we get around

now we're in greensboro! i feel so lucky that i'm at a place in my life where i can travel around so much without worry.
it's warmer here today than it is in LA. thank god we missed the lurching 16 degree chills. my tender southern california sensibilities couldn't have handled it.
grandjane and i are tooling around today and we may even try to get some portraits made of the youngster. like we need more pictures of him. but it would be nice to have something formal so later i can say, "see, i didn't always dress you in overalls kiddo."
last week was his seven month birthday and i finally got him in for his 6 mo appointment (aren't i brave, getting baby shots hours before a cross-country flight? i thought so, too).
he weights 18.5 pounds and is 28 inches long. he's gained three pounds in nearly two months and when the doc said, "whoa, he's grown," i asked her if i was overfeeding him and then proceeded to give her a detailed account of his daily eating habits. bless her heart, she actually acted interested.
anyway, i was happy to hear i'm not stuffing him like a thanksgiving turkey. he's perfectly normal.
on another note, i haven't had starbucks coffee since last thursday, and i think i'm suffering major withdrawls.
must. have. latte.
mmmm.

east coasters

after a minor carseat debacle we made it to d.c. just fine. tayloe, the younger tayloe, and i were picked up this morning by his paternal grandmother and great aunt, treated deliciously and delivered to the cottage, where we are peacefully resting.
well, he's peacefully resting. i'm typing this blog.
i was just taking a shower and the huge bottle of perma-soft shampoo and conditioner in there got me thinking about this list. now i can't go to bed because i'll just keep adding to it and taking away and adding to it and taking away in my head, so here it is.
the top 10 things i love about the cottage:
10. the windchimes. creepy in most places, soothing here.
9. the gigantic stump i always run over with our car.
8. the christmas lights in the gazebo, always ready for a party.
7. the big blue and white couch where i was sitting when tayloe proposed.
6. the terrible towel
5. the perma-soft, suave and scent-away shampoo bottles in the shower. may they reign high on their perch another 20 years.
4. the river.
3. billy bass. where did he go?
2. the gold chicken that holds tissues on top of the toilet.
1. and my very favorite thing about the cottage is that i feel at home here, even when i'm alone.

giddy up little mama

this is from saturday. it was one of those perfect days. we went to the beach and hiked up these cliffs to whale and seal watch. we had cha cha chicken and later took a bike ride and then even later and had beers and chips with friends. so good.
today, however, is not like that. today is one of those days when i know i have a million things to do, but i can't seem to get anything done. a gerbil wheel day.
we're leaving to go to dc tomorrow and people are staying at our house to i have to pack and clean and grocery and laundry and i haven't really started any of it.
instead, i blog.

should i worry?

well.
i thought every thing was going just fine in our marriage.
i thought we were really happy, actually.
and then - tell me if this has ever happened to you - my husband throws a whopper at me.
i'm going to watch turtles race, he says.
hahaha. hahahahahahaha. HAHAHAHAHA. hahaha. that's so funny, i said.
geeze, babe. if you hate 'the office' that much, we can change the channel. hand me the remote.
no, no. turtles, they race. at this place down the street, he says.
turtles.
race.
most men go to strip bars. not my man (not tonight, anyway), i can now proudly say. my man wants to watch reptiles compete.
i mean, are you with me? this smarts a little.
cozy night at home with me and must-see tv.
tortoises in track suits.
so we put the baby to bed, had supper together and off he went to meet friends.
and. um. watch turtles.
interesting.
ssssoooo, i guess i'll just let wolly up in the bed (on tayloe's side, under the covers, drooling on his pillow) and hit the sack.
yawn.

just another day

i heart mom (and all of you), revised

this is something new. when i walk by, t2 puts his arms up. isn't that cute? i usually pick him up, except when i don't (see before-mentioned boundries, below) at which point he decides to resume whatever it was he was doing or start crying.
he also alternates his screeching and ha-ha-ha-ha'ing with mamamama. this, i'll admit, is very endearing.
because it's a day of luv, i sorta want to reflect on other things that i heart.
here they are:
1. jte, sr. my match.
2. jte, jr. a constant reminder that love makes everything just right.
3. palm trees. they make me feel airy and they're so weird looking sometimes when i stare at one for a long time it makes me laugh.
4. wolly. i admire his refusal to ever ever ever give up. ever. ever. e.v.e.r.
5. our family, extended. so cooky and so loveable and so nice to come home to.
6. living in a very big city. it helps me remember what a huge, layered world it is.
7. my neighbor, who used to live up the street but just moved four blocks away and called me yesterday to ask if i'd bring t2 over because she missed us.
8. the lemon tree in our backyard. it never stops. lemons drop and rot on the ground and yet it keeps making them.
9. welch rarebit & pudding cake. a traditional & deliciously ghetto emery valentine's day dinner.
10. quiet. the sound just before i drift off to sleep.

slave driver

horray! life-size tayloe is home. we're all very happy.
ok. tell me if you think i'm the devil.
for the last few months, the nipper has slept most nights from 7 p.m. until 5 a.m. at 5 a.m. he'd wake up and i'd go in and rock him back to sleep. he'd then snooze until 7:15 or so. it was a habit leftover from the 5 a.m. feeding days.
at first i didn't really mind. i was happy to have a baby who's golden enough to sleep 10 hours straight.
but then, i kinda started minding. 5 a.m. is really early. and he obviously wants to get the full 12 hours in or he wouldn't be going back to sleep. so why not eliminate the interuption?
while tayloe was gone, i decided to tough love him a couple of mornings and see if he'd get the hint. after two mornings, i shaved off an hour.
so now he wakes up at 6 a.m. which is better. but it's still dark. and all three of us are still cranky upon waking. make that all four - even wolly seems put out.
so i have it in my mind to work on that final hour. that's mainly because even when he wakes up at 6 a.m. he still wants to go back to sleep, which he now does in our bed. i've solved one problem and created another.
i also feel a little guilty. 11 hours is really good. 11 hours is amazing. and the final hour in our bed isn't so bad. i could do without the whops in the face as he's falling back to sleep & the baby whines, but it's mostly kinda sweet.
but then i think about that final hour of sleep. aaaahhhh. it would be so good, wouldn't it? just to cap a good night's rest off? and i'd be happy to invite him into our bedroom at 7 for a morning bottle and some love. i'd even be in a good mood about it.
jeeze louise. you know, i always thought i'd have this very tender & soft approach to parenting. but the truth is i'm very set on establishing bounderies. this scares me a little bit.
hm, interesting. i just looked over at the baby. he's spun himself around in all directions on the floor, spit up in the process and is now slapping his hand around in the mess.
how pretty.

aquarium

yesterday we went to the long beach aquarium with jake and addie and their very fun parents.
this got t2 and i thinking about what we want to be in our next life. we both pondered it for a while. t2 toggled back and forth between a seal and a whale (orca, not gray) and a purple starfish, finally deciding on a seal because they look a lot like wolly and that must be good.
i was split, too, but decided that if i come back a sea creature i want to be a puffin bird (horned, not atlantic). it flys and swims! and has orange feet, which i think would be the coolest thing ever.

now hang on

you guys!
i'm so touched that you all had such great suggestions for new music.
i made you think our whole day is filled with kid tunes, didn't i?
whoops.
there is for sure all kinds of normal music in our house. bluegrass. reggae. motown. prince. marty robbins. modest mouse. morning mixes. lounging mixes. bedtime mixes. soft african lullabies. irish jigs. brazilian dance hall.
it's on all the time and it always has been. even long before little tayloe was around.
music is involved in just about everything we do - from the moment we wake up until we go to sleep. on top of all that, t2's lucky enough to have an extremely talented godfather just down the street in venice who'll be more than happy to show him instruments can actually be played should that be something he wants to learn.
i think all this tuneage has paid off - he's the only kid in his gym and swim class that actually starts dancing when he hears music.
it's true. he does this funny bounce/wiggle thing. which reminds me i've been meaning to take video of that.
still - i'm a fan of the silly song. maybe it's a throw back to summer camp or it makes me feel like a kid or i just get a kick out of seeing t2 laugh at me when i sing in an animated and goofy way.
actually i think it's all those things.
so the silly song cd was just an effort to boost my knowledge. c'mon. did you love the weenie song?
having said that, i'm not at all opposed to putting my own kitty twist on 'cheeseburger in paradise' (because i know every single word to that song by heart) & i did download 'birdhouse in my soul' (thanks sarah q) because it reminds me of a cross country trip with my pal lindsay b.
and of course i'm a maniac, maniac on the floor and i'm dancing like i've never danced before. i'm sure t2 will ignore the creamy white leg warmers i just put on.
(an aside from wikipedia: In 1983, there was a low budget soft-porn parody of the film called Fleshdance)
speaking of the 80s, 'girls just want to have fun' was on the boob tube this afternoon. who doesn't love sjp in a pink jump suit, helen hunt with crazy mad frizz hair and shannen doherty looking - for the only time in her storied career - virginial?
so good.

splish splash

dear dad

hi.
it's tayloe.
mom took this picture yesterday when i was watching wolly roll around in the grass. wolly is such a mess and i find that interesting.
do you like my train suit?
i'm writing to tell you that i did several things yesterday that i've never done before.
here they are:
1. i rode in the seat part of the grocery cart. i liked this very much because i could alternate looking at mom and all of the things on the shelf. i gnawed on the cart handle a little bit, but mom said that was ok because she swabbed it down before i got in.
2. i ate the grocery list.
3. i scrunched my knees up under my belly and propelled myself forward. i fell on my face, but i didn't cry.
4. i ate pears.
5. i saw a homeless man in a woman's bathing suit outside of albertsons. i know staring is rude, but mom said this one time was ok because that man looked really really really funny.
that's all.
i love you. i miss you.
i would like a snowball from germany, please.
t2

p.s. - the people in the grocery store think mom is crazy and i do too a little because she always sings whatever song is playing over the speakers and sometimes dances a little jig in the aisle. this is something we should discuss when you get home.
p.s.s - hey dad? please don't ever wear a woman's bathing suit.

game on

tayloe's out of town until monday (wwwwaaaay out of town in berlin, germany) so it's just dr. droll meister and me for the next five days.
wait, you gotta know about this drool. seriously people, there is so much slabber coming from this baby's mouth i could irrigate all of sub-saharan africa. and yet, no teeth. just little nubby gums magnetically attracted to all things hazardous.
anyway, i'm getting more and more used to these solo missions and sometimes even look forward to them.
i'm able to say that now because the baby's soundly napping in his crib and it's barely even 10 a.m. on day one.
to make sure i keep my sunny disposition, i've set some proposals. they are as follows:
1. i will not lie awake in bed until 4 a.m. and plan 15 different and unique emergency escape routes should (a) the house catch fire or (b) we get robbed. instead, i'll take 2 advil p.m's (3?) and sleep until the baby wakes me up.
2. i'll realize this is not the time to rearrange all of the furinture or clean out the garage and have a yard sale. when i feel these surges of manic energy, i'll instead assume god's telling me to get my ass to the gym.
3. i'll resist the urge to let wolly babysit.
4. i will not wish i had an office job to go to because if i do that i'll find myself having an office job to go.
5. if i feel really tired, i'll walk up the street and visit my friend phairda because her kid is a lot more work than mine and seeing her chaos will make me feel calm.
oh shit. i just noticed the car door is open. how long has it been like that?

kiddie songs

today at the library i checked out a cd of kiddie music.
kiddie music, you should know, drives me crazy.
but the camp songs i've been singing to t2 are getting kind of old and so are the storytime songs we've learned. if i sing the 5 little duck song one more time my head is going to spin around and pop off.
sense you brought up excorism, i'm also out of church hymns and christmas music.
so i got a disc of 30 Silly Songs, including my personal faves 'apples and bananas' and 'git along little doggies.' this disc isn't to listen to on a regular basis, mind you. that would be suicidal. it's little children singing, which in the flesh is cute and endearing but recorded & over-mastered in a studio is bloody, 70-knife wounds to the face murder.
it's just to bulk up my music library so i have some fresh diddies to improvise and add my own special lyrics to as i see fit.
some songs, however, are so close to perfection i dare not mess with them.
songs like 'weenie man.'
it's my new favorite. it goes like this:

i know a weenie man,
he owns a weenie stand,
he sells most anything,
from hot dogs on down, oh baby.
someday i'll change his life,
i'll be his weenie wife.
hot dog! i love that weenie ma-a-an!

i also like 'fuzzy wuzzy,' mainly because of this very to-the-point verse:

iddy biddy was a mouse.
iddy biddy had no spouse.
iddy biddy wasn't pretty.
no, by gosh, it was a pity.

step back, shakespeare.
while at the library i also did my usual run-through of the nonfiction section.
here are some titles i considered checking out and scattering around the house:
'why i jumped': my true story of postpartum depression, dramatic rescue & return to hope'
'the amazing book of mazes'
'Gay life and culture : a world history'
'born in the USA : how a broken maternity system must be fixed to put mothers and infants first'
'am-BITCH-ous : learn to be her now'

sun gods

yesterday and today are the reasons i was excited to move to santa monica. it's been like springtime here and mygod it's amazing. we spent most of yesterday and today outside walking and playing and generally worshiping the sun.
no, i didn't forget the sunblock.
yes, we even put a hat on t2. although it didn't stay on very long.
i've lost faith in humanity. today while in line to get coffee (a midway point on our morning walk and a hiatus i'm so absolutely addicted to), i was swabbing the baby down with sunblock stick. i could feel the woman behind me watching. her crazy was burning a hole in my head.
i tried very very hard to pretend like i had no idea she was back there.
but of course she spoke. she asked if it was sunblock i was using.
i'm 100 percent sure i said yes in a very unfriendly way. this is my new tactic to fend off unsolicited advice when i'm with the baby (only when i'm with the baby). when the people go crazy, the crazies go pro.
so anyway, i said yes and i was just waiting ... waiting .... waiting ....
and then she said, "it's sunblock in a stick? hm."
this is how it starts. crazy plays dumb. crazy doubts that they actually make sunblock in a stick. then crazy tells me sunblock causes cancer and further concludes sunblock in a stick causes a new strand of instant cancer that eats little children from the inside out.
now's the time in the conversation when i'm tempted to take unfriendly to all new levels.
yes, lady. it's 2007. things come in sticks. gluesticks. glowsticks. lipstick. please just leave me alone or go ahead and spew whatever baby advice you think i can't live without so i can hurry up and ignore you.
then she asked what kind of sunblock it was.
it's poison. baby poison sunblock. actually, it's not sunblock at all. it's baby OIL and i aim to take this baby to the beach and fry him up in the sun til he's good and crispy, like a chicken.
i said, "i don't know." then i looked at it and said, "says here it's called california baby. 30 spf. paba free. not tested on animals. package made from recycled plastic. contains no alcohol. safe for kids over 6 months."
i thought that pretty much covered anything she was about to warn me against.
then i capped it off what a smirk. a "take your crazy and shove it," smirk.
to which she said, "oh. well, i should get some of that."
now either this woman really had never seen sunblock sticks & i was unecessarily unfriendly or she was for sure about to bathe me in her boundless knowledge of babies and sunscreen & i'm becoming a bona fide bitch.
i chose option b.
but it is true. at least sometimes (when it really counts, i like to say) i'm an official, original, certifiable, genuine, twenty-four carat b.i.t.c.h.
n

a new throne

it's purtty isn't it?
this video, by the way, reveals very little except that i've given up on plastic bibs because t2 just wants to gnaw on them and he likes applesauce. i thought the grandparents might like to see it.
it was time for a high chair - the little munchkin can wiggle his way out of the bimbo chair thing (please don't ask how i know this) and really needed a full on place to chow down. thanks to grandjane and poppy, we have this very cool piece of baby gear.
in fact, it might be the coolest thing in our house right now. isn't that sad?
so here's my dirty little secret - i've been feeding the baby all kinds of grub for about a month now, maybe longer. most docs and people say foods should only be introduced after 6 months and then very gradually. but there's something about me and rules - we just don't jive. and i really don't do gradual - it takes way too much patience.
all i needed was one laid back mom at the park to tell me she gave her daughter a lot of whatever she'd eat at 5 months and i was at the grocery store stocking up on bananas, green beans, peas - you name it.
don't get the wrong idea. i didn't just dump it all in a pile and let him have at it. i did at least start with greens like our doctor said and i only introduced one thing at a time, giving it a few days to make sure it sat ok.
eating is just so fun and i wanted him to enjoy it as much as we do. a picky, skimpy eater won't survive in our house.
so to make it as much of an adventure as possible, i just hand over the bowl and spoon with a little left on each and let him lick them until his heart's content.
it's a disasterous mess. last night i found a smear of sweet potatoes behind his ear as i was rocking him to sleep.
see? he likes food some much he finds places to hide it for later.
what a little smarty.
on another note, four people in the last week have approached t2 and i and asked us if we're nordic. i get sorta embarrassed because honestly i don't know. are we?

bathing beauty

i don't do bathtime that much anymore because in the divide-and-conquer mission that is bedtime, t1 dominates the strip down & soap up. however pops was working last night so that left just me and little 'ol t. i took about a million pictures, but this one is my fave. poke, poke, poke that belly.
here's the headline of the day: dead soldier to father kid with woman he never met. weird. i mean, i didn't even know sperm from a dead man worked. but now that i do ....
also, i'm getting a little confused. the 2008 elections are still a year and a half away, right? not this november - 9 whole months, the gestation period for a baby human, from now - but next? i'm already tired of hilary clinton and her 'let the conversation begin' who-ninny. right now i'm not voting for hills because she thinks people actually want to talk to her for 21 months.
anyway, she's not my fave but i gotta give her props for saying today that she "knows a thing or two about evil men" in response to a question about how she'd handle dictators. hahaha. hahaha. HAHAHAHAHA. hahahahahahahahahahahaha. poor chelsea.

don't buy cheap diapers

5 dollars for 60 some store brand diapers was just too tempting. but what i've saved in diaper costs i've spent in laundry detergent and water bills. my god, cheap diapers suck. every single time i change t2 he's had some kind of blow out or is swimming in pee. it's terrible. what's funny about it is that he doesn't mind - at all. the kid can be covered in poop and happy as a clam rolling around on the floor. kinda like our dog moose.
someone told me store brands were just as good. i can't remember who that was, but when i do i'm totally calling their bluff. sweet, soft pampers, take me away.
while i'm mythbusting, i'm going to just go ahead and say that the breast feeding class lady who told me that nursing is so much easier than formula feeding is a BIG FAT LIAR.
now that it's all over, i feel like calling her up and telling her what i think about her way too rosy outlook. maybe i'll do that today.
it so was not easy. in fact, it was border line pain in the ass. first, the anxiety about even being able to do it at all. then being able to do it, but not sure if the baby is actually getting enough. then knowing the baby is getting enough and doing so 8 to 10 times a day. then realizing that you can't go away for more than 3 hours without the baby or the god forsaken pump (which i later called my pimp) and that you're in it a-l-o-n-e. then all of the hidden charms, like special bras with confusing clasps and public stares (although not so much in LA, hooter capital of the world) and what to do when you forget a pump part or the batteries die or suddenly your chest is a faucet in the middle of target or your kid sleeps through the night but your boobs don't.
of course, i'd do it all again cause i like punishment. the benefits outweigh even the worst drawbacks. i just wish someone would have been straight up and told me it's pretty knarly and not all that beautiful, but that it won't last forever and it's the right thing to do if you're up to it.
instead i got a bunch of attachment parenting gribbibdly garb sprinkled with some guilt and was told how warm and fuzzy it'd make me feel. it did sometimes, especially the first few weeks.
but come on, people. how can having a little critter suck the life out of you really be all that wonderful for any great length of time? if i'd been thinking clearly - and by that i mean if my head hadn't been clouded with all the bs - i'd of come to terms with this much earlier than i did. i still would have done it. and i still would have honored the 6 month contract, i just would have been a bit more cheery about it.
there. i feel better. now if i could just find that lady's number ...

squeaky wheel gets the grease

i have a really loud kid.
really loud.
he realized he has a voice a couple of weeks ago and ever since then he's been practicing finding the highest high pitch he can muster and then squealing at the tippy top of his lungs for as long as he can stand it, which turns out is a pretty long time.
i keep reading that babies at this age babble, coo, razz (what the hell is razz?) and mix vowel and consonant sounds. and then i keep trying to get t2 to imitate me saying bbbbaaaa, ba, babbabaab, mamamamamama, dadadada in a low, mellow tone. but everytime i try that he goes, "AAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK" and then giggles at himself. seriously.
it's never when i expect it - like when we're swimming or dancing around or singing songs (well, sometimes when we're singing songs).
he'll be competely mellow, say in the grocery store, and then all of a sudden as i'm ordering shaved turkey breast he lets out this shreek. or we'll be in a coffee shop filled with serious looking people pecking away at their computers (not a SINGLE person in LA works in an office, i'm convinced) or reading quietly when RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK he goes. and then just when he has everyone's attetion, chuckle chuckle chuckle.
sometimes it's so loud and so unexpected it scares me.
most of the time people don't seem to mind. in fact, most people laugh and greet him or talk back to him which is exactly what he wants to happen. a couple of grouchy old fuddy duddies have glared, but in my book if you're going to be a cold-ass lump of coal your feelings don't count.
i'm not about to hush him up. if that's his voice, well then so be it.
let's be real - the boy gets props for figuring out which sound gets the most attention and then maximizing it for effect. he OWNS the squeal.
oh yeah, he's a tayloe alright.

ugh, health insurance

i don't have much to say except that we got a huge bill from our pediatrician today for the 1,000th time. and so for the 1,000th time i called our health insurance company to tell them that our doc is in fact contracted with them and that everything listed should be covered. and then for the the 1000th time they said, "oh, yes, that's right. ok, it's all pending and we'll straighten it out."
so then i had to call the pediatrician and tell them i called the health insurance people and get the jimmy on what we actually owe them in copays.
which left me wondering, if i'm doing all of this wtf are they doing?
the thing is, we have a great health insurance plan. and we're totally blessed in that it's 100 percent paid for by tayloe's employer and for the most part we've paid nothing, absolutely nothing, for all the medical expenses we've racked up recently.
on another note, i love the hat in this picture cause it's great on a bad hair day. but everytime i wear it i feel like slater from dazed and confused.
"Didja ever look at a dollar bill, man? There's some spooky shit goin' on there. And it's green too."

road trippers

horray, we're home. we left last thursday and hauled it across ca, nevada and into utah to go to the sundance film festival.
tayloe the dad and i are big on road trips - we've driven across the country together twice, spent our honeymoon on a wild, windy road trip to maine, took a vacation last summer and drove from the tippy top of washington state down hwy 1 (pch) to san francisco and the first thing we do when we're bored is take a drive. we're roamers. it's what we do.
so at 6 months we figured it was time to get t2 on board and show him what it's all about. and it was great - we spent a night in vegas, took him to the shark reef at mandalay bay, hauled him through mountain desert, put his little feet in the utah snow and landed in park city friday evening.
saturday we did sundance, sunday we did a little more sundance and some football, went swimming and watched it snow.
everything was going great.
until it stopped going great. sometime around 3 a.m. monday morning tayloe the dad and i both woke up with the barfs.
oh. god.
isn't that the weirdest thing? for both of us to get sick at the exact same time? and for the baby to be completely, totally and absolutely fine?
here's where it gets hairy. as t1 and i burned a trail from the bed to the bathroom, t2 was his normal cheery angel face self. laughing, rolling around, squealing his little heart out.
i could hardly stand to look at his bottle of milk, much less deal with spit up and diapers. but i mean, what do you do?
um, you call your mom. wait. i AM the mom.
oh, hells.
sometime later in the afternoon when things really weren't getting much better, not much better at all, all we could think of was that if it kept up we were going to die in a hotel room in midway, utah, and t2 would be left to the mormons and grow up to have five wives.
with that we decided to find a babysitter (which isn't that easy to do in the middle of nowhere utah) and go to the er. we're a team, tayloe and me, and a good team always figures out how to beat the beast. (unless you're tom brady's team in which case the beast beats you with an interception in the last 10 seconds of the game. ouch).
thank god i married a man who will absolutely not give up until he gets what he wants and also thank god for kind people. after a short "discussion" with t1, the hotel manager found us a sitter, called us a driver and took both tayloe and i to the hospital.
they took us right in. we had the nicest nurse and doctor in the world pump us up with fluids and anti-nausea meds, let us take a nap and sent us back recharged and feeling a little better.
DIE. EVIL. FLU.
we managed to get some sleep and the next morning made it out of utah alive.
there is a god because t2 hasn't gotten it (yet. pray, pray, pray) and was a golden, sweet darling child the entire 12-hour car drive. he just laughed and played and sang camp songs with us all the way home sweet home.