you'd think we needed to call poison control

Monday, September 23, 2013

on saturday, alexander turned five and a half months. now before you think i am one of those crazy moms who celebrates insignificant milestones, i just want to say two things: first we did not celebrate alexander turning five and a half months, we just used that date as the rough time around which we would introduce solids. and second, we celebrated alexander turning one month old by lighting a match that we stuck into a brownie square. and we took a picture, so just in case future babies feel like we love them less, we can show them just how much or little rather, fanfare alexander received. so anyways back to five and a half months. the time has flown. look at my baby at five and a half weeks and now at five and a half months.

on friday, i went to trader joe's and brought my scrunchy bunny an acorn squash. i spent part of nfl sunday roasting that thing and puree-ing it - i missed part of the redskins game, which it turned out, i didn't really need to stay and watch anyway. here is a chronicle of our first try at "solid" food.

*proud pureed squash maker and clearly a first time mom. check out that serving size!*

*a giddy alexander sitting at the grown up table, pre-squash*

*post squash GAG! he's thinking, "someone call poison control, my parents are trying to off me"*

*please mommy, no more squash. please."

when you can't beat 'em, you join 'em

Friday, September 13, 2013

i'd like to dedicate this post to my girl b. the otherday, we had an off and on text conversation for an hour, about deep things, like the game candy crush. (side note, yes, i said an hour conversation via text. i hate phone conversations. i'm either all or nothing. if i can't have a face-to-face conversation with you, i'd prefer to be as impersonal as possible, so please just text me. of course this makes no sense whatsover, but hey, that's my modus operandi).

you should be impressed that two moms, both having five month olds, could carry on a text conversation for over an hour. those of you without babies, you just go on not appreciating having the use of both your hands, at all times. 

we were discussing how awesomely useless our husbands can be as a result of candy crush. not just useless in the "babe, please take out the trash," and he responds, "uh huh..ok [glazed look staring at fake candies dropping down his computer screen]" way. i mean also useless in the, "it's eleven pm, the baby is asleep, time for us to have our quality deep conversations" emotional kind of way. 

sample deep conversation:
me: babe, i'm fat
husband: uh huh...[trill of candies vanishing off the screen in the foreground]
me: babe, i'm talking to you about important things
husband: i'm listening...oh crap, i only have four more moves to get the cherry down to the bottom
me: forget it, i'm going to bed
husband: no no no. i'm listening. really. [pushes the button to start a new round]

see what i mean? candy crush had been threatening my marital bliss for weeks. so the other night, as husband lay in bed, gleefully playing to the sound of candies vanishing, i scooted on over and peeked over at the game. what's this? intriguing!!! and there i was, telling the hubs which candies to switch around, and before you knew it, together, we had beat a round of candy crush. i knew we were invincible as a team, and clearly, candy crush proves it. and now i've crossed over to the dark side. candy crush here i come. sorry b. if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

now eleven pm quality time around here, is us laying side by side, shouting candy crush moves at each other. i'm convinced this is what long lasting marriages are built out of - marital candy crush teamwork. please feel free to email me for more marital advice. i'm an expert ;)

now excuse me while i go brush up on my candy crush skills. i've got a date around eleven tonight and i can't let my partner down.

never forget

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

*baby alexander remembering grandpa alexander*

i often think back to september 10, 2001. life pre-9/11 and how i can never go back. i think of how starkly divided my life is -  my soul before september 11 and a different, wounded soul after. i use to believe that this rip in my soul could be fully healed and the two versions of my being could be reconciled, but i have come to realize (and accept, a little bit) that there will never be a time that my "now me" will not long for the carefree, whole september 10, 2001 version of me. but that version of me was a lifetime ago.

there is really something amazing about the human ability to go on living; a new normal takes shape and we stumble our way into it. at first, it seems impossible. the grief is blinding. but one hour, becomes one day, and then before we knew it, we had survived the grief and loss by a week, and then a month, and then a year, and suddenly ten years. and now it has been twelve years. twelve incredibly long and incredibly short years. twelve years of big events: birthdays, graduations, weddings, babies. twelve years of mundane events: work, emails, phone calls, family dinners. when i look back, it hardly seems possible that we have made it twelve years without my father, but then what other choice did we have? we had to go on. so yes, this resilience is amazing.

but my father's absence these twelve years makes our new normal bittersweet. in this new normal, we are always aware: dad. isn't. here. new memories keep getting created and none of them include my father. now when a memory of my father pops up in my head, it seems so long ago because it is so long ago.

so today, 9/11/2013 we never forget the lives lost. we always remember. but for my family, it is not just today - everyday, as part of our new normal, we never forget.