Christmastime summarized

Since I've been so incompetent at keeping up with things here, I've decided to over a brief overview of our December rather than the kind detailed blow-by-blow that I might have managed had I kept up with things.

So, with that said, here's December:

Decorating-wise we stuck to the same ol' minimalist approach we've had for years - tiny black, sparkly table tree decorated with a few baubles and some pretty lights, a smattering of ornaments nearby and a few other strings of Christmas lights flung around randomly. The Boys grabby hands and propensity to climb anything and everything lead us to believe we'd be better off without an actual tree just yet. We'll save that for next year, maybe the year after.

Anyhoo, we did get out to a tree farm to get a tree with Grandpa, Dada and The Boy's uncle. Here's a picture of us in front of the tree we all picked out.

Between then and the big day there was shopping, parties, baking and all of the usual hubbub associated with the holidays.

Christmas eve was spent at home, just the three of us(four if you count the kitty). We ate lasagna and opened a present before bedtime.

Christmas morning I slipped downstairs before the boys to pull out the Duplo blocks Santa brought. The Boy came down and toddled over to me, oblivious to the fact that he had new toys and playing with me like we'd always had the blocks.

After breakfast and opening the presents we went to Grandmas house. Last Christmas was spent at my dad's, so Mom was pretty darn excited to have The Boy with her this year. We opened more presents, The Boy ran around in circles, we ate roast beef, green beans and stuffing whilst breaking open the English holiday classic crackers and wearing the crown. Well, I wore the crown, The Boy was suspicious.

From there we made a brief stop at home before heading to Grandpa's house for more presents. We didn't stay long as it had been a long day and we were all tired.

We came home, gave The Boy a bath and put his sweet self to sleep.

All in all an excellent Christmas.

The End of An Era

I stopped breastfeeding The Boy today. We officially stopped last night at bed time, but sneaked in one last session this morning. I cried both last night and this morning, The Boy has been crying on and off this afternoon as he fights sleepiness and asks for "Bop," but we haven't given in. The Hubs not working has helped distract The Boy with play and piggyback rides, but I'm still proud of myself for not giving into sad little sleepy pleas and tugs on my shirt.

To be fair, this is a medically imposed weaning. I started MS treatment this morning - tentative yay - and, I guess, it's time for The Boy to stop depending so much on the boob for sleep and comfort. And it's hard to believe that something I went into with the best of intentions but an utter lack of planning has lasted so long. I mean, a year and a half ago, right before my baby was born, I thought that I'd give nursing a try and, if it didn't work out, happily turn to formula. I assumed that, were we successful, that I'd nurse him for 6 months... at the outside. I never, ever imagined we'd make it this long. And I never thought I would be so sad to give it up.

I'm sure I will be ruminating on this milestone for some time, but I thought I needed to mark today, on today.

And so, with 17 months and 1(2) day of breast feeding behind us I offer a hearty whole milk toast to my little buddy, my little boobie monster, my little love. I'm so proud of us! Now let's work o getting you to sleep without the boob!

My little intellectual

The past week's rain has meant that we've been doing a lot of reading lately, but today was an exceptionally literary one.

We did some picture/letter flash cards and then read a book called "Make Van Gogh's Bed" The Boy then set about riding his bike and running around as best he could.

After lunch and his first nap we then looked at some French flashcards, "J'aime les fruits!" and read "Tip Tip, Dig Dig." Then we read it again. Then I let him practice reading it himself while I read some of my own book.

Then he took it back to the shelf and demanded another book, so I grabbed "Monkey Puzzle," sat on our comfiest chair, snuggled up to The Boy and read the already well-loved book... twice, before giving it to The Boy to examine for a while.

Then it was time for "The Gruffalo." Again, I read it twice!

My kid was insatiable! I put the books away and he cried, mostly because he needed another nap, but also because he wanted to continue my way through his library/learning apparatus.

One can only hope that his love of (me) reading bodes well for the future. In the meantime, I plan to drink-in The Boy and mine's cuddly readings and try to be more patient, even if it means reading "The Gruffalo," "Tip Tip, Dig Dig," "Monkey Puzzle," or whatever else as many times as The Boy lets me.

It's about freaking time

I'll admit to being lazy and busy and slightly depressed, hence the woefully long time it's been since I've posted. There is no point to this post except to just get to posting. To get over the impossibleness of it and get back into documenting life with my boys.

So with that, here is some holiday cuetness, taken from a grocery shopping trip earlier in the season.

Here is The Boy showing the world that he's still a proud rear-facer in his car seat(actually he's probably just excited to be getting out of said car seat).

And here is one taken a few minutes later.

What a bargain for so much cuteness ;)

Yesterday was one of those days

In lieu of writing to catch up on the last month or so, I will instead focus on yesterday.

Yesterday was the kind of day that even the most even-tempered, and able-bodied, mom's find exhausting, infuriating and leaving them in need of a stiff drink.

It started out normal enough. The Boy woke up smiling and happy, eager to be bundled up to head out for our daily meeting at the cafe with Grandpa. The Boy eats toast then goes on a long walk with Grandpa, leaving me to drink my coffee, text and behave like a college student. Or high school student. Whatever.

Anyway, we returned home, The Boy napped and then... And then.

Mid-afternoon brought about something that can only be described as a toddler hurricane, or early-onset Terrible Twos. It was horrific. Moving our heavy dining room chairs everywhere so he could use them as ladders to the table, television and china cabinet. Forcing his way into the cupboard with all the wires and cables for our various electronics and, just as I'd stop him from doing that, running over to pull the cushions off the sofa and access the cable for my laptop – yes, the outlet is covered and childproofed, but I have yet to learn how to childproof the wire and laptop itself.

It all would have been enough to drive me absolutely batty were it not for the fact that, as I sat on the floor hunched over and broken, The Boy came up to me and said, “hi.” And then he kissed me. Whether it was because he saw me sad or he was learning the fine art of using his cuteness to manipulate me, I don't care!

So now I see the my kid, despite all of his exhausting toddlerishness and bad behavior, has learned that kisses make everything better.

Technology is not my friend

I'm posting this from Hubs' laptop as my laptop can only be used on rare occasions - the reason for this requires a long, stupid explanation involving lameness of my laptop and ingenuity/misbehavior of my son.

Unfortunately Hubs' love of Linux make uploading pictures from his laptop nearly impossible, and the requirements of some strange new updates to my laptop so that I can easily download pics from my camera to MY laptop require technical ability beyond my meagre skills.

So, to sumarize; Hub's laptop has pictures downloaded from my camera but I can't upload them to this stupid blog, and my laptop allows me to upload pics but I can't download pics from my camera because I'm too stupid to figure out how to get the updates that will allow for me to perform said downloads.

FML.

I'm not vain, I'm fat!

It's time to get back to Foodie Fridays. The cause of this realization was the gargantuan number of photos taken of myself during a recent visit by my in-laws, and the sad realization that I almost look more pregnant than I did when I was pregnant.

Seriously. My belly is huge. My arms are bigger than they used to be and my legs are still reasonably small, but my mid drift... it's shameful. And embarrassing.

Sadly, I can do very little exercise because of my MS. I really, really need to get back to riding the stationary bike every now and again. No excuses, but timing's an issue with The Boy. And speaking of The Boy, I tried to do some crunches today but he laid on me. Every time I tried!!!

So, in lieu of being an exercise superstar I need to try yet again to do better with my eating. A very tricky endeavour with the Holidays coming up. Soooo... maybe I can find some way to find the time to get my crippled ass onto the bike for some spinning and onto the floor for some crunches, stretches and a bit of yoga. Maybe if wake up earlier? Maybe. We'll see.

On Judginess

Yesterday was my birthday and it was fabulous! Hubs and The Boy got me some awesome pressies, I had lunch with a friend and went on a mini-shopping spree and it was even vaguely Autumnal in So Cal.

All good things.

Then the family and I went out for some Mexican food for my birthday dinner. Now, The Boy has been cutting his canines and his usually cheerful demeanour has been soured a bit, especially in the evening.

He made it through dinner well, but started getting antsy after Hubs had ordered me a birthday fried ice cream. So Hubs searched the diaper bag for The Boy's shoes so he could go for a walk(we don't leave his shoes on since he either eats them or removes them, or both). He couldn't find them so I stepped up inhaling my ice cream, but The Boy was relentless, so Hubs took The Boy out for a walk - barefoot. We were inside and Hubs was holding The Boy's hand, and keeping a keen eye on the floor lest The Boy encounter anything sharp or unsavoury that he shouldn't step on.

So, I finished my dessert and asked for the bill within a few minutes and was going to pay when this old woman - the grandmother of a family sitting nearby -said venomously, "I can't believe those people are letting that baby walk around barefoot."

Really? Really lady? I recognise it wasn't ideal, but he was supervised in a clean, carpeted place. Would you rather he had ruined the last of your dinner by screaming? Would it be better if Hubs had taken him to the cold, dark parking lot to scream while I got the bill and paid? Are you really so confident in your own parenting skills that you'd feel comfortable telling your own daughter she was wrong for giving me an embarrassed glance after your snarky scolding of me - a stranger, who's birthday dinner you just ruined?

Screw you lady, for putting a crappy ending to a perfect birthday!

Signed, Someone who is far too concerned about the opinions of others

Please forgive me while I waste some time on the pity pot

We went to a first birthday party yesterday, The Boy, Hubs and I.

It was lovely. It was in a train museum in a park, my friend and her husband did a fantastic job getting everything ready for their little boy and my little boy had an awesome time running around and playing in the dirt.

All of my friend's friends were sweet and I got to see some folks I haven't seen in years.

It should have been a perfect day out, were it not for the fact that I was the creepy chick who sat glued to a park bench instead of the fabulously witty and social girl I'd like to be.

Everybody loved The Boy but seemed slightly bemused when they found out he belonged to me.

I took my scooter because I was worried about how far into the park the party might be, and some of the older kids(belonging to an old friend) asked 1st) if I could walk and 2nd) if they could ride my scooter. They were polite about it, and I could console myself with the thought that I didn't actually need the stupid thing, but I was still mortified.

Both situations - the isolation on the park bench and examination of my gimpy chariot - could have been avoided if I'd stayed in my scooter and moved about like a social butterfly in it, but I'm stubborn and have yet to come to terms with the fact that, on a hot day like yesterday, I'm usually incapable of comfortably standing around whilst having a chat.

So, crappity crap! It's all my fault! I'm imperfect, but I'm working on it. If I can't be the fabulously witty girl flitting about on foot, then I'll be the fabulously witty girl flitting about on wheels.

Foodie Friday

Except for a mis-step at a BBQ last weekend(I had half a hot dog), I have steadfastly adhered to the no red meat portion of my diet.

The no dairy portion, not so much. I've been good about cutting out most milk, but the cheese and yogurt are proving harder to give up.

And then there's my newest culinary adventure; I made rice pudding for the first time this week. It was done as a pumpkin delivery system, really, and it didn't turn out half bad.

It was adapted from a Giada De Laurentiis recipe, and here it is:

Pumpkin Rice Pudding

2/3 cup of Arborio rice
4 cups of milk
1/2 cup of sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla
1/2 a cup of unsweetened pumpkin puree
1 teaspoon of pumpkin pie spice

Bring rice, milk and vanilla to a gentle boil then turn heat down to low.
Cook for 45 minutes.
Add pumpkin and pumpkin pie spice.
Serve to hungry toddler who had previously turned his nose up at sweets, but console yourself by reminding yourself that pumpkin is a superfood.

Walkie Wednesday

I may be having a crappy walking week, but damn my kid is gorgeous!



The Boy has been particularly ornery this week, or maybe it's just him becoming more of a boy, but it has left me exhausted. I've had to move furniture to keep him from climbing it, move all of my essentials(lip salve, cell phone, tissues) out of reach and I've had to begin to sort out yet another move of my poor books up the bookshelf - and they've already been moved as high as the back of the 3rd shelf!

My poor books.

The end result of all this moving and chasing is that Walkie Wednesday isn't so walkie. Oh well. My boy may be a daredevil, but at least he's a super cute daredevil!

Is it too early...

To think about The Boy's schooling?

I am happy to admit that I'm a big proponent of educational activities. I got The Boy a DVD of some strange, French teaching panda when he was about 5 months old. I've been playing him French nursery rhymes and showing him flashcards in French and English for about 6 months. I'm a big fan of alphabet blocks and toys with letter buttons.

I'm a little less happy to admit that I will, most likely, be a bit of a helicopter parent. I'll try to be cool about The Boy going out into the great big world, being a regular kid and learning from his own mistakes, but I can already tell I'm going to be more involved than he might like. I never had to deal with my parents pushing me into sports(I tried almost everything, but proved to be a spectacularly bad athlete) or attempting to assert themselves too forcefully into my academic career(the PTA was anathema to them and the 80's wasn't exactly the heyday of parental involvement).

The Boy won't be so lucky. I've been spending an embarrassing amount of time looking at websites that rate schools; some that rate just high schools and some that rate entire school districts. Some that list property values in the school district. Some that rate private schools.

It's overwhelming. Part of me wishes my nomadic, anti-hipster family was already well-established somewhere so where The Boy was to be schooled was already a faite accompli, but we're still as rudderless as we were in 1999. That means where we go is wide open, yet entirely based on some weird school calculus that is way above my head.

Bah!

(And my younger self is mortified right now)

Foodie Friday

The MS diet thing is still not going well. For a number of reasons.

1. I have gorgonzola in the fridge that I've been using (sparingly) with my lunch because no one else will eat it.

2. We ran out of Almond Milk yesterday morning so I was forced to use The Boy's whole milk in my cereal.

3. It's really hard to cook for Hubs and The Boy and not use any fat, so I've still been using olive oil.

Despite those setbacks, I have been adhering to the revised MS diet I charged myself with following last week - I haven't had any red meat. No burgers or bacon or steaks. So that's progress.

So, for next week, I'll try to do a better job at avoiding the dairy and then I can really start to say I'm giving this MS diet thing a real chance.

Oh, and in related news, I'm going to try to get in a wee bit of exercise.

Take that, spare tire!

Walkie Wednesday

I love Autumn! Even though it’s still 100+ degrees here(stupid Southern California heat wave!), you can still tell that Fall is on it’s way. The days are getting shorter, kids are back in school and the shops are hawking Halloween wares.

30 years ago this time of year would have been heralded with a walk to the bus stop with my mom and an inexpert covering of my textbooks in old grocery bags. 20 years ago I would have improved my textbook covering, ditched Mom and walked to school myself – high hair mini skirt firmly in place as I walked through fallen leaves in new wing-tips.

I spent the Autumns of the mid-late 90s walking around campuses with half my weight in books strapped to my back, save for 1997 – when I spent a drunken Fall in Brussels. Yeah, cobble stones and warm Belgian waffles make for a fine Fall.

The noughties were spent in the much more Fall-friendly climes of London and Vancouver. London was all about bundling up in a pea-coat and sitting in a warm pub; Vancouver was all fire-colored leaves and hot coffee. Well, everywhere is hot coffee for me, but it’s different in Fall.

I was still sort of able to go on walks when we moved to London – long, aimless walks past parks and Victorian homes. My favorite Fall memory of London was starting graduate school, wandering through Bloomsbury in the brisk Fall air. By the time we got to Vancouver my walks were shorter, but no less reverential to the weather gods who could produce a cool, clear day with a gentle breeze to blow orange leaves from the trees.

Now that The Boy is more aware of his surroundings I’m wondering how he’ll respond to Fall. Will he love pumpkin-flavored things as much as me? Will he appreciate jumping into piles of fallen leaves? Will he resent being forced to wear the Yoda costume I got for him for Halloween?

Being a Mom With MS

Last week's bout of stomach flu made me realize many things; that Hubs does get sick sometimes; that I can, with great difficulty, look after The Boy even when suffering from a nasty MS relapse(fever is the devil for folks with MS); that the awesomeness of In N Out is not so awesome as to be able to withstand the stomach flu.

Mostly it made me realize, or come to terms with - I'd long ago realized - that no matter how hard I try or how much I wish, I am not like other mothers nor will I ever be. I am a doting, motivated devoted mom, but I am sick. Chronically sick, and my heart absolutely breaks thinking about it.

I will never get to walk through the park hand in hand with my son, teach him how to ride a bike or do any of the other things I mentioned in this post and that sucks more than anything else has ever sucked! Ever!!!

I just really felt like getting that out there. So now I can move on from debating the merits of getting a maid or a "mother's helper"(I decided against them) or using a harness for walks if I'm in my scooter(I got one, but haven't used it yet as he's still relatively fond of his stroller), to figuring out the ideal time to get an adapted van.

Oh well, I guess I'd be looking at mini vans in a few years anyway.

Foodie Friday

We were terribly sick this week, first The Boy, then Hubs, then me, so I’ve been seriously slack in keeping up with the blogging. We all had a stomach bug that the wee’un picked up from somewhere, presumably by chewing on something he shouldn’t have.

Needless to say my big plans for eating little fat have taken a serious nose dive. Our Friday night at the fair was a nutritional disaster. The days that have passed since then haven’t been particularly healthy either. I tried making some healthy turkey meatballs but they were so dry and terrifying that I have yet to try them(The Boy has enjoyed a few though). I had some In N Out on Wednesday, but promptly threw it all up. I went to bed shortly after.

The waste of a perfectly good burger, fries and milkshake notwithstanding, my main lesson of the day was that I will never get a day off. Ever! Well, at least not for the next 18 years or so.

As bad as I felt, The Boy still needed to be fed, changed, red to and played with. His own improving condition neither knew of nor cared that I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. The bug alone made me feel like a gigantic pile of poo, but the fever the bug brought meant that I moved at the speed approximating that of a glacier, that my limbs felt as though they were tethered to lead bricks.

We got through it, but only just. But as horrible as that sounds, I’m proud of us. I was incredibly sick, knocked on my butt by both the stomach flu and MS but we managed okay. In fact we managed better than okay! I never broke down in tears and The Boy seemed quite happy so, it was actually a success really. Go team!

In Search of Cloth Trainers

Though I bought my first Bum Genius 3.0 at a fancy schmancy boutique in my hometown and filled out the rest of my early stash of Bum Genius 3.0s from diapers.com, the place where I learned the most about cloth diapering was a website called jilliansdrawers.com – the online arm of a shop in Ithaca, New York. (Also a place made famous by THIS post at Young House Love – I’m not one to normally give a shout-out to the popular kids, but I thought it was cool that they actually visited the shop).

It was from Jillian’s Drawers that I got almost all of my wipes(Imse Vimse), my Kissaluvs dipes and my Thirsties covers. Love them!

At first I was looking at them again when I started researching cloth trainers, but then I discovered a local store has cloth trainers as well. The bad news is that the local store doesn’t have the cloth trainers that seem to be the most highly recommended – Imse Vimse brand.



They do have Little Beetles though



So what should I do? Just order some Imse Vimse from Jillian’s Drawers? Get a few of the Imse Vimse dipes from Jillian’s Drawers and a few of the super cute Little Beetles(a brand that is front and center at both Jillian’s Drawers and my local store) to see how they work and to support local business? Should I see if his cloth diapers hold out until he’s old enough to slip effortlessly into using big boy underwear? Am I over thinking this?

What to do? What to do? Good thing The Boy, despite making huge developmental leaps as of late, is nowhere near ready for training pants.

First Trip to the County Fair

We went to the fair this weekend. Hubs was fairly dubious about the whole thing, but was curious to see if The Boy would be more aware of the animals than he was when we went to the zoo a few months ago.

He was! And our trip to the fair was a huge success. He snorted at the pigs, baaa'd at the sheep and goats and mmmmm'd at the cows. And there I was thinking the animals from his Little People farm didn't resemble the actual animals enough to teach him anything meaningful.

Anyway, here is The Boy taking in some of the fine culinary offerings at the fair.


And looking at some cows


And taking a break with Mama in front of a ferris wheel.


It was a good time.

And Some Pics of Cuteness

Just 'cuz.

Coming back from a lunchtime walk with Dad



Showing off my teeth



With Mama at the zoo

Foodie Friday

My week, or half-week as it were since I started on Wednesday, of the MS-friendly Swank diet didn’t go exceptionally well, but it went better than expected considering my love for hamburgers and all things dairy.

Wednesday went pretty well – made the switch to almond milk for my tea and cereal and had broth and udon noodles for lunch. Met some friends for dinner and even passed up some of my favorite fried chicken and mashed potatoes for some angel hair pasta with tomatoes.

My one slip-up – and it was a biggie – was having dessert. Figuring I’d been so doing so well the rest of the day, I indulged in a very chocolatey and very creamy cake.

Thursday was about the same; I did well for breakfast and lunch, but then – having to use the ground beef we’d bought before I decided to eat MS-friendly – I made and ate a Shepherd’s Pie.

Onto today. I’ve been good so far, but am hoping to get The Boy to the County Fair, so I’ll probably be eating a corn dog for dinner and deep fried Twinkie for dessert.

Oh well, it’s progress. And I can shoot for having a few all good days next week.
But in the meantime, in honor of the approach of my favorite season, here is my favorite Autumnal food.

Bourbon Pumpkin Cheesecake


Have been baking it with my mom since high school. Originally from Gourmet magazine, now to be found on epicurious.com.

Hope it's a wonderful weekend.

The Best Thing Ever

My sweet boy

Listening to the sweet baby sounds he makes while sleeping, then listening to him talk to himself, or maybe to us, when he wakes up.

Seeing his eyes light up when he plays.

Seeing his eyes light up when his dad is done working, then running over to give his dad a hug.

Dancing and giggling to any and all songs – even the ones his tone-deaf mama sings to him.

Watching how excited he gets when I go anywhere near the fruit bowl, and saying “nananana” to let me know he’d like a banana.

Baby smell, even though he’s a toddler now.

Super soft baby hair.

Saying “Mama” and reaching for me.

Being so transparent when he’s tired, rubbing his eyes and sticking out his lower lip.

Letting me give him kisses even when he would rather play.

Touching my face and smiling when I nurse him.

My Boy is too wonderful for me to be able to list all the things that make him the best thing ever, but this is a start.

Walkie Wednesday

Today is Walkie Wednesday, but I thought I’d also do a Boy word-check today.

Just shy of 14 months, my clever little love now says mama, dada, nana(banana), haaa(hi), daaaaa(bye), uhf(woof), baa(for what goats and sheep say), snort(for what picg say), ooh(for what monkeys say) and he can sign “eat.”

That’s nearly 10 words! Clever little lad.

Anyhoo, someday I’d like to take The Boy for a walk along the Seine, but we have to get to Paris first. In the meantime lunchtime walks with Hubs by our house and walks near the café with Grandpa will do quite nicely.

But when we do get to Paris, I think I’d like to start out by introducing him to Notre Dame, then by stopping off at Shakespeare and Co to get a book or two. We’d then round the corner and get a coffee(hot chocolate for he boy) at the café on Place St. Michel just like I did all those years ago, when I was so poor that I’d nurse a cappuccino for hours and write in my journal, because that’s all I could afford to do.

After pushing The Boy’s boredom threshold, we’d then continue traversing the quay along the Seine, me in my scooter and my boys walking beside me – rolling their eyes at my nostalgic rambling. We’d see the Louvre and Toilleries across the river and walk past Les Invalides and the Musee d’Orsay, before finally rounding a corner and being at the base of the Eiffel Tower.



Awesome!

Attempt Number 2

Here is The Boy taking a walk with Hubs:



And here is some cuteness, just for the heck of it:

A little cuteness

I'm testing my ability to upload pics to my blog, so I thought I'd start with this. None of the promised walking, but it sure is cute.


And I failed. Will keep trying, but have learned my lesson about posting things before previewing them.

Thinking about food

This post at The Heir To Blair reminded me of my own food issues.

What little weight I gained during pregnancy fell off quite quickly, but then eating to make Boy food and far too much inactivity means that I've been gaining again; not weight so much as fat. I still weigh less than I did before I got pregnant, but my once tiny waist as become an unsightly spare tire.

Boo.

In addition to that, I've been contemplating starting a more MS friendly diet. Sadly, the MS diet requires one to cut out fat(all fat, not just butter, cheese and ice cream, but olive oil too!), red meat, legumes and pretty much everything good and tasty in the world.

So therein lies my trepidation. I'm sure following a MS diet would help with my spare tire, it might even help relieve some of my symptoms, but is that all really worth it if it means I have to give up all of my favorite foods?

What to do? What to do?

Walkie Wednesday

Let me preface this by saying that I swore up and down that The Boy would be taking his first steps by 10 months.

Though he wasn’t actually crawling, preferring to belly flop to get from Point A to Point B, he started cruising along furniture and pushing around his wagon when he was just over 8 months. So I kept saying, “mark my words, he’ll be walking within a few weeks.”

I was soon saying that he’d be walking by 12 months. Yup, he’d be ambulatory by his first birthday. And he did me proud be taking his first independent steps on Independence Day. Hooray!

But then he retreated back to the world of crawling, actual crawling(as opposed to belly flopping), but crawling nonetheless.

What a relief it was for my back when, seemingly out of nowhere, The Boy decided to start walking like it’s his job a week after his birthday! That was a month ago, and now that he’s walked on the beach and has a pair of walking shoes I gotta say I miss the cuteness of the crawl.

Ps. I’ve been trying to get my camera to upload some recent piccies and videos of walking cuteness, but am not having any luck. Hopefully Hubs can help me sort it out after work,

First Trip to the Beach: A Short Picture Story

It was a hot one, a real hot one, but we managed to get out and enjoy ourselves over the long weekend.

On Saturday we visited some friends at the beach, giving The Boy his first taste of sand and surf. I wasn't really sure what to expect, and was nervous about having to stay behind at a nearby cafe(stupid MS), but it was important that The Boy have his first visit to the ocean and to let the sand tickle his toes. He is, after all, a Californian.

Here he is with his dad as they approach the beach. It doesn't look so bad from afar.



My best friend, great water and beach lover that he is, took him from Hubs to give The Boy his salty baptism. It didn't go so well.


Unable to be convinced to take a dip, The Boy returned to Hubs and the enjoyed a nice walk in the sand.


After that my boys returned to me happy, slightly sandy and covered in sunscreen(I can be a bit heavy handed with the stuff). I'm so proud of my brave boy!

Some things a mother should never take for granted(but often does)

Going on a morning walk and pointing out the birds, flowers and trees.

Taking your baby to the beach for the first time, holding your baby’s hand as they walk in the sand, wading into the surf and dipping your baby’s toes in the water.

Strolling around the mall and giving your child their first taste of frozen yogurt.

Visiting the zoo and holding your child as they get their first eyeful of monkey.

Going to a museum and showing off your favorite works of art.

Dancing to your favorite 80’s tune with your baby in your arms, because it’s never to early to teach them to love their inner dork.

Visiting a park, laying in the grass and enjoying time with just the two of you. Cuddling in the sunshine the way that you can only do when they’re small.

Hopefully you'll get to do at least one of these things over the long weekend. Enjoy it!

Nigella and Martha Need Not Worry

I am so not a domestic diva.

My best friend brought his girlfriend over for dinner last night. I would have loved to smarten up the place for her visit, but we need to vacuum, there's a pile of mail on the stairs and our cat has decided she likes peeing near her litter box and not in it, meaning the whole upstairs stinks of cat pee. Wouldn't have been the end of the world had my BFF's girl not followed The Boy whilst he demonstrated his stair-climbing talents.

The bright side was that I prepared an awesome meal of chicken pot pie, broccoli salad and chocolate truffle pie. All super yummy Southern food full of creamy goodness. Sounds good, right?

Well, after dinner I learned that she's lactose intolerant. Poor girl.

Thanks for giving me a heads up, BF!

Walkie Wednesday

I’ve decided pay weekly homage to my old favorite pastime: walking. Sounds silly and facile, but I used to luuurrrve walking back in the day. And now, though I may not be so good at the walking anymore(but I can still walk, for those of you that are wondering), it’s definitely become one of The Boy’s favorite things to do.

Yup, walking’s a big deal in our household, so welcome to Walkie Wednesday.

I’m currently in the throes of desperately wanting to plan The Boy’s first trip to Europe, so I’ll begin with a bit of nostalgia by writing about walking in Europe; Prague, to be specific.

A million years ago, when Prague was still part of Czechoslovakia and not part of the Czech Republic, long before Hubs and The Boy were even a glimmer in my eye, I packed a flimsy backpack and took my teenage self to Prague.

This particular walk started in Old Town Square, the gorgeous geographical center of Prague. It was July so it was warm, and I left Old Town Square after dinner and set out on Karlova Street, which extends in a west-ish squiggle from the Square.

The cobblestones were fairly uneven, making for many spills and tumbles when I walked the route a few years later between my job – at a bar – and my best friend’s job – also at a bar. But even in my sober state that last night of my first trip, the cobbles were still a tricky endeavor.

The sun was setting as I wound my way down Karlova Street, filled even then with trinket vendors and tourist wares housed in Baroque buildings. It was awesome and romantic and everything my suburban hometown was not.

And then I crossed Smetanovo Street and ended up on Charles Bridge. Looming ahead of me, atop the big hill in Malastrana(Lesser Town), was Prague Castle, with St. Vitus Cathedral hugging it tightly. The whole thing was lit up perfectly, like the icing on an immaculate cupcake.

I’m not fudging the truth at all by saying that it brought tears to my eyes, or that my life was completely altered by that walk and THAT view.

Hubs has visited Prague with me a few times and remains moderately impressed, but I cannot wait to take The Boy! By the time we take him I’m sure he’ll have grown tired of my stories about backpacking around Europe and living all over the place, but I will still be super excited to show him, in person, some of the life I lived before he and his dad came into my life, and before MS got the better of my walking ability.

As awesome as our day-to-day life may be, I can’t believe how much we have to look forward to. And that walk from Old Town Square to Charles Bridge is at the top of the list.

(Once I get a scanner I'll upload some pics of me and That View

Playdate-tastic!

We don’t get out that much and are rarely around other kids, save for The Boy’s weekly Gymboree class, but this weekend we had a play date with a nineteen month old.

It went much better than expected. They played outside and The Boy got dirtier than he’s been since the poop-in-his-nose incident at birth. He ate a muffin, fell into a bush and had his first argument over sharing a toy car.

It did my heart an enormous amount of good to know that he can communicate with other kids, that our MS-related semi-seclusion doesn’t mean that he can’t keep up with day care-raised social butterflies when he does get to spend time with other kids. The Boy didn’t freak out and come running to me or to Hubs when the older kid bounded into our house and grabbed all of his toys. I’m so glad that he held his own against an older kid whose favorite word appears to be “mine!”

Yup, yesterday was everything I imagined it should be. Lots of giggles and squeals, lots of dirt and destruction, and tears of exhaustion followed by a nice, long nap at the end of it all.

My Word On Cloth Diapering

We’ve been cloth diapering since The Boy was a few weeks old. 13 months and counting and we’re still going strong. Now, as I begin my research into cloth/eco friendly training pants, I realize that cloth diapering and using cloth wipes is second nature. That wasn’t always the case.

So, in honor of more than a year of cloth diapering experience, here’s a synopsis of my year raising a fluffy-butted baby.

I was a bit biased toward BumGenius 3.0’s from the get-go. I saw them in some schmancy boutique and bought one to bring home to Hubs to see what he thought. He shrugged and said they seemed fine, so I collected a total of fifteen Easter egg colored diapers before The Boy was even born.

The thing I liked about them was they resembled, at least to my inexperienced eye, a disposable diaper. I liked the idea of the only extra step being to stuff them with inserts.

Even though The Boy was big enough to wear them from birth, they looked so incredibly huge on him that I just couldn’t bring myself to break in the BG’s. After asking around, I learned that they’re meant to look like comedy pants so, at 3-4 weeks, we made the leap to cloth diapering and haven’t looked back.

The next step on our path to hippy-dom was acquisition of cloth wipes. If you’re handy with scissors and have some old shirts, you're good to go. I, however, splurged on approximately 30 tiny pieces of overpriced flannel.

At first I googled a wipe solution with which to clean The Boy’s precious bum – a bottle full of water with a few drops of baby shampoo and tea tree oil – but we quickly realized that water is all that is needed. Before removing a dirty diaper I layer a few wipes beside The Boy, squirt enough water on them to soak through the first and dampen the others. Hubs prefers to remove the diaper and, um, see what he's working with so he knows how many wipes to dampen. Either system works fine.

Butt cleaning and diapering solutions in place, I started experimenting with different brands of cloth diapers.

The first was GroBaby because of the cost. The near-constant peeing and pooping of a newborn meant that we had to use the washer and dryer daily. Wanting to have enough diapers to allow us line-drying time, I looked to GroBaby’s multi-use shell and snapable inserts as a more economical alternative to the BG’s.

Big mistake.

Maybe my kid was just born with the bladder of a camel, but he always soaked the GroBabies. So much so that I think we were only able to re-use the outer shell like every other week.

Lesson learned.

The next non-BG diaper got was a Happy Heini’s one, because it had a supercute cow pattern on it. It’s still going strong, but it’s the only HH brand that I ever bought.



Then there were the two FuzziBunz diapers. I got them because I heard raves about the snaps(as opposed to the Velcro on the BG’s), but I found the snaps tricky to do up quickly on a wiggly baby and the back never quite went up high enough, always leaving a bit of baby butt crack exposed.

The final diapers we settled on, and were actually quite happy with, were Thirsties shells with either Kissaluvs or Thirsties cloth diaper on the inside. They’re a bit more prone to leakage than the BG’s, but are still pretty absorbent and have grown really well with my quickly growing boy.

Had I known 14 months ago what I know now, I would have bought 20 BumGenius 3.0's, 10 Kissaluv's cloth diapers, 3 Thirsties covers, 40 flannel wipes, 2 wet bags and called it a day. We have something approximating that now and it works well for us.

We cheat and use disposable diapers when we're out and about, and always have disposable wipes around in case of emergency. That said, we're almost exclusively Earth-friendly, carbon-neutral, crunchy, or what-have-you and it's been remarkably painless. And it will save us cash in the long run!

I'd seriously recommend cloth diapering to new parent.

Now onto my search for potty-training dipes!

My Happy Life

::Warning! The following post may come off as achingly smug to working mamas. That is genuinely not my intention::

I was suffering from a bit of insomnia last night. While tossing, turning and trying to clear my head of all the junk it accumulated during the day(stupid internets), I got to thinking about the very best truism of my life; I am a stay at home mom and I get to spend almost all of my time with my little boy.

Simple, yes. Obvious, most definitely. But how lucky am I?

What an absolute luxury to be here for every milestone, smile and giggle. What an honor to get to teach him things, prepare all his food and endure the mess it makes when feeding him or letting him feed himself.

When I was younger I never imagined I’d be a housewife or SAHM. I thought I had too much to do. Nothing concrete exactly, just stuff. Important stuff.
But now I’m shaming my younger self by admitting that there is nothing I will ever do that is as important as making sure The Boy grows up to be a good man.

So, as The Boy naps, I am thanking my lucky stars to be fortunate enough to be his mom and, more than that, to be his primary caregiver. We are a non-stop, 24-7 Mom and Boy team and, as tired and frustrated as I may get at times, I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Now, if only he’d wake up so I could give him some of that tuna salad I slaved over.

Last Night's Dinner

Adapted from Guy Fieri's Cajun Chicken Alfredo

I adapted it to make it slightly healthier(the original recipe called for 3 cups of cream!!!), and to add some veggies for The Boy. I also had to omit parmessan because Hubs hates cheese.

It's meant to be the sauce for a pasta dish, but in a fit of migraine-induced derangement I made mashed potatoes instead. Despite my starch faux-pas, it was still a hit with both my boys.

1 Pound of chicken tenders
2 Tablespoons of Blackening Spice
1 tablespoons minced garlic
4 Tablespoons chopped sun dried tomatoes(marinated)
1/4 cup white wine
1 cup frozen peas
1 cup heavy cream

Dredge chicken tenders in Blackening Spice and cook on medium-high at 7 minutes per side, chop into bite sized pieces then set aside.

In same pan, add garlic and sun dried tomatoes.

Once you can smell the garlic, add the wine.

Once wine is almost completely reduced, add cream, chicken and peas.

Let simmer over medium heat for 10 minutes.

Serve with your favorite starch.

13 Months

The Boy’s First Birthday Post – One month late

My son was born thirteen months ago, more than a week late and weighing 7 pounds 11 ounces. It was a med-free vaginal birth, a testament both to my stubbornness to let MS affect my birth experience and to my fear of needles.

After 36 hours of labor I finally got to meet my son, screaming and with meconium coming out of his nose. I blubbered to Hubs, “look at what we made.

I bled a lot, so much I nearly needed a transfusion. I also tore badly and had trouble getting rid of all of my placenta. So, after holding him all too briefly, they took The Boy from me and sent me to have surgery.

Hubs went with The Boy and I went under, waking up a short time later totally looped(it was not long after Michael Jackson died and I kept asking the nurse if they gave me what killed him) and wondering where my family was.

Here's a picture of him when he was new:



We brought the Boy home two days later. Both completely ill-prepared, I relied on Hubs’ diaper changing experience. It entailed only the few diapers he’d changed since The Boy was born, but it was greater than mine.
Since then I’d venture to say that we’ve both changed hundreds of diapers – though it feels like thousands, or even millions.

Always super alert, The Boy smiled at two weeks and laughed not long after that. He rolled from tummy to back at his one month check-up and back to front around five months.

He started belly-flopping around six months and relied on that as his means of getting around until he was almost a year old, where he quickly went from crawling properly to walking. He pulled himself up and scooted around on furniture and people from around seven months, but has been a bona fide walker for several weeks now.

He has gone from loving his playmat to his Jumperoo to his wagon to his bike.




Pic of bike to follow

He began his year relying on breast milk and now he resembles something more like a garbage disposal unit, eating everything he can fit in his mouth.



He is clever and sweet and silly and mischievous and dramatic. He is more than we could have hoped for when we decided to get pregnant two years ago. I love him more than anything and am so grateful to have him in my life and to be able to call him my son. I can only hope that I am worthy of such a blessing.




Happy 13 month birthday, Baby Boy!

Love, Your Devoted Mama

Sad baby

The Boy and I have both been fighting colds since the weekend. He picked some bug up whilst sharing baby slobber at Gymboree and passed it along to me. His face is covered in snot. I’ve got a killer headache. We’re both rattling the walls with our coughing. It ain’t pretty.

Life goes on though, and, despite his congestion, he can still concentrate on his alphabet flashcards for a half dozen letters . He also still thinks that all animals, not just pigs, say oink, but never mind.

About the big push to start using my brain again, I’ve actually started reading Madame Bovary, despite my dad’s protestations that it’s depressing drivel. I gotta say, at only 40 pages in I already feel like it’s going much better than the populist book club crap I tried too get through at the start of the year.

I’ve been reading Beatniks by the divine Toby Litt at bedtime when I’m not too tired to keep my eyes open. That’s, admittedly, not very often, but I’m slowly making my way through it. That said, I count Mr. Litt’s books as my kind of brain candy, so I can hardly feel like I’m benefiting from too much intellectual growth by reading his work. Love him though.

The Boy has just bought me the fixin’s for a cloth diaper. That’s a first. If it’s a sign that he wants me to change him there might be hope that he may one day be receptive to potty training.

Open letter to my former hairstylist

Dear Lady Who Destroyed My Hair,

I know that you were proud of the work you did when you chopped off what little hair I had left and gave it a horrendous dye job, but it's been well over two months now and, I gotta say, what you did still makes me cry.

It's not your fault that I cut off my waist-length locks in a fit of postpartum frustration several months before I came to you. Nor is it your fault that I'm of an age where I might seek assistance in hiding the few gray hairs I have growing around my crown. However, when I went to you with a slightly shaggy, chocolate brown bob and asked for you to give me a cut and color that would sustain me until I could grow my hair out to my shoulders, I was not in any way expecting the monstrosity I left the salon with.

I mean, really? Turning me into Kate whats-her-face, hair super short in the back and long enough in the front to hang annoyingly in my eyes. My hair's too freakin' thick and curly for this shiz, even if I asked for it. Which I didn't. You didn't even leave it long enough for me to push it back behind my ears. I have a child!!! But am forced to jerk my head to get my hair out of my eyes like those emo kids on South Park.

And then dying it nearly black and bleaching big, ugly chunks all over. Really? It looks like the Boy was playing with the bleach bottle.

I went to see you because I wanted to feel a little bit better about myself, instead I'm left with a tragic mess on my head.

So, to summarize, eff you hairdresser!

Shoulda, woulda, coulda

I’m trying to begin Madame Bovary but Boy has cream cheese up his nose. His bastard molars have been making him so sad that I’m letting him watch Yo Gabba Gabba and eat his toast while he watches.

I decided to start Madame Bovary(my third attempt) because I wanted something meaty and pretentious to get me out of my year-long sabbatical from using my brain – at all. Sadly, what I’d really like to do is buy this:

From JCrew


And this:

From Baby Gap



And plan trips here:




And here:

Pins and needles in my arm

I have Multiple Sclerosis, a degenerative disease that strips my nerves of their myelin sheath and my life of the kind of fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants get-up-and-go that used to define me. I was diagnosed more than seven years ago now. I was living in the London at the time with the love of my life. Since then I moved to Canada, then back to my native Southern California, I married my aforementioned love and I gave birth to the coolest baby ever.
Not bad for a gimp.

Like I think I heard them say on some hideous reality show, I can(still) do what everyone else does, I just do it slightly differently.
Like this morning, for example. My baby, angry from the molars growing in his mouth, awoke at 7 30. I nursed him, ate my Mini-Wheats while giving him some Joe’s O’s(Cheerios for Trader Joe’s lovers), took a shower then had Hubs(who works from home) help us downstairs to the car.

Boy and I then met my dad for coffee. Dad moved Boy from the car seat to his stroller. I can do that, but even my 70 year old dad can get it done quicker than me.

We do all the same stuff in reverse, ending up planted in our living room where I’m left to look after Boy until Hubs finishing work – usually around 7 pm.
Depending on how pissed off my disease is on any particular day, I find keeping up with Boy fluctuates. I loved when he started crawling and I could trick him into coming to me instead of wobbly picking Boy up and killing my back in the process. There are days when I’m too tired to move the chairs that form our baby barricade to the table for lunch time, so I feed him free-range style. It’s messy, but nothing a ton of tea towels and some slipcovers can’t handle.

We have to deal with all the normal stuff of life a bit differently, but the final product remains pretty much the same.

Take the smash cake at Boy's 1st birthday party, the end result of which can be seen above. Good times.

What was I thinking?

Everything I wrote nearly a year ago was clearly BS. I mean, there I was talking about doing something when, in actual fact, I did nothing, blogwise that is.

In real life I've done quite a lot. I managed to survive my baby's first year, keep my husband happy and keep my house vaguely habitable. Not bad.

Now onto the work of writing about my little life.

Hmmm... where to start?