Tuesday, March 29, 2011

a season...



my little guy turned 3 months old yesterday. i’m not trying to rush him, but that’s a quarter of a year. to me, he still looks like the same little tiny squashpot that they handed me on that december afternoon  in the operating room all wet, wrinkled and pissed off, wrapped in a dinosaur blanket. he’ll probably still look like that same little angel to me on his first day of school, the day he gets his driver’s license, his college graduation, his wedding day…

…….aaaaaaaaaaand i’m crying……..

i promise all of these ‘the monkey is so amazing, he’s the most incredible thing in the world, he’s more perfect than a unicorn dipped in chocolate and covered in glitter, i love him so much i could actually puke!’ posts will taper off eventually, it’s just that being sick, coughing myself into a gagging fit at 3 in the morning and suffering some major, major sleep deprivation really has my emotions on the front lines. combine that with, well, a child more perfect than a chocolate covered unicorn dipped in glitter and it’s a recipe for some pretty dramatic waterworks. sorry.



after we had his 3 month photoshoot yesterday, we had a little talk about how he was ¼ of the way to his first birthday. i told him that, by then, he will probably be walking already, might be trying to say ‘mama’ or ‘dada’, will definitely have a few teeth and might even have some hair…poor little bald monkey. i begged him to stop growing, just for a little while, so that i could just soak it all in. i started to tear up, and he started to laugh at me…i’ve got a feeling that’s the way things are going to go for awhile…



so happy 3 months, little buddy….the most overwhelming, mind boggling, purposeful and love-filled 3 months of my entire life! thank you for being such a happy, mellow, charismatic, smart little baby…thank you for being the consummate love of my life.

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Friday, March 25, 2011

what did we do before etsy?

so back a few months ago when i was all in nursery-crazed mode, daydreaming of my sweet baby boy coming home straight from the hospital and falling right asleep all snugged out in his fuzzy jams, on his back like a good boy, in his crib all night long, i was sure that the Most Important Thing in The World was getting his room all ready, decorated and perfect. forget about reading the parenting books and learning that chances are, my baby wouldn’t be sleeping in his crib (or sleeping at all, really) for many, many weeks or reading the breasfeeding books to learn how to make sure your baby is latching properly and you are doing everything you can to maximize your supply. no way. all of that was way too overwhelming. sometimes i would even come unglued reading Baby Bargains. the ‘reality’ was just too much to face…and anyway, who really cares about all of that ‘reality’ stuff anyway? i knew that the imperative thing…the one thing that would make everything else fall into place seamlessly was making sure that room was perfect, immaculate and totally, totally cute. i had my priorities straight for sure. </sarcasm>

well, like it or not, that old bastard Reality is the boss of us. our first night home from the hospital, New Years Eve, was surprisingly not spent standing in front of the TV at 12:00, watching the ball drop, holding our sweet, brand new little sleeping baby in our arms, kisses all around and toasting a glass of bubbly to a future so amazing and so perfect it would make anybody who was watching us vomit on the spot….no,  we ushered the new year in with the hubs and i frantically dragging Every. Single. Contraption. that we had down from the monkey’s room to the main floor. he tried the swing. he screamed. he tried the bouncy seat. he hated it. we put him in his bassinet. what a joke. with absolutely zero available floor space left in our tiny living room, and teetering on the verge of a full out panic attack, i grabbed him, screaming (both of us.), out of the useless pack n’ play and took him upstairs by myself. i nursed him in that glider i had to have that i researched when i should have been reading the breasfeeding books, covered with the perfectly matching blanket that i bought online when i should have been giving myself pop quizzes on ‘the baby whisperer’ and i sobbed. i heard fireworks going off outside and i cried even harder. i cried so hard in that room that night at midnight with my little boy in my arms, that i thought i would never stop. i loved him so much i was sure my heart was going to burst….he was the most perfect thing i had ever been blessed enough to see with my own eyes, and he was helpless. and i was in charge of protecting him and making the right decisions for him and teaching him and shaping him and meanwhile, i couldn’t even get him to stop crying and go to sleep.  i knew i would never, never be good enough. i have no idea how long i sat there  crying, staring through tear filled eyes at a blurry vision of the most amazing person this world has ever known, overwhelmed with a love that words could never adequately describe and, simultaneously completely consumed and borderline suicidal with grief over MY life that had instantly changed forever and was obviously not going to follow the strict plan and guidelines that 9 months of daydreams had had me believe.

those post partum hormones are no joke, people. make a note of it.

every single day things improved just a tiny bit…sometimes the improvement was barely noticeable, but now, 3 days shy of 3 months old, he is a totally different baby than he was when we rang in 2011 together in the glider, his little head covered in gossamer fuzz and his mommy’s tears….he is laughing at me and smiling all the time, even when he’s got this cold that none of us can seem to shake. he’s mellow and happy, chubby and content. still every bit as perfect if not MORE so if that is even possible….BUT he has never, never slept in his own room…not for a nap and certainly not for a whole night….this nursery that was THE most important thing. Ha.

i will admit that we have had some awesome moments together that we never would have gotten to experience if ben was one of those imaginary textbook babies who went to bed in his crib from day one. i am certain that when we made the transition at 6 weeks from him sleeping every night on my chest to sleeping swaddled in his rock n' play, i was the one who suffered the separation anxiety, not him. and then there is this. it doesn't get any more precious than this.



in the midst of the decorating whirlwind that was my 3rd trimester, i discovered a real gem in Ink Tree Press . i ordered ben the most beautiful ABC print that coordinated perfectly with his bedding (of course. because everybody knows that babies will magically sleep through the night at 2 weeks old as long as their beddingm atches their wall art, right?). i'm pretty obsessed with it and with her whole etsy shop. in fact, the 2nd print i ordered from her just arrived and was actually the inspiration for the title of this blog. she color matched (shutup.) the new print with the ABC print i already had and let me tell you something.....both prints hanging together on his light blue walls make me so happy i could just skip.....although not quite as happy as i would be if my baby would just sleep through the night....but not in his own room. i'm just not ready for that yet.



isn't it gorgeous? go order one for yourself too!!!

i am so thankful it's friday! picking the monkey up from school on fridays is just the best part of my whole week. i always tell him when i'm putting him in the car how excited i am that we get to spend the whole weekend together! not to make you barf again, but i am so lucky....i mean, look at this face that i get to squish for 2 whole days straight!





these little hands i get to hold all night long...



have an awesome weekend, everybody...may we all get some much needed rest!
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Tuesday, March 22, 2011

cell phone pic obsession

i don’t have a fancy iphone. i’m jonesing for one more and more every day, but right now i get along just fine with my trusty little LG flip. i always swore i would NOT be one of “those” mothers constantly with their phones in their baby’s faces, wasting ‘real time’ in lieu of getting the ‘perfect’ shot to text to my entire address book…but i kind of am. the truth is, and it’s been said a million ways and will remain true until the end of time, you just can’t even begin to fathom how much you will love your little person until you are holding them in your arms! i have some manic need to record every moment of his life because he is so precious and perfect and wonderful that no other being will ever come close and dammit! these boogers, this meltdown, this perfect smile must be documented! but i don’t chase him around with my phone(like he’s running laps already or something) just to pic spam all of my friends and family…the truth is, i do it for selfish reasons. i could stare at him 24 hours a day and i need this arsenal of pictures to flip through when he is away from me at daycare...and sometimes there's just no time to grab the canon, adjust the settings, wrestle with the neck strap, focus the lens and hope for the best...i can't chance missing a single thing and moving off the couch isn't an option when you've got this sweet little warm, squishy bundle of love totally snoozed out on your chest.

every single moment in time frozen is a piece of my heart. the most pure and true part of my soul... and looking back through all the moments i have captured with my dumb, cheap phone since the day he was born makes my heart just BURST and never fails to bring tears to my eyes. they aren’t all spiffy and edited, most of them aren’t even in focus, but they are his real life and witnessing his life unfold right in front of my eyes absolutely takes my breath away.

holy crap. i love this little guy so much!

so while i am bitching and moaning and pining for a fancy iphone, i am immeasurably thankful for the shitty LG that i have….because really, just look at this little boy and share a few of the days of his little life so far…have you ever seen such perfection?



it was a rough weekend. ben is going on 2 weeks with his first cold (thanks, daycare. you’re awesome.) which he so generously shared with me. the hubs, having finally shaken his annual sinus infection, came down with a nasty bout of food poisoning friday night and, in between running back and forth to the bathroom (i’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say there was some EXTREME elimination going on), was up shivering under 3 comforters with a temp of 102 till 6am saturday morning. just a tip: it's not advisable to leave your leftover chinese on the floor of your car on the warmest day of the year so far till it's 10:30am and you remember oh yeah, my leftover chinese is on the floor of the car and it's the warmest day of the year so far but i think i'll eat it anyway.

*blink*blink*

obviously the monkey and i made a quick escape to the guest bedroom and i felt horribly guilty for not being able to take care of my husband while he was sicker than i have ever seen him. so basically, it’s like a GD infirmary in our house, all of us with the same cough, carrying on with our phlegm, the smell of cherry halls drops permeating the air. i think we are all over the hump though, so keep on thinkin’ those healthy thoughts!

oh! and happy spring! it’s about freakin’ time! bring on the asparagus and snap peas, bare feet and butterflies!! and my little boy gets to experience it all for the first time! he doesn't know that trees are supposed to have leaves on them, that grass is actually green and not brown or what the sun feels like on your face when you fall asleep on an adirondack chair on a saturday afternoon....he is in for such a treat! the days are about to get a whole lot sweeter!

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Friday, March 18, 2011

i am neurotic.

whatever i’m making, i will always find the smallest bowl that will possibly fit whatever needs to go in it. clearly, this is some kind of neurosis. i don’t know why i do it. it’s really annoying. whenever i’m watching food network, which, let’s face it, is pretty much 24 hours a day, i see them all using these huge, glamorous bowls to stir up sauces and emulsify dressings and whip heavy cream and i am so jealous that they don’t have the same mania as i do. i even bought that glamorous bowl set that they use from kohl’s. i immediately put it all the way in the back of my cabinet, behind the panini maker. now you KNOW if there’s a panini maker in front of a stack of heavy, glass bowls, i’m definitely too lazy to do the acrobatics required to drag them out….of course, it wouldn’t be very enjoyable to watch paula deen try to melt 3 sticks of butter in a ramekin….but that’s exactly what i would do. and the butter would drip over the side when i was trying to stir it and get all over my counter and piss me off and then, since i also have a total paranoia about salmonella and diphtheria,  i would have to drag out the Clorox wipes and move over the stupid bottle drying rack that is taking up pretty much ALL of my available counter space these days (a rant for another day) and the whole time i would just be getting more and more pissed off thinking WHY did i not just use a BIGGER BOWL?? And i do this all the time. all the time. and even at the moment i am choosing the thimble to mix my pancake batter, i am saying to myself “just use the big, red, melamine mixing bowl right there. it’s right there. just use it!” but i can’t make myself do it. what the hell?



this morning, i sat down at my desk to enjoy my seriously delicious packet of instant oatmeal (right) and instead of just using the tupperware bowl i leave here for exactly this type of thing, i rooted around the cupboard until i found, in the very back, this itty bitty porcelain tea cup. when i put the oatmeal in there and added the water, the whole mess came right up to the rim of the cup, so i could hardly even stir it and then, halfway through, i realized that since there wasn’t even enough room in the damned cup for me to stick my spoon in and mix it without splurping thick, sticky oatmeal juice all over my desk, the oats at the bottom of the cup were still dry, making my breakfast an even less enjoyable experience. really. mornings are difficult enough. why do i do this to myself? does this condition have a name? bigbowlophobia? where can i get treatment?

TGIF, yo.


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Thursday, March 17, 2011

a 15 pound leprachaun...

happy st. pat's, people!
the monkey looked more handsome than ever this morning, heading out to school all spiffed up in his green! it was all i could do not to just gobble him whole! how i stand the cuteness on a daily basis is beyond me.


i mean seriously. have you ever?

i'm working on my photography....clearly, this shot does not showcase my efforts. i splurged on a DSLR for christmas and even got a fancy lens (50mm f/1.8) to use since i think i am too good for a kit lens (i'm not. obviously.) and instead of instantly turning into some annie-lebowitz-ish prodigy the second i took off the lens cap  like i expected, i am still taking the same shitty quality of pictures that i was with my old camera....imagine that? i even got a fancy camera strap cover from  shey b ....obviously the cuter you look while shooting, the better your pictures will come out. i mean, duh.

i get so discouraged. my main problem is lighting. lighting and my lack of a fancy editing program...see how i did that? i blamed it on the lighting. sweet.

anyway, spring is almost here. the bitter, unrelenting fridgid bitch that was winter '10-'11 is 3 days away from being nothing but a painful memory and i am feeling inspired to dust off my two peas lessons and give this thing the old college try...there are so many gorgeous blogs out there full of amazing photography and it really lights a fire under me (and makes me want to punch something out of jealousy)....i have a decent camera, a fun lens and the most beautiful subject in my little monkey.....

if anybody has any tips on how the hell to shoot indoors (so we don't freeze to death) without using that horrible flash while working with a  pitiful amount of natural light and not winding up with a dark, grainy mess, please feel free to share....

in the meantime, bottoms up with your green beer there and have a safe and happy st. pat's!

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

mission statement

there's a lot of pressure writing your first blog post. who am i to think that anybody cares what i have to say anyway? but lets just get it over with....rip the band-aid right off....quick and painless, so we can move on...

this blog is about to begin....post numero uno. this is my life. i am a wife. i am a daughter. i am a friend. i am a mother. that's the first time i have ever typed that and i'm not gonna lie, it's really weird. grown ups are mothers. i am not a grown up. i'm still a little girl who doesn't dig all of this 'responsibility' crap and pretty much bursts into tears on a daily basis wondering how on earth i got so far in over my head. this blog might be funny. it will occasionally be pretty sad. when i am feeling particularly dramatic, it will probably be depressingly pessimistic. i hope it will frequently be sprinkled with joy rooted both in thankfullness for this moment and the limitless potential in my son's beautiful blue eyes.



there's lots to talk about. let's see how it goes...