mom jeans.

I went to the gap the other day.  As I'm known to do.  And the lady who works there, Lisa, she knows me.  And the G$.  (It's all by it's lonesome so no mall going required.  SCORE.)  Anyway, I tried on a pair of jeans and then told Ben about them.

Me:  I saw Lisa today (roll of eyes from Dr.) and tried on a pair of jeans at the Gap.  I liked them because they come up a little higher.

Ben:  mouth open.  wow.  For when you stop being a woman and start being a mom?  Are you there?

Me:  Gap doesn't sell mom jeans!  (... but I know they used to.  I think that style has chosen to remain only in the LL Bean  catalog.  At the gap it used to be the "relaxed" fit though... I had some.  In the 90's.)

I'm a mom though.  Might as well start looking the part.

They were long and lean's.  In case you were wondering.

Our day in a nutshell.

It's a rainy day here. Finally. It's supposed to rain for the next 5 days or something crazypants. So I put together a goodl ol' cardboard box today (and buy put together, I mean put things inside of.) I do not like the noise of cardboard so this is PURE LOVE GRIFFIN, PURE LOVE. It's an activity box filled with shiz we already own. SURPRISE. MOMMY LOVES YOU. I read about it on some blog as a toddler activity that kept her kid busy for 45 minutes.

My child has never done anything for 45 minutes. Ever.

We had a really awesome afternoon going from thing to thing to thing, though. And he's pretty funny. With a new love of blowing his nose (complete with blowing noise) and pretending to go night night in random places. He just lays down and says "ni-ni".

Also new--he randomly points at things and says, "nnnnnnnnno."  Thank you Frannie.  A girl at his daycare says this.  it's awesome.  Or less awesome.  Depends on if it's your kid or not, I suppose.

He is also not a fan of spaghetti which makes me question if he's mine.  And uses yogurt as a dipping sauce for whatever he's eating.  Gross.

And I put out Christmas decorations.  Win.  And cleaned the kitchen.  I've yet to tackle laundry chair because well, she's a bitch.  She will take you in, steal your underpants, and taunt you.  Just asking you to put all of your laundry on her.  Then she'll inspire you.  Take your clothes.  Put them on the bed.  You'll put them away before you go to bed and then she's all TAKE THAT SUCKA you're just putting all of those clothes back on me!  What?  It doesn't happen to anyone else?

Should I mention again that I used to pretend to be Annie when doing my house work growing up?  Active imagination.  Full force.

Last year at this time...

This little peanut was 4 months old.  Ben went to Japan and we were home alone and I was obsessively reading the Hunger Games.  G was still living in our bathroom.  Which meant that we had basically moved out of our own room and took showers and everything upstairs.  This is G$ in the bumbo realizing how handsome he is while I'm getting dressed for work.  Upstairs. This is the time when clothes LIVED on our dining room table because well, I couldn't ever put them away.  Now our clothes mostly live in "laundry chair" that resides in our room where the once occupied by the glider.  PS. G now lives in his room.  And he's 16 months old.  And rode on a train today (at the mall.  With train conductor Kyle who also referenced himself as a professional whistler.... who has memorized over 100 disney songs.)  Conductor Kyle was a little creepy, but a good driver through a crowded mall.  I think he has a bright future.

All Aboard! 

Dare devil went back on after our ride was done.  Gotta pose.

He's been saying "Choo Choo" since we left.  Thankfully, not yet whistling Disney songs.

As Ben absolutely did not leave for Japan this morning, and it's raining for the next zillion days, we've got to fill our time and I don't think G likes obsessively cleaning as much as I do so I guess I'll do that after he goes to bed.

So until then I'm developing games.  Or something.  Getting paint?  Decorating our house?  Actually putting up stockings?  TBD.

I like big boots and I cannot lie.

Someone is obsessed with Dad's boots.  (not me, in case you were wondering.)  Moy moy.  More boots?  Yah!  He wants to walk in them.  Not just standing.  Standing is for lame-o's.

And because I'm an awesome mom, I often repeat "moy" because I think it's cute.  I know it's wrong.  I don't care.  I also am having a glass of wine at 2:20 on a Thursday because... well, I'm also doing 2 jobs in 4 hours a day.  Meaning working hours.  My admin asst is having open heart surgery tomorrow (chest bump to Bobb-o), and so I'm doing both her job and mine.  Oh, and my kid has been napping for approx 1 hour in the afternoons this week.  which means all I've done is eat some frozen waffles and watch Chelsea Lately and some Parenthood.

Um, but how cute is he?  And do these pictures also make you sing, "I like big boots and I cannot lie"?  I haven't made up the rest of the song yet, but it's going to be awesome.

Cheers.

*update.  he's been sleeping 2 hours.  I still have done nothing.  Other than now reference the LAST time I referenced "I like big butts."  Because who doesn't make multiple posts about that?

First world problems.

Here are my current ones.

I want to get G a kitchen.  We don't have space for it.
I want to buy him gifts, but don't want to travel with them for Christmas and travel back with them and really, don't we normally just get him what he needs?
Ben got me this new ipad-ish thing (android based) and I have no stinkin' clue how to use it.  Will I learn how to use this product?  I have no clue how to type on it.  Maybe not everyone searches the interwebs the way I do?  Meaning, I have blogs to read and random things to search for an put in my online "basket" only to not purchase them.  So do I keep it?  Will I learn?  Am I that technologically awful?  I need to edit pictures.

Help me.  Please.

Also considering a glass of wine.  I'm thinking yes, though.

Thanksgiving--a recap.

It happened.  We hosted again only this time I wasn't a sleep deprived gravy train of non-sense.  As much as a mom of a toddler can be, right?  I think that still counts as sleep deprived when your kid still wakes up.  Whatevs, though, whatevs.  I made an adequate amount of food.  The weather was fabs which meant we could sit outside, which meant we weren't crammed inside into a tiny living space, and......... there were drinks.  All in all a kind of fabulous holiday.  (Minus the fact that my nephew woke up puking on Saturday morning... or Friday night.  Technicalities, really.  All I know is that I saw a cone of vomit at least once.  But maybe we can ignore the fact that this happened because it was technically after t-giving.... though it was when my sister and I were going to splurge on pedicures--so nevermind, I'm counting it.)

Bubbles

Post ball throwing.

Uncle Chris.  Despite what it looks like... he does not have Mike Tyson face tats.  Just shadows.

Dada and G

So different from Christmas last year.  (which was a full fledged shit show.)

GQ?

Glammy, Poppy and their grandkids

Glammy, Brooklyn and G$

Glammy and Brooklyn

This is my favorite picture.

Cutie siblings.

Yay

Blue steel

Chase

Baby Brookly (or broo broo as G calls her, and has been saying for 2 days)

Yep.  Red solo cup.  Take it.

Boo. (ladder golf, G$ style)

Cookies.

Ell-Monkey (pre-puking)

Digging with sticks.  G was fascinated by everything Ell does.

Mama and food mooch #1. 

Manny and food mooch #2

Thanks, mama.

I Did it!!!

Best fam photo we could make happen.

My sister told us to be candid so I stuck my finger up his what what.

Did you follow that?

On a side note, my hubs and BIL were throwing tiny airfilled child balls in our backyard before I announced "BALLS ARE ALL DONE" because my husband also pegged my child in the head.  That happened.  I saw it.  G$ also screamed for approx 2 hours on T-giving night.  Less fun.  teeth are bitches.  He is not owning them the way I have taught him.  And finally... a picture from last year to show you how BIG he is.

16 months. I'll drink to that.

Is that inappropriate?  But seriously, I'm having a drink. My baby is a big ol' 16 month old (in mom speak), a little over a year in normal people speak.  He's cute.  He's funny.  He has recently (this week maybe?) learned to throw a FIT (less cute.  but makes me laugh.)  He also has learned to say "gaga" or cracker, which I desperately want to teach him means white people.  I won't, but that's a joy of motherhood, right?  no, I think that's a joy of Aunt-hood--because then it isn't YOUR kid that's weird.  Am I right, Court?

The kids says a lot of words--most of which sound the same, but I know what he's talking about--which is clearly what matters (that and at the doctor's office.  we don't want to fail a test.)  He says toes, nose, eyes, mama, dada, gaga, something weird for sucker, plane, truck, dinosaur (or just sor, lets be real), hi, bye, the more (now pronounced moyyyyy), up, down, blows kisses, doesn't do anything on command, and would like to eat dog food.  And a quarter if I had let him today.  (I didn't, for the record.)  He's started repeating.  Mama needs to start remembering that part.

I can't imagine loving someone more.  He cracks me up.  He pretend falls all of the time.  Still loves for us to feed him.  Doesn't really love meat.  Is obsessed with the dogs.  I worry has OCD (wants to turn on the lights after nap and closes doors), still has all of his teeth and is getting more (yay....), told me he was "stuck" last night when he couldn't get out of his stroller, anddddddddd is having his second Thanksgiving this week.  How is that possible??

2 years ago we announced we were having a baby at T-giving (except for to my sister who I had to tell early so she could cover for me for not having any vino.)  We've come a long way.

Here's a video.