BSM: Sleep -- I wish I could get more of it

I promise I will write a proper blog soon, but for now, it's easier to post a photo. Here's Eli, crashed out on the floor. He fell asleep there the other day, which has never happened before. Cute, huh?

Happy Monday, friends.

BSM: Never too late for bendy straws

I know, it's 7 pm already, but it's still Monday, and I just wanted to post my new fave photo for my Best Shot Monday. I was playing around last week, feeling the need to attempt to photograph (somewhat artistically) some everyday things -- other than Eli, who is still the most prominant everyday thing in my life. But, you know what I mean. So, this was kind of a fluke shot, but I thought it was cool, so I am sharing my bendy straw art. Yay for bendy straws. It's like a little accordian in each one, and you can just go back and forth, back and forth -- as many times as you want. I mean, when you're bored and you have nothing else to do. 'Cause that happens to me a lot, you know. Right...

Anywho, Happy Monday! I promise, the tilting uterus is coming. Soon. Like maybe tomorrow.

loving ingrid

Accidentally deleted the other video from yesterday's post, so here it is again...

My sister turned me on to her CD "Girls and Boys," and I am loving it. You might recognize this song as the Old Navy Sweater Commercial Song. So cool.

I'll be back later to talk about my tilting uterus and Eli's fear of moths. But in the meantime, enjoy the song! It makes me smile.

chatter (from within the walls of our unsold house)

Well, I had grand aspirations (as I sometimes do) of writing another whimsical, loving, over-the-top gusher of a post for our boy on the occasion of his second birthday, and damn it, I just didn't. It was going to be mushy, too. We had four house showings this weekend, among the other normal exhaustions, and I just didn't do it. We did have cupcakes, however, which our neighbors and their three adorable kiddos joined us for (thanks, guys!), and we took Eli to the children's museum in downtown Houston for the afternoon, which he was quite freaked out by at first, I must say, but after we saw fit to take him away from the ginormous robot made out of junkyard telephones, he was fine.

And as if by magic, now that he is the ripe age of two, he talks much more and seems to have sprouted at least a foot taller overnight. I guess that could just be our imagination. But he definitely wants in on our conversations more, which these days are mainly made of up lamentations over not having sold our house yet and how we are out of coffee creamer, which is the case this morning. But his interjections make our conversations better and make us forget that we are adults with adult responsibilities, especially when he says, "Ma-ma, Da-da, I lwovve you" and "Wait," finger poised in the air, "be back," running away to tend to an obviously very important matter. And -- he says his own name: Ah-ny, and bangs his chest proudly. And all of this makes us lose our defenses and parentalness and grown-up-ed-ness and needs to have the carpet remain unstained -- and we simply love him with everything we have. And then, he pours his juice on the carpet.

::

Did I mention we have no coffee creamer? Skim milk in coffee looks like some scientific mixture of water, water, and a little bit of something brown. I'm going to dump it down the drain right now. I will have to find alternative means of caffeinating myself today. Maybe I'll spring for a Starbuck's on the way to my gynecologist appointment.

two...

...ain't so terrible after all. More photos and scoop from us very soon, I promise ;-)

my new favorite tune...

and the rest of the album ain't too shabby either. listen and go shake your groove thang...

gored in pamplona

We didn't get the contract.

And the weather sucked today.

And Eli only napped for twenty minutes and didn't go to bed until almost ten.

I didn't eat as much junk food

But we are still depressed

and

tired

of

cleaning.

BSM: all heart

Well, it's been a great while since I posted a BSM, and I really want to get back to it, ya know. Picture This, the blog Tracey used to sponser BSM through is no longer, so BSM has moved here to her other blog.

Here's an artsy fartsy pic from a mother-daughter session I did this weekend. She was 7 and such a little diva ;-) She and her mom both wore furry boots and coats, and they looked fabulously girly. I'll be sharing a few more pictures from that session soon. It was my last Texas session ;-( I am very eager to get the business going again once we are settled in Maryland.

Anywho, hope everyone had a happy Monday. We are still awaiting news of a contract. If my fingers cross any more or any tighter, I will have permanent nerve and joint damage.

winning in pamplona

Each day is another small victory for us. If we manage to keep the house clean and derive some selfish pleasure from the day, like watching TV in the evening or mindlessly surfing the net or (gasp) reading, then it is a victory of epic proportions. Translation: It is damn hard to sell a house and wipe a 2-year-old's butt at the same time. But we are doing it and only have minor wounds to show for it.

Today we found out that we may possibly have a contract coming to us tomorrow or Tuesday. We had an open house today and had two families who were both interested in the house. Our hopes are already orbiting a distant moon, but we are still trying to keep it real, even though, if it doesn't happen now, we will be d.e.v.a.s.t.a.t.e.d. Yep, someone will have to pick up our limp bodies from the stained carpet in our living room.

In toddler news, Eli will be 2 soon and has decided that he wants to have a go at the potty. He tells us, "Poo poo," which either means (a) he just did it or (b) he's about to do it -- but by the time we get him to the potty he either doesn't have anything and doesn't do anything or he's already done the deed. I know, it's all very confusing. Tonight, for about ten minutes, he alternated between sitting on the toilet and flushing strips of tissue down the toilet and then we had to chase him around the house for at least five minutes to re-diaper his butt. I think we're making progress.

A couple of closing remarks:

The amount of junk food I have consumed today is criminal. I just wanted to unburden myself of that.

And -- how 'bout them Giants?

the return of the friday funnies: this one's for you, jill

About a month ago, my good friend Jill asked me for a few family recipes because she was helping to prepare Christmas dinner. One of the recipes I gave her was my grandmother's famous shrimp dip, on which I have made myself ill (in a good way) many a Christmas. Anyway, the recipe calls for PET milk, to which Jill, who is from Minnesota, responded, "What the hell is pet milk?"

I guess it's a Southern thing.

So, here you go, Jillie, straight from our backyard dog.



My mom sent me this can to mail to you, but we needed it this morning for coffee cream because we were out, so you get the virtual version instead. I'll pack a can when we move back up to Maryland and deliver it in person ;-)

Finally, here's a hoot of a video I saw this morning on Amy Wenzel's blog. Hilarious. Watch out for those cooties. They'll get ya.

Happy Friday, friends...

our 15 minutes of fame

A couple of months ago my friend and photography partner Sara photographed us (and I did the same for her lovely family). Check us out on her blog (we're the header!) and on her website (Eli made the front page). I haven't been organized enough to share more of the photos from our session, but I'll be doing that soon. Enjoy!

keepin' it real

Someone told me recently that I share too much on my blog. These weren't the exact words (I don't remember precisely what they were), but the suggestion was definitely that I write too many personal things. Hmmph. Well, for a minute, as I usually do when I feel criticized, I thought, whoah, is this person right? I immediately turned the comment inward and began to analyze me and what I had done and whether I was, in fact, airing my dirty undies, or, worse, daring to provide my view of things, however trite and unimportant it may be in the grand scheme of the universe and all its complex grandeur.

The more I thought about it, the more I began to nudge myself to actually consider that, perhaps...now here's a shocker...perhaps, the comment had more to do with the person who made it than with me! Gee wilikers, will revelations never cease? It's amazing to me that it has taken me nearly 30 years to realize and understand that criticisms of other people are 99.98754321% of the time NOT ABOUT THE PERSON ON THE RECEIVING END. Imagine that.

So, anyway, to make a somewhat long self-analysis short for you, my dear friends who are telling me to 'just get on with it already,' I've decided that no, in most if not all cases, I have not shared too much. In fact, to the contrary, I often feel like all I talk about here is a mindless pile of crud (except for the triumphs and tribulations of our child, of course, which are all precious to me). And, mindless crud piles are okay once in a while, but in a lot of ways it just doesn't make sense to continue writing here if I'm not going to be more honest. And that means several things. It doesn't mean I'm going to talk about how much I weigh, which will n.e.v.e.r. be a number written here, sorry. It doesn't mean I am going to divulge things about my marriage that would truly hurt or humiliate my husband (except for the occasional photo of him in certain compromising positions, such as eating sushi whilst wearing a very fluffy pair of rabbit ears). I will also not compromise friendships or other relationships by sharing any information that is told to me in confidence (unless you tell me you're gonna kill someone because, come on, even priests have to fess up for that one). Ummm, let's see. Well, enough with what I won't do because I haven't done any of it anyway.

I will talk about my emotions, and if people are uncomfortable with that or think that it's dumb, then, um, you don't have to read my blog. And it won't hurt my feelings. Really.

I will talk about my child, and how much I love him and how nuts he makes me, so if you don't like kids or are sick of reading about mine, again, there's plenty of other stuff to read on the web, especially about Britney Spears and her kids, which is way juicier than my life anyway.

I will post lots of pictures of my kid and a variety of other things, including some artsy fartsy stuff that some people may not get/understand/appreciate, because I like that, and it's my blog, and again, you can always look the other way ;-)

I might talk about politics and religion, which is something I really haven't done before and is probably pretty dangerous, BUT I feel like I have a lot of questions about both of these subjects lately, and writing about something always helps me to understand it better than forcing it to remain swirling around in my very chaotic head.

I might attempt to talk about fashion again because I haven't lost all hope yet that one day I will be stylish. Heh, heh. I realize this won't be one of my more profound topics, but I'll do it the day after my 'Politics and Religion' posts...or maybe I will include it in my discussion of p & r and call it WWJW (What Would Jesus Wear?).

I'll probably share recipes. Ha, ha. If I ever cook again. Just kidding. I cook, really. It's just not been very impressive lately. My poor husband and child.

Oooh, and I might use some slightly offensive language because it's fun and makes me feel like I am using the English language to its full potential.

Whew. Allrighty then. There you have it folks, some groundrules for me for 2008 ;-)

Other thoughts that I have about renovations here at my blog are that I will merge my photography blog with this one for now. I can't keep up two blogs at the moment, and I don't really know if I'll ever be able to do it, so we'll see how it goes, but I really want to share more photography-related things other than pictures of our beloved boy. Don't know what exactly that means yet, but maybe it will be photos from sessions I do or projects I decide to challenge myself on. Don't hold me to that, though...our life is madness right now with all of the details of our move, and I don't think it's going to subside anytime soon. What I would really love to get back to is photographing the everyday stuff: you know, the paint cans in our hallway, the mac and cheese from lunchtime still stuck to the floor at dinnertime, the size of our daily laundry load, and the many other beautiful things that surround me ;-) Did I mention the highlighter marks on our granite countertops?

I also want to write less more often because this kind of mother.of.all.posts is what results when I blog in my head for weeks at the grocery store, on walks, etc. and then decide to actually record it here. I'm trying to spare you, people.

I will also try to use sarcasm more sparingly, as I have recently admitted to myself that I use it to hide certain emotions, which I realize, while not completely healthy, is more innocent and less life-threatening than [insert wreckless behavior of choice].

And, by god, I will make a new header [hanging my head in shame].

And, now, this entire post seems pretty stupid and pointless as I am about to press the publish button, but I'm too tired to edit and not ashamed enough to erase the whole thing, so I guess it's going to go out for all to see. Here's to more honesty in 2008, even if it's stupid and pointless at least once a week. I can live with that. I mean, it's not like I'm going to tell you what I weigh. Really, I'm not. Nope. Never. Never. Never.

Now, that's so childish, isn't it?

my new favorite photo

belated resolutions

I've already failed at one of my '08 resolutions, and that was to blog everyday. Stop laughing. Why do I even admit these things in public?

Resolutions. Smesholutions.

Actually, I do have some, but I'll get to those later.

So, happy 2008. Gosh, I really thought we'd be flying around the solar system by now in Jetson-esque space buggies, but I guess that'll be next year, right? If you're like me, in the 90s, I thought that with the turn of the millenium, everything would be space-age, but, really, I'm using the same kind of can opener I used in college. Maybe I'm just a sucker for antiques.

We are finally back at home after two weeks of visiting family and friends in Louisiana. For a girl who cherishes her solitude and doesn't really enjoy lots of hubbub, I have to say, it was, overall, a nice time (which did include me getting a massage and facial with my sister...h.e.a.v.e.n.). However, living out of a suitcase is only tolerable if you are in an exotic locale. You know that, right? And, god, we forgot to pack our pillows again. But we did get lots of help with the kiddo, which was a nice break for us, so we appreciated that and thank the grandparents and aunts and uncles...tremendously. Except now, our child has forgotten what entertaining himself means. So, I will have to re-introduce him to that art.

Shaun is in Maryland, working this week, and my sister arrived today to help me with Eli, which is a relief, because in case you didn't understand what I meant by our toddler forgetting how to self-entertain, then I will put it this way: today, he was a tyrant -- he being my beloved child that I swoon over at night as his eyes become heavy and he releases me from responsibility for at least 6 hours. Yes, he was a tyrant, and I don't feel guilty for saying it. Because I love him, of course. But, if we're being honest here, he drove me absolutely freakin' N.U.T.S. all day. And if he reads this when he is a father, he will know what I am talking about.

So, my resolutions...the short list, at least. And, yes, I am old enough to know that I will probably not succeed at most of them, but let's think positively, shall we? At least until February.

1. To be more honest in all my relationships.
2. To be more spontaneous.
3. To be more generous.
4. To be healthier.
5. To be a better listener.
6. To be peaceful.
7. To call people instead of just emailing.
8. To be kinder to myself.
9. To play more.
10. To clean the toilets at least once a week.

Well, there are more, but I'll spare you. Or maybe I won't. I'll just save them for another blog.

And, no, we haven't sold our house yet. But that's for another blog, too.

Peace in the new year. I have a feeling it's going to be a good one.

hot wheels

Well, we now are parents to the COOLEST toddler on the block because he is the proud owner of a smokin' hot candy-apple red Schwinn Roadster trike. And, I must admit, she's a beauty. I wish I had one, third wheel included.

Santa came early because we are leaving tomorrow to spend the next couple of weeks in Louisiana with family and friends -- BUT, fear not...the bike will have a cozy place in the back of our Subaru because Eli will not let us leave home without it. I think he wanted to take it to bed tonight.

I don't know when I'll pop back in, so I'll wish all of you a peaceful and enjoyable holiday right now. But, I'll be back with various and sundry reflections on the season that makes us all wish our jeans had velcro instead of zippers.

Merry Christmas to all, and check out the kid on his trike. Lots more photos on Flickr, too!

talks of santa

the kid is funny

we're two for two!

This'll be a quick post, but I just wanted to share the photo we had taken this afternoon during our trip to Market Street to see Santa. We didn't think it was going to happen this year because he is very wary of Santa (or 'Tee-Ta' as he calls him), but, lo and behold, the boy came through for us. We did have to take about 5 shots right beside him before we could jump out of the frame to get one of just him. But, seriously, I think Santa is now A-OK in Eli's world. That is, as long as he comes through with that bike for Christmas.

And, just fyi, this is not my photo. We were able to purchase the digital file taken by Santa's helpers (heh). How nice of them to share, huh?;-)

Hope everyone had a great weekend. Videos coming soon...

wheels of fortune

So, last night was a wild one. And, I wish I could say it involved, perhaps, over-imbibing or an impromptu trip to Vegas or, gosh, you know it's bad when you can't even think of anymore examples of a 'wild night.' Help me out here. Anyway, yes, it was wild, and it involved two mostly exhausted adults and one small, but restless toddler sandwiched between them -- all in a not-so-large queen-sized bed. Wild, I tell you. So wild that I will have to give you the abridged version because I am tired from last night and I want to go to sleep. But I want to write. So here's where I usually say 'screw it' and sell out for sleep, which explains the recent blog drought.

I digress. Which is another reason I don't write more blogs. Because instead of getting right to the point, I drone on about what I am about to write about, like I'm doing now. So, about last night...

Eli woke up before we even went to bed. It really sucks when that happens, you know, because we usually put him down 8ish (which involves the ritualistic storytime, songs, soothing, and all of us usually dozing off in the bed together), then we wake ourselves up so we can have like an hour of togetherness to remind ourselves that we still exist, which is sometimes followed up by having a drink (or two) to forget that we exist, or at least that all the annoyances of the day do. And, then, you guessed it...then, we are ready to sing ourselves a song and put our tired asses to bed. So, you can imagine how much it sucks when this ritual is interrupted (no, derailed) by a child waking after he has already been sent to that wonderful mattress behind bars we call dreamland. Yeah, well, it does suck, okay. But only really initially and then finally, if that makes any sense. The in-between part tricks you into thinking it will be okay. The beginning sucks because you're like, crap, I was just about to go to sleep, but then you get over it and you think, okay, they're only young once, and it is really sweet to snuggle and spoon and to watch their little nostrils flare as they breathe in and out, content to know that you are holding them and that they are warm and safe in YOUR bed. And it really is sweet, and you even go so far as to think, gosh, we should do this every night, at least until we have another kid. And you snuggle closer and press your cheek against theirs and bury your nose in their neck. And, then, just as you are about to doze off with a huge smle on your face (your husband is already sleeping, no, snoring, by the way, and has been since two seconds after your plopped the kid in between the two of you)...THEN, THEN, the kid starts to thrash about (eyes closed and, sort of still sleeping, which is, I'll admit, slightly bizarre and a bit demonic-looking), rolling from side to side, banishing you and your already-snoring husband to the far-right and far-left kingdoms of the bed, while marking his territory with limbs outstretched farther than you thought they could go (after all, he IS only two and not even supposed to be THAT long). And then he goes through the entire routine again, this time, adding a couple of headstands and a side kick to the ribs (yours, not his), and somewhere in the middle of all the thrashing, he gets tired, and falls back asleep. Oh, and then you realize you have to pee.

:::

We had another showing of the house today. Well, let me back up...we were supposed to have another showing, so we busted tuchis to make sure the house was all shiny and freakin' sparkly, and then we don't even think they showed. Yeah. We were really happy 'bout that one.

So, all we wanted to do was sit on our aforementioned busted tuchises (?) and watch some mindless TV, but, oh, that's right, we downgraded to basic cable yesterday so we could save money to buy our damn dream house in Maryland, and the sleezy cable guy left us with 12 channels of nothing but purely frustrating FUZZBALLS -- except for the channel that broadcasts Wheel of Fortune at precisely the time when we were feeling defeated and just wanted to wallow in our defeatedness while lying on our backs and watching some TV. So, we did it anyway, and this is how the conversation went (with Eli, on the floor, lying on his back in between us, staring at the ceiling, without a doo-waa-diddy-diddy-dum-diddy-du care in the world):

Shaun: I can't believe Pat has done this show for so long.
Me: Yeah, no kidding.
Shaun: And, Vanna. What a loser. All she does is turn letters.
Me: Ha, ha (while secretly thinking that maybe I would still be turning letters too if I was a smokin'-hot 50-something).

*We stopped talking to try to solve some puzzles, most of which were lame, of course, except for the 'Before and Afters,' which I am quite amused by and quite enjoy for some odd reason. (And I would make some silly one up as an example here if I could think of one, but I just can't because I'm brainless after 9 pm.) Then, someone asks for a "T," which is, like, only the MOST POPULAR LETTER EVER on WOF, and, GASP, there is no "T," to which Pat responds, "No 'T', wow." You could tell he was shocked.

Me: Remember when the contestants got to go shopping at the end of each round? You know, with their heads swirling around in little bubbles all over the showroom floor?
Shaun: Yeah, and they would say, 'I'd like the life-size porcelain dalmation for $500, Pat.
Me: Yeah, exactly.


I think cancelling the cable was a bad idea.