Today Miss Priss wasn't into her lunch. I was trying to feed her roasted blueberry and apple goo from a pouch. Sounds gross but it's quite tasty - Tyler Florence makes it. Designer baby food. Anyway, I left it on the table while she played in the highchair with her mini-pumpkin (gourd) that she both loves and abuses. I was baking brownies for our neighborhood party and turned away for just a moment, turning back just in time to watch her yank the placemat from the table, sending aforementioned blueberry goo flying through the air, landing on highchair, cabinets, table, bench floor, wall, and baby. Awesome. She's a mess. And she was quite amused as Mommy crawled around on all fours wiping it up.
After clean-up, we crossed the street to the neighbors for a potluck dinner and SB, who has never seen so much flat grass in her life, ran laps in their backyard until she was pink-cheeked and sweaty. It's amazing. A few weeks ago she was barely walking on her own, now she is hauling her little booty fast and furious. I always thought those kid-leashes were a terrible idea, but I may rethink that after watching our lil' Speed Racer scooting around today. We're in trouble!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Grandma the Great!
Yesterday was a blast for Miss Sarah Beth. She not only had the undivided attention of Grandma and Grandpa, but also stole the heart of her Great-Grandma. Grandpa and the Grandmas drove down for a visit and Sarah Beth did not disappoint. She immediately reached our her arms for Grandma, which totally made the 2 hour drive worthwhile. She played games with both the Grandmas during lunch and then we went to Latta Park to show off her swingin' and splashin' skills. Here are a few pics:
Grandma and Grandpa
(notice how their outfits are coordinated?
Apparently that's what happens after 40+ years of marriage without even trying.)
The Grandmas! Grand and Great. You can see where SB inherited her good looks.
4 Generations.
Spraygrounds! Man does this baby love some water. We thought it would be too much for her but she thought it was awesome and kept dragging us back in every time we shuffled her to the exit.
Whatchoo talkin' bout Mama?
I'm hoping she doesn't get too comfortable spending time behind bars.
We are so happy we had this day together. Great-Grandma is a beautiful, sassy lady who always knows how to carry herself with class and style. I love that she got to spend some time with our little girl. I talked to my mom on the phone today and Great-Grandma said to tell me that I was a great Mom which is about the nicest compliment she could give me. Thanks Great-Grandma for your visit and for all the love you send us. We love you lots!
Tales from the 'Hood
I think I've alluded to the fact before that we live in, shall we say, a transitional neighborhood in Charlotte. Don't get me wrong, it's a wonderful neighborhood for the most part on the fringe of Cotswold. Only 5 miles from Uptown (downtown), lots of beautiful old oak trees (we have 35 on our .4 acre lot) and nice solid, 1960's ranch homes. And you can't beat the value for your money anywhere else this close to town. Most of our neighbors are great and we see a trend of houses being fixed up and professional people moving in. However, it's got it's share of questionable characters. Now we don't have gang warfare or drug deals on the sidewalk or anything, but there's likely some illegal activity in the park across the street, and a few blocks away there is some cheap housing that should be firebombed. I'm just sayin'...
To explain my desire for Rambo to show up with a flamethrower, let me describe things further. Our street? Just fine for the most part. The street around the bend? Even better. The short block between us and the nice neighborhood around the bend? Not so good. There are (or were actually, I'll get to that) 5 crappy rental houses that have a variety of short-term occupants. Envision dogs chained up in yard, big wal-mart 4 foot by 12 foot plastic pool in the side yard, which is also adorned with laundry hanging from anything that doesn't move. Lots of random furniture, outdoor and indoor, littering the front. You get my drift.
Next to these houses are the Pink Apartments. Well, there's not actually pink anymore because they painted them beige but didn't use primer so they are a pinkish beige now. We still lovingly refer to them as the Pink Apartments. We got all excited last year because they put up a tall chain link fence and we thought surely this meant they were tearing them down. Oh no. They just decided to put up the fence to keep the riff-raff out (or maybe in?) Lovely. The apartments across the street do not have much better of a clientele but they are brick so they look decent, at least, except for the pants-on-the-ground hood rats hanging out on the front porch with their gold teeth and hats cocked to the side. We'll call these the Crappy Brick Apartments for simplicity's sake. I firmly believe that if we could rid ourselves of these few dwellings, our neighborhood would improve tenfold.
Ok, now that you know the lay of the land, let's play a little game called Good Sign/Bad Sign. Kurt and I play it all the time, wondering if a given incident in the area means an increase in our property value or a decrease. The first few are easy. Jury's still out on the third.
To explain my desire for Rambo to show up with a flamethrower, let me describe things further. Our street? Just fine for the most part. The street around the bend? Even better. The short block between us and the nice neighborhood around the bend? Not so good. There are (or were actually, I'll get to that) 5 crappy rental houses that have a variety of short-term occupants. Envision dogs chained up in yard, big wal-mart 4 foot by 12 foot plastic pool in the side yard, which is also adorned with laundry hanging from anything that doesn't move. Lots of random furniture, outdoor and indoor, littering the front. You get my drift.
Next to these houses are the Pink Apartments. Well, there's not actually pink anymore because they painted them beige but didn't use primer so they are a pinkish beige now. We still lovingly refer to them as the Pink Apartments. We got all excited last year because they put up a tall chain link fence and we thought surely this meant they were tearing them down. Oh no. They just decided to put up the fence to keep the riff-raff out (or maybe in?) Lovely. The apartments across the street do not have much better of a clientele but they are brick so they look decent, at least, except for the pants-on-the-ground hood rats hanging out on the front porch with their gold teeth and hats cocked to the side. We'll call these the Crappy Brick Apartments for simplicity's sake. I firmly believe that if we could rid ourselves of these few dwellings, our neighborhood would improve tenfold.
Ok, now that you know the lay of the land, let's play a little game called Good Sign/Bad Sign. Kurt and I play it all the time, wondering if a given incident in the area means an increase in our property value or a decrease. The first few are easy. Jury's still out on the third.
Good Sign :)
The other day I drove through the Ghetto on the Bend heading to the grocery store. They were paving part of the street which was annoying but nothing else out of the ordinary. An hour later, heading home I was shocked to see one of the dreaded rental homes had been completely demolished! There was nothing but a pile of sticks and a proud yellow bulldozer sifting through the heap. This has got to be a Good Sign right? I only wish I had gotten to see the destruction firsthand. Bad Sign :(
You know it's going to be a bad Friday night in the 'hood when your backyard is being lit up by a Police helicopter spotlight. That's right, as I was baking toll house cookies in our cozy home, I watched the ghetto bird circle our house for 45 minutes. It got even more exciting as the police stopped a guy walking down the street right in front of our house and had 4 police cars, lights flashing, parked out there for over an hour. Normally our street is fairly quiet but this made us want to stick a for sale sign in the yard ASAP. Apparently there was some sort of armed robbery a few blocks down the street. The suspects were not caught. Awesome. Oh and good luck finding this in the news anywhere. Not a peep. If a police helicopter lit up Queens Road I bet it would end up front page of the Charlotte Observer.TBD ?
Here's a puzzling one. We drove through the 'hood this morning on our way to the park and noticed big red "A"s painted on the doors of several of the Crappy Brick Apartments. What the heck is that about? Is this a new gang sign? Adulterers? Anarchy? We're stumped. Any guesses?
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Remember
It's 9/11 again.
It's such a weird day. Americans want to celebrate everything. Memorial Day has turned into a day of barbecues and beach getaways. MLK day is an extra day off work in January (if you're lucky.) Presidents' Days are big sale days at the mall. I wonder if 9/11 will turn into that type of day or if the tragedy was so great that it will always be considered a day to remember the lives lost and the terrible sadness.
I remember. I remember hearing about the first plane as I walked into work that morning. I was in Little Rock. I watched the second plane crash into the tower on the big TV in the cafeteria. My first irrational thought was of my brother and his family living in Manhattan. They had no reason to be anywhere near there, but I felt better after hearing my brother's voice. I remember the shock that something like this could happen in our country.
I remember the day of mourning. The memorial service on TV. I watched as I cleaned house that day. I remember being overwhelmed with emotion, sitting on the coffee table and sobbing for the longest time.
I remember flying into Newark a few weeks later for my high school reunion. Seeing the big American Flag draped over the gates where those planes departed. I remember driving to Red Bank in a crappy rental car, losing count of the Flags that hung above every overpass on the Turnpike and the Parkway. I remember the memorial of flowers and mementos on Front Street overlooking the Navesink River.
I remember visiting my brother in the City and going down to Ground Zero. Dust everywhere, the smell of death and destruction still in the air. The most striking thing was the quiet. It was so quiet. No taxis whizzing by. No one yelling. No buzz of commuters walking the streets. It was like a different country. A war zone. It was a war zone. The twisted metal. The unimaginable horror of that day.
I hope this day doesn't ever turn into a Macy's Sale Day or a 3-Day Holiday Weekend.
I hope people use this day to remember. The innocent victims, the heroes who rushed in to save them. The ordinary people who saved the lives of others. The survivors who are left with terrible emotional and physical scars. Those suffering from guilt because they were "supposed" to be there that day, but missed the plane or went a different route. Those who have died protecting us since then, and those who protect us now.
I hope we all use this day to show our loved ones how much we love them and to be thankful for our blessings. Last night, my sweet 14 month old girl was having trouble sleeping. After several failed attempts at returning her to her crib, I brought her into our room around 3AM to snuggle between us. For a moment I thought about the sleep that I was losing, but then she looked at me in the darkness and grabbed my fingers with her little hand and held on. I watched my biggest blessing drift off to sleep and thanked God for every moment that I have with her. I hope she will never know a world of such senseless violence. I pray for peace.
It's such a weird day. Americans want to celebrate everything. Memorial Day has turned into a day of barbecues and beach getaways. MLK day is an extra day off work in January (if you're lucky.) Presidents' Days are big sale days at the mall. I wonder if 9/11 will turn into that type of day or if the tragedy was so great that it will always be considered a day to remember the lives lost and the terrible sadness.
I remember. I remember hearing about the first plane as I walked into work that morning. I was in Little Rock. I watched the second plane crash into the tower on the big TV in the cafeteria. My first irrational thought was of my brother and his family living in Manhattan. They had no reason to be anywhere near there, but I felt better after hearing my brother's voice. I remember the shock that something like this could happen in our country.
I remember the day of mourning. The memorial service on TV. I watched as I cleaned house that day. I remember being overwhelmed with emotion, sitting on the coffee table and sobbing for the longest time.
I remember flying into Newark a few weeks later for my high school reunion. Seeing the big American Flag draped over the gates where those planes departed. I remember driving to Red Bank in a crappy rental car, losing count of the Flags that hung above every overpass on the Turnpike and the Parkway. I remember the memorial of flowers and mementos on Front Street overlooking the Navesink River.
I remember visiting my brother in the City and going down to Ground Zero. Dust everywhere, the smell of death and destruction still in the air. The most striking thing was the quiet. It was so quiet. No taxis whizzing by. No one yelling. No buzz of commuters walking the streets. It was like a different country. A war zone. It was a war zone. The twisted metal. The unimaginable horror of that day.
I hope this day doesn't ever turn into a Macy's Sale Day or a 3-Day Holiday Weekend.
I hope people use this day to remember. The innocent victims, the heroes who rushed in to save them. The ordinary people who saved the lives of others. The survivors who are left with terrible emotional and physical scars. Those suffering from guilt because they were "supposed" to be there that day, but missed the plane or went a different route. Those who have died protecting us since then, and those who protect us now.
I hope we all use this day to show our loved ones how much we love them and to be thankful for our blessings. Last night, my sweet 14 month old girl was having trouble sleeping. After several failed attempts at returning her to her crib, I brought her into our room around 3AM to snuggle between us. For a moment I thought about the sleep that I was losing, but then she looked at me in the darkness and grabbed my fingers with her little hand and held on. I watched my biggest blessing drift off to sleep and thanked God for every moment that I have with her. I hope she will never know a world of such senseless violence. I pray for peace.
Friday, September 10, 2010
I've been workin' on the railroad...
Don't try this at home, folks. This wasn't an active track. No babies were harmed in the making of this photo.
So...we just got back yesterday from a week at Chez Fagan in the beautiful NC mountains. The weather was amazing. Sarah Beth was a total peach the whole trip and is an official walking toddler now. More to come but I just wanted to post this real quick to let everyone know we're alive and well.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Back Crackin' Good Times
Wednesday already? Wow this week is flying by. I've been staying up late editing photos. I had a great OpLove Shoot on Sunday with a spunky little girl and her Mom. Daddy has been in Iraq and has three more months to go. They actually live in Idaho but she grew up here and has been staying with her parents for a while. Apparently, there's not a lot to do in Idaho, but the scenery is beautiful, she says. I don't know how she manages, chasing this little one all over creation while her husband is in flippin' Iraq. I'd be a basket case. She keeps it together though, all those military spouses do. It's remarkable. Anyway, I am so excited to get these photos done and mailed off to her husband since it's a total surprise. So that's why I've been up every night waaaay past my bedtime and been ignoring my blogging responsibilities.
In other news, I went to my very first chiropractor visit today. Come to find out, I'm not supposed to feel like I've been hit by a bus on a daily basis. Every since baby, my body has not been the same...aches and pains from head to toe. I thought it was just because I'm the old and decrepit "Advanced Maternal Age" of 37 (shudder!) but no. I quote my doctor, "your shoulders are really messed up." And my foot too. It's some kind of plantar fasciitis type of thing. Anyway, Kurt got tired of my bitching and moaning and I got tired of hobbling around like a 90 year old, so off I went to Estramonte Chiropractic. It was great. They did some heat therapy like super-duper heating pads, a few other things with wires and wands, and then the infamous adjustment. Overall it was fine but it is a strange sensation when someone grabs your neck and pops it like you see Steven Seagal do in those awful Fat White Guy-Doing-Karate movies. I must admit, I feel a little better. So I may be jumping on the chiropractic bandwagon, especially if it can prevent me from popping 20 ibuprofen a day, getting cortisone injections, or even worse, surgery.
Baby update. Baby is walking, I repeat, Baby is walking. Only a few steps without holding on, but it definitely qualifies as walking. She is on the move and so proud of herself! She lets go, takes a few steps and squeals with delight before plopping down on the floor or grabbing a chair (or us.) It is the funniest thing. She is also eating everything in sight. Must be a growth spurt. Tonight she tried tilapia and loved it. What kid likes fish? She also chowed down on some pinto beans, rice and guacamole. Is there nothing this girl won't eat?
We went to our first storytime at the library yesterday. SB loved it! She sat on my lap, listening intently to the lady and watching all the other kids. They sang songs and did dances and topped of the whole thing by blowing bubbles for the kids to pop. Can they pack any more fun into 20 minutes? I don't think so. Sarah Beth only got irate when I wouldn't let her run up and steal the felt duck off of the storyboard. She wanted to hold it in her little fists so badly. After storytime, we played in the little kids section for a while. Most were still bigger than her, and she got knocked down twice by a couple of little brats. Mommy restrained herself and did not kick them in their baby teeth but boy did I want to. There was one nice little boy who thought SB was the cat's meow and showed her how the toys worked and was sweet and gentle. SB eyed him suspiciously, but allowed him to play with her. It's so interesting to watch her interact with other kids since we've practically sequestered her for the past year. I think we'll try to go to storytime every week and maybe she can make some friends or at least learn to push them back when she gets knocked over. Oh wait, I'm not supposed to tell her to do that, right?
In other news, I went to my very first chiropractor visit today. Come to find out, I'm not supposed to feel like I've been hit by a bus on a daily basis. Every since baby, my body has not been the same...aches and pains from head to toe. I thought it was just because I'm the old and decrepit "Advanced Maternal Age" of 37 (shudder!) but no. I quote my doctor, "your shoulders are really messed up." And my foot too. It's some kind of plantar fasciitis type of thing. Anyway, Kurt got tired of my bitching and moaning and I got tired of hobbling around like a 90 year old, so off I went to Estramonte Chiropractic. It was great. They did some heat therapy like super-duper heating pads, a few other things with wires and wands, and then the infamous adjustment. Overall it was fine but it is a strange sensation when someone grabs your neck and pops it like you see Steven Seagal do in those awful Fat White Guy-Doing-Karate movies. I must admit, I feel a little better. So I may be jumping on the chiropractic bandwagon, especially if it can prevent me from popping 20 ibuprofen a day, getting cortisone injections, or even worse, surgery.
Baby update. Baby is walking, I repeat, Baby is walking. Only a few steps without holding on, but it definitely qualifies as walking. She is on the move and so proud of herself! She lets go, takes a few steps and squeals with delight before plopping down on the floor or grabbing a chair (or us.) It is the funniest thing. She is also eating everything in sight. Must be a growth spurt. Tonight she tried tilapia and loved it. What kid likes fish? She also chowed down on some pinto beans, rice and guacamole. Is there nothing this girl won't eat?
We went to our first storytime at the library yesterday. SB loved it! She sat on my lap, listening intently to the lady and watching all the other kids. They sang songs and did dances and topped of the whole thing by blowing bubbles for the kids to pop. Can they pack any more fun into 20 minutes? I don't think so. Sarah Beth only got irate when I wouldn't let her run up and steal the felt duck off of the storyboard. She wanted to hold it in her little fists so badly. After storytime, we played in the little kids section for a while. Most were still bigger than her, and she got knocked down twice by a couple of little brats. Mommy restrained herself and did not kick them in their baby teeth but boy did I want to. There was one nice little boy who thought SB was the cat's meow and showed her how the toys worked and was sweet and gentle. SB eyed him suspiciously, but allowed him to play with her. It's so interesting to watch her interact with other kids since we've practically sequestered her for the past year. I think we'll try to go to storytime every week and maybe she can make some friends or at least learn to push them back when she gets knocked over. Oh wait, I'm not supposed to tell her to do that, right?
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