Some Of My Favorite Things Right Now...

*Quick side note: As I'm preparing to type this I hear the incessant squawks of a male grackle outside the window obviously trying his best to whoo a mate. I bend back the blinds to see him dancing about with his wings draped like Count Dracula's cape as he races around a perturbed female who is gathering the pieces of dried feather grass I weeded earlier. He's either so stoked to be shacking up with this busy little lady he can't contain himself as she collects debris for their love nest or he is totally pissed that she's not making a bed for him and is trying his best to get her to change her mind about the other bird. Ahh...the mysteries of Mother Nature.

This is my latest list of my current favorite things. This list doesn’t include the sentimental stuff like going for morning walks with the kiddo and the dog in this glorious weather, baking sweets with W, the satisfaction of yard work well done or dining on some grilled goodies al fresco every evening. Those are the other favorite things.

Dagoba Beaucoup Berries


Some of the all time best (and affordable) chocolate in stores. This flavor, however, sends me to the moon. Delicious.


Skinceuticals C and E


This one makes the list again. With turning 40 a mere weeks away, the war on staving off the wrinkles is officially ON.


Clarisonic


The Hubs actually owns this (in PINK!) but I use it as well. Seriously is the best face scrubber out there. Makes a huge difference in the “thorough cleansing” department. Over time I’m sure the results will be visible although right now I’m poking at a zit that is below my lip.


Emmi Lattes


Like to have these in the fridge for a quick boost without the extra cost, time or fuss. W likes to reuse the containers for other beverages.

iPhone iPod Shuffle Feature








Best when on walks and when the most appropriate tunes roll out organically. Then it becomes the “ipod del fuego”! Helps me hit my stride.

Surprise Roses


Came home from an Easter family reunion Saturday to find a box of roses from my dad with a card that said, “To my sweet daughter: a dedicated momma, and a loving wife. Love - Dad (Pop Pop)." How freakin' thoughtful it that?

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.

La Vie en Chaos

Why did I ever stop blogging? How am I going to remember all of the details of W's last three months? Remember all of the ugly and beautiful minutiae of life leading up to now? I felt uninspired after Christmas, overwhelmed by my job, bored by the monotony of the week’s routine. But wonderful things happened and sad things happened and the hardest part of my job happened and here we are now.

The holidays. I have to look at my calendar to remember. Family came together for the celebration in my hometown. My granny surprised me with a visit from West Virginia, my father surprised me as well and I got to spend some time with my grandmother in her majestic home not knowing it would be the last time I’d see her.

New Years. The Hubs played a gig in Arkansas, outside, in 20-degree weather. I, very smartly, chose to stay home and watched the fireworks at midnight from my bedroom window.

January. Worked hard and prepared for the events that happened in March.

February. New York for Fashion Week with my sister-in-law. Backstage at the Diane Von Furstenberg show, front row for the Angel Sanchez show, gazed dreamily at the jaw-dropping collection designed by, crap, I can’t remember his name, and stood across from Tyra Banks and Nigel Barker (who is stunning in person, ladies, edible) at the Jill Stuart show. The month ended with hour-long conference calls and a workload from hell. And there was also a totally fun Oscar party, a Pillow Fight Club match at the Beauty Bar and Friday evenings at Salvation Pizza with the foxy collective of parents and tots from W’s school.

March. 98 parties in 9 days, high profile clients, low profile me, keeping my nose to the grindstone and my poor crippled feet under the faucet in the tub. Hotel living is for the birds, especially when you have to do it in the city you live in but it’s a necessary evil. Life gets in the way of work during this time. My deepest regards to all the family and friends that helped me, the Hubs, and W get through it all.

My dear grandmother passed away last Thursday morning. It was good I was the first warm body to the convention center office so I could grieve alone. She was an amazing, caring woman with a heart of gold. My fondest childhood memories are of her and the home she opened up to us and the neighborhood rugrats we brought to her door. Her last words were, “Where in the hell’s that orange juice?” Grandmother, you are truly missed.

So this weekend I am off with the fam to the beach. I need some serious RnR but I promise to keep blogging, to keep up with the details of W’s milestones and happenings in our little world because lord knows I can’t remember it all. Afterall, this is for him.

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…

Chhhhh-Changes

I was completely dreading the time change but that was until I realized which direction we were changing. I had it all reversed. “Hello, blondie?” And as much as I really don’t enjoy waking up with the ass crack of dawn, this little arrangement is working quite nicely. I actually have time to move at a much needed slower pace and even get a few extra things done like put away the clothes I decide not to wear to work instead of leaving the bedroom looking like a spastic stripper blew through. I get to drink an entire cup of coffee instead of gulping the scalding caffeine I so desperately need to get me out the door. I also get to serve W breakfast twice. He’s either a growing boy or got a tapeworm at the beach.

While at the beach over the weekend with a couple of the Hubs’ family (which was a glorious break from everything I do on a daily basis…oh, how the routine punishes the spirit), it was brought to my attention that W sticks out his tongue…a lot. In fact, it was mentioned that he uses it like a tail and I have to agree. See…





























"Please bring me mah snacks on the veranda, dahling."

I Heart 3 Day Weekends

Labor day weekend is going to rule, y’all.

Why, you ask?

Well, let me list the reasons why…

1) W and I will finally get to spend some time with the Hubs who we have only seen for a few moments in the morning all this week.
2) We’re going to buy a real grill, one of those multi burner monsters with several racks and enough surface area to hold a marinated moose. I’m going to let W beat our old charcoal one like it’s a bloated piñata. I loathe that damn thing.
3) Monday morning we’re all going over to a neighbor’s house for brunch. Most of the guests are folks I’ve never met that live in my ‘hood and have children. I heard there’s going to be mimosas. I love the idea of champagne in the morning and a big family nap afterwards. Oh yeah.
4) Big sale at Last Call. ‘Nuff said.
5) I’m going to finally buy some cowboy boots. I don’t have any and that’s a crime.
6) Several playdates and hen sessions.
7) And lastly, it’s a 3-day weekend which means no work in Monday. NO...WORK...ON...MONDAY. Sweet.

In an effort to keep the grandparents sated, here are more pics for their viewing pleasure. These were taken in Kentucky, the first leg of our summer on the road. W and I traveled sans the Hubs. Fun was had by all.

Wunnerful Weekend

Me and W, our weekend was stuffed like a Chicago style pizza. Right after school on Friday we headed to our neighborhood cement pond for our first dip of the summer-to-be. Freakin’ cold, as to be expected, and W cried the whole time except when I pointed at imaginary fish in the water. A little girl was making a game of getting out of the pool and jumping back into the water. Every time she did and the droplets landed on W’s skin, he’d shriek like acid was being throw on him. We lasted about 10 whole minutes. We ended the evening at Central Market to watch a friend’s husband bang on the drums. I eagerly purchased a refreshing glass of white wine, a well deserved beverage after a hard week of solo parenting and work at the orifice, and planted myself, ready to take in the surroundings. I then proceeded to dump the whole glass of nectar into my friend’s purse, just bumped it into the crevasses of the table. She said she’d drink it later. I was too ticked to brave the line and get another.

Saturday we joined the motorcycling masses and headed to the hill country for an overnighter with Pop Pop and family. My wonderful Aunt Ginna from Oatmeal (yes, there is such a place and it’s lovely) came down for the fun, too. The wildflowers along the way were in Technicolor! We had a grand time grilling out (be sure and mix some parmesan cheese, fresh lime juice, S & P with butter, rechill and then slather it on grilled corn on the cob…hell yeah!), swilling vino and getting caught up. Wella gave W a battery operated, hand held bubble blower so we spent hours on the back patio framed in scenes from the Lawerence Welk show. On Sunday morning, a few of us went here. I could drop some serious cash in that place but made it out relatively unscathed.

We ended the long, wonderful weekend by sitting on the front porch and watching it rain droplets the size of silver dollars. They smacked the pavement like wads of wet toilet paper. Lightning lit up the sky followed by the thunder and W and I enjoyed every minute of it. If the Hubs had been home, he would’ve been hidden safely inside the house but I want to make sure that W isn’t afraid of the storms and marvels at their beauty the way I do.

I promise to post some pics soon. We got a new camera but the Hubs keeps running off with it every time he leaves town.

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.

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.

Spring Flinger

I’ve had to take a couple of days to get my blogging brain back on course. It had been brought to my attention that I had offended a few family members with something I had written a while back and for that, I am regretful. Since I write for my own self-absorbed pleasure, I have a tendency to forget there is an audience out there and that this blog serves as a channel of familial info for some of its readers. And speaking of readers, did you know I know who you are? Thanks to certain Big Brother aspects of blogging, I am able to see where you live. What’s so amazing about this is I’m able to note that some readers are from across the pond, in Canada, and several in California, among other places. Truly awesome.

Life has been going at a clip and spring is spreading out before us like a huge welcome mat. I anxiously await the warmer days to swim in icy cold pools with W, slurp juicy raspas in the park and visit with friends over tangy, homemade margaritas. The trees have suddenly burst with brand new bright green leaves and the length of the grass in our yard has doubled in length after being dormant over the winter. Last night, we grilled salmon and asparagus on the patio (well, not literally ON the patio). W and the Hubs played ball or what really translates to W running willy-nilly, laughing wildly, and throwing the ball directly behind his petite frame. We sipped white wine, smooched and gave thanks for all that we have. And we meant it.

I received news last night that my boss has graciously given me two months off this summer, totally unpaid, but off nonetheless. I did six backhand springs and two toe touches in slow motion when I got the email. What does this mean? Ohhhhh, so many things! It means W and I can go see family and really start building a foundation for his roots to take hold, to know where he comes from. First order of business is to get to Kentucky to see my brother and his family (this means a night or two in Nashville, Wendielu!). They live on the edge of a beautiful pond perfect for fishing and swimming. There are horses to ride just down the road. His two toe headed daughters flank W in age, one is a tad older and one is a bit younger. Perfect ages to torment him as little girls can. Here they are…














The Hubs is off this evening and tomorrow night opening for the Old 97’s. If you’re in Houston tonight, go see ‘em. If you’re in Austin tomorrow night go see ‘em at Stubb’s. Buy some merch, drink a few and enjoy yourself.

Dramatic W

Can You See The Real Me?

We had a wildly successful wine-O event but W and I didn’t make it to the family reunion. It had nothing to do with the hangover that flirted with the edges of my brain and stomach lining and never really took hold but had everything to do with the fact that it was 37 degrees and raining out. Oh, and W took a glorious 4 hour nap. The Hubs made it out to see the kin but texted me to say “Dont come out.” Thankfully, due to one unexpected drop-in and one planned dinner, I got to see a couple of the family members in the flesh.

Yesterday was pure bliss. Sorta seemed like someone had added a couple of extra bonus hours to the day. We ventured out to Central Market for some vittles but found it closed. We headed, instead, to Whole Foods, a place I was putting off visiting for as long as possible because I knew I would walk in the door and pass out from the wonderfulness of it in front of everyone. I wasn’t so sure the place would be open but the Hubs reminded me that they are a publicly traded company and they’ve got a bottom line to eyeball. It was buzzing with people and when I say “buzzing” I mean like a pissed off hive of them. W and I were overwhelmed and over stimulated. I felt like I was at a gourmet food convention and there was no way I was gonna see all the sights in one visit. I suggested to the Hubs that we come back on date night sometime to graze at all of the feeding troughs and drink some major vino.

Does anyone really know how to do those damned Sudoku puzzles? I have tried and had to look in the back of the book for the stupid solutions every time. Most frustrating part is that the ones I’ve been attempting to do are the easy ones. I’m totally screwed.

So I did something this morning I have never done in my life…showered at the gym. I tripled the normal amount of gear I schlepped to the car (work clothes, personal items, towels, hairdryer, lotion, so on and so on), took W to school, and got my tail in there for some cardio and ab work. After the workout, I begrudgingly went through a modified version of my at-home morning routine but quickly began to realize how much I was enjoying the moment. Why? Why was I okay with strange women coming in and seeing my blinding white arse? Because no one talked to me, no one needed anything from me, no one was calling me Mama, or asking for a “Waffu, pwease” or fake crying or hanging on my leg. I rediscovered what time to myself felt like and it effin’ ROCKED! I’m so there on Wednesday.

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.

Holiday Week In Review

I’m going to write this one in reverse. It’s easier to pry out the historical content in the crevasses of my holiday soaked brain that way.

Today, I went to the gym. Day one. The beginning of the reversal of all that is baby fat. I slogged through a 30-minute cardio workout of make believe snowshoeing in Snoqualmie Pass on the elliptical machine. I barely made it and was disappointed that I couldn’t do the intended 40 minutes but at least I was there getting the heart rate above 20 BPM. I had an hour to myself at home to shower, dress and eat breakfast before work and, folks, it was TOTAL BLISS. Earlier, the Hubs had left the house to take W to school so I was completely alone. Alone, as in my hot tea stayed hot ‘til the bottom of the cup, I was able to put on all pieces of clothing at once without staggering around the house in single items during infantile interruptions, and I even had time to make the bed so tonight, I get to turn down the covers like a lady instead of burrowing my way in like a badger. This will be a four times a week event and I feel like I have won the lottery…sorta.

Yesterday, I went to the outlet mall in San Marcos. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. The last time I was there, you could experience the whole retail raping in just a matter of hours. Then it was just a handful of shops but now it’s larger than several football fields and the loot is crap. And wasn’t I supposed to save some major dough on said crap? I also found that designers like Giorgio Armani would probably change their name if they saw the condition of their stores and the crap on the shelves. Surely this stuff was never on his drawing board or even part of a frustrated doodle he penned. Ugh. I had a list of shops to visit but after having to walk what seemed like miles and periodically move my car so it didn’t feel like I was hiking to Japan, I decided I’d had enough. Nobody should put themselves through that much retail H-E-double L. Never again.

New Years Eve. I stayed home while the Hubs played a gig. I tried to live vicariously through the gay duo that live in the townhouse behind us. They were throwing a little shindig. Every so often I’d peek out the window in hopes of spying some wild chandelier swinging in the buff but the whole thing was as boring as a Catholic mass. Buzz killers.

The always fun and painfully talented Small Stars opened for the legendary Joe Ely at Gruene Hall last Saturday. I enlisted Miss Jo to take care of W so I could partner up with my old college roomie and her fab husband for a night out of town for a few hours. Jen, the roomie, has kept her wonderfully sassy spirit despite being married for 10 years and raising a 4 and 5-year-old. She cusses like a sailor and drinks like a fish while maintaining a certain girlish poise and femininity. Oh, and she’s quite the Martha Stewart in the crafts department. Martha with a piping bag in one hand and a bottle of vino in the other.

We spent some of the holidays in Laredo with the mom-in-law. Thankfully she lives nowhere near El Chapo and his drug cartel. We stayed close to home and soaked up the extended fam. The Hubs and I ventured out briefly one day to get a coffee and go to the bookstore but when you ask someone where the bookstore is, they look at you suspiciously and tell you there is no bookstore. No, wait…there’s one at the mall. Evidently there’s not much reading going on in that border town and in her all knowing, blunt way, the mom-in-law confirmed it to be true.

Santa left some gifts for W under the tree and we got the whole scene of confusion and surprise on video. Santa knew the little sprout was wild about cars, trucks, and construction vehicles so now our house looks like a miniature impounding lot and it’s only a matter of time before one of us breaks our necks.

Speaking of W, he’s still growing too fast. He’s talking up a storm, understanding all we say and amazing us with his problem solving skills and when those fail, replacing them with some mad tantrums skilz. Thankfully, they usually only erupt when he’s trying to do something with a car or train or truck and we don’t have anything to do with it. Occasionally, a vehicle goes soaring through the air and we just juke and jive to avoid injury. On the super duper plus side, he’s totally in to giving major hugs and open-mouthed kisses all the time lately. He grips you like a sumo wrestler on the face or head and comes at you like a hungry animal, mouth agape. It’s the best milestone yet.

Well, that’s all I can remember for now. Seemed difficult trying to blog with so much family stuff going on but now that the routine is back, so am I.

Happy New Year all!

Gobbler Wobbler

We returned yesterday from visiting my side of the family for Thanksgiving/early Christmas which, due to divorce, marriages, and relocations, has been whittled down to only my mom, her sister and one brother. There’s enough energy in that household though to keep a city block lit with holiday lights. It was W’s first visit and it won’t be the last. He ran amok with a perpetual smile on his happy face as he played with the dog, rode in the wagon and pushed a basket full of toys cars around the house. I feel good knowing that come next June/July when the Hubs and I leave the little one for two weeks to vaca, he’ll be in the best of hands (this was a babysitter offer dream come true and it was all I could do to keep the Hubs from grabbing the phone and buying the plane tickets right then). Since I’m still playing catch up and my “To Do” list is as long as Santa’s naughty list, I’m going to make this short and instead post some pics of the growing sprout. It’s been a while.

Happy Holidays!


A few weeks back, W and I got to see this...
















This past weekend at a birthday party, he got to do this...

















W is ALWAYS on the phone.

































Getting his 2 servings of fruit...and 15 servings of sugar.

















People, I forgot to mention that IKEA opened this month. It's a big deal! See that little table and 2 chairs? $19.99. No joke.

















Baby Einstein poster child.

















That's his "I plead the Fifth" face.
















Here we are visiting W's uncle about to venture out to terrorize the neighborhood.
















Here we are with my brother/W's uncle/the youngest fire chief in the state of Texas. Yes'em. We are proud.
















And lastly, what I love about the composition of this pic is the fact that you can see the photographer/my mom/W's GoGo.

Chianti

Hello interneters! Can I just tell you how much the Marfa trip for Chinati Weekend was so much like riding a rollercoaster without a seat belt? Well, it was and here’s how it went…

Thursday awoke with an interesting sensation in/on my right eye. Fast forward to Friday and I’m sporting the gnarliest case of eye sty ever. My ball was like a giant red hot encased in a pudgy hot dog bun. Daycare strikes again! Yeay for me and I had a lot of networking to do. Thank God I packed my giant Mia-Farrowesque sunglasses.

Drive to Marfa one way, seven hours. "Hello, flat ass."

Passengers included hubby, baby, my sis-in-law and her fiancé.

How did baby do in the car? Basically he did everything he normally does but did it all in the car seat. He was a good sport. It probably helped that I had put whiskey in his sippy cup.

Friday via the Marfa Chamber of Commerce I secured a sitter who was a housekeeper at the Paisano Hotel. Score! I hook up with Holly, the decorator of my mansion, who has shown up to sell t-shirts that say “Chianti” on them. Again, this is Chinati weekend, a huge art event and soon her t-shirts are all over town.

Dandy Warhols are in from Portland. We drink adult bevies at the Thunderbird Hotel bar and the DJ spins us all into the night. Good times.

Return to the casita. Hubby says he’s always wondered what it would be like to live in an apartment in NYC with eldest sister. Lodging is very small but comfortable. Baby has a fever that is rocking his world. The deep chest coughs only make it worse. Long night.

Saturday Papa prepares for his gig in Alpine only to find that 3 of the five members of his band are ill. One of them makes the trip anyway. Papa scouts for a drummer and lands a local alternate and Fran Christine of the Fab Thunderbirds. Gig is great, so I hear. There is a street dance and dinner in Marfa. Food is retched, mariachis are great, baby is feeling fine. I hit the town with friends and leave baby with the sitter. Home at one and baby is in bad shape. We roll through another long night.

Sunday is a day of decompression. We drive, we eat, we stroller, we nap. It rains a trace and it’s beautiful. In the evening, we nosh as a little fam outside the casita and cobble together a nice meal with odds and ends we’ve all brought. Later I hang with friends for a while and return to an upset baby and a concerned daddy. We curl up together and sleep.

Drive back to Austin, another seven hours.

Monday is the long drive home. It all goes fairly well except for the last hour when baby had reached his limit. We finally make it home and W just about jumps out of my arms and races around the house to all of his toys like it’s Christmas morning. He’s a new kid and so happy to be back. So are we.

Baby All Weekend...And It's Wednesday Already?

On behalf of my husband's busy schedule, we attended an all day baby labor and delivery class this past Saturday. I couldn't imagine subjecting him to a collection of Thursday night sessions like some of my friends have to endure (Hello, Brent!). It was held in the waiting room of my OB's office from 9-4, a bataan death march of sorts. It was your typical Readers Digest version of a moment that will change your life forever distilled down to an abbreviated series of leg crossing, vagina clenching topics. You wonder if a) the instructor (a great nurse, by the way!) covered everything you need to know and b) if you'll remember anything she has said. We watched a video circa 1984 that highlighted 3 different deliveries by 3 different couples. In one, the woman barely made a whimper as her baby burst on the scene. Who delivers like that? You could barely hear her breath much less give birth. Her husband was saying all of the right things and they lived happily ever after. The second delivery was hilarious. Young couple, woman in what seemed to be a normal, painful labor and her youngish husband doing the best he could to console her. He stroked her hair (which she angrily made him stop doing), he blamed the labor on a philly cheesesteak sandwich she had eaten earlier, and held up a photograph of their calico cat for her to focus on. THAT provoked giant laughter from the group. It is suggested that we bring with us something visual to focus on when we are in labor but the random kitty head shot was just too funny! At the end of the all day course (filled with many potty breaks and rummaging through the basket of free cookies, candy, gum and breakfast bars), we toured the Seton Hospital delivery rooms. It's your standard intimidating collection of Frankenstein-esque beds with wires and gadets attached, hidden emergency medical gear, monitors and the uncomfortable reclining chair for dad to nap in and man the TV remote from. The tour ended with a peek into the delivery room where a newborn was getting it's first bath. A shiny new daddy was standing over the tiny bright pink person with a shellshocked, befuddled look on his face. It didn't help that 20 pregnant women and their spouses had just crowded the window to share his overwhelming moment. Poor fella.

Sunday was Junebug's karaoke baby shower and it went off without a hitch! Great fun was had by all! It didn't take as much effort as I thought it would to turn the Elk's Lodge banquet room (est. and still looks like 1953) into a cozy partying retreat. With the mammoth swimming pool, stuffed elk head and Austin skyline in the background, how could you go wrong? Many in utero thanks go to Sharon, Bonnie and Christi for their tireless help. I couldn't have done it without them. The "make a clay figurine for Junebug's room" table was a hit! I couldn't believe the creativity that resulted in tiny reditions of a fireman, rubber ducks, a rainbow, a cabaret performer, a rockin' skunk, a sword fighting mouse, and many, many others. Lest not forget the vagina and penis expertly crafted with a plastic baby sitting at the base of the member. I love my naughty girlfriends! Mommy will have place that one at the back of the display shelf. Sorry, girls.

My husband comandeered the karaoke machine switching back and forth between Guy Fantasy, David Bowie, Elvis, Mick Jagger, and himself. He was completely in his element heckling our friends and striking Ziggy Stardust poses. Junebug got some great gifts and mommy had fun opening them the next day as she recuperated from the lengthy event. The long day and late evening of loading out (daddy got to go play a show at the Hole In The Wall and missed the post-party clean-up, of course) kept me in bed most of the next day as I was swollen, sore and a bit disoriented. Whew!

Oh, about mom's date. Let's just say I put the kibosh on men who are almost 50 and live in duplexes, don't own their own business but make it sound like they do, and talk about their mother A LOT. Oh, and don't interrupt my little brother...ever! I'm not making a judgement call on all personalities or lifestyles of this nature, just when they have the potential to be with my fabulous mom.

It's All About Me

I must say that I'm doing a terrible job of keeping up with this blogging thing which makes me feel like I don't deserve to have my own blog. It would be easier to maintain if we were actually living in the home where we are paying a giant mortgage and where our wireless internet access is housed but instead we are pretending that the duplex we are living in now is home, sweet home and has everything we need.

I'm hosting my own baby shower this Sunday. I'm too much of a control freak to let someone else do it and besides, I don't have anything else to do (still need to pick out floors for the house under construction, design the kitchen cabinet layout, decide on exterior paint colors, plan the nursery, go to my day job, be a wife, grow a healthy child...). I'm calling the soiree "Junebug's Karaoke Baby Shower" and it's turning out to be quite the bash. Hopefully, I'll get everything done before it actually starts. My to do lists are ridiculously lenghty.

My mother and youngest brother (20-year-old fine hunk of paramedic/fireman) are making the four hour drive to the shower day of. She called night before last to tell me she's bringing a date to the shower (mother is somewhat recently divorced). She could barely contain her excitement. This is her first date post years of painful dishonesty with a man who really let her down. The "date" has no idea what he's in for. Being the eldest, I feel it is my duty to screen all prospective suitors interested in my wonderful and deserving mother and put them through a battery of tests, quizzes, physical agility feats, and personality screens. I also require a complete financial statement before date number two. We'll see how it goes.

I went to see my massuse last night and I got buffed to a blissful shine. She is truly remarkable in her technique and I can barely drive myself home after the treatment. Unfortunately, Junebug felt it necessary to train for some in utero marathon the whole hour so just as I'm channeling a nice warm spot on the beach in Kauaii, the baby's breaking pole vaulting records. At least I know the kiddo's active and alive.

Today is my glucose screening at the doctor's office. I get to drink a very unnaturally orange beverage and then have blood drawn. My friend, Wendy, claims the drink is REALLY good. In fact, she's mentioned it a couple of times. I'm waiting for her to offer me money for it any minute.