Daddies

It's the little things that daddies do that just warm our mommy hearts isn't it? I tip-toed into Wolfies room to check on him before going to sleep and was tickled to find a "sucky" in his mouth, and four more suckies strategically placed in each corner of the crib. I smiled because I know exactly why he did that. Men are so beautifully thoughtful in such smart and strategic ways. :)

Santa In Training

And his elf...

Music

There's no way this boy is going to escape being a musician on some level, haha. Between the Gymboree music classes PA has him in, my daily piano lessons, and now a full drum kit at his disposal, he's going to be singing Dixie by the time he's talking.. Lets hope his math skills though are better than his Mommas!

I dressed him like a burglar...

Because he's stolen my heart!

Basking in the Baby-ness

After a battle with a MEGA COLD and intense weekend of working the Oprah event yesterday, I was eager to get the munchkin to bed so I could clean out my bag, wash my face, cross some "T's" and dot all the "I's" before my Monday rises with the sun in a handful of hours. Instead, I found myself unable to put Wolfie down in his crib.  Eric and my wonderful mother and father in law were still at Scott and Christine's celebrating Scott's birthday so the house was to myself. 

It was essential to me that Wolfie go to sleep without a hitch tonight so I thought I'd make sure he was REALLY asleep before putting him in his crib.  Keeping babe in arm, I tip-toed and clicked every single light off in the house. I opened the slider to let the cool October air in, poured a glass of wine, and made my way to the big brown easy chair.  With his soft music that I play for him every night, I just drank in all his little breaths and sounds.  I could tell he was drifting into the land of nod, deeper, and deeper, as his little body became heavier and heavier. I rocked back and fourth and just let him sleep in my arms, cuddled up in a blanket.  He even sleep-laughed a couple times.

I sat there, in the dark, in the quiet, and just let my mind drift along and rock-a-byed the baby.  I was basking in his baby-ness and little did he know, he was giving me something even more relaxing that a glass of wine or the tight sheets of a freshly made bed. He was giving me tranquility, peace, and balance.

I write this especially because when I look back on my time when he was a baby, and read these journal entries, I want to remind my future self and reassure myself that I truly cherish every little second with my bundle of joy.  As often as I can, i try to just BE in the moment and relish his juicy infancy and all the healing effects a baby can bring. As I write this, the lights are still off, my wine has been sipped, and I can go to bed knowing that THAT moment, was my 'reset' button because my heart was as open and for the first time in what feels like weeks I sat. . . just sat. With a million and one things to do, and not doing a damn one of them. I learned a effective mantra yesterday at the Oprah event. . . . to learn to say "I'm done.".  Well goodnight. ... I'm done. :)

Emma

Fresh and Easy

Lauren turned me into Fresh and Easy and I'm hooked! It was the first time I took wolfie to the grocery store by myself without the car seat. I found this amazing holster on etsy that all moms should run out and buy. We've all seen the shopping cart covers but that's the problem, they are just covers. This "kangaboo" is a giant piece of Velcro that hugs your baby so he can't wiggle free. I mean he is literally bolted down. I was able to quickly step away to grab my groceries and felt at ease that he was safe. Worth the germs that the fluffy traditional cart covers shield, ha. Wolfie fell in love with the pumpkins! I look forward to taking him to his first pumpkin patch soon. Also another reason I love Fresh and Easy? Frot row parking for families.

Baby Jail

Someone's plotting their escape plan! Good thing "Pa" was around to tighten up the security! He lowered the mattress.

My Dear Wolfie. . .

If you turn out to be a little ducky. . . a quack. . . please blame your father. :)

Wood Blocks

Before my sweet baby boy was born I decided to crawl up onto soap box, then jump on a high horse. . . and protest my disapproval for plastic, and worse. . . electronic toys. I vowed to only use organic fabrics and lead-free paint when purchasing Wolfie's play accessories.  I shuddered at anything with a battery. That lasted about a week.  The first wonderful enhancement to Wolfie's development was a "bar" that played music, rattled, and bounced whenever Wolfie kicked it. We strapped it across his changing table.  Then his "piano" which anyone in our lives knows was a God send to us. He utterly loved it.  So out the window went my haughty ideals on such toys and I swallowed my pride while admitting that these plastic, brightly colored, annoyingly repetitive baby toys were just as impactful, if not more. 

But something wonderful happened. . . . GiGi (Grandma Lois) bought Wolfie a wooden block toy set (very elementary colored wooden blocks that can stack and slide into place to form a train).  It's been in bits an pieces for awhile where Wolfie might pick one up and throw it, but just as of yesterday, he hit a beautiful milestone. He picked up two blocks, and hit them together. . . CRACK....CRACK. . . CRACK. . . CRACK. . . . A noise only wood-on-wood could make.  It's like. . . plastic just sounds like the sprinkler hitting the side of your car, but wood. . . is the sound of rain on your roof. It's such an earthy sound the has a pang of nostalgia. I'm sure anyone born before 1980 knows that distinct sound of wood blocks falling to the ground (that and raking your hand through lego's if you're lucky enough to have had a stinky brother).

So, I'll keep my plastic toys still, but I've fallen in love again with the simplicity and beauty of wood blocks.

UPDATE: The vacuum still scares the baby, lol.

If the vacuum scares your baby. . .

Change the vacuum! 

 

 

 

 

We have a robot vacuum that is quite loud, and buzzes around the floor like an annoying electronic manta ray.  Well, Wolfie wasn't a fan. He was wincing and lifting his legs every time it came near, haha.  Colonel Mustard could care less. He was simply inconvenienced every time he had to get up and move when it approached his tail. Well, I decided to stick one of Wolfie's toys on the top of it.  The toy has a suction cup so it was perfect! Wolfie suddenly found a new interest in the vacuum and even smiled when it came closer. Being a mommy is all about adaptation, isn't it? 

 

On another note, I love pretty little baskets now to hold Wolfie's toys. I keep baskets in every corner of the house and it's so much easier to keep surfaces tidy when there is a nice place to toss a teething ring or "sucky toy" nearby. One of my favorites right now, is this old knitting box that grandma gave me years ago.  It used to hold magazines in my bathroom, and now it's a mini toy box PERFECT for Wolfie's height! He'll spend a lot of time quietly picking out his favorite friends, balls, and animals.

 

The story behind this box is quite neat.  The box itself is a "knitting box" which is a small chest with a handle and hinged lids so that you can tote it around with you wherever you land to knit. 

 

Grandma said "I used "Green Stamps" to acquire the sewing box. I forgot how many books of stamps I had to have to cash in for the box. I had to drive to Long Beach to redeem the stamps. I got it when your dad was about 6 or 7 years old. My mother collected the stamps also so we went together to pick out our items. It was quite an exciting thing to get enough filled books to pick up an item you wanted."



Here is a little history on Green Stamps:

S&H Green Stamps (also called Green Shield Stamps) were a form of trading stamps popular in the United States between the 1930s and early 1980s. They were a rewards program operated by the Sperry and Hutchinson company (S&H), founded in 1896 by Thomas Sperry and Shelly Hutchinson. During the 1960s, the rewards catalog printed by the company was the largest publication in the United States and the company issued three times as many stamps as the U.S. Postal Service.[citation needed] Customers would receive stamps at the checkout counter of supermarkets, department stores, and gas stations among other retailers, which could be redeemed for products in the catalog.

Sperry & Hutchinson began offering stamps to U.S. retailers in 1896. The retail organizations bought the stamps from S&H and gave them as bonuses with every purchase. The stamps were given at filling stations, shops and supermarkets. Shoppers were given stamps based on the dollar amount of their purchase. Collect enough of them and face licking them and sticking them into collectors books (a pastime often given to amuse children), and the shopper could claim valuable prizes from the local Green Stamps store or catalog.

 

 

Re-Blog: The Last Time

My Sister-in-law, Christine posted this today on her blog (http://christine-lovies.blogspot.com) and I had to shut my door to my office I was crying so much.  Thanks Christine for the beautiful reminder. 

 

 

"The Last Time"

 

I came across this read, The Last Time, written by a Lawyer/Mother on The Huffington Post today. Honestly I could not have said it better myself. I had to include it in my blog because I knew I would want to read it again someday. I love my little peanuts so much I dread the day they won't want me as much as they do today. And yes, I cried.

Tonight, Little Dude asked for a snuggle before bed. It was well past his bedtime and I was tired, cranky and had a stack of laundry to fold, a memo to write and a blog post to finish. I told him I'd snuggle for two minutes.
He crawled under his blanket, squirmed until he was comfortable and pushed me to the edge of the mattress. He offered me his favorite blankie to keep me warm. I put my arm around him and he was sound asleep before I had finished cataloguing the list of things I had to do before I could crawl into my own bed. I considered making a stealthy escape but stopped when he threw his arm around my neck while mumbling unintelligibly. A sleeping 4-year old's arm has as much strength as a soggy piece of toast, but I didn't move. Despite my earlier desire to leave, I stayed and pulled him toward me.
I had one of those rare blissful parenting moments when everything else fades away and you appreciate the simple physical presence of your child. I marveled at the amount of heat a small boy produces when he sleeps and the ease with which he leaves the world behind. I smelled his hair. The laundry could wait.
It hit me in the darkness of his cluttered room that these days are numbered. Some night in the future, Little Dude will ask me to snuggle with him before he falls asleep, and I will have no idea that it will be the last time. I won't know to pay attention or to try to commit every minute to memory. Days or weeks or months later, I will try to recall when that last snuggle happened. I won't be able to. I know I will ache to slide next to him on his narrow bed, listen to him breathe and wait for the moment when he surrenders to his dreams. All of the irritations, the inconveniences and the wishing for time alone will seem insignificant in comparison to the warmth and peace of his nighttime routine. I will regret the times I hurried through bedtime and left his room even though he asked me to stay "Just one more minute, Mommy."
It will be too late.
I just now understand that in anticipating my son's "firsts," I've forgotten to appreciate what he's left behind. The firsts are monumental, celebrated and captured on film. I reveled in Little Dude's first steps, jotted down his first words and am prepared to save lost teeth. There isn't a first I haven't recorded in some way. I've paid less attention to his "lasts." I've ignored the finality that comes with moving from one stage to another.
I don't remember the last day that Little Dude's eyes were blue before they turned green. I can't recall the last time his hair was baby soft and curly, or the last time he crawled or took a real nap. I can't pinpoint the last time we shared the peaceful quiet of a 3 a.m. feeding, or he squealed with joy to be riding his wooden rocking horse. There will be a hundred last times to come. And I won't know they've passed until there is no hope of recapturing them. I know this because I don't remember the last day he used a pacifier or waited for us to get him from his bed rather than clomping into our bedroom at some ungodly pre-dawn hour exuberant and ready to face the day as we struggle to open our eyes. I've forgotten when he stopped liking sweet potatoes or saying "Pick mine up!"
Not that there aren't stages I'm happy are gone. I don't miss teething, two-hour feedings, biting or needing to be carried everywhere. I'm neither Pollyanna nor a masochist. Babies are darling; I'm also glad I don't have one anymore. Raising children isn't all warm snuggles and charming memories. Parenting can be a long, hard slog.
But for today I'm focusing on the last times still to come, even though I won't know that they're the last chapters until long after they've gone. The last snuggle. The last time Little Dude asks me to bring him chocolate milk. The last time we play fire trucks. The last time he falls down and comes crying to me with his entire body shaking, tears streaming down his face, believing with childish certainty that a kiss from me will make his skinned knee better. The last time he asks to marry me. The last time he believes in my omniscience. The last time we color together at the kitchen table. I'm not naïve enough to believe that this moment of reflection will stop me from becoming irritated, impatient, frustrated, bored or upset tomorrow when my son whines, spills spaghetti sauce on the rug or throws a fit because I won't let him stay up late. Maybe, though, I'll temper my response if I can remember how fleeting this all is. That for every moment I've prayed would end, there is something I miss.

Found my Shadow

“I wasn't crying about mothers," he said rather indignantly. "I was crying because I can't get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn't crying.”  ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

In the classic story Peter Pan, we first meet Peter while he is frantically looking for his lost shadow. He finds his shadow stuffed in a drawer, but he can’t get it to stick to him much to his dismay. Wendy wakes up to see Peter Pan’s dilemma and takes out a needle and thread and sews Peter Pan and his shadow back together. Once he's restored, the children fly out the window following Peter Pan to Never Never Land.

I decided this week that "enough is enough" and I went on a good jog after a long sabbatical to re-adjust to going back to work.  While jogging, the sun was setting and cast my shadow across the big hot asphalt road.  I imagined that I felt  how Peter Pan felt when he got his back.  I was struck by it, and a strange sense of clarity and inspiration came across my heart (a feeling that has been flooding over me ever since finishing The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand). I identified two main reasons why my post-work exercise routine was as inspiring as throwing a cat in water. 

Two main priorities in my life seemingly made it impossible:

1. Wanting to spend every ounce, every waking minute I have with Wolfie before he goes to bed. 
2. The importance that I place on having a home-cooked meal on the table for Eric and I.

I always felt like putting Wolfie in the jogging stroller couldn't count as personal time with him because we were so detached. He was facing outwards, and I was pre-occupied with myself, and my own endurance. So to counter that feeling, I decided that I must remind myself that this jog is GOOD for him. He gets the fresh air and above all, he KNOWS his mommy is right there behind him that's what counts.  I also just have to simply incorporate him in my routine, and 'play' while I work.  I would peek in and tickle him, run around the stroller and play peek-a-boo.  On an early day I can jog him down to the beach, throw out a blanket for ten minutes and have quality time with him that way. Or, if I do this . . . it is still quality time with him.  Quality time doesn't need to involve ten million kisses and a book sitting on my lap. It comes in a variety of forms, every which one just as important to his development.

Dinners are simple in theory. If I want to increase my work-out routines, I'm going to have to pre-make some dinners or buy dinners that are VERY easy to make (I've discovered Fresh and Easy Markets which are exactly as they promise--fresh AND easy.) Some of my pals encourage me to take the pressure off and NOT strive for home cooking on the table for my man but that just isn't natural to me. If I was living alone I could absolutely live off of Lean Cuisines and Cereal, and probably would. I devote my cooking to the love of my life, Eric.  Not because of some submissive fear or neediness, but my genuine desire to make him happy and the deep rooted instinct to feed and nourish the ones around me by my own hand.  After all, as said by Peter Pan himself,  “One girl is worth more use than 20 boys" (J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan). I need to pre-cook meals on Sundays, prep more the night before, choose meals that don't require so many dishes. I can do this!

Peter Pan has his shadow back.

Troll Face

Wolfie loves it when I press my face against the clear plastic window and make a horrific, low-pitched "hi wolfie!". I decided to take a pic of the underside just to see what exactly was making him melt in a laughing frenzy. Now I TOTALLY get it! Ha!

Daddy loves me

"My Work Day"

"My Work Day" was the caption of this beautiful picture posted on Wolfie's wonderful nanny's facebook page. (heart melts with gratitude).

Busy Day for Nanny Kern

Gift from Pa

Wolfies "pa" and great aunt Betty got together and made this beautiful gid for me for my 31 birthday. It's a garden flag! The wings are sweet Little Wolfies feet dipped in paint. Pa did all the artwork and it even has some glitter on it! What a fun present to open and thank you ain't Betty for organizing this!

Black dragons

This little piggie....

Wolfies piggies were TRYING to get to the market - by wiggling out of Wolfies blanket holes, but they decide just to stay home. Lol.

Little Tough Guy

Pool time

It's been dreadfully hot here in LA, a late afternoon swim seemed the perfect thing to do. It was 5:30 and still very warm outside. The water in the pool was refreshingly crisp and tepid once you got used to it. He loves it. Splashes, kicks, doesn't bat and eyelashes at the experience of water jetting into his face. Sometimes I would hold him close to the warmth of my chest, then I would throw him into the air letting his body splash back into the water. Then I would dip him in all the way down to his neck and hold just his armpits with only my two pointer fingers. I wanted him to experience the weightless of water. I would let him just float and he would just sit quietly...his eyes rolling every which way but his body relaxed and calm. Then would KICK KICK KICK himself out of his daze.

There was a trio of little boys there playing "swamp monster" and it was adorable...wolfie couldn't keep his ees off them! As if almost to be affirming some sort I gender instinct taking inventory in his brain: play gun...good....monsters...good...Prison made out of tipped over lawn chairs, good. He's going to be a "boys boy" that's for certain. His smile told me "look out mama, I'm going to be a REAL boy!"

I love my moment with him. To get out of the house, and away from all the things I should, could, or would "do" with my afternoon. It was dedicated to his experience and his only. Being a working mommy you have to FIND those moments as often as you can. I originally wrote "take" and then corrected myself. No, life is so busy these days. They aren't given for you to take...they already exist but you must find them. Take the time to seek them out.

Babies in White

Something so Fresh and irresistible about a baby in a soft, white onsie after a bath. Smells of lavender and powder, snuggly as a cotton puff.

Baby Bullet: Avacado Mousse Dream

It's been TOO long since I've written on here.  I could use the "b-word" (busy) but that's more annoying than anything.  I'm going to just say that I've missed this portal. . . I've missed the venue and platform to shout to the unquantifiable amount of listeners that I utterly adore and love my family.  So with that said, I'm going to jump right in and try to make up for all the incredible moments I've not documented and try to catch everyone up eventually.

Last night I tried out my "Baby Bullet" for the first time. This was a birthday gift from Bryan and Lauren.  It's basically a small blender where you can easily make and store your own baby food without doing it in the same place that you grind meat for tacos and make margaritas. The blender vessel turns into your "cup" and it comes with adorable little serving containers with smiles on them.  I'll still be turning to my trusted organic jarred baby food, but this is wonderful for taking the food you've prepared for yourself, and churning it into baby food. I love this idea. I love the idea that Wolfie can start to develop his pallet for indian curry, BBQ chicken, and smoked salmon. 

Last night I whipped up an avacadoe mousse. I made the recipe up myself and after Eric and I tasted it, we agreed that it would be a lovely healthy alternative to mayo.  I used an organic avacado (fiber, good fat, oils, vitamins), cottage (good fat) cheese, and a bit of coconut oil (to help move his constipated-prone intestines). He LOOOOOOOVED it.  I could almost hear his little baby thoughts; "wow! REAL food is so much better than baby food!!". 

Ready for Baseball Season!

Thanks uncle Brett for my onsie!

Piano Time

Everyday after work my ritual is to sit with wolfie and have an infant piano lesson. The curriculum consists of sitting wolfie jn his little chair where he can reach the keys. I play and sing and he plunks along with me. Sometimes he stops, his mouth hanging wide open, and just watches me. From the infant development books I'm reading, I believe it that he is unconsciously learning the art of music. Since we started doing this, I noticed that he plays very delicately, and other times he wails on it. This shows me he is learning dynamics. He wiggles his little fingers in the air and is starting to squeal with me while I sing. And as a grand finale, we finish off with a trick his dear ole grandpa taught him...."the Jerry Louis". This consist of holding his legs above the keys while he dances and does the jig on his very own black and white dance floor. He absolutely LOVES this!

4.5 month check up!

Wolfie had another round of shots today and did fantastic! He gave one squeal each time they pricked him, but after he was back to his classic calm wolfie temperament. He loved playing with the paper on the table, haha. He weights 16.5 pounds and is 26" long. He was however VERY tired today from his exhausting ordeal. :)