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Month: August 2009

We painted the bedroom doors

We painted the bedroom doors

with chalkboard paint.

So we could do cool things like this:

and this:
It’s nice to have our schedule, to-do lists, and important artistic depictions of our family sleeping right where we can see them all the time.

$1,000 Could be Yours

$1,000 Could be Yours

Really.

At work we are trying to get people to make videos that showcase our products. In order to do so we are having a video contest and the winner gets a $1,000 gift certificate to UncommonGoods. Sure it isn’t cash, but think of all of the Christmas presents you could get. You would be the most popular daughter/son/mother/father/brother/sister/etc. ever. We have no idea what type of response this will generate. It could be hundreds or it could be three. I highly recommend putting something together. I know many of you are very talented and could come up with some great ideas. It could well be worth it. Wink wink, nudge nudge.As part of this campaign we put together a couple of example videos. One is of my co-worker’s dog and the other is of Simon. Currently, the dog video is getting viewed a ton more (thanks to facebook, grrrrr) which puts me at the losing end of a “friendly” competition. This is where you come in. Please go here and watch this video over and over again. We must prove to the world (and to my co-worker) that Simon is way better than a mangy old dog.

Happy Videoing.

This must be what is commonly referred to as "nesting."

This must be what is commonly referred to as "nesting."

It’s the heat of the summer. We wake up sweaty and go to bed sweaty. Our otter pop supply has dwindled to dangerously low levels. The humidity is oppressive. By all accounts I should be sitting on the couch in my underwear, sucking down otter pops as fast as we can freeze them, with all the fans we own blowing on me from various angles.

And yet somehow I can’t seem to stop moving. I’ve been mulling over all the things that have to happen before the baby is born for months and on Monday I made a list. It keeps getting longer. I can’t stop working on it. We’ve finished painting projects we started months ago. We’ve started painting projects that only crossed our minds last week. I’ve been more productive and efficient than I’ve been since . . . I don’t know when. This is probably how I should have been spending all of my time since I finished school. Our apartment would be perfect. Clean all the time. Amazingly organized.

I suppose I should live it up while it lasts. Because I can’t imagine having this kind of energy once the baby is born. Or maybe this is exactly what I need to prove to myself that I can actually do household projects without Micah looking over my shoulder to reassure me that I’m not ruining everything.

Or maybe I’m finally learning how to be a homemaker.

Nah. Probably not. That would be too weird.

Either way, time is ticking. Only two months before our lives change completely, forever, again. And I’ll be darned if this place isn’t my dream home by then.

We’re totally hippie runners.

We’re totally hippie runners.

Some of my brother’s put us onto Vibram FiveFingers. They are meant to give your feet the feeling of being barefoot without the danger of getting cut. As soon as Micah saw them it was clear he would not rest until he got his feet into a pair. We bought some on sale last night and took them running for a few miles this morning. I’ve been warned that I’ll be feeling it bad tomorrow, but I’m sure the pain will be worth it. They are supposed to strengthen your feet and teach your body to run more efficiently and I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to cut 15 minutes off my marathon time so I can qualify for Boston before I’m old and gray. Hahaha.

And to feed our running obsession even more, we got this book (also recommended by my brothers):I knew I had to have it when I read part of an interview with the author. He said, and I quote:

“We treat running in the modern world the same way we treat childbirth—it’s going to hurt, and requires special exercises and equipment, and the best you can hope for is to get it over with quickly with minimal damage. Then I meet the Tarahumara, and they’re having a blast. They remember what it’s like to love running, and it lets them blaze through the canyons like dolphins rocketing through waves. For them, running isn’t work. It isn’t a punishment for eating. It’s fine art, like it was for our ancestors.”

That sounds like something I’d like, right? We’re only a few chapters in, and it is kind of blowing my mind. These Tarahumara people are completely unbelievable to me, and yet this is non-fiction. Can’t wait to read more.

We're totally hippie runners.

We're totally hippie runners.

Some of my brother’s put us onto Vibram FiveFingers. They are meant to give your feet the feeling of being barefoot without the danger of getting cut. As soon as Micah saw them it was clear he would not rest until he got his feet into a pair. We bought some on sale last night and took them running for a few miles this morning. I’ve been warned that I’ll be feeling it bad tomorrow, but I’m sure the pain will be worth it. They are supposed to strengthen your feet and teach your body to run more efficiently and I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to cut 15 minutes off my marathon time so I can qualify for Boston before I’m old and gray. Hahaha.

And to feed our running obsession even more, we got this book (also recommended by my brothers):I knew I had to have it when I read part of an interview with the author. He said, and I quote:

“We treat running in the modern world the same way we treat childbirth—it’s going to hurt, and requires special exercises and equipment, and the best you can hope for is to get it over with quickly with minimal damage. Then I meet the Tarahumara, and they’re having a blast. They remember what it’s like to love running, and it lets them blaze through the canyons like dolphins rocketing through waves. For them, running isn’t work. It isn’t a punishment for eating. It’s fine art, like it was for our ancestors.”

That sounds like something I’d like, right? We’re only a few chapters in, and it is kind of blowing my mind. These Tarahumara people are completely unbelievable to me, and yet this is non-fiction. Can’t wait to read more.

Just some stuff I’ve been up to lately:

Just some stuff I’ve been up to lately:

Writing this post for oliofolio. It’s been something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and it tied in nicely with this week’s theme. Check it out and let me know what you think and feel free to share your own fears/worst nightmares that come with the parental territory.

Making a nursing cover. It seems like it wasn’t until Simon was practically weaned that I started seeing these around and I became quite jealous but didn’t have the time to make one back then. But now I do, so I did it. I used a tutorial from here. Micah helped me pick the fabric. And I love the tiger flannel in the corners to use as pockets (for nursing pads or whatever) as well as a to wipe the baby’s mouth with.And finally, I got my haircut again. Last week was haircutting week at our house. I cut Simon’s hair on Tuesday, Micah’s hair on Wednesday, and then a friend came over on Thursday and cut mine. I’ve given it a week and decided it is the best thing ever. The end.

Just some stuff I've been up to lately:

Just some stuff I've been up to lately:

Writing this post for oliofolio. It’s been something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and it tied in nicely with this week’s theme. Check it out and let me know what you think and feel free to share your own fears/worst nightmares that come with the parental territory.

Making a nursing cover. It seems like it wasn’t until Simon was practically weaned that I started seeing these around and I became quite jealous but didn’t have the time to make one back then. But now I do, so I did it. I used a tutorial from here. Micah helped me pick the fabric. And I love the tiger flannel in the corners to use as pockets (for nursing pads or whatever) as well as a to wipe the baby’s mouth with.And finally, I got my haircut again. Last week was haircutting week at our house. I cut Simon’s hair on Tuesday, Micah’s hair on Wednesday, and then a friend came over on Thursday and cut mine. I’ve given it a week and decided it is the best thing ever. The end.

Boy Wonder

Boy Wonder

Warning: This is a somewhat long and probably boring post about how awesome my child is. You have been warned.

The past two days Simon has been going sans diaper when we are at home in order to help with a diaper/heat rash issue that is making us all miserable. Yesterday I told him he had to sit on a blanket on the rug and then he could watch a show, just to try to contain any messes. But there have been no messes. This is because the boy has been holding out on us. He knows when he has to pee. And he will consistently sit on the potty when he has to do it. We have not been tested with any solids yet, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he has been holding out on us there, too. Punk.

I’m not sure if I am really ready to go whole-hog on the potty training thing yet, but by the end of the week he should be the proud owner of some underpants. I’ll let you know when you can start calling him “Captain Underpants” for real and in the mean time we are forking out fruit snacks left and right.And for those who are interested, the child has also recently learned:

  • the art of the front roll or somersault, as it is also called. This is no small feat considering the size of his head and the length of his legs.
  • which key unlocks which door. In fact, he routinely insists on being allowed to insert the appropriate key into all (3) of the locks that we have to unlock to get from our apartment to the great outdoors.
  • to recognize the various train stations we frequently pass through. He has recently become obsessed with going to Broadway-Nassau station and then taking the 4 or the 5 train to 14th St.-Union Square.
  • how to operate my phone. More specifically, he can navigate to the music folder and start his music set. (“Girls Singing” by Mates of State, “Say Goodbye” by Girlyman, “Fall Stories” by Girlyman, “Mama Mia” by ABBA en espanol, “(My Girl’s Got) Miraculous Temptations” by Belle and Sebastian, “Maori” by Girlyman, and, if we get that far, “Cathedrals” by Jump, Little Children.)

He also:

  • laughs uproariously when he catches a glimpse of Roscoe moving.
  • still thinks we should name his brother “Babyjuice” (although he has also considered “Babysimonjuice” and “Babywater”).
  • suddenly gets thirsty whenever he talks on the phone. The conversation is something like this: Me: “Simon do you want to talk to Grandma? Okay, here’s Grandma.” Grandma: “Hi Simon, how are you doing today?” Simon: silence. Grandma: “Are you having a good day today?” Simon: “Need drinka wawa.” The end.
  • has a goal to stack his blocks all the way to the light. I actually got them stacked about as high as my height, and Micah got them stacked about as high as his height, so maybe if we all work together we can make it happen.
  • likes to do things by himself. His favorite thing to say is, “No I dood it,” as he pushes my hand out of the way.
  • tries to dress himself, sometimes. Mostly pajamas. Mostly the pants/shorts end up as a hat and then he begs, “Take picture. Take picture.” We’re happy to oblige, of course. (As evidenced by the above photo.)
  • has rediscovered his love of sign language. We’re refreshing for the baby, of course, but also taking it to the next level. I even bought a signing dictionary so he doesn’t have to make up signs so much any more. (His sign for “moon” is the same as his sign for “April” which is the same as the sign he just made up for “bear.”)
Full of Surprises

Full of Surprises

I expected this morning to be met with tears and tantrums. Refusals to bathe, be diapered, dressed, and shod. Perhaps even a stand against breakfast. The child had two days in which his parents ignored his bedtime (once for the chance to enjoy “The Muppet Movie” at a pier on the Hudson, the other because of the %#$@ Staten Island Ferry and other joys of MTA dependency) and had suffered a major breakdown last night approximately 10 minutes before we got home from our trip to the suburban borough. (We ended up running down the road from a train station almost a mile away with Simon acting as our warning siren.)

So I was less than optimistic about our chances of getting to church on time, or of me being a very happy person by the time we finally got there. And then the child set out to prove me wrong. Never in my life did I think that he would go get a new diaper after only being asked once, or that he would request to be clothed instead of reading books, or that it would take him less than 5 minutes to find a pair of socks that were worthy of his feet, or that he would demand that I stop doing dishes and take him to church. We were out the door in record time, caught an early train, and arrived at church 30 minutes before it started. Simon sat nicely while we read books and listened to prelude music, and, as has become his habit, tried to be the first kid to the Nursery once Sacrament meeting was over. He kindly escorted his parents out the door and was full of hugs and happiness when they picked him up two hours later.

I have an idea. Let’s do that everyday.

Anagramatical

Anagramatical

For FHE the other night we decided to do some work on the “name that baby” situation. I’ve been a lot more anxious about it than Micah has been.

Me: If the baby comes early, like Simon did, we only have two months to decide.
Micah: Plenty of time. Plenty of time.
Me: (sound of my hair being pulled out of my head)

Okay, so it really isn’t that dramatic. Not yet anyway. But since Micah is a good guy and likes to humor me, he played along. We pulled out some of Simon’s blocks and decided to see if we could get anything good by making anagrams of Micah’s name (Micah Braden). I’ll let you be the judge of our success.

Not too bad. Maybe a little materialistic/commercial . . . .

Hmmm. Still working in the commercial vein, I see.

Because Simon filled the first dramaniche, of course. And you have to admit it is better than Thing 1 and Thing 2.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Nicebad. How nice, er, bad of you to join us.” I think this one has serious potential.

Because really, what were we thinking. Two kids? It’s the only explanation.

As opposed to “Craniam Hed A” of course. And also, because the sonogram says he’s going to have a big one, just like his brother.

Wouldn’t you feel comfortable being treated under a neurosurgeon by this name? That’s what I thought.
Because we didn’t have the right letters for “Lemonade” but we wanted to incorporate Simon’s “Babyjuice” idea.

I don’t really know what a “mench” is, but doesn’t it sound intimidating? And believe you me, this kid is going to need all the help he can get.

I’m sure that there will be times when I will feel as though I am chained to a beam. Or two beams.

Let’s hope not.

Reminds me of our days in Hawaii . . . yes, very nice. So picturesque.

So, which is your favorite? I’m feeling kind of partial to “A Mind Breach” myself. At least right now. Tomorrow may be a different story.