Gargoyle

What up, home skillets?

So guess what? We're having a baby. And you already knew that. BUT this last weekend we found out if that baby is a boy or a girl or an alien or something else entirely. You never know with these things, and I'm sure the Ithaca air and endless winter doesn't help my case in a positive way.

And anyway, before our appointment, we asked Viv if she thought the baby in mommy's tummy was a girl or a boy. Every time we ask her she's been saying "girl" with a big smile....but when we asked her that day, she said "goyle!". I assumed she meant girl but you know...it could be two-year-old speak for Gargoyle...

Which is exactly what we're having!

Let me clarify: we're having a BOY! Not a girl. And not a gargoyle...you know, in case you were confused.

We are, of course, excited and happy and very grateful that he is looking healthy and developing well. I was not surprised at all that this alien fetus was in fact a boy...because I just knew it (I also felt like viv was a girl).  I'm thinking I should take up water witching or baby witching or something, because I obviously have a gift of calling genders correctly in myself and other people too. Weird, I know. Don't be too jealous. Dale really wanted another girl...and he swore this one was a girl (just like he swore Viv was a boy). He sucks at this game. Wishful thinking, methinks.

After buying a cute little outfit and a bunny to match his sister's, we headed to get pizza to celebrate.

And this....well, this is Dale's way of announcing to the Instagram world that we are in fact, without a doubt, having a boy. It was delicious.

Also, we're taking baby name suggestions. We have no ideas...zero. zip. nada. Our names right now consist of McBeard, Bartholomew, Andy Bernard and Henry The Eighth. It's not pretty.

So here's to you, little man. May you look just like your mother just to piss your dad off and have a name a Cornellian would be proud of.

what saturdays are made of

With being almost-two-years-old comes lots of responsibility to suddenly become as reckless and as imaginative as possible.

With being fully potty trained day and night, we decided to move Viv into a big girl bed just for the heck of it...and it's been going surprisingly well. Until yesterday when she found crayons in her room and spent most of her nap time coloring her walls.

So, crayons. I can deal with that. Easy to clean off, Viv helps me wash the walls this morning, we talk about how coloring on walls is not ok, coloring on her new bed is definitely not ok, yada yada yada, she gets it. I think.

5 minutes later, Dale and I are talking in the kitchen, when out of the corner of my eye, I see a sheepish Vivian quietly sidle up in the doorway, lean against the wall with her head down and her eyes flitting up to look at me through her bangs...it's the look she gets when she knows she did something wrong and she's in trouble for it. So I look at her and see a blue permanent marker...with the cap off....marker all over her arms, clothes and face. I motion to dale and we both die in silent fits of laughter. Viv is still hiding in the doorway, waiting for us to notice her, and her head is still downcast. It was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen, given the forbodeing feeling of doom I had...because, obviously. Permanent markers and a quiet toddler are never a good combination.

So we ask her, "Vivian, what happened?". She replies with a very sincere and wide-eyed "uh-oh". So she pulls our hands into her room to show us the blue permanent marker all over the wall we just washed, all over her little rocking chair, a teeny tiny scribble on her new bed, a huge scribble in the hall and door outside her room, and marker all over her art table and chairs.
I mean....
talk about quick damages. And for a girl who has never colored on the walls before....It's like an overnight transformation!

Her looming two year old-ness  is what I'm blaming this destructiveness on, along with her sudden need to spit on things when she's mad, throw things when she doesn't get what she wants, and collapsing flat in full-fledged meltdowns when I tell her she has to walk with me in the store.

In the last week or so, she has been pushing her limits to the max...and I'm like.......
SHIT.
Toddlers.
WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY?????

So, albeit maddening, today has been hilarious. Honestly, I really don't care if she colors on the walls because we can clean it. And I really don't care if she ruins everything because I'm pretty sure I don't have anything nice. With the bad stuff comes the good. And it is really good.

Good like an unsolicited, hour-long baby obsession this morning which included covering her baby and bunny up with blankies so they could take a "nap" and telling me to "sssssss!'

Good like picking out books from the bookcase, showing them to the baby, saying "dis un? no?", putting it back and trying another one until the baby was satisfied with the right book. She would then sit that baby in the bed and read her books while showing her the pictures.

Good like feeding them "ilk" and "duice" and making little sucking noises (what??)

     

Good like wiping their noses, saying "peeeeee!" and taking them potty on her potty seat while she sits on her stool and waits for them to be done, at which point she wipes their bum and claps for them.

Good like she swaddles them in blankies, gives them hugs, rocks them and pats their heads/bums/faces until it's time for a nap again.

Rinse and repeat about 50 more times.  Her imagination is just another thing that blossomed overnight. I can't complain about this 2 year old thing too much yet. And this big sister act is killing me.

LOVE WEEK: healthy neck meat

I find it quite hilariously ironic that my scheduled Love Week post for yesterday was supposed to be about a healthy body...and then I got the stomach flu from hell instead and couldn't lift a finger.

Touche, body. Touche.

Today  Yesterday was the exact day one year ago when I had that big surgery on my neck, removing a herniated disc and getting a bone graft taken from my hip, a metal plate and four big screws in my spine. That was fun.

And I know, I know. There are tons of you guys who have lots of surgeries way worse than this one, blah blah blah, I know.  But I feel quite strongly about the fact that if you have had something big happen to you, you can complain, exaggerate and talk about it as much as you want. You earned it.

I talk about my neck brace days fondly in tandem with an exaggerated amount of drama, because mostly it was terrible, but there were some great things about it that still really make me laugh. It was something I will never forget, mostly because my situation was just so pathetically pathetic you could only laugh about it and the experiences that were borne from it were so originally hilarious that I can't even believe they really happened.

 Like that time my friends threw me a neck brace party, in which they all wore neck braces to dinner. That one takes the cake.

 Or when my husband would try to do my hair for me because I couldn't lift my arms above my head.

 Or the amazing countdown chain my friend made for me with great quotes, mostly from Parks and Rec.

And the time baby Vivian looked like Darth Vader.

So today, a year from my surgery, I just want to say how much I love bodies and how thankful I am for mine -- that it healed itself perfectly, that I feel almost 100% back to normal, and although I don't think I'll ever be able to do "extreme sports" like the doctor said I would be able to (DAMN IT! no more hang gliding/bull chasing/roller coasters! df*&%#jdsh!!), I feel pretty good about where I'm at.

A year ago I was pretty mad at mine for throwing such a crappy curve ball my way...but it was a blessing in disguise. Because if not, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to wear this:

Or take 80's glamour shots like this:

And I wouldn't have had the opportunity to get hit on by some random guy 8 months later via email. With his neck brace. Using his neck brace as a pick up line (picture of himself..in neckbrace...shirtless, included. no charge. Except for me to return the favor). Incident inspired by this photo below in this very serious, non-sarcastic post.

That really happened. This picture exudes all kinds of serious sexiness. He actually asked me for a picture in my nude neck brace (a phrase I coined, btw)...in the nude....8 months later. As a consolation prize to his neck brace days of woe. I mean, was this guy desperate or what?! Maybe I would have participated if I was actually still wearing a neck brace...

I put this crazy interaction on Facebook and everyone told me to put Dale in my neck brace with a his shirt off, holding a gun and send that to the perv...and I would have obliged. I just left my two neck braces in Utah. Damn.


Here's to one year., my little neck meat. Let's make it a healthy, gym-going, baby-having, non-neck brace one.

*You can check out all of my neck brace/surgery days here
**Follow the rest of love week here and let me know if you're doing it too!

Love Week: Viv & Me

The annual installment of LOVE WEEK is upon us!

loooooove weeeeeeek.

For those of you new around here, Love Week is a little blog installment I stole from a cool friend and decided to make it my own. I will be posting things that I love throughout the week, all the way up to D-day (or V-day. Whichever you prefer). You can see my past Love Week posts here.

Truth be told, Love Week usually helps get me through the doldrums that are February. And this year it seems the doldrums are drowning me in a quiet stillness of DEATH. February sucks in New York. Anything good that NY has going for it is ruinedby the months of January and February and March. I hate them with a seething passion. Negative degrees, indoor insanity, straightjackets, mental hospitals and the like. It's all happening now.

Basically, the only thing that's keeping me sane (and driving me insane, coincidentally) is my little sidekick Viv. So Love Week officially kicks off in honor of her.

I get a little sad when I think about the era of the Viv-and-me duo coming to a close. I think everyone goes through that a little bit. I have loved this one-on-one time with my baby girl, and not until recently did it begin to dawn on me that it wouldn't always just be me and her...that it would never again just be us. Because from here on out, whether we have 2 kids or 7 (HA! that will never happen, people.), my life is going to continue to get more and more hectic, and I will have less and less hair, and more and more zits, and less and less time. All in the name of family, which I can't complain about too much....but still. It will be different. 

So Viv, this one's dedicated to you, my girl. An ode to our partnership and stuff.

I love that she loves to cook with me. Anytime I'm at the kitchen counter, she pushes a chair over and demands to help. It's one of my favorite things we do together, even though it makes a huge mess. I love to see her bright mind develop-- she's such a smart little whip with an attitude to match. It amazes me to see how smart she is and how much she understands, even though she can't talk much yet.

The words she does say though...well, those are hilarious. Lately, she's been giving me sass, teasing me all the time. I'll ask her, "Viv, will you come give me a kiss?" "NO!" So I say, "Why not?" She replies "tuz!" (which in translation is cuz...or because.) I have no idea where she got it, but it's dang cute. She also says "I don't know" with great clarity and her favorite words are those with a k/ck sound in them. Truck, clock, chocolate, pancake, duck, book, skeleton, etc. Of course she can say treat, poop and pee since those words largely make up our daily vocabulary lately. She says "lellow" for yellow and purple (which I think is her favorite color but I can't quite tell yet). She says lots of other words too, and it is amazing to see how much her vocabulary expands and what she picks up on a daily basis.

   

I will miss our quiet afternoons of naps and puzzles and books. I'll miss our store runs and gym time and pizza lunches at Ned's. I love that we have girl dates basically every day and have the most hilarious conversations ever. I wish I could remember it all forever.

I love the challenge of teaching her how to be a decent human being--how to discover and set free the unique spirit and personality she was born with.  It's a daunting task, to learn who your child is and guide them into discovering what they are and who they will become. To see--and love-- your child for who their spirit is, and not who you want them to be or what you think they should be, is the challenge of parenthood. It's exciting and overwhelming and scary and all of those other emotions. But seeing such a raw, new spirit emerge from a tiny body is such a miracle that I feel blessed to be a part of.

Mostly, I love the type of person my Vivian challenges me to be. Because she is patient and sweet with an overwhelming child-like love and unmatched forgiveness, that's what I try to be like too. Even when I lose my patience after a hard day and yell and make her little lip quiver with sadness, she is always there, giving me a hug and a little kiss, pulling my hand to the couch so we can color or read her three favorite books 5 million more times. I will always cherish this time we get together and the things I learn from her.

I love you my sweetheart. I'm glad you were my first.

*Love Week continues all week (naturally). Let me know if you're doing it too!
**all pictures taken by my talented friend Melinda, who just is cool enough to offer doing stuff like this. Thanks girl.

Oh...BTW

So...

We're having a baby! ANOTHER one....

We are crazy. that's all.

I'm 16.5 weeks along, and I have barely been sick at all. I feel  great, I'm huge already (yay for 2nd baby bodies) and we are excited. Since I already know what baby kicks feel like, I swear I've felt this little alien kickin' around for a couple weeks now. I love it-- it's my very favorite part about pregnancy. I almost forget about the random nosebleeds, too-early heartburn, having to pee 5 times at night and the crazy vivid dreams I have when I'm knocked up.  As for Viv, she points to my belly anytime she hears the word baby...and usually wants  to lift up my shirt. in public. I'm really excited to see her as a big sister. Gets my ovaries working in overdrive and I'm already pregnant.

This baby alien is due July 22nd and we should be finding out if we're having a girl or a boy or an actual alien in about 3 weeks! We will be somewhere that is not Ithaca for an internship, so this baby will be born somewhere cool (cross your fingers for Cali) . Dale is like...kind of excited. Like FREAKISHLY excited. I'm still getting used to the idea, because I like to take my sweet time. Also: SLEEP. Viv is such an easy age right now and I'm sleeping like a king. Why did we mess this up?! Babies and hormones and a sexy husband are all really weird combinations when they get together like that.

As a rule, I have NOT forgotten the hell that was the first 6 months of Viv's little life. I have not forgotten how much I hate newborns. I have not forgotten the stretch marks (because by some stroke of luck, they're still there). I have not forgotten how magnificent my boobs get (because, HELLO).  I have not forgotten the sleepless nights and the body image issues. I have not forgotten how much I forgot how to do this.

But what I am most looking forward to? I'm actually gonna enjoy it this time around. I was a crazy, planning psychopath with Viv. I hardly had time to enjoy her because I was so obsessed with getting it RIGHT. And now...well, I'm gonna lay on my couch cuddling with that sweet baby in a generic onesie and let Viv watch movies in her underwear all day long. I'll love on both of them as much as I can, and we'll eat cake and be lazy and happy and all of that stuff.  I'll get through the endless nights and longer days and be more patient with the crying and appreciate the mundane. Because now I know that not only is it worth it, but I know that they only stay little for such a short time, and I want to enjoy it. I'll figure the rest out later.

In other news, Viv is officially potty trained! I mean, WHAT?! She's 22 months old, and she basically potty trained herself. Crazy right? It's been awesome. She rarely has accidents anymore, sleeps through her nap and the entire night without accidents and she tells me or anyone else she's with when she needs to go...and she's quite insistent about it. And it's damn cute too.

We quit diapers cold turkey and I LITERALLY have not touched a diaper in 3 weeks. I mean....My life cannot get better right now #momlife.

I have to say though, It wasn't as hard or scary as it sounded at first. It may be due to the fact that since we're inside our tiny apartment 98% percent of our lives and Viv is naked 97% of that time, a naked, 4-day stint of potty training wasn't that much different in the grand scheme of things. I'm just glad it's over with.

Also, ever since baby alien + potty training collided, Viv has been looking like a literal grown up. It's crazy. 2 going on 16, with a popped hip (of her own doing) and a little top knot (of my own doing) and a graphic tee (of Old Navy's doing). I love this little stinker.

This January I've been really focusing on just living in the moment. I purposely didn't make any resolutions because, quite frankly, I hate them. I just did them because everyone else did...which is stupid. I hate them. So instead I have a focus for my year (it's not a resolution ok? just work with me here).

That focus is for me to become more present, more unplugged, and more positive. I want to enjoy my days with my little toddler turning into a grown up. It's going by too fast. I want to live in every moment of it (well...almost every moment. Because tantrums.....no.) But really. I want to remember these times. I want to put down my phone, spend quality time with my family, relish this dwindling one-on-one time I have with my little mischevious sidekick and then welcome another crazy kid into the mix. I want to reconnect with my husband and find ways around our crazily busy separate lives. I see the guy when find my place in the crook of his arm at night and he's already snoring...school does that to you. But with all the ins and outs of a stay at home mom life and a really busy, hard working and accomplished graduate school goer and a crazy toddler who tends to steal the show, it's hard. It just is, and everyone who's anyone knows that.

The trick to this crazy life is to squeeze it all in and make it meaningful. And mostly it's exhausting and I hardly have the energy to plan one more thing. Be that as it may, I'm hoping for some stroke of energizing energy and focus on my focus for the year.

that includes making more cinnamon rolls. And cinnamon bread. and homemade bagels and schmear. (a dead ringer indicator that I'm pregnant is my reaffirmed obsession with carbs. Cereal, bread, butter, pasta, cookies, cake and all other forms of carb life. Also strawberries. and Claussen pickles. and peaches (not together).)

And now we're done with the random rantings of a hangry pregnant lady. I forget it's almost dinner time and I've missed 2nd lunch and first dinner