She Likes Purple

Define handmade

On my Things to Do in 2010 list, I have "make Kyle a birthday banner by hand."

So, putting this to a vote: does it count if it was indeed made by hand, just not by my hand? My best friend Natalie (and her mom and Granny) made this for Kyle, and displaying it made me ridiculously happy and not at all stressed out, which are signs of a great craft project, don't you think?

Can I put a line through this list item or not?

Does it help that I made these cake balls all by myself, only getting assistance from my dad and husband during the tasting portion of the recipe?

 

(Recipe here. Not for those concerned about their pants fitting the next day, by the way.)

Tell it to me straight. Although, I have a few cake balls left over if you tell me what I want to hear.

Runner

Today, I forked over $48.50 for my first 5K, happening end of March. If you want to run with (or, most likely quite faster than) me, the details and some more thoughts from yours truly can be found at Bodies in Motivation today.

I don't know if I've mentioned this, but growing up my dad was a race director in San Francisco, and my family was part of a running organization (who, wow, are still around and have a website). He directed the San Francisco Marathon and lots of other races, too, and that running group was my family. I spent holidays and birthdays with them and many of them even came to my wedding, years and years after I left California. For many, Sunday is a day to worship, but for most of my childhood Sunday was a day to rise early and go to a race. I rarely ran though and when I did run, even as a kid, I walked a lot of it. Running never came easy to me, although both my parents used to run often.

Some people have no desire to run or to exercise through running, but it's always been a (seemingly hard to reach) goal of mine.

I know what a running community looks and feels like. I just don't know what it looks and feels like to be a runner.

Last night, although it was only three straight minutes before switching to a fast-paced walk as part of my Couch to 5K intervals, it was the first time in five weeks I felt this goal wasn't crazy and that somehow, someway I would be able to do this.

One day I'll be a runner.

January recap

We had to take Kyle to the doctor on Friday (again, my god) because he had pinkeye and some bad allergies. The doctor looked through his file and then at us and said, "He has been here a LOT this month." Yep, he sure has and that about sums up our January: GROSS. Also: cold.

Huh, I wonder if one has to do with the other?

Our pipes froze and broke, our gas bill went through the roof (and then kept going, HA HA SHOOT ME), the temperature outside plummeted to 11 degrees at one point and we all suffered through with colds and pinkeye and ear infections and strep and HI FEBRUARY, BE NICE TO US, OK?

It's so easy to dismiss an entire month because of some low points, and seeing the silver lining of a few days in January is hard, folks. Especially that one day when it was 48 degrees in our house.

But.

I lost eight pounds this month, through much better eating and regular workouts. I started a new role at work, which I'm thrilled about. (See!) I had a fun birthday party thrown for me. I went to the movies solo, and that was more fun than my 15 year old self would be comfortable admitting. I collaborated with this talented lady on an online book club that is 300+ members strong. I had an incredible date night with Mike for my birthday and our six-year anniversary. Kyle officially said his first word (ball!). 

Life is good even when it's not, you know?

I'm excited for February, too. We're hosting Kyle's first birthday party this weekend, and Mike and I have a night-away trip planned for Valentine's and I'm kicking up my 5K training, too.

What are you excited about doing in February?

The Blathering Part Dos

I may have mentioned The Blathering once or twice before. The Blathering being the awesome blogging meet-up event I went to this past fall in Sacramento. It was one of my 2009 highlights, and thankfully the ladies in charge are way more organized and talented than I am, since they already have a weekend and location carved out for The Blathering 2010 Edition. You should really hire these ladies if you're looking to get shit done. They get shit done and then they make a website and then they cook dinner. They're the kind of people I'd like to be when I grow up.

If you'd like to follow the happenings of this weekend, sign-up to attend yourself or just bookmark the site in case you're considering making the trip to CHICAGO! this fall, this is the website for you.

The Blathering's Official Website Because Maggie Kicks So Much Ass

There are like nine gazillion blog conferences around the country each year and they all appeal to the side of me that likes drink tickets and organized itineraries, but if you're looking for something a little different, a little more inclusive and laid back where you don't have to worry about drinking too much or what you're wearing, this is absolutely the trip for you. 

There may also be line dancing in a gay bar. You just never know.

Because she reads this site every day and deserves a shout-out every now and again

With so much happening in the next few weeks, I was afraid taking the time and finding the space to say something really important would escape me, so I'm doing it now when I should be doing laundry (story of my life: I do almost everything when I should be doing laundry).

This past year has been incredible and stunning in its hugeness (baby! house! car! trips! new website! huge new role at work!), but when I look back on it, I know it would have been impossible without a few things and none of those consist of my patience, that's for damn sure. But there's one thing in particular and that would be my mother.

I don't know how often I really talk about her, but it's not (nor will it ever be) enough. She has taken Kyle every, single time I've asked, so I could nap or go out with my friends or go out with my husband or go to Vegas (no, really) or go to the movies alone. She's done it gladly and enthusiastically and when I talked to her at one point from our hotel room in Sin City, she said, "I just want to thank you for giving me this time with him. I feel so lucky." I was already two tequila shots into the night, so the tears were damn near impossible to stop, but her sentiment wasn't shocking or out of character. That's just my mom.

My mom brings me champagne when I ask and buys me the good gifts off my wish lists and tells me how much she admires me, which makes me a wee bit worried about her, I won't lie. My mom doesn't care if I say fuck and doesn't tell me to be anyone but who I am. She tells me I'm a good mom, which is the very best compliment you can give me, probably the very best compliment you could give any mom, you should know.

I say all this mostly because the road our relationship has taken has been rocky at times and rocky is a really, really nice way of putting it. We've both hurt each other and said hateful things and betrayed the other. Yet, if I called her now, at nearly midnight, she'd hop in her car and be here as quickly as possible. No matter what it is I needed from her.

More than anything though, when she walks in our front door and sees Kyle, her love for him is written all over her. I don't even light up the way my mom does when she sees him, and that's something I am able to give him that my own parents were never able to give me. My two grandmothers weren't loving or even present in my life, and if you ever wonder why I don't just shut the hell up about how much I dislike Texas and just, you know, MOVE, I'll remind you of two women: my mother and Mike's. It's why weren't not going anywhere, at least not for a little while. I won't take away from him what I was never fortunate enough to have.

I've said it to my mom before, and because I know she doesn't always believe me when I say nice things, I want to say it again on the Internet because I'm pretty sure that makes it Official Truth: we'd be so damn lost without her.

Kyle would be so lost without you, mom, and we're all just ridiculously lucky to have you.

Also, bring champagne tonight. Thanks!

Perfect

One anti-silver lining of voracious blog reading is that you begin to measure your own life (or marriage or kid or insert any ol' noun here) against the lives (or marriages or kids or insert any ol' noun here) of others, and although this is normal, it's also dangerous because if you measure often enough, you're bound to come up short against someone.

At a pediatrician's appointment once, I mentioned Kyle wasn't sitting up yet, and I was a little worried about it. My doctor looked at me, confusedly, and said, "Worried? Who said he should be sitting up now?" I shrugged my shoulders, possibly mentioned Google, but what I really meant was Google READER because although I had no idea when the average baby sits up, I knew that so-and-so-blogger's baby sat up at four months old. And let me tell you, dear friends, this type of thinking is the first step toward Crazyville. Who does this? Other than INSANE people?

I've been walking around the house lately, fretting over Kyle not clapping, not saying "ball" clearly enough, not calling me "Mama" yet, not walking yet. Who knows when he'll hit these milestones. I do know, though, that measuring him against any other baby is the worst possible thing I can do for him, for us.

Someone super wise and someone I find myself turning to a lot these days as my parenting mentor recently said, "What would it really matter? It won't change how much you love him."

And then I cried.

Because it's true, and it's always been true. What I had to admit (to her, to myself) is that it's not MY feelings or even KYLE'S feelings I worry over (it's a happy, albeit messy, home most of the time). It's yours, theirs, everyone else's.

It's the quality I hate most about myself. The quality that sometimes takes my focus out of my own, love-filled home and puts it out there, onto what others think.

I don't know when Kyle will walk, talk, clap his hands. But, man, he's so much more than milestones. He's perfect. And if you don't agree, I'm going to quit giving a damn about you.

This and that

Loose ends no longer loose and all that jazz.

I wrote this and this and then nothing else. That was annoying of me, so let me update you. I've been training for my first 5K for a couple weeks now. I've been running (and walking) using the Couch to 5K program. I've also been enjoying my new Wii Fit and have pretty much forgiven the bitch for calling me obese. I've also been letting Jillian Michaels have her way with me during the 30-Day Shred. This seems like a lot, and over at MamaPop where the writers are partaking in a Biggest Loser-esque challenge, it was mentioned I might be doing too much, which is slightly laughable if you're in my gym or living room with me. I'm finally working out regularly, but I'm easing into things, just as I should.

I've picked out my first two 5Ks, though, and I thought I'd share in case any of you are in the area and want to join me. My first is the Zooma 20K Relay in Austin at the end of March. Then, another, on Mother's Day closer to home.

The jury's still out on the Big Sur Half-Marathon in November. The Blathering will be that month, in addition to an out-of-town wedding. Also, since Mike and I want to take a just-us getaway to Santa Fe this spring, I may need to plan one closer to home. There's one in San Antonio mid-November and also one in Austin in December. We'll see. (Anyone down for those instead?)

******

Book Lushes are knocking out 12 of my 20 to-read books this year, thank you Jonna, but I haven't started the The Help yet because I HAVE NOT RECEIVED IT OMG. I ordered it the day it was announced, along with The Grapes of Wrath on a whim, and apparently they're sending Steinbeck's classic from1939 because the two aren't scheduled to arrive until NEXT TUESDAY. Amazon, what's up?

******

We're getting excited about Kyle's birthday party around these parts, and, yes, I'm one of those obnoxious mothers who is planning quite the get together for a party the guest of honor won't remember. But here's the thing, I'm celebrating Mike and me just as much as Kyle, call me selfish, but we all made it! Our family, together, made it a year! That's party worthy, in my book.

******

This weekend, I knocked out a couple more 2010 list items. You can see the neat lines drawn through a few things to the left. What I love about my list is that so many of the items are things I can knock out in a weekend, I've just never put forth the effort to do so before. I read my list once a day to remind myself of the things I've always wanted to do but have just been too lazy or complacent to go after.

On Saturday my mom came over to watch Kyle for a bit, and although it wasn't part of the plan, I asked her to watch him a little while longer so I could go to the movies by myself. She said she didn't mind because my mother is incredible and genuinely enjoys spending time with Kyle, thank everything for her. Now, in the past, I would have called a dozen or so friends to invite them along to the movies, but on Saturday I just spent the afternoon with myself and it was lovely.

Comfort zones are funny things. It's not that I've ever been against going to the movies alone (or all the other things I haven't done on the list), I've just never done them. Going to the movies solo isn't something I've ever thought about in the moment, only in hindsight, and this silly little list has allowed me to make my moments what I want them to look like in hindsight. It's such a cool thing, let me tell you.

Here's my almost-one year old wearing his Bacon! shirt from Kristin. He's smiling about something, probably the thigh-high slit in Jennifer Aniston's Golden Globe's dress.

You there?

I ask you to comment a lot, I know. What can I say, I'm a sucker for reassurance. But Twitter and my feed reader tell me it's an official day to delurk, so why I am indeed annoying, no question, so is the rest of the blogging world today.

I can't remember how I officially met some of my favorite blogging friends, but I can be pretty certain all those friendships started with a comment. One of us reaching out and telling the other person they were rad or smart or cool or downright funny. Probably funny. Now, a few years later, I've met plenty of those people face-to-face, traveled to hang out with them, sent and received baby gifts and g-chated with them for hours.

Who cares if one person has more Twitter followers or a catchier blog name. How many real, honest-to-god FRIENDS care about your blog stats. Not many, I'd guess.

I like to make it easy for you, you're welcome, so in the spirit of one of my 2010 list items, what's your favorite classic book and classic movie?

(Sure, some of you have answered on Twitter or Book Lushes, but go ahead and tell me again.)

I'll tell you mine, that's only fair. Book: 100 Years of Solitude. Movie: This Property is Condemned, if that counts.

Eleven months

Dear Kyle,

ELEVEN. MONTHS. That would be one month before twelve months and that's....well, that's nearly a year old, is what it is. I know I'm going to be a mess next month, so let me say this now: I remember so clearly, so vividly, where I was and how I felt when I wrote this letter to you two days before I said hello to you face-to-face. I remember the fear, more than anything else, because it dawned on me that day that I had no clue what I was doing. Before that I always had time in front of me to properly freak out and on that day, I didn't have much time. SO I FREAKED OUT. Depending on what day you ask your father, he may say I haven't really stopped freaking out since. I still have no clue what I'm doing.

I imagine I'm still guessing by the time you read this, too.

Yet, somehow, we're here. Eleven months later with you in one piece and me in one piece.

We're making it.

We had Christmas this month! And you were over the gifts about five minutes in, which is why we got you a total of three things, four if we're counting stocking stuffers, and I hope, hope, hope we continue to keep our Christmases light on GIFTS! and WRAPPING PAPER! and TOYS! and heavy on the three of us baking and looking at lights and playing and snuggling and being super lazy on the couch together. We tried to start a lot of traditions this year, because it was your first year and that's a big deal to me, but the most important tradition is the one where we have a nice day together, no drama, no guilt, no stress. Just us.

We also went to California this month, to visit some family and see the place I grew up, and about an hour into the trip, as we were stuck on the runway and you were screaming and the eyes of those around us glared down on me, I decided giving you these fun adventures was totally and completely overrated. NEVER TRAVELING AGAIN! I said to Mike, and I HATE TODAY! I said to anyone who would listen, but then we took you to a museum during our visit and to the zoo and to meet my favorite people, who you may not have met otherwise, and although I am very good at freaking the hell out and wringing my hands, I'm also very good at not letting those reactions stop me from doing things anyway. The flight back, I should say, was a freaking dream. The Universe is funny.

One other fun milestone was the welcoming of a new year and a new decade. 2010! What a fun ring that has? We decided to wake you up right before midnight, and I know a few mothers need to pick their mouths up off the floor, but your dad and I are weird, and we thought it'd be fun to have you with us as the clock struck midnight. You were in such a good mood and were all, "Hey, guys! What's up? Where's the party at?" And we kissed you and yelled "HAPPY NEW YEAR BUDS!" and you beamed and laughed and then went back to sleep ten minutes later. When I think of how lucky I am to have you, to know you, to be YOUR mom, I'll think of that night.

You get angrier and more woeful these days when things aren't handed right to you or when things are taken away from you and there's nothing cuter or funnier than a nearly one year old throwing a tantrum, so forgive us for all the times we've laughed directly at you when you are flailing about. You're just so cute when you're all red-faced and angry! That'll grow old, I KNOW, probably next week even, but you're a funny kid, no matter what mood you're in. I have Mom Eyes, no way around it. But, yeah, I'll be reminding you constantly of how losing that last Goldfish isn't exactly worth all those tears.

You also wave "BYE!" and lay your head down on any nearby surface when you're sleepy and throw your Cheerios or goldfish onto the floor, so you can see Molly race to retrieve them. You love the bath so much and literally try to climb into it if we don't put you in fast enough. You play better by yourself and love your soccer ball the most. Your hair is getting longer and crazier and you are still the dirtiest child I have ever met. I can't keep up with the dirt and caked-on food and snot and pieces of grass left in your hair. Oh, I love it about you though. My boy! My son!

Eleven months ago I was terrified about so many things, and I'm still terrified about a lot, that's just how life goes, always something to worry about. But being your mom doesn't scare me a bit anymore, and it hasn't since the moment I met you. I was always meant to know you. I was always meant to do this. I may not be an expert, I may not be traditional, I may not be perfect, but I love being your mother.

And I love you.

Your Mama

Post-Christmas

Hey, first things first, take a look in the sidebar! Where my 2010 list lives. See how one item already has a nice, straight line crossed through it? AND IT'S STILL 2009? That would be me kicking ass, my friends. Although, thankfully none of you actually tasted the cinnamon buns I made from scratch Christmas morning because if you had, you'd be far less likely to pat me on the back for my achievement. As I was cleaning up the kitchen (for the 87th time in three days, my lord cooking makes a mess), I asked Mike, "Will you eat these if I save them?" and he didn't answer, which is how I know he doesn't want to answer and also doesn't want to lie and can't think of a non-lie, won't-start-a-fight response quick enough. He just says nothing at all in hopes I'll forget I asked him a question in the first place, which never happens, I AM A WOMAN, YOU KNOW. I asked again and he said (very noncommittally), "Uh, whatever." I asked again, and he said, "No, they weren't so good. Sorry, babe." And he was right. I either did something wrong or....no, that would be the only thing that could have happened, come to think of it.

 

(Other updates from this post, as in what I cooked and how it came out, can be found in my flickr stream. In case you don't feel like clicking through: the cinnamon buns were the only non-delicious part of our Christmas menu, thank goodness.)

Other than the food, we really did have a great holiday break, although things kicked off with Kyle getting bronchitis, and if you've ever been sent home from the pediatrician with a nebulizer in order to administer breathing treatments on your not-yet-year-old baby*, you know that's no way to ring in Christmas Day, MY GOD, THE HEART, IT BREAKS.

 

He was still a champ (he always is), so the hacking cough and raging fever couldn't quite keep him (nor his hair) down.

He even managed a smile or two.

And....other emotions, as well.

 

(He's crying because he now plays this new game called Throw All His Food Off His High Chair To Watch Molly Eat It. He thinks it's a great game, and who the hell am I to try and break him of this behavior when it keeps him 1) occupied while I do the dishes or (more likely) 2) entertained while I watch old 90210 episodes. But when all the food has been thrown, and he has nothing left to throw, THE WORLD ENDS OMG. Really, THIS is the kind of face you make when you're out of food to feed something else, child? I hope you channel that giving nature into taking awesome care of your mom one day.)

We also bought a car over the break and, yeah, that's even bigger than bronchitis, perhaps I should have led with it, but I'm still in a bit of shock about it. As you may remember, we definitely NEEDED a new car since the old one stopped reversing and, yes, you are allowed to laugh now, we realize it's kind of a funny thing to go wrong with a car, but it's less funny when you're the one driving the damn, non-reversing thing. So, we got a new one. Just like that. (Although NOT just like that, of course, as there was plenty of stressing and test-driving and crunching numbers and warnings of YOU CANNOT BUY ANYTHING ELSE UNTIL FOREVER PLUS A WEEK, GOT THAT?), but we have a new car. One that reverses. Phew.

Let's end on a snowier note, though, just because I'm still not over that we had a white Christmas Kyle's first Christmas. IN TEXAS.

 

(Front of our house, from the icy street.)

I hope your holidays were filled with all good things, and I thank you for joining me in 2009.

*I get to call him a baby until he at least turns one. GIVE ME THIS NEXT MONTH.

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At Style Lush today, I'm asking you to share your favorite holiday gift with us, so go answer.

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Don't forget to comment on this post (and pass the post along, if you would). I'm hoping to take a check to Jonathan's Place the second weekend of January, and I'd just love to mention how many people helped bring it there.

Christmas Day

Oh what a year it's been. 

 

(Our cards are going out embarrassingly belated, so if you're on our list, act surprised when this shows up in your mailbox.) 

It seems our boy's first Christmas is going to be a white one, which is pretty damn cool. It's snowed all day Christmas Eve and I think the pictures I'll put up sometime soon will give you Northerners more respect for Texas. Well, a little more, at least. 

It's going to be a low-key Christmas around our house, and we're pretty thrilled about it. I hope whatever you're doing, you're thrilled about doing it, too. I also hope you are warm, well fed and loved today (and every day). 

Happy holidays from me to you.

**

Also, please don't forget to comment on this post. It's a good cause, and it's fun getting to know you better. 

In the name of the holidays

It's been a tough year. It's been hard, humbling, financially difficult, too, and that's one reason I'm greeting the holidays and 2010 with such enthusiasm. I'm stoked for what's in store because I'm leaving behind some exhausting (although definitely memorable) experiences.

I recently went back and read this post, which I wrote on one of my darkest days in mid-March. I was feeling particularly awful that day, low and sad and lonely. Kyle screamed for most of his first two months, and that made for eight very long and emotionally draining weeks. It stuns me that we have the same kid as back then because if you've been lucky enough to meet Kyle, you know he's a happy boy.

What I think of most when I read that post, though, is your support. Dozens of people reached out to me and to say you each helped me through that time is such an understatement, it's ridiculous. The blogging community saved me and without you, I wouldn't have been able to make it through, I know that. You're a force, I tell you.

When this community bands together, cool things happen, I've seen it countless times, and I know my readers are especially incredible. I've felt it firsthand. So, I'm stealing this great idea from Kristin, one of my favorite bloggers.

For every comment I get on this post from now until December 31, 2009, I'll donate 50 cents to Jonathan's Place, a local charity that specializes in taking care of abused and neglected children in Dallas and the surrounding areas. They also provide a foster and adoptive family program, which interests me. Mike and I have talked often about adopting one day. Anyway, I plan to take the check to them personally, so I can see how else I can donate my time. Kyle and I fly solo on the weekends since Mike started working his new hours, and I think visiting this incredible center would be a great way for my son and I to spend time together.

So, just as Kristin encouraged, tell me who you are in your comment. Your age, job, home town, family, etc. Just a little bit about you. Also, for fun, who was your favorite artist or band of 2009? (I'm looking for new music.)

You helped me out a lot this year, and I'm always so touched when you comment and/or email. It's like I have dozens of friends all around the country cheering me on. And people wonder why I blog.

Quick trip to Cali

It was nice taking Kyle to the place I lived when I was his age. In fact, here's the house I lived in when I was his age:

 

(Here's a picture, even, from way back when.)

We also took Ky to the zoo, the California Academy of Sciences and In N Out Burger. You know, all the hot spots.

He also got to meet an old, dear friend of mine (from this post):

We also ditched the boy with my step-mom on Friday night and drove into the city for dinner with some awesome bloggers and their families. Mike, who hadn't met a one, said to me on the way home, "Sucks we don't live closer to any of them." Yep, babe, it really, really does. (So, ladies, who's moving to Texas? OR, who's paying for me to live in SF?)

 

(Dinner was at the awesome Little Star Pizza and dessert was at Candy Bar. Great choices!)

We also wine tasted with my uncle, who I don't get to see often enough, while my dad watched Kyle for a little bit. The weather was crappy, the company great.

Rained and rained and rained and then stopped raining briefly and then rained and rained and rained. Also, it was cold, too.

I won't get into too much detail about our flight to San Francisco, because I should be instead putting my thoughts into a letter to Fox Rental Car for their customer service shortcomings. Things worked out, though, that's just what things have a way of doing, and I really want 2010 to be the year I remember this IN THE MOMENT and not an hour after THE MOMENT. I freaked out at 1 am in the rental car center, with a sleepy, cranky baby and a sleepy, cranky husband because the rental car agent told me I couldn't have the car I reserved, and I wish I could keep it together better in moments like this instead of screaming profanities (no matter how deserved those profanities were). Yes, he was a royal ass, but isn't it always better to be lovely to an asshole? Doesn't that irk them even more? I think it does. I need to keep this in mind more often in the future. Add it to the new year's goal list!

The flight back was much nicer because of a very compassionate and lovely AA agent named Dwight Foreman. He cleared a row for us, so we took Kyle's car seat onto the plane and he slept the whole time. I read Vanity Fair and then slept myself! That's a nice flight with a baby, let me tell you.

Anyway, we had a great trip. I miss it already, I always do, and I look forward to going back in a year and a half to see my brother graduate high school.

 

Now, I have to tackle a million and one things around here before Christmas next week (!!). So, here's one last one before I go, one of us, my family, in one of my favorite places on earth.

 

Mike's already planning how to make our roof look like this one. He's so geeky and green.

So, we're back and it's just as cold in Texas as it was in Northern California, and I've really had enough of that. I like a chill in the air, yes, but I also like feeling my feet at least once a day.

(Lots more pictures of our trip here.)

@runningtofit

Thanks for the nice words on yesterday's post; they got me thinking. In fact, I started a Twitter account to record my progress through this Day One and Beyond phase of things. Twitter is a such great resource for anyone looking for encouragement, help, a sounding board, inspiration, etc., and it's been good to me and for me, too. I hope to share links, recipes, honest truths (i.e. "totally craving a big, chocolate-y cupcake, yo.") and start some great conversations with you about weight loss, healthy living and reaching goals through it.

I'm at twitter.com/runningtofit, which is a name I created in the spirit of running to get fit, but also running to fit into the body I can see and remember, but the body that's been missing for a while. Losing weight and feeling good about yourself isn't just about fitting into a great pair of jeans, but, come on, that's certainly part of it and it's one great reward of it, too. So the name has lots of meanings.

I hope it's the accountability tool I want it to be.

*************

Hey, also, I'm in California this weekend visiting family (and introducing my boy to some of the people I get My Crazy from), but I'm stealing away Friday night for a blogging dinner meet-up in San Francisco. If you're in the city and want to join us, let me know. I'm leaving Kyle with a babysitter (my step-mom), but will be dragging Mike along with me, so you can see he's not made up.

Ten Months

Dear Kyle,

I'm already beginning to plan your first birthday party, can you believe that? Well, you probably can because by now I'm sure you know your mom really, really likes birthdays, and kicking off the planning two months in advance is just how I roll. I'm toying with your theme and the cake and the favor bags and SO MUCH and people I talk to roll their eyes and sigh and look at me like I've lost my damn mind, but it's just that if I can't celebrate this year (this year with you) then there's never been a reason to celebrate anything, ever.

Before I start sobbing about having an ALMOST-ONE YEAR OLD OMG, let's talk about what you've been up to this month. Oh, my, what HAVEN'T you been up to this month? There is not a moment of peace in our home between the hours of 7 am and 7 pm. Your body is flipped into the ON! position all day long and when I look away even for a second, you somehow get a hold of and are chewing on my laptop cord or Molly or a shoe or the wall, and I'm not even kidding about that last one. Everything is in your mouth, and there are various times of the day when I see you chewing on something and think, Oh, let that be a days-old Cheerio and not something sharper and more damaging to your internal organs. You love to move, it's your most favorite thing to do, and if you had your way, we'd never sit down.

You also like to be chased, which is ridiculously adorable since you can't exactly go far, and I'm doing a very, very bad parenting thing by encouraging this game, I know, but it's impossible to resist making you laugh. You start crawling, sneakily look behind you with a mad twinkle in your eye, so I start to run toward you and you shriek with laughter and try to crawl away as fast as you possibly can. It's so fun, especially the part where I reach you, scoop you up and kiss you all over while you laugh and laugh.

You picked your belly off the floor this month, so even though you've been army-crawling since you were seven months, you are really crawling now. And no matter how many toys we spread around the house, there are a few things you without-a-doubt go to when we set you down to crawl: outlets (baby cliche!), dust bunnies (yum), Molly or the small basketball your Gramps gave you.

A couple other cool things happened this month, one being your dad has new work hours, so he's now home with you during the week. You have adventures and play together and sing songs, and he sends me pictures from Kohl's or Fry's or Home Depot or wherever else his to-do list has taken you both, and you look on top of the world in each picture. Life is funny in its unpredictability, so who knows what our routine will be like in six months or a year, so I know your dad is sopping up this time with you and enjoying every moment. Although, without fail, I come home to you either 1) wearing some god-awful, doesn't-match outfit or 2) the pjs you were wearing when I left. Buds, I'm sorry your dad thinks he has such stellar fashion sense especially because he doesn't, but seeing you two together waving from the couch each morning as I walk out the door is the most beautiful sight in the world. You have a dad who adores you and loves being with you. I've said it before, and I'll say it a million times more, I'm sure, but he's the best gift I could ever give you, and I hope no matter what happens in life or how much you hate us for your early curfew or for making you study or for telling you to get off the phone at 10 pm even though you really want to tell your girlfriend you love her just one more time, you know that having a good, decent, honest father is going to take you so far in life.

A couple other cool things that happened this past month were: 1) snow! and 2) turkey! We had your first Thanksgiving and your first snowfall within a week of each other, and you were pretty stoked about both until 30 seconds in when you realized 1) snow gives you a wet butt and 2) turkey isn't pureed pears. I love that you'll try anything even if you get this look on your face seconds in that says, "Yeah, I'd rather not be doing this. Please stop making me."

Finally, another new thing, one much less fun, is the SCREAMING! The SCREAMING! has descended upon our house, and if we leave the room or you want out of your high chair or you want out of your crib or you want more food or you want the remote or, let's sum it up like this, YOU WANT SOMETHING WE'RE NOT GIVING YOU, you SCREAM! It's not a cry, no, it's a EEEAAAAHHHH. EEEAAAAHHHHHHHHH. EEEAAAAHHHHHHHHH. And you get louder and louder until I give you whatever it is you want or throw myself in front of traffic, whichever I do first. You are cute, kid, and sweet and funny, too, but can we stop with the screaming? I'll totally bend that early curfew I mentioned earlier.

Sometimes you wake up on the wrong side of your crib and for the first, cranky hour of the morning, I go through my mother check-list: teething? no, tired? no, hungry? no, WHAT THEN? WHAT WHAT WHAT? And sometimes it dawns on me, maybe you're just in a bad mood. That's certainly OK, your mom and dad get in bad moods often enough, but I go straight to FIX IT mode, and I really want to stop doing that. I want you to be moody, if you want to be moody. It's OK to not be in a good mood. What's not OK is to throw your bottle/pacifier/toy/whatever is in your reach into your mom's face to convey that bad mood. Make a note of that.

You are still a full-of-life, sweet-smiled, happy boy, though. I think back to how I was as a kid often, and although I had a pretty good childhood, lots of cool experiences and such, I remember taking on the happiness of others from a really young age. I wanted no conflict, no stresses, and so I'd do whatever I could to smooth the waters. I used to sense fights before they'd happen, by the inflection in someone's voice or the look in someone's eyes, and I'd try and change the subject or sing a song or something. I wanted peace, and I tried to make it happen. It was a tough thing to carry as a little girl, and when I look at you, I see such pure joy that I hope I can preserve in you for as long as possible. I hope I never give you my happiness to take care of, and I hope you never have to worry about keeping the peace around you. I hope that you can take this ten-month feeling and carry it for years, this carefree, happy-screeching way of yours. You deserve to worry about your happiness and your peace for as long as possible, until you have your own kids, even, and pace the floors with worry as a hobby.

You should also know that with one simple look of yours, one open-mouthed grin, slobbering kiss or cuddle, you heal a million wounds.

Just by being you, Ky, all the weight I carried before you fell to the ground. We've smashed the weight together.

I love you, Buds.

 

Love,

Your Mama

The question game

When I was in New York, we had a company holiday dinner at a great Asian restaurant in the Meatpacking District, and at that dinner, we did something a little unconventional for company holiday parties. At least I think so. I haven't been to many company holiday parties, but perhaps this is what all companies do? Who knows. Anyway, we all took turns asking questions the rest of the company (we're a whopping six-total-person company) took turns answering. These ranged from normal (greatest regret?) to crazier (would you give up sex forever for a million dollars?) to really interesting (what do you fear others perceive you as?). You know, I've worked with (most of) these folks for four years, the others at least two-plus, but it was still really cool to hear what these people answered for various, wide-ranging questions.

It's one of my favorite things -- playing The Question Game -- and, in fact, on my favorite date with Mike (favorite day, arguably), we hid in the corner of our local Barnes & Noble and asked each other questions from The Book of Questions. I like hearing people answer questions. It's just a quirk of mine. It's why I'll stop at every Q&A interview in a magazine, even if I have no idea the interviewee. So, I thought, why not ask my readers (all dozen of you), a question and spend the night (or however many minutes it takes me) reading your answers, getting to know you better.

I like this idea. 

So, in honor of my recent globetrotting-obsession, tell me this:

What is one place (you haven't yet been) that you'd be ridiculously bummed to never travel to in your lifetime?

Place can mean many things, so have at it.

Holiday spirit

You know what I miss a lot about my pre-baby life? The long, never-judged, just-perfect, post-Thanksgiving-meal nap. It was a lovely, wonderful holiday this year, most definitely, but there were very few naps and a holiday break without long naps is ... well, it's kind of bittersweet, isn't it?

Still, though, we had mashed potatoes and any holiday break with mashed potatoes isn't a bad holiday break at all, I'd say.

We also utilized our last full-family* weekend by getting, putting up and doing a dance about our Christmas tree**. I've wanted a live tree since meeting Mike, and he's been against it for one reason or another, but he caved this year (perhaps because caving is so much easier than listening to me whine or perhaps he just likes me a whole lot more this year, I'LL LET YOU GUESS WHICH ONE) and we found our 6-foot Fraser tree for the bargain price of $18.95 at our local Home Depot. We also got a 75-piece gold/red ornament set for $19.95, and I think it's a sign of a good day when you get both your Christmas tree and all the ornaments you'll need to, well, adorn that tree for less than $50. For less than FORTY DOLLARS, even. Kyle was very excited about both the tree and the ornaments, so much so that we decided to prop the tree up on one of our end tables to ensure there were no ornaments-or-tree-crashing-onto-the-baby's-head incidents. Not the classiest of set-ups, no, but better for all who live (and pay the insurance premiums) here.

Oh, did you want me to throw in a baby photo right about now? Ohhhh, fine, because you asked so nicely:

Sporting the finest trends from Old Navy's summer and fall lines, where all the best baby sales are.

We also picked up Kyle's Christmas outfit OR, better yet, the outfit in which Kyle will wear to scream his head off at his very first Santa photo op. See, I KNOW this cannot end well, this Santa photo tradition, and yet I cannot resist. To be paired with jeans, cute shoes and fat crocodile tears.

Cute, right!? Or, if not, perhaps lie since it's already been purchased.

That Santa picture will be taken this coming weekend, so expect a full report on the meltdown statuses post-that.

I love this time of year, but this year seems to be even worse. We put our lights up before Thanksgiving (I know, ANNOYING) and have our shopping almost done and have cookie recipes doggy-eared and the stockings are hung and Christmas pjs are being searched for, and I chalk this up to it being Kyle's first holiday or possibly the first holiday in our first home or maybe it's just me being sappier in my old age, I don't know, but I'm really thrilled about the holidays, and I want to press pause on so much this year, especially on Kyle experiencing all these things for the first time. 

How was your Thanksgiving? Great, I hope.

*Mike starts new work hours this week, and they're different, definitely, as he will now be working Saturday, Sunday and Monday (12 hours a day) and will be home with Kyle the rest of the week. On the one hand, we're going to have to work very hard for our family quality time, yes, but on the other (BIGGER) hand, we'll be saving so much money, we'll actually be able to pay all our bills (kidding! kinda!) and Kyle will no longer be subjected to the germ-riddled day care that we loved a lot, don't get me wrong, but was the equivalent of me letting him loose to lick the street once a day. He was getting sick so much, it was becoming COMICAL. We'll see how it goes, but I feel more good than bad, and that's...good, right?

**I was the only one doing the Christmas tree dance, AS IF YOU WERE UNCLEAR ON THAT.

This post is like a Lady Gaga outfit: Strange but maybe a little fun, too.

Since a few of you have asked, Kyle is (well, until the next plague descends) feeling much better. There's this silly little thing parents do -- well, there's this silly little thing I do, as a parent -- that consists of wringing my hands like a crazy person each time we hit a speed bump, as if this less desirable phase is going to be The Way Things Stay Forever and Ever, Shoot Me Now. Regression -- whether by sickness or teething or growing pains or exhaustion or WHAT-THE-HELL-EVER -- is a tricky mind game, and it's hard to see past it. Sure, I logically know (uh, in hindsight) that the flu or a stomach virus or teething or Kyle just being an all-around grouchopotamus isn't a brand new normal, but it's hard not to let my cynical mind go there at times, like when he's screaming his head off at 2 a.m. or throwing his pacifier at my face at 4 a.m.

Then, we pass through the shitty stage and move on to smiles and laughs and long nights of sleep, and I am reminded how I sometimes desperately fail at perspective because after 27 years you'd think I'd have figured out by now that life is not a straight line at all, it's a back-and-forth, two-steps-forward, eighteen-steps-backward kind of dance. Nothing lasts very long, not even the flu/cold season.

So, yes, he's doing lots better. Let me show you!:

 

In his Pink Floyd t-shirt, making his papa proud.

I took more pictures of him over the weekend. You can see them all here.

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Also over the weekend I hosted a champagne and cake party with my friend Kristie. We had champagne (shocking!) and Sprinkles cupcakes and lots of ladies all gathered in my 1300-square-foot house, laughing and sipping and politely ignoring my child screaming from his room. (Nothing says PARTY! like a screaming baby, don't you agree?) But, really, we had a nice time.

My motivation for throwing the party was just celebrating friendships in general. When I first began dating Mike I let nearly everything else important in my life fall by the wayside. Grades, friends, my sorority, my job, so on and sadly so forth. About six months in, something shifted, and I missed who I was (and who I had) before Mike. Taking a renewed interest in my life improved my relationship with him. (Win-win!) So, I'm now a pretty big advocate for women having strong friendships outside of their marriage or relationship. You can never have too many people in your corner, so pick funny, smart, confident, supportive women and spend time with them.

With champagne and carbs. Hard to top that.

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I invited a couple of those women to see New Moon with me this weekend, too, so I wouldn't have to see it alone. The movie was great, in a really-horribly-acted-and-super-duper-cheesy way. Those are the best kinds, aren't they? It's like the feature film equivalent to One Tree Hill or Dawson's Creek or anything that's ever aired on MTV. I found myself clapping and groaning and laughing and loving every minute. 

You should go see it, too.

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Mike and I have one ongoing, headache-inducing fight, and it's all about me. Oh, that's fun, isn't it! To be the cause of frustration in my marriage! I think I shall add that skill of mine to my resume. Need to drive your husband insane, give me a call, I'm an expert! See, I tend to abandon household tasks half-way through completing them. For example, I toss my shoes off when I walk in the door instead of taking them to our room. I tend to wash all the dishes except the pots and those pots sit in the kitchen sink for a week before someone (uh, not me) stomps around and puts them away. I fold the clothes but abandon the sock pairing. I...well, you get it, don't you? I'm pretty spectacularly awful at follow-through, that's the point of this, and it drives Mike to pull his hair out and drink and call me names (OK, he doesn't actually call me names BUT I BET HE WANTS TO).

The root of the problem is (hopefully) my attention span and not my sheer laziness. I get distracted easily and regular chores suffer. Mike also happens to be ridiculously weird about things like this and where it may not bother the average person, it REALLY, REALLY, OH-MY-HELL-WOMAN-GET-YOUR-SHIT-TOGETHER bothers him.

I feel like I do so much around the house and for our family that a rogue pair of shoes or a dirty pot or a random pair of socks shouldn't stress anyone out. You should still buy me flowers daily because I'm awesome. Awesome people totally leave the lights on in every room in the house. YES THEY DO.

But, well, I love my husband and this really, really bothers my husband, and so I'd like to take a stab at fixing this, so perhaps my husband could go back to really, really loving me in return. Is there another way to remember to do all these things other than just, um, REMEMBERING? Because if I could just remember to do them, well, we would not be on the fourth paragraph of my marital issues, would we? No, we would not.

Do you perhaps suffer from this disorder too, this I Am So Busy and Important I Routinely Forget to Finish Simple, Ordinary Tasks disorder? Do you have a way to control this disorder? Would you like to share your wisdom with me? I think my husband would send you a thank you note in appreciation, and he never sends thank you notes for anything, ever, unless I write it and then have him sign it.

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This weekend, Kyle also crawled with his belly off the floor for the first time. He's become quite the army crawling expert and I wasn't sure he'd ever lift that pudge up to crawl like regular babies crawl, but then mid-champagne-and-cake party, he did it! And I teared up! And then I captured it again the next day. See!:

 

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Molly's still here, too. This is her put-upon face. The face I've seen regularly for the last 9 months. Don't feel too badly for her, she enjoyed an entire box of Pepperidge Farm cookies after our champagne-and-cake party, when we left her alone with them for hours. I can't really blame her, but I sure don't feel quite as eager to let her on our bed as I was the day before.

 

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I hope you have a very short work week and will be enjoying food and family and Black Friday sales in no time. We have some good things up at Style Lush this week (like this HANDMADE advent calendar, OMG) in honor of the holiday and shopping spirit and festiveness, so go enjoy.

Happy Turkey Week to you and yours.

New York, in sections

I was lucky enough to travel to New York City last Wednesday for five days of mostly fun, a little work and lots and lots of rain. I've been to the city before, a handful of times, but this was a pretty unique trip. I had ridiculous amounts of fun, even though Kyle was a thousand miles away with the flu. Suffice to say, I owe Mike a back rub or 85.

Where we ate:
Live Bait
Bianca's. Inexpensive and good. I like that combo. (Cash only.)
Baked by Melissa. Best cupcakes I've ever had, and they're tiny, so you can try a half dozen flavors, no problem. (Cash only.)
Buttercup Bake Shop. A reader suggested this place, so I wanted to love it, but I just didn't. We probably just got a bad batch.
Shake Shack (Upper West Side location) Delicious! I was only disappointed I was so full on fries, I couldn't get the chocolate truffle shake.
El Charro Espanol. Unbelievable salmon with mustard sauce and yummy sangria, too.
Sunburnt Cow. Bottomless mimosas and the perfect brunch dish (Barrier Reef Benedict). I could have stayed there all day. (Thanks for the tip, Natalie!) (Cash only.)
Spice Market. We got the tasting menu, and it did not disappoint. But, go for the butternut squash soup or beef skewers if you can choose. I dreamt of these two dishes later that night. (The Lychee Raspberry Bellini was fantastic, also.)
Stumptown Coffee in the Ace Hotel. Funky, cool hotel and a funky, cool coffee shop. I had a quick work meeting the day we left, and this was a nice place to have it. Who doesn't like quick work meetings at fun coffee shops inside great hotels?

Where we drank:
Bar 89
Bleecker Street Bar
Vlada. Saw a drag show here Wednesday night and even though I was mistaken for a lesbian far more than I'd prefer, we had such fun. Get the pomegranate martini if you ever go, although only one bartender knew how to make it well enough that it was, easily, the best drink I'd ever had.
Agozar. We had some time to kill before dinner one night, so we stopped in for sangria. Fun atmosphere.
Wogies Bar and Grill. Again, we had some time to kill before another dinner, so we just grabbed a couple beers here. Felt like a really cool, neighborhood bar, though.

Where we shopped:
Greenwich Letterpress Shop. I only spent $45 in this store, and that showed some serious and admirable restraint. (There's an Etsy shop, too!)
Christopher 19. Some of the most stunning jewelry I've ever seen. Jewelry that cost more than your average car payment, yes, but STILL STUNNING. Also, sadly, no website. Trust me, stop in if you get a chance and promptly swoon.
C.O. Bigelow. I'd get in some serious trouble if I had a drugstore like this anywhere near my house.
Fifth Avenue. The Anthropologie alone was worth fighting the crowds.
Soho. Lots of fun things over there.

What else we saw:
The American Museum of Natural History and the Planetarium. Oh, this place just oozed awesomeness. Impossible to see it all in a morning or even a day. I bought Kyle a t-shirt in the gift shop because nothing says, "Your mom's a giant nerd!" like a t-shirt from the Museum of Natural History. One of our books was also being sold in the gift shop and we took pictures. See above about being a nerd.
The Comedy Cellar. Great, fun time. Not a bad seat in the house, either.
God of Carnage. Can't complain when you're in the same room as James Gandolfini (we saw his last show, it seems), but I hope to see a musical my next trip.

We really did have a great time all around. It was rainy and chilly, but I finally saw the city's real charm. I go back in May and then again in August, and I really can't wait. That's the truth.

Yara, me, Adrienne. I'm lucky to work with ladies I like. And ladies who lend me dresses when I need one, as I'm wearing one of Yara's.

Giveaway (but not here); other stuff too

You don't come here to read posts about other blogs, I know, so forgive me for continually forcing Style Lush-related odds-and-ends down your throat. I'm just so proud of the site and the writers. I had this little idea one day, and it's now an actual thing. That's cool, no matter how late that little idea keeps me up each night (hint: hella late). Hey, maybe you can benefit from my late nights.

We're offering one Style Lush reader a free Kramey Martin banner. Free! That's a really good price for a banner. Enter to win by midnight on Thursday, 10/29, which is basically tonight. So, go comment. That's all you have to do! 

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This year has easily been the craziest, hardest, most rewarding of my life, and as I approach 2010 and then Kyle's first birthday, I think of all I did and didn't do and what I'd like next year to look like. 

More than anything, I'd like to be more thoughtful of the people in my life. More often than not, my mom reads news or happenings about me and Kyle on Twitter instead of directly from me. Friends see Facebook status updates instead of personal e-mails or phone calls. Birthdays go by unnoticed or even unmentioned. I'm not proud of any of this, and I'm trying to find the delicate balance of being the kind of person I can respect -- the kind who goes out of her way for the people in her life -- while still staying strong and secure -- not letting other people's thoughts and opinions dictate how I feel. 

One thing I'm doing is co-hosting a champagne and cake party with Kristie next month. There is no special occasion for the party except the desire to get a bunch of friends together for a night. So often, insecurities cause us to begrudge the successes and joys of our friends because of our own shortcomings. This is a quality of mine -- the tendency to knee-jerkingly envy other people's lives instead of feeling genuine happiness for them -- that I hate and that I'd like to nip in the bud. Like yesterday. So, we've invited a houseful of people over to sip a champagne cocktail and to munch on cake and cupcakes. Not a bad idea, right? Mike asked if this was just an excuse to eat cupcakes and send out an evite. It annoys me when I'm reminded he knows me so well.

I also want to get my stress in check over the next few months, before Kyle's memories really start to form. I do a lot, and this is how I choose it. I don't have to blog or throw parties or go on trips, but I like having things to look forward to. I enjoy almost everything I choose to fill my life with (other than the dishes; those blow), but I spend most days tense, tired, snappy. I hate that. I talked a little bit about my thoughts on taking real and true care of myself -- physically -- at Bodies in Motivation, and I'm excited to get happy on the outside.

It's a little early to start looking to the new year and new changes, but as we gear up for the holidays, and I realize we have so much to do throughout the rest of 2009 to make some awesome Kyle's-first-holidays memories, this stuff has been on my mind a lot.

The first year as a mother is pure insanity, at least it has been for me, and I'm finally starting to design the life I want, on this side of normal.