Doublets, Waistcoats, and Breeches (or, "Costume Box!")

I haven't written in awhile, which saddens me.  I really like giving an update a couple of times a week.  I could make excuses...in fact, I will make excuses.  No new entries in a week because:

• I've been working during lunch breaks.  Work got stressful all of a sudden -- go figure.
• The weekend was spent cleaning and spending quality time with my source material (that would be HD and the Hubs).  Lots of time at the library and on the swings.
• I've been watching the Masterpiece Classics special Downton Abbey.  PBS really knows how to appeal to my inner nerdiness.  I'm obsessed, but only have 2 episodes left.

By the by, if any of you readers have a hankering for an particular update/topic ("more crawling footage!") or if you have burning questions that must be answered ("why on earth did you make HD wear ____?"), feel free to email me or post in the comments.  On to the show!

I heart projects.  It’s a little thrilling to come up with the idea, make prep lists, gather all materials, and have a set end product.  Makes-ah me happy.  I’m also a big fan of playing.  There are all sorts of games/toys from my childhood that I reverted to when babysitting…and I’d love to dip into those as a parent too.  I get ridiculously excited over playthings for HD.  Scouring Etsy for retro toys; stockpiling books that I loved when I was young (Laura Ingalls Wilder -- holla!); and dreaming of couch forts, art projects, and playhouses [Interjection -- LOVED building an “Are You Afraid of the Dark”-inspired fort in the woods with my bro, my BFF Kim, and some neighbor kids.  We dug a pretty sweet mini-cavern to use as a hiding place.  It was cool until the hideout became a haven for skunks and teenage boys who liked to share an illicit beer].  I know the biggest lesson for me will be to dial back my own nostalgia and follow HD’s lead on her likes and dislikes.  Thankfully, as the moppet gets bigger every day, she has exhibited a few interests that have helped me form a project or two for later.


HD has revealed an extreme fascination for makeup, hair, and jewelry.  At least, I can convince myself that she has.  Makeup – she likes holding pots/tubes when I put it on in the morning (ok, so it’s prolly because the pots are perfect size for her chubby lil’ hands).  Hair – she always has her hands in my or her hair; loves playing with it (yeah, all babies pull hair any chance they get).  Jewelry – I daresay she examines my necklaces with a particularly delicate touch (ooh! shiny!).  I mean, the evidence of a future fashionista is solid!  I have decided it’s my duty to cultivate this potential hobby.


Hubs and I comb through our wardrobes every couple of months to weed out items to give to our local mission or Goodwill.  It occurred to me during this last round of closet cleaning that I should save some of the booty for my daughter.  I definitely used to dress up in my parents’ gear, usually dragging my little brother into the process.  So I have started setting aside old clothes, and pieces of old Halloween/sorority costumes that I weirdly hung on to.  A veritable costume box for HD!  You know, for once she’s walking and changing her own clothes and whatnot.  Examples of it current contents:

·         Various pirate paraphernalia (duh) – plastic sword, kerchief, eye patch, several hats, etc.

·         Awesome black kimono-style dress with huge multicolor sleeves

·         Heeled tap shoes (from my high school musical days)

·         A white eyelet & lace dress

·         Purply satin bridesmaid dress

·         A jaunty red beret!

·         The coup de grace – a bright red, old-timey union suit, complete with drop-down flap on the butt (lovely gag gift to Hubs one year from my folks; a welcome-to-your-new-Southern-family kind of thing)

Overzealous?  Perhaps.  I prefer “prepared.” 



HD, Mama promises that she will only dress up with you in the privacy of our own home, special occasions notwithstanding.



Incidentally, God help Hubs and me if HD ends up loving lucha libre or investment portfolios or something.  Although if she bats those eyelashes at us, I’m sure we’ll instantly become huge fans of whatever she wants.

Moonlighting on the Upper Deck (or, "Just Sleep, Already")

Dear HD,

Your daddy and mama think you hung the moon. Coming home to play with you after a long day at work...awesome.  I get excited when I ride the train, planning the games we'll play and songs we'll sing. Your parents love nothing more than making you laugh.  Oh, butterbean, we do got fun!

But.

Kindly refrain from awaking at 2:30am because you are anxious to play with us. Trust me, there's plenty of time for that after the more reasonable hour of 6am. We love you dearly (and thanks heaps for not waking up screaming), but the hour spent trying to get you back to sleep is more than a little ridiculous.  We'll play with you extra hard during daylight hours if you stay relatively quiet between the hours of 10pm-6am, ok?  I promise to play bouncy ball every day for a month if we can come to an agreement.

Love,
Mama

PS You've got some kickin' hair.  Who's your stylist? 

Message in a Bottle (or "Where I Post Something I Actually Wrote Last Summer")

This past week has been sort of rough.  Definitely don't need to dwell on the details of all that occurred; suffice it to say that work was stressful, the rain was plentiful, and that my laptop wouldn't turn on.  Nearly had a heart attack over that last bit, and it did prevent me from blogging mid-week like I had planned.  But the Apple store Genius Bar is a wonderful place, and today I got my Ol' Reliable back in perfect working order (plus all cleaned and gussied-up FOR FREE; woot Apple peeps!!).

Most new parents have some sort of list of Things I Will Teach My Kid.  This runs on the backburner in your head along with Ways I Will/Will Not Be Like My Parents and I'll Never Let My Kid Do the Following. These lists are constantly evolving -- surprisingly, things like life and your child's individual personality begin to factor in.  I've been writing things down (a diary of sorts) since I was pregnant with HD.  Way back in August, my daughter was not quite 2 months old.  And I made this list:

Lessons I Hope to Teach HD

1. Respect has to be earned (yes, even by your elders).  However, you owe common courtesy to absolutely everyone (yes, even the mean and/or stupid people of the world).
2. It’s important to give back.  You don’t have to have a lot to be able to give – you can aid people with money, your time, or your talents.  No one cause is better or worse than another.
3. You need to learn to make your own fun.  Entertaining oneself encourages creativity and imagination.  This means sometimes playing by yourself, and not having only toys with all the bells and whistles.
4. Southern manners are key – this includes sir/ma’am, please/thank you, excusing oneself when leaving, holding doors open, and giving your seat to someone who needs it more than you.
5. You have to try something (foods, activities, interacting with certain people) before you say that you don’t like it.  Otherwise, you’re just not making an educated decision.  Just like Green Eggs and Ham.
6. Playing outside is an amazing and wonderful thing.  But there’s also something to be said for the fun of couch forts on a rainy day.
7. Your parents will sometimes mess up, and they’re not always right (surprise!).  But everything they do and all decisions they make are made with the purest intentions for their children.  They’re trying their hardest, and sometimes you have to cut them a break.
8. Sometimes, being scared can be really, really fun (e.g. roller coasters, making new friends, ghost stories).
9. You will eventually do things that you wish you hadn’t done.  And you may feel bad or embarrassed about having done those things.  But once it’s done, it’s done.  Instead of worrying about it, learn from it.

Being as HD has yet to walk or speak real words, I haven't tweaked this list.  I'm sure over time I'll slack on some of these items, either not enforcing these ideals once introduced or just dropping them altogether.  But for now, I'm still trying to have a bit of faith in Future Self's optimism and enthusiasm for  teaching life lessons.  Some of these things she'll find annoying.  Hopefully some will stick, and she'll appreciate them later.  I certainly learned a few of these things from my own parents and am obviously grateful enough to want to pass them on.  [Side note for a future topic -- how becoming a parent opens whole new levels of respect/awe/thankfulness/surprise/bewilderment towards your own folks.].

Now here's a video of the kid being adorable, for no reason other than that's what the people demand!

That Blasted Day of the Wee Angel-Boy’s Arrrrrrows (or, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Everyone”)

My first holiday theme post!  This is the perfect occasion to touch on a subject that is most dear to my heart, but til now only hinted upon on this blog: my beloved Hubs.



The handsomest lad, with the luckiest lass.



It needs to be stated for the official online record that I am a very lucky woman.  I’ve had this incredible man in my life for neigh on 6 years (3 for courting, 1 for engagement, and nearly 2 of holy matrimony).  Since day one, this sailor has been my number one partner in crime.  So for those of you who can bear the sugar, here is an abbreviated list of why I adore him:



1)      The sarcasm that sounds like complete, utter sincerity.  Most people who meet Hubs need a few encounters to pick up on the fact that he is rarely ever serious.  He has this sweet, unassuming persona that cleverly masks his wicked sense of humor.  He will zing anyone and everything, and most people don’t realize that it’s happening.  Never fails to crack me up, usually when I least expect him to.

2)      I knew in the first year of our time together that I could marry him because he values his family so much (and, ergo, values mine).  He loves, appreciates, and respects his folks without having mama’s boy syndrome.  He and his bro are close, so Hubs automatically understands my friendship with my own bro.  But most importantly, he constantly demonstrates that our own new little family of HD, Hubs and Cap’n comes first.   



3)      “Partner” is one of the best words to describe him.  He picks up the slack when I’m lagging (in anything from chores or financial issues to planning our vacations and making sure we spend time with friends).  It’s always been this way, ever since our dating days.  But there is no way I fully appreciated it until we became parents.  Especially when he gets up at dawn with the baby to let me sleep.

4)      He smells awesome and is the best kisser ever.  Throw in that gorgeous smile and his cleft, and I’m a goner.  [Sorry to those readers who hate the mushy stuff.  But come on, he’s hot.] 

5)      On our first date, he reminded me of some stellar Goonies trivia [What is Mouth’s real name?  Only the true fans know!]  On our second date, he sang me the theme song to Perfect Strangers.  If that’s not wooing, I don’t know what is.

I could go on and on (he’s also a super hard worker, HUGELY intelligent, a super-talented Mr. Fixit, his friends are awesome, he’s a doting and completely involved daddy, etc, etc.). 



With a kid in the picture, it’s a little tough to fit romance in.  But it’s still very important that we do.  After all, we want to be a good example for HD on what a marriage should be.  This morning, I treated Hubs to cinnamon buns and juice in bed.  Left little post-its around the kitchen listing reasons I love him.  Tonight, we’ll play with our little girl valentine, then enjoy some take out and fancy wine.  Valentine’s Day doesn’t need to be expensive or exclusive.  I’m just glad for the opportunity to remind my amazing co-captain just how special he is. 

We love our children because they’re a part of us.  But we love our spouses and partners because we choose to.  Hubs, thanks for choosing me.



This photo is just necessary.  Happy V Day from HD!

Thar be the Winds of Change (or, "HD Is 2/3 of a Year Old")

Today our daughter is 8 months old.  This is hardly seen as a milestone birth anniversary (is that what you call them?).  But in the eyes of a mama, each month is total cause for celebration.  For example, today HD is 2/3 of a year old!  That's, like, so much more than half a year!!!  Being 8 months means that she's crawling and starting to understand actual words and is capable of feeding herself a bottle (which is SUPER amazing when I'm trying to cook supper).  And it means that she is officially twice as old as she was here:

Ok, she doesn't look very small with this book in her hand.  But the book is teeny, I promise.

The above was half her entire lifetime ago.  Blows my mind.  Now, in February, her hair lies flat, has much greater hand dexterity, she has teeth and can sit up on her own.  She becomes more of a little person each day.  Back in October, Hubs and I were stoked when we were able to make her laugh for the first time.  Being able to roll onto her belly was a momentous event.  In the present, laughter and rolling are daily occurrences, and HD is constantly surprising us with new tricks.  

Then, we would take her to restaurants and she would just sleep in her car seat.  Now, she's an active participant in every activity.  Grocery shopping -- HD smiles and flirts with the checker.  Driving home from daycare -- she waves at me in the mirror from her car seat.  Watching basketball -- she shrieks when I cheer for my Bruins.  This past weekend was my personal fave, though.  Hubs and I were avid hikers in our pre-baby days, and thanks to our Bjorn Active, it looks like we'll be making it a regular family thing in the future.  [Note of caution to any East Coast readers: you will be pea green with envy over the weather you are about to see from this February 6 video.  Just remember that the entire city of San Francisco is covered with freezing wet fog when you're enjoying a hot day by the pool in July.]

HD, you are the funniest (and funnest!  most fun! whatever!) girl I have ever met.  You are so curious and always have to examine, taste, and exclaim over everything in your path.  You are a social butterfly, smiling and babbling to everyone you meet (with extra special squeals of delight saved for your own reflection...which you then always attempt to hug and lick).  You are very affectionate, giving monster hugs to the people you deem worthy.  You love to try new things.  And you make your daddy and I crack up on a regular basis.  We're particularly big fans of your "benevolent dictator" wave (waves hand back and forth smiling, then finishes off by making a firm fist with a solid flourish...we're trying to get that one on video).  We're so excited each time you unveil a new side of your budding personality.  Keep growing, keep learning.

Insufferable Parrots (or, "Why Is There a Rooster in My Quiet Little 'Burb?")

I'm very used to waking up early.  Due to my train commute and trying to get a bebe and myself ready for the day, my weekdays start at 6am.  Since said bebe has no concept of sleeping in, weekends start at 6:30am if I'm lucky.  [Side note -- this morning, Hubs awoke with HD and let me sleep until 7:30am!! Utter bliss!]  Mind you, this doesn't typically bother me.  I mean, how could one ever mind waking up to this:

Yup, I put a naked pic of my kid on the interwebs.    I'll take it down before she's a teenager.

When HD has had a nice, long sleep, she is an absolute joy when she wakes.  All sunshine and smiles.  Super excited to see Daddy or Mama when either of us go in to get her.  It's like she can't wait to start a new day with her favorite people.  It's really pretty infectious.  And since she now (mostly) sleeps through the night, I'm usually just as stoked to wake and go into her room to greet her each morning.  Until recently, that is.

My little family lives in a small, quaint suburb.  All the restaurants here close by 9pm.  There are four senior living facilities here, and only one public high school.  The itsy bitsy Catholic university next to our neighborhood doesn't exactly have a thriving party atmosphere.  You don't hear any basic traffic noise between the hours 10pm and 6:30am.  "Quiet" barely begins to describe it -- try "sleepy," "placid,"  even "desolate."  

So imagine our surprise when, a couple of weeks ago, we heard the sounds of a faint "cockle-doodle-doo" at FOUR IN THE MORNING.  And it's continually happened (at varying degrees of volume) every morning since, usually from about 5-6:30am.  I don't want to be all City Mouse about this, but seriously?  I may jokingly refer to our little town as "the Boonies," but I did not sign up for Greenacres, y'all.  We inquired with neighbors, and it doesn't appear that anyone local is harboring illicit poultry.  The prevailing theory is that there's a wild rooster roaming about the college area.  We have deer, we even have mountain lion spottings, so I guess why not add wild fowl to the list?  Wonders never cease.

Until then, I think HD and I may have to obtain a couple of cutlasses and be on the lookout for this rooster.  I don't think roosters can really fly, so walking the plank may work as suitable punishment for our recent lack of sleep.

Beware the Lady Harrrrpington Smythe-Beard!

Pillagin' and Plunderin' (or, "Yes, I Am a Full-Time Working Mama")

Once upon a time, way back in 2008, I was on a very specific career path.  I worked with fun people and made a commission.  I got to travel and had an expense account.  I was good at what I did and was promoted and placed with high-profile clients accordingly.  Yet the entire time I was on that path, I had a sneaking, hidden suspicion that it just wasn't for me.  It took me a few years to realize that I was working in a job like that because I thought it was what I was supposed to do.  Degree from top university + prestigious corporate training program + non-stop schmoozy career = Success.  Friends, travel, building a family of my own could all be worked in around that eventually.

Don't get me wrong -- it does work that way for some people, people I actually know in real life.  That equation does make others happy.  But I wasn't.  So when I decided to start building a life with Hubs I not only moved to a new city, but I also completely switched up my career.  I took a job in HR (arguably one of the more thankless career paths in the working world) at a non-profit (definitely less than I was making before, but I believe in the cause!!).  No, I didn't do it to be a martyr or give my former corporate existence the middle finger.  There were lots of reasons for rebooting my career -- and the absolute biggest one was that this job allows me to separate my work and personal lives.

There are all sorts of studies about Generation Y and their (our) work ethic.  My favorite perception of my generation is that apparently, none of us believe in work-life balance.  That is, we're so plugged in to our smart phones and so amped to telecommute that work-life is a seamless state; there's no one or the other.  Supposedly, we're all drafting corporate memos on our iPhones while we're out at happy hour.  I call bull-honky, as I ostensibly am the complete opposite of what some Boomer psychologist says I'm supposed to be.  As soon as I log off my work computer, I am done.  I work very hard when I'm in the office, but the second I'm out the door I'm in full Mama-mode.  My train commute consists of making grocery lists, searching for baby food recipes on my smart phone (take that, corporate email!), and getting in a blessed 30 minutes of a novel (ah, glorious Me Time).  The second I get home, I am playing with, feeding, bathing, and comforting my baby and attempting to be an attentive wife.  Who has freaking time to work from home?

This week, I got another promotion.  When my boss broached the topic, I had two simultaneous thoughts: 1) "Ooh!  More money for HD's college fund!" and 2) "There's no way I can work more hours; I'd never see my kid."  Luckily, the hours will remain the same.  And no one's giving me a Blackberry any time soon.

Huzzah!