Monday Monday Monday

Labor day weekend is coming up and we don't have any plans. Memories of the times when we would have plans for Labor Day weekend are becoming more and more distant. I know someday that we will again have fun plans for holidays such as these when the babies get bigger- we're all about taking the kids on vacation... when they're more manageable. At the ages they are right now, we just get stressed out when we're out any place for too long. Hell, going out to eat for an hour and a half is an odyssey in itself. Right now Taylor and I simply don't have the energy to haul an infant and toddler out to a lake or a vacation spot- even with help. We're not there yet. We'd just gotten there this past Christmas when we took our trip to Hawaii- and that was just with Jude. Now there's two of them and we're still tired from chasing Jude around Hawaii. That's OK though. I'm just as much not ready to leave our babies as much as I am not ready to brave a trip with them both either. Once we get the groove of handling two little ones at the same time I think we'll be more confident in our ability to have fun AND juggle the them- because ultimately we are looking forward to future trips with just the four of us. What they say is true- adding a second one to the mix changes EVERYTHING and is harder on a whole new level- but worth every tricky minute!


                           PICTURE TIME:

Jude took his Cars hostage in the straps of our homemade baby proofing gates on the staircase. I didn't even have to help him with this one. He came running into the kitchen yelling at me to come see how he'd trapped his Cars. If I wasn't so sure that he's destined for super hero stardom, I'd think he'd do a fine job as a super villain mastermind. 

Baby Viv with cousin Gabby, decked out in her party dress for Mimi's 60th birthday party last Friday night. She looked like a delicious little slice of strawberry cake. She's wearing more pink and frills than I'd ever care to normally dress her in, also sporting the new flower hat headband I made just for Mimi's party- and this is because I knew it would please my mother, with her being so frilly and girlie and all. I was right. She got a kick out of her outfit and that made me happy to see her smile so big (and I'll admit, the pretty pink tutu dress made me smile pretty big too. I'm not made of stone!). I just know that the day will come when my mom will have Viv running around the house in a pink tutu and tiara, and they'll gang up on me with all of their uber prissy girlie nonsense. My mom spent years trying to wrestle me into dresses and prissy outfits, so I'm thinking that my time to struggle with my own daughter's personal style will come eventually.

Veggie scramble with an almond meal apple muffin and burnt bacon. Breakfast of champions (and I guess I would be the champion here). I've lost 10 lbs. in 3 weeks eating meals like this which kinda blows my mind and makes me very happy. I'm starting to miss cheese and bread less and less. If I can eat stuff like this and stay feeling as good as I do than call me a cavewoman, because I'm digging this cave man diet (or cave person diet, I should say)!

My parents will be celebrating their 32nd anniversary this week. I always remember how many years they've been married by the age I will be turning on my next birthday. I will be turning 32 this upcoming January, therefore they will be celebrating their 32nd anniversary in September. Hmmm. Yes, I've done the math. I figured it out when I was in middle school. It's funny to me to know that I was a "Whoopsie!" that happened on a cruise they went on in the Canary Islands while they were military leave all those years ago. My mom swears up and down that they had planned on getting married anyways- who knows. All I do know is that those two are as different as night and day and I've seen their extreme ups and downs  and highs and lows over the years, but in the end my mom still gets defensive of him when I complain too much about my dad and my dad still leaves my mom silly little love notes (like the one above) all over their house. They are companions for life and I'd like to think that me being their "Whoopsie" played some sort of factor in contributing to the martial fate of these of two kindred spirits. You're welcome mom and dad! 

Tummy time. Viv is getting stronger by the day. She's also found her voice- so gone are the days of the cute little newborn whimpers and cries. Now she yells- a lot. And loud. Her change in voice has also caused her cries to evolve into that shrill infant cry- the kind that makes you feel like you have to do everything in fast forward so that you can get to making the sound STOP as quickly as possible. The kind that makes 30 seconds seem like an hour when you're in the car or on the phone and can't drop what you're doing to tend to her. The kind that gives you hot flashes and makes your heart rate shoot through the roof. Viv is actually a laid back baby- remarkably quiet and content most of the time, very low key- but when she's gets in a mood or decides to demand something (like being held or a snack) LOOK OUT. We call her Fists of Fury when she gets mad, because she balls her tiny hands into fists and her face turns purple when she screams. This frightens me to death when I think of her at the age of 14.

Jude brought me a flower from the garden today. A girl never tires of getting flowers from cute boys. My husband sucks at the flower giving thing- always has and apparently always will- but I'm happy to see that my son is already showing signs of being the kind of guy who enjoys giving women flowers. I will instill in him the fact that this gesture never goes unappreciated- at least by any decent woman. Women who don't appreciate getting flowers have something seriously wrong with them- I don't know any personally, but I know there must be some freaks out there who don't appreciate this kind of thing, because I know there are many women out there that take these kinds of things for granted. There was an episode of SEX AND THE CITY (which I love by the way- the SHOW on HBO- not the either of the terrible movies they made) where Charlotte and Carrie are complaining about a man bringing them carnations- calling them a "filler flower." That's one of the only scenarios that the show produced that had me thinking, "What a couple of dumb bitches." To complain about someone bringing them flowers- as if they are too good for any one kind. So many women spend years never getting any flowers at all from a man, and those two pretentious cats were wrinkling their noses at the gesture like someone had just passed wind in their presence. Anyways, not sure where I'm going with this- but the bottom line is that getting a flower or flowers from a boy never gets old and should always always ALWAYS be noted as a highlight of your day!

Smile Triggers

I love the Bumbo chair. Whoever invented this is a freakin' genius. During my first pregnancy I saw this chair and thought, "What is the point of this goofy ass baby seat?" Then I registered for one anyways because that's what you do the first time you are pregnant: you register for anything and everything because you are trained to think that babies need an entire warehouse full of crap. Then you learn that they in fact do not need half the stuff you register for and you wind up with a whole warehouse full of pointless crap. The Bumbo chair, however, wound up being something very useful, as it helps with posture and holding their heads up. They also serve a great entertainment function. Look at this baby. I could die! I always think they look like little gnomes in these chairs. This chair is currently solving the crying/"Hold-me!" dilemma I find myself in with Viv when I'm trying to eat. Now she can sit on the counter in front of me and chat with me while I eat. She's so damn adorable in this thing with her proportionately too small for her big body teeny tiny feet that I almost can not handle it sometimes out of fear of geeking myself out to death.

Once I week I treat myself to a cup of decaf coffee from the bagel shop by our house. Putting my coffee drinking on hold while pregnant and then nursing is not as difficult this time around as it was with Jude- but I still miss this big part of my normal morning routine. Since Jude is at Playschool on Tuesdays and Thursdays, this is usually when I get the lion's share of my writing done, and the writing process for me will never be quite the same without a cup (or 2) of coffee. But I figure that I finally adjusted to the writing process without cigarettes over the past few years- something I believed to be near impossible at first- so unhooking myself from the caffeine IV isn't nearly as painful. As per my Paleo diet, I've found coconut milk creamer and the joys of Stevia "In the Raw" to replace milk and sugar in my decaf coffee- this has made for a nice, healthy placebo to trick my brain into thinking I'm having the "real" thing. Just the routine of doctoring up a cup of Joe and drinking it while I write makes my mind feel like I've got a caffeinated buzz going on. Hey, whatever works!

Niles loves to sunbath on Taylor's desk under the sunlight. Having been shorted on the photo shoots he once endured before human babies took over his turf, he soaked up every picture I took of him today, posing and flirting and getting his slut on for the camera. It was pretty ridiculous. I love this sexy guy.

Just when you think we've run out of ideas for things to do with our cars- I give you car bowling. Stack 'em up and knock em' down. This kills two birds with one stone: Jude's love of cars and his love of knocking shit over and making loud crashing sounds. Gotta love little boys. So easy to please.

Spent a big chunk of Wednesday at my mom's house and got to looking at old pictures of my family. Above is a photo of me as a baby next to my baby. The resemblance is pretty crazy if you ask me. It kind of blows my mind actually. Looking at your old baby pictures becomes a whole new world of interesting and entertaining once you've had children. It's pretty amazing the load of heavy thinking that accompanies spending a day looking at these photos and comparing them to your babies. I can't even imagine what my mom must have been thinking while she went through them with me.

Chris and I on the day he was brought home from the hospital

Chris and I hanging out in a sweet wicker chair that I wish my mom would have saved and handed down to me.

Why on Earth would I pump my kid full of red Sno Cone and take him to Toys R Us? Because I'm nuts or because I'm a kick ass mom? I think maybe a little bit of both. It was worth the sugar crash that Jude had later in the evening to see his face light up when we walked into the toy store and approached the huge aisle of Cars 2 toys. I never take him to Toys R Us because the place is overwhelming to me and I'm always scared that he will be THAT kid (you know which kid I'm talking about). But yesterday we had a special date to go do fun stuff. He doesn't get me all to himself too often now that the baby is here, so I felt he deserved a treat. 

 All day I'd been telling him we were going to Toys R Us later and he would do his stubborn 2 year old thing and say, "No want to go Toys R Us" (or his version of it since he can't say his Rs) since everything is NO right now. I told him, "Ohhhh buddy. You have no idea, but trust me. You WANT to go to Toys R Us."

Watching Jude realize just what kind of place we were in once we got through the doors was priceless. His eyes glossed over and you'd think he'd just shot up some heroin. He's pretty fortunate that I appreciate the importance of completing a set of something once you've started collecting. I've always been the type of person, even as a kid, to take care of my stuff and keep from losing my things- especially when I have a set of something. So even though he's only 2, I know that he won't be prone to losing the things that I buy him- because I'm that anal retentive mom who puts his name on all of his stuff and is adamant about checking to make sure everything is accounted for before we leave wherever we've gone to. I'm trying to train him to take care of and keep track of his things, because "money doesn't grow on trees, Sonny boy" (said in cantankerous old lady voice). It's not hard though. When he takes his stuff somewhere, usually a car in each hand, those cars don't leave his sight lest he have a melt down when he can't find them. He gets this from me. It drives me insane when something is out of place or missing- toys are no exception and the apple doesn't fall too short from the tree. Jude lost two of his collection series Cars toys for about a week and he and I both were nothing short of an OCD mess during that time. We could just feel that the chemistry of his racing team was all wrong. ALL wrong. When Nigel Gearsly and Holly Shiftswell (HELLO- of course I know all their names!) were finally discovered there was massive celebration. He's now 3 cars shy of collecting the whole set and I can't lie: I'm almost as excited about it as he is. Needless to say, his enthusiasm for his cars is contagious and I'm having so much fun with him!

My brother giving Viv a bottle for the first time. Why do guys hold infants like footballs? Considering my brother never played football, the awkward way he's holding his niece is probably a lot like the awkward way he'd handle a football. That's my guess. I literally had to physically position the baby on him, hoist her up with pillows and put the bottle in her mouth - and once I had this all set up, Chris didn't move a muscle the entire time he fed her. They spent the time eyeing each other as if to say without words, "Are you cool? Is this comfortable? Are you comfortable? Is this working for you? Ok, but are you SURE you're cool?" and remained as stiff as a lovely statue of an awkward uncle feeding an equally awkward baby. 

I wondered a lot when I was pregnant with Viv how I could possibly love another baby as much as I love Jude. I mean, you have to wonder. Obviously you know you're going to love your second child just as much as your first- but that love for your first is so intense and so big that you really do stop and try to wrap your head around the idea of loving another baby that much. The picture above captures the very essence of the "Ah ha!" moment I have whenever I think back to that wonderment. It's images like this that make me have to stop sometimes and pinch myself because I can't believe this child is actually mine. 

Oklahoma sunset last night. It was difficult to focus on the road while driving home from Norman because it was so flippin' beautifully distracting that I couldn't stop looking at it. Luckily the babies were in the back of the car, otherwise I just might have driven clean off the highway. I'm guilty of complaining about how bored I am of this state and how I would love to move away, but I have to admit that sunsets like these make me grateful to raise a family in such a wonderful place.

Someone is getting more and more of his Dad's sense of humor every day. He makes me belly laugh so hard sometimes that it gets tricky to stay being the parent and not get down to his level. He's already discovered the humor of tooting and the word "boobies." We assure him as he's cracking himself up that those two things never cease to be funny (but that we say "Excuse me" after we toot and we don't grab mommy's boobies). At some point he heard the word "butthole" and instinctively found it hilarious. He started marching around the house chanting, "Butt-Ho Butt-Ho Butt-Ho" and before telling him that we don't say that word ("we say bottom"), I would have to turn my head and cover my face to keep him from seeing me giggle to the point of tears because I'm immature in this department and am still learning how to censor inappropriate language around my toddler, because Repeaty Pete is repeating EVERYTHING I say now.

Paleo pizza. I was getting pissed trying to make the dough for this tonight (almond meal based) and was about to give up and throw it against the wall (and I might have if it weren't stuck like glue to my fingers), but in the end, it turned out FANTASTIC. Didn't think I'd dig a pizza without cheese, or normal crust for that matter, but once again I've been proven to be wrong. It's super good and super filling. It satisfies the pizza craving without all the delicious artery clogging cheese and crappy mystery ingredients of conventional pizza crust.

My newest head band for Viv. I actually can't take credit for the style of this one, as I found one exactly like it on Etsy. It was selling for $15 plus shipping, and it is the one that inspired me to get off of my butt and just start making them myself. I found the crafting flowers- same ones as the one on Etsy- on Overstock for $4 and sewed them to a ribbon. BOOM. The most fabulous element of this accessory? Viv's squishy naked body rolls, which have nothing to do with the headband and everything to do with AWESOME.

Cold Eggs

As most everyone knows, every year on Christmas day the movie "A Christmas Story" is on 24/7, and I have to watch it no matter what. Usually at least 3 or 4 times. It's not Christmas to me without it. This past Christmas day, when we were on route to Hawaii, it was my first Christmas that I can remember not having watched it. Anyways, one of the more memorable scenes in that movie (as there are too many to count), is a scene where Ralphie, his dad and his little brother Randy are at the dinner table, while their mother is serving them and cooking. Every time she sits down to eat, someone needs something or something comes up to prevent her from getting to take a bite. The narrator states that his mother had not eaten a hot meal in over 15 years. That always resonated in my mind, and I think it's because I've grown up watching my own mother prepare meals and feed my family- always the last to sit down and make herself a plate, and even then, she's always getting up to grab anything anyone needs- not just when we make mention of, let's say, more rice or a new fork because ours has fallen on the floor. Her mom radar goes off and before we even budge to get up, she's out of her chair and getting whatever we need- shoo'ing us away if we try to object and do it ourselves. I really think that she subconsciously waits to be needed for these things. That's what a good mom does. I think my brother and dad and I have always taken this overt willingness in her to take care of us at mealtime for granted- I know I used to. But I get this concept now as a mother- because it's happening to me with my kids and my husband.

Hot meals are becoming a thing of the past. I really realized this the other day when I finally sat down to eat the veggie and egg scramble with salsa and tons of habanero sauce breakfast I made, after Taylor and Jude had finished eating their breakfasts. Right when I literally opened my mouth to take a bite... "WHAAAAA!" Baby Viv starts crying. This was the third day in a row that she has stalled my ability to eat breakfast. Day 3 of cold eggs.

Baby Viv hates it when I get to eat. She always needs me or can't handle being in an apparatus right at that moment I finally sit down, relax into my seat and pick up my fork. Taylor and I always laugh at this- it's so predictable. Every time. Jude can either eat so fast that he's off and running and getting into something he's not supposed to by the time I get to eat, or he's made such a huge mess that it must be cleaned immediately to save sticky messy cheesy saucy handprints on furniture, toys and walls.

Husbands can be helpful, don't get me wrong- but they aren't Mommy, and mommies are the ones that fix crying babies and make a toddler's meal more exciting or appealing to eat. Not only that- and this is very domesticated housewife for me to say (Me from 5 years ago would kick my ass if she heard me say this)- but after the time and care that I take in making meals for my family, it's more important to me to have my husband enjoy a hot meal than it is for me. It's more important to me to make sure my kids are tended to and happy than it is for me to have hot food. I don't mind waiting to eat and I don't mind eating not-as-fresh of food (that and partially because the control freak in me would rather correct an issue with the children myself so that I know it's executed in the most effective and efficient way possible!). In theory, it seems frustrating and disheartening to have to eat cold food, but in reality, it's a no brainer. That's what microwaves are for. I'm convinced that a mother had to have come up with the concept of the microwave for this very reason.

"A mother is a person who upon seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie."


                                                                         In other news:

Awesome consignment store find: baby girl hippie pants, Viv's new go-to outfit. She now wears them with pretty much everything, even if it doesn't really match. Most of the time though, it's just the pants with no shirt so that her cute little body rolls have room to breath.

Car spy hideouts for Jude's racing team. Nothing like a drawer full of tupperware and some imaginative encouragement while you're in the kitchen to keep a busy little body happily occupied.

New flower head band I made for Viv, debuted at the Norman Public Library for music time. It was there while I was nursing her (with a cover up, as I am not the type of nursing mother who whips it out for all to see) that I was "congratulated" for breastfeeding my baby by another mother- a very bohemian-like hippie mother, who was more than eager to inform me that she had just weaned her own child off of breastfeeding... her 4 year old child who breastfed until he was 3 and a half. Now, do random women come up to you to congratulate you on breastfeeding because they really give a crap that you too are breastfeeding, or do they confront you because they are really just so eager to share the fact that they breastfed their child until the child was speaking in complete sentences, tying their shoelaces, eating meat and learning to read? I'm guessing the latter. Sounds to me like someone still needs a little closure with breaking off the breastfeeding relationship she has with her kid.

Euphoria! I found coconut milk ice cream-like dessert at the new Natural Grocers in Norman. Not exactly on my Paleo diet, but it's dairy and soy free- and we've replaced all dairy and soy products with coconut milk and coconut products, so why not? Taylor and I were like kids on Christmas morning when I got home with this stuff. In moderation though! Everyone needs a treat every once in awhile! 

My leggo building skills are improving- I can make a pretty mean "Tokyo Tower," which Jude now insists I build at least once a day with him. I've started adding cardboard cut out ramps and incorporating little nooks for spy hideouts in them, which he loves. He gets engulfed in playing with them, and I can hear him chattering away at himself, narrating little stories and scenarios he's come up with for his Cars, which is like the best thing EVER to hear. Then the tower lasts about a day before he destroys it like Godzilla- which disappoints the hell out of me sometimes, because I spend so much time building them with him... but isn't that half the fun? I remember having a dollhouse as a kid that I would spend hours meticulously placing every tiny accessory and piece of furniture in... only to stage an F5 tornado or burglary soon afterwards and ransack the entire thing- so I get the appeal. It's a creative way to start all over.

Notice Daddy in the background asleep on the couch after work. NICE. Mommies don't get to pass out on the couch for a nap while children are awake because the work doesn't end, even after the little ones are in bed! (am I right or am I right???)

Car "traps."

Zzzzzzzzzz.

My handsome hubby with Viv in her fantastic pants. Notice where Viv is losing her precious baby hair. I too am starting to lose my hair- handfuls of hair. Gobs of hair. So much that I feel like I am going to go bald every time I brush my hair or take a shower. This is normal after having your baby, since you don't lose any hair while you are pregnant- but it doesn't make it any less freaky when it happens. Between the baby, me and my dog and cats who are shedding like crazy because of this heat, my house is one big scary hairy disaster area. Ew!

Little Things

The past few days it's been all about enjoying some of the smaller details in my day to day. Like headbands, for example. I've always thought that some of the bows and headbands I see on baby girls are a little ridiculous. I mean, really. Some of them are over the top ridiculous. Some of them are so ridiculous that it takes you an extra look-see to find the baby buried beneath the in-your-face obnoxious blossom on the baby's head. Then you wonder if the super cute headband doesn't take a bit away from the super cute baby it is housed on... which is just too bad for the baby, to be out shined by a flashy accessory.

I was really at battle with myself internally when we discovered that we were going to have a little girl. Next to calling my mother to tell her the great news, my next thought was, "To big bow, or not to big bow?" But despite my struggle, I have surrendered to the girlie Gods. I'm no match. There's just something that happens to even the ungirliest of girls when you have yourself a baby girl. Vivienne is bringing out this whole inner girlie girl in me that I didn't even know was in there. BUT- I have my limits. And I have my style. I wouldn't put anything on my baby that I wouldn't be caught dead in... um... if I were a baby. And could dress myself and pick out my own accessories I guess.

I'm seeing that there are different styles of baby headbands that seem to coincide with the different styles of moms out there. It sounds silly, but it's true. It also sounds a little superficial- to accessorize your baby girl's accessories to match your own style as a mom- but it's also true. We're all just little girls grown up playing dress up with our human baby dolls. Sweet- but a little creepy. I'll take that.

Pretty much all of the stuff I've found to buy in stores, me no likey. So I got on Etsy and found a whole bunch of super cute stuff that was more my style- only to realize that for the money I would pay for someone else to make cute headbands for my baby, I could go to Hobby Lobby, spend a little more, and make a bunch with my own two hands. What started out as a little project to make Viv one headband has turned into a nice big messy project on my kitchen countertop, and Viv will have a whole line of new headbands to wear this fall. Making her headbands makes me excited for this whole new world of possibilities I have now as being a mother to a little girl. So fun!

Although a good sport, she eventually grew tired of me holding patterns and buttons and lace and different colored wool felt up to her head. Here she is in the fabric department where she bailed on the creative process and left me to fend for myself.

Gigantic flower hat headband. It's the ridiculous size that I was speaking of, but a design that I can handle being so ridiculously big because I'm torn between dying laughing at it and loving it at the same time.

I wanted to make her one reminiscent of the Alice in Wonderland theme in her room. I think she looks properly accessorized for a crazy tea party. Mission accomplished.

In other news, the Paleo diet is going well. It's been a week and a half, Taylor and I have both lost 5 lbs. and we would both kill for some Taco Bueno, a bowl of ice cream or hell, even a damn slice of cheese. I haven't had bread or dairy in almost 2 weeks. I feel great but for someone who used to be a gigantic cheese whore, I have moments when I feel as if I might sell my soul for a slice of cheesy pizza. Or a baguette with butter. We have made some Paleo cookies, Paleo muffins and Paleo pancakes- none of which are half as tasty as a REAL cookie or a REAL muffin or a REAL pancake, but that's OK. Made with coconut flour and/or almond meal, these substitutes are surprisingly satisfying. They taste healthy and take the edge off.

APPLE PALEO MUFFINS

CRANBERRY MACADAMIA NUT PALEO COOKIES

This next bit isn't such a little thing. It's actually a pretty big thing- physically speaking. Taylor got me a Tahoe to haul the kids around in. It's our new family ride. My Honda CRV is now his work car and I am  now officially one of those moms whose parking jobs I used to scoff at when I would see them climbing out of their huge SUVs to unload children and groceries in store parking lots. Taylor had to take me on a driving lesson with this big bitch because I've never driven anything so large and I don't want to screw it up. Parking it is a pain in the ass, but I will perfect it. I'm determined not to become one of those people whose cars I leave Post-It notes on, thanking them for parking like dipshits because they drive gas guzzling hogs. I feel a little guilty for driving a gas guzzling hog- something I never thought I would do- but my husband is so sweet and generous for wanting me to drive something more comfortable and roomy and SAFE for our family. We swore we'd never get a family van. No offense to anyone with a family van, but we decided that just because we are parents now we don't have to give up all of our cool points. And I'm sorry, you lose a lot of cool points when you succumb to the family van. Not that it matters what I think, but I'm suspecting I'm not the only one who feels this way!

BIG BESSY

Jude filled up his "Good Boy" sticker chart yesterday, which means he gets a prize. This is my way of bribing him to be good, use the potty, pick up his toys, practice good manners and eat all of his meals. He will do just about anything for a Cars sticker, and the hopes of an actual Cars car prize has been pretty successful in helping to train him to behave more like a civilized human, and less like a wild baby animal. I remember that this kind of incentive always worked on me as a kid, so I figure why not use it with my kid? I want to show him that he can reap positive benefits in life by staying on the right track. He will learn this lesson someday in high school when a Cars car turns into a real big boy car that he can actually drive.  

Below illustrates yet another day in my day to day life with all things toy cars- this tiny little detail has not only become a huge part of Taylor's and my life, it's become one of our very favorite details. We hardly remember life before these things took over our house, and things just wouldn't be the same if we weren't tripping over them and finding them in shoes, cabinets, toilets, couch cushions, sinks and every other nook and cranny they will fit in. Today we made a "car show." This is where Jude takes all of the cars he can find downstairs and lines them up meticulously across the living room. God forbid the dog run through the room and knock one out of place. All hell breaks loose. Yeah, Jude's a little (a lot) OCD when it comes to stuff like this. He wants things just....SO. Taylor thinks that this will make him good at math and business someday. Maybe. I think that this quirk will just make him a perfectionist who strives for success in all aspects of his life, whatever he chooses to do with it someday. 

He's taken over the baby's nursery. He likes to stand on his step stool while Viv is in her crib, show her a car, then race it off the banister onto the floor. She loves to watch her brother. She's always fascinated by what he does. It's lovely to watch.

Loving life with a little BOY & GIRL

Super Good

Today has been one of those super good days that makes up for all of the not so super good days I've had in recent memory. I love how just one super good day can have the power to kick the crap out of about 5 super bad days. This is one of life's little treats that I truly savor.

HELLO RAIN! When Baby Sumo woke up at about 4 a.m. today and was ready for a snack and snuggle time, I dragged my tired ass upstairs to her nursery, scooped her up out of her crib and proceeded to do our middle of the night routine- which involves her nursing back to sleep on me while I nod in and out of a bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived stupor. In the midst of our nursing/cuddle/dozing time, thunder rolled outside, causing me to snap out of it enough to realize it was raining. The sound of the rain clickity-clacking on the window put my whole body at ease and the baby and I sighed collectively and melted into one another even further. It's small moments like this one that you have with your child when they are just a little baby- when it's just the two of you together in the quiet, still, wee hours of the night- that make being a mother the most magical experience in the world.

I was thrilled to discover later, after I was up for the day, that the rain lasted all night. It wasn't just a fluke, freak rain blast like last time. It drizzled on and off in the morning, then we got hit with a pretty impressive downpour. This caused the temperature outside to drop to a heavenly 73 degrees and allowed us to shut down the AC and open the back doors, leaving the screens open and all of the beautiful wet rain smells free to drift in and refresh our home. Jude ate his oatmeal clad in his underwear and chattered on and on about the rain- getting up frequently from his little table to run to the screen door, spoon in hand, and shout, "Wook Mommy! It waining! Wook Daddy! It waining!" Then he'd hurry back to his table to gaze out the windows and watch as the rain poured down and hit the water in the pool, doing the little happy shoulder wiggle dance he does when he's excited while he ate. The sight of him having this moment of appreciating the rain all on his own is a priceless memory of him that I already know I will never forget.

The cats even slinked out of their mysterious daytime hiding places to join the dog at the back door, unfazed for the moment by the wrath of Jude. The dog and cats lounged together on the floor, leaning against the screen and enjoyed the rain together.

With the AC shut down, the energy in my house changed- for the better. It has been working so hard these past two months that when we turned it off, I could actually feel my entire house RELAX, which in turn of course sent that wonderful vibe directly into each one of us- including the pets. Even when Jude would run to the door and get in their faces to yell, "Wook Nilo, it waining! Wook big Dee, it waining! Big puppy! It waining!" addressing each of them individually, the animals didn't run away, but instead just twitched their tails, as if to say in agreement, "I hear you, brother."

Driving to take Jude to Playschool, I tried to remember the last time I drove in rain- and I couldn't remember. It has been that long. It remained cloudy and cool for the majority of the early part of the day, and I actually got to drive with the windows rolled down after the rain passed. Baby Sumo made cute, girlie baby sounds in her car seat in the back, and it occurred to me that this was her very first drive with the windows rolled down. Her first ride where a cool breeze could hit her little cheeks and the sound of swishing windshield wipers could lull her to sleep.

Driving with the windows rolled down was the cherry on my Thursday. Not only did I feel like I was breathing outdoor air for the first time in forever, I felt like I could practically feel the Earth beneath me breathing for the first time in forever. She's been so parched and thirsty around these parts for so long, the wetness on the ground began to seem like puddles of thankful tears.

At one point, while listening to the Beatles LOVE soundtrack amidst taking all of this in, all of these good vibes got a little overwhelming to me. It takes a lot to move me, but I gotta admit: I was on fire with the "moment" having today.

I thought to myself that from now on, when it rains, I will think back to this horrible drought we've been in this year and I'll be grateful for every drop. I've always loved the rain, but now I think I love it just that much more.

Comfort Zone

I used to hear the words "play date" and they made me roll my eyes. Play date? Really? What would come to mind would be a group of women sitting around discussing poop, breast feeding and all things rug rats, while their Energizer Bunny charged toddlers ran circles around them shrieking, fighting over toys and bouncing off the walls. 

That was what I imagined Pre-J (Pre-Jude). Not only did the idea of spending any amount of time with a small child- even if it was my own- make me cringe, but the idea of spending any amount of time with other women and their children made me want to run for the hills. Even right after I had Jude, and would take him out adventuring just the two of us when he was about a year or so old, I would see play date groups in action- and I'd watch them like I was on safari, observing them like they were groups of wild animals. 

I'd study the play date "packs," consisting of several women out in a group with their little ones- and I would cringe. I would over hear their conversations... bits and pieces of discussions that made me roll my eyes. Shrieking children running circles around their mothers, fighting over toys and sippy cups, and bouncing off the walls while their mothers somehow managed to keep their conversations going despite the noise. Ugh. Don't these women have anything better to talk about then their kids? Why don't they control their babies- those kids are going berserk! 

Yes, this is what I thought... and I HAD a baby.

Of course, then my baby started growing into a toddler, and began showing indications that I was doing a really crappy job of socializing him with other kids. My theory had always been that since I seemed to do fine living a life a little withdrawn from contact and interaction with other people, my kid would do fine too. He'd get into preschool eventually and would learn and adjust to playing with other kids there. I know now that this was lazy and naive. He couldn't just play with me for forever. Although I knew he loved me, I could see him getting bored with me. I could see his curiosity in other children, but when he was confronted with him, he behaved like a little wild monkey. He had no real concept of sharing or personal space. Of course he was only a year and a half old, but I would see plenty of other kids his age who were well on their ways to getting a grip on these basic social necessities, so I knew I was doing something wrong. And the biggest growing issue of all? 

Jude's energy level. It was shooting through the roof at a break neck pace. My baby had evolved into a one man wrecking crew. He needed friends. He needed buddies. He needed other kids that he was familiar with- so he could release this energy and play like a toddler should play. Other kids his size to run with, scream with, fight over toys with, be silly with and get messy with. He had plenty of years to decide if wanted to be a social person (like his dad) or a more reclusive person (like me)- but I couldn't make this decision for him. In fact, I hope that my children inherit a healthy does of their father's need for socializing.

BUT: how would I begin to socialize Jude? 

Ahhh yes. The play date thing. 

(LIGHT BULB!)

Problem? Establishing this isn't as easy as it sounds. The idea really intimidated me.

My scrutiny against those play dating mothers has become clear to me now. I didn't have many friends with kids to play date with, and I knew it- so deep down inside I must've resented those women a little.

It's like junior high all over again, or being the new kid at school when everyone has already picked their circles of friends. 

We women can be just as excluding of other women now as we were of other girls in grade school. Most established groups of females are not very open to inviting more members in when we have our elite few nailed down, even if we know and are cool with other women. 

Just because a woman knows you and is cool with you does not mean that she will invite you over to partake with her play date group circle. 

Play date candidates can also be very flighty- women can talk all day about getting together for your kids to play- but that doesn't mean that it's ever going to actually happen. Often times, life happens and plans don't go through. Or, in many cases, plans were never really intended on going through and talk is just talk. When this happens so many times with those people, all you hear is the sound of a deflating balloon when they speak of play dating with you. 

I've attempted to initiate play dates with women I know in the past, only to get bailed on or blown off so many times that I gave up completely with them. I imagine that the feeling you get when this happens so many times by the same people is a lot like the feeling a guy gets when he gets shot down after asking a chick out on an actual date date. Another reason I'm glad I'm not a man.

Lucky for me, I have gradually established a pretty good mommy social network. I have friends with kids who I now get together with from time to time to play- and most importantly, about a year ago, a few girls that I knew back in high school clued into my tentative play date potential and interest on Facebook, and they invited me to join their play date circle. They didn't have to, but they did, and I am very thankful for that. It's amazing how you can re-meet people that you knew as a kid (wow- sixteen, seventeen and eighteen is now "a kid" to me!) in adulthood and create entirely new friendships, on an entirely new and wonderful level. What comforting food for thought that would have been very helpful to know during adolescence when most friendships are incredibly fleeting and unstable.

Well, it turns out, I was right. What I imagined play dates to be like is exactly what play dates are like. The poop and breast feeding talk. The shrieking and Energizer Bunny kids bouncing off walls. And you know what? I LOVE THEM. Don't know what I would do without them and the wonderful little play date "tribe" that I have been fortunate enough to become a part of. They are fun, they are consistent and they are lifesaving.

I look forward to it all week, during the weeks that we have one planned. These play dates are not just fun for Jude, but they are fun for me because I enjoy the company of these other mothers so much. I admire them as women and as mothers and I adore their children and their unique little personalities. They are so beautiful and precious and smart and funny- just like their mommies! I am enjoying the hell out of watching them get bigger along with my Jude. I'm happy he already has friends he talks about and gets excited to play with.

I think I'm really lucky.

They have helped me get out of my comfort zone, which involves a whole lot of time by myself, a whole lot of not interacting with people and definitely a whole lot of shying away from new relationships.

Most of all, at the end of the day, I am happy that I got out of my comfort zone for Jude's sake. At his Play School's parent night, his teacher shared with us that Jude is the most social kid in the class. He talks to everyone, plays with everyone and  doesn't limit himself to just any one or few particular other children like some tend to do. He's friendly and outgoing and open to others by nature. I don't doubt for a second that his time with our play group has played a role in bringing this out in him.

SO- add this to the list of bonuses that having children has done for me and my personal growth: Getting out of my comfort zone and meeting new people, opening up to the possibility of new friends (as several of my old ones virtually bailed on me once I had Jude) and immersing myself in that once "taboo" subject of children, which brings more life and youthful energy into this former cynic's life every day.