Early Riser

I can’t stop thinking about Daylight Savings on November 1.
Little J wakes up at about 6:30am every day. When he sleeps in until 7:00, I dance a little dance of joy.

So, what am I going to do when 6:30 suddenly becomes 5:30? Has anyone any thoughts or advice?? Should I start going to bed at 9:30pm the week before? Is there a way to get him to sleep in a wee bit more in the next 6 weeks? Please comment.

Thanks.

 

Haircut

BEFORE

BEFORE

AFTER
Just a little snip off the front where it hung in his eyes. I love playing kitchen beautician!

 

Munch munch, food

Taking a cue from Sara, I wanted to blog about feeding a one-year old. What fun! Whole milk and peanut butter and berries now. No more worry about allergies. Although, Little J broke out in hives when he ate scrambled eggs for the first time. I’m going to try again soon and see if he has the same reaction. Hmmm.

Cooking for three is a lot more complicated than cooking for two. My current staples for J are bananas, pears, pretzels, Yo-Baby yogurt, brocolli, babybel cheese….and SYRUP.

Ha, just kidding! I was quoting the movie “Elf”.

I have to share that my son’s favorite treat is Starbucks Walnut loaf! Why?

I do enjoy some healthy cooking as often as possible. I was damn proud of myself last week when I made my low-cal cabbage soup with ground turkey, and the next day, nuked a small bowl of the leftovers for Little J. I just drained out the beef broth and let him eat the salty delicious chunks of meat, pasta, and veggies. He seems disinterested in anything UN-seasoned. That is, unless it comes out of a jar and says Gerber on the front. ‘Spoon it into my mouth, ma, and I’ll try it.’ At the end of the day, if it’s not candy, soda, or Top Ramen, I’ll let him try a taste. Even chocolate ice cream.

PS. The photo is sideways on purpose. I didn’t feel like taking the time to adjust its orientation because I’m off to the gym now. Bye!

 

I scream, you scream

The blogosphere has suggested to me there is a complacency amongst you Stay-at-Homers, and I am the Queen Bee of all. There is no spa day for us. No Carrie Bradshaw-style cocktail hour. Sometimes watching TrueBlood is the sexiest, most exciting thing we’ll do all week.
On an average day, you are awoken at the crack of dawn, literally, to the sound of a small child wanting to be retrieved from his crib. Sneak in a moment to pee before the day begins with sippy cups, Elmo, fruit and yogurt, diapers, playing, singing, and cursing under your breath. ‘How many minutes until the first nap? Will I get to shower today?’ Clockwatchers, that’s what my husband calls us (me and him). The difference is that he gets to sit down and enjoy his shredded wheat before work, and I am on-call, more or less all the time.

This morning I had my checkup at the dentist at 9:45, and my playdate friend agreed to take Little J on while I whizzed across town. I dropped him off at her house just as her son was waking up, bleary-eyed. I threw J in a pile of awesome todder toys and slipped out, grateful to her as anyone could ever be. It takes 45 minutes to get anywhere in LA in the morning, so I did my best to enjoy the drive with my iPod and some daydreaming.
When I landed back at my friend’s house, both boys were in the living room running amok while Big Big World played on PBS. It was exactly like a morning at our house, and Little J was smiling. Score! He usually would have been napping at that hour, but he seemed properly stimulated, and my girlfriend offered me a fresh cup of coffee. She then suggested I try to put J down for a nap in her Pack and Play.

“Gawd, it’s so tempting! I don’t think he’ll respond to a nap at a strange home, but it’s worth a try.”

Moments later, both boys got a slow-rocking, some smooches, and then we laid them down and shut the door. The horrific sounds ensued IMMEDIATELY.
“You know,” I told her over the massive wailing, “I’ve asked infant care centers how they get kids to nap all at the same time. One teacher told me that you have them all lay down in a darkened space, one kid goes to sleep and the others follow suit eventually.” My friend seemed interested. So, we went out the back patio to wait 15 minutes and see if anything changed.
We sat down in the 95 degree heat, grimacing. It was pretty damn loud in there. I’d hear a shreik and ask, “Oh, is that my kid or yours?” She shook her head and lit up a cigarette. I don’t smoke, but I can understand why one might. I watched her and we tried to chit chat, but after just 10 minutes (maybe 11 or 12?), we were both in there, soothing our children. I took my baby home shortly after. Playdate over.
I think our little experiment was worth a shot. I felt a lot less alone in this endeavor we call mommyhood. A lot less complacent. And bonus, I had a second cup of coffee, and didn’t have to pay someone to babysit while I was out.

 

I got nothin’

I know there was a birthday.
I know there were pictures.
They are somewhere on my husband’s computer, maybe.
Or, they are on a Flash card that has been removed and inserted into my husband’s computer. I guess that must be it.
I hooked up the Canon digital to my mac today and there are only shots from back in June. Even the photos of me doing a shot on my birthday have been mysteriously deleted.

….

So, unfortunately a 1st birthday post will not make an appearance. Not today anyway.

Be that as it may, I am happy to report that having a ONE YEAR OLD is super-duper fun. I love all of Little J’s pointing at objects. I love his obsession with dogs. I love the way he lights up when certain stuffed animals start to play music when squeezed. I love that he walks like a little cowboy/ape with that wide stance. I love hearing his little voice declaring such things as “Dah! Fffffff. Wooof. Mamamama.”

I love that I am down to one nursing a day. I’m ready to wean, folks, and this has not been easy. Once the initial weeks with the shield were over, I had the luxury of being able to breastfeed and be a SAHM for the last 12 months. It’s been great. I know some moms are game to continue breastfeeding through two years old or longer. Me? I am starting to feel the gentle clench of those 8 teeth. I also have lost interest in Target nursing bras. And yes, I feel a slight societal pressure to quit. Mostly, however, I just want some more personal space. It’s time.

 

You have to laugh a little

You have to guffaw at Cookie Magazine each month.

I love to read the damn thing cover to cover, and I get two copies all of a sudden — somehow my husband accidentally signed up when buying something online. So, I often give my extra issues to my friend PTD, who is scheduled to give birth in about a week!! Eeee! PTD and I like to smirk at all the overpriced kiddie clothes and gear they feature in the magazine. I like that the whole thing is written for craft-challenged New York eco-aware mommies who like to know where to get the best granola and the sexiest heels. And if you’re looking for, say, Diesel jeans for your 4 year old, look no further! Really, Cookie Magazine? Really?

My favorite thing this month is a necklace (page 46) that retails for $225.00, made of glass pearls. The real-mom/J. Crew exec who offers it for our perusal is quoted as saying, “A statement necklace makes an everyday outfit more interesting — plus it’s something for your kid to fiddle with.”

A two-hundred twenty-five dollar necklace??!!??

I, too, have a statement necklace that I let my kid fiddle with. I am so thrilled with it because it’s sturdy as hell, and pink. I love pink.

This fish cost me FOUR DOLLARS at Forever 21 and came with some stud earrings as well. Little J has snapped a chain or two of mine recently, but this one is still holding up. I’m thinking that the price was right. So please, magazine gods, keep up the good humor. I won’t be walking in to Neiman Marcus any time soon because my sweaters all have smudges from what I call “banana hands”. But I love to laugh. Laughter is free.

 

30 of my favorite things

A little over a week ago I turned 30.

I drank a few pints of Stella Artois, and this “Birthday Shot”, free from the bartender.

Don’t ask me what this drink was. I don’t remember.

I thought I’d make a list of 30 of my favorite things.

Enjoy!

1. The Verdugo Mountains, which I am able to admire from my living room window. Yes, I happen to live in “the Valley”.
2. Water Babies sunblock. What is it about that smell?
3. podcasts
4. Disneyland Parades
5. Gourmet Veggie Pizza from Round Table
6. Theknot.com (my first experience in social networking back in 2002.)
7. Broadway musicals
8. Those square-shaped blush/bronzers by Benefit.
9. “Family Parking” at malls. Hilarious!

10. Gouda cheese
11. Buzz Lightyear
12. Things that are hot pink.
13. The Mediterranean Sea
14. The freedom to travel to the Mediterranean Sea, or other places in the world.
15. Levar Burton
16. My lavendar prom dress.

17. ‘Updos’ — Weddings and Prom, that’s it??
18. Oh yeah…getting to wear an Updo on “Mad Men” (in my non-speaking role of “restaurant hostess”)! Let’s re-phrase. I love sitting in “hair and makeup”, even if I’m just an extra. And even if it’s 6am. A few years ago, 6am sounded really early. Mwaahaha.
19. Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
20. Anything Star Trek
21. ballet shoes and leotards
22. Dogs who are so friendly they are better than people.
23. Christmas ornaments
24. Mac computers
25. The Office
26. Pho for lunch. In Chinatown
27. The first day of school
28. The last day of dress rehearsal
29. Having a baby
30. Watching him sleep. Or catching some zzzzz’s myself.

 

Have a taste, Ma!

Yup, here’s my big kid.
He’s eating a fig that my friend’s mother generously offered from her garden. What I want to know is, Does this kid need a haircut?

 

Aren’t we pretty?

Before you worry that I spend weeks on end in my nappy sweats, crying into my oatmeal, here’s a snapshot from my good friend PTD’s baby shower.

Don’t we both look fetching??

 

Why I’ll continue this blog

I’ve been avoiding, I know. I’ve been on the roller-coaster of new motherhood, and I’ve been putting it out there with grave authenticity. It’s not all sunshine and flowers. Some days just plain suck, but I put on a brave face because I don’t want to seem like I cannot hack it. Taking care of a child, that is. Most people, when they ask, ‘How are you?’, don’t really want to know. Have you ever noticed this?

I have so much to say, but what if people don’t like it? Now that we live in TwitterWorld, I feel the need to express myself in 140 characters, and I just can’t do it. I am FULL of feelings and anecdotes, and I am more than an emoticon. Some days I just don’t have time to begin writing. So I have been at my computer, silently watching, reading, and researching. A bit each day. All the while, I try to keep my damn kitchen clean, and make the bed every day.

I also got a pedicure since my last blog entry. I almost wept at how black the bottoms of my feet were from walking around my house without shoes, wiping crumbs and spills off the floor. ‘Sorry, sorry the feet are so dirty, oh!!’ Don’t women find the strangest moments to apologize? Then, as the nice woman wrapped my feet in hot towels, I FELL ASLEEP! In the middle of a really great Allure article on Amy Adams, I dozed off. I might have dreamed about what my life would be like if I had gone the way of Amy Adams. Amy, like myself, started her professional career in dinner theater. If I had the chance to have coffee with Amy, we might find that we have a lot in common. Wouldn’t that be fun?

But we won’t have coffee.

Because Amy has an Oscar nomination, and I have an 11-month old son.

And you know what? That’s just fine. I am finding that a simpler life is best. Los Angeles can eat up the sweetest, most interesting folk, and spit them out without pause. I attribute a lot of my bitterness to living in this town. But I am also very brave because of LA. What I’ve found is that women I talk to are grateful that I am so open with my struggles (and my achievements as well) on the blogosphere, and also in person.
Those of you who read my blog seem to like that I live my journey honestly, and without shame. Indeed, having your first baby, without a village to help raise him, causes a lot of shame. I need to be honest about this because I am doing my best. And I am doing a DAMN FINE JOB, even when I screw up, or when I don’t know what I am doing.

I am grateful for the support of my friends and family as I pummel through the gloomy days. But I think what I’m trying to say is that sometimes I look in the mirror and do not recognize myself. A newly found selflessness has arrived, and I am changed. Can I be BETTER than ever before? Maybe someday soon. For now, I must admit, my back aches. There are cheerios on the floor. I drank too much coffee, too.

(Coffee alone. Not with any celebrities.)