Thursday, October 31, 2013

first we saved recess, then we went to the farm


In the morning (once we got a much needed night's sleep after driving to Utah) we took the boys to the farm. 
Thanksgiving Point to be exact. 

On our way to the farm we drove by the elementary school and saw the kids standing at the fence waving their arms. We rolled down the windows to say hello and they yelled in unison "will you get our ball?!" Because kickballs have this awful habit of flying over fences and into streets. So we grabbed the runaway playground equipment and reunited them with their owners and then got back in the car proud as can be for saving recess. 

"We totally just saved recess! Go us! Coolest moms ever!"  
And if our dork status was ever in question you can go right ahead and call it finalized now. 

Then to the farm...
The farm was the business. 

It's a beautiful and wonderful thing when fall gives you that one last taste of sun for the season. You know, the last bit of warm before hats and scarves and mittens become permanent fixtures on heads and necks and hands. 

This day was exactly that. Fall was so good to us. 

The weather was perfect and the babies loved everything about the farm. They loved looking at the animals and exploring. And I loved watching them explore. It's an amazing feeling to be present while a little person is experiencing something for the first time. Life is so exciting and every experience is new. Sage kept looking up at me with a look on his face that said it all.  

"are you seeing this right now?! cows! in the flesh! how cool mom!" 

and I couldn't have had more fun either. This is part of the reason why I love experiencing things with him right now, while he's still in this so fun almost-one-and-a-half stage. Everything is new and exciting. And when I can experience things with him I feel like I'm experiencing them for the first time too, in a way. Seeing things through a different lens and gaining a new appreciation for the little things. Like chickens. Chickens are just cool. Those babies could have looked at the chickens for a million years I think.

We also let them ride the horses. Sage was totally embarrassed that I tried to hold his hands on the saddle, and he made that clear by continually swatting my hands away. Like I said, he's totally independent these days and doesn't need my help. But yeah right was I going to let him ride a dang horse on his own, independent or not. So I walked along side him on the horse and discreetly looped my finger through his back belt loop... just in case. He thought he was riding that horse all alone, that fearless little buckaroo. And I don't think he could have been more proud of himself. 

So cows and goats and chickens are the moon the stars and the sky to one-year-olds. And I would get one of each if I could just convince my landlord that was a fine idea. Maybe use the eggs and cheese as a bartering tool? Yeah, I'll let you know how that works out for me. Until then, farm on babies.





Wednesday, October 30, 2013

so I drove twenty hours in four days with a one-year-old...

...and lived to tell the tale.
 We were lucky enough to be invited to stay with my cousin Lindsay and her family in Utah for the long weekend. And gosh dangit, it was good for the soul.

Now I realize that I'm one lucky duck to have such an amazing family. Seriously though, they are all kinds of awesome. When you're family and friends overlap it's luck to the nth degree. And when those family members who also happen to be your friends have kids the same age as yours? Well you should just cash your chips in now. Which is exactly what we did. 

So we packed up the car and drove ourselves to Utah. I have to be completely honest here and tell you that I started having some pretty over-the-top anxiety about a 9 hour drive with a one-year-old before we departed. I started to realize just how long 9 hours really is. I mean, that's 9 episodes of Sesame Street. This was no joke. I felt like I had bit off a little more than I could chew. I packed up the car with every kids movie, book, toy, anything I thought might be remotely entertaining (this included a disposable turkey pan and a rubber chicken -- not even kidding) that I could fit in the back seat. In the front seat was a 12 pack of Diet Coke for me (because I knew it would be much needed) and an assortment of cookies for Sage -- because I am totally and completely not above bribery. 

Side note: Sage found this stash of cookies on the way to his babysitter's house this morning and somehow using his feet or elastic-y arms maneuvered it over to his carseat and began shoving cookies in his mouth as fast as he could. This was at 7 in the morning. And he had so many cookies in his mouth when I looked back at him that he couldn't even chew. A regular cookie monster I have on my hands, I tell ya.

So we made it to Utah in record time and this includes a stop to run on the salt flats and a need to turn around in Wendover for gas, where I drove off with the gas pump in my car. Which isn't at all like what they depict in the movies. I just started driving and heard a loud "thud" and looked back and the gas pump was on the ground. So I jumped out of the car and ran over to put the pump back in its rightful home and grabbed my receipt and took off, red as a beet I'm sure, as fast as the wind would take me. Because who does that? Well, apparently I do.


But lo and behold we arrived at our destination and were greeted at our car by Lindsay and baby Oscar and if that doesn't make you feel loved I sure as heck don't know what does. And for the record: I have the best baby for car traveling in the history of the universe. So we will be travelling a lot more, mark my words.

That afternoon we played outside and ate sushi and stayed up late talking about everything and anything while eating what we decided were our three core food groups: brownie batter, warm brownies, and cooled off brownies (of the gluten free variety, of course). Because guess what folks? Lindsay is GF too (I'm telling you, luckiest girl right here with the coolest family ever). 


And a word to the wise: don't invite us to visit if you don't mean it. Because we are a travelin' pair, Sage and I. As long as there are cookies. Couldn't have done it without the cookies...

Monday, October 21, 2013

baby painting class


Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.
-Pablo Picasso



Sunday, October 20, 2013

that nevada sun: what a show off

I took these pictures Friday night on my way to Reno. I was driving the long way around Washoe Lake -- as everyone would if I was in charge of things -- when I decided it was time to stop and listen to music and look at the little bit of lake that hasn't been slurped up by the sky.  

It was a 10 minute power moment that was just what the doctor ordered. Thinking and sifting through emotions and deciding if the people I'm surrounding myself with are actually making me happy or not. It's tough cookies. Every couple of months I try to do this -- step back and evaluate my happiness. It's very centering to be a little bit selfish. Even for just 10 minutes every few months. I mean, let's not get carried away or anything.


It's been quiet around here because we've come down with a terrible sickness in the middle of the busiest week (which always seems to be when terrible sickness finds us). So we have been fighting something between the plague and scarlet fever over here while keeping everything in life going. You know those acts where someone spins plates on those wooden rods and they have to run back and forth between the plates to keep them spinning and keep them from falling? That's how I've been feeling. I'm running around spinning the plates to keep everything from crashing down. So far I've been doing a pretty good job, if I do say so myself (and I do). But sometimes a plate falls, and I don't have time to stop and mourn the loss of that individual plate or 5 more plates will fall.


So we got ourselves some sickness. 

Being sick as a mom is a whole new experience that I'm figuring out. I'm sick and spinning the plates, which is making me move slower, making more mistakes, letting more plates crash to the ground than usual. But then you hear that piercing scream that comes right before vomit. It's the worst sound a mom can hear. 

Ours hit in the car as I was unloading the laundry. I hear the scream, see the sickness. Sage's eyes full of tears meet my eyes and he pleads with the words he doesn't have yet for me to make it stop. Another scream. More sickness. More tears. He grabs me with his hands so hard that I can feel his little hands pinching my skin. He won't let me put him down, he just wants me to hold him, make the pain go away. Take away the fear. Comfort him.

Meanwhile the plates all fall to the ground.

I keep one plate spinning. The one with "Sage" painted on the rim. The only plate that matters.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

san francisco, you totally get me


We packed up Andrews little blue caravan with more things than three people should need for 24 hours and took ourselves to San Francisco for a little Avett Brothers action.

Oh gosh almighty I love the Avett Brothers, but you knew that already. Not since Transatlantism has an album spoken to me the way that I and Love and You does. But really though, it's almost too emotional to talk about. It is too emotional to talk about. I'm such a weirdo when it comes to music.

..and San Francisco has my heart. Isn't there a song about that or something (ahem ahem)? 

So we got into the city around lunchtime and did what people do around lunchtime, which is look for food. We walked to Union Square, then walked around Union Square looking for a spot that someone recommended, then finally just went to the mall food court to avoid any hangry outbursts that were waiting in the wings. I ate vegan gluten free soup and drank a kale smoothie and was happy as a clam. But that's the thing, I'm just happy as a clam in SF no matter what I'm doing. That city breathes life into me. Vegan food, H&M, UO, books, amazing concerts, oh brother I really out-hipstered myself. Or so I was told. When in Rome and such.

And I bought a record for a record player I didn't have yet. But I'll talk more about that later this week because I'm having a serious love affair with my new record player, and it's a good thing I don't have a boyfriend right now because I'm thinking this would constitute as cheating. 

I also left SF with a sweatshirt from the boys section of H&M kids. When I was wearing it the next day Andrew said "when you went into H&M kids I thought you were shopping for your son and not yourself." Which my intention was to shop for Sage, but he's not big enough for H&M kids yet, and that sweatshirt was just calling my name. Not very often do you see a grey crewneck that says something like "Urban Hip Hop Style". Or maybe I'm looking in all the wrong places. Because kids clothes, especially little boys clothes, are com-fort-a-ble. Believe you me. 



And what about that baby bird you ask? 
Sage hung out with my family and was spoiled rotten with dark wash jeans and trips to the aquarium, but those little arms reaching up for me and the open mouth kiss I got when I walked in after our time apart were pretty darn special. 


And now, folks, more pictures from the concert that all look about the same: