Curling is an Olympic Sport it takes skill and practice, but recently I think I’ve found an activity that really ought to be included. Diapering a one year old. Bonus points for poopy diapers. The skill with which I can get said diaper off and get him cleaned up before he gets up and takes off is, if I say so myself, impressive. I give myself extra difficulty points for the re-diapering procedure that is executed while chasing after crawling baby. Yes, diapering on the go. Sometimes I catch a break, like a nice breeze in sailing, and he decides to just stand and shake his groove thing to a little Rhianna Please Don’t Stop the Music and a dancing baby is easier than a crawling one to wrap up in Pampers. So maybe that’s a lower difficulty score, but it’s still up there. I wonder how many signatures we would need to get that on the docket.The competition would be fierce. And we can complete the event in hotels, hidden in booths at restaurants, in the back seat of a small car, the playground, in NYC my husband and I both crowded in a teeny bathroom at Palma and changed him while all three of us were standing up. So, no need to build us a stadium or anything, we could just use anywhere…toss in an obstacle course portion! We can handle it! Think of the corporate sponsorship, the possibilities are endless. Ah, the skills I never knew I had! Or should I say skillz. Cause I gots game where this is concerned.
Monthly Archives: July 2009
Day 366 and winning the Gold.
Happy Birthday Max!
Dear Sweet Baby Max,
Things I have done to prepare for the First Birthday Party
- Purchased an ungodly amount of plastic Elmo-ware sure to hasten the demise of the planet and choke the Pacific Gyre beginning July 27 th.
- Made a donation to offset Liberal Guilt associated with Elmo-ware death to sea creatures.
- Actively pursued the explosion of ToysRUs and Fisher Price in our home.
- Dyed my Nightmare on Elm Street-esque grey streak that has developed this year as I feel it is inappropriate to celebrate the culmination of Max’s first year looking as though Freddy Kruger has scared the bejeezuz outta me. (even if he did.)
- Had half the skin on my face ‘dermabraded‘ read: used a sander on my face in a vain (both meanings of the word, utter vanity and totally for naught) attempt to appear as if I have slept 1 of the 365 days since Baby Max arrived.
- Baked Elmo’s head in the form of a cake.
- Begged, pleaded and prayed for Elmo’s head to come out of the pan in one Elmo shaped piece.
- Actually danced around the kitchen when Elmo’s head was successfully released from the pan.
- Laughed at how honest to God pleased and proud of myself I was from this achievement.
- Used all those fantastic make up skills learned from all my years of theatre to painstakingly turn Elmo from blank cake to frosty monster!
- Thanked God that frosting, like make up, is forgiving.
- Purchased a new outfit for me to wear to the party….yeah I know. Max doesn’t care.
- New lip gloss may have snuck in there too.
- I did resist the shoes….
- Giggled as my husband put together the new play set for Max, and so it begins…
- Wondered what on earth we will get him for Christmas! Surely we’ve purchased everything there is to get…
- Oh! Looked at Fisher Price catalog and PBK, now have a new list for Christmas!
- Realized happily how my priorities have changed since Baby Max has been born.
- Decorated the house
- Wished I could do more…
- Wished for another year as happy and healthy as this one.
- Held him close, and let him go as he takes his first wobbly steps towards two.
- Love him. Love him. Love him.
Don’t wear a Maxi dress in NYC and other lessons learned.
Sweet Baby Max, ZD and I just got back from a lovely trip to NYC to visit Max’s Godfather Sean (also ZD’s producing partner) and his fiance Hallie (my awesome friend who just made Rockette! How cool is that?) Max is almost one, it’s about dang time he saw the Big Apple! Talk about a lot of stimulus for a wee one. He proved again, to be a total rockstar. Per usual.
Since he hasn’t had cake yet, he did let me eat my own cupcake from Magnolia Bakery. Delish.
Happy Birthday Isaiah!
I just can’t let the day go by without a public declaration of what happened one year ago today! My precious nephew Isaiah was born! And a mere 6 days later, Baby Max came reluctantly into the world! When Zuzu was born I would hold him and if he fussed Max would move in the womb, and when they were both here safe and sound we would put them together and they would instantly cuddle up hold hands.We are sure to tease them about this later in life.
I think I’ll keep him.
Something happened at the beginning of this month that caused me great joy. I’m pretty sure my husband was going to call the loony bin from the way I’d been moping about since we left L.A. and he’s tired of hearing me say dramatically “I miss my frieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeends“. But then, out of nowhere…my friend W moved here! I KNOW, RIGHT??? Now I’m pretty sure the husband is going to call the loony bin from the way I randomly squeak “I’ve got a friend!” at inappropriate times. And even better? My friend has kids. Two, effing cool, cute as a button kids. A daughter who is exactly one year older than Baby Max and a son who is 21 months older than her daughter. Cool kids, and they are so good with Baby Max, letting him use their toys and teaching them how to do things like dance and crawl through tunnels! He loves Little Girl, but Little Boy? He is obsessed with! It’s fascinating to see him at such a young age already know which one he is, and which one to emulate. And whatever Little Boy does? Max is desperate to try it too. I’m certainly that he will walk in the next week because he wants to go where Little Boy goes.
Apparently I’m not the only one…
Last night after a marathon bedtime routine with the little one we headed out to see Bruno. I admit that while Borat offended the heck out of me I did laugh hard enough that my belly hurt so while its not really my ‘thing’ per se I happily went with Zach to see it. Knowing he would take me to Harry Potter to even the score.
I wonder how long it will be before I stop sneaking in at night.
I can’t help myself. It’s an addiction. There are so many nights I am so tired and think “I can’t wait for him to go to sleep” and sure enough 20 minutes after he’s asleep in his crib and I’ve had a breath I just miss him. I sneak in and lean over him and take one more breath of that sweet, clean baby smell. I smooth his soft duckie fuzz hair and rest my hand on his back to check his breath even though I see his ribs rising and falling and I hear the sweet little sleep nursing noises.