last first holiday

i just realized it's t2's last first holiday.
we had big plans to go to the beach today, but it got cloudy so we went to the pool instead. it was sunny there and foster's freeze is right around the corner.
if you can't have a french fry on the fourth of july, when can you have a french fry.
tayloe's leaving in the morning for the live earth concert in johannesburg south africa. he'll be back tuesday, which is also his birthday.
(aside: who goes to south africa for a weekend? right now i'm watching him zip up his tiny little daypack backpack, which holds everything he's taking. who takes only a carry-on backpack to SOUTH AFRICA? jeeze louise).
anywho that leaves me and wmd, who in the last week really amped up his 'spirit.' it's as if someone told him (geoff emery) that we are going to love & feed him no matter if he's an angel or tayloe the terrible.
slamming his sippy cup on the floor after a long, wet gulp. screeching at me when he doesn't get what he wants in the time he thinks he ought to get it (one second after notifying me). putting his little paws on the dvd player/tv etc and looking back to make sure i see. and my favorite, acting like a junkie going through withdrawl when i change his diaper.
i'm the adult, i keep telling myself. i'm the adult. i'm the adult. i'm the adult.
that means i do the adult thing. set the boundries, say no, show him what he can play with, sympathize with his frustration, explain the right thing to do and then move on and so on.
but damn, people, sometimes i want to throw that sippy cup up in the air and blast the bitch with a 12-gauge shotgun.
but then i think of all the explaining i'd have to do. and the mess it'd make.
so instead i act mature and say (under my breath) with conviction, "look you, last year at this time you didn't even exist."
so there.

wolly's world

it's true that wolly has been marginalized in the past year - much like the guy in the office who's really annoying but too nice to fire.
after the inital shock and then after-shock and then after-after shock, i think he's finally accepted that he really is a dog. i think he's maybe even gone the extra step and accepted that being a dog is, in fact, pretty damn good.
look at him here. he's stone-cold sober. he hasn't been this mellow since tayloe fed him half a bottle of dog prozac five years ago.
being the dog in our family isn't such a bad deal. there's a lot to envy (tons of sleep, tons of love), but the thrice-daily showers of table scraps are probably his primary reason for sticking around.
keeping up with (enduring) t2 has aged him, though. he's whiter around the muzzle for sure. he has arthritis in his back leg. he moans sometimes when he has to get up. he has a very hard time jumping in the car.
earlier this week i became convinced that something was terribly wrong with him. he was scratching like a madman, was an ashy, flaky mess and wasn't even walking on his back leg. wolly can be a total pain in the ass and i cuss at him more than anyone, but i'd die if something happened to him. just die.
i hauled him to the vet.
my vet is a bitch. she's cold and stodgy and has no bedside manner whatsoever. however, she really knows dogs and she especially knows dogs with skin problems.
wolly hates the vet - not just this vet. all vets. it's like he smells the fear and it sends some kind of wacko surge to his brain. it's a wonder he doesn't poop all over himself everytime we go.
three vet technicians later, wolly's heaved onto the examination table (which blows my mind, but that's something else entirely). he's standing stiff legged, hot breath panting like a beast while one woman is trying to calm him down, another is holding his left side and yet another is holding him on the right. the vet is at his rump, trying to examine his hind leg.
for some reason she's trying to get him to sit. on the leg that hurts. while perched like a damn parakeet on this exam table.
when he won't do it, homegirl says TO ME, "wolly's not trained is he?"
and then she told me he's overweight and needs to be eating weight management (or at least senior) dog chow. AND THEN she tells me i need to brush his teeth.
i told her that i don't even brush my child's teeth.
my $56 exam fee bought me all of that, plus a little peace of mind. turns out the only thing wrong with wolly is that he's gettin old.
just like the rest of us.

giggle

secret lover

this is the conversation i just had with my washing machine:
me: oh washing machine. what would a day be without the warm, lush way you drench my clothes and the hum of your spin cycle?
wm: hands off, woman! i need a break.
me: no breaks, wm. don't blame me, blame the weapon of mass destruction. he's hell on a t-shirt.
wm: sigh. hey, speaking of wmd - can you ask him to stop banging his blocks on my front side? i'm bruise easily.
me: rub some dirt on it. (pause) i miss tayloe.
wm: well he can't be far. only moments ago he was french kissing my torso.
me: no, no. tayloe the husband.
wm: husband? i've never seen a husband. what husband?
me: my husband.
wm: wwhhaa? oooooohhhhh. OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. well, thank god. i seriously thought we were going to have to have an intervention over the fly fishing shirts and army pants.

kiddie p.e.

leave it it pharida to find the grooviest, most old-school kid activity in our parts. this morning she and i and sadie and tayloe went to gym class with dave rabb. dave himself greeted us, hawaiian shirt, nose hairs, jersey accent and all. he and his wife run the place and they romp around with the kids, let them climb on everything, bring out buckets of balls, build obstacle courses, sing songs, jump on trampolines and play country music. it's a little hole in the wall that's low (way, way low - so very low) in pretention and high on good, clean fun.
i never knew such a place could exist in los angeles.
dave took lots of time to meet tayloe (who he called 'Thor' for the first 15 minutes because he misunderstood his name) and taught him how to do a backwards somersault, which thor liked very much.
next time, i'll take pictures.

swimmy

lets not forget

who the best dad in the whole world is. my father and me, winter 1979

happy father's day

top 10 things we love about tayloe the dad
10. he does a mean 'n sync/boyband impression that always makes us laugh
9. he knows every single word to 'my favorite things' and 'edelweiss'
8. there are very few things he won't do for cake
7. he watches soccer in spanish at high volumes for abnormally long periods of time
6. he reminds me of my dad
5. he sings in the shower
4. he does very good work for a very worthy cause
3. he rocks our baby to sleep
2. he makes up silly stories and sometimes he tells the same stories over and over again, but they never get old (almost never)
1. he grows and evolves without ever changing.

wait, wait, wait

i got this little walker thing earlier this week, wednesday i think, and t2 couldn't do a thing with it. in fact, it was useless to him just yesterday. he'd stand up, hold on to it and then flop down on the floor.
today i sat down with him to play and he gravitated toward it and took off.
is that really all it takes - 3 days - for him to get the hang of something as complicated as walking upright? it takes me three days to get our books back to the library on time (why isn't there an online rental service for books, anyway? netflix for novels).
i feel like i savored just about every moment of his babyhood. i really do - i mean, if anything i over-enjoyed it. i double-dipped, went back for seconds. i ate the fat. and i'll tell you, it was delicious.
i'm being a little over-nostaligic, but how can it really be just about behind us? i mean, i still have 10 lbs of pregnancy weight that i vowed to lose before t2 was a toddler so please dear god say it's not true. say the deadline isn't lurking over me like a very, very knarly thunderstorm.
i want my baby back, baby back, baby back. ribs.

just peachy

i have messed up and cleaned up the kitchen four times today and we've yet to have dinner. sometimes i feel like it's all i do. pull things out of the fridge, put them back, pull out bowls and plates and forks, wash them, put them back. repeat, repeat, repeat.
tayloe's leaving for a week on sunday and the only good thing about that is that my kitchen work load will significantly decrease. kinda like at my old jobs when the boss was out of town.
i do my best thinking in the kitchen. lately there've been about 6 or 7 things that are repeatedly on my mind when i'm standing at the sink or chopping or stirring something on the stove.
they are:
1. we don't have to separate our recycling, it just all goes in one huge bin in the back. so who does separate it? is there a machine that weeds out the plastic from the paper and glass and if so, how big is it and how does it know? a trip to the recycling plant might make a good field trip one day.
2. our neighbors have a bumper sticker on the back of their car. it reads, "who would jesus bomb?" this question occupies my mind for hours.
3. what will i be in my next life? a seal? a flamingo? a rock?
4. what would my spare change sign read if i were homeless? need cash for alcohol research? sign for sale? help me pimp my box?
5. what do they use to ship styrofoam?
6. what will be the first thing i do with the money when i win the lottery?

go to work with dad day

i hope my look in the photo with ben affleck says it all because i'm just not sure what to say about today, or the week we've had for that matter.
will there ever be another time my little boy doesn't seem to care that he's being cuddled by a supermodel? i cherish these days.
da-da? dddaaaa-ddddaaa? what 'wicked game' video? what happened to her top? mom said she was very young in that video and it was obviously made before she had children. da-da, what does sultry mean? why don't i want to fall in love? hhuuuhhhmmm? da-da?

la woman

of course i decided to leave my camera in the car on our fancy night out, so tayloe took this glamorous picture of me filling up the car on the way home. (did you know i cut my hair even shorter? no? well, i cut my hair even shorter.)
ladies and gentlemen, she walks the red carpet and pumps petrol (tayloe was at the atm).
**applause**
we had a great time and i could have kicked myself 1,000 times and then picked me up and kicked me again for not taking my camera along. we really did get to walk the red carpet into grauman's theater, in front of all those cameras and lights and screaming people and na-na-na oscar night hollywood music.
can you believe that? they really play music outside to set the mood.
it worked for me. the sounds rang in my ears as my little black sandal touched the red carpet for the first time. it took all the will power i had not to take off in a delirious sprint, striping off my clothes as i ran like a maniac toward george clooney.
that would have really embarrassed tayloe, though. so instead i walked slowly and tried to act like i'd been there. which was very, very, VERY hard. because, um, i hadn't.
no one was looking at us, obviously. but who cares. i sure didn't because just inside there was free popcorn and soda. FREE! and i didn't have to wait in line to soak my snack in buttery topping because it's very f-a-t-t-e-n-i-n-g. pity for them.
we munched and chatted and watched people and counted fake boobs. then there was the movie, which was fine. oh and the theater! it was gorgeous.
as if it wasn't already an amazing date, we got to walk on the red carpet AGAIN to get to the after party. there were people everywhere waiting to get a glimpse of someone famous. that we were in the middle of all that makes me laugh so hard.
it was just an amazing hollywood night, with movie stars and oppulence and acrobats and fireworks and drink and food. we sat and talked with matt damon and his wife, who are lovely. for me, seeing my favorite entourage character, lloyd, and for a moment really believing that i was living the perfect reality of a tv show was the highlight.
that and the free popcorn.

red carpet ready

this pic was taken a few days ago, back when it was sunny. it's been grey and cool for three days and for some reason it feels like eternity. phewy on june gloom.
tayloe and i are going to the premiere of ocean's 13 tonight at grauman's chinese theater. i finally cleaned out my closet friday and rediscovered one of my favorite dresses. i zippered my skin trying to see if it fit and thought maybe that was an indication that it didn't so much, but then tayloe came in and helped me and turns out it fits just fine. this does volumes for my self worth.
i just waxed my eyebrows because maybe i'll meet brad pitt and if i do, i sure as shit don't want a jungle on my forehead. it's been so long since i've done it that i forgot that it's not the best idea to wax and plan to go anywhere within 5-6 hours.
oops.
i'm pretty excited about our night out, but what i really can't stop thinking about is grauman's theatre and whether they sell pop corn. oh, i hope so.

lovers

well i'll be damned - a picture really is worth a thousand words.
check out a few more here.

aw, shit

i've been feeling a little unhinged lately. t2 is going through some kind of nap transition that has our days jumbled and all this crawling and exploring and keeping up with is hard on a gal. so the end of the day comes and just about everything around us is a complete, turned-over, spilled-on, crunched-up cheerio mess. because i'm a bit of a tidy tina, messes get to me. bad.
i feel like my brain has ridden the scrambler 678,000 consecutive times.
that said, the other day i was trying to clean out my closet while t2 poked around in our bedroom. my closet is a nightmare right now. i've been either going barefoot or wearing flip flops for the past month because i can't find any of my shoes.
so i'm on task and making progress when t2 has an explosion. i pick him up and dash him to his room for a change when i realize that a big, wet glob of dung has spilled out of the back of his diaper and onto my arm, shirt and (somehow?) foot.
very soon, there's splatter on the walls and on his FACE and well, everywhere. it's sticking to absolutely everything.
whoever invented glue had a baby, i'm sure of it.
we got through it and later that day went for a walk to the park with wolly. only the dog park was closed for cleaning. so i tied wolls to a poll and decided to push t2 on a swing until it reopened. that didn't work out, though, because i turned around 5 minutes later and a bevy of spanish nannies were shouting perro! perro! consiga ese perro loco!
there was a black dog standing at the gate of the kid park prancing and panting and drooling and generally acting like a rabid madman.
do i claim him or do i just act like nothing's happening?
wolly, good ol wolly, chewed through is leash. isn't that just precious?
i scurried to get t2 in his stroller and get over to the wolly before he did something really stupid. the dog park was still closed (it's all mulch, but they actually spend an hour a week watering the goddammned thing), so we shuffled over to a grassy area, pushing the baby and holding wolly by the 10 inches of leash left attached to his neck.
i was busy convincing myself that someone very nice would find wolly if i just took his collar off and left him at the park when a ranger found us. i was sure, absolutely sure, he was going to tell us to leave and i was going to have to start crying because i had a long walk ahead of me that would have been murder with a stroller, a hyper lab and no leash.
instead he handed me a new leash, one he'd found and presumably been waiting to give to someone just like me.
someone pathetic.
i thanked him, probably with tears in my eyes, and he said he was about to turn off the sprinklers and we could go in the dog park - 5 minutes earlier than he was supposed to let us in.
a random act of mercy.
and i sometimes wonder why i'm so tired at the end of the day.

tayloe in the wild

sometimes i feel like a species scientist in the field, watching some kind of beast. i think it's funny that when we're just sitting around like this, my brain downshifts and i think about as little as possible while his little thinker is no doubt in motorskill overdrive.
the movie grizzly man kinda makes sense to me now. i get why that dude went a little bonkers and actually thought he was connected to the bears in a way no one else was. he watched them all the time.
of course, they ate him in the end, but anyway.

traffic in the kitchen

ol wolls is dealing (just barely) with t2's love of balls, which must really be reeking havoc on his mental state. especially because t2 will grasp a ball in his hand and wiggle his way over to wolly and offer it up to him. i mean, literally bonk him in the nose with it or drop it right near his feet. for some reason, a reason i really can't begin to understand, wolly doesn't respond. most of the time he just gets up and tries to find a peaceful place to sleep. which, of course, prompts t2 to scamper along behind him, panting.
other times i swear wolly actually plays opposum. leave me alone kid, i'm dead.
very un-wolly.
the only thing i can figure is that these two worked out some kind of cheerios + goldfish for hours of torment trade, with wolly writing in some kind of all-day, everyday fetch policy that'll become active as soon as t2's old enough to play that game.
anyway, how bout that speed crawl, eh? there's just one speed - superfast. i kinda want to paint little flames on the outside of his thighs. the trouble, though, is that his limbs can't always keep up with his overdrive. so at least once a day his zip turns into a flail and he face plants on the floor. ouch.

what does a doggie say?

ruff, ruff? woof? arf? gggrrr?
not in our house. i ask t2 what a dog says, specifically what our hyped up, over-bred crazy dog says, and he pants.
heh, heh, heh. heh, heh, heh.
nothing's truer than the truth.

happy campers

we got a wild hair and went on a camping trip up the coast last weekend. it's interesting with a baby. i didn't know dirt could stick in so many places and you just haven't lived until you've hiked a 10 month old to an outhouse and tried to bathe him while you shower.
we spent one night near the beach, all hunkered in together with bellies full of fajitas listening to waves crash. the next day, we trucked up to big sur and camped in a redwood grove. the canopy was so beautiful we left the rain fly off so we could stare at the trees all night.
inspired, we kept going up to mendicino county, where our friend kevin lives in a tree house near the beach. we ate like royality and drank more anderson valley wine than i really want to remember. by the time we got home we looked like a band of gypsies. even wolly was tired.
we've driven the entire pacific coast highway, from the very top of the olympic peninsula in washington to los angeles. the stretch between malibu and san fran is some of the most amazing.
it's t2's 10 month birthday. here's a pic to mark the day.

bubbles

ball buster

mama's boy

there's a story about our first mother's day in my head, but i think i'm going to save it for the book. that way it'll give us all a little, what's the word ... distance from reality. that always makes things funnier.
it ended rather nicely, i will say that. we went to a lovely party in the afternoon and tayloe made me a grilled cheese while i watched casino royale.
at the party, we got to see our friends joe and sara, their baby twin girls, josie and chase, and their 4 year old sal. everyone was getting along swimmingly until t2 tried to french kiss a twin (i'm not sure which, i can't tell them apart). he opened his mouth and moved slowly, romantically toward her, ready to dazzle her with his carrot breath and incoming top tooth. he licked his lips and drooled (thanks for the tips, wolly) and was just about to make his move when, slamma. she heisman'd him. hand to the face. no way, mr. not on the first date, cool your jets and take 5. and don't even think about moving in on my sister. everyone laughed and he cried in defeat and humiliation.
ps - thanks to ganny for the most smashing new suit and shoes. you just can't find these kind of classics in la. xoxo

indigo child

dr. destruction is coming on 10 months and i think that has people thinking about preschool. by people i mean folks other than me. i'm not thinking about it because i'm still waiting for this child's mother to come pick him up.
where is that lady, anyway?
at the park the other day i was mindlessly talking to a mother sitting near me. it's a nice day, your daughter's cute, i hate the sand at this place, what's up with the new dog park near the airport. blah blah blah. the kind of chatter that takes up space and time but doesn't really get you anywhere. the kind of chatter, frankly, that i expect from and have come to enjoy at the park.
maybe i was zoning out a little too much, because this lady decided to clobber me with 'what preschools do you have him on the list for?'
not have you thought about it. not have you been to look at any. have you GOTTEN HIM ON LISTS? PLURAL!
um, what?
i thought for a very quick second about lying and saying yes but then i realized i don't know the names of any preschools in a 100 mile radius, so i'd surely look like an idiot when she asked me which ones. and she FOR SURE was going to ask me which ones.
so i just said no, hoping she'd think i was such an idiot, dangerously dumb even, that i no longer was worthy of her company and the conversation could be over.
but that's not the way things work at the park, it seems.
instead, she decided to rattle on about how competitive good preschools are, how most couples go look at them when THEY'RE PREGNANT and how her kid (13 months, mind you, a good year and a half away from preschool) is on four lists or some shit.
oh. how interesting, i say.
why the rush, i asked. i felt annoyed, like horse-fly-buzzing-around-your-head annoyed.
she blabbed on about the reasons as i tuned out. i was just about to excuse myself when she said, 'but the real reason we've been looking so diligently (interesting choice of words, i thought) is because XXX is an indigo child.'
i looked at the kid to see if she was blue. or cross-eyed. or seemed retarded in anyway.
she was scooping shovel fulls of sand into a bucket. once the bucket was full, she'd dump the sand out and start all over. occasionaly she'd grab a fist full and open her hand and stare at it for an extended period of time. she looked perfectly normal.
did i really need to hear what an indigo child is? more importantly, did i need to hear it from this woman?
apparently, i'm a masochist.
indigo children, i learned, are extremely bright, gifted children who have an evolved consciousness and have come here to help change the 'vibrations of our lives' because they have a strong desire to live instinctively. they are our bridge to the future because they are the ones who are going to create one land, one globe, one species. also they have an amazing memory and are easy to recognize because they have bright, clear eyes. sometimes they have a blue aura, but that part is disputable.
the 'vibrations' part is verbatium, by the way.
it all made sense. if you had the jewel of the world, the savior, a little messiah or the next dali lama on your hands, wouldn't you want the very, very, very best preschool, too?
me on the other hand. i just have an average goofy blonde kid who likes to be pushed in a moldy, blue swing and bang his head against things. the best i can hope for is that he gets an ok teacher at public school and doesn't end up in jail.
i looked at her kid again. she put a handful of sand into her mouth.
i'm forever facinated by realities, by our truths - how things that are very real to one person can be complete bullshit to another.
i guess that's why i kept listening. i wanted to see how something so completely absurd to me could be so very, very true to her.
of course, we didn't make it that far. it was way too hot and rarely do i ever reach an epiphany without vodka, tonic, ice and limes.
we parted ways and she seemed happy that we'd met. that was one of us, at least. i'm left having to find another park, one that's sure to be less convenient, to go to.
of course yesterday i called pharida, asking for her advice on preschools. true to herself, she said she was probably going to send sadie to one up the street. it's good, it's cheap, doesn't have too long of a list and is three blocks from our neighborhood.
i trucked up the street yesterday to check it out, all the while thinking, 'this is really something this child's mother should be doing.'

new do

i was pretty solid on not cutting t2's hair until some (dumb) lady at the library said "what a pretty little girl." ugh. snip, snip, snip.
and to my surprise, he still looks the way i think a baby should look. so no harm, no foul.
every night at supper tayloe and i say one thing we're thankful for. tonight, i'm thankful to have such a patient dog. wolly certainly has his, um, quirks. but when it comes to sweetness, he rules. every morning t2 and i get up, get coffee and take dubs to the dog park. in return, he's kind and loving and adoring (and calm) the rest of the day. we've found our groove and it is good.

derby day

we had an impromptu kentucky derby party saturday and this is what t2 wore. dressing him is one of my favorite things to do. poor kid.
here's the debate happening in our house right now - should we give t2 a hair cut, paying special attention to trimming the hair around the ears.
tayloe says yes, that he looks like a hick.
i say no, little boys are supposed to have hair over their ears. if we trim it, won't he look like a little man?
help us. but keep in mind what happened the last time tayloe gave him a 'trim.'

gimme five

the latest from the land of ttwo. pardon the firmness with which i instill the new skill in the final frames of this video. perhaps i was a little gung ho.
observe also that the moment i cease to entertain, he turns and goes straight for da-da, who he has decided he loves more than anything else in the entire world.
he wakes up, takes one look at me and then yells, "DA DA???" "
i put him on the floor and he takes off crawling toward tayloe, muttering "da-da, da-da, da-da."
he gets to his father and has a melt down at his feet until tayloe picks him up. then he smiles uncontrollably and giggles a lot, looking at me every once and a while to make sure i see that he's having a perfectly delightful time without me.
da-da. da-da. da-da. dadadadadadadadada.
it's all da-da all the time.
and i'm totally fine with that.
oh also, we had the nine month appt yesterday. everything's just fine and get this - little tayloe got a shot, a hugh needle in his thigh, and he didn't cry. not a peep. isn't that weird? and amazing? the nurse said it made her feel good, so she gave us 4 cans of free formula, a bunch of $5 off coupons and a very nice book on early childhood development.
you should have seen me carrying all that crap plus the baby to the car. where was da-da when the similac was falling from my purse, when my hands were so full i had a book of coupons clutched between my teeth all while my pants were falling down and the baby was clinging to my neck for dear life. huh? huh? DA-DA????
i am woman. hear me roar.

that's not my baby

his feet are too big.
here's what i've been thinking lately - that the t2 i know now can't possibly be the same t2 that i met 9 months ago. they just don't seem like the same child. in fact, he doesn't even seem like the same child he was last week. i think when something changes and evolves so deliberately right in front of you, it's very hard to piece all the time together so that it makes sense and flows properly. and at the same time and in a very opposite way, it does flow properly and he's most definately the same kid he was the day he was born.
it's all very weird.
to keep life's larger questions from blowing my simple little mind, i continue to concoct baby mush in the magic bullet. this keeps me occupied and gives me the illusion of having control over something. this afternoon i steamed carrots and then bulleted them with garlic hummus. tonight i blended our leftovers again. it's sad that i have so much fun dishing out my experiments. it isn't even about nourishment or my neurotic need to feed anymore. it's all about my ego and getting positive feedback from this creature who is now my job.
how's it taste, boss?

Barrel House Mamas

Some sweet Virginia music from the Menokin Bluegrass Fest After-Party..U gotta Love them Barrel House Mamas!

that's what friends are for

this is my friend pharida and her little girl sadie. pharida lives up the street from us and about two months after t2 was born, she came over to introduce herself. i loved that about her. i also loved that she was wearing yoga pants and a t shirt and didn't have a stitch of make up on was so completely comfortable with herself. i also loved that she brought coffee and chocolate. it was friends at first sight.
there are days when we're each others salvation. many afternoons i cart t2 over to her house and plunk him down with sadie while pharida and i pop popcorn and gossip about people in our neighborhood and the people at the park. we meet at the swings and swap US weeklies and People magazines. very often we go out after the babies are asleep for drinks and plates of french fries. tonight, we're going to a movie.
t2 is an amazing little creature. he's opened so many new doors for me - to family, to humor, to adulthood & responsibility. who knew he'd also bring so many awesome people into our lives? three cheers for little tay.
there are some new pics posted from our trip east. check 'em

iCreep

well, this is one way to do it. while t2's new method of transport may not be the most efficient means of getting around, it certainly is creative. so points for ingenuity kiddo.
we had a great trip east and it's good to be home. t2's newfound mobility hasn't given me time to do much of anything except chase. god forbid i leave a door open - he bolts toward the light like a moth to a bug zapper. zzzzzzeeeeetyttt.
i did, however, have time yesterday to give a take 2 to the magic bullet, the handy little chopping device that helped me create the healthful, delicious but not-so-much-a-hit salad slushee a few weeks back.
i figure all this moving around means 2's burning more calories, right? i gotta keep fillin the tank so he can do fun new things like go searching for treasures in our trash can.
this time i tried some fruit. cantaloupe and raspberries to be exact.
throw them in and chop, chop, chop. a little watery. i'll add banana.
bbblllleeeennnndd.
still watery.
maybe i'll add some cheerios.
wwwwhhhhrrrrr.
better, but still not quite right. so i open the cabinents in search of a thickening agent. sugar? no.
corn starch. hhhmm. corn starch? no.
maple syrup? honey?
rice cereal. ah-ha. rice cereal!
so i added it and blended and the result was a mixture as good as any bought in the store. except it tasted a little, um, off. i think it was the cheereos. i decided to chill it and try it anyway.
later in the day, i chopped the remainder of my tofu dog, some of my mom's sweet pickles and a little mustard. and last night, i magic bulleted some stir fry leftovers. all of these goodies were waiting in the fridge for us today.
this morning we tried the fruit mixture. t2 humored me for about 5 seconds and then decided it was horrid and splattered every bite i gave him. phewy.
this evening, however -- oh, this evening was a different story! i heated the stir fry and dished it out.
mmmmm. mmmmmmmmmmm. mmmoooommmm! this is delicious! it's lip smacking good! this is the most delicious dinner i've had yet! you're an amazing, wonderful, inventive cook and the best mother on the planet!
he said all those things. really.
because it was a success, i named the stir fry kitty b's amazing chop, chop, chopped suey fry.
next up, tofu dog mash.
seriously, folks. i may be on the way to my very own show on the food network. cooking for kids with kitty b.

first night

all week i've been thinking where we were last year at this time. a year ago today, we arrived in santa monica and saddled up to our empty house. i think today's the day we also learned that our moving truck was 'off track' and all our worldy belongings would be here 2 weeks later than we thought. we had our car, our suitcases from our road trip across the country, two easter baskets, 2 sleeping bags, tayloe's golf clubs and for some reason, our vaccum cleaner.
with that, we bought a cheap mattress and commenced operation camp-out house, in which tayloe and i spend 10 days at pacific st without a lick of comfort except before mentioned matress, a $20 tv from goodwill, 2 plates, 2 forks, 2 glasses and a bowl also from goodwill and 1 hotel towel. later in the week we bought a washer and dryer from michael london.
also, i was 6 and a half months pregnant. i was trying to remember today if i really minded it (it sure seems like i should have), but i don't think i did. all i remember is feeling happy.
when our moving truck finally did arrive, after two weeks of calling everyday and getting 1,000 different stories about where they were and when they'd be here, it was 7 p.m. the night before we were getting on a plane to go back to the east coast for the menokin bluegrass festival.
my cell phone rang around 6:45 that night. i answered.
on the other end: hey, yeah, mrs. emery?
me: yes
on the other end: well, it's us. the movers. and, uh, we're on your street and we're seein that there's a taco bell here on the corner. so we're gonna stop and get some tacos. ok?
me: um. ok? (looking out the window and down the street and in fact seeing a moving truck parked outside the taco bell)
on the other in: is that ok? you want somethin?
seriously. he asked me if i wanted something. like, maybe, furniture?
we loaded everything in this house, went to bed and left the next morning. we didn't touch a single box or unwrap a single piece of furniture. and i don't think we were really terribly fretted about it. how very zen of us.
anyway, tayloe took this picture on our first night in california, which was before all that. we were somewhere near the california-arizona border in a motel parking lot. we'd been to sedona, to denver, ridden in a helicopter, driven through a snow & hail storm, stayed in a real western inn in durango, slept on the rim on the grand canyon, hiked around the pueblos in mesa verde.
it was just us at our finest. it's been the most fun year, hasn't it tay? i'm the happiest i've ever been.

proper clothes

thank heavens for grandmothers. my mom got t2 this little suit. i call clothes like these proper clothes. i'd dress him in this little get up if tayloe were a pga champion and was in the lead on masters sunday. so what if sometimes i pretend i'm married to phil mickelson? it's allowed.
today wasn't a special day like that - phil was nowhere near the lead and bought the farm on the first hole yesterday - but it was warm and that was reason enough to duddy up the baby.
i had another gerbil day trying to figure out what all i need to do before we leave for virginia. this'll be t2's seventh trip across the country, which tayloe pointed out this morning is more than some people have in a lifetime. sometimes i wish he could remember this first year and all we've done together. he'd probably never ever want to go to utah again. i imagine he'd probably pester us daily to take him to mt. airy and greensboro, thinking it was as easy as getting on a plane and going there - the way i would always say "let's go to disneyworld!!" when i was 4 and my parents would ask me what i wanted to do on any given saturday.

waterkid

if you're a mom of a little kid, maybe you're thinking about having another one. maybe you're about to have your first one, like my closest friend cathy, who is FIVE MONTHS PREGNANT and due Aug. 25 (let's everyone give a whoop, whoop for hip, hip Cathy Lipp here!!). maybe you're feeling brave - brave enough to try some kind of 'alternative' birth. like, say, a birth in water.
first, screw your head back on, woman, and put down the hippy dippy tea. if you've done that and still think it sounds like a good idea, heed this advice: make sure you really, really like water. like it enough to spend 50 degree days sitting on the beach while your kid swims in the ocean, which is also 50 degrees. enough to go to the pool for no fewer than 6 hours a day in the summer (4 in winter). enough to say "sure, you can go swimming in that water fountain in your brand new sunday dress." enough to ride the log flume ride 35 consecutive times.
because that's what your kid will want to do. she'll want to do all of that. possibly all of that in one day.
meet my niece eliza jane. she was born in a pool. and look at her here - a fish out of water. we check her weekly for gills.
mom and dad and eliza left this morning after a really awesome week, despite the fact that i had some kind of stomach crud a good part of the time. i'll see them in two short weeks at the bluegrass festival so that made saying goodbye a little bit easier.
it's been a somewhat eventful week, i think. tayloe the dad made it home safely from africa and showered us all with great gifts from uganda and ghana. the week t2 and i spent without him was hard simply because we longed for his company and his jokes and his fill-the-room personality.
i turned 32 last week and i cut my hair short. and even though i was asked back for a second interview at the yoga studio, i didn't get the job. i think the moment i started asking how many hours i could work at home a day, they scratched me off the list. so the universe answered - it would have made our lives very complicated, and i was fretting just thinking about how we'd make it work. i feel relieved.
so we're back to normal for a few days until we shove off for the east coast for a week at the cottage in warsaw and the festival. if you're the prayin' type, please include a warm sunny day in virginia on april 21 on your list of requests.
amen.

Out of Africa

Heading home. Long trip but the last part in Uganda was incredible when we visted the Queen Elizabeth Game Reserve. Miss you guys...be home soon. XXOO JTE

clap, clap

i'm not sure exactly how he learned this, but he did. it makes me wonder what else he's picking up from us.
like the frequency with which i say the f word, the s word, damnit, goddamnit, damnit to hell, hell, what the hell, oh hell and, "WOLLY!! GO. GET. ON. YOUR. BED. .... please." i really hope none of that sinks in before i can alter my behavior. (note to self: alter behavior)
i had a job interview today. i haven't really been looking for a job as it hasn't exactly been our plan for me to have a job. it hasn't exactly not been in our plan either. you know us - this is how we are. basically planless.
anyway, it sounds like a really fun job - planning events for a yoga studio in santa monica. i left t2 with our friend and neighbor pharida and went to see what it was all about. if i'm going to take a job, it's going to be something different, something that challenges me, something i've never done before, something that's very close by and something that i can be happy at because let's face it, if mama ain't happy, nobody's happy.
this job is all of those things.
the weird thing is i have really mixed feelings about it. first, i'm not even sure it's cost effective as we'd have to call in some reinforcements. but more than that, i felt like i was cheating on t2 just going to the interview. like sneaking around behind him, seeking out a new love. it was a pretty rotten feeling.
hi, mom. meet guilt.
at the same time, i felt human again and was reminded that i'm a bright person with a little bit of charm and a nice smile.
i'll know something by the end of the week. until then, i'm surrendering to the universe.

dear dad (3),

hi dad,
it's me, tayloe. gangsta lean!
i have something very exciting to tell you. here goes.
today mom and i were getting ready for me to take a bath. we called all the bath turtles and the yellow duck together and while i was getting undressed i got really curious about what they were doing in the water without me, so i reached up to the edge of the tub and pulled myself up to my feet and peered over.
i saw the turtles and the duck swimming around and i got excited and turned around to tell mom and then i fell over.
mom said i really had to slow down, at least until friday when poppy gets here. she said there's no way she has the brain to figure out lowering the crib and even if she can do it she doesn't want to because of The Great Weenie Man Wagon Debacle of Early March 2007.
how are you? is africa very hot? will you bring me a drum? or a shaker?
mom is fine. i am being good and trying very hard to be independent, but sometimes it's hard (see below).


i'll be happy when you're home again because you make mom and me laugh. what i love about us today is that we're a family. what do you love about us today?
ok. bye.
love,
little tayloe

seriously child, act civilized.

i'm outnumbered here. t2 doesn't know what 'please don't feed the dog at the table' means even though i've said it a million times. wolly has too much labrador garbageretriever in him to ignore the baby's giving and naive spirit.
truly, wolly knows better. i know he knows because when i scold him for begging for and eventually taking t2's cracker OUT OF HIS HAND, he tucks his tail and heads for his bed.
now i'll stand for a lot. torn magazines, toys in every direction, a neon elmo toy that has sound effects in a language i don't understand. but i won't have a kid with bad manners. it's one of the very few things in parenthood that i actually have control of so no way am i giving it up.
so until 'please don't feed the dog at the table' has meaning, wolly gets shut out.
he hates this. he sits behind the door and wails.
CCCOOOOMMMEEE OOONNN, he says. THIS IS SO NOT MY FAULT. I'm a D-O-G. HE'S A PERSON. (let it be noted, however, that i'm far more advanced in most areas. i mean, i could walk 5 minutes after i was born. hello?).
once again, the pooch gets screwed.
my dear friend katie sent me an early birthday gift last week - the magic bullet. not that kind of magic bullet, she winks. this magic bullet.
it's good for all kinds of quick whip ups, not the least of which is blended food to feed to the muncher.
i decided to give it a whirl tonight. only, i forgot that i'm not really cooking anything while tayloe is gone because i cannot take care of the baby and get my freelance work done and play with the dog and do the laundry and be little Miss Molly Maid and nurse my 587th cold AND be a gourmet cook for one-person. so it's salads and lean cuisines for me.
now i've pretty much fed t2 everything except 'banned' foods, but i'm not going to blend a frozen dinner. that's the kind of thing that'll really screw up a good game of 'i never.'
that left salad.
so i chunked some veggies, threw in some lettuce and added a little water. volia! a salad slurpee. move it, rachael ray.
we sat down to eat, me with my meal and t2 with his sweet potatoes and water salad and sippy cup of formula.
sweet potatoes. good.
sippy cup. good. milk. good.
next, a bite of the salad slush. you'd of thought i fed the kid puke.
OMG, MMMMMOOOMMM? G-R-O-S-S. phwey.
since we're working on manners, i told him it wasn't polite to make a nasty face at the cook of his meals because blending salad is hard work and hard work should always be appreciated. ESPECIALLY when the person working hard is your mother.
more sweet potatoes. more milk. and quick quick quick, another bite of the amazing, wonderful, delicious, SALAD SLURPEE!!!!
AAACCCCKKK. spit, spit, spit.
no spitting at the table, son.
more milk, more sweet potatoes, a few nibbles on a cracker. and and and, here it comes, mmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmm salad slush!!!
BLEH. belch. NO salad slush. chug, chug, chug sippy cup of milk. sippy cup, save me. help sippy cup. protect me from this crazy person who is my mother.

hi da da

tayloe, this might really get your gut. and since you wept at 'Titanic' i think you should grab some tissues. sniffle.
also - reid did i ever thank you enough for this photo? it's had a permanent place on our kitchen fridge since you took it in '05 and has more than once has given me strength to put the butcher knife down and hug my husband instead of hacking him to pieces.
and since i'm not chum at the end of a line in the rappahannock, i think it's probably had the same effect on him.

little blue bucket

look who has a new blue bucket to put things in to and take things out of! between this and the metal cake pans, we have enough to occupy t2 for a couple of days.
tayloe left on friday for africa and we're here holdin' down the fort. it's life as usual except that i can watch 'flip this house' and the food network every night without interruption. by the time he gets back i'll have caught up on every episode i've missed and won't care that i no longer have control of the remote. i will have also caught up on every single girlie flick made since 1985. it's a good night when you're eating ice cream and trying to choose between 'dirty dancing' and 'bull durham.'
cute? cute? honey, baby ducks are cute ...

bye bye daddy

look! the wagon is back together and fully operational. three cheers for dad.
tayloe leaves for africa tomorrow. that leaves t2 and me for a solid week, which i think is the longest we've ever been alone together. he's still having some separation anxiety issues - 7 days straight with me should really take care of that, eh?
in the meantime, i'm considering cutting my hair. i'm just tired of it - dealing with it, brushing it, putting it up. so over it. the other thing is i'm about to turn 32 which i'm not trying to forget but also not trying hard to remember. maybe it's time for something new.
this is what i do. grow it, cut it. grow it, cut it. grow it, cut it. the last time i chopped it, i was pretty bummed. but i also remember that i didn't fully think through the style i wanted.
this time i've been doing some research. maybe this? or this? OR, this
any ideas? mmm, femullet.

the t2 boogie

hi pan. you're nice and shiny and good to make cakes in. i like the way you sound when i bang you on the floor. have you met my friend small white colander? he's like bowl (who's taking a nap in the pantry) only colander has holes. no. no. eheh. hhhmmm. jeeze, pan you shouldn't say that about someone you just met.


who can resist three dog night? not i, friend. and neither can our little boy.
i can't say i don't know where he gets it. i can break into song & dance at a moment's notice. and tayloe the dad? c'mon. have you seen his justin timberlake impression? or his imitation of an 10-year-old circa 1983 roller skating to 'faithfully'? they're spot-on.
poor kid. he's gonna grow up thinking he's normal.

mommy, am i backwards?

i spent an unnatural amount of time taking videos of t2 today. but you had to see his moves. he owns the backwards push.
also, i got so caught up in wagon building that i forgot to mention that t2's getting his first two fangs. the sharpies have broken the surface. hooray! now when little boys at the ymca hit him in the face, he can bite them. i'm so relieved.
we also spent an unnatural amount of time watching college basketball this weekend. i wedged into the DATA bracket pool and imposed hoops domination. of course i'm in 12th place, but rome wasn't built in a day people. go mighty ducks.

i love that weenie man

today was a fun day. i'm on a winning streak as far as putting things together so i decided to tackle the little red wagon t2 got for christmas from his grandpop and miss jackie. he's big enough now and the weather's getting really nice (as opposed to just nice) so there's no reason we shouldn't be sportin that ride around the neighborhood.
i dumped all the contents onto the living room floor and about 2 hours later, it was up and running. it took two hours because i put every single piece on the wrong way so after each step i had to undo what i'd done and put it on right.
i felt pretty proud when i was finished so i invited tayloe and the baby to join me for a walk around the block.
i think it was my dad who once told me that if there ever was something i didn't want to do again, i should do it wrong the first time.
i won't tell you what happened. you have to watch the video. but i will say i'm pretty sure i won't be putting anything together again anytime soon.
oh and also - no one was hurt.

My Baby Takes the Morning (Elmo) Train to Hell!

could it be?

today i felt something sharp in t2s mouth. it's possible it's a tooth breaking through. it's also possible i'm imagining things. he's been "teething" for the last four months and i think i'm the only one who can see and feel the little chompers just beneath his gums.
so i made tayloe feel it about a zillion times.
me: doesn't it feel like a tooth?
him: sure.
me: feel it again. (pulling his hand toward the baby's mouth)
him: ok. yes! a tooth!
me: come on. FEEL it.
him: i do. it is. yes. tooth.
me: tayloe, do you think it's a tooth?
this is my m.o. - creating mania where there should be none. teeth come when they want and everyone gets them eventually. i absolutely know this. i also know my kid doesn't have any.
speaking of mania, wolly is going to get a strong dose of anti-anxiety meds just as soon as i can find a doc (or an online site) who'll give 'em to me. while i was gone he dug a bunch of holes in the yard and yelped and moaned incessently and then escaped the 8 ft fence and cruised the neighborhood for anyone sucker enough to play fetch with him.
he's a good dog. he really is. he's just got a serious case of the issues.
i'll keep taking him to the dog park and on walks and he'll get lots of love still. only now he'll also get a chill pill. literally.

i talk

sometimes i look at t2 and i swear he's gained 5 lbs overnight. today was one of those days.
he was looking so cute today i came up with the top 5 things i love about him.
they are:
5. his baby chicken hair. it's growing so much he sometimes has enough to have bed head in the morning.
4. his rosy cheeks. if it's just a little bit warm, they light up.
3. his feet. still a little pigeon toed and so soft.
2. the way he snuggles into me when he's tired.
1. his voice. so new and so much yet to tell us.

the most wonderful time of the year

there are two things i miss about work. my friends. and the ncaa tournament bracket. sigh.
we all make sacrifices for the people we love, so i overlook the fact that my niece is a duke fan. how did this happen? none of us know. i took her to the women's acc tournament in greensboro while i was home and actually cheered for them right along with her, even though saying "go devils" gave me heartburn.
check out some pics from the latest trip.
the last two days t2 has fallen asleep while i'm reading to him just before his morning and afternoon nap.
this is a major departure from previous habits, which went something like this:
have a snack. read a story. rock for 5 minutes. into bed. scream for 5-10 minutes. sleep.
he's always been a decent napper, he just gets a kick out of being stubborn about going to sleep i guess.
so like a mental patient who continually slams her head into the wall, i figured i'd just keep at it until either my head fell off or my brain hemmoraged. he zonks out peacefully at bedtime, i reckoned, so surely he'll get the picture eventually. so - snack, read, rock, bed (scream), snack, read, rock, bed (scream) has been our naptime ritual for a while. i'd actually gotten pretty used to it.
and now here he is, changing it up on me. on top of that, his nap the last two days have been much longer. i wonder how long it'll last?
this weekend we graduated from the excersaucer to a very bright, somewhat obnoxious walker that has elmo on it. this led to the discovery of the best move on the planet - the zoom, crash, splash.
you can try this at home. here's how --
1. rev up wheels by rocking back and forth several times. get devil look in eyes
2. shift to first, rev engine
3. burn rubber off the line, reach flight speed
4. squeal
5. slam into wolly's water bowl, spewing water everywhere
6. laugh, squeal, look at mom to make sure she saw
7. slap feet around in the puddles.
8. back up a little and bang, bang, bang into it over and over again.
it's so fun to be little.

the shredder

doesn't little t look so sweet and innocent in these pics of his photo shoot? yeah, i'm having to look at this picture today to remember that i really do love the kid. today i'm not in love with him. i only like him. and even then only a little.
he's been slightly unpleasant to be around. first, he's been sleeping like the devil and that's made him a crankster during the day. also, he really notices when i leave the room. and by notice i mean he turns all red in the face and whines, "eeeerrrrrrrrrwwwwwwwuuuuuuu" until he can see me again.
he's also been eating a lot and having some very unpleasant deposits in his pants.
my revenge is posting this nudy pic of him.
so there.
our sixth plane ride across the country was the most interesting yet. first we were sitting next to a very stiff older man. t2 was in my lap and as the hour de-icing wore on (and on and on) i realized sitting with a 7 mo old in my lap for 5 more hours was going to lead to cold, bloody murder.
so i asked if we could move to a seat that had an empty seat next to it. blessed day, we did. only the cow sharing our aisle was clammy and everytime t2 reached for her (i tried to stop him from grabbing her boob, honestly i did) she pulled away with a very exaggerated motion and made a nasty face. and everytime he made a peep, the littlest peep, she'd act annoyed and make sure i saw her turning her mp3 player up.
i told t2 this was a good lesson - that he'd find out eventually that not everyone loved him, and even though we should feel sorry for those people for being joyless, we'd have to learn to get along with them anyway.
but he insisted on reaching for her and smiling at her and slobbering on her arm rest.
it reminded me of this cat we used to have, bandit. he was black and white and mute. he had a real knack for spotting people who didn't like cats and when he found 'em, he'd do all he could to get close. he'd wind his way around their legs, jump up in their laps, sit at their feet and give his silent, pathetic 'meow.'
anyway, once t2 gave up on cow lady, he just sat and played with me the whole time. but i mean, 5 hours, people. you can only sing so many songs and read so many books before the going gets bored.
and when times get tight (and you're sitting next to a humorless hen), i pull out the big guns. which means i handed over my People magazine and let the little bugger have at it.
this wasn't as annoying as it sounds. he very respectfully tore off one page at a time & crumbled it up, stopping only occasionaly to see what drew barrymore was wearing at the Oscars or get the latest scoop on who's pregnant in hollywood. when he was done, i'd take the page and put it in a bag of trash and he'd get started on the next one.
we shredded the entire magazine and killed an hour and 15 minutes. after that it was time for a nap. and after that, we were home.
easy enough.
p.s.: who's the coward who posted the dust comment and didn't have the guts to leave his (geoff emery) name? it's dry in LA. things get dusty. and also, we're lazy. to older tayloe's much deserved credit, he had this house spankin' clean and bought me welcome home flowers to boot. i love this man.

A word from Wolly...

Hi Mom. When are you coming home? I've been lonely without you. Dad sucks. Hurry back. Wolly

dear dad (2),

hi dad.
it's me, tayloe.
i'm having a really good time in greensboro. we've been watching a lot of basketball. mom said it's march madness, but i can't figure out why she's mad because the weather's really nice here and i'm being good.
there's not much new with me. i still don't have any teeth and i'm still crawling backwards really fast.
mom said it's really going to be a shame when my driver's license picture shows a toothless 16 year old.
mom is going to a basketball game with cousin eliza jane later. i'm too little to go so i'm going to stay here and entertain grandjane.
what are you doing? i bet you are on the couch asleep right now. and i bet the tv has golf or basketball on it. and mom said there are probably dishes in the sink, too.
i love you daddy. i miss you.
love
t2