IM A DUMB ASS

Posted a new entry - you will find it a few posts down under March 24, 2008 "SHE IS A TREND SETTER FOLKS". Still cant figure out how to prewrite and save these then get them to post at the date I demand. This is not the first time I have done this so you might want to scroll a bit when popping into the blog to see if there is an update. Maybe we could look at it as a fun surprise - like a toy that is hidden in the bottom of the cereal box. Just keeping things interesting.

FUNNY STUFF

In researching the world wide web on how to make my blog the new cult religion that everyone follows....um...religoulsy (and therefore eventually pays for the mortgage and cute new shoes for mommy) - I came across a fantastic blog called Dadicals. Any post that has the headline "Daddy, kitties don't get cold in the freezer" is worth a read. In a sea of mommy blogs it is refreshing to dive headlong into the witty perspective of this man and his three sons. Well written, check it out at http://dadicals.blogspot.com/ .

TA DAAAAAAA!

Having a bit of a crazy week - we have some teeth coming in and we rolled over for the first time - however, not in the candy land version that one would HOPE as a new mom (there is always a twist at our house, hence the blog).

As for the teeth - we have the standard issue two bottom teeth coming in......and ONE of the pointy ones on the top left - yea that's right my kid is going to have FANGS. Do you think this has anything to do with the fact that I read the entire Twilight series during the last few weeks of my pregnancy?

And the rolling over - nope - no idealistic mom sitting by the sidelines cheering for her little one to reach this big milestone. Left the room with her chilling on her back on the towel on the floor after a bath - came back in 30 seconds later to THIS:

Cute but devious. Could she not have WAITED for me to be in the room at least? I am in shock quite frankly at how quickly she is growing up. I feel like I just spit the kid out yesterday. Teeth?! Are you kidding me? You mean, I'm actually a month or so away from making decisions on what she will be eating beyond ounce allotments? Mike is lucky if he gets a can of SpagettiO's and a manual can opener for dinner. I am going to have to bone up on my food pyramid for sure. Is Carnation Instant Breakfast one of the tiers?

And I'm not going to lie - I was excited when she rolled over sure, but my internal dialog was swimming with thoughts like, "Well, shit - you mean she is going to MOVE now - from where I placed her before? No more quick checks on email while she hangs out on her play mat in the next room." Let the fun - and mess - begin.

SHE IS A TREND SETTER FOLKS

My kid is currently sporting not one but THREE different hairstyles. Are they classic like the 'Audrey Hepburn' pixie, trendy like the 'Jennifer Aniston' layered look or even edgy like the 'Bo Derek' cornrow debacle (yea, I just aged myself...moving on)? Nope. As you will note in the given photo - they are three of the WORST styles one could choose.

Exhibit A, The Toupee: A unnatural and noticeable change from ones original hair offset by that of ones 'new' hair (or in this case NO hair).

Exhibit B, The Bald Look: Hip and in-fashion right now with 30 something gentleman. Done in an effort to hide male pattern baldness. Cool if you go the full monty. Not so cool if you just choose a two inch by four inch patch of hair in the back to eradicate.

Exhibit C, The Mullet Starter Kit: We all know what it is and it is NEVER a good look. On anyone. Ever.

Join me, will you, in wishing for a flowing 'Farrah Fawcett' in her future.

JUST A CASUAL STROLL

Went for our first ever outdoor walk with the little one last week. In my mind I pictured a serene family stroll on one of those pre-spring days that brings forth an energy your lazy winter ass had forgotten. A happy baby on an inaugural exploration of the world. Proud parents 'introducing' her to the neighborhood for the first time. Theme song of The Andy Griffith Show playing in the background (the catchy one, you know, with the whistling).

Yea. Well. Not so much.

Try 15 minutes of crying baby hot potato while each of us tried to figure out the puzzle that was our freshly unfolded stroller, another 5 minutes of crying baby while we try to strap her in for dear life, and 20 minutes of us traveling the shortest possible route of our development at a frantic pace with a screaming child while we take turns blocking every tiny element of nature from gracing her delicate presence (read: sun, wind, animal sounds, smells - pretty much everything one would find OUTDOORS). Eventually Mike had to take her out of the stroller entirely in an effort to soothe and muffle the wailing, and carry her briskly while I pushed the stroller a few paces behind trying to keep up.

When we got inside the house, she stopped instantly. Of course. I would not take this as defeat, oh NO! We were going to have a nice walk in the stroller if it was the last thing I did! So I gave the stroller another once over, moving the seat upright more, adjusting the straps and unlocking the wheels (yea, we walked around the block looking like even BIGGER morons when my husband had to pick up the back wheels and twist the entire stroller in an effort to TURN) - strapped the kid in and strolled her tiny ass around the kitchen, living room and dining room for 15 minutes or so. The little shit - she enjoyed the hell out of it and did not make a peep.

Our stroller, a Mutsy Spider, (aka Chariot of Doom) is actually pretty cool - its a great price, folds up tiny and, as it turns out, has a pretty rocking turn radius .... when you release the brakes.

NAPOLEON DYNAMITE WOULD BE SO JEALOUS!

So, don't send the ASPCA for me after reading this but I must share that I have HORRIBLY neglected our other baby - Ari. If you check out my February 15th post you will note that he is an abnormally furry cat - I'm talking mountains of vacuum bags FULL of fur, furry cat. Before the baby came, I had developed a schedule where I brushed him from head to toe every morning. He would actually roll over from side to side when I asked so I could get every last patch detangled, all the while purring and reveling in my whispered compliments that afterwards HE would be the envy of every cat on the block with his Fabio like tresses.

You can see where this is going I am sure. When Rya came home it was not abnormal of me to declare 4:30 in the afternoon "breakfast time" because that was the first moment I had stopped to take a breath for myself that day. Needless to say, the feline grooming sessions ceased to exist and to a peril that none of us could have foreseen. My cat developed dreadlocks so bad even Bob Marley would have winced in sympathy. We couldn't so much as pet him for fear that it was hurting him by pulling on his clumping and felt-like mats. We felt awful. I tried to take the clippers to him one day in some last ditch effort to make things right but that went over like ..... a cat being held down while his tenders were being mauled by an electronic gadget.

So, we defaulted to the professionals. And this my dear friends is what came back to us. Was he ashamed, humiliated, acting oddly? NOPE - he LOVES it! He sashays around the house like someone is constantly shouting "Work it girl!" to him at every threshold. With his stylish mukluk 'boots', giant fluffy tail, enormous ruff and the uncovering of white tiger stripes on his flanks, I am now convinced that he is NOT an average house cat but a "Liger" (a lion and tiger mixed). Bred for his skills in magic (A-la Napoleon Dynamite). If by magic you mean he shits less in his litter box now that he does not have to 'bathe' all those flowing locks - then move over Chris Angel, there is a new kid in town!

WATCH OUT GISELLE

Recently we went to my in-laws house for a rare visit. My father in law (PaaaaPaaaaw is the handle he has given himself), is an amazing photographer and we set up Rya's first photo shoot. Some of the images that came out of this exorcise were stunning - dream photos that any mother would want to have of their four month old infant (see evidence of this above). But I am here to uncover what we all know is the dirty truth. Mothers only want to showcase the most aesthetically pleasing images of their offspring because it is a reflection of themselves...after all, we did HAND CRAFT these little beings out of our own genetic material right? What we all seem to forget, as we rifle through the albums of our friends or family members, is that there is a box or electronic file somewhere with gnarly reject photos that are choc full of boogers, spit up, crossed eyes, bad angles and wiggly screaming fits that are captured for all eternity on film. So I'm puttin it out there folks - here she is - my kid at her most visually unappealing.

FIRST LOVE

Let us all witness my daughters first true love......(notice the 'romantic' sepia-tone image).

Meet, Eduardo. A handsome Latin-American devil from the small town of 'Babio Einsteino Del Play-matteo'. My daughter has been captivated by his roguish primary-colored visage ever since her eyesight extended out past twelve inches. No matter what other blinking and singing plastic baby-soother was nearby, she would just stare intently and smile charmingly at Eduardo - kicking and drooling like most young girls in do in the first stages of love. He is so beloved that he travels with us now, attached to her car seat as a constant companion. I often look back at her when driving to find her staring at him as if to say, "Eduardo my love, I think mommy has stopped waaaaaay to long at this stoplight - what do you think - should I initiate a cry and let her know to get this thing moving already?" I am looking so forward to telling her prom date all about her very first crush and how proud we were as parents to know that she is diverse and open to all cultures - gotta love a man with an accent - right ladies?!

Eduardo Polkamantoya - Self Portrait 2009

OFF TO PLAY BRIDGE WITH THE LADIES

Oh man, is this picture cute or what? I would have loved it if her delicious double chin and osteoporosis-like slump were not hiding the fantastic little t-shirt design I made her but it was worth the trade-off for that expression. My friend Lauren said it best in an email I sent her where this image was attached, "With her skirt hiked up that high, she does kind of have a 'retired old lady playing shuffleboard in Florida' look about her, but regardless, that smile is so hard to resist." (I've got funny friends too - its like a club.)

THE OTHER BABY IN OUR FAMILY

We have a cat named Ari or, more formally, Ari Flufenstein (he's Jewish....we, however, are not). Before we had Rya, I had been known to pepper my conversations with wild stories about my crazy cat. He has more personality than most dogs I know and definitely most cats I've come across. As evidence of this, we caught him in the action here airing out his private bits on top of the humidifier like Marilyn Monroe on a breezy street grate. Needless to say, its been quite an adjustment for him not being the center of attention with the new 'animal' in the house. I am sure his internal dialogue is filled with such jealousy-laced statements as, "Will this THING ever SHUT UP?" or "Why is the new cat allowed to get on the table and I am not." and "Oh NO YOU DIDN'T just walk past me when I am lying on my back, all cute like with my belly exposed to be petted."

As most astute cats do, he has dedicated the first 3 years of his life to finding out the small things that REALLY piss us off and repeating those activities as some sort of retribution for the unknown wrongdoings that we have subjected him too that day (like running full speed across our heads at 4 in the morning as a nice subtle wake up call to feed him a late night snack). Rya has added a whole new dimension to this past time for him. He has now discovered that when she sleeps we really LOVE it when he gets as close to her as he can and meow/cries at the top of his tiny kitty lungs to get our attention. That might not sound too bad, some would say that it could even be coincidental actually - but I have evidence to the contrary.

The second month into our baby adventure, I had wrangled the beast into submission and placed her in her crib. We were still holding a 24 hour vigil by her bedside at this time (carried over from her breathing issues in the hospital and fueled by the neuroses of new parenthood) and I was laying on the floor of her room. After a fruitless 15 minute tirade of running feverishly through the house meowing and knocking into everything in his path - Ari decided to take a more 'personal' approach to getting my attention. He saunters into Rya's room, swishing his giant fluffy tail in my face to make sure his presence is known, walks directly up to the crib, props his paws up to peer in at her and proceeds to turn and look at me while he reaches his paw in and bats softly at her FACE. Seriously, I am not lying - this is too rich for even ME to make up! All I could do is laugh and dream up ways of sauteing him for dinner or fantasize about trading him in for a non-shedding, relaxed animal like an armadillo.

Little does he know that the days of his 'reign' over her are short and that, in time, she will do something akin to what I did to our cat Miggs when I was young - take him in the closet and proceed to dress him in a full tea party ensemble including a dress, 4 booties and a bonnet. His day will come, oh yes, and I cannot wait.

ATTENTION GEORGE LUCAS

I know it sounds crazy but my kid is a genius!!!! At three months old she is already doing impressions. There are only a few but they are diverse in range. There is the 'seal' (done when crying and sucking on her pasi), the 'construction worker' (a series of non-poop related grunts and harrumphs executed with a furrowed brow and a determined look on her face), the trucker (a string of earth shattering farts and grand burps that would rival that of a grown man) and my favorite - the 'wookie'. Its a Chewbacca like bray that she uses as a greeting to me and, when returned by my butchered attempts at mimicking her, Rya's main form of communication with us. And here my worst fear was that my kid would not be FUNNY (seriously, I laid awake at nights worrying that she would be a dead serious kid and think everything her father and I did was 'stupid'). We caught her in action on this video.

MY KID....THE FLOOZY

So, Rya was accompanying me on the counter in her bouncy seat while I was demonstrating the multi-step process on how to clean/sterilize her bottles (in great hopes that one day soon she would actually DO it for me) when I turn around and see her performing THIS little act (see photo). Cute as a baby - NOT so cute when she is 18 and on spring break in Cancun. God help us.

THE BIG DILEMMA

In each of our daily lives we reach many crossroads where we have to make decisions that will affect us long into the future .... important decisions like; should I buy or lease this car, should I quit my gym membership to save money, should I leave this job for another opportunity or the big one -which blanket (a.k.a. "comfort item") should I strategically and systematically FORCE my child to love forever? Its this last one that has my mind tied up lately.

When I was young I had a 'Blankie'. Ive been told that my great grandmother made it for me. I am sure at one time it was white, had a pretty pattern on the fabric, and a lovely trim on the edges. By the time I was finished with it (forcibly by my mother at some ridiculously old age..thank you mom, I'd probably have that thing to this day if not for your determination and sheer will) it was grey with unraveled trim and frayed edges where the seam came undone. I loved that thing straight into its demise.

I arrived at this dilemma recently when I noticed that Rya had begun to clasp onto any blanket or burp cloth that was placed in her lap and bring it to her face. That sent me into an internal dialog of the pros and cons of all blankets in our current 'stock'. Questions arose like; "Is this replaceable in the event that the most horrid of things happens, we loose or misplace it?" or, "Will this knit unravel one day and I walk into a room with a screaming child and a pile of yarn?" or, "Will it be so long that it will collect filth and dirt when I give-in and let her take it to the grocery with us after an hour long tantrum episode?" or, most importantly, "Will it represent just how cool we really are?" If you can believe it, both my mother and my lovely husband actually entertained a conversation with me on this topic.

After much deliberation, I have chosen a hip little mass-produced 14" square 'Woobie' (a word I have loved for this beloved childhood icon since the stapling scene in the movie Mr. Mom) with a pink satin back and trim surrounding a swatch of that ridiculously fuzzy material that they make everything baby in now. Its from Swaddle Designs (http://www.eswaddle.com/). My plan is to buy several and store them in a safe place in the chance that the inevitable destruction or loss occurs. I have begun the subtle integration of said Woobie by placing it on Rya's lap or around her as much as I can - hoping beyond hope that she will think its as fabulous and practical as I do. Now I do realize, however, that she will probably abandon MY thoughtful choice and gravitate towards some hideous motif like Holly-Hobby meets Barney or something HUGE like the down comforter on our bed or, even worse, something like one of Mike's old lawn mowing shoes. I guess we shall wait and see.

ALL IN A NAME

We have been asked quite often about how we came to our daughters name. Fortunately its usually on the heels of favorable responses to it and not a "what were you thinking" type of leed-in. Honestly - the first name, Rya, was something I had written down eons ago on a tattered piece of paper that I kept in my purse along with other baby name 'options' I favored (its a girl thing, I blame its innate cheesiness on estrogen) and I cannot for the life of me remember where I picked it up from. Mike had heard a woman calling to her daughter, West, in a store and rushed home to tell me he loved the name. I liked it too but we mid-westerners have a way of not properly enunciating and it comes out as 'Wess' when said quickly - and this was NOT a cool girl name. He was sticking to his guns and I to mine...until.

One day we were going to dinner and doing that typical "What do you want to eat hunny?" "I don't know what do YOU want?" exchange (a staple conversation in ANY good marriage). After a bit more of the same type of scintillating conversation he had revealed his craving - Some Guys Italian restaurant. Unfortunately for him, that was most certainly NOT what I wanted so he struck a deal, if I would relent to his choice of food establishment, he would let me choose the first name of our child. Look, I'm no dummy - so I nonchalantly said 'ok' and that's how Rya got her first name. Having a very common first and middle name myself, and in the spirit of compromise, we selected West for the middle name and there you have it! Of course we ran the combination through the "how will this sound when I am really salty at her for coloring on the sofa with a sharpie and I want to grab her attention by saying her full name" test. It works quite nicely actually.

And although my husband will, to this day, deny the fact that he gave up his 'rights' to our child's name selection over FOOD, we both love her moniker and hope it is a precursor for how unique and sassy our little girl will become.

MY NEW FAVORITE HOLIDAY

I had a dream..........of getting some sleep sometime before 2010, and it came true on Martin Luther King day - our kid slept through the night!! I know that it could be a fluke and that she will have many-a-night of scary monsters, glasses of water and just plain orneriness in the future but I am going to relish in this moment while I can. We are both hoping that she gets mom's knack for mulit-hour naps and general all around LOVE of sleep (its actually something I list as one of my hobbies when prompted). Truthfully, I don't know how she does it with all the drama that goes on in her sleep - she flails and squeaks her way through the whole thing but manages to wake up happy and rested most times. Thought I would include a few pics of the girl in action.

SHE SMILES

I would be remiss if I did not discuss the one thing that, in the hardest of times, has kept me from shipping Rya's tiny booty off to be raised by a pack of wild dingo's...... her fantastic smile (well, that and her delicious baby scent). I don't care what the books, doctors or know-it-all's say my kid smiled at me the second week she was home. NO it was NOT gas - I had actually broken from my normal demeanour (read: stressed out maniac) to make funny faces at her and she actually smiled at me. It is amazing what crazy things grown adults will do to make a child smile - that humiliation reaps some amazing rewards. I cannot wait to see what antics we will perform to make her laugh. These are a few pics of some of her best smiles.

MY KID HATES HATS

All self respecting mothers want to dress their baby girls in the sassiest of outfits - its in our DNA. So you will all properly mourn the fact that my child does THIS (see above) whenever I put a hat on or near her head. She even starts to work up a fuss when we put a hooded sweatshirt on her! You can see her little brain working through it, "Waaaait a minute here....hoooold on - is this thing behind me a HAT? I mean this COULD be a HAT right? I .... don't .... think .... so ... lady." Needless to say its a phase I hope she grows out of.

BABY'S FIRST CHRISTMAS

The Holidays were really nice. We were thankful that our families worked to help accommodate us so we could stay close to home and not drag our newborn all over the place. We spent allot of time describing to Rya all the things we were going to do in future snowy holiday vacations....build snowmen, throw snowballs, make snow ice cream, make snow angels and build snow forts (global warming could really throw a wrench in the scheme so lets all vow to be kind to the earth...at least for a few more years until we get to do all these things). Mike and I discovered later that we both had talked to her separately about this but MY snowy adventure included hot coco afterwards so he defaulted his day and promptly told Rya that we would be going with my plans in the future (the man has a thing for coco). She got some great gifts from the grandparent brigade including Santa's future cookie plate and milk glass, her first purse (complete with princess mirror inside), and of course MORE sassy duds and super fluffy stuffed animals (two things I am convinced come in BULK when you have a baby girl). All and all it was pretty fantastic and I cannot wait to have many more with the family.

OUR FIRST BATH

Ok, if this is not the cutest thing you have ever seen then...I don't know what but its darn cute!! Of course she cried like a wild banshee the entire time but instantly stopped when I held her up in what I call the 'sumo' pose (her cheeks look like a sumo wrestler).

THIS BABY THING IS HARD!

Look people, let me tell you something.

All the parents who try and glaze over the first 6 weeks of having a newborn at home with comments like; "Its a challenge but its so much fun" or, "Its just the lack of sleep that's getting to us" or (and this one is my favorite) "He/She was such an angel, sleeping through the night at the first week and hardly ever crying." are either CRAZY or they are LYING to you. Yes it IS a challenge - FUN....um.... not necessarily. Lack of sleep is just the tip of the iceberg, the endless hours of crying, the worry about doing something that would eventually be their demise, the racking your brain for that ONE thing that will soothe this savage beast, the endless hours of crying....you get the picture. And for those who have that 'angel' baby - you will get yours, oh yes, maybe not now but someday your sweet offspring will square off with you and make you wish they were tiny and perfect again. I like to think that Rya will be the most congenial of teenagers to make up for her squirly ways as a baby by always doing her homework without being told, tidying up 'just because', being 5 minutes early for curfew every time, only dating boys when she is 18 and in college, saving herself for marriage....(don't kill the dream people - this fantasy is how I get through my days ok.)

P.S. Notice the bags underneith my eyes and the faux smile that says "It took me 45 minutes to soothe her and if that flash wakes this baby I will kick your ass!"