Catching Up

So. October is here and autumn is upon us. I have a love/hate relationship with this time of year. It’s colder, but not freezing yet, which is good. School has started which is kind of lame, but also exciting. New TV season begins, which is great, but also means I want to watch more TV. Football is in full swing, which I love, but baseball is approaching play-offs which means the husband will be staying up too late.

All in all however, I like Fall. I like new boots and the crisp air and the reflection of it all. That said, let’s take stock, shall we?

The baby is doing marvelously. He is growing like a proverbial weed. He is tall and healthy and keeps outgrowing shoes. He loves to dance. He does a full-body shake thing that is adorable. He is normally pretty happy, but does have a temper when he doesn’t get his way. When this happens, watch out! He will grab at your face. It’s not so bad when his nails are cut, but when his nails are long it is a killer. He loves to play. He likes his puppy toy the best. He loves real dogs a ton. When he sees a dog outside, on TV or in a book he points to it and screams, “Dah-dah!!” It’s cute, but if you’re in Duane Reade, it can be embarrassing.  He is a good walker, says a few words, (mama, Da-da, sometimes duck, maybe?) plays with everything. He maes everything into a phone to talk on, and conducts business. Bowls and pots are still aces in his book. He is still a night-owl. He sometimes gets shy around other kids and dos not like it when people shout. It freaks him out.

Today we went to my friend K’s house. Her little boy is a few months older than Scooba. Her son was being friendly and would shout at Scooba, “Bubbles!” Scooba looked startled and ran to me to pick him up, please. He can now hug and kiss and is learning to blow kisses. It is adorable. He claps, but he’s been doing that for a few months now. He high-fives, which people love, and shakes hands which I find darling.

He still loves the park, but is less about the swings now. He likes to explore all over the park now. Favorite songs are still Old MacDonald and This Old Man, but he also loves Mi Cuerpo and the ABCs. Also I’m a Little Froggy. He did great when we visited San Diego and let my brother hold him for extended periods. Loves to play chase. Is eating lots of solid foods. Beans and lentils are a big hit. He loves fruit, especially strawberries and watermelon.

Me? I am tired. I am taking night courses and get home around 10pm one night a week. It’s good because Husband has one night a week where he is the guy doing everything. It’s good that he gets the one-on-one time with the baby.I’m back at work which is pretty good. Exhausting and busy, but fulfilling. I’m loving twitter.


Modern Family

I like TV. It’s funny. Or engaging. And sometimes you find yourself reflected there. As a Black woman, I do not often find myself reflected on tee vee. (Especially since we don’t have HBO anymore.) Imagine my surprise when, while watching Moderm Family, my husband and I found ourselves cracking the hell up because one couple was us.


Husband goes to sleep earlier than the aby and I do. He had just bid us good night, I was straightening up and the baby was making a mess in the kitchen for a change of scene. Modern Family comes on. The couple is having a bit of a tiff because one person made an elaborate meal and he kitchen is a MESS. Other person is grosed out and the chef is all, “don’t worry, I’ll clean it.” From the bedroom, where he is supposed to be sleeping, my husband cracks up with laughter. Cam and Mitchell, are our TV twins. I’m Cam.

Now, before you think this is a fluke, that I see myself everywhere, let me assure you, Cam and Mitchell are not just hand-twin twins, but actual twins. (Someone got that Friends reference, right?)


Last week Mitchell accused Cam of coddling Lily.

“I will not apologize for loving our daughter.”

I sprayed Mango smoothie on the coffee table when Cam uttered the line. Not just because of the line, but because of Husband’s face when the line was said. He roared, but then looked at me.

“Why you looking at me, Husband?”

“No reason.” *snort, laugh*

:You think that’s me? I’m Cam?

“I’m pretty sure you’ve said that exact same thing to me when I say the baby should sleep in his crib.”

This began a whole discussion about the baby’s sleeping habits that was lame and is still unresolved. But, it did begin the us as Mitchell and Cam conversation.

I’m artsy and emotional. He’s a worrier and is all clean-y. It gives the show a new lens for us now. Interesting.


BlogHer 2012 is in NYC!

Blog Her 2012 is in  New York City

I’m doing it. I’m going.

BlogHer 2011 was in San Diego. I am from San Diego and we go visit in August anyway, so this year should have been a done deal. Unfortunately, Husband’s schedule meant we were in Cali the following weekend. Lame. This was a real kick in the pants for me. But the heavens have smiled down upon me.

Next year, BlogHer is in NYC! YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. I am totally going. I got so tired of hearing about BlogHer knowing I couldn’t go. (“Not that I wanted to go anyway, who cares,” is how I consoled  myself.)

But it’s in my city this year! The Hilton! And I can afford the rates! So excited. I have put it on my calendar and told Husband. You should go to BlogHer. And you.

NYC is a fantastic city. We have Central Park, amazing restaurants, the subway and lots of good junk. Street fairs! Encounters with strangers! Pizza at 3am! And we’re one of the news media and publishing hubs of the world. What’s not to love?

The Stinker’s Stash

Phew. Sigh. It’s all I can do. I have to laugh. And breathe. I have spent the last hour frantically searching for my phone. I can not lose another phone. I just can’t. It would be too humiliating. Right now I have a very basic, no camera, no email, no google maps phone. Why? Because I lost my iphone. Lost it in the house mind you. And it looked like it was happening again.

I know I had my phone. I checked a text on it. (Which, BTW, takes forever on this phone.) Then we came in the house. There are my keys, but where is my phone. The same thought keep circling around my head: I can’t lose another phone. I can’t lose all my phone numbers…again. What will I tell Husband? How dumb am I gonna look? Of course, when you look for stuff you have to clean up. Is it under the puzzle? No, but to check I have to put away the puzzle. So the living room has lots of toys out and about. Lots of noisy toys.

So I am trying to clean and look ever so quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping baby. Still nothing. I’ve re-traced my steps. The living room is now clean. Still no phone. I check all of my pockets. I check underneath all of the furniture. Still nothing. I’m startig to figure out if it’s worth it to buy a new phone or just wait and penance for my carelessness. Then I remember the baby. The sweet, toddling, cherubic soul who has a penchant for picking up items and laying them down somewhere else.

Where would he put a phone? I have to think like a baby. I get low, because I want to see the world from his vantage point. The towers? Nothing. Where does he like to go? The kitchen. I purposefully stride into the kitchen afraid to hope and preparing myself for more disappointment. I open his favorite cabinet (Lower cabinet, full of pots and pans) and find my phone nestled in a pot.

Phew. I have to laugh.


My kid is super cool. How cool? He went to the Bruins parade, fell asleep and woke up when the Stanley cup came by and began clapping.


We went to the city of my husband’s birth for a wedding. We had a good time. We went in the hotel pool and the baby swam for the first time. He was great in the water. I LOVE the water and Scooba is good in the bath, so I anticipated a good time. He got hungry halfway through the swim, so we got out and had a snack.  The Bruins parade as fun. Husband is a hockey fan, so he was psyched we were in the city for the parade. There were a million people, but most of them were polite-ish.

The wedding was a blast. The baby (toddler?) was terrific on the train and a good time was had by all. It is summertime in Gotham City and I am ready for it. I am off for the summer so we will be tearing the city up. Playgroups, stroytimes, swim classes, museums…the city is ours. I’m thinking about starting a meet-up group for moms who can hang-out during the week. I keep herring people saying they have a moms group, and I want one.

Where do people get these mom groups? Are you in one? Did you start it yourself or hear about it? I need some mommy friends. Hook a sista up.

My Boy Likes to Party all the Time, Party all the Time, Party all the Tiii-iime!

Oh, you don’t remember Eddie Murphy’s album? Nevermind.

We made it. Not only is our son one, but we’ve even had a party to celebrate. It took much planning, several really, really good friends, my mom and a permit, but we even had a good time at the party.

So, we packed party stuff the night before. We planned on two shifts to take supplies and food to the park. The day of however, Husband gets antsy and wants to get there even earlier. So he takes one bin of supplies- (tablecloths, bottles of water, blankets, etc) with him to the park. Great.

I was worried about food. I didn’t want anything to spoil, so I would go at the last miute with the food. My mom, who is super awesome and a trroper, graciosly helped me cut up fruit for the fruit salad that morning, and helped me wrangle our new little toddler. So mom went with my vert good friend, and the baby’s Godmother to the park. They took a little bit of food, toys and other miscellaneous items. As soon as Mom left, the baby fell asleep. He’s wearing a onesie, a wet diaper (I was just about to change him.) and he passes out. Oh. Okay.

I can’t wake him up. He’s a beast when he’s sleepy. I needed a happy kid today, not the growling, thrahing tiger he’s been known to become when overtired. So I let him sleep. Manwhile, he wasn’t dressed, I still had to gather the candle, matches, sunglasses for Husband, shoes for me and the baby…

So he sleeps. Husband and I had been calling each other all afternoon, and when I told him our little friend was out like a light, he had very good advice. “Well, just put him down and relax awhile.” So I did. I gathered what I needed and then just kinda chilled. People I trusted were at the park setting up, my very good, kind friemds were on theri way to take me to the park, and my kid was sleeping so he’s be freash as a daisy for the party. I was like the kid from Mad Magazine, “What me worry.”

You know how life is sometimes so magnificet and works out unexpectedly? Well, my friend comes to get me, I’m about to load the car, and Scooba wakes up. Just like that. He wakes up happy and smiling. Yay. We leave. He’s happy in the car. Yay,

People arrive. They like the food. We’ve laid out blankets with toys on the grass and babies play with them. We have beach balls and bubbles going. A football is being thrown by some older party guests. Mingling is happening. Before I know it, it’s time for cake. I am sure Scooba will cry, but instead he is frantically grabbing for my boob. I try to convince him to wait. His actions indicate he is not one to negoeciate. Luckily, when the singing starts, he is distracted. He enjoys the singing and just looks around at the sea of faces. Then we blow out the candle. People eat cake, he eats boob. The picture of the kid with frosting smeared n his face? No go. We gave him some cake, but he just ate it. He’s much messier with yogurt.

We clean up. My mother0in-law and Mom really taking the lead there, thankfully. We figure out how we;re going to get everything back,(once againg getting by with a little help from our friends) and are home within 10 miutes. Our family comes back to the house to hang out for a while and we open presents. Scooba took a good nap and then played with some ribbon. He got a good haul which included some sorely needed bath toys. Woe betide the bather who bathes the baby without bath toys.

He’s happy, we’re happy, guests were happy. No huge incidents, kids LOVED the party bags and also the bubbles. It was amazing seeing people and feeling loved. Our son made it one whole year and we didn’t break him. Although, Husband threw him on the bed and I scolded him saying, “Great, you broke the baby.”

“Well, that sucks. He’s only got a one year warranty and that just expired.”

“Isn’t that always the way?”

It’s funny, cause now that he’s into everything, our triumphant “We did it!” attitude is quickly being replaced with, “Oh crap, he’s…”

And he bit me today. He bit me. Why? Because I flipped him off? Because I called him a mean name? Did I trip him? No. I wouldn’t let him play with scissors. My bad, son. No wonder you bit me, you did what you had to do. Bite the mother who. Feeds. You. Every. Day.

Year 2 has begun.

Party Time!

Before party:

Nervous. Who knew throwing a party for a kid was so much work? He won’t even remember today. yet I’m getting all worked up over this. Rest assured, I’ve thrown parties. Good parties. Great ones. You know hw I did it? Booze. That’s all aparty needs when you’re in your 20s. Lots of booze. Jello shots. Tequila. Some concoction to which you give a funny name. Husband got a surprise party one year. We’ve done super-bowl parties. Light snacks, booze, good time had by all.

This thing here? Hard work, my friends. We have a theme. It’s the beach. Thankfully, at least Scooba has been to the beach, so it’s not like we were completely making stuff up. We have favor bags. Is that what they call the little treats you take home from parties? Party favors? Anyhoo, we haves’em. The “bag” is a sand pail and shovel for the beach. Inside we have goldfish crackers, bubbles, little sunglasses and a beach ball. Very kid friendly and pretty effing cute.

We have a cake with a beach scene. We have cutesy happy birthday cups/plates stuff. We have food. Pasta salad! Yum!We finally found an birthday outfit.(Finally! Shopping for boys is hard.)

The party is at Central Park, so we have to transport things down there in shifts. Husband is going first with my mom. I’m coming down later with the birthday boy. We’re bringing blankets and toys. Hopefully it arms up a bit. It’s supposed to be 78 degrees today, so I’m hopeful. I just put matches next to my phone so we don’t forget them. I hope Scooba doesn’t freak out when we all sing to him. I hope he keeps his little sailor hat on. He’ll probbaly have a good time hanging in the park. He likes grass. I hope he doesn’t get overwhelmed by all the people. My mom is visiting this week, and it took a good two days before he’s super cool with her. The first day he would let him hold her, but only if I was there. Now he actively searches her out to play. All these other new folks? Ehhhh, I don’t know.

Cake? Baby’s first frosting? We let him have a little cupcake on his birthday. He didn’t seem to love it. However, I’ve seen the pictures. The frosting all over that baby’s face, the smile of joy and the sweet, sweet sugar. The messy look of after-cake glow. I’m kinda wondering though, if those pics were staged. Scooba just turned his nose up at the cupcake. No smiles. No smearing. Maybe the crowd will stir up feelings of cake-love? We shall see.

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