfed us at Vino Vino. We sang, danced and drank bubbly until after midnight. W thought it appropriate timing to come down with a cold/cough/allergy-type bug that kept us home the rest of the week so for once I got plenty of rest, was hangover free and the bank account remained intact. Plus the Hubs got mucho attention as he bounced from gig to gig to gig while working like a rock n roll hound dog. Laundry got done, meals were on the table and the coffee crutch was delivered bedside in the mornings. Saturday was a double dip as the band played two shows and the kiddo and I saddled up for a full day of rock n roll hoochie cooin’. It was great to be back in the fray. W is well versed in the art of backstage etiquette and took to it like a duckling to water. Here, now, is a photo essay of the day…

Doesn't get much cheesier than this...
























On the hunt for the backstage catering like a baby shark...























"This is called a keg. You will appreciate this later in life."























Never too early to learn how to string a guitar.



















W misses the entire first show. This was good for his attitude later tho'.























Backstage at the San Jose. Great evening!



















"Hey, someone get that kid away from me. Scaaaaaaary."


















* Dear Bloggerdotcom, why do you have to be such a turd site? I've been trying to upload pictures for like EVER and now you're not letting me upload any more at all. What gives? Do you need a lap dance? Yours, K

Leftovers

Last night's dinner: leftovers from Friday night which was Eggplant and Spinach Lasagne Spirals. I’ve been making these since the recipe came out in 2002. It’s very time consuming but well worth the effort and the presentation is unique for lasagne.



Today's money saving tip: shop at your neighborhood Goodwill. I spent about an hour there today combing through the kids clothes. Thank goodness the music they pipe in is decent because the place has the odor of neglect and abuse and makes it hard for me to breathe. I did find some great shirts and long johns for W for about two bones a piece and scored on a Junk Food brand “I’m A Pepper” t-shirt in my size and in great shape that would normally retail for about $20. Let me say that the young girls clothing selection is the best and so are the newborn options because infants wear their stuff for like 7 minutes before they’ve outgrown it so at Goodwill that stuff is in superb shape. Take some time on your lunch break, put on some scented lipgloss to mask the stale air there and dig in. I bet you’ll find something you can’t live without.

So since I’m not working and the Hubs is now home we’re getting to spend much more time together. This is both good and bad. This morning it was nice to drop off the tot at school together and then head to town lake to walk for about an hour with the dog but you would’ve never guessed the Hubs was going to be my athletic partner in crime. He was wearing his super skinny pencil leg jeans with Doc Martins as ankle weights and his rocker looking Ray Bans. I had to beg him to leave his bajillion dollar leather jacket behind because, seriously, I didn’t want to exercise with Johnny Cash. Towards the end of the hike I was certain his hiney was going to flame up from the friction he was complaining about back there. Good times with more to come.

Here are some pics from our days in Marfa...

Regrowth

Yesterday the Hubs picked up W from school and I had the chance to do whatever I wanted to do when I got off work (go to Target! shoe shopping! Sephora! read!) but instead I went home and pulled weeds until my fingers cramped. The early evening was cloudy, a bit breezy, perfect weather to hunker down in the beds and dig. But it was more than digging and tugging and cursing the gnarly roots. I was deep in thought, buried in curiosities, fears, excitement and responsibilities of the weeks to come. It was blissful and I look forward to my next adventure providing me the many opportunities to work and think, work and reflect, work and enjoy instead of being twisted up about a five mile traffic jam, a long line at the post office, or a person driving out of turn at my neighborhood 5-way stop. Yeah, that one really gets in my crawl. I will be forced to slow down and really smell the yucca (while keeping an eye out for snakes and loose dogs and scorpions). Really can’t wait.

On the home front we are trying to correct a wrong that we thought was oh so cute and convenient (i.e. we were being lazy) and get our son to sleep at a reasonable hour IN HIS OWN BED. It all happened by default, thanks to Miss Jo who came over last night bearing gifts. After dinner, the conversation spun to W’s sleeping habits and she very matter of factly said you need to put him to bed between 8 and 9 and Hubs why don’t you do it now or something like that. I cringed inside knowing W hadn’t really eaten his dinner but there’s no time like the present, right? Books were read, PJs were donned and protests were heard. The Hubs finally emerged from the bedroom as W whipped himself in a frenzy that lasted half an hour (or what seemed like an eternity for me) before he was quiet, exhausted by his efforts to get someone's attention. Miss Jo hung around until it was over probably knowing full well that I would’ve gone in to his room to rescue him and be the hero. W slept through the night if you consider “waking at 5 a.m. and ready to get the day started” sleeping through the night. But I’m committed to making this work and the Hubs is committed to being the bedtime person and I will pick up the slack when he’s not home. Besides our relationship could use a shot in the arm and having that evening time together is just what Miss Jo ordered.

Hump Day Catch Up

Monday morning at the office began with a power surge so strong it knocked out our email until just this morning. Several client emails so far have alluded to the fact that I “must be on vacation” and they hope I’m having fun wherever I am! But no, I’ve been sitting here for the past 2 days twiddling me thumbs. Boring. The office did take a field trip yesterday to the Shoe Pavilion. What a collection of ugly shoes, or so I thought.

So here’s a pile of the latest news:

-Went home this past weekend to attend my grandmother’s funeral. Tons of family there and folks I hadn’t seen in ages. Everyone’s either gotten much older or has procreated and both are interesting phenomena to me. The faces of the elderly have changed dramatically but their eyes and the sounds of their voices reveal who they are so clearly. The faces of the children resemble their parents in an almost cartoonish but beautiful way. We all had a good laugh at the little people we have brought in to the family over the years. I had volunteered to do a reading at the service and it turned out to be the lengthiest and verbally challenging. I had a few minutes to read through it but was a bit nervous knowing I’m terribly Bible verse challenged. When cued, I wandered up to the pulpit, bowed as instructed, positioned the mic (which promptly flopped forward and thumped loudly on to the actual Bible) and took a deep breath. I started off smoothly but soon the words began to swim together and I stumbled over the big ones never used in the English language and barely made it through. As soon as I joined the Hubs back at my seat, he leaned over and whispered, “Sobriety test.”

-W got to spend lots of time with his two cousins from Kentucky. The girls flank him in age on either side and so they made for a mighty team. Meanwhile the rest of us played Wii ‘til our arms hurt. What happen to working on a puzzle as a family activity? Lo impact, less cursing in front of the children.

-On Monday evening I relinquished my beloved Xterra to CarMax. It was a bittersweet separation but completely necessary knowing that the mileage was high, that it needed some pricy repairs and that I had a car payment due on Saturday. W and I hung out there for nearly four long hours. Thank goodness they are cool with tots running amok and keep in mind, too, that every time I test drove a car, I had to reinstall the carseat. Nice. The Volvo wagon I had my heart set on turned out to be junky and worn out cosmetically. The newer Xterras seemed so cheaply manufactured compared to my solid ’01. I was still totally in love with a gas guzzling SUV (I know, it’s so wrong) and ended up driving a Pathfinder off the lot. It’s like an Xterra with chest hair…leather, deep tinted windows, all power, 4WD, Bose system, etc. Crappy gas mileage so I guess I’ll forgo all overpriced franchised coffee stops and buy some carbon credits instead. Totally serious about that.

-The Hubs is in the studio again all week so W and I are an exclusive duo. Tonight we’ll be heading to the rock n’roll chop shop to get W’s ‘do done. He looks like a Monkee band member reject. Pics to come.

Spring Dun Sprung

Days at the office are very sloooooow now that the conference has left the building. We collectively fill the hours with tons of web surfing. Don’t know how many times I click on the craigslist.org “pets” link to see all of those unwanted animals…dogs, cats, geckos, horses, potbelly pigs…needing homes. I imagine adopting all of them and then I imagine divorce papers promptly arriving. I seek out toddler beds, patio umbrellas, black sling back flats and catch up on the news in Marfa. Oh, Marfa is my boyfriend. Soon we will be together (more on that another time).

Lately the Hubs has been locked away in his studio poking at the corners of his mind for song lyrics. The band will be recording again soon, an effort to wrap up the newest record, and he needs material. In the meantime, W and I bide our time bonding over Matchbox cars and books. Lots of books. It’s pretty awesome when he knows the words of a story and blurts them out along with me like he can read already. At night when he yells, “Nuggle time, mama. Wets go uptairs,” we huddle under the covers like giddy campers under the stars. He plays with his cars (“Okay! Nice to see you. Have a good weekend!”) while I sink deep in the pages of a book. Over the weekend, I finished Running With Scissors…totally too weird for me…and right now I’m reading a book I probably shouldn’t be…Deep End Of The Ocean by Jacquelyn Mitchard. It’s really good but about a 3-year-old boy who is kidnapped. I find it pleasing on a certain level to be able to relate to the mother character now that I have a son. The book is much more compelling this way. Next on the bedside table reading list is The Wonder Spot by Melissa Banks. I enjoyed her first book so I hope this one is on the same level.

Don’t want to forget to give some mad props to Mother Nature who has very recently decided to turn our formerly shades of grey city into a Technicolor playground. Spring is definitely in the air and it sure looks purdy.

I Are Here

Hello guests and readers of my blah, blah, blah. Forgive me for my tardiness. I sometimes type away at a blog entry but refuse to post it until I have pics to back it up which is a bad idea because I sometimes can’t get to downloading those needed pics.

I know Thanksgiving is a forgone thought in everyone’s minds now and you’re probably caught in the headlights of the Christmas highway already but to recap…we had a stupendous turkey day with my brother-in-law and his fam. Not only did this mean we had to do zero traveling over the holiday but it also meant that the food was guaranteed to be divine. My BIL (brother-in-law) could be a chef, should be, in fact and the Hubs and I are constantly harassing him on many occasions with questions in the midst of culinary chaos at home. For the grand feast we contributed the Italian sausage dressing and green beans in brown butter with oregano and pine nuts and the BIL prepared the heritage turkey with Marsala gravy, mashed potatoes with walnut oil, Hudson's on the Bend corn pudding, and of course, cranberry sauce. There were also homemade biscuits and yeast rolls. This is my plate before complete consumption. Burp.














As of late, we’re still wrestling the tot at bedtime. Actually it’s way after bedtime when we finally get him to sleep. After all the months and months and months of easily putting him to bed, saying goodnight and, at worse, shedding a few remorseful tears before conking out we’ve gone to the darkest side of hell. The silver lining is that I have had to relinquish bedtime duties to the Hubs who now puts W to bed and hangs with him ‘til he drifts off. Totally works for me. I was sound asleep by 9:30 p.m. last night. This was after I took myself on a date to Asti, sat at the bar and read (see updated “What I’m Reading List” for details). I sank into a bowl of duck rigatoni, beet and endive salad and two juicy glasses of wine. Perfect evening.

Speaking of the Hubs, seems as though W is finally taking a shine to him. Yeah, so it’s only taken about 26 months and the Hubs IS his dad, I promise. He’s finally realizing that he's Disneyland on legs. “I wanna fie, I wanna fie!” he says as the Hubs picks him up and swings him through the air. “C’mon, daddie, c’mon daddie, c’mon daddie” he repeats as he heads to his room. “Daddie play guitar!” he yells while sitting behind his little drum kit just about every morning. And for your viewing pleasure here’s daddy and W jamming away now…

Fun, Fun, Family Fun!

Holy hell! Where have I been? We did an event yesterday in Georgetown so Monday and yesterday were all consumed with those details. The weekend was packed full of family time and almost in the “that is too much quality time” sorta way.

Saturday, we packed up the car and headed out of town to see the Hubs perform. Baby and I totally rocked out. It was the first show W had seen the Hubs play with this particular band and the kid fell into the groove like he was a roadie or something. I worried that he wouldn’t wear his ginormo 70’s style safety headphones to keep the volume turned down in his little ears but he wore them like a champ. He yelled, “Daddie, dittar!” and “Yeayyyyyy!” and high fived the sound guy like they toured together in a past life or something. Bling Bling drove in with her fab son to catch the show. We got shunted up into the balcony seats for a private perspective of the show. That’s always a good thing b/c most of the fans are weirrrrrrrd. I handed W over to Bling and he immediately passed out in her comfy, warm arms.

Our room happened to be the awesome grand suite of this old, haunted hotel and it was totally paid for by the promoter. After the show, I turned in with a sleepy baby in my arms. As I wrestled for the key to unlock the door, a girl came up behind me, her energy a bit charged in the negative direction. I said hello and the smirk on her face barely unfolded as she replied with a “Hey.” As she entered her room I heard her yell out, “This is NOT the grand suite. This is a petite suite and I swear…” and her voice drifted off as she slammed the door. She was part of a wedding party and obviously not happy with her lodging situation. I grinned to myself as I stepped in and locked the door behind. It’s cool to be a rock star’s wife, oh yes it is.

Everyone slept late the next morning, a clear indication to me that the Hubs had partied pretty late and W was getting sick. Check and check. We had plans to meet Gogo and Richard at the zoo and when we got there, the place was just coming alive. We made a beeline to see the monkeys to avoid a later crowd crush and the idea paid off hugely. As we approached the habitat for the silverback gorilla, we saw the male sitting all alone in a clearing sunning himself. He saw us and lumbered very slowly over on all fours and rested his massive frame against the 4 inches of glass that separated us. We all got down to his level and were truly awestruck by his brilliance, size and beauty. He splayed out like an Amazonian ruler waiting for someone to peel him a banana. His eyes looked at us unconcerned and calm. We all silently took in the moment until a family came along and the gorilla rose and walked away. The Hubs and I were very moved by the encounter but it also made us very sad for him and the plight of his diminishing species.

We ran amok for a few hours, dodging the clusters of gawkers and eating really bad food. It was crucial to our plan to make sure the departure home revolved around W's naptime and to make it back in time to hook up with some friends for paella, vino and toddler rompin’. We arrived a tad late but totally enjoyed the visit at their lovely home. We cherish CaCa and her parents and look forward to much more commingling.

P.S. As I assumed W is illin’ again, another bi-monthly germ warfare courtesy of his school, the Growing Spore. He had to come home early Monday but hopefully he can return tomorrow or the Hubs is going to divorce us.

38 Done Over

So things are getting back to normal here at the Fantasy ranch. The Hubs is riding out the wobbly remains of jet lag but I think the trip has put him on an awesome schedule. The past two mornings he’s been up around 6 a.m. and I awake to both of my boys creeping into the bedroom, sleepy smiles on their faces, as they snuggle in next to me to steal the warmth between the sheets.

Yesterday the Hubs insisted that we pretend that the 2nd was my birthday so I came home from work to a plethora of little surprises. This after I had to go to the school to retrieve W because the Hubs forgot to reinstall the car seat (don’t cha’ know I reminded him several times) and found it missing when he went to strap in the tot. Then I had to take the long way home so the Hubs could race back to finish setting up the goodies. I found balloons (much to W’s delight!), flowers, a box full of homemade, handmade bath products from this place, yummy Italian cheese, salamis, chocolates, Prosecco, and a tape player with headphones attached and on top of a piece of paper that said “Play Me” on it. The Hubs had written me a song, a beautiful song, a “make you tear up and cry like a baby” kinda love song. The last time he wrote me a song, it was about my so called "Perfect World" and how I really needed to get my shit together. Yeah, so I was having issues then. I think that song could've been written for many. If you can relate, wave your hands in the air.

We continued the Italian-themed evening with a lovely dinner at Vespaio (*Personal note to my brother-in-law…I had the sweetbreads, oh yes, I did.) and returned home in the torrential rain completely stuffed and exhausted.

It’s good to have everyone back together, even if it’s for a short while. There’s a busy summer ahead, folks, more travelin’ and solo parenting. Yeehaw!

Hubs

W and I went to Fredericksburg to see Pop Pop, Wella and W's aunt and uncle over the weekend. It's a lovely and quick drive out, an hour and half of Elmo on the laptop and before you know it, we're there. As you can see, W was completely worn out by the good times. He was so tired, he put his paci in backwards and conked right out in his car seat...





















W sending an email to his daddy who is still in Italy. He misses you and so do I.

Say Yeah!

I awoke to the sweetness of normalcy this morning. The Hubs was flopped on my side of the bed, the birds were practically sitting on our windowsill singing directly in to our bedroom and W was shouting “Mahma! Mahma!” from his crib downstairs. Earlier in the week I was holed up with baby in the guest bed delirious with fatigue and fear as he fought his horrible viruses. Those were turbulent nights/days/hours/minutes, my friends, but all is well now.

After the Hubs climbed into the taxi this morning and headed to the airport, (an event that thrilled the diapers off of W, I mean, a real taxi was at the front door!) I finished the morning routine of getting us dressed and headed out the door. Behind our house is what used to be our studio/guest/rehearsal space/doghouse for the Hubs. It’s now been rented by a friend of mine who is quickly becoming a friend of W’s. While I was upstairs getting the last of our things together, I heard W's friendly little voice call out from the balcony, “Hi Hee-ewe!” as H was leaving for work. This is a first since W usually runs in the other direction when he comes through the back gate. As charming as the moment seemed, I flashed forward to a vision of a modern day Dennis the Menace bothering Mr. Wilson. I already have to keep him from looking in his windows like a minature Peeping Tom. There could be a rental discount in H's future.

Lovely weekend ahead. A good friend from back home is coming to spend the weekend with us. I’ve also secured a sitter for tomorrow night so I can be “just me” with my friends for a few hours and no one's mama or spouse. I got a manicure this morning after dropping W at school just to feel extra feminine and sassy but it took all of my wits to stay awake throughout. Still pretty frayed around the edges and I think I'm feeling something suspiciously tickly in my throat but I'm sure I can beat it with lots of vitamin C and vino. It’s been a very long and spooky week but, thankfully, we made it through and the weekend is looking really good.

Clap Your Hands

Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post or wrote to me directly. W is doing much better today which means he wanted macaroni and cheese for breakfast, danced on the bar to the Arcade Fire and asked to “Whash paci?” when I was at the sink doing my makeup before work. While we were enduring the worst moments of the illnesses, all I could do was wonder how other parents did it, too. Single parents, those with several children, or those without much money. My heart went out to them in understanding and empathy. You have to walk a mile in someone’s shoes to get it, huh? I do know that as a parent something inside of you kicks in, a tremendous will, a determination to fight for whatever your child needs at all cost, and you just do it. You stay up all night every night, you cuddle for hours on end, you respond to every whimper, and you try to keep serenity in the home despite the unfamiliar horror of it all. And then you cry with relief in the shower when it’s all finally over. I never thought I’d be taking my son to the ER at nineteen months of age but I am so grateful it wasn’t more serious than it was.

The Hubs leaves on a trip in the morning to Italy for 12 days and returns on my birthday. I am green with envy but more happy that he has the opportunity to go song write in such an amazing place. This is what he should be doing and it’s been a long time coming. Bring us home a number one single, darling.

Such A Scream

Last weekend, while lounging with W on the sofa (translation: I lay there while W climbs up on the arm of the couch, supporting himself by holding on to the piano and then leaps like Spiderbaby on to my legs and cushions over and over and over), he managed to smack his giant noggin’ on my nose not once but twice. The first time I saw stars and wanted to cry. The second time I saw the man in the moon. It was like being whacked with a baseball thrown by Roberto Clemente (I didn’t know who that was until I Googled “baseball star”). And then he did it again. Oh my freakin’ hello dolly, it hurt! At that point, actual lounging on the sofa was out of the question as I waited for a gush of blood to spill forth. A few days later, the Hubs was tossing W around and he had a similar experience except W’s foot smacked him in the nose. The Hubs had to take a time out and headed in the other direction in anticipation of his nose falling off in his hands. I could totally relate.

Three days in the gym so far this week. I’m an exercising fool but I just cringe from the sweaty armpit smell that owns the place and the glossy residue of other exercisers creeping me out on all of the equipment. I’m still reacquainting myself with the machines. It’s been a while. I’m the type of person that sips her water bottle while nonchalantly glancing at the instructions on how not to maim yourself while pretending I’m just rehydrating and about to do some serious reps. I hate to look like I don’t know what I’m doing. I’d laugh at me if I saw me working out. I also don’t walk around the locker room totally naked like most of the women do. My towel cuts off my circulation it’s on so tight. This morning a woman was practically dressing in the actual workout area she was so close to the door. I do most of my dressing still bearing my towel which results in my underwear being totally bunched in my crack, my bra twisted around my torso like barbed wire, and my clothes spilling haphazardly out of the locker. Yeah, I need to get a grip.

Baby Knows Best

Shorty has bounced back and is making up for lost time since that weird 24 hour illness he had. I’m glad he’s feeling like a rockstar. Taking care of a sick kid sucks and to top it off, the Hubs groans that he feels like he’s getting sick every single time the tot is under the weather.

W was screaming and yelling and running amok this morning in the best way. The Hubs and I happened to engage in a brief snit that raised our voices just below a shout and W jumped in, gesturing madly, pacing, and shaking his fists. That made us stop and watch and then we shut the hell up. Gotta be careful how we say things these days. He’s a good little reminder of how ridiculous we can be. He endeared me to him when he insisted I sit with his new Matchbox racecar at the breakfast nook table and say “Voom” over and over. “Mumma, sit dun pwease,” he’d ask every time I try to continue cleaning the kitchen. The kid has definitely realized that ‘please’ is the magic word around here and opens the door to all that he wants. Soon I’ll have to teach him that this really isn’t the case and that the world is completely unfair. Maybe that’s a good job for the Hubs.

TGIF, but it’s supposed to be effin’ cold tomorrow. Like 40-something degrees! With rain! That’s a lot of soggy in-laws at the reunion. The same thing happened 3 years ago when the event was held in San Antonio. Thunder, lightning, the tent was nearly lifted off its poles. At one point a prayer was being said to acknowledge all that had passed. The aggressive wind whipped up hair-dos and brightly colored skirts. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Hubs tear off like a freaked out cat and hide in a nearby house. The guy’s terrified of lightning and is certain that any bolt that hits the earth is headed for his noggin. If tomorrow is anything like that then we will have to miss the big day. And, of course, I just packed away all of my winter clothing into the attic.

Wine chugging, I mean, tasting tonight. I’ll have much to report. The cast of characters is a unique one. Should make things very interesting.

Wendielu, this is for you...

Family Affair

W is sick yet again. He seems to be sleeping through it completely. I think he’s been awake a total of an hour today. I stayed home till 2 but needed to head to the office to finish up unfinished business. I’m waiting for the little guy to surface so I can try to access what exactly is wrong. It’s fever-oriented and it comes and goes. Around 5 a.m. this morning he was all clammy and drenched. I gave him his Elmo sippy cup and he nearly drained the entire thing. In fact, he fell asleep while he was drinking it in my arms. Such a bummer to have him ill again. Daycare is the culprit, I’m sure.

*Note: I just got an email from another mommy whose little guy attends W’s school. Seems he’s got the “hand, foot, and mouth” virus. He’s in a different class but viruses know no boundaries. The virus is caused by contact with poop. Poop, people.

We have a huge weekend of family ahead of us. Saturday is a family reunion of massive proportions. The Hubs is Hispanic and so his extended family is rather enormous. We are taking over a park next to Lake Austin somewhere. There will be a silent auction, music, tons of food, and a family photo taken. I’m thinking panoramic here. My mother asked that I take many pictures. I told her that when she sees them she’ll think we are in Mexico.

Friday, the Hubs is hosting a small wine tasting at our house which seemed like a bad idea to me simply because getting somewhat sloshed the day before the reunion may have lingering adverse affects. Now W is illin’ so that adds a whole new layer to the bad idea pie. I also have no desire to clean the house or prepare some nibbles for this thing. I didn’t conjure this in to being, he did, so he can play Martha Stewart for once. I’m just going to sit back and enjoy myself and of course, I’ll clean the mess up in the morning.

I Am Doll Parts

My nose looks like cleaved tenderloin from the constant Kleenex wiping. Yet another daycare or playground bug W has managed to share with the family. I woke up this morning feeling like my head was stuffed inside a giant sock. While I was gone over the weekend, he shared a little something with the Hubs, too. Instead of returning to a duo as excited to see me as a pair of Lab pups, I got the nipping of the shins from W while the Hubs just looked at me forlornly and with a little blame, I think. I know it’s harder for him to spend large chunks of time with the kiddo than it is for me. He’d rather be playing chess online, watching Mad Money or working a crossword puzzle in peace. Plus he’s a hypochondriac so every sniffle and cough is taken very seriously. Someone please call Dr. Quinn.

I’m wearing this really cute summery top today, sleeveless and all, that I got at Old Navy. Flip flops, too. I like to wear things like this when I know the weather is going to be bad (major thunderstorms on the radar for today). It’s my sort of “eff you, Mother Nature, I play by my own rules” or something like that. The tank top would look awesome on me if I had any boobs. They have completely vacated the premesis and I am as flat as a pancake. Completely disheartening, especially since I found my E cup nursing bras in a box of pregger clothes I lent to a friend yesterday. Her hooters are bigger now than they were AFTER she had her first child and we pointed and made sweeping hand gestures around her giant ta-tas in the front yard for all the neighbors to see. She suffers the same consequence as me after nursing and also ends up with nothing but a breastbone. We often talk about getting a tandem boob job in L.A. and then enjoying recovery on the beach with nothing but dental floss covering our new girls. Should we wear waxed or unwaxed floss?

All Part Of The Plan

I married a wonderful man but a very messy man, he is. This defect of character is a learned one and was instilled at an early age. He is number nine of ten children and as you can imagine by the ninth child, a parent could give a rats ass about a trail of destruction left in a youth’s wake. Besides, that’s when the maid earned her keep. Then there was college and who in their right mind cleaned up after themselves in college, especially if you were a dude? Add to that a few other messy roommates and you’ve got a situation for OSHA. Since I have full knowledge of this condition, I have begun grooming Willem in a different direction and I’ll be damned if it’s not working! W and I practice putting things back when he’s done with them and that’s gone rather smoothly. He’s a big help when unloading the dishwasher and dryer (little guy practically crawls in there to retrieve socks), too. Just the other day, he returned about 50 multi-colored straws to the plastic container they came in and tried to reach the countertop to put it back. Two more feet in height and he would’ve succeeded. This morning while the Hubs and I were getting ready to leave the house, W started pulling things off of the bedside table on dada’s side and handing them to him…a guitar pic, a pen, eye drops, etc. This was a little trying for the Hubs who doesn’t like to put things away on his own and was being forced by a 16.5 month old to do so. His thank yous grew from genuine appreciation to more and more stern. W picked up a dirty black sock and offered it up. It was then that the Hubs figured out how to make this little exercise work in his favor. He showed W the dirty clothes hamper and the rest is toddler history. Before long, dada’s side of the room was clear of clothing debris and the Hubs didn’t have to pick up a stitch. W did the work for him so guess what? My side of the bed is next!

In other news, the Hubs is making it harder and harder for me and some of my parental friends to watch certain children’s programming. His interpretations of them are concerning, to say the least. Although I have never watched Clifford the Big Red Dog, I’m certain that I will never do so, thanks to the Hubs. He pointed out that this little red puppy becomes a giant red dog when a little girl climbs up on its back. Envision…interpret…retreat!

"Dear Hubs, Step away from the PBS."

Tardy, Tardy, Tardy

It's been over a week since the last post. The last time I took a break was when I had just given birth to the spawn. It's not my intention to be breaking now but I barely have time to write. Schedules have changed since the first of the year. Work loads have increased but that will only last until March 20. Between now and then let's just say I'm fucked. All is well in W's household 'tho. Well, mostly. W is sprouting the rest of his teeth which is the equivalent to all of them. He gnaws his fist constantly, moans in agony hourly and wears a 99.8 fever like a woolly sweater. Uncomfortable. The Hubs is working on a record release scheduled for early next month and me, well, let's just say I am sprouting an average of 3 grey hairs a day. It's the time of year when I am my busiest and such is the nature of the beast that is my job. I will write more maybe tonight, or tomorrow, or Saturday. Definitely by Saturday. Much to tell. Pictures to post. I miss reading everyone else's blobs.

Besos.

Mr. T-N-A

The Hubs and I are working on some things, personal stuff that revolves around how much your life changes when you have a child. One of the changes I didn’t count on was the fact that words like “libido” and “sex life” would disappear completely from my vocabulary. The only time those words leave my mouth is when the Hubs and I are discussing this sensitive topic. Lately, it’s been a popular one, and Lord knows, the Hubs is deserving of the activity. The other night in bed, instead of making the physical effort to get somewhere intimate, we got into a long, drawn out discussion of the situation. This usually happens and as you can surmise, it’s a total buzz kill. After several minutes of “why nots” and “how comes,” I got fed up and said in my sexiest Mr. T growl, “Enough of this jibber-jabber!” Guess what? It worked.

Why do I tell you this? I’m not sure. Why do you read it? So you can point and laugh when you see me out in public.

Out With Hubs

The Hubs and I had date night last night. The wonderful Miss Jo (www.missjohanna.com) came to keep the little one. W is the president of the Miss Jo Fan Club. It’s very reassuring to know that your child is crazy about his caregiver. We were getting ready to make our departure and I asked W if he wanted to go play with Miss Jo. He leaned out of my arms and dumped himself into hers, a move I didn’t expect from him. Makes it very easy for me to leave the house for the evening when he’s ga-ga like that.

Our first stop was an entertainment community-oriented mixer. We ran into so many people I knew I almost felt like the shindig was for me. See, when you’ve got a baby and a full time job and a life like that, you have a tendency to forget that there is a world out there you were once a part of and there are folks that you miss or have forgotten about or wished you hadn’t run in to at all. I slurped on Cosmos and two bevies later, I needed some serious nosh.

We made our way to Manuel’s for dinner, snuggled into a corner booth and dug in. Our waitress, who was obviously bored, had the hots for the Hubs and, by the end of dinner, was on the verge of giving him a Latin lap dance. I told him that she was SO flirting with him and he said she wasn’t. It was amazingly apparent and I wondered if he even knows it when a girl is making advances. Must be hard to discern when it doesn’t involve complete nudity, a pounding bass line and a pole. Anyway, I guess I could’ve gotten all bowed up about the scene occurring before my eyes but found it to be rather entertaining. Of course, if she had gotten as close to him as his plate was, I would’ve had to body check her like a hockey player.

We scooted out of there and were home by 10. I tried to play it cool (as in “3 adult beverages don’t do nuthin’ to me”) when I saw Miss Jo out the door but my liquored up lingo had Jo looking at me like I was speaking Klingon. Sorry Miss Jo. I bet it happens a lot. I mean, for all parents, you’re a “get out of jail for $10 an hour” card and you must see some really silly stuff at the end of a night. Do tell next date night, okay?

Holiday Fever

W awoke with a subtle fever yesterday morning. He was warm all day but not quite warm enough to be sent home from school. His temp teetered on the edge of what is hot enough to call the ‘rents but never reached phoning status, the tipping point being 100.4 degrees. He didn’t eat any dinner (frown) and was out cold by 7 p.m. It worked out for us as we had my scientist-sis-in-law over for dinner and I got to spend uninterrupted time with her but in the back of my mind, I was fretting about the little one. Thankfully, he awoke this morning totally chill, mood and temperature wise. Unfortunately, since he crashed so early he decided to be up at 4:45 a. freakin’ m. He was bright eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to rock. I felt like I had been pummeled by rocks. Such is the roller coaster ride that is parenting.

We’re heading to a Christmas tree farm on Sunday with friends to choose and murder our own tree. Last year was our first year to go and the Hubs went kicking and screaming. Hopefully this year, since W is a bit older and more fun to do stuff with, Hubs will be eager to play Santa to last year’s Ebenezer. If he doesn’t make nice, Mrs. Claus is changing the locks on the doors and he can go live with the elves out back.