Burrrrr cold front

It's chilly today.  I mean, it's only in the mid 90's tonight so we ate dinner outside.  And said it was "nice."

We've clearly lost our effing minds if we consider that nice.  Whatever.

It's back to miserable this week with temps at 107.

Who is taking us in?  We come with baby, 2 dogs, a lot of jeans, and some vino.

I don't enjoy bumper stickers--in general.  Though the other day I did giggle when I saw a "screw it, lets go ride" harley davidson sticker on a minivan... but that was mostly as I was shaking my head at the irony.  However, maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe I WILL be that parent.  

Today G$ got his 1 year (and one week) shots.  All three of them.  Know what else?  My doc said he's "advanced."  Yep, she asked if he had 1 word.  I scoffed.  ONE word?  Try like 15-20.  He can also show you his toes.  She said, "what?  He can already do body parts?"  I thought about saying "of course" but really, it's only the toes.  He also does nothing on command so when she asked him to wave--he did nothing.  I'm sure she thinks I'm making it up.  BUT ADVANCED.  My baby (not toddler) is advanced!  So advanced that he refuses to give up nursing.  REFUSES.  Because, you know he knows everything already.  Basically, what this means is that me being dumb has come before I thought.  

And, you know how shots make most kids sleep a little more?  No, not mine.  No way.  Who needs to sleep?  Not this kid.  So we went to buy him some new big boy shoes.  Ummmmmmmmm when he can he start shopping at tjmaxx?  Apparently kid shoes are spensive... and they can wear them for THREE MONTHS.  THREE MONTHS.  (and by big boy shoes, I mean still super flexy soft shoes that are a little more rubberized than the robeez.)  Sigh.

So maybe I am that parent.  I'll be the "my kid is on the honor roll" parent.  In the minivan.  

Maybe I should start driving a harley.

.

Remember when...

Cleaning up after parties didn't look anything like this?

It's like going to the movies...

but it's a movie you hate and you can't believe you are there and you can think of a zillion other things you'd rather be doing like getting a bikini wax or cutting off your arm or something.

That's how my monday started.  Well, it actually started better than that, progressed as normal.  I dropped G off at Mrs. Frances' and was on my way to work with my baggy of cheerios and a diet coke.  All things normal, until I saw a 2 year old on a sidewalk... so I slow down.  Is someone chasing after him?  Nope.  Keep slowing down and looking.  No one.  U turn as the kid is starting to cross this super busy street.  The lady behind me was trying to figure out what I was doing until she saw him too.  We both stop and walking to him.  There is NO ONE AROUND.  No one.  Just a 2 year old with his blanket, a diaper that he had been in since the night before and a tshirt.  Oh, and he didn't speak english.  I had a baggy of cheerios and assorted baby toys so we tried to coerce him with those.  The cheerios worked-ish.  Another lady from the apartment complex is pulling out and struck by the situation and she stops.  (We have called the police, fyi.)  She says she's lived there a long time and has never seen them.  A new guy is turning INTO the complex and we flag him down.  He's a maintenance guy there and he goes and gets his golf cart trying to think of where this kid might live.  HE says that there is a new family who is renting by the week.  He goes to their place.  The door is open.  The lady is asleep.  The cops get there.  She does not come running.  She just walks over to us.  Picks up her little boy and says, "thanks."  That's it.  Nothing.  No explanation.  NOTHING.  Her child has been missing a good 45 minutes and NO PANIC.  The cops followed her back.  I hope they called CPS.  Though, in reality, I know that basically nothing will be done even if they did.

I just don't understand.  

Birthday tricks--and no, there weren't any hookers there.

Mostly, I wanted to use the word hookers in my blog title.  He didn't really do any tricks at his bday.  However, should youw ant to ooooo and ahhhh over the pictures.  Go here.  Or scroll down, whatevs.

So other than my baby being a genius (minus the thing where he eats like a dog with no hands off of his plate) he also isn't a huge fan of cake.  Or icing.  (I also do not love icing.  There.  I said it.)  Do you see that super cute party invite?  The one where I COMPLETELY forgot to put our address on it?  Luckily, everyone who came knew where we lived.  Maybe I was just subconsciously keeping all of you interwebs stalkers from coming to my house?  Yah... that's it.  You kids stay off my lawn!

Anyway, I bought the invite (digital image I had printed at costco for only $.12 a card!), the door hanger (which was originally a high chair banner that I gave a switcheroo with some hot glue) and the cupcake toppers all from this lady on etsy.  She was fabulous and amazing.  I totally plan on using Stylish Celebrations in the future. 

That ghetto cupcake stand?  As if you can't tell... I made it myself.  It's janky, but looked ok when you were distracted by the cupcakes--that I also made.  That blue icing just took a twirl in the mixer with some blue food coloring.  So what about the red?  We have a lot of red serving dishes and then I got some great red things on super sale.  I'm in love with the ceramic drink dispenser.  Red ribbon matched the invitation.  I lined our non mantled (ahem, Ben Black) area with some ribbon and then put up his month to month shots. 

The party favors that I forgot to hand out were mostly from the dollar section at target.  (I started collecting stuff a long time ago).  And that adorable smash cake?  Was from Paige's Bakehouse in Round Rock, Tx.  It was amazing and amazingly delish.  We had brisket, and Black Mac (mac n cheese), baked beans, bread, the kids had pbj, chicken and cheese sammies, and snack bags with cheerios and gold fish.  And there was some beer and wine.  Because lets be honest--Isn't this party about the fact that I've made it an ENTIRE YEAR?!?!  Kidding, it was a fabulous celebration of the G$.

The party was fun and a whirlwind.  I don't feel like I actually got to talk to anyone.  It was filled with laughter, and water games in the backyard, a little bit of sweat and a whole lotta love on that sweet baby (don't you dare call him a toddler) of mine.  (There are separate posts coming about ettiquite at work, a baby I found on the street (totally true), and his developmental milestones (that basically includes the words dadadadadada over and over again.)

Party on party people

A few pics to hold you over. Once I recoup from this weekend I'll tell ya more!

a year ago today

Was my last day of work before maternity leave.  Well, forced maternity leave.  My LAST day was supposed to be on Friday.  I was going to have a week off until my due date.  A week of lounging, pedicures, lunch with friends, last minute shopping, eating ice cream and sno cones til my hearts content.  You know because the day before a year ago today (follow that one?) my doc said... no progress.  I don't think we'll see this baby for a little while. 

mostly Gone were my fears of my water breaking in my office chair, who would clean that up, who would drive me to the hospital? would I get a new chair? how would we get my car home?  What if I had my baby in the car and the only person there was someone who had said some snarky well meaning comment? I'd mostly gotten past that.  Instead my eye was on the prize.  The prize of lounging.  But by Wednesday afternoon I felt a little off.  I took off from work 15 minutes early.  I laid in bed.  Nothing sounded good to eat (for the second day in a row.)  I ate shlotzkey's.  I took a bath because I felt really crampy (and I read that baths can help.)  I went to bed around 9, woke up around midnight super crampy.  Ben was watching tv.  I walked around to relieve my "cramps" and ate a couple of bowls of cereal.  Went back to bed... "cramps" got worse...

and I'll leave it there, because that was a year ago TODAY.  And much like my friend Nikki's mom... I will tell and re-tell G this story on the day before his bday for forever.  I will stretch it out the entire two days.  I will remind him of my PLANS.  I had Plans. 

But mostly... how I didn't realize those were contractions is beyond me.  So maybe I'll keep that part to myself.  He'll think I'm not very smart soon enough.  He's just advanced, that Griffin Andrew Black.  I mean, he's walking.  Clearly, he's a genius.  He also loves electrical cords and puts rocks in his mouth so maybe the label of genius is a little premature.

Whatever.  He is mine and totally worth breaking a few lunch dates.

you big ol' baby!!

Go to the grocery store while you're growing up so fast.  Make yourself useful.  Or at least make mom a cocktail.  On that thought... lets just stick with the cocktail.  We'll send dad to the store.  

My big ol' baby is ONE in only two days.  WTH?  Just yesterday I had a baby.  That's why my clothes are all still snug, right?  It JUST happened?  Whatever.  I welcome these double chins (photoshop them out, please) and this squishy middle (can we bring back elastic?)  I'd do it all again tomorrow... except that whole pre-epidural hours of contractions thing.  We can leave that part out.  Actually, it's long enough ago that I'd consider no drugs.  Clearly, my mommy memory is faulty.

More pics!

This is why we are married.

Because I like to disinfect things.  I like to sanitize G's toys.  I like to use our microwave sanitizer.  I apparently like to microwave toys with electronics in them.

I got all sad that G's vibrating teether quit working.

Ben said... Um, did you put it in the microwave?

Yes?

It's electronic.

Hmm... I wondered what that smell was.

I'm good at other things.

For 21 years.

SO I spoke on the last saturday at camp.  I was the "sending forth" message-er.  Have I mentioned my dislike/extreme nerves of speaking?  In groups?  When I can't fill the air with sarcasm and humor?  I mean, not that those things were lacking.  It IS me.  But it makes me sweat.  That speaking thing.  However, this year I was fine with it.  I wasn't nervous.  Maybe it's because the week was filled to the brim.  Every hour of the day.  At least 17 hours of the day.  It's hard work, but I love it.  This year was challenging.  We combined to senior high camps.  2 Senior high camps that have been separate since the beginning of time.  Two groups of high school students who have always done it this way.  (I say it like that because all it takes is one year for kids to say they've always done something.)  Most importantly, it was 2 groups of ADULTS who have always done things a certain way--which is more true.  A lot of these adults have been volunteering at camp FOREVER and so everything is personal--because they wouldn't be there if it weren't.  They wouldn't show up and take a week of vacation if they didn't love it.  And you know... kids wouldn't cause trouble if they weren't kids.  So here's the gist of what I said--

I started coming to THIS camp 21 years ago.  I have missed camp 2x in those last 21 years.  Once, after my freshman year of college (when you aren't yet old enough) and last year... when I was having a baby.

In 1998 when I was a senior in high school--I met a boy here--and I liked him.  I would walk beside him and hold my hand down in hopes he would hold it, and he did.

In 2005 I married that boy.  My husband who I met at camp.  The place that was so important to me and here are a few things that stand out most about that day--other than getting married, of course.  1.  My veil got trapped in the door.  That music was running out and people were looking around nervously.  2.  I told Ben I felt like I was going to vom and he looked at me and said, "it's not the time nor the place."  3.  Serving my camp friends communion brought me to tears.  I'm an awkward laugher--meaning when I'm awkward, I laugh.  I laughed a majority of our service (other than the puking thing) and when I was brought to tears by serving them.

This camp isn't about the people who are here right now.  It isn't about this specific place--though it is holy ground.  This is an amazing place.  When you meet people at camp you are meeting them on a different level. Camp friends are forever friends.  They're just different.  It would be easy to stay here.  It's easy to be good.  It's easy to see God in one another.  It's easy to have fun.

Then I read Jeremiah 29:10-23.  Usually, people read 11.  You know the one where they talk about giving you hope and a future.  It's all about how God has plans for you.  I think that seems intangible--especially when people are leaving.  This also includes being sent out into exile.  Which for a lot of those kids it feels like.  They are being sent back home to a place where they don't feel known, where they have parents who don't love them as much as I love them, where they are peer pressured, where it's hard to make the right choice, where it's simply hard--but they are being sent there.  They will be called back.  They always have a place--but God is present even in the exile--especially with the exiled.

That place is holy.  That place is where I grew up.  That place is where I spent the entire summer before I got married.  That place is where a majority of my best friends have come from.  That place is beautiful and hot as blazes in the summer.  That place is where kids go to just be themselves--or maybe someone else for a change.

(more funny post to come--one about how I spent a lot of my time on a golf cart, holding the oh shiz handle, planking, and G's first camp picture.)

It's the only way.

The only way we could keep the 11 month sticker on...

crib toys?

What keeps your child occupied in the mornings?  What do they love?  

We have a lovie that we LOVE, but looking for something to occupy for a little while when he wakes up in the AM. 

Ps.  IF you are going to lecture me on not having anything in his crib... please proceed to the next blog.

11 months

You're a big boy.  You're almost too tall for you infant carrier.  You wear size 3 diapers, but I know that won't be for much longer so I've been buying size 4.  You pull up and cruise on everything.  Everywhere.  You love to lay all over Maggie and pat pat pat her.  She doesn't mind.  You also like to drop snacks on the ground and say uh-ohhhhhhhhhh.  Stinker.  You say mama, dada, dog, something that sounds like maggie, door, down, sign eat, sign all done, we're working on "milk."  You are mostly down to nursing just 2x per day.  You NEED a snack when you wake up from your nap.  Need.  I'm pretty sure you'd also nurse forever.  You just spent a week with Glammy and Poppy and did really well.  So did I!  That was probably more of the miracle.  you snort like a pig. It is THE CUTEST THING EVER.  You lean your head bag and give me a big squinty face smile.  I love it.  You like the pool.  You love climbing up the slide.  You are the joy of our lives.  We can think of nothing else that we could love more.  You LOVE to come and get in bed with mama and dada in the mornings and climb all over us.  Hang over the side of the bed and say da da daaaaaaaaa to try and get Gizmo to come out.  You've taken steps--2 with me.  Apparently 4 with Frances, but I'm choosing to not acknowledge those.  We just booked flights to go visit Amy and Jordan in Michigan--your first trip!  And we can't wait!

I love you.  Can't believe you are such a big boy.  I can't believe you are only a year old and I can't imagine life without you.

Separation Anxiety.

My baby is one week shy of being ONE.  Being a TODDLER.  Maybe I should do an 11 month posting?  I'll try to do that this weekend.  He's cute, I'll tell you that much.  Yesterday he gota  big boy haircut--and took 2 steps.  And did the laundry.  wait, no... no one has done any laundry at my house in a week.  Whatevs.

So I took G$ to the doctor on Wednesday because he's not been napping well since we got home (from our week at camp, his week at Glammy and Poppy's.)  He wakes up from naps after only an hour, crying, he wakes up in the middle of the night, crying, he wakes up in the morning crying.  This is SO not normal for us.  So I thought perhaps he had a hidden ear infection or something?  No, she thinks it's separation anxiety. 

Problem--he doesn't mind daycare at all.  He reaches his arms out for Frances.  He doesn't always want to leave when I get there.  I'm not sure what to do.  I'm also in the process of weaning.  Which was going well.  He was nursing once in the morning and once at night--but in the middle of the night in the escalating tears and screaming--all I can think of... is that I have a magic boob.  What I'm fearful of is going back.  I don't want to reinstill that we answer every call.  He had JUST started sleeping through the night when we left.  When I try to look up what I'm supposed to do all I find are other parents in the same situation looking for answers.  So, what's the answer? 

So we are a tired household.  Tired baby.  Ttired mama.  Tired dada. 

Um, fix it? 

preview

Mommy advice.

It's time for another car seat.  We have the Roundabout 55 and he's now outgrowing his keyfit 30.  Soooooooooooooo what do we do?  I'm considering the myride 65, evenflo triumph advance, ug ug ug.  What do I do?  go the britax route again?

Can someone else do this for me?  My mind is currently filled with impact statistics and thinking about what he'll weigh when and how tall and when we get a booster etc.

I'm going off the map.

Well, not technically.  Technically, I'm going to camp.  i will, however, be off the grid, and on a golf cart terrorizing young children.  Eating too much.  Having too many diet cokes, (not the roman coke variety... xoxo roman coke, I'll see you and your friend, the hydrating glass of white wine in a week) and generally avoiding being in the same outfits as high school girls.  Because, really, they win everytime.  Good for them I left my super short denim shorts behind.  Kidding.  I brought them.  Kidding.  I despise when I see girls in them.  I will be saying things like, "unroll your shorts.  are you making good choices?  please stop touching one another."  Those are constants in my high school friend world.

I'm leaving my baby for a WEEK.  A WEEK.  Well, ok, he'll probably come visit every other day, but still he isn't with me all the time.  Sad.  I'm going to make it though.  Breakdown from missing my baby?  soon.  It's coming friends.  It's coming. 

I'll be making inside jokes, sweating my face off, and laughing a lot.  It's pretty good times this camp world.  It's just not high on the internet grid. 

I need some more hours.

I need them in my day.  I need them to get the aforementioned waxing.  I need them so I can do my job, be a mom, run, mentor a running group, fundraise, plan and direct a camp for 200 high schoolers, do laundry, clean etc.  I.  do.  not.  have.  time.

I do not.  So sitting down to blog seems overwhelming.  Have I mentioned my baby is on the down slide to 1?  Like, in less than a month.  Meaning, I haven't posted his 11 month info, yet.  Oh, so you can add party planning to that paragraph up top.

Camp starts on Sunday and we leave tomorrow.  Maybe I should pack?  or clean?  Or do laundry so that I can pack and clean?  I'm impressed with you people out there who seem to have it all together, have time for the blogs, have time to edit and post pics because basically... when I go into stress mode it's like I can't do ANYTHING.  So, you're like, hey in this amount of time you could have written a meaningful post.  But, I can't.  Because I'm sitting here thinking about all of the things I need to do.  It's circular, I know.

Get.  it.  together.