summer sweater

farms & fizzy water

2011-09-18T19:34:00.000-07:00

So, obviously I'm not doing a very good job of keeping up here. I'll stop with the apologies (is anyone even still here to read them?), because let's face it: I'll probably just pop by to post whenever I have a spare few moments I don't instead spend at work, with Chris & Ru, petting a cat, with my nose in a book/Kindle, or just sitting on the couch, slackjawed and watching whatever fall shows catch my eye (hooray for the return of Parks & Rec this week!).

We've been keeping busy. August saw Chris turn 36, so for one gorgeous month we were the same (old) age. We traveled to Vermont last weekend to celebrate several family birthdays. The highlight for Ruby was a trip to Shelburne Farm, which -- I have to admit -- made our own beloved petting zoo feel a bit rinky-dink in comparison. The highlight for *me* was getting to go directly into the chicken coop and hang with our feathered friends without being separated by a cage or fence. A little boy who was already in the coop handed me a chicken as soon as I walked in, so I was pretty much an instant Chicken Whisperer. Ruby got bored sort of quickly, but I think that coop was one of my happy places. Not sure what that says about me, but there you go.

Here are some pics from our afternoon:

I turned 37 this weekend and celebrated by recovering from a weeklong bout of stomach flu. Even with that obstacle, it was a nice couple of days, and Chris & Ru made it special for me. Ruby continues to blow my mind, and I'm a little hesitant for her to grow up past this point, because selfishly I'm just plain loving this age. Her vocabulary grows daily, she's affectionate and funny and wildly smart, and my little butt-scooter is now barreling around the house/playground/wherever. She's the best thing.

Also, my mom sent me a SodaStream for my birthday, so I can now commence achieving my dream of being powered by 90% seltzer, 10% blood. It's good to have goals...

the long road to belfast

2011-08-07T11:11:00.001-07:00

Doesn't the title of this post sound like a Chieftains song? Maybe it is -- I don't know. But in this case, it refers to the stretch of asphalt between Liberty and Belfast, Maine, a road we traveled many, many times this past week on our vacation. Our third annual trip to Lake St. George with Doug and Roz was just what the doctor ordered: great friends, good food (pie from Moody's! cookies from Chase's Daily! lobstah rolls and fries, oh my!), sleep (well, sort of...Ru slept well, but she shared a room with me and Chris, which meant *we* didn't always sleep so soundly), kayaking, catching up on books and magazines, exploring the mid-coast, and the annual tradition of terrible movie viewing from the house's on-site collection (this year's pick: Shall We Dance?). Despite a shortage of iced coffee -- a terrible ordeal for an addict like myself -- it was a really lovely trip, and I was genuinely sad to see it come to a close. Still, it's nice to see the kitties again and to be back in our home. Just wish Doug and Roz (and Chase's Daily) were much, MUCH closer to Portland, Maine.

Some pics from our week "at camp":

Technically this one's pre-vacation -- Lulu was pretty opposed to our packing and leaving. We missed that big girl (and Little Millie!) like crazy. Except for the early morning wake-up calls.

Ru was full of surprises on this trip, and several were food related. She was, for the first time, excited about fruit (!) and voluntarily ate (or at least tried) strawberries and apples on a semi-regular basis. And probably as a result of Doug's gastro-influence, she was super excited about pickles from Morse's. So good to see her trying new things...here's hoping it sticks.

Ruby with her two new favorite people. Now that we're back home, she keeps asking to see pictures of "Woz" (Roz) on the camera. *sniff*

We spent a fair amount of time on this stretch of rocky beach at the Belfast City Park, so Ru could throw rocks into the water over and over. Also: tummy!

She's not quite ready for kayaking on the lake, but it's pretty safe to try on the lawn. Here, Ru and Chris practice their rowing techniques.

Our vacation coincided with the Lobster Fest in Rockland, so we went to check it out again this year. This picture ain't my best (what's my hair doing? why do I never know this?), but it's the only one I've got of me on this camera -- and I want to assure you that I was, indeed, there.

This sign made me cry a little. S-U-N-D-A-E. Although I guess a Sunday full of hot fudge doesn't sound so bad.

We took a trip to visit the alpacas at Good Karma Farm in Belfast, and -- as you can see -- Ruby was a big hit with the locals. She was pretty fearless when they all gathered around her; she just kept offering up grass and sticks, though there were no takers (but one kept looking like he wanted to eat the hat right off her head).

Cutiepants.

A kayak full of favorites.

We may have outgrown the lake house this year -- still trying to figure out our plans for next year's "camp" trip -- but we've got such great memories to take with us. Also, thanks to all those cookies and pies, a few extra pounds. Totally worth it.

***
Edited to add the "farewell" group shot Ro just sent me -- hope she doesn't mind! One of my favorite traditions, even though it sometimes feels a bit rushed as we try to get out of the house by the 10a.m. checkout time...

walk outside, it's the fourth of july

2011-07-01T11:04:00.000-07:00

Odds and frazzled ends:

The woodchucks are out in FORCE this summer -- I haven't seen this many since the first month or so we lived here. We've got a family of them living under the hot tub, and they've clearly decided that we're not scary humans. I was in the backyard the other day, and one of the parents and a baby chuck saw me but made *zero* attempt to be stealth in their comings and goings. As long as they don't make an appearance IN the hot tub, we're good.

I caught a showing of Midnight in Paris this week, and it was a total delight. I love Annie Hall, but besides that I can't call myself a rabid devotee of Woody Allen's oeuvre (I have always wanted to use that word...one more item to check off the ol' bucket list). Still, this one was so charming. Also: hot Hemingway.

The cats are continuing their feline integration process, and things seem to be moving along just fine. For the most part they peacefully coexist, and Millie's pretty much moved upstairs for good now (the first week or so, she hid in the basement whenever Ru was home). I do, however, have a sneaking suspicion Millie sometimes follows Lulu downstairs when she goes to use the litter boxes -- I caught her doing this once, and another time Lulu came barreling up the stairs with Millie hot on her trail. I'm keeping a close eye on this, since we learned from Dr. Google when Stewie was spraying that it's very important for each cat in a multi-cat household to be able to eat their food and use the litter box in peace. Also, Lulu's such a sweetie that I want to make sure she's not being bullied. Still, we're 90% there, I think. Now I just have to convince Millie to sit in my lap and sleep at my feet like I had planned for us (and explained to her in clear terms when I brought her home). Keep up your end of this bargain, Millicent!

It's Americuh's birthday this weekend, and I'll be celebrating with a visit from Chris's parents, some grilled meats, and hopefully some gym time. Earlier this week I joined a local gym -- my first in Maine! -- and have already come up with three different excuses for why I was unable to make it there all week. Here's hoping I didn't just throw $40 a month right out the window.

So, happy long weekend to you and yours. And remember: even those puny sparklers can blind a person if held incorrectly. Be bold but careful.

P.S. I started writing this on Friday and am just now getting around to posting. Sorry for the laziness. So American of me on this most patriotic of days! Anyway, it was a full weekend, and there were indeed grilled meats, gym visits (plural, hot damn!), drinks with lovely & amazing friends, and animal petting galore (both our own and those who live at the petting zoo). And now to drink some wine, watch a movie, and perhaps hear the fireworks off in the distance...

P.P. S. Gratuitous pic of my awesome kid:

a hat for every occasion

2011-06-19T18:17:00.000-07:00

My child is obsessed with hats. Indoors or outside -- it doesn't really matter. Thanks to generous family and friends, and their kids' ever-growing noggins, Ruby has a lot of hats to choose from. And she wears every. single. one.

By the way, if you aren't eating breakfast dressed like Ru here, I don't think you know what you're missing. (The plastic doughnuts as bracelets make the ensemble.)

In addition to hats, there's also been a lot of walking going on. Ruby is now up and about, and she gains speed and confidence daily. It's an awesome -- and mildly scary -- sight to behold.

What else? Oh! Meet Millie, our newest addition to the family. I found her at the HART shelter, of course -- one of my favorite places in Maine, and an all-around wonderful organization. June is adopt-a-shelter-cat month, and who am I to ignore the rules of theme months? Millie (formerly "Camilla") is an approximately 2.5-year-old dilute calico, and she's just an incredibly sweet animal. Some of her mannerisms remind me of Stewie -- in a good way -- and I hope she settles in nicely. She's a bit timid right now, and as you can imagine (or know all too well), a house with a toddler living in it is far from a peaceful, quiet oasis. But Millie's getting more comfortable by the day, and I think she may decide to keep us.

So pretty. She sort of looks like Lulu, doesn't she? Maybe I have a cat type and didn't know it? Speaking of Big Lu, she's greeted our new girl with an occasional growl but seems to be adjusting to no longer being the only feline game in town. They even band together in the mornings to whine for their breakfast. So...good for them?

She's keeping an eye on things, just in case.

Today we paid tribute to Chris in his role as dad -- he tells me it was a great Father's Day, and so I believe him, even though I got a bit cranky in the afternoon (even on days that are decidedly NOT ABOUT ME, I occasionally lose focus. Working on it...). It was the most perfectly perfect weekend weather, so we went to pet the animals at Smiling Hill Farm in Westbrook. A really lovely afternoon, goat-smell notwithstanding.

Ruby thought it was hysterical fun to pretend to get food pellets from these gumball-type machines and then wave her hand toward the animals while saying "yumyumyum" over and over, without actually moving from the food dispenser. She was feeding them the lazy way, I guess. I can relate.

Anyway, it was a fantastic Maine day, and I'm glad Chris enjoyed it. I'm pretty sure, and occasionally worried, that I don't tell him often enough how loved and appreciated he is, and how lucky Ru and I are to have him. Because we are.

Now if I could just get him to fill up that turtle sandbox in the yard, I feel certain his halo would arrive immediately...

don't you forget about me

2011-06-17T18:36:00.000-07:00

I know. It's been, what, a month or something? Ridiculous. I'm in the throes of blog-avoidance, I guess. The days have been a whirl of work and more work, a tiny person who can now walk all around the house and get up to no good at a much faster pace, and -- yay! -- a new cat named Millie (pics to come once she eases in a bit more...we're still pretty solidly in the hiding-under-the-bed phase).

Anyway, things will calm down, and I'll be back. So don't go deleting your bookmarks just yet, faithful readers (i.e., Mom). Soon it'll be hot, and I'll need a safe place to whine relentlessly about it.

xoxo

i'm not an addict, except when i am

2011-05-22T18:02:00.001-07:00

Oh man, I'm completely addicted to books right now. I mean, I kind of always am in some capacity -- my degrees are in English and writing, I work in book publishing, and books have generally been my go-to choice for downtime diversion (unless there's a Real Housewives marathon on, in which case all bets are off). But for the last three or four weeks, I've been tearing through them way faster than my usual 2-3 pages a night (I'm tired). In the "recently finished" pile: Just Kids, The Silent Land, Made for You and Me, and -- these are always in rotation -- a couple of nonfiction books about either child development or whatever my therapist has recommended to try and make me more fun to be around (let me know if they're working). Right now I'm nearing the end of Tina Fey's Bossypants, and it's delightful; several times I've shaken the bed with my attempt at quiet hysterical laughter while Boy Chris sleeps (or tries to -- pesky allergies!) next to me, hopefully unaware. Almost across the board, I've really liked everything I've been reading, though the author's voice in Made for You and Me sort of turned me off the story at times, and (I'm sorry to say, especially considering she's local) I often found her a smidge too entitled and lacking in self-awareness to be a great storyteller. It's a memoir, so a general warmth toward the author helps. Chris is reading the book now and has the same impression, but that could be because I poisoned his mind with my ideas before I passed the book over. Still, one vaguely irritating narration out of a handful of books ain't bad.

When I'm not reading voraciously and shirking my blogging responsibilities, I've been spending a lot of time walking Ruby around the house. It's just like the infant days, only now she's pacing the floor with us, on her own two feet! We're still holding one or both of her hands as she goes, depending on her confidence level, but she's getting much bolder about the whole walking thing. When she took 15 unassisted steps at physical therapy last week, her therapist was so pleased she immediately pronounced Ruby done with PT. So, with that behind us, we look ahead...to a future full of much more toddler-proofing than we've previously had to do. Bright side: fewer pairs of tiny pants with holes worn through the booty from all that scooting. (Note: take your Dramamine before clicking "Play" below; my stellar camera work is nauseous-making.)

not ready for her close-up

2011-05-10T18:55:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the radio silence, really I am. Just no time/energy for the blerging, I'm afraid, though I'll try to do better. (Don't hold your breath, though. I'm an unreliable narrator!) I don't even have cute kidlet photos to share...every time I pull out the camera, this happens:

Or this:

And here's a view I see a lot, as she gets used to standing up on her own (and, as of last week, taking steps! Mah girl, she can walk!):

Maybe not her best angle. But what does she care? She's too busy fielding phone calls, running a tiny toddler business across Ma Bell's wires:

She'll return your call when she gets a spare minute. Me? I'm not quite as excited about the phone, so I'll probably take even longer to get back to you. Sorry about that.

Yours in hermitude,
c.

always take the weather with you

2011-04-26T18:41:00.000-07:00

Things I like:

Just Kids by Patti Smith. I don't know how she manages to make name-dropping so insanely charming, but boy does she ever. This book is an absolute delight -- chock full of amazing memories of her life with Robert Mapplethorpe and the rest of the New York writers' & artists' scene. I'm going to be so sorry when it's done.
Iced coffee. It's not really warm enough yet (see "Things that don't thrill me"), but calendar-wise I feel like it's close enough.
Ruby's recent habit of standing up in the tub, unsupported and on her own (with my hands on either side of her, of course -- at the ready in case she should slip), at which point she gazes at her reflection in the hot and cold water handles and shouts "E-i-e-i-ooooo!" Hilarious. Also a little dangerous. But mostly charming.

Things that don't thrill me:

This depressing April weather. Late April, too, which is even crueler. I'm not a person who normally craves warmth and sunshine -- I usually do just fine in the colder climates (hence, Maine) -- but it's time to be able to leave the house without a thick coat. Monday I dared to wear some Dansko mary janes sans socks (so bold!), and by the time I got home my feet were nearly blue. Also wet, thanks to all the rain. Enough. Those of us with serotonin imbalances are hurting.
Ruby's new hitting phase. She's smacked both me and Chris (and Lulu, once. Poor Lulu.) several times in the past week or so, and it's tiresome. I know she's got an inkling of what "no" means, but beyond that it's awfully hard to reason with an 18-month-old about why hitting is unacceptable. We're trying, though. Tonight I asked Ruby several times if she could say she was sorry for hitting. Her answer? Big, round eyes and a definitive shake of her head: "No." So...at least she understands? Bright side.

Things I miss:

Stewie. I think most of you know this already, but we had to put the little man to sleep a week and a half ago after his latest round of urinary unblocking was too much for his body to handle. We had Stewie in our lives for seven years, and for several of those he was firmly in the center of our world. It's hard not to feel a little guilty about all the recent changes we put him through -- the move to Maine, followed fairly quickly by the addition of Lulu and then Ruby. Stewie hated change, I think it's safe to say, and he wasn't at his best the past few years. Still, he was always loved very much, and I deeply miss feeling his head on my arm at night while I sleep. Of course, he leaves a legacy that will take some time to erase: on humid days, the smell of his pee rises off the furniture and reminds us of his less-desirable traits. Man, that cat could be such a little weasel. But he was such a character, and he taught us boatloads about unconditional love. We'll never be able to replace Captain Furrypants.

tired eyes, big farts, some booze

2011-04-14T17:51:00.000-07:00

Oh, spring. Today was warm(ish) and sunny, and it was a total delight. Please, please come to stay soon.

Here's some recent doings:

Chris and I have been plowing through Season One of Friday Night Lights; we are deeply and happily ensconced in the lives of the Dillon Panthers and their families. I especially adore the awesomely feisty coach's wife and tough girl Tyra -- two of the best female characters on TV in a long time, in my opinion. Anyway, those of you who've seen the show know that the Panthers' motto is "Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose." The title of this post is our weeknight-on-the-couch version of that. Our family motto, if you will, presented with apologies.

Stewie spent Wednesday morning howling and copping a squat in front of me and Boy Chris, clearly signifying a problem we're (unfortunately) well acquainted with: a urinary blockage. This is not -- as you may be thinking -- the reason for his spraying hobby. Nope, they're two separate issues. We're just *that* lucky. The spraying is thought to be a mental thing; it's his tiny cat brain telling him he needs to mark his territory and protect it from what he perceives to be threatening stimuli. But the blockage is all physical, and all kinds of miserable for him. I'll spare you the gory details of how the vet unblocks a cat, but just know that it involves a delicately placed catheter. Yoinks. Anyway, Stew's been at the vet's office since yesterday morning and may get to come home tomorrow night, depending on his progress. I stopped by during my lunch break today to see the little patient and to remind him he's got a home full of furniture marked with his pee to come back to soon. As much as this cat drives me batshit crazy sometimes, I do love the furry little dude, and I really don't like to see him in so much misery. That said, Chris and I will likely have eyes as round and scared as Stewie's here when we get the final bill for this latest round of procedures. Gulp. (Note: his leg's at a funny angle here, isn't it? That's the result of surgery for a torn ACL back in 2006. Stewie's been costing us an arm and a leg [heh] for years now -- we like consistency in our pets.)

I am currently experiencing one of life's best problems: there's too much to read. I keep a list of books I want to read, and it's growing at a terrifying pace right now. At the very top is Tina Fey's Bossypants, but I'm trying to be a good egg and read the books I already have first. I'm currently co-reading Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself (so-so) and Patti Smith's Just Kids (loving it), and I recently tore through the Hunger Games trilogy (totally engrossing). I've also got a stack of parenting books next to my bed, collecting dust and making me feel guilty for choosing fiction and memoir over them every night. But anyway, like I really need any tips on raising a child. Ruby calls glasses of wine "mama" and thinks it's hilarious to pull Lulu's tail after we tell her no repeatedly. I've got this totally under control.

Speaking of my cutie pie, she's growing like a weed. A crazy-haired weed who often speaks in tongues and thinks most fruits and vegetables belong on the floor rather than on her high-chair tray or, god forbid, in her stomach. Fortunately, she's also insanely cute and really freaking funny. Her newest trick is to position herself so her booty is right in front of her toy piano or drum machine (we call this move the "back that thing up") and then get up on her hands and feet and move backward until she's sitting on said piece of musical equipment. Here she is today, hanging out on the drums:

One of her other favorite things, now that she's figured out how to get from laying down to sitting up by herself, is the "Night, Night...Good Morning!" game. She lays down on the ground and we say "night, night" until she springs up into a Cobra pose (yoga; Google it) and then moves into a seated position, exclaiming "good morning" while she does so. It's more fun than a barrel of monkeys.

I mean, really. How cute is that "night, night" face? Here's hoping she keeps smiling even when we tell her we spent her college fund on Stewie's pee-pee maker.

they shrank in the wash

2011-03-31T18:21:00.000-07:00

Now that Ruby's almost 17 months old, I'm not breastfeeding her very often. I still rely on the boobs ("Old Faithfuls") in the morning and at night, but Ru's on cow's milk at day care and only gets daytime feedings on weekends and Thursdays (when we're home together all day). I'm a little sad to be winding down, and I'm certain I'll be sort of bereft when we're done altogether, but I'm not sad to be getting my body back. By which I mean: back to me, not back the way it was. Because, in all honesty, I'm not too fond of this body at the moment.

It's something you hear a lot while pregnant (and before, and after) -- that a woman's body is never quite the same after she has a baby. The changes may be imperceptible to others, but there will be changes, and they may be permanent. Early on, breastfeeding helped me shed the pregnancy weight, and quicker than I even expected. I won't lie: that was a delight, and trust me that in the early weeks of motherhood I was clinging to pieces of delight in any form I could find them. By the time I returned to work I was back in my work clothes, and they were even a little spacious. Ruby was an enthusiastic nurser from the start, so I didn't worry too much about stocking my snack drawer with dark chocolate peanut M&Ms and Goldfish crackers -- they'd just be sucked out of me later, anyway. I certainly would've breastfed even if it meant gaining weight (which, from what I understand, is well within the realm of possibility), but the benefit of not having to worry too much about watching my weight in those early months definitely fell into the plus column for me.

So, anyway. As the nursing is slowing down, I find that my weight is inching up. Not that much, honestly -- my husband, who is required by law to say as much, swears he sees no difference. And my current weight is pretty close to where I was when I got pregnant, so I can't realistically hark back to my glorious "pre-baby weight," you know? But I feel the few extra pounds acutely, and they chip away at my self-confidence in irritating ways. When my jeans feel tighter, as they have the past few weeks, it's easier for me to find fault in all sorts of other areas as well. And I can self-flagellate with the best of them: I'm not exercising enough because I'm lazy or unmotivated or bad at time management. I make bad food choices because I'm a glutton who has no will power. See what I'm talking about? Those tight jeans take my self-esteem on a downward spiral faster than you can say "Eff you, skinny Jennifer Hudson" (I *guarantee* you she would cut someone for a tiny sliver of cake right about now). My default reaction is to wear shirts shaped like pup tents and always -- ALWAYS -- try to avoid any seated position that encourages the muffin top to reveal itself.

I've never been tiny by anyone's standards -- I've been squarely in the size 8/10 camp for as far back as I can recall. But each of us knows our body better than anyone else, and I cannot *stand* that feeling when things start to get tight, or when thighs begin to rub together in places where there used to be gaps. I DO need to eat better most of the time, and I COULD use more exercise. These things are true. On a good week, I eke out 10 miles (max) of slow running on the treadmill. And my preferred version of salad is mostly meat and cheese with a few leaves of spinach thrown in for color. There is room for improvement, for sure. But I also hope to stop being so hard on myself, because I often think that's doing far more damage than a few extra pounds on my frame. I've got a husband, a toddler, two high-maintenance cats, a full-time job, friends, a social life (hallelujah), and infrequent hobbies. These things take time, and sometimes I need to be reminded of all the juggling going on each and every day. I've got a lot of balls in the air (oh hush), so if every third or fourth one is a Hostess Sno Ball,** so be it.

And anyway, I know what this belly has been through -- the absurd stretching it survived, and the person it shielded and grew. All the post-pregnancy changes -- both physical and mental -- have been worth it and then some, of course. But I'm only mildly embarrassed to admit that sometimes I wouldn't mind being one of those mamas with toned abs and skinny jeans. Though, let's face it, I bet they're dumb as a bag of rocks.***

**I don't actually eat those.

***No offense to any toned-ab, skinny-jeaned mamas reading this. I'm sure you're brilliant. Let's not be friends, though.

i ran so far away

2011-03-23T17:56:00.000-07:00

Ruby came home from daycare today with two ponytails, but within an hour or so she'd removed the tiny elastics. Unfortunately, her hair didn't get the message and stayed vertical:

Chris said she reminded him of that freakazoid from The Prodigy:

But my mind went to the glorious Flock of Seagulls:

*****

My little pumpkin has turned a corner in the past week or so, as far as her standing goes. She's been pulling up to a stand on anything remotely stable enough to hold her weight, and often she'll say "Big girl!" over and over as she does so. Turns out they use that term to encourage her to stand at daycare, and I'm pretty sure Chris and I have said the same thing to her more than once or twice. And it's true, because she's getting to be a bigger girl every day. Check her out standing in the crib, surveying all that she presides over:

In that second shot, can't you see her pulling the exact same pose 18 years from now, standing on some hotel balcony at Spring Break, casting a judgmental gaze on the riffraff below? Yeah, me either. But if she does, I hope she's wearing a shirt that covers more of her tummy. (On that note, please know that her ensemble here was an unfortunate accident. She had a superpoop at daycare and needed to be changed, and the only shirt in her bag was this one, which is clearly too small. In my defense, it's been a long time since my girl has pooped through her clothes and needed a replacement outfit, so I haven't been too vigilant about checking the sizes of the clothes in her schoolbag. The pants, though? I'm 99% certain those aren't even hers. I hope whichever toddler these too-big pants actually belong to is enjoying the UMass socks of Ruby's that never made it home a couple weeks ago. Fair is fair.)

*****

What else? Let's see. Ru is all about the smooching right now. It's Beso Central around here these days, and that's a pretty awesome place to be. Here she is, laying one on "Dolly" at breakfast:

Have I mentioned that I love the kissing stage? It's almost too cute to bear. Chris and I keep saying that we're really enjoying this age -- Ru's a real pleasure a lot of the time, and it blows my mind to see what she learns and picks up every day. She has a book about pets called Tails Are Not for Pulling, and it's one we've read to her so often she can pretty much "read" it to us now. Anyway, the last page of the book is really text-heavy and clearly for the adults (the heading on the page is "Tips for Parents and Caregivers"), so whenever we get to that page I do my Charlie Brown adult voice impression -- you know, that weird, muffled trumpet sound -- and say "blah BLAH blah blah, BLAH blah blah." So tonight, when Ru was reading the book to her "babies" (a random assortment of stuffed animals), she finished the book by chirping "blah blah blah" and then slammed it shut. I've taught her so well, you guys. She clearly respects the written word in all its forms.

*****

Uh, I intended to write about some non-kid stuff tonight too, I swear I did. But now I'm just too tired to think of what else is occupying my brain space this week. I'm sure it would have been fascinating and probably would've included some of the following topics: Friday Night Lights viewings (um, totally understanding the Tim Riggins lurve now); Jeff Tweedy date night with my main squeeze and some good pals of ours this weekend; Stewie peeing on heretofore un-peed-on parts of our house and my subsequent (mean-spirited and mostly fleeting) wish that Stewie would accidentally escape; lovely and amazing friends who make life better; signing up for swim classes and hoping for spring weather; and the frighteningly awesome Christian Bale in The Fighter. I'll try to get around to talking about all of these at some point. But in the meantime, here's yet another pic of my brown-eyed baby girl. xoxoxo

wiggle wiggle wiggle, stop!

2011-03-13T18:08:00.000-07:00

Oh my. I've been neglecting everything -- this blog, my (dirty) house in (desperate) need of cleaning (by my husband), and -- not least -- my role as historian of Ruby's early childhood. To easy my conscience, at least as far as the last thing goes, here are some recent pics.

The hair bling continues, though with less frequency. We think the woman at daycare who does most of the fancy ponytails has been on vacation. We miss her. (My look of intense concentration below is because I'm reading Red Truck to Ruby. It's a real page-turner.) (Note: I just noticed that it looks like red berries are growing out of Ru's head here. Just wanted to point out that she's rocking a simple ponytail; the berries are in a vase behind us -- we're not quite that fancy w/the hair...)

Somebody sure digs her dad (note the common theme of fingers shoved in Ru's mouth...we had a long bout of teething in February):

Cute face. More teething.

This is an awful lot of (mostly pink) boots for a child who wears shoes about, oh, once a month. I have no excuse. EXCEPT that I only bought half of the pairs shown here.

Speaking of awesome hand-me-downs, Ru got another delivery of outgrown clothes from her friend Q. I swear my kid is in here somewhere:

About to brave the cold outdoors with Boy Chris...

...and, afterward, having reached the same unfortunate conclusion the rest of us try to make peace with all month long: dressing for March in Maine just sucks.

Other random stuff:

I stayed up past my bedtime last week to go see this band with some friends, and if you haven't heard/seen them before, I highly recommend taking a few minutes of your time to do so. The band members took turns playing a bunch of different (and often pretty old) instruments, and their harmonies -- when heard in person, in a great (small!) venue -- were unreal. Just lovely, lovely stuff.
Chris, Ru, and I spent a good chunk of last weekend at a fabulous house in the White Mountains, NH, hanging out with some friends we don't get to see often (and a couple we see all the time, lucky us). It was so great to see everybody in one place, along with their children/toddlers/babies/pregnant bellies. It was a lot like the Big Chill, but with more YouTube and sippy cups. While we were there, Chris and his friend Mike ended their ten-year fast-food boycott by taking their respective offspring to McDonald's. Ruby came home with the world's scariest "doll" from a Happy Meal. I think it's safe to say these meals won't be a regular habit for us, but it's nice to know we're no longer prohibited from enjoying the occasional McRib (eww).
I've been banned from attending physical therapy with Ruby. Or, not banned so much as politely asked to stay away. Okay, not even that. The truth is that Ru seems to do a LOT better on the visits when Chris takes her than when I do (we alternate weeks). I started to wonder about this when it became apparent that Ruby was spending at least half of her therapy visits either clinging to me, crying near me, or scooting in a two-foot-radius of my person. Something about mama being there keeps her from being a brave little soldier, I'm afraid. With her dad, she's a little less clingy and therefore better about taking risks and branching out. So her therapist suggested to Chris last week that perhaps he could try to accompany her more often, and I couldn't support this idea any more if I tried. It's been frustrating to think we're not making much progress, and I think it'll improve if I'm not such a big part of the equation. At least, this is what I'm telling myself. I'm nearly certain my banning has nothing to do with my asking the therapist if I could drink my thermos of Shiraz in her office last week. (No judgment -- it was noon!)*
The title of this post is from a Yo Gabba Gabba song that Ruby LOVES. Tonight when we were getting her ready for bed, she kept singing "wiggle wiggle wiggle!" and doing funny hand movements. She was such great company this weekend, and I think the feeling was mutual. I'm sort of dreading daycare drop-off tomorrow, to tell the truth. But at least I'll have this sweet picture to look at when I'm at work this week. This was taken Saturday morning at Charlie's Diner, while Ruby kept busy stacking the creamers. Would you look at that curly (and, okay, not-often-brushed) hair? My own mane was a bitch and a half until I was about 18 years old and it finally calmed down, and I wouldn't wish the frizzy angst it caused me on my daughter for anything. But selfishly, I do hope these sweet curls stick around for a while...

* I assure you, I did no such thing. It was pinot.**
**Another lie.

red carpet bagger

2011-02-28T18:42:00.000-08:00

I'm getting a cold or a bug of some kind for, oh, the 37th time this winter (TIRED OF YOU WINTER), so this'll be short. Just wanted to weigh in on the Oscars briefly. Judging from the Internets, a lot of folks found this year's show boring/weird/too long and ridiculous to watch. I don't know -- I'm a pretty avid awards show viewer, but aren't they *always* a bit dull and weird and ridiculous? The Oscars are all about Hollywood congratulating itself...I try not to tune in with any expectations beyond hopefully ogling some pretty frocks and crazy hair-dont's; it's like a bonus (especially these days) if I've actually seen any of the movies in the big categories. This year I'd seen The Social Network, 127 Hours, and...is that it? That might have been it. I'm sure you're dying to know what I thought of Franco's hosting duties, and on this I agree with the majority of the viewing public: he was a bit lackluster, perhaps overly tired (does he even GET tired? he must get tired), perhaps a smidge under the influence. Not exactly there, really. But while he phoned it in, Anne Hathaway giggled and shouted and, by the end of the broadcast, made me even less likely to see her next project. Dial it down, Annie. She made my mom look depressed. (My mama reads this, and she's well aware I think she's the upbeatest of all the upbeat. I'm her little dark cloud. :)

So yeah, the dresses. Here are the three I liked most:

This was the only gown that made me exclaim out loud when I saw it on my TV. It's probably a bit on the unexciting side, but I just love it. The black and white, with her high ponytail -- love it.

Scarlett and Mila were a distant second and third, but I love the colors of both of these, and Scarlett's in particular just looked so striking when she was onstage. I so wish Mila's dress didn't have the weird boob inserts, but at this point it almost seems like designers feel compelled to take otherwise gorgeous dresses and add one bizarre element to ugly them up. But what do I know? As I type this, I might be wearing a leopard-print Snuggie.

and the winner is

2011-02-24T17:36:00.000-08:00

For a short month, February sure can drag on. This is the time when winter feels just plain endless. Here are some things that are keeping it interesting:

Shows! Coming to Portland! I've got tickets to see the Low Anthem and Jeff Tweedy already, and tomorrow I hope to procure Avett Brothers tickets as well. There's been a bit of a dry spell in good shows -- at least as far as my personal taste goes -- so it's nice to have a few nights out already lined up. Although none of these is likely to blow the door off the joint, decibel-wise, I'll dust off my earplugs all the same. Safety first.
The Oscars are in just three days. I saw 127 Hours a few weeks ago, and holy cannoli -- I know Colin Firth's the front-runner for Best Actor (still haven't seen The King's Speech...boo), but honestly I think Franco just *nailed* this role. So, so good. I liked the movie WAY more than I expected to.
I am almost done with the unpleasant, two-part mole removal on my poor, beleaguered ear. Two surgeries down, and only the suture removal to go. The world's worst nurse botched the suture removal last time around, so I had to tweeze some of them out my damn self. That was a fun time. Here's hoping she has more luck with round two. Either way, I look forward to not visiting the dermatologist's office until my next skin check at the very end of the year. And also to seeing how my ear recovers. Boy Chris has already promised to continue loving me even if I lose the whole ear. I should probably get that in writing.
We've been taking Ruby to Peekaboo Center (a children's "playspace") every once in a while, so she can get out of the house and scoot around a new environment. At one of these visits, there was a nutbag (don't ask me how I knew; I just did) with her son playing nearby. I noticed her watching Ruby do her usual butt-scoot across the floor, and at some point we made eye contact. (Note to self: NEVER MAKE THE EYE CONTACT.) Nutbag said something about how fast Ruby could scoot and followed it up with, "When I first saw your daughter, from behind, her legs were folded so tight it looked like they'd been amputated below the knee! I'm glad I was wrong, and that she's not handicapped!" Um. You and me both? You guys, sometimes I don't think I have the fortitude to be around other human beings.
Speaking of the Ru, her PT is going fine, if a bit slow, although that may just be my own nervous tendencies talking. She's almost 16 months old and bearing some weight on her legs, but I'd venture to guess we're still quite a ways off from walking. And when we're around other kids her age who are literally running laps around my sweet little scooter, it can launch my brain into a worry spiral. I'm working on it, I swear. I really don't want to look back on this time with any regret, feeling like I worried my way past all the good stuff. So I'm trying to slow it all down and accept that I simply can't control everything. More than that, I don't want to give my kid even the teeniest tiniest feeling that I don't believe in her. The concern is all mine, but my pride in who she is totally overrides it.
Today's point of pride: I taught her to say "All riiiiight!" She hasn't yet mastered the Matthew McConaughey delivery I was going for, but she's really close.
My pants, they are tight. I'd like to blame this on the dryer, but that would be unfair. What *would* be fair is blaming winter (stuck inside!), colds and ear surgeries and recurring stomach bugs (keeping me from exercising!), and also maybe my deep and abiding love for cheese, bread, peanut butter, and salt & pepper potato chips (but not all at the same time, of course. Of course!). Some days I'm all, "Oh god, I need to do something about this IMMEDIATELY." Other days, I'm more like, "Eh. I'll worry about it in a few months, when I put the baggy sweaters away. Pass the queso." I had three cookies today, so I'll let you decide which of those two kinds of days I'm having.
I'm three episodes into Friday Night Lights, at the recommendation of, oh, everyone, and I'm liking it much more this time around (I tried to watch it a few years ago). I absolutely love Netflix's Watch Instantly option (via the Wii), and knowing I've got all those episodes still to go is like a present I'm waiting to open. This'll certainly help me get through the rest of the winter. (I realize that spring officially starts -- in some places -- in a few short weeks, but Portland, Maine, is just not one of those places. Sigh.)

red letter day

2011-02-10T18:21:00.000-08:00

Just have to post quickly to brag about my little person's awesome day at physical therapy. Girlfriend came home with this today:

Her first award! She got this for standing up (with one hand holding onto the side of a big chair/bed thing) for 20 minutes. And from what I hear (it was Boy Chris's turn to take her to PT today), she didn't cry once! That's not written on the certificate, but it probably should be. These are big steps (no pun intended). Turns out Chris may not have to carry her to her college classes after all. *sniff*

And here's the accomplished cutiepants herself:

She probably has no idea how well she did today. Lucky for her (?), she's got a mama with an archival streak a mile wide when it comes to these early memories. That certificate will outlive us all.

good night, baby ruby

2011-02-06T18:28:00.000-08:00

We are in the throes of some teething-related fussiness of the highest order around here, so forgive me if this post doesn't make much sense. Ruby kept us up until midnight last night and then woke up for the day a little before 6am, and that just wasn't enough sleep for this old lady. Also I'm typing this with a belly full of queso dip (mmm, Velveeta), which I'm both delighted and ashamed to report is what passed as "dinner" at our house tonight. We're the healthiest. But the Super Bowl is on, so it's acceptable fare (America!), and I'm trying to look up every few minutes to catch any funny commercials and/or grown people wearing foam cheese on their heads. I'm distracted, is what I'm saying.

Anyway, yes...teething. It's so unpleasant. For the past week or so, my child's mood has been dictated by the whims of her budding little teeth, and so she careens back and forth between happy and miserable within, like, seconds of each other. One minute she's all giggles and smiles; I turn my back for a millisecond, and she busts out a primal scream because HOW DARE I TURN AWAY? It's the season of clingy-ness and high emotion, I guess. On one hand, it's nice to be so wanted -- mostly it's because I am the keeper of the boobs, but still. I don't really mind being the apple of my baby girl's eye, you know? I just wish we could lose the manic mood swings and whining that come with the teeth. Ah, well. The highs are high, and the lows are low. This isn't news to anybody.

When we're not throwing Baby Ibuprofen in her general direction and ducking for cover, things are moving along as usual here. Behold, Chris and his fan club, both human and feline:

Ruby's latest ride (a Christmas gift from her Aunt Lauren):

Proving once again that she is definitely my child, Ru loooooooves the mashed potatoes. Self-feeding = a dinnertime party:

Hanging onto the bookshelf's pretty fun too...

I love this face so much.

We think she gets a little confused when we read her Good Night, Baby Ruby (she looks at us like, why are you saying my name but looking at the pages?), but she chooses this book ALL the time. Thanks to her friend Anca for the thoughtful gift!

So Good Night, Internets. The football game's awfully close, and still I can't be bothered to see it through to the end. What can I say? Turns out I was just in it for the yearly excuse to eat Velveeta.

never too early...

2011-01-27T12:57:00.000-08:00

...to get a head-start on learning about spousal responsibility (that's How to Be a Good Husband she's reading with her meal):

What else? I don't know...more snow? Yep. Lots of it. I'm starting to feel lumpy and lethargic, though I know it's way too early in the season to be wishing for green grass and the ability to step outside without at least one down/flannel/fleece product on my body. I'll just have to grin (ha!) and bear it.

I was going to blerg a list of things I'm looking forward to, things that are keeping me slogging through the short winter days and grey-white landscape. And then I realized that the list I was composing in my head was stupidly short. I mentioned my January slump, yes? Still in it. Still not exactly grasping at all life has to offer, you know what I mean? More like muddling. But all is not a bummer. Here are some things that have brought me joy lately:

My delightful kid. I was lying on the floor earlier today, watching her "read" old birthday cards to herself and listening to her babble, marveling at the way her vocabulary is growing in leaps and bounds these days. It's pretty wild stuff to see another human being get the hang of language, isn't it? One of my favorite things, and a definite reason to get out of bed each day.

The return of Parks and Rec and new episodes of 30 Rock. Must-See TV? I don't know about that, but both make me laugh out loud.

Gift certificates I got for Christmas. These just feel like an unwrapped gift I know I'll like. I love thinking about when and how to use them. And then not using them. Yet.

My mole biopsy came back as atypical, not cancerous. I have to go back and have more removed, to be on the safe side, but that's small potatoes. Not fun, but small potatoes. Phew.

I stopped pumping breast milk at work, which has made me happy in a multitude of ways. I get to stop watching the clock (and, quite frankly, feeling myself up) all day, counting down to the next pumping session. I have more time to get stuff done. And, best of all, I no longer have to schlep the pump and all its effing pieces/parts/accessories to and from my parking spot (note: not close to my office) every day. This is *glorious.* I honestly think I was starting to lean to one side from the big bag o' heavy stuff I always had on me. Pumping was a means to an end for me, as a mama with a job outside the home, and as such I'm really thankful that this sort of contraption exists, no matter how mechanical or unwieldy or inconvenient it may be. Still: glad to be done with it.

Awards season! I watched the Golden Globes (Team Ricky!) and was generally underwhelmed by the dresses, but I'm holding out hope that the Oscars deliver this year. My well-documented professional respect (ahem) for co-host James Franco probably won't hurt. I've seen somewhere between a third to a half of the films that are up for big awards, I'd say, but I hope to sneak in at least a couple more viewings before the show -- I'd really love to see The Social Network and The King's Speech sooner rather than later. In the meantime, here were my favorite G. Globes looks:

Scarlett's was my favorite of the night, though I just can't get behind that hair. Sometimes I wonder if famous people purposely try to ruin an otherwise good look by tossing in something ridiculous. I'm probably (definitely) giving this too much thought.

I don't actually know who this next young woman is, but I applaud her lovely dress and hair. Also the clutch, which I want very much, and her necklace. All of it.

And just so you don't think I only like cream-colored, taupe-y dresses, here's Angela Chase (forever, to me) wearing a fabulous pink color. She has the perfect body for this, by which I mean one that is refreshingly unenhanced by any sort of, um, Hollywood enhancement procedures. Proud of you, Angela.

Speaking of unenhanced, I too am all-natural. These love handles are organic and of my VERY own making, so pardon me while I go run for a bit and try to convince them to head elsewhere. Spring's on the way, I hear, and bikini season** can't be far behind.

**Never in a million years. Not even for those two brief months in 1996 when I maybe could have pulled it off.

baby new year

2011-01-20T15:50:00.000-08:00

Where've I been? I wish I knew. Working, baby raising, page turning, channel surfing. These things take time! It's also 98% likely that I've hit my usual January slump. Is this anybody's favorite time of year? It's a tough month, I think. I'm just keeping my head down and watching my boots move forward along with the rest of the world.

We got a new camera for X-Mas (Note to parents of small people: not a good idea to let them chew on digital cameras! Now I know.), and it's doing a fine job so far. Here's some of what we've been up to during the past few weeks:

1. Reading the New Yorker, like we do. In the interest of balance, we let Ru leaf through the Us Weekly issues on weekends.

2. We took down Christmas, but not before I got this picture of our cat-proof tree in the great room. Ruby ignored the tree completely; Stewie, unfortunately, did not. Hence, the attractive gate. Still, I really like this shot:

3. Took a brief trip to the Peekaboo Center so Ru could scoot around somewhere new for a change. She looked so tiny there! We shadowed her the whole time, so if any talent scouts were scoping out the room looking for the cutest babies in Maine, they'd know who to ask about her fees:

4. Crying while eating. It happens to all of us eventually:

5. Can you spot the cat in this picture? You'll have to work a little harder than usual, since it's not scratch & sniff.

6. Dreaming of crawling?

7. We finally made it to Vermont for Christmas #2 (heh heh) with Chris's patient family. Ruby and I coordinated our ensembles. On purpose, of course. Duh.

8. Just today, I made great strides with Operation: Get Shoes on My Kid. I snuck these sweet little booties on her while she ate, and she barely noticed. She tore one off in a fit of anger about 10 minutes later, when she noticed them on her piggies, but the other one lasted a good hour. This? Is progress.

9. Last but not least, would you look at this face?

I've obviously learned nothing about keeping my mouth shut so as not to tempt the universe, because I'm about to publicly announce that I'm really liking this age. Ru is chatty and amiable, and once we get her straight on the whole "mama/dada" distinction, we'll be in business. (At the moment, we both seem to be "dada.") She's strong-willed and funny, and even if she weren't mine I have a sneaking suspicion I'd like her a great deal. Well, as much as one can like a person who wants nothing more than to watch Mary Poppins videos on YouTube over and over and over again. We're working on that.

kicking santa's ass

2011-01-03T12:33:00.000-08:00

Oh, you guys. The end of 2010 was just such a royal pain, I can't even tell you. Although, if you've read any of my whiny missives on Facebook or Twitter, you probably have some idea. I don't suffer quietly.

Let me preface this with: I am so aware that, in the grand scheme of things, my problems are very, very minor. Just irritations, really. But they're MY irritations, and complaining is what the Internets are for, yes? (Don't tell me if I'm wrong.)

I should've been tipped off the Monday of Christmas week, which started with my annual skin check at the dermatologists. My people are moley, so I try to be good about these exams, even though I don't enjoy one second of them. Still: worth it if it catches something bad, right? On a serious note, an old friend passed away not too long ago from melanoma, and I keep this in mind when I "just don't feel like going" to this particular appointment. A sad motivation, but it works.

Anyway, all was routine except for a mole on the back of my ear that's changed in color and shape since I was last there. If you know your mole signs-of-trouble, and I do, you'll know that changes in color and shape are not good. They, of course, don't necessarily mean anything bad either, but try telling that to my brain, which can make the Himalayas out of the tiniest mole(ha!)hill. I was scheduled for a January surgery appointment to have it removed and biopsied. I've had moles lopped off before, but it's always been right then and there, in the office, and there's no talk of "presurgery procedures" and such, which I guess is why this one has me more nervous than usual? Probably nothing, of course, but I can't say it left me feeling super festive. Fingers crossed for an easy & clean removal in a couple weeks, at which point Boy Chris can remind me for the kajilliontieth time that I worry too much when I really don't need to.

So, that Friday (Christmas Eve), we drove to Boston and flew to DC to visit my family for the holidays. It was Ruby's very first plane ride, and the wee one was very well-behaved. The only part she really did not enjoy was the end of the flight, when you have to wait for everybody to file out of the plane before you can leave. Girlfriend was adorable at first, waving and saying "Bye!" to the earliest people to pass us; but once she realized we were letting everybody go before we tried to corral our 84 bags and coats and baby-distracting paraphernalia, she let us know how she felt. Loudly. The upside was hearing someone say, as they passed, "I didn't even know there was a baby on this flight!" Job well done, Team Us.

We were scheduled to be in Virginia for three days. You have to understand: I have a firm three-day limit when it comes to family visits. I just think this works best for everyone -- visitors and visitees alike. I don't want anyone to take this personally; I just get twitchy if I'm away from my regular life for too long. A lot of it is probably (certainly) a control thing. I have some particular issues in that area. So, when I caught the weather report for Portland before we left town, I tried not to assume the worst when I noticed some, uh, (capital-W) Weather was forecast for right around the time we'd be making our return trip. Chris assured me that it was too early for them to know anything, so I shouldn't worry. (But knowing what we know now, can we agree that I was right, in this case? And that the worry was warranted? Not helpful, mind you, but at least warranted? Credit where it's due!)

Good god, I'm rambling. I'll try to cut the rest of this a bit short, for everyone's sake. The aforementioned Weather was a blizzard that hit Boston and Portland hard, delaying our return by three days. So, doubling our time in Virginia, and exceeding my three-day limit by ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT. I'm sure you can imagine the grace with which I handled the situation. And here's where I say, again, that we were fortunate and I know it -- we were safely tucked away at my parents' house, with heat and food and wine, and not stranded in an airport terminal somewhere. I appreciate that, I promise I do. But remember the control issues? They don't do so well in situations like this. And did I mention the tired? Because, man, me and Chris were TIRED. Ohh, poor Boy Chris: in the midst of all the delays and the normal wear & tear of travel, he picked up the stomach flu (file this factoid away for later; it'll be back) and spent much of our trip in misery but hiding it well. Ruby took it all like a champ for the most part, except for when she didn't sleep. She gave us a couple OK nights, but the rest were "wake up every 1-2 hour" kind of nights, and those take a toll. Fast.

Anyway, all this is to say that, while my family's convincing poker faces ("We're not put out at all!") were appreciated, and a last-minute visit to a dear friend helped immensely, we really wanted to go home. A lot. We had already decided to postpone our second Christmas, which was to take place in Vermont with Chris's family over New Year's weekend, seeing as we'd just be getting home and couldn't bear the thought of heading right back out for another trip. We wanted to get back to Woodchuck Manor and unwind.

Three days later, and with a $144 Massport parking garage fee to pay, we made it back to Boston and on to Portland with relative ease. Once again, Ru was good on the flight, and we were so freaking excited about being able to spend New Year's Eve in our living room, with a fire in the wood stove and some champagne in our glasses. The morning of New Year's Eve, though, I woke up feeling a little funny and soon realized that the stomach flu had made the return trip with us. Short version: Chris spent nearly the entirety of the long weekend taking care of Ruby while I slept/moaned/visited the bathroom way too often for my liking and just generally felt sorry for myself.

Happy New Year!

So, whatever. Not quite the holidays I hoped for, but -- pardon my Grinchiness for, uh, all time -- when are they ever? There's so much buildup, and it makes it that much more disappointing when things go wrong. What would otherwise be the run-of-the-mill stomach flu becomes "the stomach flu that ruined New Year's Eve"; the annoying weather-related travel delays become the "Holiday Blizzard of 2010." I'm just glad the holidays are over and the year is behind us, so I can look ahead and try to get my attitude adjusted a bit for 2011. Don't expect any huge changes from me, of course. I don't do those. I'm also not big on resolutions these days, since they never ever work. So instead I'll just list some hopefully realistic goals I have for myself in the coming weeks/months/etc. Don't go stealing these from me once you see how awesome I become, OK?

1. Drive like a peaceful warrior. (Note: This will be MUCH easier once all the jackholes get off the road.)

2. Waste less time online. Life's short. Google less; be in the present more.

3. Try to unclench every once in a while. Let somebody else do it.
4. Persuade my child to wear shoes and brush her teeth every once in a while.
5. There was another one I thought of while trying to fall asleep last night, but I can't remember it. Feel free to insert your own suggestion for me here.

Today's already an improvement, and that's a good sign. After nearly four days, my stomach feels close to normal, and food sounds almost appealing again. Another minor health issue seems to be on the way out (let's just say that, during all of this, I also had some ladyparts problems to deal with ...try not to stand too close to me, in case the black cloud over my head splashes rain on you too). And we're all home. Chris is in the great room, reading books to Ruby while Stew and Lulu hover nearby just in case we forget when their dinnertime is. I'm grateful for this scene. And trying to learn to appreciate what it looks like even when I can't control ANY of it.

Happy New Year, you! Bottoms up...

the one in which...

2010-12-14T17:42:00.000-08:00

Ohmygod, if I thought the holidays were manic last year, I...well, I just didn't know. But busy is (mostly) good, and I'm finding time to squeeze in some holiday tunes and have even been watching the high-definition crackling Yule Log on one of our On Demand cable channels. Oh, modern world. You think of everything.

What I haven't had enough time for is watching my beloved holiday films. I'm a sucker for a good Christmas tale, and every year I like to watch all of the following at least once: It's a Wonderful Life; Elf; Love, Actually; National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Shrek the Halls (Oh, shut up. Have you seen this? It's fabulous!), and Prancer (I don't have any excuse for this one, except maybe nostalgia. And even that's a stretch.). So far I've half-watched Love, Actually while doing about twelve other things at the same time. And that's it. With just a week and a half to go before Christmas (!), I don't think I'll be catching all of these this year, though I'm taking some time off between Christmas and New Year's. With any luck, I'll be able to squirrel away some hours with the couch and the remote.

Anyway, I thought I'd take this opportunity to post some of our recent videos. As always, these come with a couple caveats -- 1) if you're not me, Boy Chris, or our parents, these will probably bore the pants off of you, and 2) my speaking/laughing voice is a thing of horror and shouldn't be unleashed on an unsuspecting world.

Onward.

1. For those who haven't seen Ruby's scooting in action, here's the kitchen-floor version. Watch her go!

2. Here's what happens when Ru gets hold of the camera (part I). I love this one because you can see her little feet in the bottom of the frame. Also: can we make a collective pact not to mention the fact that it looks like I'm rolling around in a pile of hay? That's unfortunately my hair.

3. Another piece of Ru's handiwork. This one I like because it feels sort of avant garde. My little Warhol.

4. And here's Boy Chris taking our girl on some loops around the house in her favorite thing ever, the wagon. In this one you get to see Ru's crazy bedhead at its finest, and you can hear her sweet little speaking voice (Jenny, if you listen carefully, you can hear her blabbing away as Chris pulls her through the kitchen):

I should get going...there's work to be done and delicious cinnamon rolls to be eaten (thank you, Jessica!!). I hope you're all writing down "Check out Shrek the Halls" in your planners as I type this. You won't be sorry.

a carousel of time: more photos

2010-12-08T18:07:00.000-08:00

I've been a little lazy about the photo posting, haven't I? I want to write quickly tonight, in case I still have the energy afterward to watch my DVRed episode of Inside the Actor's Studio w/guest (and my imaginary boyfriend) James Franco. So, in a move that will surely please the grandparents in the audience, here's a bunch of our (mostly Ru's) latest shenanigans:

One of her favorite things: playing with the cats' food bowls. As you can imagine, Stewie and Lulu just love this.

The family portrait Rosanne took of us at Thanksgiving:

Ruby showing off the farm that Aunt Ro and Uncle Doug brought her for her first birthday:

Stinkin' cute face, deep in thought:

Here, we were practicing saying "cheese" for the camera. I'm delighted to report that Ruby's a chatty little monkey these days. She says a lot of words with varying degrees of clarity (mostly "up," "down," "again," "dada," and "Yu-Yu" [for Lulu]), and it's sort of amazing to hear her vocabulary grow on a daily/weekly basis. The baby brain is a crazy, wondrous thing, isn't it?

And though her strengths at this point are more verbal than physical (where on earth could she get that?), she's working on her standing skillz as well. She is constitutionally unable to do this w/out repeating the aforementioned "up" and "down" over and over and over, which is terribly cute. Physical therapy continues to go well, and she sometimes even "practices" at home.

Last but not least, Ruby inherited a wagon from her friend Q recently, and holy cannoli, does she love this thing. Like, in an obsessive, "please pull me around the house all day, every day" kind of way. As I told Q's mama, I suspect Ruby will be pushing the wagon herself someday soon(ish), but in the meantime we're having fun towing her through the kitchen and great room while she hugs her cow, Flossie C. Snuggles (the wagon's other passenger, more often than not), and grins.

I can't blame her, really. If I could wrangle somebody into pulling me around, I'd sure as hell travel that way all the time.

accentuating the positive

2010-11-30T18:23:00.000-08:00

Know what would be awesome? Good things. Because right now I'm sitting here next to a wall that was, until a few minutes ago, covered in cat urine (thanks again, Stewie) and still reeks. And I had hoped to make yet another Triumphant Return to the treadmill tonight after a long hiatus. Afterward, I had big plans to finish up my Christmas Wish List that's been requested by family members. But instead I had to work late and do laundry (shrank a sweater...grrrr) and clean up cat piss. And I'm blogging on Boy Chris's computer because mine refused to start tonight (I am so overdue for a computer upgrade), so I don't have access to my photographs OR the X-Mas list I started over the weekend. So, here I am trying to think of some good things so I don't get too bogged down in the moping. Turns out that treadmill has been buoying my spirits more than I thought, judging from my general mood during the past few weeks. I'll get back on that basement horse again soon. I have to. In the meantime, guess I'll just keep half-watching this episode of 16 and Pregnant, which never fails to make me recognize how good my life is.

And that's the thing, right? I know I should be grateful to be sitting in this warm little house on a cold night like this, with a Woodchuck Cider to my left and two snuggling cats to my right (we brought out the electric blanket this week...let the cat love begin!). And I am. I'm grateful for those things, and for the fact that my one-year-old is snoozing away in her crib. This has been hit-or-miss recently, thanks to a bout of croup. Eff you, croup. What a nasty illness for a little person. Ruby seems to be on the tail end of it now, but she still wakes herself up coughing at night. Boy Chris and I are recovering from our own colds, so you can imagine the trail of wadded-up Kleenex in our wake and the sexy bags under our eyes from the not sleeping and the various ailments. So glamorous.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, being grateful. My problems are small in the grand scheme of things, so I'm working on not getting too mired in them (how'm I doing?). Not sweating the small stuff or freaking out about who moved my cheese or whatever. This is the time of year when we're supposed to be more reflective, to think about the things in our life we appreciate and spread as much goodness as we can. I don't do either of things as often as I should, probably, though I mean well most of the time. When we were still living in Watertown, I took a knitting class at Cambridge Adult Ed. one fall. The teacher was all kinds of kooky and tangent-y, and one night she asked us to come to the next class with a list of 20 things we loved. It was so vague and so not related to knitting, but I'm a good egg (ignore an assignment? NEVER) so I sat down and thought about it and brought my list to the next class, wondering if we would have to share them with everyone. And, unsurprisingly, the instructor never even mentioned the lists. I kept mine tucked in my purse and was too embarrassed to bring it up. But every once in a while, when I find myself enjoying something, I think: would this make my list? So tonight, while I'm trying to swing this mood in the opposite direction, here are 20 things I'm thankful for at this very moment in time. In no particular order, and without explanation (I've got to go to sleep soon):

1. the Internets
2. having a washer and dryer in my basement
3. Ruby's chubby, rosy cheeks
4. free shipping offers
5. sitting in the living room with a fire in the woodstove
6. Christmas lights/music
7. friends new and old, wise and funny
8. the fact that I can listen to my old-school iPod in my older-school car
9. cheddar soup
10. Breaking Bad on DVD
11. Boy Chris's beard
12. coffee, always and forever
13. that I am not 16 and pregnant
14. warm, dry socks
15. candles that smell like pine trees
16. that I am no longer at Disney World
17. date night this weekend
18. books and the occasional chance to read before bed
19. health insurance
20. Rosemary Clooney

So, there you go. And what do you know? Things seem a little better than they did when I started this post a half-hour ago. Also, I think the teenaged parents on 16 and Pregnant are...panning for gold? I haven't been paying close attention, but it definitely looks like that's what they're doing. Hope that's not how they're planning to pay for that baby's college. Can I add one more thing to my list?

21. that I have a job and am not panning for gold

That about does it. G'night!

pass the pie(s)

2010-11-22T18:22:00.000-08:00

Oh man, has it really been almost a month since I've blerged? Allow me to tip my (furry Russian) hat to Mr., uh, Sweater for stepping in to write that last post. I often wish he'd start his own blerg -- his writing is a delight -- but I very much understand the lack of free time to devote to it. I try not to feel too guilty when I neglect my own corner of the Internerds (where'd all these dust bunnies come from, anyway?), especially because I often have the best intentions to sit down and write. And then life just gets in the way. Alas. Here's my latest litany of excuses:

** I'm just not feeling well. For the last week, I've been battling an awful sore throat and general malaise -- for a few days there, it felt like I'd been chewing on glass. Pleasant! I'm finally feeling better today, and I've never been so grateful for the ability to speak and swallow without wanting to curl up in the fetal position.

** The aforementioned illness arrived just in time to put a very big damper on my trip to Orlando for a work conference. Though, in retrospect, maybe it wasn't ALL bad -- feeling like death warmed over at least let me focus on something besides being away from Ruby (and Chris, of course) for two nights. Fortunately, it went pretty quickly. The conference was held at a Disney resort, which...well, I get why people would want to take their kids there. I do. But as an adult on a work trip, with no child in tow, I found the Disney Way a bit...unnerving. Creepy, even. Overall, I guess I just didn't have a very "magical" stay. It is what it is.

**Last week we took Ru to her first physical therapy appointment, which went about 200 times better than I expected and was -- shockingly, to me -- almost fun. The therapist is awesome, and she told us what we already suspected: that we have a very bright, very verbal child on our hands -- one who is reluctant to do things outside of her comfort zone, but who by all accounts seems to be a quick study. The therapist was encouraging about Ruby's ability to get up to speed with her motor skills and didn't seem to think it would take long. Of course, this was just one visit, and who knows what the next several weeks will bring. But so far, so good. And as a proud mama, anything that gives me a chance to spend an hour a week watching my kid make strides and get to clap for herself can't be a bad thing.

**I've been running approximately 20 miles a week. OK, that's a big fat lie. I haven't been running at ALL. But feeling guilty about this takes up at least 5-10% of my day, so I'm including it here as a time-sucking excuse. Between the cold I had a couple weeks ago and my current germiness, I haven't been healthy enough to put in my usual treadmill time. And oh do I miss it. No, really. It just makes me feel less frumpy and more capable. Two things I aim for, usually. Hopefully after Thanksgiving I can get back on track.

** Speaking of Thanksgiving, I am so freaking ready for it, even though it kind of snuck up on me. Doug and Roz are coming up from Dedham, which -- yay! We've never spent this holiday together, but I hope this isn't the last because I suspect a great time will be had by all. Rosanne is making some stuffing and pie, and I'm hoping to repeat my previous turkey-making success. I'm also making pie because, seriously, you can never have enough pie. It's just not possible. In my perfect version of Thanksgiving, there's a whole pie for every person at the table. I feel like the pilgrims would approve of that.

*****

Despite my penchant for occasional whininess and self-pity, I'm really feeling grateful for a whole bunch of things this year. One of those things is the fact that some people swing by this site to read what I have to say every few days (or, um, weeks...I'll try to be better!). Thanks for that. You know, this time last year we were in the thick of life with a newborn, not sure whether we were coming or going. This year, well, we're still feeling our way, but the path seems clearer and we're definitely not alone. These are fantastic things.

May you have many pieces of pie with the people of your choosing. Happy Thanksgiving! xoxo

Guest Post from Mr., uh, Sweater

2010-11-10T18:34:00.000-08:00

Summer Sweater is really tired tonight and asked me if I'd blog for her. I said "OK" and asked for her Blogger password, which she gave me probably thinking I was joking (it's mrsbieber). So here I am, staring down a blank page. Blogging is really hard, actually. I started a blog once and never made a single entry because I couldn't think of anything to write about. So, good job all you prolific bloggers — I love reading your work and always feel bad that I consume so much content and never contribute anything myself. So right here, right now — this is my big chance to throw down and give back to the Internet.

And fortunately, I just finished a beer. Those of you who know me well know that I'm pretty much an open book after a beer. So let's pick that book up, take a quick look at the author picture to judge his or her attractiveness, and dive in...

Despite my forthcoming mood, I'm going to remain mindful of the Summer Sweater brand:

Whoomp there it is! I can't believe I'm the dad of a one-year-old. Ruby attacked her birthday cupcake with gusto, then blew off her afternoon nap to enjoy the ensuing sugar high. Thanks to everyone who sent cards or gifts, or posted nice things on Facebook. Year 1 is in the books, and we're all still standing. Actually, that's not true: Two of us are standing and one of us is scooting. Which was not enough to impress Ruby's pediatrician on Monday during her checkup. Despite being able to travel about six inches with each scoot, Ruby still isn't managing to get from lying down to sitting up. So it's off to physical therapy for us, starting next week. The pediatrician doesn't think there's anything to worry about: In so many (more tactful) words she suggested that it's a combination of Ruby's "spirited" personality when confronted with something she doesn't want to do, and our first-time-parent aversion to making Ruby do anything she doesn't want to do. (And Ruby's ability to reenact scenes from The Exorcist was on full display minutes later when they made us take her down to the lab to draw some blood. Oy.) We left Intermed feeling wiped out and a bit parentally discouraged.

Having said that, we know she's going to walk eventually. Besides, scooting is so cute and manageable, I know I'm really going to miss it when she's stumbling around the house like an uncoordinated Godzilla with a death wish.

Well, I could go on all night about naps and sleep (seriously, what happened to me?), but my one-beer buzz is wearing off and the laptop battery has turned red - so I'll leave those topics in the more capable hands of the real Summer Sweater. Goodnight!

hearts are made for breaking

2010-10-28T16:14:00.001-07:00

Would you look at this almost-one-year-old face?

I can't help it -- as we inch closer to Ru's first birthday, I'm drowning in nostalgia. Not a recent day has gone by that I haven't thought, What were we doing this time last year? Did we have even the slightest idea what was in store? And those early days with Ruby, so much of an exhausted blur even when I try to piece them together. My most vivid memory of the cold winter months is the three of us ensconced in the great room, with the Christmas lights strung on the big windows and the cold wind/snow/whatever going on outside.

That sounds perfectly idyllic, doesn't it? Here's where I remind you of the scene inside the room: Chris and I would set up a laptop on a cardboard box (what are we, street urchins?) and take turns watching whatever simple-minded fare we'd gotten from Netflix while the other one walked Ruby around and around and around and around the room, through the kitchen, and back again, over and over. A lot. Ruby would not go gentle into, well, anything. So our evenings were spent trying to keep her from crying too much while we took shifts to eat dinner and sit down for a little while. To be fair, Boy Chris took more of the baby-walking shifts, bless his worn-through socks. Between the birthing and breastfeeding and hormonal carnival rides I was often on, he stepped up like a champ and made sure I could rest as much as I needed.

We did this routine until 9 or 10 at night, when we'd all head off to the "family" bed (shut up, it worked) and hope for sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat, for...uh, a long time? I can't remember when things started to get easier -- I don't even know anymore if I was already back at work or not. A blur, all of it.

And, of course, a blur I wouldn't trade for all the cider donuts in the world. I'm getting sappy about all of it as we close in on one year, but holy cow has this little person changed our world. (She just started a high-pitched whine from the other room -- it's like she can TELL when I'm about to embarrass her with praise!) Tuesday I helped Chris get her out to the car in the rain, and once she was in her car seat she waved and waved her little hand at me, smiling and saying goodbye (okay, maybe more like "buh," but it counts). And today when I accidentally (ahem) tooted, she looked at me with huge eyes and said "Uh-oh!" Who is this funny person, and how did she get here?

Along with all the sappiness and lurve, I feel really, really proud. Chris and I have team-parented for a whole year -- a year without family nearby, a year that began with us knowing very few people we could lean on locally (here is where I want to mention the *amazing* people we have met this past year, partly as a result of having a kid and partly because of sheer dumb luck -- but that's a post for another time). We made it, and our kid is doing great. We will no doubt celebrate with a (single) glass of wine and an early night, followed by a day spent chasing Ruby as she scoots like a fireball around our house. Sounds pretty good to me.*

*Well, okay -- I could probably go for more than a single glass of wine. We'll see.

progress report: mid-october

2010-10-17T18:37:00.000-07:00

I just uploaded the photos from my camera onto the computer -- something like 70 of them from just the last few days. Holy moly. I should spend more time writing and less time snapping, probably. Anyway, here are some highlights.

First and foremost, Chris and I are doing our very best to make sure Ruby is the musical genius of her generation (no pressure!):

The other day, Ru came home from daycare with some hair bling:

I do not know how they got her to let them put her hair up like that -- I tried it again today, and girlfriend was having NONE of it. Anyway, it sure was cute while it lasted.

Lots and lots of scooting is taking place on our floors. Fast and furious (and with one sock on and one off -- that's how she rolls):

Also a visit from a friend (cute Leah!):

Finally, poor Ru probably thought she'd seen the last of this particular coat, but unfortunately for her (and happily, for me!), last year's bear jacket has at least a month or two of wear left in it before the arms get ridiculously short. Bring it, fall!

We also made the much-anticipated trip to Arlington, MA, last weekend to see our dear friends Sarah and Andy get hitched, but my pictures all came out blurry and/or unflattering (mostly of me -- I have become utterly incapable of taking a cute picture; in this particular instance, it was a bad case of SNB [Saggy Nursing Boobs]. That acronym's for the benefit of dear Billygoat, who will, I think, appreciate it). So you'll just have to take my word for it that the wedding was wonderful, Sarah and Andy are now married folk, and a great time was had by all. What's more, Ruby and I both made it through our first night apart -- it was awfully good to get home to my little bear, though.

where've i been?

2010-10-03T17:41:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned that fall's my favorite season? Can I claim autumnitis for my lack of blogging? I've been busy trying to make the most of this lovely (and fast-moving!) season. Just this weekend, I got some purple and yellow mums for the front steps; drank Pumpkinhead beer, pumpkin spice coffee, and a boatload of hot apple cider; baked bread; went apple-picking; sat in the hot tub and watched the stars; and wore scarves (one at a time, of course). All that was missing were cider donuts (the orchard where we picked apples didn't have any...*sniff*) and a crackling fire (it's not quite that cold yet). Still, that's a lot of amazing seasonal stuff, and I look forward to it every year. I'm sorry, rest of the U.S., but there's just nothing quite like fall in New England.

Other things:

Once again, I'm waaaaay behind (see, e.g., Bon Iver), but: Avett Brothers? I am on board! Chris and I caught a concert of theirs on TV Friday night, and before it was even over I'd fired up the ol' iTunes and downloaded I and Love and You.
We're watching Breaking Bad on DVD, slowly. I'm bad about focusing on it (at some point since having a child, I seem to have lost the ability to simply sit and watch whatever's on -- I'm a crazy-ass multitasker), but when I do, I like it. It's nice to enjoy a show and know there are several more seasons, already on DVD, waiting to be viewed at any time.
Ruby turns 11 months old this week. That's...insane. She's still not crawling (how I feel about this varies wildly by the day...today I'm fine with it, so you've been spared a "why isn't my kid doing what all the other kids are doing?" entry), but the last time we saw the pediatrician she said we'd reevaluate at her 12-month appointment to make sure there's nothing physically keeping her from doing so. But move, she does...she can scoot a respectable distance on her booty, and she bounces up and down like mad. Also, her dancing? Is my favorite thing. And anyway, self-propelled movement is way overrated. Her dad will simply carry her to her college classes like this (with an apple on her head, no less):

Stewie is still spraying our stuff. It's a giant drag. Lulu is trying to make up for it by being super awesome with Ruby -- she's patient and sits right by her all the time, even when it doesn't end well.
Things are still very, very busy, but I'm trying to take some smart people's advice and "lower the bar" of expectations. Funnily enough, this often means I run out of time to exercise.
Did I tell you I got a Kindle for my birthday? (Thanks again, mama!) I thought I'd like it, but it turns out I LOVE it. I've been reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen on it since my birthday. How much do I enjoy this book? So much that, even though my US Magazine arrived in the mail yesterday, I chose my Kindle for bedtime reading instead. Pretty sure that's a first for me. Oh, and the cover w/built-in light was well worth the splurge. One of the things I missed most about my pre-baby life, in the early days when we coslept with Ruby, was my bedtime reading ritual. Now it's back--with accessories!--and I can't think of a better way to be lulled to sleep.**
Bonus: Now there's a tremendously cute baby sleeping (hopefully, please, etc.) in the next room over. My almost-one-year-old. That was one fast year.

**Unless Brian Williams could be convinced to come read me to sleep every night.

i don't mind the weather

2010-09-17T06:23:00.000-07:00

The cooler weather has arrived, and with it the opportunity to dress my baby in really cute fall garb. Behold the strawberry hat! My coworker Rebecca sat next to a woman who knitted this hat on a recent flight. The woman gave the hat to Rebecca, who gifted it to Ruby, who seems to love it. Everybody wins.

And now, behold my husband growing very weary of my photographic demands on our evening walk!

The beard lends credence to his "annoyed" face, don't you think?

We've had near-perfect weather this summer, which we've enjoyed on our nightly walks with the Rutabaga. As the sun sets earlier and earlier, and the air gets cooler, these walks are becoming shorter and faster-paced. Soon they'll have to be curtailed, I imagine, unless we get a rare warm evening or learn how to bundle Ru so no icy air hits her little face. (Do they make baby balaclavas? Should they?) She's likely much heartier now than she was last winter, when I thought I broke her the first time I took her out in the windy cold, but I still don't like the idea of exposing her to freezing temps any more than necessary. Oh, Maine. I do love you. I just wish these warm-ish days and not-too-cold nights could last until, say, December this year. THEN I might be more ready for snow, etc. (It's the "etc." that gets dreary.)

Anyway. For now, I'll try not to blink and miss this lovely late summer/early fall period. And Ru will just have to learn to love the cozy layered look. Fortunately, she's pretty agreeable.

That is, until you tell her she isn't allowed to chew on the camera...

and miles to go

2010-09-12T05:29:00.000-07:00

Boy Chris has been growing a beard since vacation. Have you seen it? It's awesome and I love it.

(This picture's from his birthday a month ago, so imagine it a bit fuller now.)

He seems to go back and forth, as far as liking it, but I wonder if it might come in handy now that the cooler weather seems to be upon us. Beards: not just fun to look at -- they also keep the face warm up here in the cold climates.

Boy Chris and I will be going on an official Date Night next weekend -- an honest-to-goodness birthday dinner at a Fancy ($$$) Restaurant! I am excited and only a little bit apprehensive. We'll be leaving Ruby with with her first non-family babysitter, a lovely young woman with stellar references and whom Ru has already met and approved of (pretend I'm not ending this sentence with a preposition). I know both of them will do fine, of course, but I imagine I'll have my cell phone extremely close to my face several times that night. It's a process. Still, I need to practice, since we'll be going to a wedding in Boston next month without Ru -- Chris's mom has kindly agreed to stay overnight with her so we can spend the night there. And then in November, I'll be at a work conference in Florida for two nights. That...well, it's going to be a weird mixture of much-appreciated freedom (a hotel bed to myself! maybe even sleeping more than six hours straight for the first time in a year!) and worry/sadness/etc. at being away from my kiddo. She'll be over a year old by then, which in my mind makes it sound a little less terrifying, but still. Prepare for some melodrama on my part.

Speaking of the Ru, she's as cute as ever. Here she is doing one of her favorite things, torturing (or, to her mind, "playing with") Lulu. Looks like somebody's a proctologist-in-training:

Ruby's going through all sorts of changes these days. She's not crawling yet, but she's found a way to scoot on her booty to get places instead. It's not all that efficient, but it's pretty adorable. We suspect her first teeth are imminent (though I've been saying this since month six, so don't listen to me), because she gets random fits of whiny fussing, and also the pediatrician told us two weeks ago that the bottom two looked likely to break through soon. All the stuff going on in her brain and body have resulted in consistently rough sleep, but we're muddling through (admittedly, Boy Chris is handling it more gracefully than I am). Most of the time, during the daylight hours, we have a happy little baby girl on our hands. And the faces she makes are GOLDEN:

You want me to do what?

I'll sleep when I'm damn well ready, capiche?

I'll go to bed in a second. Hold on while I don my wooden circle hat.

We taught Ru to fist-bump, which is as fun as you're imagining (and then some), and she's also learned to clap. So, when she's not nose-deep in a book -- little girlfriend loves reading more than anything else, I think -- she's applauding all sorts of things. A cat walks into the room? Clap clap clap! She finishes eating a piece of broccoli? Clap clap clap! Mama manages to go 10 minutes without mentioning how tired she is? Clap clap clap!

Sometimes it takes having a baby in the house to realize just how many applause-worthy things are in the world, I guess.

shipping (bad) news

2010-08-31T18:24:00.001-07:00

I'm a gigantic fan of online shopping. LOVE the convenience, the deals, the thrill of hitting the "Submit Order" button. Most of all, I enjoy the anticipation -- knowing that, in a few days' time, a package will be waiting for me on my doorstep. So it wasn't a tough decision to sign up for a free trial of Amazon Prime last month. Chris and I have a bunch of friends and family members with birthdays/events in the summer months, so I knew it would be helpful to have fast, free shipping at our disposal. And really, the service did not disappoint. I told you I'm trying to cut down drastically on my Target purchases, and this was a great (read: easy) way to have household stuff delivered on the cheap. At this point, Amazon really does sell everything under the sun -- up to and including the kitchen sink (whoa) -- so there wasn't much I searched for and didn't find. Again, that's awfully convenient, and as a busy lady I think that's a huge plus.

Anyway, I gave some serious thought to paying the $79 annual fee to continue my membership, but ultimately I decided it's not worth it in the long run. So I placed one final order on Friday. Today, my last Prime package landed on my doorstep, and lo, it was...not what I expected.

Here's the box Chris pulled inside the house (cat collapsed from heat stroke included for scale):

I took out the packaging to show you the contents of said brown box:

Over there in the left corner is my order: two packages of Medela breast pump wipes. As you can see, they are not big packages -- each one's about the size of a couple Pop Tarts (mmm, Pop Tarts...).

Let's take another look at this work of packaging genius:

The box my order arrived in was big enough to hold several human skul . . . uh, lots and lots of books! It was ridiculous, and it made me wonder what the hell's going on at Amazon Distribution. It also made me glad I didn't extend my Prime membership. I can't say I expect such a huge-scale operation to always have an eye on curbing wastefulness, but this? Is just silly. And kind of embarrassing.

Fortunately, another thing I'm a big fan of is providing feedback. I love to hear if I'm doing a good job (who doesn't?), so I like to return the favor when I come across excellent service. It only takes a few minutes to write a glowing review (or a few seconds to tell someone they're awesome at what they do). This, of course, goes both ways -- the complaint letter's a lot less fun to write, but probably just as important. But look: Amazon has asked to hear from me.

I still love you, Amazon, but we need to talk.

*****

In other news, here's Ru with her first real boo-boo -- girlfriend knocked her melon on the coffee table last week. She cried for about 30 seconds and then forgot about it. It took me a lot longer to recover, I'm afraid. (It happened on my watch. Oh, the guilt.)

Little resilient face:

Chris said the other day that he sometimes thinks Ruby looks like the kid from Love, Actually. I'll leave you with his picture, so you can form your own judgment.

I can see it, I think, but my baby girl's a whole lot cuter. In my humble opinion.

ohhhmmmmm

2010-08-24T19:02:00.001-07:00

This is how busy life has become: I was perusing the fall yoga schedule at the studio where I've taken a couple classes, and a morning meditation class caught my eye. My days are so hectic, so full of stuff from start to finish -- it just sounded awesome to schedule a definite time each week to sit in a quiet room with my eyes closed (I'm guessing) and let it all fade away. I'm just assuming this is what would happen, and not what normally happens when I close my eyes in a quiet room -- i.e., I either fall asleep immediately, or my brain goes haywire amid the silence and does the opposite of relaxing. (Grocery lists to create! What was I supposed to pick up on my way home? Did I lock the car? What was the name of the kid Lindsay went to the dance with on the first episode on Freaks and Geeks? The important stuff....) And then I noticed that, the way the class was scheduled, it would run right into my weekly staff meeting at work. This is pure conjecture, but I'm betting it's frowned upon to sneak out of meditation class early so one can race down the street to make it to a meeting on time. But this perfectly sums up the way things are going these days. Eastern calm, meet my Western routine.

So, needless to say, the blog's been a recent casualty of life's hurried pace. I intend to write far more often than I actually do, and I have big hopes that I'll get back to it more often, but bear with me while I try to locate pockets of the day that aren't filled with Ruby & Boy Chris time, work, sleep (when it happens), trying to catch up with the pile of magazines on my bedside table, eating crappy food and then regretting it, running/thinking up excuses to skip running, etc., etc. You understand. It's this way in your own life too, right? (If not, I've got a dusty little blog that could use a guest post!)

Anyway, in the meantime, here's my sweet bookworm. She's responsible for many of my busiest hours, of course, but I'm good with that. The pay can't be beat.

Bee-bo!

once when you weren't looking, i did a cannonball

2010-08-11T18:16:00.000-07:00

The scattered (and no doubt fascinating) contents of my brain, in no particular order:

I'm discovering that Loudoun Wainwright III has a hand in, like, 85% of the entertainment diversions I most enjoy. When we were on vacation, we watched The 40-Year-Old Virgin, and I noticed for the first time that he plays the priest who marries Steve Carell and Catherine Keener. I've seen that movie a kajillion times -- it's one of my favorites -- and never before realized that. A fabulous discovery. He's so good in Undeclared and Parks and Rec. Also, his song "Lullaby" is just wonderful. If you haven't heard it, I recommend a listen as soon as you can manage.
I feel strongly that if you're a person who loves language and words and all sort of linguistic tomfoolery, you should really love Jay-Z. I was listening to "Empire State of Mind" on my drive to work this morning -- before having a full cup of coffee, no less -- and had my hair blown back by the wordplay in that song. Still not tired of it.
I'm so disappointed by Target's recent political funding shenanigans, I don't know what to do. I'm a pretty frequent Target shopper -- it's awfully convenient for household items, and the prices are reasonable. Several of Ruby's bigger pieces of baby gear came from there, along with a handful of my own clothing basics (I *still* sport their maternity tank tops, nine months after giving birth...I can't find tanks that long anywhere else!), most of the rugs in our house, the huge pack of toilet paper and Kleenex boxes in the bathroom closet...you get the picture. But I like to shop places I feel good about, and right now I don't feel so good about funneling my cash into Target's coffers, so I'm going to do my very best to only go there when I can't find a suitable (ideally, local) alternative. I was there earlier this week to spend a gift card, and as I wandered the aisles and tried to explain as gently as possible to the merchandise and employees why they'd be seeing a lot less of me, I spotted this monstrosity:

That's a piggy bank, but the poor pig is donning a tulle tutu and a silver tiara. Sweet jesus. Do little girls like this sort of thing? Don't answer that. I want to remain blissfully unaware for as long as possible.

Another place I shop too frequently for my own good is that most convenient paycheck-suck of all: Amazon.com. I've got a lot of birthdays coming up that I need to shop for, so I signed up for the free month of Amazon Prime to take advantage of the two-day shipping. And lo, it is a lovely thing. Must resist pushing the "Place Order" button like a crazy "no whammy!" game-show contestant all month long. Also must teach Ruby that, no matter how much we enjoy those cardboard boxes that show up on our doorstep, we must be responsible consumers. She's a bit dubious, I think, but definitely open to suggestion.

Also? Unbelievably cute.

Further proof, as if it's needed:

Lest you think she's just a pretty face, my kid's also a smartypants. She's figured out that her activity cube is hollow, and if you sit on the other side of it from her, she'll peer through to try and see you. See?

It's fascinating (and exciting and daunting...) to watch Ru figure out more of the world around her. It's also amazing how fast she changes. In the past couple weeks, she's clearly begun to enter her "separation anxiety" stage -- she curls into me at daycare drop-off sometimes, like a little turtle, and at night she lays her warm little head on my shoulder when I walk her around before bedtime. It's my favorite thing.

And since so much of this post involves consumerism, let's end with this. I am not a person who spends big money with reckless abandon (a direct result of not being a person who *makes* big money). I love bargains in a scary way and pride myself on being able to find things on the cheap -- I wait for things to go on sale, make regular use of online coupons, rely heavily on second-hand clothes/furniture/etc., and will Google myself silly until I'm SURE I've found the lowest price for something. But earlier this year I got a nice bonus and raise at work and decided to treat myself. I thought about several options -- I could use a new laptop, so maybe an iPad? Or perhaps I could indulge in some of the clothes I've had on my Anthropologie wishlist for a while? But very quickly I knew where I wanted my money to go, and so I sent it off and in return had the following waiting for me when we got back from vacation:

This is Car Singers, a "fabric painting" by Chris Roberts-Antieau that I've coveted since I first saw it online a couple years ago. I love so much about it -- the mouths wide open in song, the fact that it looks like they're driving into the sky, the fountain drink in the cup holder. Love, love, love. It brings me so much joy, this art. Joy that was only increased by the kind woman at Chris's studio who took my order, when she told me to make sure and mention -- when I next call -- that I get the "collector" discount.

...

You guys, it's finally happened. I'm an art collector. * **

*Nobody tell Sallie Mae. They'll have some questions.
**And while we're at it, don't mention it to Boy Chris either.

vacation: all i ever wanted

2010-08-01T19:48:00.000-07:00

As usual, Rosanne has done a much better and more thorough post on our fabulous vacation at Lake St. George, so here's the truncated version (because it is 10:45 on Sunday night, I'm posting this while keeping one eye on Mad Men, and bed is calling to me...).

There was some kayaking and fishing in glorious weather:

Great conversation with excellent friends:

Enthusiastic singing and uke-ing:

Eye patches were worn:

Delicious pieces of pie were eaten:

This girl was fabulous company:

Signs were true:

I miss it already. I swear I thought I felt like there was water beneath me today, like I was still in a big blue kayak on a quiet lake. We'll see you again soon, Liberty. Don't go changing!

list-o-mania

2010-07-21T18:18:00.000-07:00

My mom and stepfather were here last weekend, and a good time was had by all (I think, anyway...I'll just go ahead and speak for everyone). My mom, especially, ate up Ruby with a spoon. I'm not sure who was more smitten:

I haven't been setting aside enough treadmill time these days, and I feel it in both my tired bod and my whirling brain. Running -- or the slow, deliberate plod I call "running," anyway -- does wonders for me, and I always feel better for having done it, even if I only manage 20 or 30 minutes at a time. Must get back on top of this. I've reached a certain peace with my post-baby body -- which, really, looks a lot like my pre-baby body (in other words, any extra pounds I may be sporting shouldn't be blamed on pregnancy and its after-effects -- they were there before Ru too). But the mental quiet that follows a workout is well worth giving up some beloved evening couch time.
Favorite current running soundtrack: The Blueprint 3 by Jay-Z. Sometimes I find myself singing in my head, "Thank you thank you thank you, you're far too KIND" as I walk around downtown. It makes me chuckle. And feel very, um, white.
I have so many unread books piled on my nightstand, it's killing me. In a good way. And still I covet more. I want to add to the pile with Lit by Mary Karr (if you haven't read any of her books, please consider doing so...to my mind, she's one of the best memoirists we've got), Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann, Mary and O'Neil by Justin Cronin, etc., etc. There's just not enough time for all the reading I've got planned. This is a pretty decent problem to have, I think. There's something comforting about knowing you've got the next few months' reading all mapped out...
We'll be on vacation next week, spending it at the same lake house as last year, with our same dear friends. I hope to spend some time doing this:

When we took this trip last year, I was almost six months pregnant with Ruby, and this year we'll be vacationing with our almost-nine-month-old baby girl. Whoa, changes. Sometimes I'm still so amazed she's here. She seems pretty happy about it, too.

enjoying the ride

2010-07-12T18:18:00.000-07:00

This child changes daily.

I swear, I spend all weekend looking at her mug, go to work on Monday, come home, and wonder how her face matured so much during business hours. I really enjoy being a working mom, and all that it allows me to do, but I have to say I get a little twinge when I think I might be missing some of this time with the bug. Still, our lifestyle works for us as a family, and I'm constantly amazed that we seem to be firing on all cylinders most of the time. I mean, HELL YES, I would pay cash money for better and longer sleep, and it's still hard to balance my very strong desire for downtime (mama needs to recharge her batteries) with baby-rearing. But overall I know we've got it good, and I'm grateful for it. Or I try to be, anyway.

It helps that we have a lot of these:

Big ol' belly laughs, often at the expense of others. One of the books we got at Ruby's pediatrician's office has a page that shows a little boy crying (to introduce different emotions/expressions to babies). When we get to the fold-down page that says "boo-hoo" and shows this sad kid crying big tears, Ruby wheezes and laughs every time. It's cruel but hysterical. I love it.

She's also being exposed to lots of music, since that's something super important to me and her dad. Our friend Jenna had mentioned the Barenaked Ladies children's CD called Snack Time, and it's just fantastic. No, for real -- and trust me, I'm not a fan of that band. I feel strongly that they should really stick to kiddie tunes, because they're awfully good at them. I find myself humming about Vegetable Town on a regular basis.

Ruby's also been practicing on the drum machine we brought home from Goodwill recently:

Watch out, Meg White.

What else? At eight months old, Ru is finally starting to take to solid foods. She loves yogurt and doesn't seem to mind various purees. We've also been giving her "finger foods," in the form of strips of sweet peppers and carrot sticks, which she can chew on to get familiar with different textures and flavors. Still no teeth to speak of, so she gums everything like a little old man.

An old man with a sweat-formed fauxhawk.

four for the fourth (on the fifth)

2010-07-05T18:16:00.000-07:00

Wow, has it really been almost two weeks since I've posted here? Holy blog avoidance! In my defense, it's summer (heat makes me wilty) and life's busy. Yours is too, I know. Thanks for spending a few minutes of it here.

Of course, although I haven't posted anything of substance (or at all) in two weeks, I'm still going to take the easy road tonight and rely on the good old bullets. I do love a list format. In honor of the 4th of July holiday, here are four good and bad things from this almost-over long weekend:

The good:

I'm wrapping up a five-day weekend, and those five days included high volumes of ice cream (and gelato and frozen custard...), grilled foodstuffs, cold cider (of the adult beverage variety), pre-bedtime walks, and pleasure reading.
I got to spend all of Thursday afternoon with this dear, amazing friend:

Courtney and I have been friends since junior high, and it's one of those reassuring friendships that picks up right where it left off, no matter how long it's been. Facebook and the interwebs have made keeping up with each other much easier, of course, but there's just nothing like face time with a beloved pal. And I can't even tell you how long it had been since we had hours -- hours!! -- to hang out and talk like we did Thursday. (Thanks again to Courtney's husband, Scott, for taking their three boys to a movie so Courtney and I could have some catch-up time!) Ruby loved her too, of course. Who wouldn't?

A trip to the ginormous new Goodwill in South Portland today scored Boy Chris a drum machine and a book he's wanted for a while. And this morning, I replaced my broken sideview mirror on the Subaru by myself, which saved a trip to a garage for a small but annoying car problem -- and made me feel accomplished.
Ruby has been in a fantastic mood and has faced our hot summer weather with aplomb and plain old cuteness. Her granny brought her a red, white, and blue frock when she last visited, so Ru wore it yesterday to celebrate our fine country. Would you look at this sweet face:

The bad:

Mother-effing heat. I'm sweaty and uncomfortable and, well, not handling it very gracefully.
It's 9:45 p.m., and Ruby's still fighting sleep. Her room's a sauna when it gets this hot, so Chris is currently trying to convince her to sleep in the Pack & Play set up in our room, where the window a/c unit lives. I haven't heard much from there in a while, but the fact that he's still in there with her doesn't bode too well for the night ahead.
Did I mention the heat? And the humidity? That's supposed to stick around all week?
This last one breaks my heart and puts all my former whining into perspective. Doug and Ro lost their amazing cat Wyatt this weekend. Wyatt was such a docile, funny, and all-around fabulous cat, and he brought so much joy to them (and to all of us who had the pleasure of petting his awesome mane these past several years). He'll be tremendously missed. We love you, Wyatt (and Doug and Ro, too...).

always a lumberjack

2010-06-22T18:03:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking about Flagstaff, Arizona, what with their terrible wildfires in the news this week. I lived in Flagstaff for several years in the mid-90s while I attended (and graduated from) Northern Arizona University. It's a wonderful city in a whole lot of ways, and to my mind it's the prettiest part of the state (and I think there's a whole lot of pretty in Arizona). Probably most people feel a fondness for their alma mater, and for me that warmth extends to the city itself. I stumbled on northern Arizona at just the right time, and -- hold on while I channel my truly corny side -- I feel like it helped me figure out who I am.

When I graduated from high school, I went off to Guilford College in Greensboro, N.C., for my freshman year. Guilford's an awesome place -- it's a small Quaker school, and Quakerism is the closest I've ever come to understanding religion in any form. Had I been at Guilford at any point besides when I was a self-conscious, insecure, and introverted 17-year-old, I suspect I'd have made more of my time there. Maybe I'd even have stayed? But I didn't...I cited "feeling suffocated" on that small campus and never returned after my first year.

Before I move on from Guilford, I have to post this picture I found of me and my stepfather, Russ, on the day he and my mom dropped me off:

Check out my nametag! Russ is pumping his fist in a joking manner, but do not be fooled. We were *exceedingly* happy to be rid of each other. I can say this now because we've come a long way, Russ and I. Whether it's time or distance or whatever helps these things along, our relationship has improved mightily over the years. We're still probably a work in progress, but boy howdy are we better than we used to be. Still, this picture cracks me up in its sheer honesty. I don't know which one of us was more excited that Guilford was an eight-hour drive from Virginia.

Anyway. After Guilford, I took a year off and worked odd jobs and got supremely depressed in the way that I swear is unique to 19-year-olds. It can be such a hard time if you lack direction, and what 19-year-old really has direction? This one sure didn't. By spring, I decided that an enormous change of scene was the answer I needed. I packed my stuff into my Subaru wagon and drove to Gilbert, Arizona, just outside of Phoenix, where I was to stay with my mom's old friend Christy and Christy's sister Nancy for an indeterminate length of time. Basically I was running away from my problems, which *always* works really well. Except, the thing is? It totally worked.

(Here is where I look back and realize I must have scared my mom out of her wits, what with driving across the country by myself when I was a teenager and still pretty depressed and probably not making super smart decisions in general. Sorry about that, mom. If Ruby ever does this, we'll consider it payback. [Oh my god please don't let Ruby do this.])

So yeah, it worked. Arizona was so new and shocking to me. The huge saguaro cactus! The crazy summer dust storms! All that flat desert surrounded by mountains! It often looked and felt like I'd landed on the surface of the moon. I was so big on doing things my way, and on my own, and heading west was the biggest thing I'd ever done. It changed everything.

I drove up to Flagstaff one day, just to check out the mountain town I kept hearing about (could it really be twenty degrees cooler there, just two hours north of Phoenix? [Yes.]). And I loved it on sight. You would too, I bet.

I drove through the NAU campus that day, a little faster than I should have. I remember I was pulled over for speeding by a campus cop, to this day the nicest officer of the law I've ever had the pleasure of showing my license and registration. He noticed my Virginia license plates, asked me to watch my speed, and sent me on my way -- sans ticket -- with a hearty "Welcome to Flagstaff!"

Soon after, I applied to the school and was accepted to start in the fall of 1994. I moved up in August and lived (briefly, mercifully) in a gross little studio right on Route 66. Also? Right across from the railroad tracks. I called home a lot those days -- especially at first, when I knew not a soul -- and I'd have to stop the conversation and hold the phone on my shoulder for five minutes at a time when the loud trains would go by (seems they've gotten a bit quieter). Still, it was a start. In retrospect, it really didn't take long to find my footing there, and I'm still amazed at what a full life I was able to create for myself on the other side of the country from my family and friends. I saw so much of the west, got edumacated, and made a few lifelong friends. The whole thing made me more confident, more capable, and braver than I even realized at the time.

It also made me even more of a dirty hippie.

(Hi there, what's up? We're just hanging out in our Tevas and Timberlands, standing here on this log like we do.)

So anyway, this is my long-winded love letter to Flagstaff, my very favorite mountain town, and I hope those fires are contained soon and don't do any more damage than they already have. It's a genuine treasure, that place.

Finally, here's something funny I found when I was looking through a box of old photos last weekend:

That's me in my bedroom in Springfield, Virginia, with my cat Lucky and my stuffed Scottie. If you can tear your eyes away from the red picnic-from-hell wallpaper pattern, check out the poster behind the headboard. It's the Grand Canyon. No idea why I put it up there...odds are I tore that out of an old issue of National Geographic because I thought it was pretty. But now I'm wondering just how much this randomly chosen piece of wall art might have influenced my future direction. Did I internalize that picture? Was it somewhere deep in my brain when I was casting about for places to move to when I was 19? (Although I'm wondering how often I actually *looked* at it back there, seeing as I'd have had to do some Linda Blair-style contorting to see it...)

Anyway, be careful what your kids are putting on their walls, is all I'm saying. There's no telling what it might lead them to do in ten or so years. Because, in my case, it took me right to the source, where I snapped pictures like this next one from my very own camera, standing on the edge of that enormous opening in the earth that I saw in a magazine when I was just a little kid with bad hair and worse wallpaper.

too hot for a summer sweater

2010-06-20T17:44:00.000-07:00

What happens when it gets too hot to wear a summer sweater? I get CRANKY. And listen, I've lived in Mississippi, North Carolina, Virginia, and freaking Arizona, so I know from hot. I'm not so sure my problem is with the heat itself, at least not in the out of doors where it belongs, but what kills me is the indoor heat. The way the house becomes a place where I can't find relief from the endless sweating. One of the things I am really, really good at: sweating. I'm like an Olympic-level sweat producer as soon as the temperature hits 80. It's no fun. And believe me, I feel a little silly for complaining this early in the season, but what can I say...this weekend our house has felt like the steam room at the YMCA, and it's brought out my (not always so) inner curmudgeon.

Anyway. This is Maine (thank GOD), so it's not likely to stay uncomfortable for long. And also it's Father's Day, so I really should be making more of an effort to suck it up for the sake of Boy Chris, who is celebrating this day for the first time. Here's our (glistening) family portrait:

Once again, his folks came up to hang out with Ruby, giving us a few free hours. We spent it eating sandwiches and seeing Toy Story 3 (there is a dinosaur voiced by Mel from Flight of the Conchords, and she was the total highlight of the movie for me. Well, besides the air conditioning.). We were going to go drink beer at a sports bar and watch the World Cup without the jumperoo competing with the volume -- which is how we roll at home -- but the timing just didn't work out. Which is sort of surprising to me, because doesn't it seem like the World Cup is on all day, every day, 24-hour style? It's not, though. Live, learn.

Besides that, our recent days have been filled with much of the same: staring at Ruby and trying to convince her not to change too much too fast, going to work, lamenting the end of the Real Housewives of New York season (OK, this might just be me), sleeping, eating, breathing. The usual. Oh, and we thought Stewie escaped yesterday but eventually found him tucked into a hidden corner of the basement. And it turns out? We really do love him. Because Chris and I turned nearly blue with panic when we thought he was gone. I ran out of the house sans bra, with Ruby on my hip, shaking a baggie of cat treats and asking people if they'd seen my cat who looks "like a small cow." I took nutty to a whole new level yesterday, all in the name of a cat who regularly sprays urine on my things. And yet it makes sense to me.

Okay, I am plain exhausted and need to get to bed before The 40-Year-Old Virgin sucks me in for the 372nd time. God I love this movie so much. Catherine Keener? Check. "Know how I know you're gay?" Check. Mindy Kaling as Paul Rudd's ex? Check. Oh man...must. turn. off. now.

Almost forgot -- some pics of my sunshine. This one's for Aunt Vicki and Uncle Russ:

Rocking Q's overalls!

Hanging out in mama's lap:

Threatening to scoot:

No hands!

And, with that, to bed. xoxoxo

the more things change

2010-06-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

In case there was any doubt, she's definitely my child.

Seems I've passed on my "looks a bit simple in about 50% of photos taken" genes. That's too bad. Fingers crossed she gets some of my good traits to make up for it.

Anyway, I think that dressing Ruby in overalls has fulfilled some sort of deep-seated motherhood wish for me. I always sort of thought that, if and when I bred, my child would be dressed in tiny overalls as soon as possible. And here she is wearing them, and it's kind of blowing me away today. One more thing to cross off the ol' bucket list. (I don't actually have a bucket list. If I did, it would be full of dumb things like "go to Dollywood and ride none of the rides" or "eat meatloaf in every state." Thus, I do not have a bucket list.)

Anyway, these days there is one way to get Ruby to make this super-excited face:

And that's by asking her, in an obnoxious sing-songy voice, "Who's got World Cup feveeerrrrr?" The answer is, of course, her dad. Boy Chris is so freaking excited, and so I'm excited by association, although I'm not sure how much more involved I'll get than watching the U.S. and England teams play. When I was looking for a sampling of my (many) blinking photos for this post, I stumbled across this pic from summer 2006:

The times, they have changed a little bit: I'm totally over David Beckham now (bring on the new batch!), and of course we're in Portland and not our Watertown apartment as pictured above. But as I write this I'm rocking that same messy bun o' hair, and I'm nearly certain that black sweater's still hanging in the closet. Maybe I'll even don it for this Saturday's U.S.A. vs. England match, if I can track down some masking tape...

a good book to chew on

2010-06-03T16:57:00.000-07:00

I think I have blog ennui. Is that a thing? I just haven't felt like doing much writing here in my spare time, partly because said spare time seems to shrink by the week. Where does it go? I wish it would get homesick and return to me.

Anyway, work's been super busy, which accounts for some of my reduced brain power/concentration once I get home. We've also been taking advantage of the generally nice weather to get some stuff done around the house. AND we've been fortunate enough to make some new (local!) friends, so we've had somewhat full dance cards -- a real pleasure. Also, a baby.

Speaking of my baby girl, she gets bigger every day. Here she is earlier today, sitting up (well, sort of propped) and looking insanely cute:

Those cheeks haunt my dreams.

Hello!

Holding on to her constant companion, good old Mortimer the Moose. He's our favorite.

We also read some books today. Ruby's slowly but surely growing to love literature as much as Chris and I do. She just likes to do a little taste-testing of the goods first.

Pleased to report that Hippos Go Berserk met her high standards, with regard to both plot and cardboard consistency.

*****

Finally, I have to share the most horrifying thing I saw this week. I always remark to Boy Chris that Maine has cornered the market on creepy-ass criminals -- by which I mean, whenever a mugshot is shown on the news, it's a safe bet the man (sorry, but it's usually a man) shown in the photo looks like he wandered right off the set of the nearest backwoods horror movie. But last night, I looked up to see the most godawful one yet, a composite sketch of an arsonist (FROM MY NIGHTMARES) done by the Maine State Police:

WHAT IS IT. No really, WHAT IS IT? Its eyes aren't even the same size! I had to physically look away from the TV when I saw this. It looks like the world's freakiest baby, with a mustache thrown on its face for good measure.

Anyway, this morning, I went to open an e-mail Chris sent me, to which he'd attached "this super cute pic of Ru I found on my Mac." I love cute Ru pics! Alas, when I opened it, here's what I saw:

I'm surprised you didn't hear me screaming. (And then laughing. Thank jebus Chris doesn't know my work computer password. Apparently there was desktop wallpaper in the works...)

i once was lost

2010-05-23T17:21:00.000-07:00

I was going to just fly by and post some pictures (lame), since the past week and this weekend seem to have slipped through my fingers. Again. And I'm unashamed to say I'd set aside tonight to watch the finale of LOST, thinking it was on from 7-9pm, a time I can handle. But when I plopped down on the couch, bowl of turkey spaghetti in hand and glasses on -- so as not to miss anything -- I realized 7-9 is merely a recap/cast "memories" episode. The actual finale is on from 9-11:30. I know I'm tossing cool points out the window at lightning speed here, but for real -- 11:30? On Sunday night? I am old and parental, and not even sure my eyelids can stay propped open that long. Not to mention that I'll probably need my synapses to be firing to understand how everything gets wrapped up (or not...).

I'll admit that LOST lost me (har) a bit this season. I won't necessarily blame having a child, though it certainly hasn't helped that I need sleep more than ever and often want to crawl in bed around 9pm on work nights. More than that, though, I think it finally hit me just how little I understand what's happening on the show, and just how far behind I've fallen since the first season, when I worked hard to keep up with all the plot twists. Now I find that I can't remember crucial plot points, or where we've seen certain characters before, or who's in what "reality" at what time...it's sort of maddening for someone with a memory as holey as mine. I don't even remember books I've read (and loved!) a couple weeks after reading them, so I guess there's even LESS room for keeping track of when Jack met Locke in the sideways reality, etc. Still, I do love a big sendoff, so I've been weirdly excited about this finale all day. But if I have to finish watching it on DVR tomorrow, I'll survive. I'm sure there won't be any spoilers online tomorrow or anything. Probably nobody will be talking about it at all.

So, anyway, here's some of our past week with the Ru:

We've summer-fied the deck! The furniture's back out, and Chris nabbed the umbrella (a floor model -- we love a good bargain) at Home Depot last weekend. And we hung a wind chime, which brings me a lot of joy for such a small detail. It also helps to make the frequent Maine wind more fun.

We also set up Ruby's high chair for mealtimes. Can you even stand her curled little feet under the tray? They break my heart, those piggies. So sweet.

We've had a few downright toasty days recently, so we broke out a summer dress this week. First of all, when did my baby get so LONG? She's outgrowing clothes before we even get a chance to try them on her, I swear. Second of all, it's weird to see Ru in a dress. I'm not anti-dress by any means -- anything that makes it easier to squeeze her dimpled legs is OK by me. It's just that we've always dressed Ruby in little onesies and pants, so seeing her in something different takes some getting used to. I think she liked it, though. Check out her Blue Steel face:

That's my girl.

We decided to revisit the swing this week, just for shits and giggles. I mean, it's still taking up valuable real estate in the corner of the great room, so it'd just be a bonus if it weren't merely a decoration. Ruby's definitely getting big for it, but still, she swung happily (doesn't she look happy?) for a good 10-20 minutes (and without needing to hear the awful tinny music it plays, thank god). I took this picture and then stared it for a while, wondering -- yet again -- when my kid got so big. I must have been asleep when it happened. Ha. Hahahahahaha. (Aside: sleep's on the upswing. Commence jinxing myself in 3, 2, 1...)

Sweet potato time!

Ruby wasn't sure about the yams, but she did enjoy our antics. Boy Chris pretended to eat her spoon, and I channeled 30 Rock ("Me want food!"). I read something about how you should try to sit quietly with your baby as he or she learns to eat, so you don't overstimulate them or affect their burgeoning tastes/opinions with your reactions. We're...a work in progress.

And finally, Ru's started making "m" sounds this week, which means she's saying "mama" and "mom" -- not with any understanding, of course, but still. It's a gigantic checkmark in the plus column, as far as I'm concerned. I didn't even realize how much I'd been wanting to hear it until I actually did. Goosebumps. When she says it and actually means it, one of these days? I'm done for. I tried to videotape her saying it, but of course she stopped as soon as she saw the red light on the Flip cam. But here's the "m" face, just for kicks.

She's been saying "dadadadada" for weeks now. It was my turn.

*****

Finally, I was reminded by my friend Bill of something I always find interesting: the realization that you're the only person you know who doesn't (or does! it works both ways) like a particular something, and how strange that can feel. This post reminded me that I really didn't enjoy The Time-Traveler's Wife, a book that's held dear by a lot of people I know. In that spirit, here are a handful of other things I feel I'm *supposed* to enjoy. And it's not that I actively dislike any of these, now that I think about it -- it's just that I really don't get the wild enthusiasm they seem to inspire in those close to me:

*The Wire (sorry, Boy Chris)
*Battlestar Galactica (sorry again)
*Andrew Bird
*gardening
*I'm going to have to stop right here, since LOST finally started. Speaking of which, I bet LOST is on some of your own lists, and you're already sick of hearing about it all over the Interwebs, at the water cooler, and so forth. But be warned: You're the only ones I'll be talking to tomorrow, if I don't stay awake until the bitter end.

Until next time...xoxo.

the great rice cereal experiment**

2010-05-15T08:36:00.000-07:00

I need to point out the H&R Block bib, which my mom brought up with a bunch of other baby clothes on one of her visits. It says "I am A new Tax Deduction," which is true and fantastic. But I cannot get over the random capitalization. If anyone can explain this to me -- is there some kind of tax law or financial reasoning I should know about? -- I'd be forever in your debt (see what I did there, with the financial pun? I'll be here all night; tip your waitress, etc.). Because, as it is, I spent half of this meal delighting in my daughter eating like a big girl and the other half wanting to take a red pen to that damn bib. A copyeditor's brain never gets a day off.

**Full disclosure: These pictures are from Day #2 of rice cereal feeding. They came out much clearer than the pics from Day #1, when we were more involved with "helping" Ruby eat than recording the moment. You understand.

snippets from sunday

2010-05-11T06:50:00.000-07:00

My first calendar-sanctioned Mother's Day (I'm a mother every single day, of course, and I've got the circles under my eyes to prove it) was truly enjoyable. Chris and Ruby let me sleep in until 7:30 a.m. (the 20-year-old me just died a little reading that) and then greeted me with cards, pretty flowers, and an even prettier mimosa. Chris got a nice shot to record the morning (with apologies for my general appearance...I'd only been awake for about five minutes):

Of course, it took a few tries to get this one right. I know those of you with kids or pets -- or, hell, anything that moves or blinks or whatever -- know the routine. Click, delete, click, delete, click...good enough. I sort of love the outtakes:

Lulu, never more than five feet from us, wanted in.

Crazy-eyed, half-headed mama; her distracted child; and the hint of a departing cat tail in the corner. A classic.

Anyway, I sure do love spring flowers. Here's hoping the cats don't notice these for a while.

Chris's parents came up for the day, which served two purposes: Chris's mom wanted to squeeze on Ruby as her Mother's Day "gift," and she and Chris's dad were game to babysit so Chris and I could go to brunch and a movie by ourselves. All week we'd been planning excitedly for our afternoon of freedom. We went to Bintliff's for the smoked salmon platter (Boy Chris) and crab cakes Benedict (moi), as well as some really tasty Bloody Marys**:

Afterward we treated ourselves to the obvious choice of cinematic diversion for the new(ish) parents who find themselves sans baby and out together for the first time in months: Babies.

We really know how to cut loose, don't we?

**For those of you who might be wondering how I managed such a boozy day as a nursing mama, rest assured that I embrace moderation wholeheartedly, and I also try very hard to time said booze intake so that Ruby doesn't get drunk off of my breastmilk. At best, she gets a really pleasant buzz. If you need any more smart parenting tips, just be in touch. I'm full of such justificat...uh, wisdom.

when the rainbow isn't enough

2010-05-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

This week my nose is waging a war against the rest of my face -- it's totally stuffed up and cloggy and making me sleep upright, which you might already know doesn't exactly promote great sleep. So hopefully you'll understand that blogging has ranked below "catnap as much as possible" on my list of things to do.

Speaking of catnaps, can I take a moment to point out how awesome Lulu is? She's such a patient cat, and she seems quite fond of Ruby. So far. Look at her letting Ru squeeze on her.

Good kitty. Anyway, here are some more photos from the last week or so with colors and/or textures I like for some reason. I've really been enjoying Roz's "Week in Review" photo series -- one of these days I hope to do my very own. Until that day, here's a poor man's version:

I found this picture on the camera, which means Boy Chris must've snapped it one morning when the sun was streaming into the basement (where the clothes go to dry). This is Ruby's candy colored array of cloth diapers, all clean and waiting to be of service. A thankless job, to be sure.

The hen planters are back! Hooray, warmer weather. I picked up some alyssum and maculata (I think) at the farmer's market on Wednesday and put them in these little guys. They cheer up a corner of the deck very nicely. Also? This is probably going to be the extent of my "gardening" for the year. When we first moved into our house, I took a sort of silly pride in NOT having a green thumb -- I honestly had never given much thought to planting and maintaining even the smallest of gardens, unless you count the tomatoes I grew on my porch in Tucson one year. Now that we've been here close to two years, I've started thinking how nice it would be to plant some flowers or veggies in whatever portion of the yard actually gets sun. But there's just no time for that right now, so containers are the way. But now that I think about it, we *did* get a hanging tomato plant. So, that counts. Vegetable garden: CHECK.

Another farmer's market purchase: fiddleheads. I've been curious about these for a while, and from what I hear they're only in season for about 30 seconds a year, so I snatched some up this week. I sauteed them in olive oil, with some kosher salt and black pepper, and served them with spicy pork chops. So proud! And...so disappointed! I wanted to like these, I really did. And yet, I did not. The taste was OK, I guess -- maybe a little bitter -- but I think the texture is what killed it for me. When I was washing them, I couldn't help but notice that the middle part looked a lot like a curled-up caterpillar, and then of course I got it in my head that I was eating bugs. God, I hate my brain sometimes.

Brighter subjects...

Here's the purple giraffe I bought for Ru's room. She doesn't have a closet, and, as you can see in the picture, her baskets runneth over. So when I read that the local Habitat for Humanity was selling (er, "adopting out") these handmade clothing trees, I wanted one. Those hooks will come in handy for holding Ruby's bibs, hoodies, bath towels, etc. Plus it just looks so freaking cute. Apparently some high school kids painted the giraffes on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, as part of a service project, which helps me feel smugly self-satisfied while I clean up my kid's clutter. Everybody wins!

Speaking of said kid, would you look at this face:

Chris said something to me last weekend about how he's going to miss those humongous cheeks when she eventually grows into a more "mature" face, and now I keep thinking about that. About how one of these days -- probably without warning -- I'll look at her and notice that her bottom lip isn't pushed out quite as far (she's had the pout since Day One!), or that her cheeks are slimmer, or that her eyebrows are darker...all these changes! They happen so fast!

I tell you what: nobody's lying when they tell you it just flies by.

elegance is learned, my friends

2010-04-27T07:59:00.000-07:00

We were treated to a spontaneous visit from the vacationing Doug and Rosanne on Saturday (originally we contemplated meeting up in Portsmouth, but they came up here instead. Why are they so good to us?). Not only that, but it was a 100% gorgeous day in southern Maine. The sun was out, the breeze was light...we even pulled the patio furniture out of the basement, which must mean we're feeling pretty confident it's spring. Or close enough, anyway.

(They're looking at Ruby, who was in her jumperoo in the shady part of the deck.)

To celebrate the lovely day, we decided to take Ruby to her first beer garden -- a big day in any child's life -- so we headed downtown to Novare Res. The courtyard seats were all covered in shade by the time we got there, though, so we decided it'd be cozier to sit indoors. And we did. Soon we were partaking in beers and cheeses and meats. Yes, please!

Ruby got thirsty too. She went for a bottle. I chose draft.

*****

Sunday was much nicer than had been forecast, so Chris and I took advantage of Nice Day #2 and took Ru to the Maine Wildlife Park in Gray, home to injured or orphaned animals (including a moose! my first!). Ruby wasn't overly impressed -- I mean, she probably couldn't even see the majority of the animals, especially when wearing her floppy sun hat -- but she seemed to enjoy getting outside.

*****

Anyway, it's Tuesday, and now I'm backlogged with all the boring chore-y sort of stuff I should've been doing all weekend but didn't. Such is life. At least there's coffee and wine. Am I the only one who still gets really excited about these beverages? Some days, I wake up and feel so grateful that coffee exists and is readily available. That's probably weird, but I don't care. My next child (ha! hahahahaha!) will be named Medium Roast (first and middle, respectively), and you can't stop me.

Oh! Almost forgot the highlight of yesterday: discovering that Countess LuAnn from the Real Housewives of New York City (a show I unabashedly love) has recorded a single called "Money Can't Buy You Class." I'm smiling just typing that. Some of you are probably rolling your eyes right now, but you should listen anyway, because this tune is delicious in its awfulness. It's also the earworm you never saw coming. I hope it brings you as much joy as it does me.

i hope i'm not jinxing things

2010-04-19T15:40:00.000-07:00

I got a lot of lovely feedback when I wrote this post about the "muck of nerves" (ha! I hoped I'd find a way to use that Lorrie Moore gem) one can become in the early months (probably years...) of parenthood. Thanks for that -- like I said, I feel like it just makes the whole process infinitely less stressful if we reveal all the frayed ends to one another. Not much is worse than feeling stressed to your absolute limit -- tired and cranky and wondering if you're messing up your own life AND that of a tiny person who relies on you for everything -- and also thinking you're the only person to feel that way.

Chris and I don't have family nearby, so for the past five or so months we've leaned heavily on each other with regard to all aspects of this parenting thing, and it's tested our relationship in all sorts of new ways. I'm delighted to report that we're still standing, closer together than ever, but also that we both talk excitedly (to each other, of course...old habits!) about finding stuff to do without each other for at least one night a week. We're finally reaching a point with Ruby where it seems feasible to rejoin the world a bit more -- to dip a toe into more socializing, more stuff that takes place outside the walls of our little home. The slowly warming weather helps that prospect, too. In the coming weeks/months, I'm hoping to possibly return to yoga or maybe find a book club that would have me -- something to help me stretch either my old bones or my muddled brain cells. Both could benefit from some attention.

Anyway, I fear even typing this in case it all goes to shit tomorrow and I have to retract it, but it feels like we've turned a real corner with Ruby in the past couple weeks. She's growing so quickly, and her sleep is improving every week as we get into more of a solid bedtime routine. It's freed up a couple hours of adult time for me and Chris at night (which usually finds us at opposite ends of the couch on our respective laptops...just how we like to roll), which feels huge. I mean, for months we could do little more than get what I think of as "light fare" from Netflix -- movies that require little to no attention or brain power, just something to rest our eyes on since (nine nights out of ten) we'd be busy trying to soothe Ruby to sleep, often until 10pm or so. Lots of bouncing, walking (no kidding: ALL of Boy Chris's socks have holes in the heels from the constant pivoting), and singing of "The Rainbow Connection" have taken place here, but it's getting so much easier. And I can't even express how grateful I am. Today I took Ru to the pediatrician to check on her three-weeks-and-counting cough (probably just some post-nasal drip), and she didn't make a peep in the car even when we got stuck in Forest Ave. traffic (there and back). And this is a child who used to scream at the mere sight of her car seat. She was so sweet -- smiling at her doctor and nurses, even letting her mama grab an iced coffee in the cafe downstairs from the pediatrician's office (a GENIUS move on somebody's part). She's getting to be more of her own person every day, and it's a pleasure to watch and be a part of it. I hope that's not too sappy. I don't know whether she's going easier on us, or we're just getting better at this, but either way it's pretty awesome.

Anyway, she'll probably reward me for this glowing praise with a night of crappy sleep, so I should go try to get some stuff done while she naps...

Oh, and PS -- I took a quick trip to Freeport for some retail therapy last weekend and cracked myself up with the ensembles I put together in the dressing rooms. Please enjoy this sartorial blunder for yourself. You'll be relieved to know I only bought the sweater (the socks, I'm proud to report, were mine already):

Yup, I've still got it. Hold your fire, Stacy and Clinton.

a (no longer) hidden gem

2010-04-18T17:23:00.000-07:00

Do you remember this post,** wherein I devoted WAY too many words to the glorious meal Chris and I had at Conte's 1894 in Rockland? Well, imagine my surprise today when we were watching No Reservations, which focused on Maine for its most recent episode, and saw Anthony Bourdain himself experiencing the amazing seafood and atmosphere of the very same restaurant. He even got John Conte to sit down at the table with him, which is no small feat.

Still, I watched with a mix of pleasure and sadness. Obviously I don't think we discovered the place or anything -- the Globe pretty much took care of that, I'd guess -- but still. It felt like such a tucked-away gem of a restaurant, and we felt so adventurous for partaking. And there it was in all its glory on our TV screen this cold, rainy Sunday. What a world. I selfishly hope not too many people saw the episode, so the secret doesn't spread *too* far. (I know, I know...then what am I doing BLOGGING about it? It's just...it was the most exciting part of my weekend. Also, I think about three people are reading this.)

**Reading that blog post all these months later, it's funny to note that I promised to name my firstborn after the lovely waitress who recorked our wine bottle for us so we could take it to-go. Even funnier is that Ruby was just starting to take root in my unsuspecting womb right around the time we were there. And over a year later, while watching this episode from my comfy couch, my five-and-a-half-month-old baby girl was "talking" away in my ear the whole time. Man, life's something. Maybe the waitress was named Ruby? Nothing surprises me anymore.

dog-earing the pages

2010-04-12T16:06:00.000-07:00

Things what are good:

***I'm reading Anagrams by Lorrie Moore, and I very much want to sit down and have a beer with her. Her writing is so smart and funny, and her way with words is so amazing it sometimes feels like a punch in the gut. Here's one of my favorite paragraphs so far:

...when I am falling asleep I am the same person, the identical awareness, the same fuzzball of mind, the same muck of nerves, all along the line. I forage through my life and everywhere -- there, there, and there -- it is only me in it, the same me, the same harmless lump, the same soggy weirdo, the same sleeping, breathing bun. Georgianne, too, perhaps, even when she's old, will be the same flanneled muffin as now, this snoring puff, this snoozy breath and heart always.

I love that. I mean, "muck of nerves"? What the hell is a "flanneled muffin"? It's nothing I'm aware of, it's gobbledygook, and yet it's incredibly descriptive. The book's full of such gems, and I recommend it highly if you get a kick out of language.

***The video monitor I scored on Craigslist a couple weeks ago:For $10, we got this not-at-all-modern contraption, which works like a charm and allows us to spy on Ruby when she's in her crib. We've got the monitor set up in the kitchen, and we call it "RuTV." It's endlessly fascinating, though I have to admit I prefer it with the volume off. Our house is a shoebox -- we can already hear every whimper and squeal coming from her room without any sort of amplification. Above you can see the classic Ruby-pre-sleep pose: sweet chubby feet in the air and a half-swaddled blanket underneath her. That's just how she rolls.

***From our Easter trip: Chris's mom's crafty versions of us in egg format. I've shown you some of the others before, but here are this year's model (we're planters!). I look forward to these every year.

***The farmer's market will be back soon, and this time we're really prepared. I've signed us up for the modified CSA program with Snell Family Farm, and I'm so excited to bring home as many fruits and veggies and plants as I can stuff in my bag. They also have a stand at their farm and do pick-your-own apples and raspberries, so we'll definitely take Ru there when the time is right.

***Last but not least, this face:
Even when I can't see it, I know it's cute:

Ruby's in there somewhere, I'm pretty sure. Now that the weather's improving, we're able to get out for more walks. We've been taking her new stroller out for some weekend jaunts to break it in; so far, Ruby seems to fall asleep within a few minutes of the wheels touching the road. I'm not complaining...

We like naps however we can get them around here.

i'll sleep when i'm dead

2010-04-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

We took Ruby on her first road trip last weekend, when we traveled to Vermont to spend Easter weekend with Boy Chris's family. The car trips went well both ways, and Ruby slept pretty solidly for her first overnight away from home, so let's call it a success. Chris and I also got to play Rock Band for the first time, and lo, we are hooked. SO fun, and the perfect outlet for any person who has managed to store the lyrics to all kinds of terrible songs from the 1980s and '90s in her brain. Ahem.

Oh man, I loved the drums. LOVED them. As I've been saying to anyone who'll listen, I fear I may have missed my calling in life.

Even though we spent a big chunk of our time indoors, belting out Bon Jovi and Nirvana, it was a glorious weekend in the out-of-doors. Ruby was a big fan of the bright sunshine.

Or not so much. Still, that's an adorable little crankyface.

*****

Speaking of the crankyface, I can hear her fussing from her crib as I write this. Like how I said "fussing" instead of "crying"? I suppose that makes me feel better about not going to pick her up and snuggle her, though only a little. It just plain sucks to hear your kid cry, but we've reached a point where it is unmistakably time to get Ruby's sleep habits in some kind of order. So here we are, trying to teach her to "self-soothe" by putting her in her crib awake but drowsy. Sometimes she falls asleep immediately; just as often, she wails when we leave the room and keeps wailing until a) she eventually falls asleep or b) we go in to comfort her. It's no fun for any of us.

Before Vermont, we had a week of mostly good-sleep evenings, and we've done OK since. Until last night, when Ru woke up every two hours until 5:00am, when she woke for the day. Sigh. We'll get there, I know. This just takes time, and a WHOLE lot of patience. Which, if I'm being honest, I don't always have in abundance. And if I'm being even honest-er, I'll admit that I've been feeling really overwhelmed -- for lack of a better word -- by life lately. I suspect it has something to do with having mostly adjusted to being back at work and getting into the swing of the daycare routine, etc. Every day is a busy one, from start to finish. This is my new normal. On good days, I feel like a superwoman for getting it all done with my wits (mostly) intact at the end of the day. On bad days, I wonder if I'll ever feel like myself again. I don't think I have full-blown PPD, though depression is certainly not new to me, and I'd guess I'm a prime candidate for this kind as well. But it feels like more of a low-lying thing -- a quiet irritation or melancholy that rushes to the surface sometimes, mostly when I'm tired or overwhelmed for one reason or another. And, you know, with a full-time job and a five-month-old baby, I'm both of those things quite often, so I'm trying not to overthink things.

But I will say that I think there's sometimes pressure on new moms (and dads too, of course) to be all bright and sunny about life with a baby, to hide those moments when you think less-than-rosy thoughts about life as a parent, or how you're doing, or just wanting to take a break for a day and spend some time belly-up at a bar like the twentysomething version of yourself. Does anybody really want to hear about the desperate sleep-deprived moments when you think longingly of the days you got to sleep as long as you wanted, drink a few too many, or decide to see a movie or go out to eat on a whim? When you feel pangs of envy toward those who can do these things? I know it's normal, but it still seems to be a bit taboo.

Becoming a parent has changed my life drastically and permanently -- and, make no mistake, wonderfully -- but at the end of the day it's still an enormous change, and one that occasionally sends my serotonin levels on a bit of a rollercoaster ride. Which is funny, since I hate rollercoasters (note to Boy Chris: you'll have to take Ruby on amusement park rides...I'll hold all our stuff and wave at you two as you fly past.).

Anyway, I'm not too worried and am just trying to gauge how I feel day by day, to make sure I'm looking out for my own well-being so I can be the best mama I can be to Ruby. As someone with a history of depression, of course I worry about what kind of genetic potpourri my daughter may inherit from me, so it's extra important that I take care of myself so she knows me as a happy, giving, and fully present mama -- the one I know I can and will be to her. And I also wanted to mention it here after reading some stuff online about other women who've not made the transition to motherhood without hitting some bumps in the road. One post I was reading made the point that it would be nice if new moms were more open about these kinds of feelings, so we could combat the "everything's perfect all the time!" inclination I mentioned earlier:

Can we start talking about this more? I don't just mean here. I mean IRL. When you see a mom with a baby, can you tell her her baby is cute and then ask her "How are *you* doing?" And then let her talk about it if she needs to? Let her know she's not the only one barely holding it together, and that it will get better, and she can and is doing it.

I like that idea. Because it *is* a huge, plate-shifting kind of life change. And lord knows nothing's perfect.

Except, of course, for my drum score on Rock Band. This mama's got rhythm, you guys. And I'm just going to get better with practice.

P.S. Ruby's stopped fussing and has fallen asleep. Hot damn! Time for a well-earned glass of wine...

mama's little prizefighter

2010-03-30T17:26:00.000-07:00

We're trying to pack as many illnesses as we can into the month of March (just one day left -- quick! I can still get polio!), so Ruby got a nasty little cold over the weekend. Look at her sad swollen eye:

It got all goopy on Saturday, so we thought we'd take her to our pediatrician's weekend clinic, but she woke up with much clearer eyes on Sunday. Doesn't she look like she was on the wrong end of a punch here? Poor monkey.

But, like I said, she showed some improvement by Sunday -- likely in honor of Rosanne's (belated) birthday. Doug and Ro were up for the afternoon, and of course we hung out at home and probably talked about little besides Ruby. Sorry, you guys. I swear we'll get more interesting eventually.

And in case there was any doubt, let it be known that Doug is indeed the Baby Whisperer. Ruby was rapt.

She loves her Aunt Roz too, of course.

Also, I got new specs. (There they are!) They're dark tortoiseshell -- they look kind of black in the photo, don't they? They're not. But they ARE nearly identical to the ones Doug's got on in the photos above, which I swear I didn't realize when I chose them. Twinsies! They're also a bit thicker than my last pair, so of course I'm all wishy-washy about them. I *think* I like them. I suspect I'll like them a lot more in a week or two, when I'm used to them. My big complaint is that they don't have the nose pad thingies my old pair did, so these slide down my damn ski-jump nose way too often for my liking. I imagine I'll be heading back to the shop to get them adjusted so they fit more tightly on my big melon. Glasses have only two real jobs: to help me see and to stay on my face. These need to work a little harder.

Anyway, speaking of Ruby's cold, she's passed it on to Boy Chris (I'm next, huh?). I should go retrieve Ruby from him so he can convalesce in peace. Or as much peace as is possible here. We're starting to slowly work toward getting Ruby on a stricter sleep schedule, but that's a post for another day. A day that includes wine and earplugs.

hold your head high

2010-03-25T15:20:00.000-07:00

I feel sort of bad because I really have so little to blog about at the moment, so I just haven't been. We had a quiet weekend (uh, four or five days ago -- timely!), followed by what's been a quiet week. Our weather's all over the freaking place -- 30 degrees and rainy/snowy, 60 and sunny -- but that's about as exciting as it's been. Oh, and Ruby's been sleeping like crap, which means I've been sleeping like crap, but I'll spare you the whining. Today.

Anyway, you guys, I hate to be braggy, but my kid is really, really cute. Proof:

You can't see it in this pic, but her onesie says "an inconvenient poop" on it (thanks, Aunt Lauren!). Here's a clearer shot:

Her expression is likely a result of her mama having hiked her damn pants up to her armpits. Sorry, sweet Ru.

Here, she models her new sunhat, which we've been fortunate enough to have to break out recently. I love the look she's got going on here. So jaunty!

Today was one of the warm and sunny ones this week, so we busted out some springtime wear (with a summer sweater, of course). I think Ruby got a kick out of her little sunsuit, and any ensemble that lets me squeeze her chubby thighs all day long is a plus.

*****

I don't want to ignore Stewie and Lulu entirely -- well, Lulu anyway. No, I kid. Kind of. It's just that Stewie has turned into a crazed foodaholic. He's ALWAYS loved food more than anything or anyone -- he once came home from Kitty Kamp (a boarding place he stayed when we went on vacation) with a ribbon for "Most Enthusiastic Eater" -- but it's reached frightening new levels. He starts screaming for food hours before his and Lulu's scheduled mealtimes, and both he and Lulu have become terrible about begging/trying to snatch food off our plates when we eat. It's getting really old. We're thinking this might be his way of reacting to Ruby joining the household -- it's definitely a method of asserting himself and making sure he's not forgotten. But I guess I wish he'd choose something less...screechy and frenetic. Why can't he be one of those cats that gets more mellow with age?

Anyway, he and Lulu are lucky they're cute. Despite my weak threats to let Stew outside (they're indoor kitties -- there are foxes out there!), he's ours until the end. However, I don't think the top level of the cat tree is really built for two...

Whatever. As long as they're quiet up there, I'll let them sort it out.

*****

One more photo for the "why I love Portland" file, too. I was on my way to get my haircut last weekend (it looks the same as it always does, of course -- no mommy cut here. Motherhood has neither tamed nor shortened my unruly mane. Though the constant shedding's definitely trying to thin it out a bit...) when I looked up and spotted this painted above the LL Bean outlet:

I walk past this every day I go to work, but somehow I'd never noticed it before. Anyway, it made me smile. And I made a mental note to try to look around a bit more -- to hold my head up -- when I'm rushing to and fro. There's a whole world out there. Though, in my defense, it's hard to see much of anything before that first big cup of coffee...

back in the saddle

2010-03-18T17:57:00.000-07:00

I think things are starting to return to normal around here, after last week's stomach ailment and my bout of mastitis that followed. Probably the less said about mastitis the better, but I can't help but feel like a survivor after the week I had. Dooce said it all when she claimed mastitis felt like someone had "sliced [her boob] open and shoved in a handful of broken glass." What's more, the pain was accompanied by flu-like symptoms that made me cry -- the red-faced, hiccuping kind of crying, not the dewy-eyed, polite kind -- at the pharmacy counter when they couldn't locate the antibiotic prescription my doctor had phoned in. It was not my finest moment, not by a long shot, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant a quicker end to that kind of misery.

By the time last Friday rolled around, I finally felt human enough to return to work, but only for a half-day since my mom and sister Lauren were arriving from Virginia in the afternoon. They were just here for the weekend, so it was a short visit, but we had a good couple days. Lauren hadn't met Ruby yet, and my mom was itching to hug on her granddaughter some more, so we spent a bunch of time hanging out at home with the Rutabaga.

My sister was on her Spring Break, so she parked herself on our couch for some serious downtime. I joined her as much as was possible. Here we are in our natural habitat:

And my mom and sister even hung out with Ruby for a couple hours on Saturday night so Chris and I could have our first solo dinner date since sometime in October. We were just a teeny bit excited.

They left on Sunday -- though just barely, thanks to a canceled flight and some nasty weather up and down the East Coast. I guess we should just be grateful it didn't come in the form of snow. It's starting to feel distinctly spring-like here, though it's definitely too early to get attached.

*****

Earlier this week I hung the print our friends Sarah and Andy brought Ruby last month. Here's how it looks hanging in Ru's room:

Night Sky Over Portland! It's so pretty, and it'll be something we can look at for years to come. Thanks again to wonderful friends. Ruby's already so spoiled, but in the best kind of way.

*****

Speaking of the kiddo, she's been super cute lately, and I've got the pics to prove it. Here are some of my recent favorites (you'll have to forgive me...I just got my computer up and running, so there's a bit of a photo backlog to get through):

(Jenny, she's losing her hair too! But it's getting lighter by the day, so I imagine she's transitioning to a blond 'do. Like her folks.)

Eating invisible corn-on-the-cob.

Drunk on milk. Or drool.

I found her a jumperoo on Craigslist a couple weeks ago, and it's been a huge hit. It kills me -- her tiny feet bounce up and down, and she grins and drools like a happy little maniac. (Thanks again for the awesome bibs, Ro! They've come in mighty handy.)

Bouncing, drooling, smiling. It's a simple life. What can I say? These are the things that get us through the week until the weekend rolls around again...

technical difficulties

2010-03-16T11:57:00.000-07:00

So, the computer with all my photos on it (and from which I send my bloggy transmissions) is currently out of commission and awaiting a new power cord -- which is scheduled to arrive sometime this week, USPS willing. I'll be back soon with more of the insightful commentary you've come to expect from me. Hold this space! xoxo

greetings from our house of misery

2010-03-08T15:12:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, Chris, Ruby, and I met Zsofi, Drew, and Baby Sammy for a lovely lunch at Flatbread. It's so nice to go out and eat food prepared by other people, and especially to share that food with friends. One of my favorite things. Unfortunately, by the time we got home, Chris was feeling a bit delicate. We had overindulged -- pizza and desserts! -- so we thought maybe his stomach just wasn't handling it well. Then, when the puking began, we decided it must be food poisoning. Ugh. Poor Chris spent a miserable day and night worshipping the porcelain god, and Ruby and I did our best to give him space. Alas, our fist-shaking at Flatbread came to a screeching halt on Sunday, when I too began to turn green, and we realized we were dealing with a stomach bug and not food poisoning after all. So, we spent a glorious weekend (for real, near 60 degrees and sunny??) stuck inside, trudging between the bed and the bathroom and wishing for death. Ruby was a champ the whole time -- maybe she knew she had to go easy on her old folks? I did some quick Googling to make sure I could still breastfeed while sick (yes), so as long as she was full and rested, she was fine. She's such a good little elf.

Anyway, we're on the mend now. But holy crap, does it suck when both parents are sick and there's a tiny baby who still needs to be looked after...it was definitely a challenge. We were wiped out last night and went to bed at 8pm, which meant I also missed my beloved Academy Awards. Damn you, poorly timed sickness! I caught up a bit online today, and watched much of the ceremony on DVR, but it wasn't the same. Still, here are my favorite looks from the night.

Anna Kendrick's dress was my hands-down fave. Also, if the local news is telling the truth, she's a native of Portland, Maine. Bonus points!

Diane Kruger looks lovely, and I wish to apologize to her for not watching our Netflix copy of Inglourious Basterds. It's nothing personal. We do it to all the films.

Finally, Vera Farmiga. It sounds like people either loved or hated this, but I thought it was bold and over-the-top in a good way, and I think she pulls it off. As crazy-eyed Real Housewife Ramona would say, "Ka-dooz." Well done.

Finally finally, is it humanly possible to NOT love Jeff Bridges? I just want to hug that man and follow him around. What a gem.

in no particular order

2010-02-28T16:20:00.000-08:00

The next time I ask you why I can't seem to lose the last few pounds of pregnancy weight, please remind me that eating peanut butter out of the jar with a soup spoon (yup, the big kind) is not helping anything. Why does it taste so good?
I really and truly like Dr. Sears's Baby Book, and the way Chris and I have parented Ruby thus far seems to align with much of the man's advice -- though this is probably more coincidence than purposeful effort on our part. Regardless, I can't help but wish he weren't such a judgmental know-it-all sometimes.
Favorite Olympian of the Vancouver games: Shaun "Flying Tomato" White. I'd like to see his private half-pipe. (That sounds kind of dirty, but I promise it's not.)
My sweet Ruby is sleeping better and longer these days. I hope I didn't just ruin that by putting it out into the universe. Be kind, universe. Mama needs her shut-eye.
It makes me happy to see Boy Chris's and my circles widening here in Portland. We've met some fabulous people and feel really lucky to know who we know. I'm fairly terrible about reaching out to people, but it sure helps to know there are such good ones here.
Being a mom makes it awfully hard to remain introverted. I tell you what: people love a baby. (You knew this already.)
I am amassing a large pile of books I don't have time to read. But I feel calmer just seeing them piled up on the dresser. Some of the to-reads: Anagrams by Lorrie Moore; Juliet, Naked by Nick Hornby; Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child by Marc Weissbluth (a bit less excited about this one); Zeitoun by Dave Eggers; Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. I'm halfway through Richard Russo's That Old Cape Magic, which I started while still on maternity leave. At this rate, I should finish it by the time Ru starts school.
Speaking of books, one of my Christmas gifts was this gorgeous Penguin Classics edition of Jane Eyre. It's so pretty, it makes me want to collect all of these decorative hardbacks. I wish my wallet agreed.
I think I like Canada's national anthem, Oh, Canada, more than my own country's. That's OK, right?
I'm already excited about the Academy Awards next weekend. I'm not really a fashion plate (unless funpants are more cutting edge than I realize), but every year I love to ogle the gowns and try to decide which ones I'd wear. My favorite from this year's Golden Globes was Zoe Saldana's (see below). I want. I'd never actually wear it, of course -- where could I wear this? But I'd hang it in my closet and gaze at it all the time.
Since the grandparents check in here, I feel like I can't end without a Ruby pic. Her favorite song by far is The Rainbow Connection, which is sung in our house approximately 85 times a day. Next time you're in the neighborhood, come by and sing a few lines with us. We'll be here.

all work and no play makes chris a dull girl

2010-02-21T14:35:00.000-08:00

Weekends are too short, aren't they? This seems especially true now that I'm back in the working world. But we've made the most of our two short days with Miss Ruby. Yesterday we took a walk in the warm-ish Maine weather -- seriously, a very weird February around here. I know I'll eat these words, and probably sooner rather than later, but it's been downright tropical for Maine over the past couple weeks. Normally Ruby's mouth freezes in a little "o" of horror as soon as the cold air hits her face, but yesterday even she was OK with being outside in the sunshine. And man, we needed it. While it was fabulous to be cozied up at home with the RuBear through all those fun holidays at the end of '09, we're all starting to vaguely resemble Jack Nicholson in The Shining. It's time for spring to think about arriving and letting us get outside a little, is what I'm saying.

Today we took Ru to our beloved Charlie's Diner for the first time, and she was a big hit. Well behaved and a charmer to the women who run the place. It was good for me and Chris, too. Nothing like being served coffee in cups bigger than our heads to remind us that we're functioning adults. It's easy to forget sometimes, in the haze that our lives have become since November. It's getting easier to take Ru places -- or maybe we're just getting braver? Either way, it's a good thing. She's coming up on four months old (good lord, how did that happen?), and it's an age I heartily recommend. Ruby seems to agree, since she's all smiles and gurgles lately. Today she really let loose with some laughs, too. Want to see? Two warnings, though: 1) Ruby's sporting some big ol' bats in the cave (i.e., boogers), and 2) my voice is still an assault on the ears. But I won't apologize this time, because the reaction I got from my kid makes it totally worth the embarrassment.

sweet friends, secret hearts

2010-02-16T16:20:00.000-08:00

Our friends Sarah and Andy came up from Boston last weekend to meet Ruby and hang out with us. Hooray for people who are willing to hold our baby!

We took our turns too, of course.

(Note: Chris is holding Ruby in his arms and Lulu on his lap. Multitasking!)

(Note: Stewie in the car seat in the background. Also, I could use a haircut. And it looks like Ruby gets her red eyes from her mama.)

Ruby appeared to be as charmed by Sarah and Andy as we always are. They also brought us a truly fantastic gift -- a large print of the night sky on the date Ruby was born. It shows which stars were in the sky above Portland, and it's so beautiful. I've already found a frame for it and will have it on the wall shortly. It's far too lovely to be anywhere else.

Anyway, Sarah and Andy are getting married this year, and their wedding is already written in my planner, circled and underlined and with stars all around it. To say I'm excited for it is an understatement. They started dating around the same time Chris and I did, and I feel like we've all gotten to grow up together, in a way. And Team Married is excited to welcome them. Not to mention, Chris and I will get to hang out in Boston with friends we don't get to see very often and celebrate love in one of my favorite ways -- with good music and an open bar. I can't wait.

*****

I'm back at work now (have I mentioned that yet?), which means I head downtown several times a week. I love Portland for a lot of reasons, one of which is that it's a genuinely quirky town. On my way into work on Monday, I saw these hearts papered on the windows and doors of most of the businesses I passed:

Turns out this is the work of the annual Valentine's Day Bandit:

Every Valentine’s Day, dozens of businesses in Portland’s downtown and Old Port districts have had their doors and windows decorated with paper hearts, and this year was no exception.

The “Valentine’s Day Bandit” made his or her way through a wintry mess overnight, leaving behind the crafty, romantic message.

After nearly 30 years, no one knows the identity of the Valentine’s Day Bandit.

I've never been a big fan of Valentine's Day myself, but this I can get behind. It reminds me of the Smile Project in Boston, which I also loved. What can I say? I enjoy cheerful vandalism.

out with the old

2010-02-11T16:03:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to report that we're near the end of our first week of daycare for Ruby and back-to-work for me, and we've all survived! I won't lie -- I'm pretty sure at least a third of Portland saw me crying in some capacity or another on Monday. It was a ROUGH day. Chris and I dropped Ruby off together that morning, though I only stayed long enough to toss her diapers and milk in the general direction of the (very understanding) woman who owns the daycare, because the tears were coming fast & furious and I wanted to be alone when the worst hit, and I also needed to move the damn car since I was blocking in another parent doing drop-off duty. (Though I'm pretty sure he cut me some slack when he saw me stumble out the front door, sobbing like Meryl did in Sophie's Choice. I wasn't very subtle.)

Anyway, on Tuesday I took Ruby all by myself and only cried a little -- this time, I made it a few blocks away from daycare before the tears came, and they didn't last long. By Wednesday, I made it all the way through with NO TEARS. It was a minor parenting miracle. Don't get me wrong -- I miss Ruby insanely and feel more than a little like I'm missing a limb as I go about my day without her right next to me. But I can see the light at the end of this tunnel. I'm actually doing a halfway decent job of getting my work done, and my coworkers are just as awesome as I remembered, so office life is going pretty easy on me. That helps a lot. (However, pumping breast milk at work? Just plain unpleasant. The less said about that, the better.)

So, yeah. Thanks for reading along as I try to wrap my head around all the changes. I realize I'm a little all over the place -- mentally and emotionally -- in my recent posts, but that's just where my head is. As someone who's moved a kabillion times and had a bajillion jobs, you'd think I'd embrace change wholeheartedly. But man, having a kid is one of those capital-C Changes that no one can ever really prepare you for. I'm just feeling my way, like everybody else.

With the new (read: busy) schedule, I'm hoping I can still make time for this blog of mine, so don't forget about me just yet. But in case you're looking for a reason to never land in this corner of the Interwebs again, my voice in the first of these videos should give you that final shove. Yikes.

same old, same old

2010-02-04T14:38:00.000-08:00

We haven't been up to anything too new or different this week, our last week at home before work and daycare begin on Monday. I'm feeling pretty OK at the moment, so that's a good thing. Ask me again on Sunday, though. No, wait. Don't. Let's just focus on the Super Bowl and pretend nothing is changing. (Go Saints!)

I think Ruby's starting to notice the cats now, or at least she recognizes them as moving objects in her growing field of vision. Here she is hanging out with Stewie.

While they were busy bonding, Lulu was plotting her eventual takeover of Ruby's room. Below, she's totally trying to decide where the food dishes would look best. (Note that Stew's already in there, lounging in the leopard cat bed. They're not daunted by Ruby's noisy crib naps, which I guess is good...?)

And here are both our neglected little buddies, sort of getting along:

I say "sort of" because this was one of those moments where it looked briefly like cat love and then quickly devolved into a ball of flying fur as they fought over the coveted couch cushion.

In news that happened a couple weeks ago but I failed to document, Doug and Rosanne came up to visit and participate in Operation: Take Ruby to a Real Restaurant for Dinner. I'm pleased to report that Ru was a wonderful dinner companion at the Great Lost Bear (she slept through nearly the whole thing), and we had a great visit as always. We're so lucky to have good friends who don't mind coming to us for the time being. Soon, we'll be better about leaving our patch of land here and venturing farther into the world. Or at least New England. Anyway, here's Ruby humoring me and Roz as we hover and chuckle at her.

Oh, and here's a picture for Gammy: your little peapod.

You can sort of see Ruby hanging onto the edge of a blanket there. She's recently discovered that she has hands, and that they can hold things and pull objects toward her mouth. She has a favorite blanket -- or one that we've decided is her favorite because she likes to yank it over her eyes and then down again. An early version of peekaboo, I guess.

She often looks surprised to find that we're still there when she pulls the blanket away from her face, even though we always are. And then she grins this huge drooly grin at us, which is seriously the best reward for doing something as simple as not leaving.

sea change

2010-01-31T07:41:00.001-08:00

I've been having crazy dreams lately, and not good ones. They're classic stress-variety dreams: wandering around a big college campus unable to find my classroom; breaking expensive things that aren't mine; Chris leaving me (though Ruby didn't exist in this particular dream...now we have a kid and he's STUCK WITH ME HAHAHAHAHA). I know why my brain is doing all of this, but still, I'd like a break.

As I've mentioned before (and often, if you've spoken to me lately), I'm gearing up for my return to work and Ruby's first days at daycare. I'm a Nervous Nellie at the best of times, and these are not my best times. The daycare providers we've chosen seem to be, by all accounts, genuinely warm and lovely people, and I have no doubt Ruby will grow to love both them and daycare in general. It's just the handover that's killing me -- the knowledge that I'm turning over the care and safety of my kid to them for eight hours a day while I report to work.

To be honest, we could probably get by on just Chris's salary, though it would certainly be tight. And of course I've given a lot of thought to how we could make it work if I were to stay home with Ru. But I've always worked. My job doesn't define me, but I'm not sure who I am without work. And I generally like my job -- not to mention my coworkers, whom I adore. I like the sense of satisfaction I get at the end of a day when I've finished something difficult. And I guess, if I'm honest with myself, that I've just never thought I'd be a stay-at-home mom and have molded myself accordingly. I don't think it's the right choice for me, at least not right now, though I'm learning to never say never when it comes to any aspect of parenting. So anyway, I'm dealing with a fair amount of self-imposed guilt at the moment, which I hope goes away after I'm back on the job and can see with my own eyes that Ruby will do fine without me during the day, and will not forget that I'm her mama just because someone else is there to give her hugs and sing to her during business hours.

Ultimately, and once we're well past this painful transition, I expect being a mama with a day job will make me happier overall, which translates to having more to offer my kid and my husband. So I'm trying to keep my eyes on the bigger picture -- that's what it's all about, right? Because I'm no longer making decisions just for myself; I have Chris and Ruby (and the cats!) in mind at all times too. Well, for the big decisions anyway. I'm certainly not dragging them into the struggle I have when trying to decide what soup to eat for lunch.

The funny part of this, at least to me, is that I'm not really the "baby" type. Do you know what I mean? I never dreamed of having kids -- I didn't even think seriously about it until a couple years ago. I don't think I'd even held an infant before Ruby was born, with the exception of my little sister, Lauren, who was born when I was 14, and also Nola, who Aimee generously let me hold even though I probably looked about as comfortable as if I were holding a block of dynamite. I'm not a natural at this. It's hard, and I learn as I go. But what's come VERY naturally is the protective mama bear instinct, the voice inside my head that tells me that only I can protect my girl from the scary things the world has in store. I know this is dumb -- her father, for one, would argue that he's perfectly capable of keeping her safe thankyouverymuch. And of course he's right. But it turns out being a mom doesn't always inspire rational thinking. It's primal and innate in a way I didn't expect, and a big part of taking Ru to daycare involves shushing that voice in my head and loosening the apron strings. Even though it feels way too soon to me.

Good lord. Now I'm just rambling, and probably contradicting myself right and left. Basically it comes down to this: I'm going to miss her so much during those eight hours a day. I hope this gets easier.

*****

Well, THAT was cheerful. Welcome to my brain! To end on a lighter note, tonight is bath night at our house. Ruby doesn't love the pre- and post-bath routine, when she's naked and/or wet, but she's really taken to hanging out in the water. We usually sing nonsensical bath songs to her, and she sits back and looks sort of happily dazed while we clean her slippery little self. It's good fun for everyone involved, plus any excuse to wrap her up in the bunny towel is fine by me.

not ready for prime time

2010-01-28T16:27:00.000-08:00

This week's flying by without much time for blog ruminating, so my plan was to post a couple of the videos we've taken recently. Alas, when I watched them, I was so deeply traumatized by the sound of my own voice that I just don't feel ready to share them with the world (i.e., put you through the pain). Maybe later, though. If I ever blog drunk.

Instead, in the spirit of my friend Randa's Fans, there's this, which makes me laugh:

For now, you've been spared. xoxoxo

miscellaneous soup

2010-01-21T13:12:00.000-08:00

When I was thinking about what to write here, I realized I had a bunch of disconnected thoughts running through my head, so I think I'll just blog that way today. Join me!

*****

So, this sucks. And this does too. Most of the time I think national politics is fascinating, even fun. This week, it's just disappointing. Really, Massachusetts Republicans and independents? This guy? With the centerfold and the daughter-pimping? Gross. And I hear big thanks are due to Martha Coakley for simply failing to show up for the campaign whatsoever. Well done, all around.

*****

In brighter news, we appear to have squared away Ruby's day care situation -- she'll be attending an in-home family center that was recommended to me by another member of a local "Maine mom" email list I joined. I finally decided to post on the email list and ask for family day care recommendations, and this place seems great. I'm still dreading February, but I feel a lot better about where Ruby will spend her time without me. Someone please remind me of this later -- how, when I do manage to ask for help, it tends to work out really well. Sometimes I just need to be prodded a bit.

*****

Ruby's "schedule" is still kind of fluid and not anything you can set your watch by, but she can usually be counted on to nap a few times throughout the day. I often fill these pieces of free time by replying to or sending emails, doing dishes or laundry, etc. But this week I've been a bit sidetracked by Alice Munro's short story collection, Runaway. The great thing about reading short stories while taking care of a baby is that they're short (the stories...though the baby is short too, I guess), so I can finish one in a sitting and still manage to feel like I'm feeding my reading habit while keeping up with the rest of the stuff that needs to be done.

Also, reading Alice Munro always has the same effect on me: on one hand, she makes me want to write, because she's such a master and incredibly inspiring; on the other hand, she makes me want to never write again, because she's already done it all perfectly, so why bother?

*****

I'm really relieved I can make some time to read almost every day, if I want to. Before I started my maternity leave, I wasn't sure what it would be like. I figured I should stock up on both DVDs and reading material, in anticipation of lots of time spent nursing, etc. Turns out the DVD viewing hasn't really happened -- fortunately the only one I bought was the first season of thirtysomething, and that's barely halfway finished. I often start the day with a little bit of the Today show and morning news, but by 10:00am Ruby and I have taken up residence in the great room -- the one with the big burgundy rug with white flowers on it that appears in about 90% of the pictures I post here. It's by far the warmest part of the house; plus, it gets such great light from the big window and skylights. It's where the Christmas tree lived, and where most of Ruby's toys and such are currently scattered. I'm writing this from the couch in the great room now, in fact. At least one cat usually hangs out here during the day, and the computer keeps me connected to the world via podcasts, streaming NPR, and so forth. It's just a really warm and inviting room, in my opinion. And a great place to read something from my stack of books while waiting for Ru to wake up and grace me with her (hopefully smiling) face:

(Thanks to Jenny for the Wilco onesie!) Ruby's a growing gal, so she's already fitting into her 3-6-month ensembles. I'm happy to see this particular one come into rotation. Ru actually went to a Wilco show in utero, so she's a big fan. My girl loves her some Tweedy.

Also in the great room is Ruby's "farm," the barnyard-themed playmat where she spends a lot of time these days.

(Thanks to Doug & Ro for the cute blue onesie she's donning in this pic!)

We've been singing "Old McDonald" to her over and over and over again, though we change the lyrics so the song's about her instead of some weird old farmer. She loves my singing, which shouldn't be a surprise to those of you who've been lucky enough to hear my sweet tuneage. I even perform some Lady Gaga for Ruby sometimes, when I'm feeling saucy. She laughs and laughs. We're good for each other, I think.

*****

Finally, we've seen tons of this stuff this week:

January in Maine = snow, snow, snow. The icicles are pretty and scary, all at once. I like that. Though I won't necessarily miss them when spring decides to roll in...

all grownsed up**

2010-01-12T12:20:00.000-08:00

Ruby's been fighting sleep today, which is really, really wearing on both of our nerves (mine and Ruby's, that is). I'm hoping this is fallout from yesterday's vaccinations and nothing more, because if this is some sort of new pattern emerging and I have to say goodbye to her usual afternoon nap, I'll definitely have to start drinking before noon.

One thing that's helping is this book recommended to me by my friend Aimee: Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott. It's a memoir of the first year of her son's life, and it's utterly hysterical and sad and filled with sentences that make me say, out loud to myself and/or the cats (I read when Ruby sleeps), "Holy crap, that's exactly what it's like!" I love that in a book. It's made me feel so normal and so not alone, which is no small feat when one spends all day in a small house with a nonverbal baby. Though Ruby's incredible and I love her beyond words, it still often feels like it's just me and the thoughts running through my head. And on days like today, that can be tough. There are so many upsetting things to think about: how I'm mostly able to squeeze back into my pre-pregnancy pants, but none of them fit nearly as comfortably as I remember; how the dishes pile up in the sink every single day, even when I can't remember an actual meal being eaten; how we live in a world that values Jay Leno more than Conan O'Brien. It can bring a person down, you know?

I go back to work next month, and though I cry nearly every time I pause long enough to think about what that means, part of me really looks forward to rejoining the rest of the world. I'll get to put on real clothes and buy coffee at my regular place and have my arms free for hours at a time. That's so bizarre and wonderful and, also, awful. Because it means that someone else's arms will be filled with my daughter when mine are not. We'll get through it, of course -- people do this every single day. My mom always worked, and look how awesome I turned out! -- but it's still going to be a big transition. So, basically, you should expect a bunch of increasingly maudlin, self-pitying posts here as we get closer to February and I figure out how to be a working mom.

I'm just kidding.

I hope.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, in the house with Ru for one more month. Here's a sentence from Operating Instructions that captures this feeling:

But right now I feel like I'm just sitting in the car with Sam, not really going anywhere, just getting to know each other, both of us looking out through the window at what passes by, and then at each other again.

So well said. My experience of motherhood is that it's sometimes isolating, often frustrating, and always surprising in a million unexpected (and mostly rewarding) ways. Which is to say, I wouldn't have missed this car ride for the world -- even if my jeans never fit the same way again.

*****

Maybe I'm getting all reflective because it's so apparent that Ruby's growing up fast. Yesterday was her two-month doctor's visit, complete with aforementioned vaccinations (which went fine...phew). Ruby's now weighing in at 12 pounds 9 ounces and measuring 23 inches long. She's in something like the 80th or 85th percentile for height and weight (I wish I'd been listening more closely instead of silently freaking out about Ru's impending shots), and her pediatrician seemed pleased. Her noggin's big too, just like her mama's! We need big melons to hold our giant brains, of course.

Ruby was mostly unphased but still tired when we got home, so she crashed in her car seat (wearing her insanely cute bear coat) for a couple hours. Look at my brave soldier:

*****

And for those following the Lulu Chronicles with baited breath, she's finally managed to park herself in every single piece of baby gear we own, except for the changing table (which she isn't allowed on, though I don't doubt she'll try). She found the bouncer and joined Ru for some downtime the other day:

But secretly she must have been eying the swing and coveting it for herself, because as soon as it was free...

Ruby doesn't mind, though. I suspect those two will be thick as thieves in the near future. They're well on their way.

*****

Finally, just a note of warning. Chris and I got a Flip video camera for Christmas and are starting to film the riveting moments that make up our life. Once I find the patience to get the videos online (read: Chris shows me how), I'll post some here for your enjoyment/mocking. Watch this space!

**Do you remember how awesome Swingers was when it came out? I'll have to revisit that movie soon and see if it aged well. Vince Vaughn kind of didn't.

christmas 2009, part deux

2010-01-05T12:10:00.000-08:00

Despite some inclement weather (welcome back, snow!), Chris's family made it to Portland last weekend for the second round of Christmas, this time with Vicki and Russ (and their sweet dog, Bailey) in attendance. On Saturday we bundled Ruby up and loaded her into the car -- no small task, really -- and headed to the hotel where everyone was staying.

Food was eaten, presents were opened, and my sweet, usually-wide-awake-around-company baby was lulled to sleep by the activity. A Christmas miracle! I still believe, Linus.

Of course, nothing lasts forever, and Miss Ruby was a bit cranky to wake up and realize she was acting as a hanger for clothes she hadn't even seen yet. Chris's sister is wildly intelligent and currently studies statistical analysis (took me three tries to spell that...mostly, when I'm around Vicki, I just try not to embarrass myself). She and Russ got Ruby the shirt below. Ruby's still working out how she feels about it:

Later in the day, everyone came to our place for dinner. Somehow Chris and I managed to take just one picture during the evening, but the one we got was a winner:

That man right there -- the one reading Us magazine, with the cover story on celebrity diets that work? He's called "doctor" in his professional life. Man, Chris and I sure know how to dumb down a room. Who wants to talk about Jersey Shore with me?

*****

So, Christmas and New Year's were lovely, but now we move onward into 2010 and try to resume normal activity. We're only a few days in, but so far there's been lots of snow blowing and shoveling (thanks, Boy Chris!)...

marveling at this face...

and trying to teach the cats what "not yours" means. Lulu, in particular, wants to use anything and everything of Ruby's. Maybe she hopes we'll give her as much attention as Ruby gets if we think she's the baby? Poor, sweet Lu. She's a wonderful animal. Which may explain why we've lost our minds and given Lulu her very own binky:

Once I saw her pick up Ruby's pacifier in her teeth and carry it across the room, I figured it might be time to step in. So we gave her this purple one, a castoff that Ruby never took a liking to. Of course, that doesn't solve the carseat issue:

I should have known that as soon as we put this thing on ground level, Lu would be all over it. And that it wouldn't take long for Stewie to covet it as well:

You know how this ends, right?

That old boy always gets his way.

our holiday haul

2009-12-29T16:13:00.001-08:00

We celebrated Christmas #1 last weekend (Chris's sister and brother-in-law will be here next weekend, and his parents will return as well, so we'll have Christmas #2 then). It was, of course, Ruby's first Christmas -- she wore special PJs sent my by mom to commemorate the occasion.

I was a little depressed about not seeing my family this year, but I was cheered up when Chris and I opened the gifts they sent us. We actually started on Christmas Eve, when tradition dictates we can each open one gift.

Boy Chris searched carefully before deciding on a gift...

...while Ruby and I hung out on the couch and waited our turns.

Stewie made himself pretty scarce, but Lulu hung out and continued to try to subtly co-opt more of Ruby's baby toys.

On Christmas morning, we were up early (as we always are) to open the rest of my family's gifts. We got lots of lovely things, and Ruby made out like a bandit. You can't see it in the photo, but the onesie in the box Chris is holding up for her says "an inconvenient poop" on it.

That's cute and all, but it barely holds a candle to my gift from my stepfather, Russ:

At long last, I am the owner of a Snuggie! I truly love it. I often have to wear it backward, since I'm nursing Ruby all the time, but still. It's fabulous.

A little bit later (and once I'd removed the Snuggie) Chris's parents arrived, and we spent the rest of the day eating, opening stocking stuffers (the rest of the gifts will wait until Christmas #2), listening to Christmas music, and -- of course -- passing Ruby around and staring at her. A fine time.

Chris's parents left early Sunday, but we're trying to hang onto the holiday spirit around here. Today a package arrived from my sister Mary Ann. It contained several gifts for me, Chris, and Ruby, but the best of all was this one:

A Raggedy Ann doll made years ago by my great-grandmother McLean, Ruby's great-great-grandmother and the source of her middle name. I cried a little when I saw it. I can't believe we've got one of these gems in our house. Ruby will have this forever, believe me. I'll make sure of that.

Speaking of Ru, she's growing so fast and becoming more of a person every day. She smiles all the time -- often I'll be feeding her or just sitting with her, and I'll look down and she'll be smiling up at me. It makes my whole day. She seems to be so much more aware of her surroundings now, and I can see her trying to focus on objects and make sense of things. On one hand, I can't wait for more milestones -- first teeth, first words, learning to crawl -- and on the other, I'm already sad about watching her change and get older. Guess I just have to get used to it.

christmas time is here

2009-12-22T16:36:00.001-08:00

It's that time of year again. We're spending some time with family and good friends...

My mama, who we'll miss seeing this Christmas, mailed her gifts to us. Behold! While we're sad we can't get to Virginia, at least our tree looks stocked and ready for Friday...

She sent our stockings too, including a brand new one for Ruby. These have been hung by the basement door with care (we're running out of space to hang things!)...

And, of course, we have our own stockings. These are merely for decoration, though. (But I did pick up some cat toys for Stew and Lulu, so they won't feel left out of the festivities)...

Ruby has a few new ornaments, one of which even bears her name (thanks Aunt Rosanne and Uncle Doug!). It holds a place of honor on the tree, right next to Darth Vader and the Storm Trooper...

So I guess we're just about ready for Santa. We've got our little elf socks on and everything...

...though some of us are still too young to understand why.

Merry Christmas, everybody! Hope you get every single thing you asked for. xoxoxo

make me smile

2009-12-17T14:45:00.000-08:00

It's a good thing you can't see the faces I was making -- or hear the voices...dear god, the ridiculous voices -- to elicit these sweet little smiles. I'm shameless when it comes to that face.

P.S. Chris thinks her face in the second pic could either be a smile or an almost-grimace. But I assure you, as the lady holding the camera, that Ruby was thoroughly amused. I'm a total riot.

summer sweater

farms & fizzy water

the long road to belfast

walk outside, it's the fourth of july

a hat for every occasion

don't you forget about me

i'm not an addict, except when i am

not ready for her close-up

always take the weather with you

tired eyes, big farts, some booze

they shrank in the wash

i ran so far away

wiggle wiggle wiggle, stop!

red carpet bagger

and the winner is

red letter day

good night, baby ruby

never too early...

baby new year

kicking santa's ass

the one in which...

a carousel of time: more photos

accentuating the positive

pass the pie(s)

*Guest Post from Mr., uh, Sweater*

hearts are made for breaking

progress report: mid-october

where've i been?

i don't mind the weather

and miles to go

shipping (bad) news

ohhhmmmmm

once when you weren't looking, i did a cannonball

vacation: all i ever wanted

list-o-mania

enjoying the ride

four for the fourth (on the fifth)

always a lumberjack

too hot for a summer sweater

the more things change

a good book to chew on

i once was lost

the great rice cereal experiment**

snippets from sunday

when the rainbow isn't enough

elegance is learned, my friends

i hope i'm not jinxing things

a (no longer) hidden gem

dog-earing the pages

i'll sleep when i'm dead

mama's little prizefighter

hold your head high

back in the saddle

technical difficulties

greetings from our house of misery

in no particular order

all work and no play makes chris a dull girl

sweet friends, secret hearts

out with the old

same old, same old

sea change

not ready for prime time

miscellaneous soup

all grownsed up**

christmas 2009, part deux

our holiday haul

christmas time is here

make me smile

Guest Post from Mr., uh, Sweater