Des had a bit of an off day at daycare. He was in a fine mood, played well with others, ate all his snacks and lunch. But the napping... oh the napping. His caretaker tried twice, but Des just cried and cried. We've been having some sleep issues recently. And coming off of a weekend always makes it worse.
Needless to say, his mood by the time he got home was less than desirable.
It had rained most of the day, but the skies finally cleared after dinner. As Des sat whining through another episode of Chuggington, I finally said, "He needs to get out and blow the stink off him."
"What, does he stink?" Tony said.
"No, he's been cooped up, he's cranky, he needs to run around in the fresh air. Blow the stink off of him."
He looked at me like I had two heads. I was shocked he had never heard this phrase. My mother must have said that EVERY DAY growing up, 'Get out and blow the stink off ya!' I assumed every mom said that. I plan on keeping the phrase alive.
As we put our shoes on, Tony said, "Okay Des, let's go outside and get that smell out."
I laughed. "It's blow the stink off!"
And as soon as we got out there, put Des down on the wet grass and let him run around the yard, he was a new boy. He was our boy.
This, my love, is what blowing the stink off looks like.
(Sorry for the skinny iPhone video. We have a flip. We should probably use it.)
Monday, August 8, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Summer Night
What a lovely night. There's a breeze wafting through the window sheers. It's nice to not have the hum of the AC in the background. I love the summer, but a cool evening is a welcome change.
Right now I'm half-watching a movie I've seen a dozen times already, my laptop on a pillow, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. Tony is in bed, finally home from a few days away for work, a long and exhausting stretch for the both of us. We don't do apart well.
Desmond is going through a rough patch with sleeping. Or not sleeping, as it were. It happens every once in a while. It will pass. It usually does within a week or two. Hopefully soon because my back is shot from laying on the floor next to his crib. Dealing with a rough patch like this alone, on top of all the other daily care taking, is draining. Then to end a tough day in big empty bed... well, I'm glad my husband is home.
Both my boys are resting quietly upstairs. I'll join them soon. And tomorrow it's back to the way things should be. Tony and I plugging away at our laptops on the dining room table as Des comes by with a train or a book, forcing us to take a needed break. I love Thursdays. I love my family.
Right now I'm half-watching a movie I've seen a dozen times already, my laptop on a pillow, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. Tony is in bed, finally home from a few days away for work, a long and exhausting stretch for the both of us. We don't do apart well.
Desmond is going through a rough patch with sleeping. Or not sleeping, as it were. It happens every once in a while. It will pass. It usually does within a week or two. Hopefully soon because my back is shot from laying on the floor next to his crib. Dealing with a rough patch like this alone, on top of all the other daily care taking, is draining. Then to end a tough day in big empty bed... well, I'm glad my husband is home.
Both my boys are resting quietly upstairs. I'll join them soon. And tomorrow it's back to the way things should be. Tony and I plugging away at our laptops on the dining room table as Des comes by with a train or a book, forcing us to take a needed break. I love Thursdays. I love my family.
Welcome to the World
Cameron James!
Born Sunday 7/31 at 5:42pm, 7 lbs (not sure of the length).
Nana holding her 10th grandchild.
Snuggly
So Des has a new little cousin who will live right down the street. I have a strong feeling they are going to be best buds, despite the fact that Des banged on the side of Cameron's bassinet in the hospital. Cam barely flinched. That's a good sign.
Proud parents, Janet (my sis and best friend in the whole world) and Nick (one of the coolest guys on the planet). That is one lucky kid.
Was Desmond ever this teenie? :tear:
I am beside myself with excitement to get to know this new little person, and to see my best friends become parents. It is such an amazing adventure. We are lucky to be a part of it.
Congratulations Nick and Janet. I love you both to pieces. You guys make beautiful babies.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Sometimes You Just Need a Day
To take a random Wednesday off, despite certain urgencies at work. To hit the road with your baby in the back seat and a couple of towels in a bag. One day to leave the laptop at home. To use the phone to take pictures only.
To splash in the waves.
To dig in the sand.
To run.
To fall.
To laugh.
To make memories.
To splash in the waves.
To dig in the sand.
To run.
Today I went to the water with my boy. He is such a beach baby, lucky for me. It was just me and him and that gorgeous ocean air. I wish days like this could happen more often. But then maybe they wouldn't feel so special.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Change
In light of all the change that is going to be happening in the next few weeks, I figured the mop on my head needed a transformation as well:
Before:
After:
This is going to be infinitely easier to maintain, especially in this ridiculous heat. And the blond is like coming home. I missed it.
More news on some big changes on the job front this week. Decisions need to be made, but at least I know I have options. Still figuring this all out.
Sorry for the vagueness. You understand.
Before:
After:
This is going to be infinitely easier to maintain, especially in this ridiculous heat. And the blond is like coming home. I missed it.
More news on some big changes on the job front this week. Decisions need to be made, but at least I know I have options. Still figuring this all out.
Sorry for the vagueness. You understand.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Road Block?
So things are... hmm. Going.
At least this guy is keeping me going.
Just to put it all out there, I'm facing some tough times at work. I know, I hate talking about work here. Isn't that Blogging 101? Don't cross the streams? Total protonic reversal, and all that. I won't go into details. But the gist is, I may or may not have a job in a few weeks. And it's stressing me out. Big time. Like, if I run my hand through my hair I'll pull out a clump, kinda stress. Also I may have lost 40-50% of my eyelashes. Needs me some falsies STAT.
Everyone's all, 'Whatever happens happens,' 'It's out of your hands,' 'Don't get stressed about things you can't control.' And I'm all puking in the corner thinking about mortgage payments and college funds and career paths and commutes from hell. They mean well. And I'm not scoffing at those words of wisdom like "You don't know my LYFE!" They're totally right. But it doesn't change the fact that I feel like I'm spiraling down a hole, grasping at the sides with my fingernails.
This could be a totally awesome turn of events. I just have no idea. And I HATE not knowing what's going to happen next. Don't ever try to throw me a surprise party or I'll claw your eyes out. If not right at that moment, then in your nightmares. It's a promise. So basically yeah, surprises aint my thing.
With this potential road block/opportunity/who-the-hell-knows, I have hit a blogging wall. I'm having trouble digesting food, never mind thoughts and ideas into words that make sense to the web.
Every once in a while I'll get a blog entry ex machina (not even the right way to use that phrase, but I love it so suck it), like finding the ring. But mostly I've been opening a new entry to stare at a blank screen for a while. Then I go to People.com and Perez Hilton. And Pinterest to get lost for a few hours looking at pretty things. Did you know that the internet is full of distractions?!
As my thoughts are consumed with work worries, anything that requires an ounce of thought or creativity is eclipsed. I'm just going through the motions. Watching a million hours of Harry Potter. Doing laundry, dishes, anything to keep my hands occupied and my mind hushed.
It's like my falling hair is clogging the sink drain of inspiration. Deep, dude. That's so something I would have written on my notebook in high school.
The good news is that Des is on a major Mama kick. Just when I need it most. Despite the aforementioned anxieties, we ARE enjoying this beautiful summer.
He makes me laugh so much. And smile like it's plastered on my face.
Ridiculous joy. Worries magically gone.
I'll try to keep you posted, as much as I can. But don't blame me for being sparse. Blame The Man, man.
At least this guy is keeping me going.
Just to put it all out there, I'm facing some tough times at work. I know, I hate talking about work here. Isn't that Blogging 101? Don't cross the streams? Total protonic reversal, and all that. I won't go into details. But the gist is, I may or may not have a job in a few weeks. And it's stressing me out. Big time. Like, if I run my hand through my hair I'll pull out a clump, kinda stress. Also I may have lost 40-50% of my eyelashes. Needs me some falsies STAT.
Everyone's all, 'Whatever happens happens,' 'It's out of your hands,' 'Don't get stressed about things you can't control.' And I'm all puking in the corner thinking about mortgage payments and college funds and career paths and commutes from hell. They mean well. And I'm not scoffing at those words of wisdom like "You don't know my LYFE!" They're totally right. But it doesn't change the fact that I feel like I'm spiraling down a hole, grasping at the sides with my fingernails.
This could be a totally awesome turn of events. I just have no idea. And I HATE not knowing what's going to happen next. Don't ever try to throw me a surprise party or I'll claw your eyes out. If not right at that moment, then in your nightmares. It's a promise. So basically yeah, surprises aint my thing.
With this potential road block/opportunity/who-the-hell-knows, I have hit a blogging wall. I'm having trouble digesting food, never mind thoughts and ideas into words that make sense to the web.
Every once in a while I'll get a blog entry ex machina (not even the right way to use that phrase, but I love it so suck it), like finding the ring. But mostly I've been opening a new entry to stare at a blank screen for a while. Then I go to People.com and Perez Hilton. And Pinterest to get lost for a few hours looking at pretty things. Did you know that the internet is full of distractions?!
As my thoughts are consumed with work worries, anything that requires an ounce of thought or creativity is eclipsed. I'm just going through the motions. Watching a million hours of Harry Potter. Doing laundry, dishes, anything to keep my hands occupied and my mind hushed.
It's like my falling hair is clogging the sink drain of inspiration. Deep, dude. That's so something I would have written on my notebook in high school.
The good news is that Des is on a major Mama kick. Just when I need it most. Despite the aforementioned anxieties, we ARE enjoying this beautiful summer.
He makes me laugh so much. And smile like it's plastered on my face.
Ridiculous joy. Worries magically gone.
I'll try to keep you posted, as much as I can. But don't blame me for being sparse. Blame The Man, man.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
What Goes Around
Tony lost his wedding ring in February 2008. He noticed it was not on his finger as he was letting Barkley out one day, and by that time he had already been to the store and shoveled the driveway. He retraced his steps, went back to the supermarket and searched the freezers (ice cream, of course). He tore his car apart. He borrowed a metal detector and searched the yard. Nothing. To say he was upset would be an understatement.
It was insured, luckily. The appraisal amount was based on the original cost. If he wanted to get the same ring, it would have been TWICE as much due to the increased cost of gold. So he just never got around to submitting the claim and getting a 'real' ring. Instead he got a $20 replacement band at a mall kiosk. Sleeping, showering, playing sports, etc... He never takes that thing off. It looks like any old ring. A plain silver band. But if you hold it in your hand there is very little weight, as if hollow.
It's just a ring, both the original and the replacement. In the big picture it's no big deal. But our bands are special. The ones we picked out together in the grown-up jewelry store, and put on each others' fingers the day we were married... those were our rings.
Every once in a while I'd ask Tony if he wanted to go pick out another one, and he always declined. I don't know if he was holding out hope that one day he'd find the original, or if it just bummed him out too much to really replace it.
This weekend we were both doing yard work. It wasn't on my To Do list, but it was beautiful out. Des went down for a nap and I wanted to be out in the air picking weeds. I started out at one end of the house and worked my way down.
This was a particularly long nap for Des. Again, I didn't have a plan for how much I wanted to get done so I just kept on going, filling 2 garbage cans along the way. When I got to the grass down by the end of the driveway, I noticed something metallic looking among the weeds and rocks.
A quarter maybe? It was dirty, faded silver.
I leaned in further... It was a ring.
Just sitting there on top of the soil. I picked it up thinking maybe Tony dropped his knock-off cheapo as he was down there earlier. No, this was much heavier. Solid and strong.
I RAN to the backyard where Tony was dumping one of my garbage cans. I threw my arms around him and said, "Give me your hand."
"I don't want to," he replied.
I was covered in filth and sweat and hugging him unexpectedly. I don't blame him for that reaction.
"Yes, you do." I put the ring in his hand.
"What is this?"
"It's YOUR RING."
"No it's not... no it's not."
He could not believe it. It took him a few minutes to be convinced. We hugged for a long time and cried. It wasn't just the rings. It's the way it happened.
3+ years of New England weather. Snow, rain, a near tornado just a few weeks earlier... Cars, lawn mowers, snow blowers. It shows on the ring. A few little dings and a tarnished finish. He doesn't think he'll get it polished. Those marks are like badges of honor.
Fake on top, real on the bottom.
He regularly wears both now. I joke that people are going to think he has sister wives. But I really think it's cute. He just loves his one wife supah extra!
Welcome back, old friend.
It was insured, luckily. The appraisal amount was based on the original cost. If he wanted to get the same ring, it would have been TWICE as much due to the increased cost of gold. So he just never got around to submitting the claim and getting a 'real' ring. Instead he got a $20 replacement band at a mall kiosk. Sleeping, showering, playing sports, etc... He never takes that thing off. It looks like any old ring. A plain silver band. But if you hold it in your hand there is very little weight, as if hollow.
It's just a ring, both the original and the replacement. In the big picture it's no big deal. But our bands are special. The ones we picked out together in the grown-up jewelry store, and put on each others' fingers the day we were married... those were our rings.
Every once in a while I'd ask Tony if he wanted to go pick out another one, and he always declined. I don't know if he was holding out hope that one day he'd find the original, or if it just bummed him out too much to really replace it.
This weekend we were both doing yard work. It wasn't on my To Do list, but it was beautiful out. Des went down for a nap and I wanted to be out in the air picking weeds. I started out at one end of the house and worked my way down.
This was a particularly long nap for Des. Again, I didn't have a plan for how much I wanted to get done so I just kept on going, filling 2 garbage cans along the way. When I got to the grass down by the end of the driveway, I noticed something metallic looking among the weeds and rocks.
A quarter maybe? It was dirty, faded silver.
I leaned in further... It was a ring.
Just sitting there on top of the soil. I picked it up thinking maybe Tony dropped his knock-off cheapo as he was down there earlier. No, this was much heavier. Solid and strong.
I RAN to the backyard where Tony was dumping one of my garbage cans. I threw my arms around him and said, "Give me your hand."
"I don't want to," he replied.
I was covered in filth and sweat and hugging him unexpectedly. I don't blame him for that reaction.
"Yes, you do." I put the ring in his hand.
"What is this?"
"It's YOUR RING."
"No it's not... no it's not."
He could not believe it. It took him a few minutes to be convinced. We hugged for a long time and cried. It wasn't just the rings. It's the way it happened.
3+ years of New England weather. Snow, rain, a near tornado just a few weeks earlier... Cars, lawn mowers, snow blowers. It shows on the ring. A few little dings and a tarnished finish. He doesn't think he'll get it polished. Those marks are like badges of honor.
Fake on top, real on the bottom.
He regularly wears both now. I joke that people are going to think he has sister wives. But I really think it's cute. He just loves his one wife supah extra!
Welcome back, old friend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
