Smiling Man

Jude and I have become pretty great buddies. The first weeks of our relationship have been a lot of one-way affection. I was doing all the smiling, kissing, and laughing for the both of us--though I can't discount his cuddling contribution, because he's pretty giving in that department.  

But that all changed last week when he started smiling. He first did it last Wednesday. That day was kind of a bad day for Jude--basically a bad case of cranky pantsness. Feeling somewhat guilty, I grew tired of my child, sat him down on his boppy on my lap and daydreamed off into the distance while he squeaked and growled at me. When I finally came back to reality I looked down at my young child beaming up at me with the biggest gummy smile ever, as if to say, "Sorry, Mom, I feel better now. And you're the best." Q heart melting. 

LOVE him. 

I've been trying ever since to get a video of him smiling. AND HERE IT IS. 

p.s. It takes a little while. And don't make fun of me for sounding like a moron. 

And the end is gross. 

You might as well just watch the whole thing.

Unhealthy Healthy Obsessions

Just a note:

I have an unhealthy relationship with this:

And this:

Cottage cheese? At 80-100 calories per half cup, 2.5 grams of fat and 10 grams of protein? I eat this too much. I'm actually eating it right now...out of the container...like a fat kid--except my point is that it helps you to not be a fat kid. p.s. searching Google images for "cottage cheese" came up with some nasty pics of cellulite...I almost had to put my spoon down. 

Fage yogurt? 170 calories and 13 g protein. K..not just plain. That's gross. It's like eating sour cream. It actually is sour cream..technically. You have to get the kind with the little pocket of fruit stuff. And I love it because they offer you a sugarless yogurt to add as much or as little fruit blend as you want. Nothing grosses me out more than the typical yogurt packs. They're like little containers of sugar with a splash of curdled milk. 

A food post? Yeah. I'm trying to not look pregnant anymore. Protein is my bff right now. 

White Trash

Today I was a bad Mom. 

I don't like grocery shopping. And I especially don't like doing it alone. While at school, Adam and I used to look forward to our monthly grocery shopping trips together. Again, not because we liked doing it, because we hated it, but coming home and unpacking bags of groceries was like opening presents on Christmas morning. Stocking up our empty shelves and refrigerator was the best feeling. 

Anyway...

I didn't want to go alone tonight. My smart husband suggested that I just go alone while he stay home with our infant son. I said, no, I'll feed him before we go, throw him in the car-seat, and he'll sleep the whole time.

I was wrong.

He got fussy in the produce section. Which is the first section. So, after repeated fussing and one red-faced baby later, Adam decided the little dude needed to be cuddled. Which meant taking him out of his carseat. So he did. Oh, and did I mention we grocery shop at Super Walmart?

Yeah. 

So here we were. New parents. Carrying a 3 week old baby in arm. Uncovered. Exposed. At Walmart. 

Walmart. 

And here's the kicker: He got hungry. Of course he got hungry. So what did we do? Mixed a bottle of formula in the bread aisle and stuck it in the kid's mouth as fellow customers squeezed by. 

And then what happened?

Lover boy decided it might be best to find a rocking chair on display to feed our poor child on--all the while people walked by, oohing and ahhing at the small infant.

Now, normal people would have judged us for being so thoughtless/negligent/selfish. "What kind of morons would take a newborn baby out in the public like that? I mean the poor dear is basically sterile." We would've left having been given numberless stink eyes and head shakes of disapproval. 

But people at Walmart aren't normal.

So they actually did the opposite. 

It would've made me feel better if everyone had judged us. 

Welcome to the world, Jude Bug. Your parents officially suck. 

Work It

I was going through my documents on my desktop and discovered this picture from back when I did a photo shoot with Myra Kjer. I love it. I love it because I loved that day. Myra's work is so vintage-inspired and in the middle of nowhere in Idaho, in a shack that could have very well been inhabited by wild animals, quite possibly bears--I'm deathly afraid of bears--, I felt like a French model from 1965. And although I also felt pretentious and mildly silly, Myra's passion and excitement made that day one that I look back on with immense fondness. That day I was temporarily liberated from dowdy-dirty nursing student, and transformed into girly, flirty, and fabulous "model." It was acting, and are we really ever too old to pretend and play dress up? I recommend it to all. Ladies, we should all feel gorgeous, fabulous, and desirable--daily. But more often than not we need an experience to force us to feel so. 

Challenge of the week?

1. Put together a creative ensemble you wouldn't dare walk out the door in--the kind where you throw on your highest heals and most insane prints.

2. Grab your husband, girlfriend, or just your camera timer. 

3. Doll yourself up. 

4. Take some random glamour shots.

Cheesy? Narcissistic? 14 year-old-ish? 

Probably. Unfortunately probably. 

But who cares. 

Ten years from now no one will look at those pictures and think..."Wow she was full of herself." They'll think..."Wow, she looked fantastic!"

Hone your inner diva and never be afraid to work it. 

Eat Your Heart Out

It's about time I posted about the new man in my life, right? I mean, he is 2 WEEKS OLD tomorrow.
Well, my little man is here. And holy cow do I just love him. 

We went in to get induced on Friday the 25th because he had become just a little too comfortable in there and we were getting antsy. After 9 hours of labor, 30 minutes of pushing, and a couple of scary complications, we ended up having to go in for an emergency c-section due to a dropping heart rate. So, at 8:12PM that Friday our little Jude screamed his way out of the womb after discovering that the cord had been wrapped around his neck once.  

Due to feeling pain during the last part of the procedure, the anesthesiologist had just loaded me up with a bunch of drugs right before he was born, so I was super loopy and tired when we first met. Otherwise, I remember everything clearly. 

He weighed 7 lbs. 13 oz. and was 20.5 inches long. He has my ears, Adam's chin and lips, and lots and lots of hair. His "do" kind of resembles an Asian mullet: long, sharp side burns, short, spiky hair at the crown, and long on the neck. It's adorable. He also has little monkey feet and insanely long fingers and arms--and those arms just love to wrap themselves around you. Personality-wise he is a super chill kid. He has a very mild temperament, is very aware, quick to tell you what he wants and very easy to please. We just can't get enough of him. Grandma calls him her "AP" baby because he has developed so much over this short week she's been here. 

Jude's current interests include: 
Tummy time--the pediatrician was so surprised that from birth he could lift his head up on his own.
Snuggling--he has to sleep grabbing onto something, which is usually your shirt collar or chest. 
Meal time--he is my kid. 
Baths--the kid LOVES these! He could be starving, but once you plop his naked bum into some warm water he goes right to sleep. 
Smiling and laughing in his sleep--he especially does this when you stroke his hair. 
Pooping--he poos like a champ...super loud and super often...sometimes so much that he startles himself. 
Sleeping--whatever, he sleeps a lot. 
Daddy--Jude loves Adam. He follows his voice around the house and stares intently into his eyes. 
His hands--he discovered his hands from the beginning and uses them to hold his bottle, claw at Mommy, cover his face while sleeping, and fold during prayers. 
His car seat--I'm considering letting him sleep in it at night.
12:00-2:00AM--I swear he naps all day just so he can party at these wee hours of the night. 


He is the greatest little thing that has ever happened to us and we can't imagine our life together without him. I mean, how crazy is it that he grew from the tiniest little cell to a fully complex human being..all in 9 months? It's seriously ridiculous to think what kind of miracles go on in the human body during that time. DNA is legit stuff. 


Thinking about having kids? We fully endorse it. 

Me? I'm feeling GREAT. The recovering has been super easy and I've had lots of help and support during it, and all the while I've become an excessively paranoid, worried, freaked out, and sleepless person. Do I check if he's breathing? Frequently. 


Eat your heart out on these. He's such a handsome baby. 

Bffs

After his bath with Grandma and Aunt Briana.

He's kind of a control freak about his food.  

He just loves her.

Our amazing nursing, Deb. 

Just woke up from a nap. 

First picture as as family

He's a model already

Baby dreams

His first look at his extended family with his family picture book from Aunt Briana

Dress Dilemma

My bff from high school is getting married this June--SO exciting--and she's asked me to come and be a bridesmaid for her special day. I AM STOKED. I've never been a bridesmaid before--basically because I'm the only one married in my family and this is my first friend to get married. Imagine that. 

So, it is going to be a beautiful, traditional Catholic wedding and Tara's picked out a simply classic dress for her maids to wear. 

Only issue: it doesn't exactly cover my shoulders or back. 

It's a Bill Levkoff and really speaks for itself and I'm super paranoid about taking away from the dress with any alterations. 

All my (single?) ladies: we need to brainstorm. 

I'm not interested in jackets, cover-ups, or boleros--unless you can give me a killer idea for one. 

There is the one strap/trail of material that is attached in the back which is functional to use to cover me up. What do you think?

Here are a couple of ideas: 

-Use the portion of the sash that hangs off the back to attach material under the strap to hopefully make it look like the dress was meant to look like that--basically attaching a chiffon top underneath the strap, as if I was wearing an under t-shirt. 

-Cut off the strap entirely and attach some kind of sleeves. 

That's all I've got. 

Have any ideas? Would totally appreciate some input--even if it's just a pic. Actually pics are great. 

Thanks.

Here's the dress--it's in the olive-ish color, but it's actually more of a gold in person: 

The Last Date

Hey Jude,

Mom and dad went on a date tonight. 

Dad spent a little bit more than mom wanted to. He said we needed to go "all out" since this was my last night out...for awhile. 

Thanks love. 

I made dad sit next to me during the meal. We talked about different things--mainly how dad should stop saying inappropriate things due to the couple immediately behind us. The last thing you want is a startling word like "nipple" floating around the air for just any old elderly persons' hearing aid to detect--someone could choke on their steamed vegetables.  

Anyway...

In a nutshell, we ate, dad bought a brand new belt, and we went grocery shopping. Other than that, the food was good--better than good--great. We'll for sure be back again, which will probably mean that you'll be at home with a babysitter. Sorry kid--you've been the ultimate tagalong for over 9 months now: it's time your 'rents got some real alone time without the cute and annoyingly frequent, not to mention potentially disastrous, jab in the bladder every time our faces get close. 

We love you. 

Get your naked butt out here.  

Don't laugh.

I'm Loved

Hey Jude,

Mom's been featured. 

HERE

Hey Jude

Hey Jude,

I know you're having trouble deciding when you want to greet the world. It's scary, I get it. In the course of a week you've send mom and dad to the hospital twice with the anticipation that you'd made up your little man mind. Although frustrating and emotionally taxing, these little fake outs of yours have made the reality of your influence into our lives a little bit more clear and we have appreciated the opportunity to become a little bit more prepared. Hey, practice makes perfect, right? But please, please, don't wait until we are perfect. Also, daddy really can't keep using up his personal days. 

So listen carefully:

I have a very cute and cozy-soft Ralph Lauren outfit waiting for you to snuggle up to mommy in. 

You want it? You want it? 

Come get it. 

Otherwise, I'll save it for your brother. 

I Change My Mind

First of all, no need to point out--or talk ruthlessly behind my back--about how horrible my blog layout is at the moment. There's a kink I'm trying to figure out, or getting husband to figure out, so until it's either fixed or I create a new blog site: don't judge me for being tacky. 

Onward....

I can't help but dream about post-pregnancy body and post-pregnancy clothes. Last night I dreamt I had the little guy and I literally watched my stomach shrink back to it's original size. Dream Adam was looking over my shoulder going "yes!" 
p.s. Don't hate on me for wanting the little guy in my arms, not stretching out my skin. 

So I've stayed current with trends--not wearing, of course, just observing from the sideline (like the fat, uncoordinated kid), and awhile back I realized that one of my worst fears has become a reality. 

The 70s are back. 

I despise 70s fashion. 

Aside from the occasional classic faux fur piece or high waisted trouser, I hate the 70s. I feel like it was such a goofy, awkward time for fashion. It was like everyone threw all their creative energy into the amazing 60s that there was nothing left afterward. The country basically gave up for a decade and fried their brains until burnt orange became a good idea. 

BUT--And this is a huge BUT--the modern take that designers have created on 70s fashion today is so SOPHISTICATED IT KILLS ME. I think I'm kind of in love. Just kind of. It makes me want to pop out the kid, store up as much boob juice as possible, and diet hardcore so I don't have any added weight killing my feet when I buy a pair of sick 70s pumps--Q rolling eyes and stink-eye stares. 

Just humor me, even if you don't find me humorous.