HEELS

For Cole's first birthday, I decided to put him in the clothes he wore home from the Midwife Center. They were HUGE on him then, but I loved them so much that he wore them anyway. I had to roll the sleeves and legs (top and bottom on the pants!) just so that his hands and feet would stick out. Now look at him:


My little belly dancer. Don't you love his adorable choli? (Ignore my belly- it's the shirt. I swear!)

SOoooooo Biiiiiig!!!!!

And look! Look at this! These are the first steps we've caught on film.

Straight into Mama's arms.

Do you think I'll be able to get him into these clothes next year?

And again- today is another milestone. My little peanut butter cracker, my bubba, my pickle-butt, my preshie-pants- he be 1! One year old, and I'm feeling just wretched about it.

I think about all of the moments I have missed and they gang up and rip my throat out.

My baby. My baby no more.

All I can see in him is the little boy. His cheeks are slimming, his back is broadening, his legs aren't so bandy, his movements are so deliberate and becoming so precise. He doesn't cry like a baby, he doesn't eat like a baby, he doesn't poop or smell or sleep like a baby anymore.

It's gone, and my memory isn't good enough. Do you know that we own a video camera but have never taped him? Not ever. It makes me sick.

But he is so wonderful. As we bounced on the bed this morning singing our birthday song, I was struck with just how fabulous he is and how I can't wait to see the amazing adult he'll become.

My little boy.

Today is Cole's Birthday;
Come we all and let us sing.
Wish him health and all good things.
Today is Cole's Birthday!
~~~
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
We love you.
Happy Birthday and may all your
Dreams come true.
When you blow out your candle,
One light stays aglow.
That's the love-light in your eyes
Where-e'er you go.

I love you Cole. Happy Birthday (baby).

Today is a landmark. A Goal achieved. A Destination reached.

It has not always been easy. Sometimes it has been the hardest thing. Other times it has been as easy and comfortable as breathing. Sometimes it has been the only thing to get me through. Sometimes it's what makes it hard to keep going.

But it has always, ALWAYS, been worth it.

Ten years ago today, John and I went on our first date. This is the anniversary we hold dear- more than our wedding date or the day we finally signed our marriage papers and made it official. This is the anniversary of our beginning. This is celebrating our dedication to each other.

I like to think of this day as the first day of our next ten years. We can clean house- keeping the things we love about our relationship and trying to leave behind the petty bullshit. We'll set our new goal for the next ten years. We'll re-dedicate ourselves to each other; to our family.

John, I love you very much. Thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Cole took 5 steps all by himself last night. Yay! Big Boy!!)

This past weekend was a bit crazy. The belly dancing troupe that I'm a part of threw a festival. Though I didn't dance this time, I was still insanely busy/stressed because I ran the airbrush tattoo booth.

I have never done airbrushing before. Even though I used stencils, there was more skill involved than I originally anticipated. Before getting to the festival, the only practice I had was on paper. I didn't have the makeup and I didn't have willing bodies to experiment on.

It was kind of a disaster. It got better later in the night, but in the first few hours I messed up LOTS of tattoos (the wonderful thing is that they WIPE OFF!) and caused my air compressor to shut itself down ( I thought I had killed it).

I got help with the compressor (it didn't come with a manual- thank goodness for other people's handy husbands!), and I got practice with the gun. It was a real learning experience.

We didn't make a whole lot of money this time, but the better I get the hang of it all the more we can rake it in. I'm sure of it.

There was some really beautiful dancing. If you were in the area and didn't come you really missed out. I think we all have ideas about how it can go better next year.

I certainly am inspired to dance again. What creative, wonderful, talented people there are out there. I'm so glad to know so many of them!

I was having trouble with a printer the other day, and just about the time I was ready to put the baseball bat to it, this message popped up on the little read-out. "PC LOAD LETTER." No joke. But, instead of it pissing me off more, it just made me laugh. I called John over and made him see it, because he'd never believe me otherwise.

PC Load Letter. That's got to be one of the stupidest command phrasings ever. But now I know what it means.

I'm going to enter a picture in this photo contest . I just can't decide which. I'm going to post both that I like here so that I can see them together. Maybe I'll come to a decision before the 27th. Possibly.

This is pretty wonderful.

I wish I liked Dove products more.

After much deliberation over the amazing names offered by my creative readers (you guys are just so sexy when you're all clever like that), I have come to a decision.

I have to agree with many of you who cast votes in favor of this name, even though it was not to your advantage if you wanted to win. I appreciate all of the love you give to your fellow commenters. It's so nice to see you all being so supportive of each other. You guys play so nicely!

Anyway, I have chosen the name "Sehr Schnell" from Ticknart, though, after the debacle yesterday, perhaps I should be naming it "the Punisher." Wait... that's it! Sehr Schnell, The Punisher (that's Schnellie to you!).

Thanks to everyone who participated. I have to give special thanks to Alliya who, though joining us a bit late, gets the title for "Most non-Sequiter and 'Huh?'-inducing Tricycle Name Of The Year" for her entry of "Oprah's Couch". It was tempting, but then I'd have to think about Tom Cruise every time Cole wanted to go ride and...Uggghhhh*shudder*. No.

(Of course, Oprah's couch did have Barak Obama's butt on it yesterday. He's totally my one and only Politician Crush.)

So- Sehr Schnell, The Punisher it is.

Josh will be receiving a lovely gift as soon as I can figure out what that will be. But I swear- you're really getting something! I promise!

These are from Tuesday after the step incident.

A popsicle, y'know- for the swelling.


I've never seen a kid cry about a grape popsicle before...


Am I extra awful because I just laugh every time I see that pouty face? It's sad, but it's also just so cute.

On Tuesday I went home sick after only 5 hours at work. I didn't go in at all yesterday. Today I'm back, and Cole is definately better for it. I am clearly a hazard for my son.

My evidence? Tuesday he  was cruising around, using the edge of the couch back for stability. When he got to the tile step, he let go. Because of the graham cracker in his hand, he couldn't catch himself properly and he slammed his face into the edge of the step, busting open his upper gum (right where his new tooth is coming through) and hurting his tongue. He managed to miss his lip completely, thank goodness.

There was blood and screaming and masses of tears. He's okay, no stitches needed or anything, but I'm still reliving it.

Yesterday I took him outside on his tricycle, thinking we both could use a little fresh air. Not five minutes into the walk, he stuck his feet (clad only in socks and soft leather slipper-shoes) up against the front tire and one got sucked up underneath the tire-cover thingy, stopping the trike cold. I couldn't figure out why we had stopped like that until I heard him start to scream.

This time there was no blood, but the place on his ankle lost a couple layers of skin and I wouldn't be surprised if it ended up bruised.

So I think he's actually safer at daycare today.

I know these things happen, really I do. But just because he's going to get hurt from time to time doesn't mean I have to like it or want to be the cause.

I don't really feel any better today. My head is throbbing, my throat is sore, and I feel really dizzy. I desperately need some real sleep. Not just the hour or so that I get between the times when Cole wakes up and wants me. He stands in his crib and points at me and cries. Who could refuse that? Especially when I have the ankle and the mouth to make up for. Ugggh- the guilt. It is crushing.

Still no pictures...*sigh*...

Cole has been sleeping really poorly lately. They've been the kind of nights that make you realize how much you must love your children, because if it was anyone else you'd just have to throw them head-first into a chipper, Fargo style.

I don't know why he's been waking up so much- a pattern of night waking turning into a habit; teeth; hunger due to growth spurt; stuffy nose; hating mama and dada? It could be so many things. This whole pre-verbal stage is getting really old...

Anyway, we've been wiped. So totally wiped. Ah- the joys of parenthood!

Speaking of those joys (you might want to shut your eyes and yell LALALALALA rather than read this, but I'm writing it anyway), this morning Cole was having a poop, which I identified easily because of the grunting. I could tell it was a difficult one because he usually doesn't take long, and because the look on his face was getting more and more concerned and serious. After a few minutes, he let out a scream like I've never heard come out of him before. I thought- ah yes, I remember this from the days of living with my nephew!

I cuddled him and pulled his legs up to his belly as I walked to his room. When I took off his diaper- Eureka! The source of the problem! Just as I had surmised.

His poop, it would not come out by itself. I had to wrap my hand in a wipe and ease it the rest of the way. And then there was the blood. Oh poor baby!

But he's fine.

So yes, the absolute JOYS of being a parent. You get three hours of sleep and wake up just in time to yank poop out of your screaming child's ass. Delicious.

(Maybe you're glad there are no pictures...)
(I'm totally kidding. I would never take pictures of this.)
(I at least wouldn't post them.)

Don't you childless readers want to have kids now?!

sunShine reminds me that the hunt for a name for Cole's new tricycle is still on. It needn't be a German name (and can't we let the Germans ever live down the Nazi party, hmmm?), just something that would sound funny when we say "C'mon Cole- let's go hop on ____."

There are certainly some front-runners in the names we've already received, but I know there are more good ideas out there.

Don't you want to win something unspecified?

Well, I guess I don't get to show you all what I really wanted to, so I suppose I'll just have to tell you and save the pictures for when Blogger gets its freakin' act together (grumblemumblegrumble).

On saturday, Cole got his first real haircut. That is, a haircut from someone more professional than me who might be able to cut his hair while he's awake and not make a hack-job out of it.

We went to John's barber, a very talented woman, and John got his haircut first. We had Cole watch and we talked about having him go next. When it was his turn, John stayed covered and held Cole in his lap. Cole was very interested in what was going on around his head, but he wasn't bothered by it. We were told to expect crying, particularly when the clippers got close (the noise, not being nicked), but that didn't happen either. He was wonderful. The barber was really impressed. His haircut looks great, which I would be able to show you if I could get Blogger to post ANYTHING properly. Dammit.

We also put together the new tricycle. I tried to put it together on Friday, and I got a good way into it, until I realized that I had crimped a metal part too soon and had to try to pry it apart again. Damn, did I feel like an idiot. I was afraid that I had ruined the whole thing before we'd been able to get any use out of it. You think the cost made me sick before? Think about how I felt when I thought I had effed up so badly.

But I'm a stubborn bitch and I pried that sucker back open and made it work. Cole was able to ride for the first time on Saturday. He LOVES it. He doesn't pedal- can't even touch the pedals with his feet- but he just loves to ride and hold the handle bars. He also likes to occasionally pull on the hand brake, which is not so pleasant for whoever is pushing him. He rode the first couple of times without a helmet, but I started to feel weird about that and so now he has to wear one. It's not like he goes that fast, and he doesn't really like the helmet, but I figure it's a good habit to establish. By the time he can argue about it it'll just be the SOP- you want to ride? You have to put on the helmet. That's all there is to it.

He looks adorable, which I would also show you if I could.

In totally unrelated news, we saw a real estate agent last night and I will be meeting him to look at houses on Saturday. I have my eye on a couple of places, including one downtown that doesn't look like much from the outside, but the pictures of the inside make me think it has some potential. I'm very excited about the idea of finally being a home owner. I know a lot of other responsibilities and expenses can come with it, but I'm tired of renting. I want my own garden. I want to be able to make changes or improvements and not have to leave them when I move. And if I feel like painting my kitchen red, I'm going to paint my kitchen red, dammit! And I won't have to answer to anyone! (Except maybe my husband... Oh well.)

I've been trying to post with pictures ALL freakin' day, but Blogger is sucking more than usual. So you'll have to wait. I'm sorry. You were in for a treat of cuteness, too.

Back to another week of work. Oh how I love it. Love it.

Work sucks sweaty donkey balls.

So, in reading about this post from Beth's pro blog, I started thinking about when I found out I was pregnant with Cole.

We had tried for so long that I didn't even trust the test the doctor gave me. It didn't help that the doctor told me that I WASN'T pregnant first. They didn't let me see the test with the positive results in the doctor's office. When I got home, I pulled out the extra tests that I had been storing for use each month. I took one of the tests just so that I could SEE the proof that it had really happened this time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just a short one today. Work=CRAZYCRAZYCRAZY!!!
I'll try to catch up tomorrow/next week.

In fact, now that I think of it, we need to have a naming contest for the tricycle.

Keep in mind:
It is a German trike.
It is yellow, red, and blue.
It will have a really hott red bell.

I welcome any and all ideas. The winner will get credit, mention here (woop-de-doo!), and...something good. Also, we will always tell Cole to go out and ride "(insert the best name here)." It will be funny. It WILL!

Please go visit the Fade to Black site and buy tickets if you'll be in the area. It should be an awesome show. I mean, I'M performing- what else do you want? (Internet says: You mean besides seeing your chubby, white belly shake awkwardly under a spotlight in front of lots of people? Nothing!)

I've been told the bands will be quite good and I can attest to the skill of many of the lovely dancers. You can come out and get an airbrush tattoo from me even if you don't want to watch hot, scantily clad girls shake their creative stuff.

See you there!

In answer to the question posed by wings (Hi!), yes, Cole knows a little sign language. He understands "milk" and "eat/food." That's all we've focused on so far. I think that soon we will be introducing more. Before now, he wasn't as interested in communicating. Now it's becoming very important. I think he'll catch on fast.

This past Sunday, our friends from Humboldt and their lovely children came down to Sacramento. Because it would normally be an 8 hour drive to go see them, we jumped at the chance to only have to drive 2 hours.

We were set to meet them at about 11:30, but we have other friends in Sac that we wanted to visit with, so we left early and got there for breakfast.

The breakfast place that had been chosen is a place that is eternally busy, at least on Sunday mornings. However, last Sunday it was busier than I've ever seen it. There was a waiting list that covered a whole sheet of paper with three columns. Our name would have been the first on the new sheet of paper. Our party wasn't even there yet and, when phoned, said that they wouldn't be there for another 15 minutes.

Those of you that know me know (I hope) that I am normally a very reasonable person but that, on occasion, when I'm feeling that another party in the situation is being particularly unreasonable and inflexible, I can throw hissy fits become extremely adamant.

When realizing that the wait was going to be at least half an hour, and thinking about having nowhere to sit and the squirmy, hungry, just-slept-for-2-hours-and-will-not-take-a-nap-just-because-it-would-be-so-damn-convenient-for-mommy, 24 pound almost-toddler on my hip, I...well...I threw a hissy.

Our friends were kind enough to select another place that I thought was just fine and I hope that they were adequately satisfied, as well. I have since apologized via email.

From there, we made a mad dash to Ikea, the chosen meeting spot for our Humboldt friends.

They were lovely and witty and wonderful to be around, as always. it seemed to make no difference that we hadn't seen them in over 2 years- I was still just as comfortable and I hope that they felt the same. Their children are now humongous (not fat. At ALL. Just SO grown up!) and gorgeous and brilliant. They (the father in particular) tried to use their siren song to lure John back into academia. He, as he always will be, was tempted, but happy to tell them that he likes what he's doing right now, especially since it actually makes MONEY for our family, not DEBT (hear-hear!!). It was a great visit (and, Ikea? I love you better than ever now that I know you supply free Huggies diapers to mothers whose sons have quite stinkily pooped and can't find the fathers carrying the damn diaper bag) topped off with a sushi dinner (not at Ikea). We hadn't had sushi in a long time. We were long over-due.

(Funny side story about the poop- I was walking around Ikea with Cole in the cart and thought that I had walked into someone else' fart cloud. I was kinda sicked out and tried to move on to get away from it. But it followed us. In fact, it followed us everywhere we went. I started thinking that maybe I was farting and didn't even realize it. I started to get really concerned and a little bit paranoid when it occurred to me to sniff Cole. Until that point I didn't think at all about the fact that he hadn't pooped yet that day and that, considering he was a pretty constant factor wherever we went to get away from the stink, it could ever be him. Somebody just smack me on the forehead, okay? Now I wonder how many people around us thought it was ME farting. I may never be able to go to that Ikea again.)

This next weekend is my last weekend to shop for Cole's birthday party, considering I'm going to be so stupidly busy the rest of the month. You know those months where you look at the calendar on the first and think "Well, there goes THAT month"? Yup. I'm right there.

Cole's new Tricycle left Richmond, VA at 2:36 am yesterday and should currently be en-route to my office here in California. It is scheduled to arrive on Friday.

It seems that last year around this time I was having a similar sense of anxious anticipation for the arrival of something...hmm... Oh yeah- Cole.

On Friday the UPS truck will be giving birth to a German Tricycle. Cole is clueless, but I CAN'T WAIT!! I guess we should be thinking of a name...