Well, we're suburbanites for real now. We experienced our first block party.
There were blockades, but why?
Not ONE car came speeding down adjacent streets looking for a way thru to another road.
We had our grills in the street for chrissakes.
Guy whipped up some ribs, tout suite, and I bought freezer pops and made Bay Breezes. The new kids on the block were a big hit. And of course, Spencer had the run of the land. He was this way and that. I think I got about 15 minutes total for sitting and eating. He likes to go down slides face first, likes to climb under tables and play peekaboo, and is learning how to fake me out when I stand in front of him to block him. If he doesn't become some kind of amazing athlete, I'll be SHOCKED.
I think we're being watched too. One of our neighbors was buddy buddy with the previous owner and she's reporting our activities. Kind of weird meeting a new neighbor who casually tells you she's got her eye on you. It's a little freakish. Like we're under surveillance.
Everyone here is involved in education on some level too. There's like at least 3 teachers, one retired bus driver and a counselor. I have half a charter school in my backyard!
So I imagine there will be much recipe swapping and front lawn chatter in the coming months. At the VERY least, there will be many a neighbor coming by to marvel at Guy's landscaping creations - they're already envying his skill. God help us if the less technically inclined fellas get wind of the craftsman's garage we have going. He'll never get the sawdust out of his ears.
I, on the other hand, am perfectly content looking cute, chasing the boy around and making drinks like a good wife should. If they need a Web site worked on or can't figure out why their computers won't work, they know where to find me ;)
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
UGH, I caved.
Oy, I'm already making puns...
Ok let me explain:
See, I bought The Happiest Toddler on the Block, by Harvey Karp, M.D.
The gist of this tome is that you need to talk to your toddler like he/she is a Neanderthal.
Basically you go grunting and sort-of mirroring their panic, anger, frustration and pained expressions in order to communicate your understanding of their needs and to help calm them enough to be receptive to whatever input comes next.
Apparently it can look really silly to behave and speak to your child like a child but the good doctor swears your little one will show improvement once he/she feels you are paying attention and know what he/she wants.
So apparently my son is a savage little creature and I'm like the "monster whisperer". It's a job only a mother could love. HA!
He was put to bed an hour early tonight due to technical malfunction - internal systems meltdown, or the dreaded "temper tantrum". He had one yesterday too, so I'm not all that surprised that another one reared it's head today. I wonder if his brain is beta tesing emotional response. He's been acting like me when I'm PMSing. Weird.
Ok here we go again. It's late and I can't even keep my eyes open anymore. This bites it. What happened to all my energy? hmmmm
Ok let me explain:
See, I bought The Happiest Toddler on the Block, by Harvey Karp, M.D.
The gist of this tome is that you need to talk to your toddler like he/she is a Neanderthal.
Basically you go grunting and sort-of mirroring their panic, anger, frustration and pained expressions in order to communicate your understanding of their needs and to help calm them enough to be receptive to whatever input comes next.
Apparently it can look really silly to behave and speak to your child like a child but the good doctor swears your little one will show improvement once he/she feels you are paying attention and know what he/she wants.
So apparently my son is a savage little creature and I'm like the "monster whisperer". It's a job only a mother could love. HA!
He was put to bed an hour early tonight due to technical malfunction - internal systems meltdown, or the dreaded "temper tantrum". He had one yesterday too, so I'm not all that surprised that another one reared it's head today. I wonder if his brain is beta tesing emotional response. He's been acting like me when I'm PMSing. Weird.
Ok here we go again. It's late and I can't even keep my eyes open anymore. This bites it. What happened to all my energy? hmmmm
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Feelings...Whoa Whoa Whoa
Whoopdedoo.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Babyhugs, Birds, Showers and Idiot Box Rants
Saturday, September 10, 2005, was the first day I received a true hug from my son.
It was around 730-8pm and I'd just come home from refilling our "Growlers" - beer jugs we got at John Harvard's Brewery (try the Pale Ale and get yourself a Stoudt Mud Pie - to die for).
The house was fairly quiet and I figured my boys were upstairs in Spencer's room, getting him ready for bed. I found them in his room, Guy changing Spencer's diaper on our old full size futon mattress, now taking up the dormer area perfectly - a fun cushioned play space. A little goofy smile crept on to Spencer's face as he saw me enter the room. Once the diapering was done, he stood up and snorted and pointed at something.
Guy immediately showed me a new Spencer trick.
"I think he learned this in school, watch this," he boasted while Spencer stood next to him reaching for his glasses.
"Ok Spencer, lie down now."
Spencer giggled and sat, and put his head down on the mattress.
We made the silent movie laugh face (laughing without making noise and grinning like idiots) at eachother and got him to do it a few more times. Amazing how little things entertain a person.
I then asked for a hug and Spencer shook his head no.
"He's gotten really good at saying 'No' , " said Guy as we watched Spence shake his head repeatedly until he almost fell down. I pretended to cry and be sad to see if it'd make him pity me. Instead he smirked and giggled at me. The kid has no sympathy, I tell you.
Guy tickled him, I teased him and helped him finish more milk before bed.
When he was done, he got up from the futon mattress and shuffled over to Guy to give him a hug, which he's done numerous times now to the point of me being jealous. Then suddenly, he wheeled around out of Guy's arms and was shuffling again, but this time towards me.
As I sat cross-legged on the floor with my back leaning on the futon mattress, he shuffled over to me, opened up his arms and threw them around me. My SON HUGGED ME.
I could have held him all night and into next week. I've been waiting for him to learn how to give a hug just for this reason and he finally did it. My son hugged me. He cooed and babbled and rested his adorable head on my shoulder, then chest. He smiled and giggled, pulled back and cupped his hands to clap lightly at my hair and over my ears (he likes to play with the curls), then he collected himself and scooted across the floor to his dad with arms stretched out: Daddy also doubles as taxi, elevator and human transport system.
Spencer hugged his daddy and turned around and then came back over to me again for another go round. I was ecstatic. "My son loves me!" was the only thing I could think of. It was undeniable proof that my son had a connection to me - that he indeed loved me.
Strange how a woman can carry a child in her body for 9-10 months, fall in love with a face she hasn't seen yet, give birth to her child with and fall in love with the being she's created, and have this unexplainable connection, but she isn't always confident that this child will even recognize her upon entry into the world. Or maybe that's just my own insecurity.
Regardless, unconditional love is the best. It's bliss and it's supreme. If there is a God, he's inside your little one when he or she hugs you. That's what a god's love should feel like.
For the record, it has taken me three days to get this out - I CANNOT write late night anymore. I fall asleep mid sentence. Makes a hell of a read the next morning, I'll tell you that. As I write now, the Eagles are getting a whooping by the Falcons. No thanks to some pre-game fisticuffs between Trotter and some shmuck from the Falcons. And by the way, Trotter DID NOT punch the dude. Facemask? Yes, absolutely. Roundhouse? Uh-uh.
Hey I bought like 5 tops and a jacket at Macy's over the weekend: $40.
I LOVE sales. Now if only I could find a cool bag to haul around all my stuff. I'm afraid to buy a big slouchy bag because I lose my keys in those things in like two seconds. Oh whoa is me.
Social Event Hint: Don't take your 1-1/2 year-old to a baby shower. You won't get to talk to anyone, sit down or eat. You will get lots of exercise, so maybe it's ok if you're trying to get in shape again or something. I don't know.
Media Warning: Ok, does anyone give a pig's fart if a soap star and b-rated voiceover actor have a live "dance-off"? Apparently they do 'cause ABC is giving them a show. I wonder how much the winner will donate to help Hurricane Survivors. Heh.
Political Rambling: Yo, America, your government is playing you. Hows about paying attention instead of drowning your sorrows in 'reality' tv? I speak from experience: The "Real World" won't make the real world go away.
Oh and one more thing: My Super Sickeningly Sweet Sixteen on MTV has GOT to be stopped. What could be worse programming for America's youth than 30-60 minutes of spoiled teenagers whining about their lack of boundaries, sky's-the-limit budgets and semi-present parental units, all the while touting their popularity, closet size and duty to throw the world's greatest parties that noone can attend but their own sycophant. I can't believe my eyes anymore and it's not just because my prescription glasses are old.
Monday Night Football calls. GO EAGLES!
It was around 730-8pm and I'd just come home from refilling our "Growlers" - beer jugs we got at John Harvard's Brewery (try the Pale Ale and get yourself a Stoudt Mud Pie - to die for).
The house was fairly quiet and I figured my boys were upstairs in Spencer's room, getting him ready for bed. I found them in his room, Guy changing Spencer's diaper on our old full size futon mattress, now taking up the dormer area perfectly - a fun cushioned play space. A little goofy smile crept on to Spencer's face as he saw me enter the room. Once the diapering was done, he stood up and snorted and pointed at something.
Guy immediately showed me a new Spencer trick.
"I think he learned this in school, watch this," he boasted while Spencer stood next to him reaching for his glasses.
"Ok Spencer, lie down now."
Spencer giggled and sat, and put his head down on the mattress.
We made the silent movie laugh face (laughing without making noise and grinning like idiots) at eachother and got him to do it a few more times. Amazing how little things entertain a person.
I then asked for a hug and Spencer shook his head no.
"He's gotten really good at saying 'No' , " said Guy as we watched Spence shake his head repeatedly until he almost fell down. I pretended to cry and be sad to see if it'd make him pity me. Instead he smirked and giggled at me. The kid has no sympathy, I tell you.
Guy tickled him, I teased him and helped him finish more milk before bed.
When he was done, he got up from the futon mattress and shuffled over to Guy to give him a hug, which he's done numerous times now to the point of me being jealous. Then suddenly, he wheeled around out of Guy's arms and was shuffling again, but this time towards me.
As I sat cross-legged on the floor with my back leaning on the futon mattress, he shuffled over to me, opened up his arms and threw them around me. My SON HUGGED ME.
I could have held him all night and into next week. I've been waiting for him to learn how to give a hug just for this reason and he finally did it. My son hugged me. He cooed and babbled and rested his adorable head on my shoulder, then chest. He smiled and giggled, pulled back and cupped his hands to clap lightly at my hair and over my ears (he likes to play with the curls), then he collected himself and scooted across the floor to his dad with arms stretched out: Daddy also doubles as taxi, elevator and human transport system.
Spencer hugged his daddy and turned around and then came back over to me again for another go round. I was ecstatic. "My son loves me!" was the only thing I could think of. It was undeniable proof that my son had a connection to me - that he indeed loved me.
Strange how a woman can carry a child in her body for 9-10 months, fall in love with a face she hasn't seen yet, give birth to her child with and fall in love with the being she's created, and have this unexplainable connection, but she isn't always confident that this child will even recognize her upon entry into the world. Or maybe that's just my own insecurity.
Regardless, unconditional love is the best. It's bliss and it's supreme. If there is a God, he's inside your little one when he or she hugs you. That's what a god's love should feel like.
For the record, it has taken me three days to get this out - I CANNOT write late night anymore. I fall asleep mid sentence. Makes a hell of a read the next morning, I'll tell you that. As I write now, the Eagles are getting a whooping by the Falcons. No thanks to some pre-game fisticuffs between Trotter and some shmuck from the Falcons. And by the way, Trotter DID NOT punch the dude. Facemask? Yes, absolutely. Roundhouse? Uh-uh.
Hey I bought like 5 tops and a jacket at Macy's over the weekend: $40.
I LOVE sales. Now if only I could find a cool bag to haul around all my stuff. I'm afraid to buy a big slouchy bag because I lose my keys in those things in like two seconds. Oh whoa is me.
Social Event Hint: Don't take your 1-1/2 year-old to a baby shower. You won't get to talk to anyone, sit down or eat. You will get lots of exercise, so maybe it's ok if you're trying to get in shape again or something. I don't know.
Media Warning: Ok, does anyone give a pig's fart if a soap star and b-rated voiceover actor have a live "dance-off"? Apparently they do 'cause ABC is giving them a show. I wonder how much the winner will donate to help Hurricane Survivors. Heh.
Political Rambling: Yo, America, your government is playing you. Hows about paying attention instead of drowning your sorrows in 'reality' tv? I speak from experience: The "Real World" won't make the real world go away.
Oh and one more thing: My Super Sickeningly Sweet Sixteen on MTV has GOT to be stopped. What could be worse programming for America's youth than 30-60 minutes of spoiled teenagers whining about their lack of boundaries, sky's-the-limit budgets and semi-present parental units, all the while touting their popularity, closet size and duty to throw the world's greatest parties that noone can attend but their own sycophant. I can't believe my eyes anymore and it's not just because my prescription glasses are old.
Monday Night Football calls. GO EAGLES!