Mama in La La Land

Ruby is... duhn duhn DUHN... FOUR.

2011-06-28T22:34:00.000-07:00

Holy crap. How did that happen? I feel like someone who just rode some totally insane roller coaster and trying to describe it to someone: "First we were like WAAAH! And then there were some ups and then DOWN REALLY FAST! And it was so scary and weird! But then there was this crazy loop and it was like WOOOH WOOOH! And then it was super fast and scary and we were like AAAAAAACK! And it's still going!"

Anyways, Ru is 4. She's awesome and fun and frustrating and funny and smart and a total nicompoop. Here are some pictures from her party a few weeks ago and dinner tonight. About her party [and let me just tell you right now that as I'm typing this, Kermit is literally trying to push his face between my typing hands, pushing my fingers off the keys. Just so you know the battle I'm waging as I write.]: She told me forever she wanted a princess/pinkalicious/cupcake party. Which I translated to mean "make it pink -- a shit ton of pink." Then she started watching Star Wars, and started telling everyone that she was having a Princess Leia party. Hm. So, I made her shirt to honor her devotion to the Rebellion. Also, I made the skirt (yes! I did!). And we had an awesome face painter. And Ruby makes hilarious, odd faces when she knows the camera is on her.

How fantastic was the make-up artist? SO FANTASTIC.

This was (probably) their literal conversation: "Are you a princess today?" "Yeah I'm a princess today!" "Are you ready to go be princesses?" "Yeah let's go be princesses now!" "Princesses!" "PRINCESSES!!!" AAAAAAHHHH!

24 karat curls!

"Have you tried the purple juice box? Oh my god, you should. It's a-MA-zing."

This was it. The best shot of the four of us from the party. THIS is the best we can do. Ruby could not be more over posing for the camera.

How achingly sweet is that funny smile?

Love. Pure radiance.

This is better. We clearly can't be posed is the thing -- that was the problem with the picture from the party. We cannot try. We must simply be.

Tabitha did not get "make a silly face."

I think Ferris Bueller said it best: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Dude. Truer words, y'know?

P.S. Now that I've edited and uploaded about 400 pictures that I've taken since February, I MAY blog a bit more. MAY. MAY MAY MAY.

March was a MONTH, y'all

2011-04-01T22:11:00.000-07:00

Dear Mes Petits Amis of the Tickly-Webs,

It's been too long, non? I have no excuse other than I am EXTREMELY lazy (I was going to finish that clause with "these days," but let's not have lies among friends). I do actually attribute that laziness to being tired running all over creation after two tiny ones, but when I say that, I'm pretty sure that I'm just making excuses for myself and that, no, it really is a defect of my character.

So let me just tell you, March was ridiculous. Like, ridiculous ridiculous. Can I share a little timeline with you?

March 4 Find out I got the promotion in my office that I applied for. Kind of freak because I'll actually have to work really hard, but then freak more over the pay bump.
March 6 My grandmother dies.
March 14 My first day of work in the new position
March 15 Moving day (just across town, but did you know that you have to still do as much packing and unpacking to move across town and you do to move across the country? I am going to move to Maine next time, just on principal).
March 19 I speak at my grandmother's memorial service, then literally (OK, not really) race across LA to go to a Persian New Year's party immediately after. The nice thing is, my little black dress was able to do double duty.
March 24 We put my dog down. Out of the blue.
March 26 Three of us wake up with sore throats and two of those three had high fevers all day. Turns out to be strep throat. It is also Wade's birthday.

So you see what I mean, ducks? It was up, it was down, it was the best of times, it was a shitty month.

Not all bad, I guess. Tabby didn't get sick, and that was a blessing. We had cool, rainy weather and I got to play pretend Northwesterner off and on all month (but still enjoy 80 weather today, which is my new favorite part of that game). Other than that...

And for one more (large) tally in the "crap" column, the girls have not really been sleeping great since the move. (But really, who are we kidding? If sleeping at night was a subject in school, Tabitha has never really gotten above a C-.) So I'd say on average, we've gotten 4-5 hours of sleep a night since early March. And 4-5 hours a night does not leave you much of a buffer with which to deal with life's slings and arrows, y'know?

Oh yeah, and my dog died. OUT OF NOWHERE. It was torsion. Her stomach got bloated after eating one night, and then it twisted and started cutting off her blood supply. We had to put her down. I am devastated about my grandmother too, don't get me wrong, but at least she had the courtesy to give us a few months' warning. Lulu, the classless thing, just went from healthy to dead in a few hours. Sigh. That was a bad night, y'all.

So frankly, I'm hoping April just gives me a breather. No devastating earthquake in LA, no sickness, no death, nobody losing a job, a limb, even their hair. Just some time to regroup. I know I'm just asking for May to come and beat me up, whatever. Bring it, May. Just leave me alone, April.

Is it too late for Halloween pictures?

2010-11-08T21:14:00.000-08:00

Or how about a week before Halloween? Whatever. They're cute pictures of my kids. Time of year is inconsequential. (And I'm too tired for captions. All four of us are sick + Daylight savings sucks with a baby and toddler = I'm going to post this as is and watch "Castle.")

Not just cod liver oil -- FERMENTED cod liver oil!

2010-10-25T11:45:00.001-07:00

YUM! -- Am I right? Huh?

No?

OK, well I'm still entering this contest to win a bottle, so suck it. Or take a spoonful of it, your choice.

http://www.kitchenstewardship.com/2010/10/22/giveaway-green-pasture-fermented-cod-liver-oil-twenty-winners/

She's, like, seven in cat years.

2010-10-23T23:29:00.000-07:00

Hello. It's my birthday.

Yes indeed! It was Tabby's big day last Saturday! And the bakery celebrated by renaming her.

Here it is in close up in case you missed it.

To be fair, this is how all our Persian relatives say her name, so it's sort of apt.

This was one of those parties that was way more for the adults, but for the few kiddos that were there, this makeshift ball-pit provided much entertainment.

Then it came time to eat the cake. You know how babies always dive into the cake with verve and enthusiasm? Tabs -- not so much. She took a taste and then proceeded to grab at it and enjoy the sensation of smushing it between her fingers.

And then she fed me. Girlfriend fed me the whole piece of cake. If the picture was larger, you could tell that I have whipped cream (seriously, I am a whipped-cream-on-birthday-cake convert. It's decadent and refreshing at the same time. Frosting drools -- whipped cream rules!) all over my face. In fact, if you look closely, you can see it already on my dress. So excited was she about feeding me -- and can we all just note how sweet that is? -- that I actually had to go change and scrub down about five minutes after this picture was taken. Side note: whipped cream residue is an amazing facial moisturizer.

Then we opened presents. Or rather, Ruby opened the presents (except this one); Tabitha played with a balloon. Or rather, Tabitha tried to eat the balloon; Mommy ran over to take it out of her hands every thirty seconds.

And what is a Tabby like at one year old?

She's willful. When she wants to go outside, she will sign for outside until her hands fall off, and she will yell at you until you do her bidding.

She eats like a locust. Until she's done (abruptly), at which point she'll look at you... and drop the remains of her meal on the floor. Slowly. Deliberately.

She's got a wicked sense of humor. Her peek-a-booing skills are clever and quick.

She's fearless. This one sucks as far as I'm concerned. It means that she does stuff like stick her face underwater in the bath (for real? what the hell baby does this voluntarily?). She doesn't fuss about it, unless she accidentally gets water up her nose, but still. It's not normal. And it means that she's also a climber. So, we have this in her room:

I left her in what I thought was her childproofed room for literally a minute (LITERALLY -- I went to go pee), and she had climbed up to the second shelf. Seriously, just kill me now. I do not want to live through the anxiety and stress that these two children are going to cause me. (OK, just kidding, I totally do. For every stressful moment, they make me laugh for at least ten more moments.) She also climbs on the our little kids chairs and up on to the little kids table, where she tried to stand up earlier today. She backwards climbs out the front and back doors. She would've already tumped out of her crib by now if the bumper was solid, but since it just folds down when she steps on it, luckily we have another few months before she jailbreaks on us. Seriously, we're going to have get one of these, and she's going to start calling me Zookeeper instead of Mama:

And, of course, she's doing all this willful, funny, fearless stuff faster and faster these days, because she is walking her little butt off all over the place. More like ten or so steps at a time, but she's getting faster and more sure of herself everyday.

Happy birthday, my curly-haired little heart-attack-waiting-to-happen. You are a peach. I love you.

2010-10-07T22:30:00.000-07:00

Ruby's school was closed the other day, so we had a good old fashioned day at home. Just the sisters, hanging out, jumping in the crib, being hooligans.

Let the wild rumpus start!

Tabby has actually gouged out some areas from the wood on her crib from gnawing. My little hamster.

Mess with the bull, you'll get the horns.

"...and then he was all 'yeah,' and I was all, 'whatever,' and he was all, 'right?'"


"Pee Pie!" (Pee Pie is what my mother in law says instead of peek-a-boo. It is not a pie made out of pee.)

You can't quite tell, but Ruby is pushing T's arms into hugging position.

It's like some seedy bar that I accidentally walked in on.

Here at Inga's Swedish Massage, we really believe in taking time for yourself.

I love this, them playing together. And you know what I'm going to love even more? When they can play by themselves, and I sneak in to take these pictures. But still, this is pretty awesome.

This is one of those things that I never got to do as a kid, so I was the first one to sign up once I was the mom.

2010-09-20T22:01:00.000-07:00

Guess who's mom volunteered to take home the class guinea pigs over the long weekend? (I was asked to be one of the room parents this weekend, and I guess that's what taking care of rodents will earn you. By the way, I am INORDINATELY pleased about this. I will kick so much ass at room parenting, you have no idea.)


We called this one Plaid. There was a black one with a white spot we called Polka Dot (someone's been watching too much "Project Runway"...). We actually came up with these names ourselves because -- oddly -- these two don't have names. I guess since kids cycle through the classrooms all the time (two classrooms share these guys), no names ever stick around long enough ... though couldn't the teachers just pick two names and call it a day? I mean, are they worried the guinea pigs are going to get confused?


Kermit was intrigued as was an un-pictured Lulu. Especially as I frequently took PD and Plaid out and would hold them in front of Lulu's nose. Lulu's squirrel chasing days are over. The old girl needs to get her kicks somehow, you know?

Extreme schnozzular close-up!

We went hiking.

2010-09-15T22:55:00.000-07:00

It was another beautiful SoCal day (Boring! Ho hum!) two Sundays ago, so we went hiking. Or rather, we went for a very sloooow hike, more of a walk -- no, really, actually more of a stroll... Anyways, we had to keep reminding ourselves that it was about the journey, NOT the destination. Good thing too, as we never go to the top of the hill we were hiking.

But it WAS really fun. Tabby just chilled and yelled at the birds, and Ruby ran herself all over the place (just not up the hill).

Here we are in the same parking lot that we got Ru set up to go on her first hike.

Playing the new game we taught her, "EXPELLIARMUS!" (You just get a stick and point it at someone and yell, "EXPELLIARMUS!")

Practicing some James Brown dance moves.

Some other nice moments...

But the highlight of the "hike" (and again, I use that word very loosely) was when Ru found a stick, put it between her legs, and this ensued:

She's not a baby.

2010-09-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

She's not a baby. She's a marshmallow with arms and legs. She's a giant, crawling beam of sunshine. She's a giggle. Holding her is like going down a slide. It's like having bubbles pop all over your face. Ruby is the squeaky wheel, but Tabs is the fun ride. She's fantastic.

And she's growing so fast! In the last few weeks, she's learned quite a few new tricks. She says "BAH!" for ball -- and she can throw a ball hard. Reminds me that I'll have to get a video of our little Fernando Valenzuela... Sometimes she insists "BAH! BAH!" and I won't see it, but then sure enough -- there's the frickin ball behind the couch or under the bed or where ever. She also says "OOH! OOH!" for dog. As in, a doggy says "ooh! ooh!" (which is obviously Tabspeak for "woof woof"). And it's the same thing -- she'll spot a dog WAY before I do, and I know to look for the sure-to-be-there dog.

She's also a climber, so we have to watch her at every minute. She'll try to climb into the bath. Out of the bath. Out of her high chair (I literally caught her standing up in it with one leg out about to take a doozy of a first step). Even out of her crib -- trying to use the bumper as a step. Ruby was in her crib for two-and-a-half years and never tried to climb out. Tabs is not even one. SIGH!

Most of all though, she's just a funny, happy sweet kid. No hang ups (that we can see). No sour moods (yet). She's good times.

PRESCHOOL. Dun dun duuuuun.

2010-08-30T21:35:00.000-07:00

When last we left the deBaronGentzes, Ruby was a mere toddler, hanging out with the nanny/Bibi/Mommy during the day, and Tabby was just a baby (OK, she's still a baby -- not much changed there).

Well, people, the times they are achangin'.

Ruby started preschool on August 2, and has barely looked back. Today she ran in without even saying bye to Wade. I mean, seriously? Seriously? Three weeks ago, preschool was just something that we talked about (incessantly -- and read about and talked about more and more and more).

The first day was fine. They serve breakfast, lunch and after-nap snack there (all made fresh (including the bread) in their kitchen), so Ru happily sat down and served herself (with much help from the, uh, helper) some cereal and poured herself some milk. Then she sat down in for circle time and proceeded to get up and stand up in front of the teacher, in the middle of the circle, every time the teacher took something out to pass around. She stayed for half a day the first day. When I asked her how it went at the end of the day, she told me, "Well, I was kind of scared."

The second day was pretty much the same, though she stayed until after lunch that day. When I picked her up and asked her how it went, I got, "I was just a little bit scared today." By the third day, it was "I was a tiny, tiny bit scared today," and by day four I got, "I wasn't scared at all day!" So that made me feel amazing. (Of course she promptly caught a fever her second day and couldn't go back until Friday, so this was all broken up a little.)

Since then of course, finding out about her day has been like pulling teeth. What did you today? "I don't know." You don't know? "I don't remember." Did you play on the tire swing? "Yes." Did you have fun? "Yes." And so on.

So lately I've been trying Mad/Sad/Glad. OK Ruby, tell me one thing that made you mad today, one thing that made you sad, and one thing that made you glad. "I was just glad! I was only glad today!" This is said very emphatically with giant hand gestures. Of course this pleased me very much, that my little girl was having the best time EVER only a few weeks in to preschool. I felt quite sure that she was making friends left and right and was never ever feeling awkward or unsure. Because I'm smart... and in denial... like that.

We played the Mad/Sad/Glad ~~game~~ farce for another week or so, until today, when I was asking her (read: torturing her) about her day: So who did you play with today? [Blank stare back at me in the rear view mirror.] Did you play with ... Laura? (Laura is a little girl she seems to have hit it off with, along with another girl named Lumi.) "Yes" [said while shaking her head, thumb in mouth so I can't really hear her]. Wait, so you did or you didn't play with Laura? "Well, Laura was playing in the house with Lumi and she told me no no no! Only two people in here you have to go."

OH. So how did that make you feel?

Thumb in mouth, shrugging.

Maybe a little sad?

"Yeah."

So we talked about how sometimes people can be cranky and not nice, even when they're our friends, and I pointed out that she does this too (she's currently in a love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with my sister, to whom she is a total brat, and Wade, to whom she is a little bit nicer).

Then, with a bit more digging, she told me how she played with Gianna today, and something about a bear, and how when Ruby threw the bear up in the air and tried to catch it and said, "Eeeaw eeeaw!" (?) then Gianna laughed and she did it again and again.

So I guess it all comes out as a decent day, but who knows? I'm not quite sure which of these stories carried more emotional weight with her, being excluded from one group or making another kid laugh. I am trying SO HARD to not put my emotional bullshit on her -- my shyness, my insecurities, my social anxiety and inability to be comfortable with new situations -- but it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. Being the mama to an infant is hard because it's so physical all the time, but you can pretty much rely on your body to figure it out -- baby's crying, your arms are already reaching out to pick her up before you've even thought about it; baby's hungry and rooting, you've got dinner right on your chest. Physically demanding, but there are a finite set of answers to a baby's problems. Toddlers? Preschool?? Sheeeeet. She and I are just two tiny things swimming in a wide ocean of possibility (both good and bad), and I'm trying to hold on to her for dear life so she doesn't drown -- but not so tight that she won't learn to swim on her own. It's all about degrees and nuance... and holy baby Jesus, it's exhausting. But kind of fun.

Tabby update to come.

Dear Ruby

2010-06-17T23:30:00.000-07:00

You're off visiting Nonnie and Grandma and Papa Jack and Lacey and Piper and everyone, and Tabby and I miss you! Nonnie sent us pictures of you playing today -- on the slide, blowing bubbles, playing in the sprinklers... You look like you're having a great time, lucky girl. And that was only the first day! You will have so many more adventures and so much more fun in the next few days.

Tabby and are having fun here at home too (but I'm sure it's not as much fun as you're having). We walked to the Whole Foods today (but we did not get any kombucha!), and then Tabby came home and took a nap. When she woke up, we played in her room and outside; we even played in the water, just like you! Tabby wasn't sure if she liked it though, and she kept trying to eat the grass (silly billy!), so we came inside. After she woke up, Bibi came over and we ran some errands. It was nice, but we missed having you around.

The was some big news that happened today though -- your little sister stood up! She pulled herself up in her crib and stood there for a little while! You are going to be so proud of her when you get home and see her doing it. I'm sure she'll practice a lot while you're at Nonnie's, so she'll be very good when you get here to see it. Here are some pictures of Tabs standing.

Isn't that crazy and amazing!? I know if you were here, you'd be saying, "Go, Tabby, go! Go, Tabby, go!"

Have a great time today. Be a good girl and listen to Nonnie. I love you and miss you so much. Can't wait to see you next week!

Love,

Mommy

Your Daily Tabs

2010-06-17T00:03:00.000-07:00

That is all.

First thing in the morning

2010-06-14T21:41:00.000-07:00

I woke up one morning last week and heard Ruby moving around in her room. I left her alone for a few minutes while I attended to Tabitha and then went in. This is what I saw (it's diaper cream -- thick, gloopy diaper cream). This is what I heard: "Would you like a massaaaage?"

So of course I had to run and get my camera before I did anything else. (Ruby is making that face because she (claims to) hate taking pictures.)

And also this:

My title for this work: "Pretty Girl Making Sad Teething Face." Aww...

Funky chickens.

2010-06-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

The other night we were all sitting around, Wade and I feeding the girls, chatting, what-have-you, when Wade started saying "Funky chicken dance" over and over again to Tabs. And, as you'll see, she was DYING. That's one great thing about Tabby. She's so mellow, she's so chill -- but she is SO quick to smile and laugh. It's like a laugh is always right there under the surface. Totally one of my favorite qualities in a person (Lora and Marnie, I'm looking at you).

So then, right after, Ruby decides to get in on the action. So she repeats what Wade was saying ... as she heard it.

Is she in fact saying "Fucking chicky dance"? Yes. Should we have put a stop to it? Probably. Were we literally holding our stomachs, wiping the tears rolling down our faces? Um, hell yes. I seriously thought Wade was going to bust something.

2010-05-10T22:38:00.001-07:00

Home on the range.

2010-03-26T10:12:00.001-07:00

We came to Texas for a visit. Here is what we did this morning.

Life's a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death.

2010-03-17T21:02:00.000-07:00

All day, every day I have things in my head that I want to blog about. And then when I finally park myself on the couch to write... it's gone. I have no idea. My day might have been spent in a sensory deprivation tank, that's how much I remember of my day. I need an Agnes Gooch to follow my Auntie Mame-ass around all day and take notes on all the funny, cute things me and my kids do all day.

Anyways, I did capture Tabitha bouncing very cutely, accompanied in cute bouncing by her nekkid sister who DEMANDS that I "say what Tigger does" every time I put Tabby in the bouncer. Please note her shamrock necklace. Topless with novelty necklaces on a drinking holiday. We're starting her out on the right path.

Brunch with Great Grammie

2010-03-13T20:04:00.001-08:00

We went to brunch with my always entertaining grandmother this morning. I think Ruby might have found a kindred spirit.

Celebrate the moments of my life

2010-03-04T21:48:00.000-08:00

So much is going on lately (and this is new?) and it's all rushing by so quickly, I just need to capture some of it. Pictures (that I have not uploaded) be damned! Text only posts rule for me tonight. In no particular order, here's some stuff I don't want to forget that makes me happy.

A while ago now, Ruby started pronouncing her L's. Do I have video? No -- or at least not right now. Maybe I do somewhere. I don't know. But she started with Llllullllu, which used to be Yudu, and has now moved on to the very advanced "yello." Words like the latter is extremely challenging for her because she used to substitute "Y" for "L" most times, so as she's talking you'll often hear "Lello. No, yeddo. No! Leddo. YEH - lo. Yes, yellow."

Tabitha is thisclose to rolling over, back to front. She actually does make it on to her side, she just has yet to kick a leg over and seal the deal. She's a serial scoocher though -- all over the place. You can't leave her alone in anything but an enclosed or wide open space.

We sleep train Tabs tomorrow night. Actually, she's kind of sleep trained herself already. About 50% of the time we put her down wide awake WHICH IS AWESOME. The other 50% is some combination of her fussing it out for 5 minutes, us going in and giving her paci back, and us rocking and shushing her for another 5 minutes. Tomorrow night is really just going to be taking away the swaddle and pacifier, which is going to make her hate us in just as extreme a way as if we were sleep training her. Whatever kid. You can't go to college still swaddled. What, you're going to make your new roommate do it every night for you? You'll get a reputation as a very weird person. And not in a cool Lazlo Hollyfield sort of way. [Note: I didn't post this right away so now we're at night two, and SHE'S DOING AWESOME!]

More to come when I don't want to watch The Office and when my spacebar is working.

Getty with the Gentzes (and a deBaroncelli)

2010-02-17T20:32:00.000-08:00

Mistress of all she surveys.

Mike was here a few weeks ago and we took advantage of the gorgeosity of the day to head out to the Getty Center. It's sort of stunning. Take that place and add a nice camera? We all look like models there.

[Also for the record, the new picture loading process that Google/Blogger has decided to employ is bullshit and makes me want to kick the internet. I literally cannot move these effing pictures around to add captions, and when I hit enter to add space between pictures, things that say "Left Center Right" etc. appear OFF my webpage up near my url line. WTH?]

[I FIGURED IT OUT! Jesus, Blogger. Holding "Shift" down while I hit "Enter" is NOT intuitive. A-holes.]

Ahem. This is Ruby running with a little boy. This is her favorite thing to do when she sees other kids playing: just start running with them. Running in circles, giggling her head off. What was nice about this little boy is that it appeared to be his favorite thing too.

Tabs was supposed to be asleep, but mostly she just chewed her hand and checked things out.

Me, with Mike and Tabs discussing the art in the background. Kidding of course -- we never made it in to look at the art (which almost always happens here -- the grounds are so beautiful, who wants to go inside?!).

Checking out the (nonexistent) fish. Shortly after this shot she tried to take off her shoes and walk in the water, which then turned into a photo essay of me trying to get her shoes back on. My butt crack is the main feature of said essay, which is why you are not seeing those shots.

"I'm telling you, Rembrandt's best stuff was came after he switched to oils, not during his charcoal period. Oils."

Tabs' comedy routine

2010-02-16T22:09:00.000-08:00

Her material's a little blue, but I like it.

So You Think You Can Write

2010-02-10T21:58:00.001-08:00

I'm entering a writing contest, and to be eligible, I have to link to the contest on my blog. So: http://www.guidetoliteraryagents.com/blog/CategoryView,category,Contests.aspx

Ru and Tabs, I'm sorry if this turned you into obnoxious girly-girls who are into things like bedazzling.

2010-02-07T22:43:00.000-08:00

But the cheaper of the car seat options that I'm looking at and will ultimately order is this one with a horrific Pepto Bismal pink and flowered car seat cover. I suppose that means I place a higher value on frugality than on gender neutrality. Hopefully that will comfort me when you two are begging me to let you paint your walls in pink sparkles while wearing flower-printed ruffled dresses and lavender boas, complaining about how you hate math.

Things that will be different.

2010-02-07T21:55:00.000-08:00

The following things will change from the beginning of February to the end of February.

We will have a new (or rather "new to us") car (done by now actually).
Ruby will be sleeping in her big-girl bed if the bed people ever send us the frakking bed that we ordered.
The nursery will be finished -- cleaned out, organized, decorated-ish. Four plus months after the baby was born.
Tabitha will be sleeping in her crib in said nursery (at least for naps, but please god and baby Jesus let her be sleeping through the night and maybe I'll move her to the crib at night too).
I will be (am now because I started this list ages ago in my head) at work again.
We will have hired a nanny (which means our house will be tidier and our children probably happier at least two days a week).
Ruby will be enrolled at a preschool for the fall (though we may abandon our deposit at said enrolled-at preschool and jump ship to the bestpreschoolofalltime at UCLA if we get in this summer).
My sister will be in Africa for two months. As Ruby says, "Peace out, Niks!"

Change makes me nervous! GAH!

Her Delta Chi name is "Snot."

2010-01-30T23:48:00.000-08:00

Tabitha has had a runny nose on and off for over a month. The pediatrician is unconcerned, but what the eff does he know? His prescription: "Suction her nose vigorously." Sigh. I do it (we call the bulb thingy "The Snorgler"), but I think Tabitha is starting looking into emancipation proceedings.

So to recap: We have the stuffy nose that won't go away. And we have reflux (for which the same doctor told me that I need to hold her upright after each feeding for 45 minutes -- did I do something bad to this man?), symptoms of which include SCREAMING and massive spewing of my barely digested breast milk.

I wouldn't even care that much about the stuffy nose -- or rather, I wouldn't worry about it (of course I care, poor snorty little piglet!) -- except for the fact that she has been eating very frequently at night -- every three hours, while during the day, it's every four. We had been going almost the whole night between feedings -- like 10 p.m. til 4 or 5. But now? 10. 1. 4. 7. Add the ~~sadist's~~ pediatrician's instructions about holding her upright for 45 minutes after each feeding, and that means if I go to bed at 11, I sleep 2+2+2 = 6 hours total = so not awesome.

I can only guess that the increased feeding has something to do with the fact that I'm nursing a snorting and snuffling baby rhino and not my little baby girl. Whatever. I just need more sleep, so, stuffy nose? Go the eff away so I can do some assertive nighttime weaning.

[What's hilarious is that I started this post three or four GD nights ago, but because I'm sofa king tired at night and because Wade's been working his little behind off (which means that the computer's been taken up at night, which means no blogging), I'm only finishing this now. And now Tabitha's nose is all un-stuffed and she's feeling all better (though still eating round the clock -- WHAT IS THAT ABOUT?). Of course now that I say that... I'm probably jinxing myself again. Ha!]

I should know when to shut my damn mouth. [Subtitle: JINX!]

2010-01-21T15:42:00.000-08:00

I do it when I'm driving too. "Wow, can you believe we haven't hit any traffic?" Five seconds later: brake lights as far as the eye can see. Simultaneous to me hitting "Publish Post" last night, Tabitha started screaming. And crying. And not sleeping. And most certainly not smiling.

When we were at her three month appointment, the pediatrician did mention that she has reflux, but it never seemed to bother her -- it just resulted in her tossing up half my milk after every feeding (another reason that she's not quite as big, as quickly, as her sister). As I am fighting a nasty sinus infection, I indulged in four enormous glasses of OJ yesterday. Guess what sends refluxy babies into a tizzy?

OJ!

Oy vey.

Literally, every hiccup, every burp, every time I lay her down last night and today, she wailed. She screamed. Noises I've never heard from her. She actually pouted and whimpered for a while -- and it was so delicious that I wanted to put her down and grab a camera, but that doesn't go over well. Finally, I took her in the shower with me since she usually likes that, and we just hung out in there til the water got cold. Whatever works, you know?

I've pumped and dumped this morning, and she's eaten since then and is sleeping now, so I'm hoping that we're past the OJ burps once she wakes up. If not, I'm going to get a pout picture even though it'll piss her off.

Dear Tabitha

2010-01-20T21:24:00.000-08:00

Today is your three month, ~~two~~ ~~four~~ eight day birthday, so um... happy whatever to you! I'm celebrating by renewing my commitment to recording your life here. You'd probably hate me otherwise. I mean, Ruby has the book that Nikki made of her first year of life, created with excerpts from this blog, and has recently been super into looking at it. It's kind of awesome actually. Seeing that book then inspired me to go back and looking at what Ru was doing at your age. And because I want to be able to do the same for you (and because, again, I don't want you to hate me when you're old enough to realize that you don't have a book/blog entries), I realized I have to get on this shit. So, dear Tabby Cat, you are my audience for this blog from here on out. If that doesn't motivate me, I honestly don't know what will.

First a little recap on your first 94ish days on earth -- because while I would love to go back and backblog those first few months, unless you and your sister decide to take a vacation by yourselves for a few weeks, I don't see that happening. Though, keep in mind, it's all sort of a haze of sleepiness and swaddling.

I used the hell out of my iphone. My first memories of you are walking/rocking/shushing late at night, singing to you and forgetting lyrics and then looking them up on the phone; checking in on facebook as I rocked you, playing Tetris as I shushed you in your bassinet. Judge me not, little kitten. I could/can only stare at your sweet, sleeping face for so long. Boredom is the nasty, underpublicized foe of most new mothers. I have been a much happier new mom this time around, thanks in no small part to that little handheld computer.
You took to the bottle and pacifier with SO MUCH less drama than your sister. So, thank you very, very much for that.
I hunted down Brandi (aka our sleep witch doctor), almost literally (at one point I'm positive she started screening my calls) to make sure that we get this sleep thing right from the beginning. All she kept saying was "Try and put her down drowsy but not asleep." Um, easy for you to say, Sleep Guru. And yet... and yet... at 94ish days in, we're doing it! Not for every sleep, not yet, but for most naps and at night, we can sing her a song and rock her until she's just starting to close her eyes, and then we put her down, and then she stays asleep. Most of the time. So far. And it took 94ish days.
I watched a lot of TV. Snooki's back flips on "Jersey Shore" (and MTV's respective bluring out of her hootenanny) will forever be associated with your sweet suckling at my breast.

And I got to know you. You big, sweet, smiling, chatty baby, you. I've never been a baby-type person, and I may be a leeetle biased, but oh my god, you are a wonderful baby! (Don't make me eat my words in a few years, k?). You're incredibly social, for starters. You started smiling a few weeks in and haven't stopped. In fact, I'm more surprised when you're not smiling. Don't you know that your parents are anti-social misanthropes? Where's your commitment to the family ideology? And damn, but you like to chat! A little eye-contact, and you're all like "Oh, what? You're finally listening? OK, because wait til you hear the shit that's been going down around here..."

As we all know, you were extremely LARGE at birth. Thank the baby Jesus for the epidural, because your sister was a full pound and a half smaller than you and I thought I was going to split open from having her. Well, your three-month appointment was yesterday, and here are your stats:

Weight: 15 lbs., 2 oz. (95th percentile)
Height: 24.5 inches (75th percentile)
Head circumference: 16 inch (50th percentile)

You seem incredibly long for a baby, but apparently your sister was a scoch longer than you, but at two months. So, damn, Ruby. I do think I was overfeeding her (Most frequent exchange heard during Ruby's first three months: "Why is the baby crying?" "I don't know." "Maybe she's hungry?" "OK, I'll feed her."), but that's neither here nor there. (Sorry, Ru. Hope that I didn't scar you for life/give you an eating disorder.)

Eh, but enough about facts. Let's go to the tape (or photos as the case may be).

[OK, f'ing blogger has done something totally janky with its photos in the time since I last posted pictures, which clearly has been a while, and I can't get them in the order I want, just in the order I uploaded them. So, deal.]

Sleeping beauty (and notice the hands up in the air? she falls asleep like that

Ruby loving on Tabs.Ruby loving on Tabs.

Merry Holidays!

2009-12-27T21:57:00.000-08:00

Hello all! I come to you from the land of 11-week-old sweet, smiling babies, and bratty, feverish two-and-a-half year olds. Christmas was great -- overwhelming, and we're going to have to move into a bigger house with a separate wing for toys and stuff, but great. I would post pictures here, except... blogger is telling me I've surpassed my quota or something. I think it's because I have pictures on picasa, but when I tried to delete them from picasa, I think it was also deleting them from my hard drive. Or something. Anyways, pictures are not loading easily. I'm working on uploading some to flickr, and when that happens, I'll put them up here. Sheesh. Technology is such a pain in the ass.

I'm tuckered out. Eh, what else is new? And also, if I'm being honest, these days I'm quite jealous of people with no kids. I love mine. Really, truly I do. But all these great movies are out, and people with no kids -- no newborns, specifically -- can just go out whenever they want. I am not sure, but I think someday that may happen for me. It's like a fairytale I want to believe in very badly. Anyways.

So here are my updates:
Tabitha is lovely. She's a sweet, smileysmileysmiley, chatty baby. She's also drop dead gorgeous (you know, for a baby). I remember with Ruby, when she was around two months old, I had to tell myself that I had to start liking her. I loved her, but I didn't like her yet. I think more realistic expectations helped me this time, but I liked Tabby right away. And I don't know if it's because I'm more chilled out or if it's because I know how much sleep T needs and make sure that she's getting it, but she's so mellow.

Ruby is still awesome, but in a less mellow, more "completely insane" sort of way. At any given moment she's the sweetest girl in the world, murmuring sweet words to her sister (who she ADORES) or running up to give a spontaneous hug and tell you she loves you.... OR she's screaming "I don't yike that!" or "I don't want that!" or just screaming to scream. And she's dropping her nap. So that's awesome.

OK, I really do plan on blogging more again (I know, I know, same old song and dance). Pictures forthcoming (I hope). In the meantime, happy new year, y'all!

I crushed it on my first afternoon alone. Mostly.

2009-12-01T22:23:00.000-08:00

I have to go feed Tabs in about three seconds, but I wanted to publicly pat myself on the back for (um, finally) taking care of both girls--on my own--for the afternoon and evening. That's the hardest time, because everyone's up and needs to be entertained, fed, bathed, gotten ready for bed and then put down. And we're dealing with two divas with very different schedules. I got Tabs down finally at 7 -- poor kid crashed out since she'd been crying most of the afternoon since I couldn't hold her as much as she'd like since I had to do stuff for Ru too. Then I finished getting Ru ready and down by 8. And now it's 10 and Tabs needs to eat again and then I have to go to bed. So that means I get two hours to myself -- to clean up the hellhole that my house became during the day, to feed myself, and to VEG THE FRAK OUT for a minute. Even now, it's really 10:20 and I'm overdue to feed Tabs (we do a dream feed, wherein I give her a bottle preemptively before she wakes up). I'm playing with fire here people. I was going to upload pictures, but I truly do not have the time. Pictures will, again, have to wait. At 7 weeks, 1 day, I am -- maybe, possibly -- starting to get the hang of things barely, barely, barely.

Thanks.

2009-11-26T20:50:00.000-08:00

Here is what I am thankful for:

The people I take care of.
The people who take care of me.
That we started letting Tabitha fuss a bit when going down at night on Monday, and now, on Thursday, she's sleeping and it's quiet and I have a minute to blog.
My home.
My health.
My job.
My education.
That Texas is currently winning.
That the future seems wide open with possibility and opportunity.
Glee. Modern Family. The Daily Show. Always Sunny. The Soup. 30 Rock. Community.
The unintentional humor in "New Moon."

If Tabitha really truly starts sleeping at night without being rocked for an hour and then up every ten minutes thereafter, I promise to resuscitate this blog.

XOXO, world. I love you tonight.

Why does Tabs hate me?

2009-11-18T03:36:00.000-08:00

She slept great today, but is now antisleep after her middle of the night feeding. Not sure which I prefer, actually. The other reason I'm sure she hates me: she'll eat a ton, but then root and root and root, looking for something to suck on. But all attempts to give her the paci are met with gagging, coughing and looks of such malevolence they'll give you nightmares. Of course, all that lasts for only about 30 seconds, and then she loves it. But until then, seriously it's like you're waterboarding her. But tonight after one especially dramatic paci refusal, I googled some tips on getting a baby to take a paci and followed one of them: I smeared a tiny dab of strawberry jam on the damn thing. Voi-freaking-la! She only refused it for a second before she figured out what a tasty treat I was offering her. Perhaps her majesty will reward me tomorrow with another good sleep day (and a better sleep night). Strawberry jam to the rescue!

I just remembered I can blog from my phone!

2009-11-17T03:28:00.001-08:00

Though it won't be much of a post. Just a quick one to say that posts will continue to be few and far between until I am slightly less exhausted. It is a handful to deal with two! And I've had help (in the form of Nonnie Pat, my mom and my sister) nearly every single day! Sad really that I can't quite manage on my own, but even with that said, it is SO much easier this time around. Of course, Tabs being on a sleep strike today was lame as hell, and Ru was also a huge pill which didn't help... But other than that-- cinchy! Now excuse me, but the little striker us finally asleep so I'm going to pass out now too. Peace.

Better late than never.

2009-11-02T22:15:00.000-08:00

Here.

I guess two weeks is long enough.

2009-10-26T14:31:00.000-07:00

A woman's post-partum body is a wonderful, miraculous thing, especially after pushing out 10+ pounds through a hole that is usually less than one centimeter in diameter. There's the biscuit-dough stomach. The vagina with PTSD and the 1000-yard stare. The 'roid rage (and I ain't talking steroids, ladies). The various pinpricks from IVs, epidural, Rhogam, bloodwork. The engorgement that comes when your boobs think they need to feed the entire west coast.

And yet, two weeks from the moment you've pooped out 10 lbs of baby, it's almost all just a memory. The tummy is, well, not flat, but at least more parallel to my body than perpendicular. The vadj is recovering, with much therapy (talking about what happened helps). The 'roids are not raging. The pinpricks have healed. The boobs and I have come to an understanding that it's just the one child we need to feed.

All that means that I get to focus on the whole damn point of it all. Ladies and Germs, may I present, in her debut blog performance, Mam'zelle Tabitha (and her veteran co-star La Ruby).

Ruby, totally fascinated at the first meeting.

Checking out the newbie. Ru has wanted to be way more hands-on than I thought she'd be, so our mantra with her has been, "Gently. Gently."

And she's totally getting it, as displayed by how gently Ru placed T's new toy over T's face and mouth.

Three of her many hairstyles. The George Clooney circa "ER."

The Don Draper.

The punk-rock girl ("...just you and me punk-rock girl...").

Playing model for the camera. The child's not ugly, so at least there's that.

POOPING!

Ruby, practicing the big sister thing.

I daily try not to die from the cuteness.

And, of course, life would not be complete without all this adorablity being tempered by lameness. Within three days of bringing Tabitha home, Ruby came down with a runny nose, and then a hacking, croupy cough, and then a fever. As if the threat of swine flu every time we leave the house isn't enough, I have this shit to deal with. However, as you can see, illness has not affected our Ms. Ru's personality, as was displayed today during our afternoon of painting.

Aaaand scene.

2009-10-12T13:44:00.001-07:00

Tabitha Mariam deBaroncelli Gentz. Born at 12:59 pm. 10lbs, 4 oz (!!!). 20.5 in.

And now I'm going to eat every piece of food in the hospital.

STILL in goddamn labor.

2009-10-12T12:13:00.001-07:00

I have got to be at like 11 cm. They say I'm going to start pushing soon, but it's all lies.

I AM HUNGRY. The Donger need food.

Tabitha Mariam deBaroncelli Gentz, get your ass out here now!

Rock steady

2009-10-12T08:42:00.000-07:00

So I was at 9.5/10 cm and they popped my bag of fluid--which apparently was the only thing holding my cervix open because then I went back down to 6 or 7. Asshole cervix!

This would have been a real tragedy if I did not have the epidural (in that I would have killed everyone in the room), but as I do have an epi-d, I am A-OK. Starving as fuck, but A-OK. Ice chips are not all that filling as it turns out.

So now we're waiting just a leeetle bit more. La-di-dah.

From the front line.

2009-10-12T06:20:00.001-07:00

Got an epidural. Yelled at everyone after they gave me too much. Made the anesthesologist get out of bed to turn it down (which she loved). Am somewhere near 9 cm currently and doing just fine thank you.

Let's hear it for iPhones!

Am at the friggin hospital.

2009-10-12T02:25:00.000-07:00

The situation in my hoo-hah.

2009-10-11T10:40:00.000-07:00

Alright people, here's where we're at:

I had some serious contractions most of Friday night -- from about midnight to five -- about 20 to 30 minutes apart. I was SURE that this was it. So in the morning, even though they pretty much stopped, we called W's mom (who was due to arrive on Tuesday anyways but who wanted to come earlier if it looked like T's arrival was imminent). And then I prepared to endure some serious labor for the rest of the day.

And then... nothing.

So I figured that that night (last night, Saturday), after W's mom had arrived, the shit would hit the fan again and I'd really be in for some serious labor.

And then... nothing. (Am I complaining? NOPE. That labor shit hurts. Even though I'm pretty darn sure I'm getting an epidural, I am in no rush for the pain that comes before I go to the hospital -- though I am anxious to meet little T.)

So anyways, I slept off and on last night -- amazingly well from 6 to 10 a.m. -- and then a GIANT contraction woke me up from out of nowhere. And another one 30 minutes later. So... I guess I'm in labor... again?

Whatever. Things are progressing. I'll keep updating here. That is all.

I will have a baby at some point in the future.

2009-10-09T22:56:00.000-07:00

That could be tomorrow or sometime in 2010. But at least we're narrowing it down.

Saw the baby doc again today -- my last scheduled appointment, at 39.5 weeks -- who checked my dilation again. I predicted maybe 1.5 cm, but she said "No, more like 2 or 3." WHAT? Really?! Because that's progress! "Well, I can stretch you out to 2 or 3 centimeters."

OK, I call shenanigans on that, Doc. Because when I'm at the hospital, laboring at 8 cm, you're not going to be all, "Well, I can just stretch you to 10 and then we'll deliver!"

So whatever, I'm probably like 1.5 or 2 cm. No word on effacement or stations or anything like that. We have a bit of mucous (mmm!), so again -- whatever. Now is good. Next week is good. It's all good. If I was hard pressed, I'd predict that I'm at least at the hospital by Sunday or Monday, but who knows? If not, the doc asked me to come back for some monitoring on Tuesday.

So we'll see... We'll see...

In case you were wondering...

2009-10-04T16:42:00.000-07:00

I have not had the baby yet. I'm holding fast at 38.5 weeks, stopped working last week, and am just effing enormous. I went to the doc on Friday, as I will every Friday until T rears her little head, and am still one centimeter dilated (fyi, that's one out of ten, so one is not far along at all). I have had a few practice, real contractions (not even Braxton Hicks, just regular ones) here and there, but nothing consistent at all. All that to say, we're not going to the hospital tonight. Or tomorrow night, or probably the night after that. Or ever. I have always been pregnant, and I will always be pregnant.

In other news, Ruby's lost her damn mind. I thought we'd entered, embraced and were successfully handling the terrible twos. Oh lord no. Those little bursts of independence were joyful moments of exuberance compared to her behavior lately. The moment you tell her 'no' it is 0 to 60 in a second flat. Screaming, wailing, hitting, kicking, laying down where ever we are and going boneless... it's a freaking pleasure cruise. So that's awesome that it's coinciding with the imminent arrival of the new one -- which, of course, probably has something to do with the ramping up of the charm school behavior. Whatever, it doesn't make it any less ridiculous. (And for the record, that's what it is -- ridiculous, ludicrous, annoying, even kind of amusing sometimes. In a way -- in a small, small, teeny tiny way -- it makes me love her more.)

Bish, please.

2009-09-24T15:39:00.000-07:00

I knew it. Last night at the objine doctor, she told me I was maybe one centimeter dilated. Please, my dead grandfather is more dilated than that. All that to say, this baby is going not going to come out of my boy-howdy anytime soon (much cred to last night's "Glee" for that euphemism; may be the best one I've heard yet). W and Ru are in Tejas, I'm being babysat by my mom and sister, and all is right with the world (except I miss them painfully).

Also, I'm copying this idea:

So... sometime between now and Halloween, I guess?

2009-09-21T23:53:00.000-07:00

So I went to the baby doc last Friday and asked, "When do I get my next ultrasound?"

In another two weeks if you haven't had the baby yet.

UM, whuuuut? At this point I still had four weeks left, so to cut that time in half was a little... alarming. So then I happened to mention (read: screech out in genuine panic) that W and Ru were going to Texas this weekend, which falls in that "two weeks if you haven't had the baby yet" time frame. To which, the baby doc said:

Hmm. You'd better come in the day before they leave. If you're at four centimeters or more, they probably shouldn't go.

OK, now we're officially off the reservation. Because that, dear friends, is in two days. In two days, la docteur will check my cooch and tell me if they baby is coming right then or not. I AM NOT DUE UNTIL MID-OCTOBER.

But let's breathe. Because, last time at least, I was in labor for at least eight to ten hours before I went to the hospital, and I was just then at four centimeters. Since I haven't had any signs of labor or pre-labor yet (Punxsutawney Mucous Plug has not shown his head to let us know if we have another three weeks of pregnancy or not), I am trying to remain calm. And frankly, even if T showed up right now, we'd be fine. There's just so much more stuff I'd like to get done beforehand -- silly nesting instinct.

Anypoodle. That's where we are. There are actually things (funny things! interesting things!) going on in my life that don't have to do with this pregnancy... and yet, with limited energy for this blogging bidniz, this is what you get.

I make big babies and I cannot lie, you other mothers can't deny...

2009-09-11T11:16:00.000-07:00

Went to the baby doc this a.m. -- #2 is definitely head down, which is good.

The other major piece of news is that she's currently estimated to weigh in at 8 lbs., give or take .5 lbs. So she could (again, currently) weigh as little as 7.5 lbs or as much as (gulp) 8.5 lbs. Taking into account the fact that babies, on average, gain .5 lbs per week during the last month, #2 should weigh in at 9.5 to 10.5 lbs.

!?!?!?!?!?

So when I say she is head down, what I mean is that she has her massive, lady-part-stretching, already-grown-out-of-0-3-month-clothes head down, ready to rip me apart.

Oh dear god.

That's my name, don't wear it out.

2009-09-08T16:41:00.000-07:00

Ruby's been very into asking what people's names are. Today in the car, we had this exchange.

"What's your name, Mommy?"

"You know my name, silly. What is it?"

"Michelle Mommy Gentz!"

"Exactly."

...

[In case it needs explaining, only the first two are actually my names.]

That's me in the comic strip.

2009-08-28T10:34:00.000-07:00

In case anyone out there is still reading this, I have not posted in um, a while because I have been working out some ridiculous insomnia issues for the last six weeks or so. Like, maybe I've been averaging three hours a night? Maybe four? It doesn't make me sleepy so much, just so very very low energy during the day. OK, maybe a bit snippy too.

The insomnia is due to three things: Restless Leg Syndrome (also known at our house as "the twitchy legs"); frequent, frequent peeing at night; and the general inability to just... drop off. Not so much a racing mind as a stupid meandering, moseying, half-asleep mind that won't just lay down and stop.

And I've tried everything to remedy these three issues. Yes, that. Uh huh, that too. That one? Done it. I would list them all there, but it's getting late and I have an appointment with my bed to get in and just lay there.

Next (and final?) ultrasound this Friday! We'll see if #2 has spun yet. She's certainly doing something in there -- Modern dance? Bikram Yoga? Cirque du Soleil? We'll find out on the auspicious date of 9/11.

X not Y.

2009-08-18T10:54:00.000-07:00

So I think we might have settled on a name, or rather Ruby has settled on a name that we like too.

We had it narrowed down between two, and for the last month or so, we asked her, "Which name do you like better Ru, X or Y?" and ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS she said "X."

[Note: I am not sharing this X name here (nor will I share the Y name, which every one loves but which I now can't stand). Originally with this baby, we had abandoned the secrecy that we shrouded the name "Ruby" with and started telling a few people here and there, and suffice it to say, the reception's been a bit cooler than I cared for. To the point where my mom has flat out told me that she does not care for that one and has proffered several other options. I could care less about people's opinions once the baby is out because then it's a done deal, but in the meantime it's making me insecure and neurotic, so no more name-telling.]

Anyways, back to Ruby. She has now started telling us, unbidden, that "X is da baby in Mommy's tummy." Or if you ask her the baby's name, she'll say "Baby name X. Baby name not Y. NOT Y." She is very emphatic about it. This X name, btw, is the same one that months and months ago she came up with completely on her own when we had never even mentioned it before. Truly, I sort of feel like she is tapped into some sort of greater cosmic consciousness that we are not connected to and we need to respect that. Yes I know she's only two. Yes I know we can totally change our minds. But I like this name. I think W likes this name pretty well. Ruby clearly likes it. We may have reached consensus, people.

Wherein I complain A LOT. Suck it.

2009-08-05T21:20:00.000-07:00

Remember how I was going to blog a bunch more often? Mmm, me too.

And I really was... until I took this heinous prenatal yoga class two weeks ago. Everything felt fine until this tiny twinge caught my notice about halfway through the class. An hour later that twinge was downright uncomfortable. An hour after that I was taking a Tylenol, and by that night I couldn't lie down in any position, could barely sit, and was really only OK if I was walking around. So for two nights straight, I paced. I stood. I occasionally sat for a few minutes.

I have not pulled an all-nighter since college -- much less two in a row -- and without overstating it, let me just say it was hellish. I collapsed for about 20 minutes on night (really morning) #2, facedown on an giant pile of pillows before the pain woke me up again, but that was it. Since then, I've averaged maybe four hours of sleep per night. Thanks to repeated massage and chiropractic sessions (who knew that was a real thing?), I can lay down on one side to sleep without much pain -- which is lame. My right ear actually hurts from sleeping on it too much. And my masochist of an OB tells me I can only take one Tylenol every 8 hours for the pain (which I've actually stopped doing because it didn't even seem to have an effect) an a Benadryl every few nights to help me sleep. Hand to god, I probably took a total of three Tylenol when I was pregnant with Ru -- but this poor child is already a pill popper in utero.

Anyhoo, it is getting better. Slooooooooooooooowly (I might die of old age before this pulled/strained/pinched whatever is all better) but surely.

But really, that all fits in with the larger theme here. #2, I love you desperately already. I truly cannot wait for you to get here -- and the reason I cannot wait is 50% because I'm so excited to meet you (what are you like? do you like the chocolate coconut ice cream I'm sending your way? how bout the NPR in the mornings, is that OK? what about when I poke my belly trying to get you to kick for my friends and family -- too much?) and 50% because (and here it is folks, here is when I stop being polite and start getting real) I DON'T LIKE BEING PREGNANT.

And now it's out there. I can't take it back.

OK, so I won't take it back, but I will amend it a tiny bit. I mostly hate being pregnant, but I sometimes love it, so really, it averages out to not liking it. I don't like the eleventy million food/drink/drug restrictions. I don't like the bajillion pills I take (prenatal of course, calcium to prevent leg cramps, DHA for big brained babies, fiber for the pooping, B12 so I have energy). I don't like my MASSIVE boobs. I don't like having a hormone-caused discoloration on my upper lip that makes me look like I have a five o'clock shadow -- a hormonestache, if you will? I don't like peeing ever 15 minutes (and having to be ridiculously strategic about when and how much liquid I drink past, say, 8:45 p.m.). I don't like feeling (and sounding) like a I just sprinted up a flight of stairs if I do something random like go put laundry in the dryer. And I REALLY hate how tired I always always always am -- insomnia/pain doesn't help this one, but even if I'm "well-rested," that's a relative term. Whatever. The list goes on. And on and on...

The parts that are great are really great (hello little kicks and flutters! nice to see you awesome hair!), but on the whole, I want to smack all those women who exude the miracle of all creation from their every pore. Suck it bitches, I'm choking on a horse-sized calcium pill and haven't pooped in three days.

But what's that you say? You want to actually see pictures of the science experiment that is me and my pet parasite, #2? Because I had all kinds of pregnancy pictures up here when I was knocked up with Ruby and haven't done any for #2? OK.

Me on 7/4 at 25.5 weeks-ish (please note the red, white, and blue apparel):

Me on 8/5 at 30 weeks (here, please note my pissed off expression as I was still in severe pain and also how my boobs are the widest part of my body. Honestly I'm expecting to just topple over any moment now):

Here's a video of Ruby doing me (mom is stage-directing).

And just so we don't end on a sour note: TOMATOES!

My accidental tomato plant (apparently some of the seeds in my compost pile weren't killed the way they were supposed to and now we have a tomato plant growing in the same pot as our lime tree -- instant salsa!) is bearing fruit. Ruby's favorite thing to do is run out there and let me know if the tomatoes are ready ("iss red! da tomato is red!") or not ("oh no, iss still geen"). She refuses to eat them though; we just play with them till they smush and I recompost them.

Ruby on her Throne.

2009-07-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

Anytime we're in the kitchen, and frequently when we're not, this is where you'll find Ruby (thanks Liz!). She lives in her little Learning Tower. Here's a discussion we had.

For the record, I'm 99% sure she's saying "...you'll never know dear, how much I love TALK..." (as in talking) when she's singing "You are my Sunshine."

Ruby turns 2!

2009-07-24T21:54:00.000-07:00

It was almost a month ago now, but Ruby turned two (yay!) and we had a party (yay! and also ohdeargod). Here are the pictures from it.

Ruby with her new Latina/Middle-Eastern/African-American baby doll.

You know how some kids get all shy when they're the center of attention? Not Ruby. She led the two choruses of "Happy Birthday."

Festive Grandpa.

The kids played surprisingly well together seeing as there was only one bubble-thing...

...though maybe not such a surprise seeing as how the ratio of adults to kids at the bubble thing was 2-1.

Ruby trying out a few of her presents (post party, post nap).

Girlfriend is so into making tea these days, it's ridiculous.

And then serving it up nudie-patootie style.

It was a good day.

Blame the iPhone.

2009-07-24T14:24:00.000-07:00

Ever since I got it, I use it in place of my laptop at home. So I'm either on the computer at work or the phone to check email, etc. -- almost never on the home computer, which is, of course, where all my pictures and videos are. And you people have made it loud and clear that all you want are pictures and videos (SANAM), so I haven't blogged. Add that to the fact that Ruby's birthday and the week surrounding it knocked. me. on. my. ass. Here it is about a month later, and I think (think) I'm finally getting my energy back. Because we didn't just throw a toddler's birthday party -- we catered brunch for 50, we did some serious landscaping so we didn't look like scrubs, we painted the patio furniture... and I'm pretty sure a lot of other stuff happened that week, but honestly I've blocked it out. W and I didn't do laundry or grocery shop or dishes or anything for a solid week after that. We were spent.

BUT! I've turned a corner. We're finally (yes a month later, suck it) caught up on housework. I'm rested. I'm starting to feel normal again. So yeah, the past month was recuperation -- but also, I've realized a few things:

I'm not a summer person. I hate the heat. It makes me pissy. Winter Texans are people who come from places like Minnesota to spend the winter in South Padre Island; I'm going to be a Summer Alaskan.
I'm not the best at being pregnant. I wish I was all glowy-earth-mother-Angelina-Jolie about it, but I'm not. It's like camping for me: it seems like a good idea in theory, but then in practice I remember that I hate being uncomfortable in any way, shape, form. Of course, with camping I can go home when I want. Sigh. Effing chafed thighs.
I'm not quite sure how I feel about unmedicated labor this time. Last time I had no idea what I was getting into (my whole thought process was how bad can it be? (uh, pretty damn bad)), and I also had the time and energy to really focus my mind on preparing for it. This time, I'm sort of hoping that I'll need a c-section (as of 7/15, #2 was still head-up/feet-down, although the doc said she still has plenty of time to turn over) so that I can be like, "Oh well," and not get myself all psyched up to endure the worst pain of my life again or even have to make the call either way. (FYI, I KNOW that epidurals are fine and totally not bad, but reason I chose no meds in the first place is that there's plenty of anecdotal evidence out there that says that no meds are slightly better for the mom and the babe, so I would feel quite guilty about doing it for one kid and not the other -- I don't want to set up sibling rivalry from minute one, y'know?)

Add that stuff (plus a bunch of other soul-searching "Why am I discontent about X and (how) can I fix it?") to the fact that being preggie and running around after a toddler is effing EXHAUSTING, and there you have it: no blogging. Let me highlight that last point one more time: I AM TIRED. SO TIRED. So, all other issues aside, I decided today that, at the very least, it's time for me to be WAY more aggressive about my nutrition for the duration of this pregnancy: I'm cutting out all refined sugars. As little white flour as possible; whole grains as much as possible. I already eat a lot of fruit, but not so many veggies -- that's getting reversed. WAY more fresh veggies, and all the good, dark, colorful ones too (loads of kale, beet greens, etc.). Water and milk to drink only -- supplemented by an assload of red raspberry leaf tea. No more caffeine at all (I was indulging in iced tea and decaf here and there before -- naughty, naughty mommy!). And so on and so forth.

Hopefully the result is going to be very nice, stable blood sugar levels that give me a stable supply of energy throughout the day, plenty of vitamins and key minerals (hi there calcium! how you doin'?), and a sweet-ass toned uterus that is going to dilate to 10 cm in two minutes flat (oh my god how painful would that be?) and then pop back into place right after.

Anyways, all that to say that I think too much and that my iPhone doesn't let me blog. But I'm standing up to the phone. I'm going to blog again!

When last we left the deBaronGentzi's...

2009-06-12T20:39:00.000-07:00

...Michelle was still reeling from the revelation that there was a girl baby in her uterus. Truly, it took me at least a week to wrap my head around. I was SO sure that I was having a boy. Like, the ultrasound was just a formality. It wasn't until my regular OB (a specialist had done the 20-week one) did another in her office, and when I saw a distinct vagina, that I was on board.

Now of course, I'm totally psyched. Two little girls? I know this one! I know how it should go and how it should not go, and I can steer this ship through these waters! A boy and a girl would have been totally uncharted territory, but two sisters? Honey, please. I got this. (Um, I think. Talk to me in a few months/years.)

So now begins the name picking (we have a list of about 8 that we're considering; I have a couple of favorites, but Wade's not 100% on board), the shopping (not much to get really, but there's a crib set I'm newly obsessed with but can't decide if it's justified in spending so much on it), the transitioning of Ruby to "big girl/big sister" status (do we get a big girl bed now or wait until a few months after the baby's come? She's just now starting to climb out, but no crib means a free-range Ruby, and that's scary...). Any and all suggestions are welcome.

In other news...

My birthday was on Tuesday, and I decided to take Ruby to Disneyland on my own to celebrate. Somebody should've sat me down and said, "Honey, no. No. Not alone." I went because Disneyland is free on your birthday, and Ruby is still free, so: free day at Disneyland! But even though we only stayed for the morning, on Tuesday, I am still recovering. Being five months pregnant and chasing after a two year old (who's turning out to be a bit of a runner) is no joke, people. (I forgot to bring the camera, but honestly, the only pictures that would have been taken would have been blurry shots of half my face and her tiny disappearing body running off towards a drink display or something random.)
Ruby and I went to Kansas over Memorial Day weekend (and Mom happened to be going to OP the same weekend!). Dude -- talk about tired. That trip took me more than a week to recover from. Don't get me wrong, it was SO fun. We stayed with some of my old high school friends, and then another set of friends joined us, and our kids (four total, including Ruby (2), O (2y3m), E (2y8?m), and L (the only boy, about to be 5)... it was a full house. The kids played preeeetty well together. But as taking turns and sharing is still being mastered (read: Ruby sometimes takes toys and runs away), there was a few moments here and there of refereeing. Here are some pictures from that weekend:

At the local "farm zoo"/petting zoo:

Getting mauled by teenage goats, or as I like to call them, Olathe street youth. They literally tried to eat my mom's skirt as she was taking these pictures.

A Ruby-pillar.

Two firsts: first shower and first co-ed shower (with E and L). At least they were sharing the shampoo. No need to step in there!

The posse going to the pool. Convoy!

Ruby and O playing in chairs.

Ruby and O checking out their new "tattoos"! Or maybe dancing? Can't tell, not sure.

But here, they are DEFINITELY dancing

And in this one, they started by dancing together, but then Ruby went off doing this funky chicken thing on her own.

BUT! While that shower with E and L might have been her first co-ed shower, it was not her first co-ed bathing experience! Here she is with B and B (2y2m and 4). Rubes was psyched. I think she has a little crush on B-boy.

Please tell me that Ru and B-Boy are not the cutest little couple of smoochers. I defy you to tell me that after you watch this video. You cannot.

There's a vagina in my uterus.

2009-05-29T20:43:00.000-07:00

After a two hour wait (which they advised me ahead of time was average -- apparently I was lucky it wasn't four), Ruby, my mom, Wade and I heard it from the doctor that he was 95% certain that I had a baby girl up in my business. So much for my three-month intuition.

And if you're wondering: WE'RE THRILLED! I would've been great with one of each, and I would have been great with two girls. (Multiple boys would scare the shit out of me, no offense Lora.)

Anyways, now I can start pestering Wade with names and putting away all the clothes in the dresser, and busting out all my frilly, lacey bows and shit. Har har. :)

Thanks for all your love and interest everyone. Now I'm going to veg on the couch, watch Pineapple Express and maybe order sushi. Happy Friday night, y'all.

UPDATE: Oh, and also, she's healthy, has all her parts, etc.

It's a...

2009-05-24T05:55:00.000-07:00

...week more til we find out the sex. Sorry, y'all.

I'm entirely to blame. I made the appointment for the ultrasound for this past Friday, forgetting of course that I was coming to Kansas on Friday. At the same time as the appointment.

So I rescheduled for NEXT Friday, 5/29 at 5:30. Many many apologies to all that were waiting on the info -- especially as I forgot to mention this before the appointment was supposed to happen.

BUT! Sex Friday. So that's the consolation prize. I have to go now and entertain my daughter who has been up since 5:15 Kansas time. Which is 3:15 LA time. Wish me luck today. UGH.

Psychic?

2009-05-11T11:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Ruby was drawing, and out of nowhere, she started saying "Baby sister, baby sister, baby sister..." just sort of singing to herself... Um. WHAT? The only thing I can think is that there was something on Sesame Street earlier that day about baby sisters?

BUT THEN! This morning in bed, I asked her, "What should we name the baby in mommy's uterus?" (because it's never too young to learn the word uterus).... and I won't tell you what she said exactly but I will say that usually she says "orange!" or Daddy!" when I ask her that question, and this morning she said a "word" that was really, really close to the current girl name that we're leaning towards (and that was the #2 pick for when Ruby was born). I mean, she basically said the name.

I'm very freaked out by my daughter right now.

Big month = big post

2009-05-02T14:57:00.000-07:00

How did April feel like the longest month but still go by in such a blink? Here's what we did in that short/long time.

I kept on being pregnant. I was 17 weeks on Wednesday, and we get to find out the sex on Friday, May 22! I'm DYING. I must find out. I must know. Partially so I can stop torturing myself on the name front -- one of the nice things about having had one already is that you've narrowed down your list a lot from the first time. But now that we're in here in Cite de la Pregnancee again, I'm going a little crazy. I'm not going to share the ones that I'm constantly bombarding Wade with, but know that they're getting weirder. I'm on the verge of making shit up at this point. You want something that doesn't stray too far from "Ruby" but that's it's own sort of special. I don't know. I'll tell you the weird ass ones after either the baby comes (or after we know the sex, maybe I'll share the discards for the gender we aren't having).

We took Ruby to Disneyland's California Adventure. IT WAS AMAZING. For those of you who don't know me or don't know this about me, I am a Disneyland freak. NOT DisneyWorld. NOT random Disney movies (but if you haven't seen the extremely trippy "Three Caballeros," you aren't living). Just Disneyland. And by extension, it's neighbor and ignored step-sibling California Adventure. Dude, this place is practically brand new and has about 1/3 the crowds of Disneyland. Perfect for Ruby's first foray into the world of theme parks. We were there for about 4 hours (totally justified because I got the normally $69 tickets for W and I were only $20 each), and we only went on about 5 rides, but it was perfect. Ruby loved it, we weren't ready to kill her/each other/everyone in Anaheim by the end of the day, and it was superfun.

And here's why we only went on five rides:

Because Ruby was just as entranced by fields of flowers as by the rides. And also this:

The video's like 3 minutes long, so maybe only watch if you're a die-hard Ruby video fan and don't mind W's and my running commentary.

Also, if you're wondering what those scabs are on her face...

Um, baby fell down. Bad mommy.

Then, later in April, we went to Texas! First up: Fiesta! Or more specifically, NIOSA (Night in Old San Antonio). Typically an event wherein high school and college students drink themselves silly and make out like it's their last night alive, if you go a little earlier in the evening, it's a cute evening of good food and plenty of cascarones -- hollowed-out eggs filled with confetti that you break on people's heads. Like this:

Or more specifically, like this:

Funhouse mirror with Mommy, Daddy, Grandpa and Grandma.

Ruby's first midway game, and her first prize.

Ruby's first clown. She hasn't learned to fear them like I do.

Cascarones: the aftermath.

Look there. Look at it. Smile and look. SMILE AND LOOK!

And last but not least, two random favorites: naked time plus drawing and also half-naked boot-wearing plus photo-perusing. We are so all about not wearing clothes right now.

As this post took me like a week to write and upload the pictures/videos (it's the damn videos, people!), I will probably not post again for a bit, so let me just remind you: we find out the sex of the baby on 5/22. So til then, mi compadres!

Real quick.

2009-04-20T09:23:00.000-07:00

I'll write more later on (when I'm not at work), but: I'm being kicked in the cervix right now. I'm at 15 weeks this Wednesday, and I'm (and have been all week) being kicked all to hell. This is my favorite part. :)

And also by the by, isn't life great? This morning: Wade and I in the kitchen; Ruby laying on her belly on the (very wide, don't worry) kitchen counter, up on her elbows, coloring on the back of a wedding invitation and getting pink and purple marker all over her face. Listening to a great cd (which Ruby was delighted went "around and around and around!" in the machine). Eating leftover eggplant parmesan for breakfast from my favorite restaurant when I was 12 -- that's still around and still makes amazing eggplant parm! Perfection.

And now at work, listening to the Pogues, getting kicked in the business, and it's a hot beautiful day outsdie, and this book exists and really? Truly? Life is pretty fucking fantastic.

Oh, hello there!

2009-04-02T21:25:00.000-07:00

As you can tell, this blog has not been a priority lately. Still kind of tired (though I hit 12 weeks yesterday, so of course, today -- the first day of my second trimester -- I'm full of vim and vigor! (after a two hour nap)). Increased hours at work. Ru continues to be hilarious and fun, though she requires no small amount of time and attention. And the house is still about 75% unpacked (thank god we have a third bedroom, which has simply become an "open the door and chuck in that random thing that doesn't have a home" room). So really, absolutely NOTHING HAS CHANGED. Which is why I haven't written much lately. And unless there are some drastic changes in my life/mood, I'll probably continue to update here fairly sporadically. My goal is once every 3 weeks or so, but we'll see. Fair warning.

HOWEVER. I'm here and posting some stuff now, so enjoy!

First off, Ru displaying her nascent operatic singing, with help from her back up singers.

Then there's Ru just being generally cute, but turning into Sean Penn at the end.

Our new place has a yard, which has been such a BLESSING. Amazing being able to go play outside at any time. And I love that Ru and I can do things like "work in the yard" together. Which means I can make her water the plants for me.

And last but not least, Grandpa Mike came to visit.

Cuteness abounded.

Also, I'm pregnant, did you hear? Here's what's going on with that. Like I said, I was 12 weeks yesterday. We'll find out the sex for sure, the question is when. I have an appointment in about five weeks (at 17 weeks along), and I'm hoping that I'll be far enough along that we can tell then. I'm convinced, however, CONVINCED that it's a boy. To the point where I was talking recently with some pregnant friends who are both having boys, and I was like "That's so weird, we're all having boys!" And they were like, "Oh, you already found out?" And I was like, "Oh yeah. Um, no I haven't yet." But I'm fairly sure. Like 99% sure. Reasons other than my random certainty? With Ruby I was starving all the time, with this one I'm pretty hungry, but nowhere near the same. With Ruby I was boiling hot from the very beginning all the time, with this one I'm freezing constantly. With Ruby I would nod off in the middle of conversations I was so tired, with this one, I'm tired (see: my constant bitching about it) but I can still function (or maybe I have no choice on that one?). But yeah, all that to say: boy. All I do is look at boy-ish crib bedding, think of boy names, boyboyboyboyboy. Oh, and I'm HUGE. Enormous. At three months this time, I'm the same size as I was at like five months last time. I get that I'm all stretched out and whatever, but still. I've been in maternity clothes for two weeks now. Huh? Biggest baby of all time? Possibly. Just know to expect a 11 lb. penis-haver in mid-October, that's all I'm saying.

I'm tired. This was a collection of random thoughts compiled over two days. It may not make any sense.

2009-03-22T08:28:00.000-07:00

So we've pretty much BLAZED right through the first trimester. I'm in my 11th week right now, which means only like 10 days til I'm officially in the second trimester. I'm telling you, you want to distract yourself from being pregnancy-tired, get tired doing a whole bunch of other things. We're getting quite settled into the new place -- though we still need quite a few things. (Or rather, we'd like to have a few things.)

One thing still keeping me nice and tired is Ruby's continued waking up in the middle of the night/first thing in the morning. I don't know if it's the new room still or what, but every morning between 4:30 and 5:15 she's up. And not just pleasantly awake -- crying and sobbing and "Mommy" and screaming. WTF kid? We go in and rock her, but the moment we put her back down, it's back to the hysterics. We sometimes bring her back to bed with us, but that's always just a stop gap; she never actually sleeps. But she's quiet, and she gets that Mommy and Daddy are still sleeping. So we get about 45-60 minutes before: "HI! Daddy, hi! Up. Food-ah. FOOD-ah. Play. Daddy, UP!" I talked to our sleep consultant today (nearly a year and a half later and I can still call this wonderful ~~voodoo priestess~~ nice lady!). Sunday, for example, she was up at 5:15. Wade tried rocking her/getting her some milk/putting her back down, but that only worked for a bit. Finally, I put the baby gate up and let her play in her room alone. Lots of cute chattering on her part, but not much sleeping on ours. Though overheard while she played was, "Mommy eat. Ruby eat. Beckfass. Peetha!" [Breakfast, pizza] And "One, two, purpah, boo!" [purple, blue]

But last night, she only woke up a few times and for not very long, and today was the first day in at least a month that I felt like I had my shit together. The house was not totally disgusting, the dishes and laundry were done, I didn't look awful, I even got it together enough to drop the car off and get it checked out. I mean, this was a red letter day!

OK. I don't know. During the day I come up with loads of witty observations on my pregnancy and how it differs from the first, etc., etc. But I'm retardedly tired right now and all I want to do is watch the eighth to last episode of Battlestar Galactica that I have DVR'd. Pbbbbtht.

Preg Nancy's back, y'all!

2009-03-14T23:06:00.000-07:00

In case you didn't pick up on all my "I'm SO tired" comments lately, I'm pregnant. :)

We're totally psyched, of course. I'm 9 and 1/2 weeks along right now and am due on 10/14. Would I have chosen not to get sick, have my kid get sick, and move in to a new place all when I'm in the midst of that extreme first trimester fatigue? You bet your sweet aunt fanny. But now that we're almost on the other side of it all, I'm very happy that we're in our new place and will be TOTALLY settled in by the time Number 2 comes along.

Doc says everything is totally healthy and good and strong so far, so I'm hoping for another healthy, smoothly-sailed pregnancy.

OK, now I'm retardedly tired, AGAIN. Going to bed. Must go grow a baby.

Better.

2009-03-13T15:15:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to put out there that I've been feeling much peppier today and yesterday. And that Ruby slept through the night last night -- for the first time in 2+ weeks -- and for nearly 14 hours. And W did end up catching the sickness but started a course of antibiotics. And the weather's warmer. And yay. :)

"...and it's wasted on the crappiest generation of spoiled idiots."

2009-03-11T10:01:00.001-07:00

Most of you may have seen this by now, but it's like my favorite thing ever.

Status Update 2.0

2009-03-10T21:34:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling much better but am still very, very tired.
Ruby's fever spiked on Friday at 104.4 at which point the doc discovered a "terrible ear infection, just terrible," and put her on antibiotics.
Though feeling better now, Ruby is still not sleeping through the night and has been up for at least an hour or two every night for over two weeks now. Which is not helping my tiredness.
Wade had the sickness/didn't have the sickness/had the sickness/has successfully fought off the sickness (I think). Go Wade!
We're now 50% unpacked. Crucial to my sanity will be the next stage of unpacking: my clothes. You might think that would have been a higher priority than midway through our second week, but again: tired.
We still have to purchase a washer and dryer, which means our dirty clothes are piling up and piling up and piling up (therefore complicating my clothing situation). My sainted mother has been playing laundress to us, which I wouldn't feel so bad about, except that we are a filthy bunch of animals who produce a disproportionate amount of laundry.
There's a tiny chance my sister maybe deported from Zambia due to her organization mishandling some crucial paperwork. This is causing much consternation in both the US and Africa.
Charshambesuri is next Wednesday, which means blackface and fire-jumping all around!

Status Update

2009-03-05T16:20:00.000-08:00

We are in our new house.
It is awesome, but I've been having weepy nostalgia for our old house (in which everything was already put away).
We are about 35-40% unpacked.
90% of that unpacking was done by my mom and my mother in law.
They did most of the unpacking because I was deathly ill during the moving process, and I was watching an even more deathly ill Ruby.
I am on day 8 or so of fighting off the sinus infection/ear ache that would not die.
Ruby is on day 11 of fighting off the cough/runny nose/recurring fever that would not die.
Wade seems to have escaped this sickness by the skin of his teeth.
We have not been grocery shopping in about two weeks and are getting very creative with whatever random things are in our fridge/pantry (and thanking the good lord for my mother who brings food over to us).
We have no washer/dryer yet in our new place. And yet we seem to keep getting clothes dirty.
And I'm... tired. I'm just really tired.

Thank you, musical theater.

2009-02-22T20:39:00.000-08:00

[Nikki, you're going to be very pleased with the contents of this post.]

Despite having no talent whatsoever for singing or dancing, I have a deep and abiding love for stage and movie musicals. Blame my dad or my sister or the fact that I am truly a gay man in a girl's body (not to feed into old, silly stereotypes or anything), but there you have it. And now I've passed it on to my family.

In order to mix up the toddler music monopoly in our car (which, by the way, I swore that I would never play into, but she really loves those stupid kids songs (and she gets very bossy about and starts playing backseat DJ: "More 'Hello.' No! No 'Hello' no! More 'Joe.' No, no 'Joe!')), I downloaded a bunch of classic musical songs and put them on a CD for the car. I figure at least I'll enjoy some of them and increase her cultural literacy at the same time.

So now I get requests for "Yow!" -- which is what she calls "Oklahoma!" (because the do, in fact, yell "Yow!" after like every other line), "Sit Down" (for "Sit Down, You're Rocking the Boat" from "Guys and Dolls"), "Bye bye, Cuckoo" and "Woowey Gerd" (for "Goodbye, So Long" and "Lonely Goatherd" from "The Sound of Music"), and "Popu" ("Popular" from "Wicked"). Of course, she still gets super bossy about what's to be played: "No! No 'Popu!' No! More 'Sit Down." 'Sit Down' more." Girl needs to learn the rule that you only get to play DJ if you're sitting shotgun... which she doesn't get to do for like 10 more years.

Tonight, this love that I'm cultivating in her kind of paid off. Poor kid has a fever of 101.7 (this is thanks to her starting day care last week; she was there two mornings and already caught the a nasty cough and fever). She napped for 30 minutes today, and was just a glassy-eyed mess all afternoon. She broke down like wet cardboard when I tried to put her down tonight, and after an hour of trying I got her up and let her watch some of the Oscars with me. Do you know what calmed her down and what we watched literally five times in a row? The tribute to American musicals. OH MY GOD Ruby LOVED it (and, truth be told, after watching it five times, I thought it was fairly spectacular too. There was a narrative, it was layered, it had freaking Beyonce and Hugh Jackman). It calmed her down in a big way.

And so the torch is passed to a new generation.

Michie Ford Coppola!

2009-02-19T21:21:00.000-08:00

I figured out how to make a movie on my computer! Not really, I just figured how to mesh different clips together, but still... advanced! So please to enjoy Ms. Ru in this little trio of vignettes. In the first she's wearing what she calls her "pretty hat."

Resurfacing (a little)

2009-02-12T14:34:00.000-08:00

For those of you who didn't know, we're moving. And I'm increasing my hours at work, which means Ru will be going to daycare part-time. And we're on the trail of the perfect, non-bougie, slightly crunchy preschool for Ruby (and with her at 19 months, we're SO far behind the rest of Westside parents on this one). And I'm recommitted to my writing project. And the million other things that sit on you during the day and mean that you don't have time to do things like blog.

But I think now that we found a house (a real honest-to-god HOUSE, y'all! with no shared walls! and a yard! and THREE bedrooms! and an office! and fireplaces! and no "1/2" in the address to confuse the post office for a year and a half!) and a daycare for Ruby (run by a Persian lady! who'll speak Persian to her! and understand when she calls pee "jeesh" and farts "goozes"! and who'll feed her Persian food for lunch!)... now, I think I feel better and more equipped to handle my life. The preschool search continues -- I've seen three, with varying amounts of like for each (alas, no love yet though), and have five more scheduled for February alone. I'm sure it's out there, something that works with our philosophy and will be fun and safe for Ruby (one that I'm excited about later on this month has built their whole curriculum around the garden that the kids grow).

Anyways, all that to say: Hello! Nice visit with you all in the real world again!

I do not think it means what you think it means.

2009-02-11T21:38:00.000-08:00

This was my conversation with Ruby when I got her up this morning.

Good morning Ruru! Did you sleep well?

"No."

No? Bummer. Should we go see Daddy for a snuggle?

"No."

No Daddy?

"No."

OK, so let's just get up out of the crib then.

"No."

Do you want to get some milk?

"No."

Do you want to go get breakfast?

"No."

OK, then let's change your diaper.

"NO!"

Should I leave?

"No Mommy. No go, Mommy. Up."

updates...

2009-02-09T20:54:00.001-08:00

I was talking to Nik the other day on one of the few times we connected from Africa, and when I told her that Ruby was asking for "Mommy" she did not even know that Ruby was saying her long E sounds (as opposed to "Mama"). So for Nikki (and the three of you who still read), here are some of Ruby's latests and greatests.

She's starting to repeat things. Like the other day when someone cut me off in traffic, and I said, "Jesus!" she said, "Deezah! Deezah Mommy!" and continued to say it for quite a while longer.
Ever since she could speak, she called Kermit "Fwavah." FINALLY today she called him Kuhmee. But mostly it's still Fwavah, though she does know that Fwavah goes potty in the front bathroom (even though that doesn't stop her from shutting the door constantly).
This morning she came into our room when she woke up, and told us, "Ruru deam." Ruby had a dream? "Yeah." What did you dream about, Ru? "Book!" I also asked her over dinner what she would name a sister (after a long conversation about how Nikki is Mommy's sister and Lacey is Daddy's sister), and she said, "Book!"
A few weeks ago, Tasha, our nanny, brought her to campus to have lunch with me, and Ru was looking very cute in a pretty white dress. She was running all over the patio, acting crazy, which was fine since she was where we could see her, and then I see her stand still and grimace. OK, fine, she's pooping. Not 30 seconds later, the diaper seems to unattach itself and fall to the ground with an audible "plop." Ru looks up, grins, and bolts -- stepping in the poopy diaper on the way, thus grinding the poop in to the concrete and leaving little toddler-sized shoeprints of poo all over the patio. It took us 5 full minutes to catch her and another 10 to clean off the poo from all over her legs and butt (not to mention me trying too use wipes to clean off the concrete).
She'd been calling herself Ruru, but in the last few days, it's been "Zizi" for some reason.
She still loves to do "yoya," and this evening I had to stop her from trying to do it in the bath. As it was she still nearly got her head underwater.
The other day when we were getting ready to go in the stroller, she said, "Stoller. Sit. Go." Which, really, when you think about it, is exactly what a stroller does.
Whenever (and literally I mean whenever) you ask her what she did that day, she will always say "Park." That is probably true 1/5 of the time (though I'm beginning to suspect what sounds like "park" might be "play," in which case she is not a liar.)
We sing the "Hello" song from her music class all the effing time, and it's one of those songs that you put in the name of people you know (or people in the class). Lately, among Mommy, Daddy, Bibi, Nonnie, Grandma, Grandpa, etc., etc., it is inevitably Nikki and Papa D (what we've called my Dad to Ruby). In fact, there are times that she's all about Papa D. One day last week we called Grandpa (W's dad), and after we left a message for him, we asked her who we should call next, and she said "Papa D!" Mama had to turn away and collect herself after that. Being an adult is HARD.
Ruby's obsessed with sweeping ("fweet"ing). The other day she spilled a couple of cheerios on the floor, and when I reached down to pick them up, she said, "No! Ruru fweet!" and got the broom that happened to be sitting out to push it around in the general vicinity of the cheerios.

Also, I would post more videos -- really I would! -- but I suspect that Ruby has placed our camera with the video capacity somewhere. Somewhere that I do not know about. I've been taking pictures lately though and will post some soon. Cross my heart with a cherry on top.

Jumping and monkeying and ignoring mama.

2009-01-28T22:07:00.000-08:00

Nikki (aka "Nikok" as she's now being called by Ruby) has been begging me for recent video, but of course, when I sat down to upload the new ones that I took this week, I can't find my camera. Natch. (Though for those of you tracking my list of missing items, the nice, given-as-a-gift-to-us camera that I lost over Thanksgiving was indeed found! The nice people at SkyWest found it in the overhead compartment that I'd left it in. They found my f'ing camera and all 200 pictures I'd take in Texas. And these kindhearted Christmas angels actually had to go get another camera to check that the pictures on the memory card matched my description because our camera had run out of batteries. And even though it was no where NEAR enough of a thank you, we took them a couple of dozen of yummy cream puffs as a thank you.)

Aaaaanyways. Yeah, no new videos. So Nikki (and Granpa, who costars, and whoever else feels like sitting through these), here are some month-old videos of La Ru. The first 30 seconds of the first is jumping practice, then monkey call practice, then she realizes the papparazzi is on her and she gets all Sean Penn about it. The second video makes me sound like a stage mother, but she had just been making the Cookie Monster noise. And of course, the second I took the camera, she moved on to something else.

They're not the videos I wanted to post, but here you go, Nikok.

Cutlery-gate, part 2

2009-01-27T14:26:00.000-08:00

I posted in frustration, and I shouldn't have done that.

Ruby is on track for all things developmentally. I know that; I wasn't frustrated at the fact that she wasn't "getting" how to use a spoon -- it was the bullheaded, headstrong, ornery refusal to allow me to help and show her how to do it. My mom yelled at me after my last post. "Do you think you're a smart person? Well, do you? Because you turned out fine, and you weren't using a fork and spoon at 18 months. What's wrong with you? Leave her alone." So fine. I left her alone.

...And, of course, she totally figured it out on her own. By now, we are using forks at an advanced level, and spoons at an intermediate level (though we may be matriculating soon). Here we are using a spoon to eat yogurt.

So far so good, right? Most of the snack was like this, spoon in yogurt --> spoon hitting mouth-target most of the time. But then towards the end we got experimental.

Using the wrong end of the spoon to dip...

...and then forgoing the spoon all together. Who needs 'em? (And you'll be happy to know that I remained chill and happy throughout.)

TGI Tuesday 1-20-09.

2009-01-20T13:38:00.000-08:00

Happy Inauguration Day, y'all! (and happy birthday, Lacey!)

I want to disown my pets.

2009-01-09T13:15:00.000-08:00

People, we have fleas.

Ugh. Gross. I feel so dirty... and sort of trashy. Like, fleas is not exactly a high-class insect problem you know? If you have silverfish because you own too many antique books, that's a bit classier. Fleas are just dirty.

Last week, I noticed that I had some itchy bumps, and then Ruby got a TON of "issy" bumps -- but W never got any so that was a bit of a mystery. And then we washed EVERYTHING we owned in hot water and chemicalized the shit out of the pets (hilarious -- I'm all organic this and natural that, but I have no problem pouring literal poison on these creatures I snuggle with). But still the bumps came. So I googled "itchy red skin bumps" -- which, if you value your eyesight and your sanity, you will never do in your life -- but no leads. A last-ditch trip to the derm today confirmed the icky diagnosis. Wade is apparently not as delicious as the two of us.

Anyways, all that to say: I want to disown my pets. Not just for the fleas, though that's 90% of it. There is Kermit's well-documented and wide-reaching awfulness. Lulu is less horrid, but still a pain in her own special way. For one thing, she's 160 lbs. of depression. If she's awake, it's constant sighing, eye-rolling, whining. On Christmas, my cousin was sitting next to her and out of the blue announced, "This dog makes me want to kill myself." You see? Her very aura is depressing to everyone around her. And it's not because we don't pay attention to her. She can be fed, walked and in the middle of being pet and loved on, and still start in on the sighing and whining. (And she's on pain meds for her arthritis, so it's not that.)

Oh and did I mention her recurring vaginal yeast infection that requires nightly cleaning? Do you know the size of the vulva on a 160 lb. dog? Can you even imagine?

So if anyone is looking to adopt a clinically depressed, arthritic, slobbery, chronically itchy-vagina'd giant dog WITH FLEAS and a senile, OCD, three-toothed stalker cat WITH FLEAS... drop me a line.

She's a big 'un.

2009-01-09T12:57:00.000-08:00

Last week when I took Ru in for her check up, Dr. Bral told me, "She'll probably end up being about six feet tall."

I'm pretty sure the pupils of my eyes turned into exclamation points.

Apparently it's a decent rule of thumb that girls will be top off at about double their height at two years. And now, at 18 months, Ru is 35" tall (one inch shy of three feet, for the mathematically uninclined). NUTS. I looked it up at home, and quite literally, that is off the charts. Like, 35" is in the 50th percentile for a 27 month old. It's several hatch marks above the 97th percentile curve for an 18 month old.

As for weight, she's coming it at 30.5 lbs (again, above the 97th percentile mark for 18 months) and her head is nicely proportional at 19.1 inches around (between the 95th and 97th percentile).

Who is this giant child and where did she come from? I am a pixie compared to what she'll be in a few years. And W is tall, but... sheesh. I just wasn't expecting to be the little person in the family.

Whatever, I'm so not complaining. She's blessed. We're blessed. Hezareh Mashallah, as my mom says. A thousand thanks to God.... for my giantess daughter.

Dance Bonk Kiss Play

2009-01-06T20:47:00.000-08:00

While I'm not sure if this blog has run it's course or not (can you tell with the month-long hiatus that I just haven't been feeling it lately?), I will always return to post items of such preciousness, such acute adorableness that not sharing it with friends, families, and the rest of the internet would just be wrong. So, in that vein, please enjoy this little snip of my beautiful daughter (looking a bit like a sumo wrestler as she dances -- I know, I noticed it too) and what happens when she gets a bonk. Bon appetite.

In case you're not friends with my sister on Facebook...

2008-12-22T09:57:00.001-08:00

Nik posted on her blog about playing with the lion cubs, but she couldn't upload the picture to her blog, only to her Facebook page. Since there are plenty of people (like my Grammie) who aren't on Facebook, I thought I'd post the picture here instead (hope that's cool, Nik). In her words, they are "tiny, angry, [and] meat-eating." Apparently they were growling at her the entire time she was trying to get a picture with them, but that's probably because she just always smells like dead donkey and they were getting hungry (hah!). I asked if the 10 house cats the share the property interact with the lions in any special way since they are like distant cousins, but she said no. Probably because in a few months (years?) the two cousins would eat the other 10 cousins if given the chance.

Nik is doing really well out there, working her ass off in her new job as a volunteer coordinator, and hopefully not catching AIDS, tuberculosis or cholera. But, of course, we all knew she would (kick ass, not catch diseases). Miss you, Kiko-san!

Hanukkah prayer.

2008-12-22T09:35:00.000-08:00

Last night Ruby and I went over to my mom's house to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah. She didn't have the official prayer written down anywhere or memorized, so here's what she said as she lit the candles.

"Dear God. Please keep all people safe and happy, Ruby most of all. Please don't let Nikki get cholera. God bless Nikki. God bless everyone. Let's all be happy this year. Thank you for everything. And... um... God bless America."

Amen, Mama.

These two things are killing me. Once I have them sorted out, I will freak out about my Christmas cards.

2008-12-11T11:50:00.000-08:00

I'm dying of frustration at this very moment.

Thing #1 that is making me insane: As we all know, I am a loser. In that I lose things (heh). Currently on the MIA list (because I AM AN IDIOT AND CLEARLY SHOULD NOT HAVE NICE THINGS): my prescription sunglasses (though those are hopefully just chilling somewhere in my in-law's house in San Antonio) and our camera (which I just now realized). The camera came with us to San Antonio. It made it in to the car on the way to the airport to come home. Did it make it on to the airplane? Off the airplane? In to our house? Um, I think so? Gah. Kill me now. My poor mother-in-law already had to ship my planner back here from when I left it there this last time.

The other reason that I am going to run away from home: the process of teaching Ruby to use a fork and spoon. Is there a trick to this? Something that makes it easy and unmessy? Are we even sure that hand-feeding isn't really the way to go in the long run? Because I have no idea what I'm doing. I introduced this process because I remember that my friend Lora's kid Declan was eating cereal by himself at 18 months, so I figured it was time for Ru to learn. Fact that became disheartening after we started trying to teach Ru to use utensils: at 18 months Declan was eating CEREAL! Cereal, as I've discovered is, like, advanced-level utensil-using. That shit is sloshy and does not stay on the spoon easily. Beginner-level stuff is more like hummus or rice pudding. Intermediate is oatmeal (a little clumpy, but can fall of the spoon easily) or yogurt (can be a bit runny). We're OK with beginner stuff because we can angle the spoon however we want and it's OK. Intermediate is still a struggle, and if this morning's ambitious try at cereal and milk was any indication, we're still a ways off from a solo endeavor with the advanced meals.

What really kills me about this is that she will not let me show her how to do it. I swear to god, most meals where I give her a fork/spoon, it's like a scene from "The Miracle Walker." I'm Anne Bancroft, trying to grab Patty Duke's hand and make her sign water, and she's struggling trying to hit me and pull my hair. But I'm no feisty Annie Sullivan, and I'm mostly the one who ends up stomping my feet and making wookie noises. This morning when she told me "NO!" for the millionth time when I tried to help her hold the spoon at anything but a completely vertical angle, I had to call in the relief toddler-handler, Dada, to close the deal. I was so done.

OK, clearly I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself and her. Perhaps this is supposed to be more of an organic, figure it out yourself kind of deal. Maybe I just need one of those shirt-bib things, lay some tarp down, and let her teach herself. OK. Deep breath. Bless and release. Let go and let God. Generic calming mantra. Breathe. Breathe.

My hope for this Thursday is that my camera turns up and that I don't stab myself in the eye with a toddler fork.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention that we're also missing a duvet cover (we washed it and put it away in the spring when we started using our lightweight quilt, and now it's not here -- what? I know) and that my sciatica is acting up. Because I'm 80.

Holiday Spirit

2008-12-08T16:32:00.001-08:00

This made me happy: Detroit Homeless Men Adopt Local Families for Christmas.

The world is an alright place sometimes. :)

Cute overload.

2008-12-06T21:54:00.000-08:00

The pictures with Kermit and these below were taken by my nanny while I was at work. Can I just say how nice it is to come home from a long Monday at work and have these little gifts waiting for me on my camera? And also, please to admire her hair, because nothing says Monday like four ponytails.

Honestly, just kill me now. How did something this cool come out of me? BTW, in this shot she is TOTALLY channeling my sister (who, last week, crossed the Zambezi with nothing but a helmet, life jacket and boogie board). Africa Nikki for the win!

That is not, as I originally thought, is a unrolled condom in her hands. Unfortunately, once you get that thought in your head, it doesn't look like anything else (especially because the kiss mark just below it sort of looks like it's the round base of the condom). But then I was like, why would Tasha let her chew on an unrolled condom? (Note, I did not at first think, why does she have an unrolled condom, just why is she chewing on one. I don't sweat the small stuff.) But, rest assured, it is only the undone wrapper for the string cheese that she's finishing off just above it. But for a minute, you were wondering too.

There will come a day when I am jealous of Ruby's pretty eyes. Damn it, I think I might already be there. I'm pretty sure that's going to mean therapy. Crap.

Fwah-vah.

2008-12-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

Fwa-vah is what Ruby calls Kermit (it is also what she, more appropriately, calls a flower, but that's neither here nor there). Ruby squeals with delight whenever she sees Kermit, and she tries desperately to hug him -- which inevitably ends up with him upside down in her arms and me trying to stop her from accidentally stepping on his face. But because Kermit is such a shitty pet, I don't stop her. If he were better and didn't try to smother me in my sleep or wake me up in the middle of the night by licking the same spot on my chin repeatedly (though at least he's not still trying to kill me and Ruby), or wailing at all hours of the night, or liking his oceanfish dinner one day but not the next (or one morning but not that night), or generally being the worst roommate ever... then I would feel bad for him and try to stop her. But as he is all things suck (and has no claws and, like, three teeth), I let Ruby unleash the full force of her love on him.

I love my sister, she's the best, she's cooler than any other girl that I have ever met.

2008-12-03T13:07:00.000-08:00

http://www.nikkiinafricaagain.blogspot.com/

Go there and read all about the adventures of Nikki, queen of the jungle (or at least, princess of home-based health care in Livingstone, Zambia).

It's like I don't even know her any more.

2008-11-30T12:12:00.000-08:00

I'm in Texas and don't feel like uploading the hundreds of pictures I've taken to my in-laws' computer, so this will be a brief, texty post (it's really just for my sister, who told me she's tired of looking at Lisa Rinna's face every time she logs on to check the blog).

Looking at Ruby, you wouldn't necessarily notice anything different from a few weeks ago, but all of a sudden we seem to have jumped (leapt? hurdled? supersonically flown?) into a new developmental stage: independence. Better known as "Step off bitch, I can do it my damn self!"

Case in point: Friday at Target (yes, we're masochistic idiots, but we needed diapers and a sleep mask, so what are you gonna do?), she didn't want to ride in the cart, she didn't want to walk and hold hands, she didn't want to be carried; she only wanted to run as fast as she could in any direction that we were not going. So my mother-in-law tried to distract her into following us by letting her pull a Thomas the Train mini traveling suitcase. Except that all she wanted to do was PUSH said suitcase -- right into every incoming shopper. I think it was on accident, but maybe not? I kept trying to show her how to pull it so she'd have a little more control, but on my third, "Ruby my love, let's do it this way," girlfriend LOST it. Cue first official temper tantrum. She started WAILING like a siren, sat down in the middle of the aisle (ON BLACK FRIDAY, so we didn't exactly have the store to ourselves), started kicking her feet, and screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Honest to god, it was one of the most awesome things I've ever seen in my entire life.

Wade and I were biting our lips not to laugh, because it was so hysterical. I can see where time number 4 or 14 or 44 will not be as hysterical, and probably time number 1 with child number 2 will not likely be as funny. But this time, I just wanted to be a scrapbooking kind of gal, so I could scrapbook this moment.

The rest of the personality transplant is just as amusing, though less dramatic. There just seems to be a lot more toddler behavior in the last week or two: A lot of babbling and sing-song gibberish. A TON of energy (which is all well and good in our in-laws' multi-acreage yard, probably will not be as well and good in our 50 square foot patio), most of which seems to manifest itself in doing in the "Maniac" dance from "Flashdance": lots of running in place and spinning in circles til she falls down chuckling.

Watching her grow up is so insanely fun. I kind of want another both right away and never at the same time.

Flow it, show it.

2008-11-17T16:03:00.000-08:00

Cougar + Teen idol
- Ron Weasley ˟ Hill-Hill ÷ + .005
= My new hair cut

I know it's been almost two months, and I know I'm still talking about it/just getting around to posting about it. I've even had it trimmed since I first cut it, that's how far we've come. But as I am a complete narcissist, and because I talked about it incessantly when it happened, I felt it needed to be acknowledged. So: I got my hair cut.

When I first got it done, it looked like an odd combination of all of the above. A little bit teenage boy, a little bit stereotypical lesbian, a little bit aging female politician. Hawt.

About two days after I got it cut, I was at work, walking across campus, when I realized that they were filming something across from my building. And because even though I'm from LA originally and have now lived here for two years, I am still a total geek about "the industry," I cross the street, heading towards someone with a clipboard, wanting to ask them what they were filming. Just as I'm getting to him, someone yells "Action!" and the guy with the clipboard sees me approaching and tells me "We're filming right now, ma'am." Oh, whoops. My bad.

So I start crossing back in the other direction, sort of catty-corner now, when an extra stage-whispers to me, "No! Just act normal!" Uh... OK, so then I cross back in the other direction. Awesome.

My point is this: next time you're watching TV or a movie (I think they were filming an episode of "Life," but I'm not sure), and you see Lisa Rinna (Fish Lips up there in that first picture) cross the street in a blue shirt, then pause and turn, then start walking in another direction -- except now you're pretty sure that's Zac Efron in that blue shirt! -- then freeze in the middle of the street and look totally confused, then turn and walk back in another direction -- but now from that angle is it Ellen Degeneres...?!?

Naw, that's just me and my new hair.