She Likes Purple

Aggieland Sneak Peek

***

We took a less-than-24-hour whirlwind trip to College Station this weekend, but it was so, so nice. Thanks to A'Dell for putting us up for the night and to her family for being so welcoming and warm. 

My family is swell.

More pictures.

August Recap

First, a question:

HOW THE HELL IS IT SEPTEMBER?

It's all a bit mind-boggling, that we have a mere four months left until a whole new year. That means Halloween is right around the corner, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas, THEN 2011, HOLY SHIT.

But, for now, August.

***

This past month I started regularly doing two things I haven't done in as long as I can recall: going to sleep at a reasonable hour and reading.

I've been offline in the evenings just as often as I've been on and let me tell you, as much as I love the internet, there's nothing quite as nice or as vital to one's peace of mind as a good book and an early bedtime.

(Unless that good book keeps you up until 1:30, I'M LOOKING AT YOU HUNGER GAMES.)

***

This month we also didn't eat out (for the most part) and, hey, we didn't die! We made a few exceptions, which I was fine with, but for the most part we ate all our meals from our own kitchen. It basically confirmed something I already knew: we spend entirely too much money on unnecessary meals. 

I'm going to try very, very hard to bring my lunch to work every day and to limit eating out to the weekends, for date nights or special family outings.

***

I've lost 31 pounds this year and have 17 more to go. It feels as if the weight is falling off ever-so slowly and that I'll never reach my goal. It's hard to keep perspective when you plateau, you know?

But, there's this: I enjoy food, I enjoy cooking (here's my September menu, if you care about that kind of thing), I enjoy running. Those are three brand-new things for me. It's hard to say I ever really enjoyed food before, not when there was so much fucked-up guilty aftermath that went along with it.

But, I no longer view food as a crutch or my particular form of self-medication. I feel I've done more for my family in terms of taking care of them and providing meals for them this year than all other years combined, and I feel I've done more for myself this year, as well.

I'm not there yet, no, and that's just frustrating, no way around it. To be close but not quite there.

But I'll get there.

When I do, drinks for everyone!

***

Style Lush continues to blow my mind. The content is just hands-down incredible. We consistently have great giveaways and fun features and the most talented DIYers I know.

Make no mistake, I am not one of them. I just organize all that talent in one place while contributing very little of it.

(Oh, and our one-year anniversary is in October. I'm lining up some great giveaways for that week. If you have a shop or store or hidden talent and want to contribute to a giveaway that week, let me know.) 

***

This month I also: saw Greenday in concert, had a fancy date night with my husband, threw a party, and went to BlogHer.

Phew. Maybe it was less of a low-key month than I thought.

***

Then there's Kyle.

Oh Kyle.

18 months has been, for us, just blissful. (Now 14-15 months was not.) He understands so much, and is so easy to talk to and get through to, and while he's doing all that BEING-A-REAL-PERSON shit, he's still a baby. There's chub, everywhere, and he's still toddling around in diapers and a little wobbly, and so soft and sweet. 

(Although 18 months did bring the toddler feet of doom. THEY SMELL OF DEATH AND ROT.)

He holds my hand, without me asking him to, and while the tantrums are brutal, they're also quick. 

He's talking more, he's laughing more, he's dancing more, he's just more, while still being so little.

He has a sense of humor and while it's a little, uh, strange -- he thinks it's HILARIOUS when we sneeze -- making him laugh has got to be the best thing on the planet. Sorry, boss, can I just quit my job and make my kid laugh for  a living because I appear to be awesome at it?

Every stage is so fleeting, so hard to remember without the help of a blog, so full of highs and lows that if you sit around think about it for very long, you can't help but cry. It's cruel, the way we are given these gifts only to have them morph into something else entirely so soon, but it's so beautiful that they're replaced with something even more amazing.

Missing who he was before is like missing a light while I live with the sun.

 

***

September holds: Kyle's first college football game, my first 10K (and lunch with Natalie), our nephew's birthday party, another birthday party, a handful of other birthdays, and the end of summer. NOT SUMMER TEMPERATURES, THOUGH, OH NO. Texas is an overachiever when it comes to being stupid.

What are you looking forward to this month?

You

 

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I go over and over in my head all my mistakes, all the times I kissed the wrong boy or said the wrong thing or chose self-destruction over choosing better or decided to scream and stomp instead of acting like an adult or did a million other things I can't speak of and I wonder to myself -- with all those mistakes, all those missteps, all that stumbling around in life and love -- how on earth I managed to make you. 

Yet here you are.

Here you are.

Real Marriages: The "Rules" for Surviving a New Baby

Mike and I have a few rules that came out of Kyle's newborn stage, and I think they're genius and everyone should know them. Now, if we only followed them regularly.

They are:

1) If your work schedules will allow, each person takes a weekend morning. We still do this, as best we can. One person gets to sleep in Saturday, the other Sunday.

2) Shift work. If the baby isn't nursing or there's expressed milk, break up the night. For a while, Mike was on shift from 10-2 am and no matter what was going down, those were his hours. I took 2-6 am and the same rules applied.

3) Our biggest trial-and-error rule: no one-upping. You may be a parenting rockstar but you don't actually win anything for reminding your partner you're better at something than he is. (Even if you are.) (Which, come on, you are.)

4) Take a job. I am the only one who has ever cut Kyle's nails after that first time Mike attempted it and there was much bloodshed. He haaaaates doing it and I'm good at it. Well, better, I should say. So I do it. Mike can get Kyle to sleep in five seconds flat whereas Kyle knows how to work me. So, Mike usually puts him to bed when we're both home. We have our jobs. We do them. We praise the other for doing theirs. 

***

I asked my Twitter friends to share their own rules. Here are a few gems:

  

 

Hillary may be childless but she's also brilliant. The phrase "but I did it last time" can only take you down one road and that road is called Fightsville. It intersects with One-Upping Your Way Into a Sexless Corner.

 

Such great rules.

Also, this one:

Smart woman.

***

What are the rules you made during new parenting (or parenting a new baby)?

A Few Family-approved Meals

Kyle's not so much a picky eater as he is an indifferent one. Sometimes he eats a lot (and a wide variety of things at that), but most of the time, he'd much rather be doing something else, like scaling the walls or playing with bugs outside in the 100-degree heat.

A sweltering day outside over carbs inside? If my labor wasn't a vivid memory, I'd wonder who this kid belongs to.

Anyway, if I can get him to eat a meal I've made for him, I'm stoked about it. I've had a little bit of luck lately, so I thought I'd share.

Dishes Kyle Has Asked for More of and By "Asked" I Mean "Signed" Because My Kid is Also Indifferent to Verbal Communication

1. Pizzagna from 30 Minute Meals. This was one of those glorious Rachael Ray recipes that I actually made in 30 minutes. Kyle ate every bite, including the peppers and mushrooms.

2. The Pioneer Woman's Mushroom and Swiss Sliders. I didn't add the spicy sauce to his, though.

3. Gnocchi. I just used the recipe on the side of the box we bought (basically I just poured some spinach and cheese pasta sauce over the prepared gnocchi), but he was practically licking his plate. 

4. Chicken parmesan burgers from Sweetnicks. Okay, confession, this is a parent-approved meal as Kyle didn't actually eat any of it but only because we made it after he went to bed and then proceeded to eat it all. He probably would have liked it! Tip, though: wait to pour the marinara sauce onto the bread until the last possible moment, so things don't get too soggy too quickly.

5. Pizza with brie, proscuitto, and mushrooms from Half-Assed Kitchen. I cut the amount of brie in half and added parmesan in its place. Mainly because I knew Mike would wrinkle his nose if there was too much brie. He's weird about brie. I KNOW, HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? Kyle liked this well enough. Although, come to think of it, he mostly just ate the crust. Still, tasty! Pizza is like a burger. Endless possibilities.

What have you eaten lately that you loved?

I bought a pretty dress and wore it out on the town, with my husband on my arm

A little while ago I reviewed my year list (in my sidebar), so I could think on a few things, make some plans for other things, budget for this or that, and my eyes rested on the item that said "buy a pretty dress and wear it out on the town, with my husband on my arm."

I instantly thought, well, I'll have to wait to meet my goal weight for that one, and I carried on.

Which was pure insanity. And I told myself as much later that same day.

I can buy a pretty dress and have a fancy date night with my husband no matter how much I weigh. Retail stores and restaurants everywhere actually allow this kind of thing, if you can believe that.

I bought a dress. I paired it with some funky shoes. I made some reservations that coincided with DFW's Restaurant Week (and therefore broke our "no eating out" August rule for this one special occasion). I found a babysitter (thanks, mom!). We ate. We drank. We stayed up late into the night watching season four of Dexter. We had a baby-free, delicious meal where we talked about vacations, money, a second baby?, home improvements, work, wine, weight, everything under the sun.

We even had dessert.

I've learned so much this year that I want to write a book about it all. But one thing I've learned that I'll share with you today is this: have fun now.

Waiting to have fun until you fill in your own particular blank is downright stupid. And this is coming from a woman who has spent many, many years making many, many stupid choices.

In fact, one such stupid decision was saying "oh hell, why not?" when the waiter asked if I'd like to opt for the wine pairing with my meal. My three-course meal.

(The buzz was just wearing off as I watched the final minutes of Dexter's season four finale. Or maybe it wore off because of those final moments. Lord, I never thought I could sob so much at a television cliffhanger I ALREADY KNEW ABOUT.)

I had a really wonderful night with my husband despite crying at the end of it. (Next time: Modern Family marathon!) It wasn't perfect (see: crying), nor are we, and I still look at the above photo and wish I had dropped those extra 18 pounds because stupid thoughts still creep into my stupid head no matter how I wish they wouldn't.

The point of this year isn't to be perfect or to even strive to be perfect, no, it's to strive to be better.

And to embrace life every moment along the way to better.

Rare family photo! With my chin cut off! (You take what you can get with a hard-to-wrangle toddler.) (And shit if he doesn't need another hair cut just a month after his first/last.)

Invaluable parenting moment, take a million

I took Kyle to the doctor yesterday morning for his 18-month well check.

He checked out well although he seems to take after his mom in one way: he fucking hates waiting an hour to see the doctor. He showed her this by screaming in her face. Man, wish I could embrace the same response. I believe they escort you out for screaming past a certain age, though.

He's 23 lbs, 32 inches, and has the largest head of any baby I know. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Lean, mean Mensa machine!

Anyway, while we were waiting, Kyle was wobbling around the waiting room, holding two blocks he brought from home. There was an older boy, maybe four, playing nearby and Kyle walked over to him and handed him a block. He was so shy as he approached, looking back at me for reassurance, and when the boy opened his mouth and scrunched his face, my chest tightened up before he had even said the words, "Go away BABY, I don't want to play with you."

I didn't say anything. Or do anything. Although my instinct was to pummel a four year old, I can't lie. Have to let kids process things on their own, without our commentary, my brain said. (My heart was still saying, THAT LITTLE SHIT.)

Kyle stood there for a minute before turning on his heels and offering the block to a (much nicer) little girl.

He let the rejection roll off his back better than I do at 28.

I spend a lot of time wondering what I'll pass to Kyle, what he'll remember, what he'll soak up, what he'll retain and tell his friends or girlfriend or shrink about one day. What will he become because of who I've been around him?

Funny, I don't think as often as I should about all he's teaching me.

At BlogHer I spent hours talking with Jonna and Holly about parenting and babies and how do you know you're ready for one and do you ever regret doing it, because, wow, that shit is permanent.

I left the conversation thinking I hadn't said all I wanted. I had too much wine and I was tired and hot and buzzing from the fun of that first night in NYC, and I couldn't articulate all the good, all the beauty, and now, with some hindsight, I would have said this:

No matter what you have to give up or sacrifice or lose -- and you will have to give up and sacrifice and lose a lot, it's just fact -- it will all unequivocally pale in comparison to how much better and kinder and smarter you will become.

Now when someone is mean to me or unkind or a straight-up asshole, I can think of how my son responded to rejection when he was 18 months old, and it'll motivate me to just try again with someone nicer.

Without him, I'd never have seen it so simply.

Swim Class Dropout

Hey, did I tell you we quit swim lessons? Oh, the drama of the suburban recreation center!

I hate to say we quit because, yeah, quitting doesn't sound as awesome as, you know, KICKING SWIM LESSON'S ASS. But, quit we did. Swim lessons are way tougher than they appear in the rec center catalog.

We have excuses, let me tell you them: Kyle was the youngest in the class by at LEAST six months (some kids were nearly three years old) and he just couldn't grasp half the concepts they wanted him to grasp. For instance, at one point during a meltdown, his teenage teacher said to him, "Kyle! Where do you think Nemo went? Let's go find Nemo, but he doesn't like cranky babies. If you stop crying, Nemo will appear."

Yeah, let me tell you how productive THAT was.

Kyle's never seen Nemo. Kyle's never seen anything on TV that lasts longer than 10 minutes.

Also, his lessons were right around his bedtime. That was my bright idea. To go to 7 p.m. swim lessons. Being a working parent includes work lunches and uninterrupted Pandora time and my own office, but it also means screwing my child out of a well-rested swim lesson.

The guilt! It's palpable!

After the first pretty good day, things got much worse on day two. There was a lot of screaming and a lot of hissed whispers of "stoppppp screammmmming."

For the record, he did not stop screaming.

By the end, he didn't want to be in the water. Making my child hate the water is not what I was hoping to get from these lessons, that's for sure. I can think of a few cheaper ways to give him a phobia.

So, we quit. And the parks and rec manager was lovely about it and gave us a credit and said we could use that credit whenever we wanted, even if that happens to be next summer when Kyle will be able to understand why he can't just play in the water and has to crawl across the wall like a monkey. (AND MAKE MONEY NOISES WHICH HE ALSO DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO DO.)

He does know how to go down the slide and wanted to do that over and over, which his teacher would not even think of letting him do since he was such a horrible pupil and, yeah, you know what we should have done instead of swim lessons? TAKEN KYLE TO THE DAMN POOL.

The worst part was after the class, when all the parents got together with their non-screaming children and exchanged numbers. No one would make eye contact with me. Except for the one dad who stepped on my purse and mumbled an apology.

I cried all the way home. (Granted, we live like four blocks from the pool but STILL. I WAS EMOTIONALLY WOUNDED.) Seriously, I've never felt like a crappier parent. And once, on my watch, Kyle rolled off the couch and smacked his head so hard on the floor we had to go to the ER so he could be cleared of a concussion.

I felt like I had failed him in some way because no one wanted a play date with us. No one even wanted to know our names.

We live in this tiny little town, and there are parents everywhere in our neighborhood, and I want to be friends with all of them. Having neighborhood friends is this weird little dream of mine, and the whole way home I kept thinking, "I'm the mom they're all going to talk about at their next play date. THE ONE I WASN'T INVITED TO."

Oh, and this all went down while I was wearing a bathing suit.

I'm sorry but no one should be that humiliated when they're not wearing pants, am I right?

You know, you live and learn. It sucked, it's over now. I'm not forcing my kid to do things just because I want to say he did them. And I'm sure there are much cooler parents in our neighborhood to hang out with. Parents who know that the best way to deal with a thirty-minute-long toddler meltdown isn't with judgment.

It's with vodka.

20 Fun Things About BlogHer '10

1. My roommate.

2. Meeting Padma Lakshmi. Although I was eating turkey sausage on a stick right beforehand, which Jonna made me stick in her purse. "WE CANNOT MEET HER WHILE EATING SAUSAGE."

3. The Style Lush happy hour. We're just so proud of that site of ours, and it was fun sharing that happiness with some great supporters and friends. (Laurie & Sara, I still owe you a drink!)

4. Getting multiple noise violations for merely talking. Jonna and I are just that badass.

5. Alexa's book party because of 1) Alexa, 2) Alexa's beautiful, exquisite, poetic book Half Baked, 3) CUPCAKES!, 4) wine, 5) the balcony with a serious view, and 5) every single person there, and 6) everything else about it.

6. Meeting Meredith. I turned to her at one point and said, "I just met you the other day but it feels as if I've known you for years." She's calming and smart and classy and she also has the most beautiful and well-behaved baby there ever was.

7. Having dinner with Maura, Kristie, and Jess at Casellula. The adobo chicken wings were as unbelievable as the conversation.

8. Sitting in the hotel bar until 2 am talking to Meagan about creating the life and job you want. Also, she's smoking hot.

9. Champagne! (Although I'd have much preferred if it hadn't been $14 a glass, my god.)

10. Talking about babies with Jonna and Holly for a good hour or so. Holly didn't run away screaming, so I now have even more respect for her than I did before.

11. Sipping drinks and talking fitness, health, and life with Jonna, Kristin, and Kristin's boyfriend Corey until the bartender pulled out the vacuum and turned the bar lights up.

12. Meeting: Sara (she's supermodel pretty, people), Kate (as is she), Alana (who I instantly loved), Anna (she doesn't bite in person, turns out), Linda (fucking hilarious), TwoBusy (he handled all us crazy women quite well, I'd say), Jodi (finally we met!), Sam (so adorable!), Pocklock (she looks damn fantastic for being 30 weeks pregnant), The New Girl (hilarious), Katie (so smart), Yvonne (one of the nicest people I met), Leah (beautiful, inside and out), Tracey (I worked for her for years and was still a bit starstruck), Amy (stunning), Miss Banshee, Amber (both were just so damn kind and nice and looked amazing), Palinode (not surprisingly well-spoken but also really wonderful and warm), Schmutzie (as was she), Annabelle (oh, just amazing), Jen L. (her personality was contagious) and Sarah (so sweet).

(And saw some fun people again: Metalia, Slynnro, Ali, Kristin, Regan, Katie (all too briefly!).

13. The sausage on a stick I mentioned above. It was surprisingly delicious.

14. Nearly flooding our hotel room an hour after arriving. We were steaming some of our clothes via shower steam and somehow the tub got plugged. Five minutes longer and we'd have some mighty serious explaining to do to the front desk. And possibly the floor below us.

15. Paying for panels but not attending a single one. (Okay, that's not fun as much as it is lazy.)

16. Speaking of, sleeping in until almost 10 a.m. each morning. 

17. The art gala where I got to see Natalie's beautiful photo featured (and Laurie's too).

18. Being pleasantly surprised by 99% of the people in attendance. Seriously, people were just nice and kind and willing to shake my hand or hug hello no matter my stats or shoes.

19. Two crab cake sandwiches in four days. Scale, go easy on me tomorrow.

20. The sweaty walk we took around Central Park. It's Central Park, you walk without complaint, am I right?

BlogHer was clearly incredible.

It got me thinking.

One day I'll hand the keys of this site over to my son and it will all be his. While I'm sure some words will straight-up humiliate him, I'm also sure some won't. I write for the part that won't. I write for those words -- however few they may actually total up to be -- that may help him, save him, make him feel understood, make him feel warm, make him laugh, even.

The beautiful thing about blogging is that your readers' words live on, too. So, one day I will gift these hundreds of posts to Kyle, and along with my words, I'll give him yours. 

I may have been a little nervous going into a weekend like BlogHer because of my stats or traffic or (lack of) business cards or any number of stupid fears that bubble up when popularity is involved, but those fears melted almost instantly.

Because I now get to say to him one day that you're all just as loving and supportive and selfless as he'll think you to be.

Thank you for being just as funny, kind, decent, and smart as I thought you'd be. I have friends in all corners of the world. That's a beautiful thing indeed.

Pictures here.

You are 18 months old today

Dear Kyle,

You are eighteen months old today, and I'm on my way to New York City to go to a blogging conference.

(You have a very weird mother. But you probably already know that.)

I wish I wasn't leaving you today because leaving you always sucks, but we'll celebrate your half birthday with chocolate and extended bedtimes and a dance party when I get back. There's nothing your mother quite loves more than celebrating good things.

And you are a very good thing.

You are such a sweet boy, far sweeter than I could have ever imagined you'd be. You are both a wild, reckless, dirt-loving BOY and a gentle, sweet, kind-hearted little man. I don't know how so many different qualities thrive in one tiny human being, but they do, and they make you so very unique.

And so very perfect.

Your dad and I are awed by how adorable you are, and while you are most certainly adorable, with your crazy blond hair and your big brown eyes and a smile that stops people in their tracks, I think a very big part of your charm is the personality that bubbles out of you each day.

You don't talk much. Well, not in any language we understand, but you do talk all the time. You hold conversations with Molly and the wall and your blanket and sometimes you'll just go on and on and then pause, look at us, and wait for an answer. Um, sorry, bud, we're not sure what BLOGODADFFSDFUOOUT ALLLDSDDO means, but it sounds fascinating. Something tells me when you do have a tighter grasp on the English language, you're going to be one helluva storyteller.

We can't wait to listen to all your stories, buds.

Some words you do say, though: DAD (in all caps, just like that, you'll make a very good blogger one day), outside, diaper, flower, mama (occasionally, not nearly as often as I'd like you to), water, ball, bubble, duck, bye-bye, baby, please, all done, thank you (sometimes, usually you just sign it).

You love Molly more than you love anyone or anything. You like to sit on top of her and watch tv or play tug-of-war with her. You like to sit next to her bowl while she eats her dinner, just watching, and I can see the thought bubble above her head saying, "WTF kid, a little room, please?" Seeing you adore her the way you do makes me so happy. She was our girl before there was a Kyle and now she's your girl, too, and it's just a beautiful thing to witness.

You are a beautiful thing to witness.

You understand so much, and it blows my mind. We can rationalize with you, and explain things to you, and you nod and look at us, wide-eyed and trusting. While parenting a baby is something incredible, parenting a person is the most miraculous thing I've ever gotten to do. 

You love blocks and puzzles and books and our car keys and chocolate and driving in the car and Handy Manny and your dad and motorcycles and bagels and your grandparents and music.

You give us hugs and kisses whenever we ask for them, and I know you won't always, so I ask for each 75 different times a day. I try to bottle up those moments, so when you won't acknowledge my existence one day, these memories of you now can keep me company.

You are a ball of love and hope and light and although I'll always love you and will always be here for you and will always be your mama, you are so damn amazing right now, I hope to never forget who you are today.

One thing that surprises me about parenting -- at least my experience of it -- is how gradual it's been. There haven't been that many bolts-of-lightning moments or big, giant epiphanies. It's been this gradual permeation so when I look back there's no real way of distinguishing the person I was before and the person I am now. In fact, I mostly feel like the same person. I just get to hang out with the coolest person alive most of the time. You have woven yourself into our lives in such a natural, beautiful, gentle way, it's kind of hard to believe you haven't always been here.

Oh, but then again, maybe you have.

That's not to say it isn't hard, and it's okay that sometimes parenting (and specifically, parenting you) can be hard. That doesn't make me a bad mom or you a bad kid. Life is just hard, bud, and pretending it isn't doesn't make anyone superior. Who really cares if it's hard. You don't win at life because you thought it was easy. You don't win at life at all. All that really matters is who you love and who loves you and making sure that love is known and felt and trusted.

I don't care if there are meltdowns (from either of us) or fights or disagreements or timeouts or frustrated days or tears. Those are facts of life. All I care about is that you know I love you. That while everything in life feels uncertain and shaky and scary, you can walk around knowing one thing for sure: your parents always and unconditionally love you.

Because we do, Buds.

We loved you then, we love you now, we'll love you for always.

 

(We also love sleeping in, and you've started doing that more and more. You have no idea how much we love you for that. A pony for you one day!)

Love,

Your Mama

In case there was ever any doubt, we are absolutely those parents

5:30 pm: I leave work with plenty of time to get home so we can all ride to Kyle's first swim lesson together.

6:09: It's balls hot outside, here let me show you this picture I took of my temperature gauge while I sat in traffic. (That says 117 degrees. I do not live on the sun.)

6:27: As I turn onto my street, I realize we're out of swim diapers. Which makes SWIM lessons problematic.

6:28: "BABE, I'LL MEET YOU AT THE POOL, MUST GET SWIM DIAPERS," "Uh, okay."

6:30: Zip into Walgreens. Choose the only swim diapers they have, which are both stupid and expensive.

6:31: Get stuck behind a lady who decides Monday, August 2nd will be the day she forgets how to use her debit card. Of course.

6:35: Still made awesome time, so "BABE, NEVERMIND. MEET YOU AT HOME." "Uh, okay."

6:40: Zoom into the house, sweating (see above picture), change out of my jeans into a very breathable skirt, snuggle Kyle for .5 seconds because WE MUST GO, EVERYONE IN THE CAR.

6:45: Pull out of our driveway. Bitch the entire half mile to the pool about how hot it is.

6:50: Park, start walking toward the pool when Mike says, "You grabbed the towel on the couch, right?" "Uh, no." "Why not?" "I didn't see it!" "It was right there!" "Well, if I had seen it, do you think I would have decided not to bring it to SWIM LESSONS?"

6:53: I get back in the car to go retrieve the towel.

6:55: To his defense, it was right there on the couch.

6:59: I MADE IT! I AM NOT A BAD MOTHER!

7:00: Swim lessons did not start on time, I'd like it noted.

7:03: In the pool. Kyle's in heaven.

7:10: I've taken 50 pictures, have 15 mosquito bites, and have watched the very sweet, very enthusiastic teenage instructor try to coax my 18-month-old into repeating the "no running around the pool" rule to her. Yeah, lady, that's not gonna happen.

7:15: Pride oozes out of me as my 18-month-old climbs out of the pool by himself, the correct way. (One elbow, the other elbow, one leg, the other leg.)

7:17: No, really, he cannot repeat pool rules, lady. STOP TRYING.

7:20: First and only meltdown. Thankfully there's a rogue four-year-old who's wandered over to our class and is LOSING HIS MIND because he cannot climb the slide. It's drowning out my kid whining because he does not want to blow any more bubbles.

7:30: Class is over. I mentally imagine introducing myself to all the other parents so I can add more "friends with kids near Kyle's age" to my circle, but I chicken out and just smile instead. (There are another two weeks left of class. Plenty of time to muster the courage.)

7:31: I tell Kyle how good he was in class, and he claps for himself for the next 15 minutes.

7:32: We can't remember where we parked. Mike tries to convince me we now have a navy blue Jeep instead of a black one.

7:33: Mike is wrong.

7:35: Sweet, sweet air conditioning.

July Recap

July was batshit insane.

Which is par for the course with us.

(Seems I kind of like it that way. Mike wishes I didn't.)

I flew to Portland. I flew to San Diego. I squeezed in some runs where I could. I lost a writing gig. I gained perspective. I connected, I ate, I lounged on the couch and watched old Veronica Mars episodes and new True Blood ones.

I played with my son. (And finally cut his too-long hair.)

I sipped wine under the hot sun and held my husband's hand.

I realized that true friends leave out guilt from conversations and they instead insist on encouragement. (I guess learning this at 28 is better than learning it at 29 or any year thereafter.)

Molly turned seven, and she's still our favorite dog on earth. (She's Kyle's favorite anything on earth.)

I have big plans for August and those plans include slowing the hell down (right after I take a quick trip to NYC for BlogHer). I'll also be taking Kyle to swim lessons, organizing my kitchen, cooking at home way more than I did in July (since we're not eating out this month), putting my feelers out for a new writing gig I can be passionate about, and running as often as I can since my 10K is next month.

Maybe we'll throw a party. Maybe we won't.

Some other things I'd like to do: finally learn to poach a damn egg, go to a concert, not melt into a puddle during Texas' hottest month, read three books, bake, dance with Kyle, and kiss my husband for no reason other than I still like kissing him.

Kyle's a dream, my husband's such a decent human being I'm constantly inspired by him, my house is usually in shambles but it's still a pretty happy place to be, and I am thankful everyday for air conditioning, my son's grandparents, Netflix, and the Food Network.

Life is sweet.

Here's to August.

We're covering a lot of ground in this post including books, music, blogging, and toddlers

First, a big thank you for all your kind words and emails yesterday. It seemed a little weird writing about at first, but you're never anything but supportive. It always means so much. Seriously, thanks.

***

If you've been following my sidebar list (because my to-do list should totally be a priority for you), you know I try to discover a new band or artist once a month. If you don't follow the list, well now you also know.

Anyway, no lie, all the musicians I've listed have come from one of two places: 1) Pandora or 2) CW shows, most likely One Tree Hill.

But have you discovered any great new music you'd like to tell me about? 

***

Kyle's transitioning from the pre-toddler to toddler room at school and he's ... uh ... not handling it so well. He loves his current class and his teacher so much that I drop him off happy as can be, playing with his friends and waving goodbye, and I pick him up in the other room where he's hanging onto the window that separates the rooms SOBBING and POINTING, like get me the fuck where I belong people.

The teachers are all very reassuring that this is totally normal and he'll be fine in a couple weeks but. AH. MY HEART. IT HURTS.

I hate seeing him upset and, yeah, I hate paying for him to be so upset, especially when he was really thriving in his room. I understand he can't stay in the pre-toddler room forever, he's one of the oldest as it is, but maybe they could just move the teacher with him? Keep him in the same room and move all the other toddlers to him? That's not crazy or demanding or weird to request, right?

But, tell me, did your kids have a hard time transitioning rooms at their day care/pre-school?

***

I'm going to BlogHer next week. WILL I EVER STOP TRAVELING AND LEAVING MY CHILD WITH OTHER PEOPLE WHO LOVE HIM? It's also become so much harder to leave him now that he's older and fun and able to give me kisses and hugs goodbye. And punish me upon my return. Oh, hey, I'll just be over here preferring my dad to you, MOTHER.

Anyway, if you're going to be at BlogHer, please say hello. Here's a picture of me, so you know who to approach and hand a glass of champagne to.

I hope to meet you, all of you, and I also hope you'll swing by the small happy hour the Style Lush editors and writers are hosting.

We'll be in the Lobby Lounge of the Hilton Hotel at 5 p.m. on Saturday, August 7th. 

(Feel free to also email me for my cell number, in case you'd like to meet up at any other point over the weekend.)

***

Randomly, any good books you've been reading? I'm on a reading kick. I haven't said that in three years.

Baby boy gone

We finally cut his hair.

From this:

To this:

(And then he promptly fell on his face in the front yard. Notice the forehead bruise on the right side of his head?)

(But he's pouting in this picture because I wouldn't give him more dessert, not because he fell.)

(What kind of mother won't give her son more dessert after he falls on his face?)

Anyway, I don't know why cutting his hair was such a ridiculously big deal to me. It's so cliche! And, trust me, I used to mock plenty of people who'd write posts about being unable to cut their precious baby boy's hair. Ridiculous, I'd think. It's hair and they look homeless. Just cut it.

But I didn't want to cut Kyle's. I thought he looked just fine with shaggy hair that would hang below his shoulders when wet. Homeless worked on him, I thought. Even if he was called a girl by more people than I can count on one hand.

You hold on to what you can, I guess, and I was holding on to that hair. 

Mike found a piece of food in it the other day from a meal he had eaten the day before.

There was day-old food stuck in my son's hair and no one had noticed.

(We don't give him a bath every night because we might be sentimental as hell, but we're also cursed with a lazy streak.)

"I think it's really time to cut it, babe." Mike said this quietly to me because we've been together a while now and he knows that his wife is crazy and you have to be careful with crazy people sometimes.

(That's my wise life lesson of the day. You're welcome.)

I sighed, really loudly, and he braced himself.

"Okay. Fine."

He looked surprised. Hell, I was surprised myself.

You can't argue with half-eaten bagel, I suppose.

So, we finally cut his hair. No promises we won't wait another year and a half to do it again.

Briefly standing still

This month has been (and will continue to be until it's over) plain insane. I cram a lot into my days, my life, and that's kind of how I prefer it, but this month went from kinda busy to HOLY SHIT WHAT JUST HAPPENED pretty quickly. If I let it, this month will fly be without me even noticing, without me even taking one second to slow down and enjoy some truly enjoyable things.

Like....

The sunset in Portland.

Kyle and I having a dance party in our living room this past weekend.

Closing my laptop to finish a book.

Mike and I squeezing in a date night to see Eclipse this weekend and having an hour to kill before the movie started, so we people watched the time away. (While Mike drank the biggest blue raspberry slushie I've ever seen.)

Enjoying a nice German dinner with my mom.

Meeting bloggers in person and no longer worrying about those meet-ups beforehand.

Bloody Marys with one of my best friends. 

Crawling into Cherie's guest bed at 10 pm, which is the earliest I've gone to bed all year, I'd bet.

Leaving the house to run some errands this past weekend and then having to turn around and go back because we forgot something. When we pulled into the drive no more than five minutes after first leaving, Kyle got SO FREAKING EXCITED to be home, screeching and laughing, like MAN, I LOVE THIS PLACE. Eh, he's a toddler, who knows what he was really thinking, but that's all I've ever wanted for him, to associate his home with happiness.  

The incredibly kind ticket agent with Southwest Airlines. Good customer service is rare. I won't forget him anytime soon.

Snickers 90-calorie ice-cream bars. Delicious.

Top Chef nights with Mike.

Sitting outside The Four Graces winery, talking to Cherie about work and life and getting tan. 

Mike letting me sleep in till 11 am this past Saturday. That man deserves things I can't talk about on this blog.

Our new baby nephew, who was born last week. We have so many boys in our family, it's unreal, but they're each such a perfect fit.

Life is spinning fast right now. But not too fast that I can't hold still when I need to.

***

I leave for San Diego Wednesday, and I look forward to standing still a little bit while I'm gone. If you're in the area, come visit my company at a meet-and-greet party this Saturday night at the House of Blues in downtown San Diego. (Click on the link for more details.)

We don't worry

Our long weekend was really nice, although Kyle may have acted possessed a handful of times.

(Aside: I'm starting to figure out that managing Kyle's tantrums has much more to do with my response to them than anything else. If I can muster patience and a little sense of calm, he is so much easier to handle. But, yeah, I'm not always patient or calm. Sometimes I spit fire. No one hates that more than me.)

Anyway, he handled the fireworks like a champ, and he enjoyed the hell out of a grape popsicle at our town's Fourth of July celebration, so I labeled the day a success.

He's all, why the hell do they shoot these things off past my bedtime? I need a snuggle and my blanket.

***

Something I noticed this past weekend while around lots of other kids is that Kyle really isn't talking much. He has some words, sure, and he understands just about everything that's said to him. (Mike told him to come give me a kiss after a recent time-out, and he walked into the kitchen, asked to be picked up, and kissed me. FORGIVEN!)

But, he doesn't say "no" or "dog" or "car" or lots of other words kids his age say.

I think this is a case of him being just a little behind, like he was with walking. He identifies about 50 different things in his "I Spy" books by pointing, so the wheels are turning. And he says the most random things: like "outside" and "flower" and "boom" (when he falls down) and "thank you." But, not "no." Or even "mama" that regularly.

Yeah, he's quirky.

The thing is, I'm not worried.

Months ago I was asking his pediatrician about something -- probably his chronic ear infections -- and I said, "Are you worried?" And she looked me straight in the eyes and said, "We don't worry. We solve problems."

She gave me such a gift with that one conversation.

I've spent so much of my life worrying about more things than I could list, and although I'm not a fool to think I won't worry like it's my job over things to come, I don't do Kyle (or myself) any good by worrying.

I shortchange him genuine quality time with his mother. I give him memories of my brow furrowed. I convey to him that there's something wrong with his life because I'm trying to change it when, other than normal bumps along the way, our path is pretty golden.

Whenever Mike or I ask him for a kiss, he happily obliges, but he always insists on kissing the other afterward. I like to think he already knows we're okay apart, but we're so much better together.

We're a team, the three of us.

I'm not worried. Oh, we're so good.

June recap: The month of a million firsts and a million degrees

(Hey, if you want, you can check out my recaps for January, February, March, April, and May. Not sure why you'd want to, but there are the links for easy clicking.)

***

Other than the temperature outside (balls hot), June's been pretty nice to us. Man, I hope this isn't an ebbs and flows kind of thing because I'd like July to be nice, too. And every month after that. AM NOT GREEDY, SHUSH.

Anyway, let's get to recapping, yo!

First, my ass. Why not start there? It's shrunk! A little! If you're following along with my weight-loss calendar at The Stir, you know I've officially lost 28 pounds since January 1st and have about 20 left to lose. I've given myself a goal end date of January 1, 2011. Six more months to go!

I also ran 25 miles this month, and that proves I can technically run a marathon. As long as the volunteers don't mind moving to the event site for a month.

I've said this before, I'm sure, but man I enjoy running. More than I ever thought I would or could, and it's officially become my go-to exercise of choice.

I still want to do more, though, and I wrote this post of 5 activities I'd (eventually) like to try/sign-up for. I'm not kidding about ballet, either.

***

This month we also did a few things for the first time. We went to the Dallas Farmers Market, which we were blown away by. We also took Kyle to Sea World, which was magical. (It also made me excited to take him to Disney World one day.) And Mike and I took a sushi cooking class, which was something I've always wanted to do. (Sushi pictures!)

When Mike and I first started dating, we used to excitedly announce when something was the first thing. The first time we walked to class together, first movie date, first road trip, our first fight, even. Eventually all those firsts faded because after 6 years together, it can feel like you've done all there is to do.

It's nice to remind ourselves that there's still a world of firsts for us to experience together.

***

Oh, and Mike got in a motorcycle accident. That part of the month sucked ass, but he's okay! He's in one piece! We're practicing gratitude instead of panicky, motorcycles-are-death-mobiles sentiments.

(I don't think that, by the way, no matter how shaken his accident might have made me.)

***

I'm also enjoying my Real Marriages series, especially since I've had some amazing guest posts (and more to come) and spotlighted some stunning posts elsewhere. In the coming weeks, we're going to tackle how couples fight, in-law fun, and who handles the finances and why.

If you want to see a topic covered, comment or email. I'd love to hear what you'd love to hear.

***

I also have loads to say about some other topics: updates on our budget, updates on meal planning and grocery shopping, some thoughts on friendship, too. If you care about those things, I'll be writing on them soon.

***

Then there's Kyle.

He's both the most stunning, inspiring, hilarious human being I've ever known and the reason I have sprouted gray hair recently.

He is either driving me mad or making me look up how much a pony would cost because HE SO DESERVES A PONY.

He's saying some words (flower, outside, duck, water, thank you), but he's not saying enough to alleviate how frustrated he gets when he wants me to understand something he's trying to express, and since I don't speak whacked-out toddler, I look at him with a confused expression a lot. I imagine your own mother not understanding what you need and want would drive you to shriek at the top of your lungs. Scratch that, I don't imagine, I know because THAT'S WHAT HE DOES. THAT IS A FACT.

The timeouts, they have begun.

But he hugs and kisses when you request one of either. He knows how to "be gentle" and he's working on that with Molly. He holds my hand when I request him to, as we walk to the mail box each evening. He waves "hello!" to everyone he sees, and he just learned the itsy-bitsy spider in class the other day, which is really just him smashing his fingers together.

He rarely sits still, but he can spend a half hour just looking at one book, over and over. He knows where the birds and horses and cows are in his favorite book. He is nearly obsessed with ladybugs. He thinks playing tug of war is hilarious, HE CANNOT STOP LAUGHING.

He is starting to prefer me to almost anyone, except both his grandmas. He nearly pushes me out the door when either of them are around. PEACE MOM, WE'RE GOOD, BYE NOW.

He loves motorcycles (hold me) and he does vroom noises when he sees them.

Being his mother kicks ass. Sometimes it kicks my own ass, but mostly it's just this awesome, fun ride I get to be on every single day.

***

Lord, this is long.

***

July is going to be crazy. We have family in town for July 4th, and we'll see how Kyle does at his first fireworks display. We have a few fun date nights planned. I have a work trip to San Diego. And I am determined to lose a few more pounds, learn how to poach an egg, and read a couple books.

What do you have planned for July? And how was your June. (I genuinely like to hear, so share.)

Sea World sneak peek

We visited some family this past weekend and that visit included a trip to Sea World.

I used to pity families I'd see carrying three bags, a stroller, and a screeching baby around a steaming hot amusement park. Why would anyone pay for that kind of torture when you could stay home, not carry a thing, and lock the baby in a padded room?

I thought parents were insane.

Then, this weekend, a killer whale jumped out of the water mid-afternoon and my son started clapping, unprompted, before anyone else around us. It was instinctual, and it was amazing.

We had so much fun, I can't believe the same boy we hung out with all weekend was the same boy I was wringing my hands over last week.

It was hot and tiring, and Kyle didn't get a nap the whole day and my feet hurt and we paid $8 for a salad that was truly disgusting. And that was the cheapest part of the day.

And I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Parents really are insane.

I hope your weekend was as magical as ours.

(Here are more pictures from the weekend, but you must be a flickr friend to view.)

This too shall pass?

I can usually tell if Kyle isn't feeling well if he wakes up during the night, even if it's just to squawk in my face and maybe point at things angrily. If he sleeps well, he's usually well. So, I don't think he's sick or teething right now, but, man, has he been difficult the last few days.

Yes, children just keep getting better and better and I've never known love like this before and he's so freaking cute, how is it legal?, but, seriously, parenting ain't all perfection and bliss. Whoever says it is may be drunk. Or on many consecutive business trips.

I've opened eBay a handful of times this week and just perused their site policies. Perhaps there's a loophole they didn't think of and I could just loan him to someone well-meaning until this whining, tantrumy, hating-all-things-including-being-FED-and-CHANGED-and-CARED-FOR stage has passed.

It will pass, won't it?

I get all doom and gloom when he's had a challenging week. I genuinely start to think, this is just how it is now, isn't it? HE'S GOING TO BE IMPOSSIBLE TO PLEASE FOREVER, PASS THE VALIUM.

And it's not like that's a true impossibility since there are a few people on both sides of the family who may have passed that impossible-to-please gene down to him.

(Not me though. Lord no. I'm a ray of sunshine, always.)

I look forward to picking him up so much on the days I work I'm almost buzzing with excitement when I pull up to his school. And it's such a kick in the crotch when he's cranky from the moment he sees me. He's all pick me up, no put me down, no give me that, I want your keys, NO I DON'T, NO NO NO, UH UH UH, cry, whine, hit Molly, whine, cry, point point point, sign "more" over and over without really wanting more of anything except maybe more blood to seep out of his mother's ears.

Do you know how hard it is to spend the few hours a day I have with Kyle just trying to control my frustrations and communicate with him effectively and tap into reserves of patience I truly don't have?

It's unbelievably hard.

And it's sad, too, because Mike and I both work so hard to give Kyle a good life, and it can be emotionally defeating when our good intentions morph into "let's just make it to bedtime without losing our cool, and consider it a successful day."

I know, it's just been a week. That's nothing! Life with a toddler is a roller-coaster: highs, lows, twists that make you want to puke. You have to roll with it, or you'll get clobbered by it. I know this, rationally.

But, emotionally? I collapse onto the couch after he's gone to sleep and think, those weren't good memories we just made. And that really sucks.

I'm not really sure why I wrote this, maybe for advice? Sure, give me advice, why not, but mostly for some commiseration.

Because that's really all that gets me through sometimes, knowing I'm not alone.

You have no idea how much I've been able to handle in life simply because one other person reached through their computer screen and said, "Yeah, me too."

Confession

Sometimes it's hard to tell if I don't want another baby because I simply like our family of three, and this really works for us, or because I know I'm not strong enough to go through another year of trying and tests and Clomid and ovulation kits and having sex when a calendar tells me to.

We got lucky with Kyle.

I fear we would never get that lucky again, if we ever again tried.

I'm even more afraid my fears are valid.

Maybe I am perfectly okay with one, thank you very much, and he's everything I'll ever need and we can travel easier and it's cheaper and our house is too small anyway and two kids in day care, you're shitting me, right?

Or maybe I'm too afraid of wanting more.

Because wanting more seems like an awfully good way of breaking my own heart.