saturday morning jumped out of bed

Monday, September 29, 2014

When I lived in San Francisco, my mom used to call me every Saturday morning.  

She was in Maryland, waiting impatiently until a "civil" time to call.  She usually waited until 9 or 9:30.

The trouble with that is the whole pesky time zone thing.  So, alllllllllllll the way in San Francisco, my phone would RINGRINGRING at 6 or 6:30 AM.

The trouble with that is that Saturday morning comes after Friday night.

For example:  We used to go to a bar in the Mission called the Makeout Room.  They played Social Distortion and had a baby doll head in a jar of formaldehyde behind the bar.  We took cabs and stayed until closing time.  I had a black faux fur Hello Kitty purse.

*     *     *     *     *

Last Saturday morning, Jack had his first ever soccer game of life.

The game was on the fields just down the street.  They start at either 8 or 9.

Jack and his doppelganger, A., ran around, passed the ball, made shots, made those shots at the correct goals, and scored a few times.

Look at my soccer mom photobomb.  Look at it!

I, never one to cheer, found myself whooping on the sidelines with the best of'em.

The trouble with this is that I think I am now TECHNICALLY a soccer mom.

For example:  Durel is the team's coach.  I emailed all the parents to rotate who brings snacks to the games.  I brought them this time.  I brought Goldfish, orange slices, and 100% juice pouches.  I wore (hot pink, thankfully) sneakers.


*     *     *     *     *

Tell me how you spend your Saturday mornings, and I'll tell you who you are.

Hope you diversify over time.

Talk soon,
Heather

life according to Jack, fall 2014

Friday, September 26, 2014

On sushi:
"I LOVE FISH!"

Escolar, to be precise.
On Sawyer:
"I'm going to call him Little Peanut.  He can call me Big Peanut.  No...he can call me Big Brother."

On slimy things:
"Mr. Scott brought goo to class.  Goo...it's like slime.  But it's NOT slime.  Goo is just goo."

On bath time:
"But I don't want to take a bath!  I don't stink!  I promise!"

On Batman:
"Mom!  Make Robin hurry up!  We have to beat the bad guys!  WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME!"


On bedtime:
"Hey Mom, I'm not tired.  So let's play with toys all the time until I'm tired.  Isn't that a good idea??"

Hope there's lots of play time in your day.

Talk soon,
Heather

sawyer's sartorial truth

Thursday, September 25, 2014

I firmly believe that it's better to be overdressed than under-dressed.

Incidentally, it is (completely sincere) statements like this that led me to adopt the pen name of Proper Paige for the purpose of etiquette blogging.  (I've got a lot less to say about etiquette these days, but once the poopy diaper ratio goes down, the etiquette ratio will go back up.)

Anyway, as for my zeal for being appropriately (if not over) dressed, it appears that Sawyer shares it. Because, you see, this is what he wore to the beach.  

You will note the beach-patterned rash guard and matching swim trunks, a swim diaper, and a sun hat (off to the side).  


You will note that his choice of beach towel is in complimentary colors.


You will also note the most fabulous baby sock-moccasins ever to grace the shores of Port Aransas, Texas.  

Sawyer knew that, even if our beach trip was after Labor Day, it was still a beach trip, and these would be fine.


This nap on the beach towel is as close as Sawyer ever got to the water.  He was both well-dressed and over-dressed.

That's my boy.

Hope your panache shows today.

Talk soon,
Heather


the eyes have it

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

When Jack was a baby, his eyes were brilliantly blue.  Like, in a "do recessive genes really work that well?," "holy shit look at those!" kind of way.

See?

Jack, Blue Steel, 6 months old
Also, I apparently really liked that outfit.
I had read just enough books while pregnant with Jack to be both clueless and opinionated.  I tried to deter people from getting too excited about his eyes because I was pretty damn sure that the color would change.

I was wrong.  (You can ask Durel.  I don't say that a lot.  The words just don't feel right, somehow.)

Still blue.


Dude.  Mom.  Chill.

Now, there's Sawyer.  And it's become something of a competitive sport to identify who Sawyer resembles, particularly how much he does (or doesn't) look like Jack, me, or Durel.

My mom insists that "he just looks like Sawyer."  That is kind of her.  We all smile when she says that.  And then we resume trying to dissect what, of his six month old features, we can distinguish in ourselves.


So far, we all agree that Sawyer's eyes, while massive pools of philosophical baby wisdom, are not blue any longer.

We also agree that his pesky hemangioma is getting smaller (under the talented and watchful eye of his pediatric dermatologist) and that he has far more hair than Jack at this age.  (See above.)

Dude.  Bro.  Chill.
And that instead of Blue Steel, perhaps he's working on Brown StinkEye.

Only time will tell.

Hope you observe some distinctions and differences today.

Talk soon,
Heather

step aside, bill nye

Monday, September 22, 2014

This was not a good weekend for me to be a lazy parent.  

One of Jack's best buddies thoughtfully brought him a science experiment kit this weekend.

He asked me no less than twenty times if we could do the experiment.  He would not be dissuaded.  He was so insistent that I had to play a little negotiation hardball.  (Who knew that law school would come in so handy with a four year old?)

Jack:   Mom!  I want to do my experiment!!
Me:    We can do it in a little while.
Jack:   Mom, how many minutes?
Me:     A few.
Jack:   Mom.  Name how many minutes.
Me:    Forty.
Jack:  THAT'S TOO MANY!
Me:    A hundred.  And if you keep asking, it will go up.
Jack:  [sullen silence]

After that exchange, I actually got him to wait until after nap.  However, in hindsight, this was a Pyrrhic victory because it wasn't after a nap FOR ME.  

It was fun, though.  He was super into it.  When you consider this and the fact that he loves to watch Nova with Durel, I think we may have a budding science guy on our hands.


Maybe Sawyer will be a poet.

Hope you see the potential in people today.

Talk soon,
Heather


what say ye, Scots?

Thursday, September 18, 2014

It's an historic day in Scotland.  Voters will go to the polls to decide if Scotland should be an independent country.

Granted, new countries form.  It's a done thing.  But it's not a done thing in the United Kingdom.  The ceremony was televised when Hong Kong was handed back to China in 1997.  I watched intently.  I was a newly-minted college graduate living in a studio apartment in Baltimore at the time.  Ick.  But, I digress.  

I was nerdily fascinated to watch an ancient contract expire (perhaps a nod to my future law career) and to watch the United Kingdom change (as I am an unabashed Anglophile).

I also used to live in Ireland -- the Republic of Ireland, that is.  To be there is to learn by osmosis of the history and pride of their hard-earned independence from Great Britain.  It's also nice to be in a packed pub in Galway and announce that your grandmother was a Kelly -- and to have the entire pub cheer and raise their glasses to you.  (That happened.)

And so, it's on my mind that I am proudly part Scottish.  My mom's grandmother was a Scot -- a MacDonald, in fact.



In other words, I can't wait to see what the results are.


Sawyer wants to know, too.


Hoping that you feel interested and independent today.

Talk soon,
Heather

to sleep, perchance with your shoes

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

My dad once described himself this way:  "I never want to go to bed, and then I don't ever want to get up in the morning."

I am The Same Way.  I don't want to miss the party and I have never cared about being the early bird.

It's apparently hereditary.

Jack seems to have inherited it.  While I realize that no four year old wants to go to bed, Jack is no exception.  And while he deigns to enjoy the routine of bath time and story time, he pulls out all the stops after story time to avoid actual sleeping time.

Mom, I'm FURSTY.
Mom, I have to go potty.
Mom, I need to tell you something.
Dad, I need to give you a hug.
Dad, I heard something.
Hey guys, I'm HUNGRY.

Medieval sort that we are, we've acquiesced to one slice of cold bread and a bit of water if he insists that he will waste away from lack of sustenance while waiting for breakfast.  If we have the heel of the loaf, that's what I'm giving him.

(Hey man, if you're hungry, a heel of wheat bread will do the trick.  But, I digress.)

I also realize, in this rubric of sleep, that nap time is about to end for Jack.  This thought fills me with sadness and fear.

These recent pictures from school do my heart a world of good.  Napping is still happening, and for each day that is true, I am glad.



Incidentally, a rogue shoe in the bed or blanket overhead is never one of Jack's avoidance tactics. 

Now I know why.

Hope you exhibit some charmingly hereditary traits today.

Talk soon,
Heather

in honor of ryan gosling

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Sawyer wanted me to share this meme.  He couldn't wait until Monday.


He says, "In twenty years, it's ON, Ryan Gosling."

Not sure there is much else to say.

Hope your day is full of materials you like.

Talk soon,
Heather

a song for Friday

Friday, September 5, 2014

Many people have been kind enough to ask me how Sawyer is doing now that he and I are living life unencumbered by those pesky dairy products.  (Recap:  Sawyer has a dairy allergy, which is not the same as lactose intolerance and is sort of no joke.)

As for how we're doing, I'll start with me.  

I'm fine.  Occasionally, I would stab someone for a piece of pizza.  But I don't.  Otherwise, I like Earth Balance vegan (faux) butter.  It's good.  I like Daiya vegan (faux) cheese -- only if melted and used very sparingly.  My love for both sushi and Thai food has multiplied by like ten zillion because those cuisines make it so easy to avoid dairy.  Hummus and peanut butter and apples (not together, though perhaps in rapid succession) are my best friends.

As for Sawdog, he now weighs 16 pounds and 9 ounces.  I'd say he's doing allllllllllllright.

And so would he.

Chillin with the Lambs, on my Bumbo, sippin on booby juice
Laid back, with my  mind on my tummy and my tummy on my mind

Oh, you heard that?
Hope your Friday evening includes your favorite libation.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, September 29, 2014

saturday morning jumped out of bed

When I lived in San Francisco, my mom used to call me every Saturday morning.  

She was in Maryland, waiting impatiently until a "civil" time to call.  She usually waited until 9 or 9:30.

The trouble with that is the whole pesky time zone thing.  So, alllllllllllll the way in San Francisco, my phone would RINGRINGRING at 6 or 6:30 AM.

The trouble with that is that Saturday morning comes after Friday night.

For example:  We used to go to a bar in the Mission called the Makeout Room.  They played Social Distortion and had a baby doll head in a jar of formaldehyde behind the bar.  We took cabs and stayed until closing time.  I had a black faux fur Hello Kitty purse.

*     *     *     *     *

Last Saturday morning, Jack had his first ever soccer game of life.

The game was on the fields just down the street.  They start at either 8 or 9.

Jack and his doppelganger, A., ran around, passed the ball, made shots, made those shots at the correct goals, and scored a few times.

Look at my soccer mom photobomb.  Look at it!

I, never one to cheer, found myself whooping on the sidelines with the best of'em.

The trouble with this is that I think I am now TECHNICALLY a soccer mom.

For example:  Durel is the team's coach.  I emailed all the parents to rotate who brings snacks to the games.  I brought them this time.  I brought Goldfish, orange slices, and 100% juice pouches.  I wore (hot pink, thankfully) sneakers.


*     *     *     *     *

Tell me how you spend your Saturday mornings, and I'll tell you who you are.

Hope you diversify over time.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, September 26, 2014

life according to Jack, fall 2014

On sushi:
"I LOVE FISH!"

Escolar, to be precise.
On Sawyer:
"I'm going to call him Little Peanut.  He can call me Big Peanut.  No...he can call me Big Brother."

On slimy things:
"Mr. Scott brought goo to class.  Goo...it's like slime.  But it's NOT slime.  Goo is just goo."

On bath time:
"But I don't want to take a bath!  I don't stink!  I promise!"

On Batman:
"Mom!  Make Robin hurry up!  We have to beat the bad guys!  WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME!"


On bedtime:
"Hey Mom, I'm not tired.  So let's play with toys all the time until I'm tired.  Isn't that a good idea??"

Hope there's lots of play time in your day.

Talk soon,
Heather

Thursday, September 25, 2014

sawyer's sartorial truth

I firmly believe that it's better to be overdressed than under-dressed.

Incidentally, it is (completely sincere) statements like this that led me to adopt the pen name of Proper Paige for the purpose of etiquette blogging.  (I've got a lot less to say about etiquette these days, but once the poopy diaper ratio goes down, the etiquette ratio will go back up.)

Anyway, as for my zeal for being appropriately (if not over) dressed, it appears that Sawyer shares it. Because, you see, this is what he wore to the beach.  

You will note the beach-patterned rash guard and matching swim trunks, a swim diaper, and a sun hat (off to the side).  


You will note that his choice of beach towel is in complimentary colors.


You will also note the most fabulous baby sock-moccasins ever to grace the shores of Port Aransas, Texas.  

Sawyer knew that, even if our beach trip was after Labor Day, it was still a beach trip, and these would be fine.


This nap on the beach towel is as close as Sawyer ever got to the water.  He was both well-dressed and over-dressed.

That's my boy.

Hope your panache shows today.

Talk soon,
Heather


Tuesday, September 23, 2014

the eyes have it

When Jack was a baby, his eyes were brilliantly blue.  Like, in a "do recessive genes really work that well?," "holy shit look at those!" kind of way.

See?

Jack, Blue Steel, 6 months old
Also, I apparently really liked that outfit.
I had read just enough books while pregnant with Jack to be both clueless and opinionated.  I tried to deter people from getting too excited about his eyes because I was pretty damn sure that the color would change.

I was wrong.  (You can ask Durel.  I don't say that a lot.  The words just don't feel right, somehow.)

Still blue.


Dude.  Mom.  Chill.

Now, there's Sawyer.  And it's become something of a competitive sport to identify who Sawyer resembles, particularly how much he does (or doesn't) look like Jack, me, or Durel.

My mom insists that "he just looks like Sawyer."  That is kind of her.  We all smile when she says that.  And then we resume trying to dissect what, of his six month old features, we can distinguish in ourselves.


So far, we all agree that Sawyer's eyes, while massive pools of philosophical baby wisdom, are not blue any longer.

We also agree that his pesky hemangioma is getting smaller (under the talented and watchful eye of his pediatric dermatologist) and that he has far more hair than Jack at this age.  (See above.)

Dude.  Bro.  Chill.
And that instead of Blue Steel, perhaps he's working on Brown StinkEye.

Only time will tell.

Hope you observe some distinctions and differences today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, September 22, 2014

step aside, bill nye

This was not a good weekend for me to be a lazy parent.  

One of Jack's best buddies thoughtfully brought him a science experiment kit this weekend.

He asked me no less than twenty times if we could do the experiment.  He would not be dissuaded.  He was so insistent that I had to play a little negotiation hardball.  (Who knew that law school would come in so handy with a four year old?)

Jack:   Mom!  I want to do my experiment!!
Me:    We can do it in a little while.
Jack:   Mom, how many minutes?
Me:     A few.
Jack:   Mom.  Name how many minutes.
Me:    Forty.
Jack:  THAT'S TOO MANY!
Me:    A hundred.  And if you keep asking, it will go up.
Jack:  [sullen silence]

After that exchange, I actually got him to wait until after nap.  However, in hindsight, this was a Pyrrhic victory because it wasn't after a nap FOR ME.  

It was fun, though.  He was super into it.  When you consider this and the fact that he loves to watch Nova with Durel, I think we may have a budding science guy on our hands.


Maybe Sawyer will be a poet.

Hope you see the potential in people today.

Talk soon,
Heather


Thursday, September 18, 2014

what say ye, Scots?

It's an historic day in Scotland.  Voters will go to the polls to decide if Scotland should be an independent country.

Granted, new countries form.  It's a done thing.  But it's not a done thing in the United Kingdom.  The ceremony was televised when Hong Kong was handed back to China in 1997.  I watched intently.  I was a newly-minted college graduate living in a studio apartment in Baltimore at the time.  Ick.  But, I digress.  

I was nerdily fascinated to watch an ancient contract expire (perhaps a nod to my future law career) and to watch the United Kingdom change (as I am an unabashed Anglophile).

I also used to live in Ireland -- the Republic of Ireland, that is.  To be there is to learn by osmosis of the history and pride of their hard-earned independence from Great Britain.  It's also nice to be in a packed pub in Galway and announce that your grandmother was a Kelly -- and to have the entire pub cheer and raise their glasses to you.  (That happened.)

And so, it's on my mind that I am proudly part Scottish.  My mom's grandmother was a Scot -- a MacDonald, in fact.



In other words, I can't wait to see what the results are.


Sawyer wants to know, too.


Hoping that you feel interested and independent today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

to sleep, perchance with your shoes

My dad once described himself this way:  "I never want to go to bed, and then I don't ever want to get up in the morning."

I am The Same Way.  I don't want to miss the party and I have never cared about being the early bird.

It's apparently hereditary.

Jack seems to have inherited it.  While I realize that no four year old wants to go to bed, Jack is no exception.  And while he deigns to enjoy the routine of bath time and story time, he pulls out all the stops after story time to avoid actual sleeping time.

Mom, I'm FURSTY.
Mom, I have to go potty.
Mom, I need to tell you something.
Dad, I need to give you a hug.
Dad, I heard something.
Hey guys, I'm HUNGRY.

Medieval sort that we are, we've acquiesced to one slice of cold bread and a bit of water if he insists that he will waste away from lack of sustenance while waiting for breakfast.  If we have the heel of the loaf, that's what I'm giving him.

(Hey man, if you're hungry, a heel of wheat bread will do the trick.  But, I digress.)

I also realize, in this rubric of sleep, that nap time is about to end for Jack.  This thought fills me with sadness and fear.

These recent pictures from school do my heart a world of good.  Napping is still happening, and for each day that is true, I am glad.



Incidentally, a rogue shoe in the bed or blanket overhead is never one of Jack's avoidance tactics. 

Now I know why.

Hope you exhibit some charmingly hereditary traits today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Saturday, September 6, 2014

in honor of ryan gosling

Sawyer wanted me to share this meme.  He couldn't wait until Monday.


He says, "In twenty years, it's ON, Ryan Gosling."

Not sure there is much else to say.

Hope your day is full of materials you like.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, September 5, 2014

a song for Friday

Many people have been kind enough to ask me how Sawyer is doing now that he and I are living life unencumbered by those pesky dairy products.  (Recap:  Sawyer has a dairy allergy, which is not the same as lactose intolerance and is sort of no joke.)

As for how we're doing, I'll start with me.  

I'm fine.  Occasionally, I would stab someone for a piece of pizza.  But I don't.  Otherwise, I like Earth Balance vegan (faux) butter.  It's good.  I like Daiya vegan (faux) cheese -- only if melted and used very sparingly.  My love for both sushi and Thai food has multiplied by like ten zillion because those cuisines make it so easy to avoid dairy.  Hummus and peanut butter and apples (not together, though perhaps in rapid succession) are my best friends.

As for Sawdog, he now weighs 16 pounds and 9 ounces.  I'd say he's doing allllllllllllright.

And so would he.

Chillin with the Lambs, on my Bumbo, sippin on booby juice
Laid back, with my  mind on my tummy and my tummy on my mind

Oh, you heard that?
Hope your Friday evening includes your favorite libation.

Talk soon,
Heather
 
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