In Which We All Act Dumb in Our Jammies

The other morning, Harry woke us up at 5:30 by yelling "Mama! Dada! Mmmmmm!" He only says "mmmmm" when he's hungry, but at first, we didn't believe he could possibly be hungry at such an early hour, and we dismissed his cries as a clever ruse. He insisted, though, so we got up and went downstairs where Harry ate a scrambled egg, a bagel with cream cheese, a yogurt, and a banana. Mmmm indeed.

Saturday morning, he woke up at 5:30 again, sounding disturbingly chipper. We left him alone, since he was playing happily with his cribful of stuffed animals, and we were almost back to sleep when he started yelling, "Hep! Hep! Mama! Dada! Hep!" We rushed into his room to find him sitting up with his legs sticking through his crib slats, stuck at the meaty little thigh. When we pried him out, he was happy as can be and WIDE AWAKE.

Even though these pictures were taken before 9, we'd been up for literally hours.

Harry couldn't decide whether to rock or spin.

He went with both.

And this teeny hat.

Ben showed him how the master does it

We don't eff around with Ciifford in this house.

Oh my gosh! Where are Ben and Harry? I can't see them anywhere!

Room Make Over Update

I know you've all been waiting with bated breath to see what the next stage of the process entails. Kidding. Although the writers' strike has slowed down the steady flow of entertaining media, that's for sure. We either watch the worst reality tv ever invented (The Gauntlet, Biggest Loser Couples), or we watch the election. Project Runway is the best thing on TV right now, and its not even that good. But then, Lost starts tomorrow, and Ben is probably trolling spoiler sites even as we speak.

Speaking of the election. We are obsessed-- we watch every debate; we debate every bit of commentary. It's fun, see, because we both like different candidates. I love Hillary, and Ben is all for Obama. (Did he snub her at the State of the Union, or was he REALLY talking to McCaskill?) The rancor with which we discuss the other person's candidate is unsettling to anyone not accustomed to our bickering. It would be very Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf-ish if only I could drink.

Did anybody else think that CNN spent way to much time covering the entrances of presidential candidates and the cabinet members? I felt like I was watching the Golden Globes red carpet I never got to see on E (because that press conference? Terrible!)

Anyway, the room (Yes, I know. My transitions are still weak, but it is early in the semester.)

Bomma and Jack surprised us with a box full of the cutest fire truck bedding we have ever seen, and we are so excited to use it in the new room. We are waiting to transform the crib until we get Harry the heck out of it. Until then, a few sneak peaks:

Here's the quilt and pillow on Harry's bed

Heres the bumper on the crib:

Here's the cute little diaper stacker:

And here's a box full of coordinates: a valance for the window, a dust ruffle for the crib, a fitted sheet, and some really cute wall hangings


Thank you so much for the wonderful baby gift-- something for the brothers to share!

Oral Hygiene, Writers' Block, and Big Shoes

Harry really likes to brush his teeth, which is good because he eats a lot, and they get dirty. The toothbrush he's using in these pictures used to be really cool-- it lit up for 3 minutes (or whatever the proper tooth brushing time is) with red flashing lights. But unfortunately, it's been loved to death and no longer lights. Harry doesn't seem to mind.

Notice that he is also modeling some fetching fire truck jammies from his Grandma Karen. Now if he would only sleep in the damn bed. Every night we ask him if that's where he wants to sleep, and every night he points at the crib and says "Shhhh," which is what he says when he's talking about sleep.

This sparkling prose might make you think that this blog is where I am experiencing my block, but no. This babble just flowed off my fingers, people, like freaking magic.

It's my friggin dissertation. The last damn chapter. I think the problem is that it is the last chapter. I mean, I don't want it to read like the catch-all chapter, you know? But the truth is, there are a lot of issues and a lot of documents that I have tossed in a pile and thought, "This is so cool-- it doesn't fit in with discourses of health and democracy, but I can talk about it later," or "Wow. This has nothing to do with eugenics, but it sure is fascinating." Well, just because something doesn't fit in chapter 3, and something else doesn't fit in chapter 2 doesn't mean that they fit together, you know?

I also just recently remembered that the working title of my work is "Abortion and the 'Good Mother': Blah, Blah, Blah" and I haven't really talked to much about abortion, which may be problematic. The good thing is that lots of the really cool stuff in my messy pile is about abortion, but not all of it, and the stuff that isn't, really isn't.

So, yeah. Also I want to talk about the Pill and about population control and about some of the hilarious pamphlets I found, especially the ones geared toward men and the ones about sex after childbirth, but you gotta draw the line somewhere, right?

That's my issue-- where should the lines go?

All the advice books about dissertating say that sometimes, you just have to write shit, and I remember getting this advice in undergrad writing classes, too. But that advice is a lot like "Sleep when the baby sleeps," in that it is much easier said than done, is really annoying to hear after awhile, and it doesn't get the laundry folded, so to speak.

How cute is Harry in Ben's shoes, by the way? He wore them all the way into his toy closet before he took the inevitable tumble and banged his head on the wall.

Muffies!

The other day, Harry grabbed the cupcake pan from the cabinet and took it over to his kitchen, saying "Muffies," which is probably the cutest thing he's ever said. Well, he says monkey pretty cute, and he calls markers markies, which is cute, too, but muffies just really appealed to me. So, last night we indulged his craving. (Also my craving, coincidentally. I have been htting up the Starbucks blueberry muffins pretty hard lately. Especially since that study about caffeine came out and retroactively scared the crap out of me. So blueberry muffins and decaf cinnamon dolce lattes it is).

First, Harry played around with the the muffin cups and the pan


I died laughing when he tried to cram it in his oven (which was already full of salt shakers and peas, duh)

Then I actually made the muffins, and Harry went batshit crazy. Turned out he just wanted to lick the bowl. And who can blame him?







Sadly, in this video, he claims to be making cookies (tooties), not muffies, but its still pretty adorable.

Little Gym

As you could probably tell from the preivious posts, this week was the end of Harry's second Little Gym semester. I'm actually going to miss seeing all the preshus little babies in his class, but don't worry, we start our new semester next week, featuring a new cast of preshus babies.

Little Gym has undoubtedly been good for Harry and for me-- we met his BFF Josephine after all. Harry can do a forward roll by himself, and he is much better at listening to directions. At the beginning of the semester, he didn't want to stay on the Big Red! Mat! for warm ups, but now he walks around in a zombie baby circle like a pro. He also really good at prepositions-- he knows on, off, over, under, up, down, in, out (wait, are those prepositions?) because of the parachute and the damn air track (tract?).

BUT, I am really getting sick of it. I can only sing Hawaiian Rainbow so many times a month, people. I do not enjoy bouncing on the vaulting station, and every week it breaks my heart when Harry is the first kid in line for stamps with his little fists and hands sticking out saying "Bamp," and he's not stamped first. No, I don't know why he has to wait, but it makes me sad. Maybe his teacher knows I am not vaulting with all my heart.

I wish there were better activities for an almost 2 y/o, but I haven't found any. When he's 2, though, we have so many options! He can take swim lessons without a parent in the water! There's an art class at a cute little cafe that we can't wait to enroll in, and the same cafe offers baking classes, which also sound adorable. We're also going to check out a Music Together class that I can take Harry and McLovin to. I think, though, that this is it for us and Little Gym. Well, June is it, that is. Surely I have one more semester of pounding on the mat and singing the good bye song in me, right?

Something was so funny

Sometimes, he wants to be under when he's supposed to be on

Seriously, how cute is Josephine? Can we talk about her jeans, people? They're True Religion. Love it.

Finally! Under! Can I just tell you, in the interest of full disclosure, it doesn't always SMELL awesome under the parachute.

We got Harry's every move from every angle on every medium

2 Balls!

"What are you doing after class? Want to hang out at the coffee shop across the street? Maybe grab a bup and a muffie?"

Harry and Jo getting their medals, which Harry still refuses to take off and calls a necklace.


In his necklace after a trip t the coffee shop, where he ate about a quart of blackberries and a gourmet chcolate egg he stole fromy my bag (and unwrapped like a pro).

Tent!!!

Harry still loves his tent, and, as you can see from the video, he loves it when we play in it with him, even though neither one of us fits very well.


Tent!! from sarah on Vimeo.

Little Gym Show Week: Bubbles!

Little Gym Show Week: Balls

Balls!

Hide and Seek With Harry

Besides scaring the crap out of us by standing on anything he can reach (and notice the back pack by his side-- yeah-- he needs it to take a trip from his room to the living room in the morning because he has a lot of important portables to, um, port, like trucks, bups, and slippas),

Harry really enjoys playing "Boo?" At first I thought this was a shortened form of peekaboo, but then I realized that when he says "Boo?" he is actually asking one of two things. Either, "Excuse me, can you go hide some place and then jump out and scare the crap out of me, which will make me cringe and then crack up?" Or, "Hey, let's play this game where I cover my head and think I'm hiding because I can't see you, and you have to look all over for me with exaggerated concern, even though I am in plain sight, okay?" Here's Ben playing the latter.

An excellent hiding place.

"Boo! I was here the whole time, you idiots!"

When he is asked where one of us is hiding, he puts his finger to his lips and says, "Hmmmm."

Where's Ben?

"Wait, I think I see him over there."

What a lovely shawl

The best hiding place of the night.

Things We Did On Our Last Day of Break

1. Balanced a cart on the toilet and announced this feat by screaming Ta Da until Mama got off her lazy ass and followed us into the bathroom with a little trepidation to see what was so cool.

2. Carried this shopping cart around, even tough it was so heavy it made our cheeks red.

3. Were alternately

a. Too cool for pictures

b. Freaked out because we were being followed by some crazy lady with big teeth


4. Raised some hell with this broom


5. Freaking trashed the place

Spring Break here we come! And Fridays. Fridays are reserved for kicking ass and taking names. In our jammies.

Fire Trucks and a New Semester

I'm almost 30 years old, and I'm getting ready for school to start. Still.

I've done my school supply shopping-- a box of purple pens and a legal pad to take lecture notes and a copy of Leopard I borrowed from my dad and am going to install as soon as I finish this post-- and I am excited to be teaching a brand new class this semester.

I actually can't complain because I have an awesome schedule. Monday and Wednesday mornings, I will attend the lecture for the class I teach and will be home hours before noon. Tuesdays, I teach from nap time through dinner, and Thursday afternoons I have office hours, time to write, and a rhetoric colloquium. Harry and I have plenty of time to go to the gym everyday, and Fridays, we only have Little Gym to occupy our time. Not too shabby, huh?

Still, I am sad that break is over, even though I was pretty damn busy this past month, writing a chapter and working on another project. I will miss lazy mornings in my pj's, working out whenever I felt like it, and spending almost every waking moment with Harry.

I won't miss changing every poopy diaper that needed to be changed between 7:45 and 5:00, the 3:30 meltdown that occurs almost every afternoon (although I'll still be home for this most days), and never peeing with the door closed.

On the room front (something I'll work on in my writing this semester: transitions), check out these awesome antique fire trucks we got from Harry's grandparents:

Ah, when fire fighters were men and horsepower was from horses.

So tomorrow the semester begins...and hopefully ends before McLovin makes his entrance. Keep your fingers crossed, and I'll cross my legs.

Barnes and Noble. Not Free. That's the Library. Ooops.

We spent an enjoyable hour or two at B&N the other night. Well enjoyable except that I stood in the worst line ever (worst because people were slow and surly and a little smelly-- a really bad combination) at the fake Starbucks counter for decaf and then wound up with a cup of cold coffee that I couldn't do anything about because I couldn't stand to stand in that line again.

That minor issue aside, we all had a blast reading books and buying books (yeah-- we're going to the library from now on, or at least once in awhile because the library doesn't serve coffee, cold or otherwise, but it is right next to the best pie dealer in town. Ha! Pie dealer! I can't decide if that would be funnier if it were like a drug dealer with pies, or a car dealership selling pies. Probably cars. Like, could I take a test drive? Finance my pie? Would my fudge bottom taste better with a moon roof? Not MY fudge bottom-- that's gross-- I would never say that-- who does say that, really? I mean pie that's chocolate on the bottom layer and-- never mind. This has gotten very odd and tangential. Although the drug dealer with pies? Also funny. Could I freebase pie, maybe? Snort it? Smoke it? ).

The point is, we should borrow books every now and again. Also, at the library, we would not have had to leave with this backpack. This Disney backpack. And I have serious Disney issues, people. How does Disney treat women in their films, I ask you? NOT WELL. I mean, you have all the dead moms (Bambi's, Ariel's, Cinderella's, etc) and all the evil jealous wicked stepmoms (Snow White's, Cinderella's, etc), but then there are the moms you may not even notice as being awful role models until you read between the lines. Mrs. Incredible, who gives up her superpowers to vacuum while her husband reads the newspaper-- what decade is this people?-- and tells her kids they have to contain their greatness if they want to fit in with society. And this doesn't scratch the surface of the class issues in the Incredibles (like entitlements versus government handouts, for example, and the issue of who is entitled and who is a dependent). But yeah. Another tangent for another day

Keep in mind, he doesn't even know who the hell Mickey Mouse is- he just likes it because it has a handle and wheels. Soon he will buy peripherals for his laptop and start lugging this thing everywhere he goes. Which? Not very far.

But seriously, really cute, huh? And he was so sad when he thought he might have to leave it at the store. Yep. Nothing like rewarding those tears. I'm sure that won't come back to bite us on the ass, huh? Oh, and you should hear him say "Back pack." A-dorable.


Also, Harry likes pie, too. I had a major pregnant moment the other night, and Ben went to the aforementioned pie dealer and scored 3 sweet pieces -- I gave Harry a forkful of peanut butter pie (the best food in the world), and he was suspicious at first, but soon, he licked the fork. Then his eyes lit up, and he sucked the rest down in a heartbeat, saying "Mmmmm, pie. Mo pie.... done...mo pie...mmmm."

Lucy!

Congratulations to Jen and Maurice who had the cutest little baby girl, Lucy Karen, on Monday. We got to see her today, and she was so warm and adorable and pink.

Here she is with her Uncle Ben

And me-- don't I kind of look like I want to eat her? I guess this was amplified by the fact that I was rubbing my hands together (hand sanitizer, you know) moments before she was placed in my arms.

And with both of us. We are soooo excited to be having a new baby of our own in a a little less than a hundred days. Before we saw Lucy, we were excited/scared shitless. Now we're just excited because, as I mentioned, she was so pink and lovely. Also she sleeps a lot-- like 4 hours in a row, something Harry didn't do till he was like 6 months old or something like that. So, if McLovin could be a sleeper, that'd be rad. But, yeah, you're right, We're probably not that lucky. I didn't think so either.

Here's whole cute family, including big brother Max

Harry always acts up in the group photos...

Harry and Max coloring

Harry and his grandma coloring-- clearly, these people do not have same fear of Harry+crayons and markers=ing heinous mess that I do

Here I am sorting through all of Harry's old teeny clothes that his grandparents let us store at their place-- because we swore up and down that it was going to be a really long time before we had another baby. Ha! Surprise!

Harry riding in this super cool car his grandparents have-- it's kind of like the old Pole Position game at the arcade...I need to find one like it because it totally says "big brother" to me! And I used to really like that game.

Harry and his gradparents-- we had a whirlwind trip, but as you can see, it was a blast. We had a high of zero today (yeah, I was depressed about that, too), so we wanted to make sure to drive in the light, which, just doesn't last very long.

I guess we kept the car a bit too warm for Harry's liking because I turned around to find him sans socks. Oh yeah! And he totally calls Lucy "Sucy--" how cute is that?