Stay Classy

Friday Fluff

I have a new obsession. Last weekend, I stumbled across a marathon of "The Next Food Network Star", and I am totally hooked (I'm not all the way caught up, by the way-- so if you're a fan, don't spoil the ending for me!). I have 3 or 4 more episodes waiting for me in my DVR, and I'm anxious to get to them.

I think I like this show for the same reason that I read the circular ads in the paper for supermarkets where I don't even shop: food porn. There are no calories in just looking, right?_________________________________________________________________________________________

Spending every morning this week at the YMCA pool for Brady's swim lessons is bringing back all kinds of memories of the time I spent as a swim teacher at a YMCA in my hometown. For example-- did I ever tell you about the time I hit my boss in the head with a racket?

The pool supervisor when I worked at the Y in high school was a real piece of work. We'll call him Ed (not his real name). You know the type-- an overgrown frat boy who was always thisclose to getting sued for sexual harassment and wanted so badly to be best friends with everyone, which of course didn't make him anyone's favorite person.

Anyway, one night I was on the closing shift at the pool along with Ed and one of the other lifeguards who I was dating at the time. He and Ed were friends (probably should have been my first clue, right?), and they decided that we should wait until the building was all locked up and sneak onto the racquetball courts to play. I decided to go along with it, and even gave them fair warning that I am horrible at racquetball.

We had been playing for all of about 5 minutes when Ed decided to dive after a ball that I was swinging at. My racket caught him across the forehead, and I literally flattened him. As he lay there flat on his back, the purple bump above his eye had already started to grow.

For about a week, whenever anyone asked him what happened to his head, he said "Lauren attacked me with a racket". I was totally a local hero.

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Here's your daily dose of adorableness:

When Paul pulled into the garage after meeting me for dinner last night, the 3-year-old who lives next door was standing behind the car before Paul could even get out.

"What is Brady doing? Can he please play?" (It's our first official, "Can Brady come out and play?"!!)

Paul told him he was sorry, but that Brady had to take a bath and get to bed.

He says little Eli went running back across the lawn to his house, screaming "MOM! BRADY HAS TO TAKE A BATH!!"

Couldn't you just puke from cuteness?_______________________________________________________________________________________

There is a giant bag of fresh caramel popcorn about 3 feet from my desk right now. I have already had several handfulls. This is bad news.

As far as I'm concerned, caramel popcorn (it has to be really, really fresh) is one of the world's great inventions.

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Alright... I'm off to have another handful of popcorn. Sigh.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Lest I ever whine again...

This morning at the Y while we were waiting for Brady's swim lesson to start, I started chatting with a cute lady with a tiny baby. Teeeny tiny. She told me he was two weeks old, and I marveled at how good she looked and the fact that she was dressed in matching clothes and sitting on a pool deck at 9:30am two weeks after giving birth.

I was already impressed... and then one of the swim teachers brought over her 15 month old daughter. Holy cow. A 15 month old and a 2 week old? This lady was good, and I told her so.

She told me that she also has a 3 year old and a 4 year old.

I bow to a mommy prowess far greater than my own.

We know what NOT to get him when he gets married

We seem to have found the second thing that Brady is afraid of.

I was feeding him spaghetti tonight when Paul decided that he would make himself a smoothie for dinner.

Then all hell broke loose.

The second Paul turned on the blender, Brady lost his mind. Screaming. Crying. Tears rolling down his cheeks nearly instantly. Big, open-mouthed sobs exposing half-chewed noodles. I think the last time I saw him cry that hard was when he got his latest round of immunizations. It's almost like he thought the blender was hurting his Dada.

Paul stopped the offending appliance, and the wailing died down a little. I wiped his tears and told him everything was ok, Paul came over to show Brady that he was fine... and then went back over and started the blender again.

Cue heart-breaking wailing.

I ended up having to take Brady outside while Paul finished making the smoothie (he couldn't just abandon it mid-smoothed!). I brought him back inside to finish his dinner once the blender was turned off... but Brady still just wasn't quite sure. He kept pointing at the spot on the counter where the blender had been and grunting accusationally. Eventually he did finish his dinner, though, and then he dragged me to his room to read.

20 minutes later as I was leaving to go back to work, Paul and Brady walked me to the back door (which is in the kitchen) to say goodbye... and again, Brady started pointing at the counter and yelling.

I'm thinking we can cross "Jamba Juice franchise owner" off of his list of career possibilities.  

17 Months

Dear Brady,

You are... how shall I put this... a personality lately. You know what you want, and you're quickly figuring out how to tell us about it. Most of the time it is absolutely hilarious, and your dad and I find ourselves stifling giggles a lot. You do things that are bad, but manage to be all adorable about it. It's nearly impossible not to laugh, but we don't want to encourage you. It's all very complicated, really.

You seem to come up with new words every day. Numbers are your latest obsessions, and you're getting closer and closer to knowing all your numbers 1-10. You can now point to them all when asked, but you only say two, four, five, six,eight, and nine. I'm not sure what you have against one, three, seven, and ten, but at the moment you just point at them and grunt. Still, numbers are just your thing right now. You literally do a happy dance when I take out your counting book. You get distracted during your swim lessons by the depth markers on the side of the pool-- all of a sudden you're pulling toward the wall, saying "twwwwwoooooo".

Speaking of swimming lessons-- you, sir, are a little daredevil. We had our first class yesterday (I say "we" because you are still in the "mom has to get in the water too" age group), and the teacher kept remarking how fearless you are. You jump right in, dunk your little head, whatever. You're not a fan of floating on your back yet, but we're working on it. You area fan of the fact that the pool is shallow enough for you to stand by yourself. You run around in chest-high water, chasing the little rubber duckies and yelling "duk! duk!" The teacher says in 5 years of teaching she's never seen a kid your age who balances in the water like you can. You are a physical little dude.

Our biggest discipline problem lately is actually pretty disgusting-- we can't seem to keep you away from the cat's butt. Seriously. This is not entirely your fault, though. For whatever reason, Peanut seems bound and determined to put it right in your face and so, being the curious kid you are, you touch it. Let's just say that I find myself washing your hands a lot lately.

Moving on.

You are amazingly sweet and affectionate lately. You are generous with your hugs and kisses when we ask for them, and you have also started running up to us spontaneously and throwing your arms around whatever part of us you can get your hands on. When I'm sitting on the floor, you'll come stand right next to me, put your little arm around my neck and your head on my shoulder. It feels like happy.

One more for the adorable list-- last night after dinner, I said, "Brady, do you want to go in your room and read a book?" You reached up and grabbed my hand, said something that sounded a whole lot like "Come on, Mama!", and dragged me to your room. Miraculous.

Of course, you're not sweet and obedient and affectionate all the time. Not even close. Some days, it seems like you have laser focus on the things that you know you are not supposed to do, and no amount of stern "No!"s or trips to the time-out corner even phase you. You also have a really bad habit of biting me when you're angry, and you've been known to thrash and scream when I'm trying to change your diaper or get you dressed. Such is life with a toddler, though. Sometimes I think I'll tear my hair out, but then you do something adorable and all is forgotten. Mostly.

It is endlessly exciting to watch you go go go and do do do. The little wheels are always turning in that head of yours. I love that we can sit and communicate now, and reading with you is one of the highlights of my day. Sometimes, I think I will burst from how much I love you. As far as your Dada and I are concerned, you are the greatest thing that ever happened to anyone. You will never have to wonder if you are loved-- that I can guarantee you.

I love you always, Bubba.

Love,

Mom

Breaking News: It was the 4th of July. I was not at work.

When Paul and I left the house at 9:28 on Saturday morning to take Brady to our neighborhood's 4th of July parade, we had no idea what to expect. Maybe a few kids on decorated bikes?

Instead, we saw this coming down the block...

 

A LOT of people! There was unabashed, blatant cuteness everywhere.

 

  

 

 

I don't think I appreciated just how many kids there are in our neighborhood. Brady will never lack for a playmate.

The parade wound around to the retirement home a few blocks away, where all the residents were outside and waiting.

 

The kids all paraded in front of them, and there were smiles and high-fives all around. It was downright heart-warming. We said the pledge of allegiance, a little girl sang the national anthem, and the kids had popsicles. My little neighborhood makes me happy.

We hung out and ran errands for awhile after the parade, and then Brady had spaghetti for lunch (at least it's red-- that's kind of festive, right?). As is usually the case now, he insisted on feeding himself with his hands, one noodle at a time. 

 

He ate until he was ALL...

 

...DONE!

 

Our evening was spent at a bar-b-que at a neighbor's house, where I got to know several neighbors who I'd never even met before. We ended up having a really good time (despite the rain! on the 4th of July!), and staying a lot longer than I thought we would. Brady got to stay up past his bedtime watching the neighbor kids set off fireworks, but by about 8:45 he was passing out. We took him home and put him to bed, and then hung out in the front yard with yet more neighbors watching the fireworks. And folks, there were a lot of fireworks. Apparently, Nebraskans really like to blow things up.

It was a good day.

Project 365

6/29/09

How I survived Monday (l to r): a Neti Pot, tissues, antibiotics, Advil Cold & Sinus, and Sudafed. Oy.

 

6/30/09

That's my boy.

 

7/1/09

The day lillies along the side of our house are finally in full bloom. Aren't they fabulous?

 

7/2/09

My guys.

 

7/3/09

More happy summer flowers. The impatients on my deck are going crazy!

 

7/4/09

We got up on Saturday morning to participate in our neighborhood's 4th of July kids parade. It was really cute, and Brady loved it! I do have more pictures to share, but I just wanted to give you a sense of how many people were there. So many kids!  

 

7/5/09

This is apparently a game that Paul and Brady play while I'm at work. Circus baby!

Friday Fluff

Obviously it's not true, but I feel like I'm the only person in the world who has to work today. It's veeeery quiet around here. Let's try and keep it that way, ok? Nobody go blowing your hand off with a firework, alright? I'm looking at you, random drunk guy who has been blowing things up since Tuesday.

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Last week, Paul canceled our cable tv service in a fit of rage. We had a cable/internet/phone bundle package, and our internet had been going out all the time for a matter of weeks. For someone who has been working mostly from home recently, this was apparently kind of annoying. Anyway, all I really know is that I heard a string of obscenities from downstairs (where his computer is), and a few hours later there was a satellite dish on my roof. He told me we'd actually save about $100 a month, which was enough for me.

So about an hour after he canceled our service, I suddenly couldn't get my email. Then it hit us-- our email addresses had been connected to that particular service provider. It didn't take long to get new email addresses from a new provider and a mass email sent out to all our contacts about the change, but for about an hour I was in kind of a panic. I had no idea how cut off I'd feel without my email. How would anyone contact me? How would I know if there were comments on my blog? What if I missed something important?

I may be a little too plugged in. Seriously. Life may have been better before all this technology. (But you know I don't really believe that for a second!)_______________________________________________________________________________________

Note to self: There are certain times of the month (ahem) when I should really refrain from "let's make decisions about our goals/dreams/direction of our lives" kinds of conversations. It only ends in totally irrational emotional breakdowns that will seem ridiculous in a few hours.

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I was totally planning to write about how freaking stressful mealtimes are with Brady (i.e. will. not.eat.) lately... and then he started eating like a horse over the past few days. My kid who wouldn't eat more than a few bites at each meal is once again wolfing down entire quesadillas.

I suppose I'll file it under "everything is a phase". No doubt he'll launch on another hunger strike shortly, and I'll forget everything I've learned and get all stressed out again. Sigh.

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In honor of my actually being home on the 4th of July, Paul and I have decided to go full-Americana and take part in all our little neighborhood's activities. We'll be out front for the kiddie parade tomorrow morning at 9, I'm bringing spinach dip to the neighborhood potluck bar-b-que tomorrow evening, and we'll be back on our lawn after dark to watch people blow things up (dudes-- my neighbors buy a lot of fireworks) in our cul-de-sac.

It'll be interesting to see how Brady does with all the fireworks. My guess is that they won't phase him, but after the sprinkler incident, who knows. But whatever happens, you know there will be plenty of photographic evidence!

Have a fun, safe 4th everyone!

Undefined

I do not feel funny or irreverent.

I do not feel reflective or insightful.

I do not feel creative or innovative.

What does one write about in such a mood?

I feel like I could jump in the car and drive to Alaska. Not to run, but just to see something wildly different.

Itchy.

I feel like whining, but know that I really have nothing to whine about. I am lucky.

I make very little sense sometimes.

Pay no attention. It's just a mood. It happens, right?

That is all.

Go Figure.

Remember how I said that we hadn't discovered anything that scares Brady? How balloons bursting in his face, barking dogs running up to him, even the ocean didn't seem to phase him at all?

Today, we found out what scares him.

My child-- the one who hurls himself into pools, sticks his head into a stream of water shooting out of the mouth of a giant concrete dolphin, and loves nothing more than splashing in the bath-- is afraid of the sprinklers.

It was a nearly perfect day today weather-wise, so when Paul suggested that we let Brady run through the sprinklers (right after the plumber finished fixing them-- they've been sidelined ever since a frozen pipe-bursting incident this winter), I was totally on board. I stripped him down to a swim diaper, carried him out the front door, held his hand, and led him into the sprinklers.

Oh, the wailing. The wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth. My child-- the one who begged for more when Paul was tossing him literally feet above his head and into a swimming pool last month-- ran away, pointing accusationally behind him wailing "WA WA! WA WA!" like it was a bad thing.

A few minutes later we filled up his new little kiddie pool in the back yard, and once again he was the happiest kid on the block, dancing in the water and splashing away. Then we turned the sprinklers back on, and the tears returned.

Water? Awesome. Water shooting out of the ground? Not cool.

Go figure. 

Project 365

Ok, I'm back.

What I thought was a massive allergy attack turned out to be a sinus infection and ear infection (why do I get sick like a 2nd grader?), and I didn't do anything more taxing yesterday than driving to the doctor's office for antibiotics. Paul won huge points with me by taking care of Brady pretty much all day, while I laid in bed whining. I watched the E True Hollywood Story on Punky Brewster (seriously), and read David Sedaris essays when The Bachelorette went to commercial break. I figured Sedaris might help replenish some of the brain cells that that other stuff caused to wither and die.

Anyway, I'm feeling much better today (not 100 percent, but better) and am back up and at 'em. And back to my belated Project 365.

6/22/09

I was still suffering post-vacation malaise early last week, and I wasn't feeling terribly creative. When in doubt: Cat Portraits.

 

6/23/09

He's a very serious musician.

 

6/24/09

When we went out to dinner on Wednesday night, Brady refused to eat. Until, that is, we broke up his quesadilla and put the pieces in his little cars. Apparently his plate wasn't entertaining enough.

 

6/25/09

On Thursday morning at Julie's house, Brady and Bella played outside with a big tub of water. This resulted in him, once again, running around at a friend's house with no pants. Why does that keep happening?

 

6/26/09

Friday morning at the Children's Museum. We spent a long time flying planes.

 

6/27/09

More playing in the water (this time it was the hose in our backyard). More lounging sans-pants.

 

6/28/09

Since this picture was taken after midnight, I'm counting it as my Sunday picture. We hosted the closing cast party for the show Paul directed, which was a lot of fun. The amazing part? 30-plus loud people in our house (and in our hot tub), and Brady slept through the whole thing. Don't you wish you could sleep like that?