10 Months

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a crawler.

Harlow figured that just in time for her tenth month birthday, she would demonstrate her mad skills by choosing a target, usually a clump of cat hair, a leaf or some really nasty bit tracked in by the dog, and hurl her body in its general direction. She has not yet mastered the classical hands and knees locomotive crawl; her style is more wounded commando, dragging her body weight with her right elbow while cradling the left elbow at her side. Perhaps an old injury from a previous tour of duty? There is also the crab crawl that she has seen demonstrated by several of her Mothersville playdates. Wood floors + pajamas = a disconcertingly fast scoot that leaves little time for checking email or glancing at a magazine when she's on the move.

Which brings us to babyproofing.

We get that ubiquitous babycenter email, the one that presents a laundry list of what your child should be doing by now, followed up by the very passive-aggressive "every child develops at his or her own rate so just never you mind that your kid can't sit up when he should be reciting the alphabet." You know the one. I believe it was months ago that it suggested babyproofing the house. Pick a day, it urged, and plug up those outlets, remove breakable objects and put those little foam corner thingys on the coffee table. And voila. Babyproofed. And this has been my understanding of babyproofing thus far.It's like Christmas, a day you mark on the calendar and prepare for by opening up some boxes and putting some stuff out. Boom. Easy. Babyproofed.

The email made no mention of fishing that piece of carpet lint out of her mouth after failing to spot it even after vacuuming the rug - twice. About the popcorn kernel she almost swallowed when no popcorn has been popped in this house - ever. About her passion for mail, particularly bills, and the bits of envelope that she deftly moistens and swallows. About the cat vomit that I can't just partially clean up. About how sometimes I hate my animals and their hair so much that I fantasize about an accidentally open door and 20 degree weather and heavy traffic. About what it is like as an adult to see the world from baby's perspective again, and see giants and magic and really, really nasty carpet.

Harlow is 10 months old today, and I am madly in love with this creature. It's reassuring, this enjoying being a mom, of not secretly watching the clock until her nap time but actually being a little sad when we part ways for a bit. She is pure sunshine, this 10 month old version, even with snot pouring out of her nose and guttural snarling that makes her sound like a werewolf at my breast. Everything is funny - the light fixtures at which she constantly points, my laptop, the dog (good thing, too, buddy - you're safe for now.) She scoots through the world keeping up a constant stream of narration. Holy crap! she says to me at the grocery store, at Holiday Ham, at the foot of the bed. Have you SEEN this place?

It's easy to say now that I really don't care what she becomes or the path that she chooses, just so long as she always has this passion about the world in front of her. It's pretty damn infectious.

100 Things Part 2

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Because i know you've been waiting with bated breath....

51. I like to look up the meaning of sayings and expressions, like, bated breath, which is a contraction of the word "abated" meaning to hold one's breath from terror, awe or other extreme emotions.
52. I am happiest when I am traveling; I get antsy if I'm in town for more than a few weeks.
53. I considered a career in airport management to help increase efficency when it comes to checking in, boarding, retrieving bags etc.
54. I studied at St. John's College in Oxford.
55. I represented the French Club in my high school Junior Miss pageant and performed a monologue about a woman who killed her husband and hung his corpse up in her closet for my talent contribution.
56. I kissed a guy named Bernie for beads at Mardi Gras.
57. I haven't had a glass of red wine since my 25th birthday.
58. My worst migraine episode was a direct result of #57
59. Halloween is my favorite holiday.
60. I, too, find it a damn shame that Austin is in Texas. I also would prefer to live in San Francisco and drink wine rather than water and was starting to think Stephanie was my soulmate until her #99, but then she won me back with #101.
60 a. I think Memphis should take notes from France; in August, let's just agree to close up shop for the month and get the hell out.
61. In high school some girls made a up a mean song about me to the tune of Iko Iko.
62. I did not know it was possible to do my hair until I moved to California
63. As soon as I get home from seeing a movie, regardless of how good or bad it was, I look up scores of reviews about it on Rotten Tomatoes.
64. I cannot stand it when people over-enunciate the "r" in words like "crisp" and find it bizarre that voiceover artists in commercials are hired precisely because they do that
65. My husband and I spent two weeks in Paris for free housesitting a cat with a thyroid condition.
66. I can hold a pretty serious grudge
67. I am extremely gullible
68. Global warming really, really scares me
69. I bruise easily - physically and emotionally
70. My socks rarely match, and I thought it was just my "thing" until I realize my daughter's socks don't match either, because her mother is lazy.
71. I hate doing the dishes
72. My weirdest job involved driving all over southern California photographing Bank of America properties for a realty company.
73. I was paid to photograph a period 1807 wedding.
74. I am fairly obsessed with stationery - letterpress, screenprinted, handmade etc.
75. Even though I had a wonderful upbringing here, I am afraid of raising my child in such a poor, hyper-religious, racially divided city.
76. I had a brief love affair with an Italian in the south of Italy. He spoke no English, I spoke no Italian. So we spoke high school French. And the language of love, I suppose.
77. When we encountered each other a couple of years later, I was flattered and guilty that his eyes were red and swollen from crying as I had fallen in love with someone else. Turned out he'd just had lasik eye surgery.
78. I ate Gorbachev's leftover potato chips. No, this is not a euphemism.
79. I was called-back for the role that eventually went to Claire Danes in The Rainmaker. I was not called back for the role that eventually went to Reese Witherspoon in Man in the Moon.
80. I spent a day with Francis Ford Coppola on the set.
81. I delievered Meals on Wheels to a woman in downtown LA who fed most of it to her 30 pound Chihuahua.
82. A moment that rivals giving birth and marrying my husband for the emotions it stirred in me - my riding a horse at dusk on the beach in the rain in Ireland.
83. My 20th birthday included a picnic on a hilltop in Edinburgh in front of ancient ruins, being serenaded by bagpipes, drinking some Scotsmen under the table and eating a birthday cake with strangers on a pubcrawl. My 21st included a strawberry margarita at a memphis Mexican restaurant and waking up the next morning on my boyfriend's bathroom floor. And then having to go to work.
84. Because of #82, I always suggest horseback riding when the opportunity presents itself and then realize how much I hate it.
85. I am a foodie that is not ashamed to admit a love for Benihana.
86. I was proposed to on a private jet and in Canada.
87. This list is reminding me of how fun my life has been thus far.
88.I am only half joking when I say I think my cat is trying to kill me.
89. I am not joking when I say I often think about killing my cat.
90. My dog had a talent agent.
91. I saw my husband for the first time at mile 18 of the LA marathon as he stood under the Marquis at Mann's Chinese Theater.
92. I almost named my daughter Zasu after Zasu Pitts.
93. My wedding was featured in a magazine.
94. My favorite food is chicken tamales from the Larchmont Farmers Market in LA, followed closely by the chicken tamales at Guelaguetza with the chicken tamales at the downtown LA library Farmers Market a solid third.
95. I won second place in the Bad Stephen King contest.
96. I make a mean seven-hour lamb.
97. My favorite TV show of all time is Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
98. I wish I was as funny as my sister.
99. If I had a tenth of my father's work ethic and business smarts I'd be a millionaire today.
100. I love Chick Fil-A and would drive an hour out of my way to visit the only one in the state of California. Now you know why I moved back to Memphis.

Saturday

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Baby Girl has her first honest to goodness nose-is-a-snot-faucet cold, so Saturday was all about hunkering down (for her) and making comfort food (for her sleepy parents). Breakfast was banana French toast sandwiches (Rickie's challah (HOLLAH!) was pretty much the perfect eggy bread). Sadly it was eaten too quickly for photographic evidence. We ventured out to Square Foods for one last oatburger as they are closing next week. The service was always fair to middling, those chips were pretty stale, but damn they could make some good cookies. Too bad. If only a certain locavore chef with a passion for seasonal eating would open up a market/deli in its place...

Dinner was a chicken/sweet potato/orange tagine with couscous and toasted almonds, followed by yet another batch of chocolate chip cookies. The Green&Black's chocolate was crazy rich yet did nothing to improve the general glue like consistency of the batter. I followed the stupid recipe to the T and clearly something wasn't right. Like leaving out the sugar.

I forgot to mention that I have made a kind of informal resolution to bake once a week. When I was pregnant and had gestational diabetes, I went and bought every baking cookbook I could find. My masochistic much self started baking cupcakes and giving them to other people since I couldn't eat them. Then when I had the baby and got the all clear to start stuffing myself with sugar again, I realized I had a baby. Pretty much zero time for leisurely baking. So cut to almost 10 months later - a truly magical period (I say period because I know it can't last forever) Harlow takes easy, predictable naps and Mama has time to get out her flour and sugar and crack open Dorrie Greenspan's Baking and get to work. So far there have been two fairly edible chocolate chip cookie batches and some pretty yummy chocolate chip cherry scones. I think a cake may be on the horizon.

Little Drummer Girl


My dreams of having a family band are one step closer to reality...

100 Things

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

This whole 100 Things challenge kicked off by Kristy, updated bySAM and improved upon byStacey and Stephanie, started off fun and has now become the bloggy equivalent of a term paper. No one is more surprised than me. I mean, why stop at 100? It's me, for Pete's sake. I could teach a class. It turns out by #15 or so I didn't find myself that fascinating either.

So, in no particular order, 1-51.

1. I had chronic head/neckaches everyday from around age 13 to 25 until I started Pilates.
2. When I was 13 a boy I had a crush on tried to "crack" my neck like a chiropractor. See #1.
3. I have a stripper pole in my house and know how to use it. Too bad it's collecting dust in storage.
4. I am told I look like Hilary Swank about once a week; I wish I found her attractive.
5. When I lived in LA I was told I looked like Mia Farrow about once a week. I found her attractive - pre-Woody.
6. I ran a marathon.
7. My first engagement was called off by my fiance.
8. On the day I was supposed to get married I raced in a triathlon for charity.
9. My skin and hair never looked prettier then when I was pregnant.
10. I am depressed by how much I procrastinate. Like right now, for instance.
11. I've been in the presence of a ghost.
12. I was ten rows back from Dr. McDreamy on a flight that made an emergency landing.
13. I compulsively shop online but only actually buy about a 1/4 of the things I put in the cart.
14. My cat won second place in LA's fat cat contest.
15. I had a dream about my husband playing basketball years before I met him.
16. I'm intimidated by any kind of group sport. Even bacci ball.
17. I have terrible depth perception.
18. I can't watch Ali G or Borat or kind of show where the goal is to make people uncomfortable.
19. I was swindled out of a very large sum of money by a psychic.
20. I have a scar on my ankle from a motorcycle I rode in Italy.
21. I have been to Africa twice.
22. TV's Tony Soprano and Chandler Bing were dicks to me on 2 separate occasions.
23. Thanks to breastfeeding, I weigh less now than when I was in high school.
24. I make cookies once a week and I'm still a barely competent baker. I always manage to leave out one major ingredient.
25. I would rather spend my money on a great meal than a pair of shoes or clothing.
26. I am terrified I won't live anywhere else but Memphis.
27. I deeply regret being so co-dependent in my teens and twenties that I missed out on some great friendships.
28. I can spell almost any word without looking at it.
29. My husband is prettier than I am.
30. I eat chocolate everyday.
31. I enthusiastically sign up for continuing education classes but usually drop out before the term is over.
32. I leave clutter in my wake.
33. I have a large, round birthmark on my shoulder.
34. My torn earlobe made for a great conversation piece before my parents paid me to have it sewn up.
35. Because of a slightly downturned mouth, strangers often encourage me to smile which makes me want to inflict bodily harm.
36. I had a flare up of eczema on my legs so disfiguring that I wore jeans everyday for two years.
37. I gave bad directions to Penn Gillette.
38. I am usually always cold and would happily live in the Palm Springs desert for eternity.
39. I spent 2 years researching and writing a screenplay about the Bell Witch only to trumped by a fellow no-name who sold his Bell Witch spec for $$$ and got Reese Witherspoon attached.
40.I have been told by more people than I care to admit that they assumed I was a stuck up bitch until they got to know me.
41. Newborns still make me extremely nervous.
42. Getting on antidepressants has changed my life for the better.
43. I am learning to play the ukulele.
44. I am avoiding a crushing load of work by writing this.
45. It used to really, really upset me that my husband never complimented me or told me I was pretty. And then he called me a good mom.
46. I have really violent dreams.
47. When I was ten I thought I was a werewolf.
48. The best and worst day of my life both involve my daughter.
49. I don't think I'll ever be as great a mom as my own.
50. My 2 favorite genres of movies are horror and dance movies. I'm thinking it's time for a crossover.
51. Because of #50, I know the Thriller dance by heart.

Hallelujah

That distant shouting you heard this morning? From my rooftop? Transcribed here in case you missed it.

Down at 8. Up at 5 to eat and then right back to sleep.

Of course I was so excited I had to get up. But that's ok. House is quiet. It's just me, my ukulele and the sunrise.

Heath

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

I was all prepared to write about something else. About how Harlow is just minutes from crawling. About my ukulele. About my love affair with zoloft. About Harlow's amazing new babysitter!

But all I can think about is how sad I am that Heath Ledger is gone.

I read the news that he was found dead this afternoon, and as silly as it sounds, I felt like I'd lost a friend.

I've been fascinated by him ever since I saw him in 10 Things I Hate About You - a crap teen comedy whose only redeeming factor was the adorable Aussie with the shaggy hair and sweet dance moves. When I first moved to LA, it seemed every bus in town was plastered with ads for a forgettable series called Roar - but I never forgot the handsome mug whose face accompanied me on my commute to Warner Bros. He seemed set for a future of pretty boy romantic comedies, but he surprised us. There was the tragic, stunted son in Monster's Ball, the aging, wheeler dealer California boy in Lords of Dogtown. And then just absolute heartbreaking perfection in Brokeback Mountain. After I saw the trailer for the new Batman, I got chills. I told Caleb that I felt like I was witnessing the birth of a star. Here was a future Robert Duvall, a Pacino. An actor who was handsome enough to carry a film yet talented enough to make you forget about those looks when he disappeared inside a character. He was just getting started, and now he's gone, leaving behind a daughter who will only know him like the rest of us can - from his movies. So incredibly sad for his family. So incredibly sad for us.

Blue Ribbon Babies

Sunday, January 20, 2008


I feel like crap, so it's just the facts, man.

Friday night our sitter arrived and Grandpa John and I had to make a quick stop before dinner and Caleb's show. Unfortunately it was to Le Bonheur where Avery was transferred by ambulance after taking a very scary fall. She ended up with a skull fracture but thankfully was discharged the following day when she was already back to being her usual on-11 self. These kids, man. Made out of luck and rubber.

Caleb played a great show and even had some cocktail hour groupies arrive to catch the last couple songs. Came home, gave the baby girl a nightcap, got in bed, and woke up at 6 the next morning after sleeping straight through the night. That would be because Harlow slept through the night.


Yes, you read that right. I woke to her crying and my boobs bursting and just as I was going to check on her, she fell back asleep and didn't get back up until 7. I just laid in bed in savored the wonder that is uninterrupted sleep. Grandpa John kindly volunteered to watch the baby so we got to out for a second babyless night in a row, this time to see No Country for Old Men. Gorged myself on Milk Duds, saw a great movie, drank a beer at Otherlands where we caught the last songs of Blair's set and was in bed before eleven.

Grandparents rock. So do Milk Duds, the Coen Brothers, Cocktail Hour concert goers, and rubber babies. Stromboli from Little Italy? Not so much. Like, 24 hours ago and really, not so much.

Babydaddy Blues

Friday, January 18, 2008




Harlow's Daddy had his local TV debut today, and he made her extremely proud. I'm working on the whole YouTube thingy, so until then, here are a few screencaps.

What's in the Stars

Sunday, January 13, 2008



Over the weekend I spoke with my western astrologer*, partly to get an unpdate on my stars and partly because she is the mistress of a very famous author I love and I get some cool stories. She basically reiterated what she had said before, that this was my time to be working my ass off because in about a year and a half the universe was gonna start giving back i.e., publication. I was floored to hear that her boyfriend procrastinates like the devil and then writes his novels in like, six weeks. And doesn't rewrite them. The rat bastard. She said that Caleb had about 4 years to go before his fortunes were going to change to which he replied that the whole thing was bullshit anyway. I told him she said that he would say that, and then I quickly looked for somewhere to hide. She had information on Harlow which I was a little weirded out to accept. I have no problem consulting horoscopes and talking to psychics about what's in store for me. But, to me, Harlow is a Christmas present I get to open up every morning. I don't want anything to spoil what's inside. That said, she claimed that Harlow was going to be "exceedingly attractive" and magnetic but cursed with a terrible inner compass on who would make a proper mate. Sounds like every teenager I've ever met.

* My Cali roots run firm and deep, which means by default I engaged in the some of the shallowest of pursuits. At one point I had an agent on the wrong side of the hill, a manager who took me on because I was a leg model, a Beverly Hills therapist, a lesbian Pilates instructor with a TV pilot in the works, Bon Jovi's tour chiropractor, a Nambudiprad's Allergy Elimination Technique practitioner, an aesthetician who was divorced by a multimillionaire and still couldn't believe she "waxed punani" for a living, a GP who was the on-call physician for the Chateau Marmont, an agent for my dog, a vedic astrologer, a western astrologer, a psychic whose niece makes the best pastries in LA and a massage therapist who grew up with Joss Whedon.

Does that count as 1 of my 100 Things?

100 Things

This whole 100 Things challenge kicked off by Kristy, updated bySAM and improved upon byStacey and Stephanie, started off fun and has now become the bloggy equivalent of a term paper. No one is more surprised than me. I mean, why stop at 100? It's me, for Pete's sake. I could teach a class. It turns out by #15 or so I didn't find myself that fascinating either.

So, in no particular order, 1-51.

1. I had chronic head/neckaches everyday from around age 13 to 25 until I started Pilates.
2. When I was 13 a boy I had a crush on tried to "crack" my neck like a chiropractor. See #1.
3. I have a stripper pole in my house and know how to use it. Too bad it's collecting dust in storage.
4. I am told I look like Hilary Swank about once a week; I wish I found her attractive.
5. When I lived in LA I was told I looked like Mia Farrow about once a week. I found her attractive - pre-Woody.
6. I ran a marathon.
7. My first engagement was called off by my fiance.
8. On the day I was supposed to get married I raced in a triathlon for charity.
9. My skin and hair never looked prettier then when I was pregnant.
10. I am slightly awed by how much I procrastinate.
11. I've been in the presence of a ghost.
12. I was ten rows back from Dr. McDreamy on a flight that made an emergency landing.
13. I compulsively shop online but only actually buy about a 1/4 of the things I put in the cart.
14. My cat won second place in LA's fat cat contest.
15. I had a dream about my husband playing basketball years before I met him.
16. I'm intimidated by any kind of group sport. Even bacci ball.
17. I have terrible depth perception.
18. I can't watch Ali G or Borat or kind of show where the goal is to make people uncomfortable.
19. I was swindled out of a very large sum of money by a psychic.
20. I have a scar on my ankle from a motorcycle I rode in Italy.
21. I have been to Africa twice.
22. TV's Tony Soprano and Chandler Bing were dicks to me on 2 separate occasions.
23. Thanks to breastfeeding, I weigh less now than when I was in high school.
24. I make cookies once a week and I'm still a barely competent baker. I always manage to leave out one major ingredient.
25. I would rather spend my money on a great meal than a pair of shoes or clothing.
26. I am terrified I won't live anywhere else but Memphis.
27. I deeply regret being so co-dependent in my teens and twenties that I missed out on some great friendships.
28. I can spell almost any word without looking at it.
29. My husband is prettier than I am.
30. I eat chocolate everyday.
31. I enthusiastically sign up for continuing education classes but usually drop out before the term is over.
32. I leave clutter in my wake.
33. I have a large, round birthmark on my shoulder.
34. My torn earlobe made for a great conversation piece before my parents paid me to have it sewn up.
35. Because of a slightly downturned mouth, strangers often encourage me to smile which makes me want to inflict bodily harm.
36. I had a flare up of eczema on my legs so disfiguring that I wore jeans everyday for two years.
37. I gave bad directions to Penn Gillette.
38. I am usually always cold and would happily live in the Palm Springs desert for eternity.
39. I spent 2 years researching and writing a screenplay about the Bell Witch only to trumped by a fellow no-name who sold his Bell Witch spec for $$$ and got Reese Witherspoon attached.
40.I have been told by more people than I care to admit that they assumed I was a stuck up bitch until they got to know me.
41. Newborns still make me extremely nervous.
42. Getting on antidepressants has changed my life for the better.
43. I am learning to play the ukulele.
44. I am avoiding a crushing load of work by writing this.
45. It used to really, really upset me that my husband never complimented me or told me I was pretty. And then he called me a good mom.
46. I have really violent dreams.
47. When I was ten I thought I was a werewolf.
48. The best and worst day of my life both involve my daughter.
49. I don't think I'll ever be as great a mom as my own.
50. My 2 favorite genres of movies are horror and dance movies. I'm thinking it's time for a crossover.
51. Because of #50, I know the Thriller dance by heart.

How Bad Does This Suck?

Friday, January 11, 2008

I think it only could be worse if it had been the spawn of Paris Hilton.

Anorexic, pill-popping, coke-addicted, wrong-way driving on the freeway celebutard Nicole Richie just had her Green Day* baby.

And named her Harlow.

I'm so sorry, baby girl. Your dad and I gave you a very pretty, unique name. Hope you enjoyed it before you read it about it tomorrow on PerezHilton.com

Edited to say 1) don't blog angry 2) Green Day kind of redeemed it for me. Good (shudder) Charlotte. Oh balls.

Babysitting

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Holy shit we're parents.

6:15. The doorbell rings. It's the babysitter, adorable in glasses and Chuck Taylors, here to sit for our kid so we can go out to dinner. I show her how to work the TV and leave phone numbers and tell her to help herself to the fridge, because that's what I was told last week when I was babysitting. At least I could swear it was last week. And so we had a really nice dinner - half of which was spent discussing how weird it felt having a babysitter so we could actually be out having dinner. And we came home to a quiet house, a sleeping baby, and a babysitter who would love to come back and is going to come back. So we get to do it again, this dating thing with no baby. But then that's how that baby showed up in the first place, so we'll have to be on our guard.

But that's ok. I feel old and grownup and strange and so, so happy to be dating my husband again.

It's Alive!

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

There is something living in our bedroom walls.

It only comes out at night.

And it is coming for me.

5 AM. I'm awakened by this sound, this ominous crackling, popping, gnawing ruckus. Harlow is next to me, Caleb across the hall in sweet, solitary queen bed slumber. My bleary brain tries to process what the hell is going on. My first thought - the house is on fire! I had lit candles that afternoon, did I forget to blow them out? No, no smoke, no fire. Ok. Is someone pushing the trashcan out to the curb, rocks and leaves crunching under the wheels? No, this is much louder, because it is coming from right behind my head.

There is something in the wall. Something big. Behind my bed!

Did the rains lodge a person in our wall? Is this some Poe-esque tale come to life? Because I could swear there is a grown ass man stomping around inside the wall right behind my bed. Like the intrepid heroine I am, I jump up and run to Caleb.

Me: Caleb, there's something in the wall. It sounds really big.

Caleb: --- (this silence is actually translated as "right, remember when I took the bed apart the other night when I heard something scratching on it? It's a probably a mouse.)

Me: --- (??? a mouse!!!! wtf???) well?

Finally...

Caleb: There's nothing I can do about it right now. I'll go crawl around there in the morning.

I ran back to the room. What if it had been a trap? Some terrible noise to send me running so that an evil minion, or perhaps David Bowie in spandex and Tina Turner hair come to take my daughter into the Labyrinth. But no such evil awaited. Just a very paranoid mama who got very little sleep.

Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if we hadn't watched 28 Weeks Later right before bed. (For the record, I totally ruled out zombies in the wall) Or that I had spent two years of my life researching and writing a screenplay about the Bell Witch who just happened to come up in conversation the day before. You know, that legendary poltergeist who first appeared to her victims by gnawing and scratching on the bedposts?

Ooh - Caleb is going into the attic as I type this. I'm gonna go provide backup. You know, just in case it's David Bowie.

Winter Wonderland

Monday, January 7, 2008

Because he did such a great job, I have to post Allan's little film of our time in Colorado. Part 1 of the opus. Pardon the giddiness. California people get a little freaked out by the snow.

Your Image

Monday


In the ritual that is Daddy-Daughter time, I try not to ask too many questions. Like when they come home smelling like cigar smoke.

And can I just add a little side note and pen a quick little love note to blogger? Thank you sweet baby blogger for finally deigning to look down your nose at we meek but proud safari/mac users and give us actual buttons to put things in bold and make them italicizedand
put them in quotes
and holy jesus - actually have one button to press to make a hyperlink instead going here and copying and pasting I feel drunk with power.

The thank you list expands. Thank you to mom and dad for watching Harlow yesterday so we could actually go see a movie. As we approached the theater, our hands intwined, natural as breathing. And then we both looked at each other, weirded out to feel so light, so babybag, babygirl free. As Caleb said, he felt strange to not be the parent, the dad holding the baby. Just some dude buying popcorn and Milk Dud deliciousness for his girl. And oh the coke. And the previews! How excited am I for Heath Ledger as The Joker? I'm lining up a babysitter now. And for the record - I am Legend. Eh. There's no way it could have been as good the near perfect book by Richard Matheson.

Thank you to Zoloft for making me feel so weirdly positive this Monday morning.

Thank you to the adorable Ellen Page/Juno-esque girl who contacted me through sittercity who liked our profile so much she really wants to babysit for us. Thank you for spell checking and proofreading and including a picture that is not you as seen through the Hubble Space Telescope. As I have lots of movies I'd like to see, I think we can work out an arrangement.

2008

Friday, January 4, 2008


Happy New Year! My last minutes of 2007 found me curled around my screaming child, doing my damndest not to be bitter about missing ringing in 08 with my tipsy, flare lighting compatriots. Happily, Harlow released me for a few moments so I could curl myself around my husband and kiss to surviving childbirth, broken legs, chronic sleep deprivation and salute to our strength as a couple, as parents, as individuals. Not so much as petowners, but hey, we can’t be perfect. I joke because otherwise I'd cry. Our first drama of 2008 hit us hard on the 2nd when we learned that our petsitter had not been to check on the animals since we left. At all. Miraculously they are fine and the house only slightly damaged. It was a horrible misunderstanding that fortunately turned out okay. My newest resolution? Don’t take anything for granted.

As for Miss Harlow, her resolutions are to attempt that crawling thing so she can go from point A to point B without all the hollering, cling tightly to mama especially when mama needs both hands, and get that much cuter so the first two resolutions don't drive her parents to leave her with the petsitter next time they travel.

Miss Suzy Q kept a blog of the Colorado hijinks here.