Deuces

I have 1 dog, 3 cats and one caterpillar.  Where my baby went I cannot say. Hey crazy girl, This blog is about you... yet again. You are such a star and as my fingers type this along I have my foot pushing on your bouncer so you can relax while watching the Joy Behar show.  You insist on mommy doing something that revolves around you at all times and mommy takes multi-tasking to a whole new level. (I know where you got that from, so I can't complain.) So you know those cute babies that are always so blissfully sleeping while their mommies hold them while out and about?  You aren't that baby. Sure, sure, you are cute, but you do not sleep when we have guests, are visiting others or go out anywhere.   The other day, in fact, you stayed up for nearly 8 hours straight while out with friends.  You didn't complain too much, thankfully but you love watching peoples' faces when we talk.  You love when they marvel at you and talk to you and tell you how wonderful you

At night I relax. I watch trashy T.V., I chat with my mom, I fold laundry that has been patiently waiting in the dryer for a few hours (or a few days- eek) and I make lists of what I need to do, and where I need to go the next day.  I'm a lists kind of gal. I do all this while you sleep. While you are sleeping I can get so much done.   I can stretch my arms and shoulders that have been hunched over all day holding you.  It feels so nice... I can rest my toes and legs and knees and thighs that have been bouncing you all day... bliss.... I can talk and text in adult tones and use big words.... finally. But then, Suddenly, I look at the clock and more often than not I go to bed before my tired eyes tell me it's time.  Because despite all hours of relaxation that the night has to offer, I miss you. I go to bed and stare at you and wait for you to wake up for your nightcap.  Sometimes, I am so anxious to hold you in my arms I purposely shuffle loudly in the dark of the ro

When I wash my baby's dark locks I always delight in how curly her hair becomes.  And after that Johnson & Johnson session, her hair dries just like her daddy's with soft, voluminous body. Now, to be fair, daddy's hair only dries with such bounce and body when he uses certain shampoos and conditioners.  This is the tell-tale sign when daddy has been using mommy's expensive shampoo.  Daddy has tried to deny using mommy's pricey bottles, but mama knows better. I remember the first time it happened. I was sitting on the couch, waiting for my man to finish with what should have been a short shower- he's a dude after all.  After what seemed like an eternity my then-betrothed glided out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.  Now, I didn't see or hear him coming down the hall, but rather, I could smell him coming.  That sweet, honey-like essence that wafted my way.  For a moment, it was like a memory of something that I was familiar with, but I just couldn'

I stared at the man in the pinstripe leotard and had a flashback.  And as I pulled all the tendons in my neck in an effort to squeeze my abdominals for that painful crunch sesh, I smiled through the throb. I smiled because as I crunched I remembered crunching with my room-mates, following along to this very same old-school 8-Minute Abs video a decade ago. (So first off, I love the 8-Minute workout videos so laugh away if you should feel so inclined....) The girls and I would often run across the street from our college apartment to the ARC, which is the awesomest college gym at SDSU.  We would get our fitness on in the brightly lit gymnasium with waaaaay too many attractive students to ever feel very good about yourself.  The blonde-to-brunette ratio was frightening for a girl from the I.E. but that too, is a side-track from where I want to go with this blog. And so we would jog along and at some point jog back and when we came back to the humble abode we would finish off our work-

My sweet-tart, Sayler, The bald spot on the back of your head is slowly starting to fill in... it stopped growing shortly after birth when you would rub your head from side to side as you slept, whimpered, fussed, scanned the room and swayed in your swing. My little Angel, You have outgrown your newborn socks.  I just upgraded to the 3-12 month ones and they fit nicely. Although I have upgraded, I keep a pair of your newborn socks mixed in with the bigger ones.  It's a daily reminder of how quickly you are growing... and there's a small part of me that must secretly think you will fit back into them... My darling baby, You have gone from beautiful smiles to an occasional small chuckle.  I will get a full-out giggle from you in no time at all!!  Your happiest time of day seems to be morning, when you look at me or daddy and just look so incredibly blissful and joyous.  My heart warms with your smile.  I hope you will smile every day of your life. My beautiful daughter, Yo

My mother and I stood in line at the baby boutique, ready to pay for Sayler's latest threads. The saleslady with whom we had been conversing looked into the stroller at my perfect baby and asked, excitedly, "so are you going the get her ears pierced soon?" I scrunched my face and looked at the imbecile behind the counter. "No.  No, that's uh.... no, that's not going to happen anytime soon..." I responded, trying to keep my cool. The woman looked disapointed and slightly shocked.  She made a fake smile, as though that would somehow erase what had just happened. A seemingly innocuous question, indeed, but it bothered me just a little. In truth I don't feel the need to put holes in my perfect daughter's ears.  How do I know she wants them there?  How could I stand the site of holding this sweet child o' mine while she unwittingly has a hole-puncher taken to her teeny lobes? Many a George Michael fan have gone on to regret getting their own