Dub and Me out and about pre-baby…
For me to join a Mom’s Club. Yes. There it is. I once mocked it, not understanding the true need for one. When my BFF Janice had my gorgeous, amazing, little godson Ben, I didn’t understand why she wanted to join one, I mean she had ME! And I was more than happy to come over and see them and go shopping with them and yes please! let me diaper and snuggle him and take him to the park with you and you don’t need those other moms! But Janice persisted and found a group of women who not only supported her in the way that I did, but also spoke a language that I did not speak at that time. Even though she had non mom friends she needed other moms.
Now me, here in DC. I don’t know anyone. And by anyone, I mean truly, anyone. There is one girl from my husbands high school is pregnant now and I adore her but we’re just getting to know one another and making friends as an adult is hard! I mean, I’ve had the same best friends for *cough* years!
So, it’s occurred to me that perhaps the time has come that I change my attitude! Max is now quite mobile, toddling a little bit and climbing stairs at a NASCAR pace and I think he might benefit from some friends. And yeah, me too. I’m a social gal. I’m used to lunches and mani/pedis and shopping trips….maybe those will be replaced with trips to the playground and mom’s night out, but that might be wonderful too! I know I can’t keep staying at home like this. I need to stop mourning the loss of my ‘old’ life and start embracing the new.
That doesn’t mean I will stop missing Dub and Janice and I’ll still be thinking of all the fun things we had planned to do with Ben and Zuzu. I mean…my two besties (BFF Jen is CF by choice) and I all with BOYS. *Sniff* *Sob* but maybe I’ll meet some new mommy friends here. And maybe one or two of them might want to escape sans babies
every once in a while for a mani/pedi and a lunch! Here’s hoping!!
Dub and Me, post baby celebration…
It’s my very first one! Cause it’s all about me ya know…my father passed away when I was very little (add that to the ‘oh that’s why I was messed up as a kid’ file.) and so we never celebrated or acknowledged it in any way. I don’t have any memories of Father’s Day even being spoke of at our house. I didn’t even really realize it was in June until I got married and we sent my father in law things. Talk about denial! Last year when I was pregnant we celebrated a little bit, too afraid to tempt the fates to go all out with the baby 6 weeks away, but this year he is here and fat and happy and let the celebrating begin!In a too-cute-for-words decision my husband has decided we should celebrate and Benny Hannas because that’s where they always celebrated his birthday when he was a kid. So cute. Here’s hoping Sweet Baby Max likes the cooking show as much as he liked the Beatles Tribute show Rain (which was totally awesome and you should go if you like the Beatles at all!)
One of the reasons I’ve always been scared to have a daughter is that I was so messed up myself. I was a daughter in desperate need of a father. It’s terribly embarrassing to be midway through a psych course in childhood and teenage development and realize you are a clinical case, a stereotype of a girl with Daddy issues. It is only by the grace of God that I didn’t fully go down the Rabbit Hole.
As I watch my FIL with my SIL and watch my husband with her, those fears start to fade. I do want another baby, and hopefully another boy. But truly watching how similar my sister in law and I are (we even have the same birthday) by nature but how different by nurture, I see even more how a strong father influence can make all the difference.
My husband is a wonderful father to Max, already there is basketball and lots of silly dancing and pratfalls. Anything to get a Max giggle! Max is truly lucky to have a father (and a grandfather) who will want to be involved in anything he does. He wants to do theatre? We’ll be there building the sets. Well, the boys will be. I’ll be doing the costumes or choreographing or directing the shows, Zach might direct too! Soccer? He’s got a coach. Baseball, basketball whatever it is! Unless it’s math and then we’re all screwed. We’ll get him the best tutor ever. Whatever he is interested in we will be involved.
I wish all the Father’s out there a wonderful day. Thank you for being good daddies to our precious babies.
Especially you Zach Dulli. This last year has been the greatest having Max, but one of the worst with almost everything else! I see how hard you are working and I love you even more for it. Thank you for working to take care of us. Thank you for singing Luck Be a Lady just one more time and spinning Max around because it makes him laugh. Thank you for hopping in the bathtub fully clothed when Max was freaking out. Thank you for having my back at the pediatricians and thank you for keeping your sense of humor. You are the bestest!! Here’s to your first Father’s day, and here’s to many, many more to come!
One sense of humor where babies are concerned. Night before last we went to see The Hangover, which I should have loved, loved, loved. It was indeed very funny and Zach Galifianakis is a freaking comedy genius, Ed Helms is no slouch and eye candy Bradley Cooper more than holds his own, since he’s not just a pretty boy he’s a real live trained actor! Which when you look like Bradley Cooper is not really a requirement in Hollywood but this boy knows his Ibsen and Chekov and can throw down with the best of them so I happily forked over my money to see it.And it was really freaking funny. But, there’s a baby. One seriously, ridiculously cute little baby. We meet the baby after they’ve partied so hard they remember nothing and oops! there’s a baby in the closet. Hmmm. Curious. No biggie, our three rapscallions take the baby on their wild adventure to connect the dots and find out what the heck happened the night before. No car seat obviously but the sweet little munchkin is strapped into the car after taking a knock on the head from the car door. All is well until they leave the baby in a hot car in the middle of the day in Vegas. WHAT? Bradley Cooper’s character (who is a father, by the way) say’s “it’ll be fine, I cracked a window.” Oh, well thank God someone cracked a window! I really couldn’t pay attention to the scene at hand because all I could think was- baby.car.sun.brain damage. get.the.baby.now!
Of course Zach had to listen to me say horrified -I can’t believe that! Clearly no mothers were on set! Brain damage can occur in minutes, that baby could be dead by the time they get out of there!! (the baby is fine as it’s a comedy!)
Yeah. It’s a movie, I need to lighten up. But someone so stupid it should be spelled stoopid will leave their kid in a car this summer, and crack a window. I’m not talking about the accidental deaths of children in cars, but someone will do it on purpose. Just for a few minutes. And I don’t think that’s funny. I’m not saying it’s the movies fault! But I am saying that now, my perspective is forever altered and things that I wouldn’t have thought twice about now keep me up at night. Like a baby in a car.
Apparently my sense of humor has gone missing in action in regards to anything child/danger related. I am sure my husband will pay a nice reward if anyone sees it, please return and collect your reward. He would like to be able to watch movies like the Hangover without statistics about child endangerment.
Last night during one of our late night text-a-thons Dub was telling me about a friend of ours who is dealing with some vandalism. We’re pretty sure it’s kids or teens since it’s pretty harmless stuff so far and of course we hope it stays that way. Among other random silly things, they buried a HAM in his backyard. A pig? I asked. Nope. A ham. I was trying wrap my brain around this bizarre event, texting her questions furiously. Was it in a can? Like a honey baked Ham? A frozen Ham? How did he find it? Was it in a shallow grave? An open grave?
And that was when it hit me…he’s been HAMBURGLED!
Thank you! Thankyouverymuch! I’ll be here all week! Don’t try the veal, is cruel and disgusting! Tip your waitresses, Goodnight!
Perhaps it was the late hour but I was giggling so hard as I tried to say (text) this to Dub that it took three tries to convince the dang iPhone I did indeed mean Ham Burgled. I didn’t get a text for about three minutes and then I got one…full of typos.
-I’m crying. Too funny.
Then a few moments later- My stomach is killing me and I’m trying to laugh quietly so I don’t wake the baby but I’m dying!
Even all the way across the country I can still make my sister laugh! And honestly, this is quite a feat because even if I’m sort of known as the ‘funny’ one, she is actually WAY funnier than me. The only person who has ever made me laugh almost as hard is my husband. That’s how I know he’s the one.
Ham burgled. It’s such a 7 year old’s joke. Heather (Dub) and I were once reduced to tears when the Archdiocese of LA gave an award to a Cardinal (Or Priest or Dr. I can’t remember) Titse. Tit-See. And they repeated his name over and over and over on the news and because we are seven year old boys…we laughed over and over and over.
My son’s sense of humor is clearly developing in the same vein. Yesterday he crawled all the way across the room and up to me placed his mouth in the crook of my elbow and blew the biggest, wettest, fartiest, zerbert I have ever heard. He then proceeded to roll over onto his back and laugh maniacally for about five minutes while kicking his legs and holding his belly.
We are all enrolled in second grade for the fall.