Sounds

I don't know what time it was. Early. Our baby rooster had yet to start crowing from the adjacent bedroom, and while Sam is learning to stretch his night from five a.m. to six, my biological clock is currently stuck at a quarter to six in anticipation of his quiescent cooing. The air conditioner kicked on or off. Dawn painted the walls a charmed hyacinth when the thwap of morning papers hitting front stoops travelled up and then down our street.

There is something eminently peaceful in that sound, despite the fact the headlines are rarely good and, with the advent of the internet, I imagine more people use the paper to line their bird cages than catch up on current events. There is something peaceful in that sound, despite that fact that I've seen the guy that delivers papers on our street. He's a dreadlocked Rastafarian in an El Camino like Gunpowder, the horse from 'Sleepy Hollow', all broke-down looking but with the fire of a filly lurking within, with fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror and Hulk-green neon under the chassis.

I have never professed to live every day to the fullest. Quite the opposite, in fact, as I am an unequivocal fan of wasting the occasional day away. But, to me, the sound signifies a new day with new possibilities and opportunities. Then Sam squeaks, and it's time for his five to eight mile tour of Abacoa, smiling at dog-walkers and morning roller-bladers.

Paaarrrtaaay!

Oh, yes a half birthday party was had. Complete with cupcakes, candles, and fun. We all have wicked frosting hangovers this morning. (Well, not Sam but he may have a bit of a pureed squash hangover. No cupcakes for him, yet.) If this is any indication of how the first birthday spectacular will go.......put on your propeller hats and get ready to do milk-keg stands folks it's gonna be wild!

Raising Sam.

Sam,

Today you are 0.5, six whole months. Most people say, “It seems like only yesterday that you were born.” I say, it seems like you’ve been hanging with us forever. I feel like I’ve always known you, a lot the way I felt about your dad when I first met him. You remind me of home, of the feel of warm laundry fresh from the dryer, of mom’s homemade macaroni cheese.

You looked just like dad when you were first hatched, and you still do, only now you have so many more of your dad’s great characteristics. You love music, you laugh easily and uncontrollably, you smile when you are happy, tired, mad and sleeping. You make everyone around you smile.

I can’t seem to get enough of you, I talk about you when I’m away, I peek at you while you’re sleeping and sneak away quickly when you stir. I race dad in to your room in the morning, trying to be the first to see you. When I hear you giggle, squeak or coo I just look at dad and smile. No words. None needed.

You teach me things about life everyday that I may never have learned without you. Patience, forgiveness and trust. You discover something new everyday and so do I.

I love who you are becoming. I love your two little cartoon baby teeth, your smiling eyes and your sweet, baby mouth kisses. I love your tired lollies, your goat laughs and that you want to drink out of every glass I do. I love that when we snuggle you talk to me and explain life to me in raspberries and goos. I love that you grab my finger with your little hand when I reach back in the car and that instantly calms you. I love that you love when I sing you “itsy, bitsy spider.” Even though I stink at singing and I can’t stand spiders.

I love you. Happy 0.5 Sqeeto!

Mom

Triple.Threat.

And now making their blogger debut.........Sam's, Aunt Zan, Aunt Cameron

& Uncle Mark.

(Ice cream & pizza = good bait for me to get more photography practice!)

Congratulations!

To my friends Camie & Jimmy who just welcomed another sweet boy, Aiden, to the world. Could he be any cuter? I think not!

e

SWBB seeks SSBG......

(Single White Baby Boy seeks Single Stylish Baby Girl)

24 inches, 18 lbs of pure sweet loving looking for lovely lady (non smoker, no drama) for long playdates at the park, sipping milk by nightlight, endless cooing. Loves long naps, long strolls and pureed sweet potatoes.

If you think this slipper will fit, you may be my Cinderalla.

Sam

Happy Father's Day!

From us,

To you,

and you,

We love, love, love you and wouldn't be the people we are today with out you....hell we wouldn't even be here! Happy Father's Day, Dad and Paul!



e & s

Love is....

....strapping your lil boy (still in pjs) into his car seat to drive around the neighborhood to find your soaking wet husband who is caught in a terrible thunder and lightning storm on his morning run. She even brought me a towel.

Gypsy Tears

Last weekend my brother and I took our second annual road trip up to Montauk, NY for his "summer camp" otherwise known as work. I had to leave my baby for the first time but, I knew he was in good hands with Paul(and Celeste nearby). For those of you who doubted that I would return......shame on you. I'm back! I've gotten great advice in my life but, none better than from my mom who reminded me that Sam will learn self worth from me by taking time to do things for myself. SO's I did it. We had a friggin spectacular time and laughed our asses off the whole way. Caused a little trouble and used some of the east coasts most frightening restrooms along the way. We both learned that neither of us would make good truckers because we don't have nearly enough body hair to leave behind on restroom seats, don't enjoy talking on the phone while pooing or driving with our shirts off. The following is a little glimpse into our journey.



e

Happy Birthday Hewie!

Happy Birthday Elise! We appreciate everything you do for us! Love, Sam & Paul

Guilt-Free Friday Confession

I don't know what it is about Barnes & Noble. I don't go to the book store that frequently. At least, not often enough to be as familiar as I am with their men's room.

But a recent feat has me gloating that I may very well be one of America's Most Talented Dad's. I peed. Now I'm sure that--in and of itself--doesn't seem all that impressive. But I had Sam with me. In his forward facing, Baby Bjorn baby carrier. And somehow I managed all that without getting nary a drop on his bare little footsies.

Things I'll never do (part threesie)

Dress my child up in resort wear. I'm not talking about a Yellowstone t-shirt or Mickey Mouse ears or even those Florida t-shirts you buy at CVS that look like mu-mus on little kids. That would be forgiveable. I'm talking about Ritz-Carlton and Club Med t-shirts. You might as well just hire the local bully to beat up your kid or tape a sign to his back reading 'My parents go on vacation and yours don't please kick my butt'. I know. I speak from personal experience. 5th grade. Manvel (Tx) Elementary gym. Where you had to change clothes for P.E. and shower. Naked. In front of other fifth-graders. *shudder* There I was, standing in the gym, minding my own business in a white Club Med t-shirt and some navy blue terry cloth gym shorts as children played dodgeball or spread eagle or shot hoops around me when some kid (I have no idea who he was...and I'm fairly confident he had no idea who I was at the time, either) just strolled up and punched me square in the chest, knocking the wind from my lungs, sending me to my knees on the squeaky wood gym floor, gasping for air. All he said to me was, "Club Meat!" then wham! Sadly, I remember the entire episode as though it happened yesterday.

Sandy Feet

Perfect Places

So, I’ve been going to yoga again. Don’t be fooled I am no yoga sensei (or whatever they call it), I just went a time or two B.S. (Before Sam). With all the nonsense going on in the world today and all the stresses and pressures of life, selling houses, keeping these houses spotless, trying to find a perfect job that allows me to shine creatively, being a perfect wife, raising a perfect child, and looking lovely and fit while doing it all, I’ve become a little overwhelmed. Go figure. I try, oh how I try, to sit down during the day when the boy is sleeping and relax, reflect, take a few deep breaths, etc. But, I have the unfortunate problem of never being able to relax my mind. Hell, I can’t even read a magazine to relax anymore. It just spawns a hundred ideas, then my brain takes off, and next thing you know I’m at Home Depot buying supplies to build a new bed or put up a lean-to garage so someone will buy this damn HOUSE! So I’ve found that yoga is the closest I get to clearing my mind, but not without some help.

I find that the only way I can fully unplug is to think about a certain place. Call it a “happy place” if you are so inclined. That’s a little too squishy for me, so I’ll call it my “perfect place.” This is a place I found when I was in college, when the stresses of life were high, like now, or so it seemed. I was going to school in Bellingham, Washington, which is an amazing town, in which you can stand in one point and turn around to see snow capped mountains and orcas jumping in the bay, you can be hiking in the lush green forests one hour and digging clams on the shore the next, or join a drum circle! More about that later….

After a 15 minute drive from campus I would pull out into the small gravel parking area and I would make my way to the place, slowly, weaving and winding on moss covered pathways and over small broken foot bridges, through the dense mushroom covered fallen trees. I would emerge into the sun at the lakes edge and creep through some bushes to my spot. A few huge fallen trees about eight feet in circumference who’s trunks were sticking out of the water just enough provided an ideal place for lounging. I would sit down or stand up and just breathe, and listen to the water lap the lakeshore. It seemed it was just what I needed to forget for a moment what was happening in my life. And, inevitably when I left, I left a little stronger, a little more aware of the things that were important, a lot refreshed and ready to reface the world.

The View

I feel about this retreat like I feel about 90 minutes worth of yoga. I arrive wound tightly and as I make my way to the “place” I begin to unfold until I finally reach my perfect place. After I’ve bathed in the peace and beauty and reset my priorities, I depart more peacefully.

Along the path.

The first time I took Paul home, I took him to my spot, and I plan on taking Sam there someday, too. I hope that Paul does have and wish that Sam will have a place like this to recharge. I don’t have a place like this now, though I hope to find one again soon. Until then I’ll rely on yoga and visions of my perfect place.

September 2004

Things I'll never do (part twosie)

Be the harbinger of impending parenting doom. If there is one constant in life, it is that life is inconstant. It is always changing, growing, evolving. And of course time goes faster than we want it to or think it should. In case Elise or I ever forget this, every single person we run into during the course of our daily running around deems it necessary to remind us of this fact.


Elise and I have also noticed that every parent we run into with children older than Sam feels it necessary to remind us how fast time moves and to warn us of some doom that impends from right around the corner, whether that be sitting upright, crawling, running around restaurants, sticking fingers where they don't belong or taking dad's Mini out for a spin around the neighborhood. "Oh, just wait until he ________ ! Then it's all over!" But, without fail, we reach said milestone only to discover...it really wasn't that bad. Instead of prognosticating the child-rearing equivalent of the Apocalypse, it would be a lot more helpful if these seasoned parents maybe offered a few morsels of actual advice...some bit of information that might actually be useful.


So I vow never to be that Dad, staring down a pair of dewey-eyed new parents and warning them "Enjoy it while you can...soon he's going to walk then it will be all over and you won't be able to go anywhere!" Instead, I'd rather buy them a cup of coffee...because that's all, at that point, they most likely really need.