February 16, 2011

Whistlin' Wednesday

B hasn't been home for supper lately, a time when Mac is typically doubled over laughing at his dad's hilarious antics. (Or sometimes, just his presence. B's a funny guy that way.)

After a few no-Daddy suppers, Mac has had to take entertainment matters into his own hands - turns out Mom is boring as all get out. Last night Mac perused a book and whistled a little tune throughout his evening meal.

I suppose I could be insulted, but I'm too impressed at his whistling skills. I didn't master whistling at one year old! (You should hear the kid "sing" too, by the way. That's another video for another day...)

February 14, 2011

Celebrity Chit Chat


Fact: Selma Blair looks fabulous pregnant. On the Grammys' red carpet, she wore a totally appropriate (age-, event- and pregnancy-wise) dress that looks comfy and flattering. Kudos to her!

Bonus fact: You know how people say everyone has a doppelganger? When you're as dark-haired and pale as I am, you hear a lot of the same names: Anne Hathaway (wouldn't that be fab!), Sandra Bullock (I'll take that) and "you know, that stupid girl from Cruel Intentions."

In other words, Selma Blair. Evidently we favored each other circa 1999, at the first bit of Selma's mainstream fame, but she wasn't a household name quite yet. Hence the "stupid girl" comment I'd get quite often after CI was released. My high school self didn't find the "stupid" part the least bit flattering. These days I'd welcome the comparison!

Fact: Gwyneth Paltrow is aging backwards.

I've been a Gwyneth fan since the 90s, when her appearances in Emma and Shakespeare in Love were at once adorable and enviable. I loved hearing her sing in Duets ten years ago especially. After taking a mommy break a few years back, she's all over the place these days: Glee, Country Strong, her insanely uppity but somehow readable Goop.*

See for yourself:

1990s Gwyneth: Ignore the arm candy and their matching pixie cuts.

Gwyneth now

The woman seems only to get more talented and more gorgeous every decade. Could it be her rarified air/macrobiotic/militaristic diet way of living? If so, sign me up. (But let me visit Chick-fil-A first!)

If you're up for a laugh, pore over Gwynnie's hairstyles from the last decade or two and enjoy the author's commentary. My favorite line: "Gwyneth wore her hair super straight...all while simultaneously contracting her abdomen muscles and silently judging you."

*I call Goop uppity because Gwyneth uses it as a vehicle to proclaim that any mom can and should lose the baby weight. While I love it we can squeeze into our pre-pregnancy clothes, I think it's a little easier for a woman with a nanny, chef and trainer to preach that message. I still heart Gwyneth, but I might not if I had four kids and no time to work out.

Happy Love Day

My favorite line from Pride & Prejudice. I really must have this frame!

B and I have never been particularly crazy about Valentine's Day. While we usually exchange cards and little gifts, I don't expect him to bowl me over with the power of his all-consuming love every February 14th. I prefer knowing much he loves me every other day of the year.

This year, more than ever, we are not going to be hearts-y people. Our schedules are plain bananas. My work life has picked up, B has a particularly busy (read: 7am to 9pm) week and Mac is just as full-steam-ahead as ever.

We'll be (separately) in and out of town and, the part I like least, won't be able to have a meal together 'til lunch on Sunday. Sad!

With that in mind, I've been wistfully thinking of Valentine's Days past and remembering the progression of B from just "Bradley" to a friend to the man he is today, my unbelievable husband and Mac's look-alike dad.

Who knew snarky e-cards quoted Jane Austen?

Seven years ago today, B and I went on a Valentine's night double date with (wait for it...) other people. I had actually set him up early that year with a sweet friend of mine and we two couples ended up sharing dinner.

Technically I suppose Bradley and I spent Valentine's Day together that year, but not in the way we would in years to come. (How we got there is a story I'll have to tell some other time...and it's a good one.)

For now I'm wishing all of you a lovely and love-filled Valentine's Day! May you know how much you're loved today and always.

I've been humming this all day, and it seems an appropriate thought on a day set aside to celebrate love:

How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure


Happy Valentine's Day, y'all! Are you showing me up and celebrating it big?

February 9, 2011

Can I Borrow Your Moves?

Would it be extra creepy for me to ask this Chinese preschooler for some hip-hop tutoring?

How sad is it that I envy the moves of a three-year-old?

Seriously - wow.

I can't decide if I want to give him a standing ovation or just a big hug. (I know, I know, that would probably be creepy, too.)



As much applause as Mac gets for walking across a room, standing, squatting and throwing a ball these days, we'd knock him over if he mimicked some of this choreography. Go, little guy, go!

February 7, 2011

A Selfish, Stolen Snuggle


A year ago this month, Mac woke during the night for the very last time. What a gift! Since last February he has slept like a champ.

I knew it would feel good to have a baby who sleeps through the night. What I didn't know, though, was how bittersweet it would be.

Along with the middle of the night feedings came snuggles, silent conversations, quiet coos and a tiny, perfect head nestled into my neck. Because he sleeps 12 hours a night, Mac crams as much activity as he can into his waking hours - leaving little (read: no) time for snuggling or even a quick hug.

Sunday night I caught a glimpse of Mac on his monitor; he was positioned awkwardly, with his chin resting on the mattress. I feared he'd wake up with a crick in his neck and decided to adjust him before I hit the hay.

I tiptoed into the nursery, tilted Mac's head to the side and, before I knew what had happened, was lifting him out of his crib, scooping him into a hug and letting his precious, heavy head fall onto my chest. It was heaven.

Macky smelled like baby shampoo and clean laundry and felt warm, snuggly and absolutely delicious in my arms. I couldn't bring myself to put him down, so I rocked him in his glider, so rarely used these days as anything besides a trampoline for our wild man as he exclaims "chee! chee!" - his version of "chair."

In Mac's world, chairs are a base camp for rocket launches and toddler leaps. In mine, they're the perfect spot for rocking sleepy babies.

Mac has never wanted to be rocked. His bedtime routine from day one was simple: feed him, change him, put him down. If he's tired, he wants simply to sleep - right away. I know what a blessing that is, but occasionally I feel shortchanged. If I can't rock Mac now, when can I?

I won't lie (and this won't shock you): I cried holding Mac that night. I thought of all the times I woke, bleary-eyed, to feed him and wondered when I'd get my nights back. Now that I have them, I'd give anything to feel the weight (considerably more now than a year ago) of my son curled up on my chest.

We rocked for ages and I prayed over every part of him, thanking God for the gift of being his mom. It saddened me to think this could be the last time I'd hold him in the middle of the night, the last time I'd really get to snuggle with my busy boy.

Sneaking into a nursery seems slightly less creepy than waking a kindergartner in the night for a hug, but it's still not something I can do forever. Mac is a heavy sleeper, so I knew he would keep dreaming in his crib or my arms. It was worth the chance either way.

When I came back downstairs, B called me a baby-stealer; he had looked at the monitor and seen an empty crib. When he asked what I'd been doing, I could barely find my voice to tell him. It felt so good snuggling with Mac on Sunday night that I might have done it again last night.

When Mac wakes in the morning, he does so full-force, ready to start the day. I barely catch a second of his cheek pressed against mine when I get him up, already wriggling to get down and play.

That's ok, though. If only for the last two nights, I've gotten my fill of snuggly, sweet baby time. He may not have any memories of it, but I always will.

February 4, 2011

Yes, Please!

Right now I'd love to be relaxing poolside, somewhere warm and so sunny that shades are necessary at all times. Similarly, I'd love to be wealthy enough to buy a houseful of colorful summer frocks - if just to force spring to go ahead and get here.

So instead, I'll daydream. I'm not even sure I'd wear all of this, but it's such a gray, rainy Friday that these bright pieces are tempting beyond belief.

Trina Turk

Boden

Shoshanna

Tibi

Shoshanna

Lilly Pulitzer
Kate Spade

Shoshanna

Lilly Pulitzer

Tory Burch

Lilly Pulitzer

Trina Turk

Boden

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