Mr. Competitive

Pictures from Saturday.

This is Nick

What we learned about our friend this weekend:

• He is such a sweetheart.
• He is smart and witty.
• He likes rock and roll.
• He is part Mike + part Nicole.
• He is too busy playing to eat.
• He does not like melon. Any kind of melon.
• He knows all the transformers.
• He is a good sport.
• He devours blueberries.
• He shouts "I made the team!"
• He likes to make others laugh.
• He asks a lot of questions.
• He has an impeccable memory.
• He is a lightweight next to Buby.
• He has a limit to Buby's bossing around.
• He is not afraid of horses.
• He has green/gray eyes, not brown.
• He is gentle with the younger set.
• He likes butterflies and hay mazes.
• He sings the ABCs.
• He plays well independently and with others.
• He is flexible and up for anything.
• He is drawn to music.
• He likes roller coasters.
• He needs a guitar. Right away.
• He likes milk. Not water.
• He is easily amused with my animal charades.
• He travels with a blankie and a stuffed puppy.
• His love can be bought with Annie's bunny crackers.
• He likes to be carried but doesn't grab on tight enough.
• He is such a pleasure to have around.

8.29.09

Purple is the New Yellow

8.30.09

I never really liked the color, until now. Thank you to Grandma DJ.

Liking the Guest Bed

The Cookie Shop

We have a bakery in our little village that we love. And that bakery has a baker that we love. And that baker bakes breads and carrot cake cupcakes and banana cream pie and spinach-cheese croissants and three flavors of hamantaschen that we love.


Long before Buby was old enough to eat cookies {in my opinion} we were going in regularly for other things. Kitty thought Buby too cute and that my no-cookie policy was too strict. She started offering him one... without asking. Needless to say, they became fast friends. After many a taste test, Buby decided to fancy her strawberry, apricot and raspberry hamantaschen the most.


And so. Every single time we stopped by the bakery in the last three years Buby has had whatever he wanted, courtesy of Kitty. Riding the tricycle down to see her became part of our routine, especially in summer. Yet for some reason it never felt routine. It was a treat.


I often asked Buby early in the morn what, if anything, he dreamt about the night before. Always... always... always his answer involved Kitty and the hamantaschen. Occasionally he would bring her fresh flowers or draw her pictures as a way of thanks. To anyone entering the shop, she would introduce Buby as her boy. She became a pseudo grand, and I've come to know Kitty in the process. I could call her late Saturday, hours afer she closed shop, and ask her to fill a cherry crumb pie craving. She'd whip it up at 6 a.m. and call me when it was ready.


This past Saturday was Kitty's last day. She is going back to diner waitressing, a job she had enjoyed for 20+ years and one that offers better hours. She said she was exhausted from all the baking, and I felt partly to blame... ha. Buby made this portrait of Kitty in a pretty apron next to her famous hamantashen {the outline of which you can't seen in the scan}, framed it and delivered it to her on Saturday. A bitter sweet day for sure.

Old Photo Friday

Never mind my tongue. I always stuck it out when My Sweets was behind the lens.




'Remember Y2K? We all thought the world was going to end when the clock struck 12. At least us New Yorkers did. Yet unlike most of our friends, My Sweets + I decided to brave the cold and the crowds that New Year's Eve and stay in town... just to see. We were joined by my little bro and Boston-based friends Nicole + Mike {holding hands above}.


Standing under the crystal ball counting in unison with hundreds of thousands of other hopefuls was some kind of awesome. Gazillions of balloons falling from the sky awesome. Confetti-covered streets awesome. Champagne in your face awesome. Embracing strangers {who you just elbowed for 16 hours} awesome. Happy to be alive awesome. I'm telling you. It was one for the books.


On the walk back to the subway we laughed hysterical... and vowed to never do it again. Friends and family would continue to visit each year, but Tom and I always did our own thing... a few blocks West of Times Square {ie. Scruffy Duffy's, Social, some Thai place}. That night in 1999/2000 could never be matched.


Where was I going with this? Oh yes. Nicole {above} and I were college roommates for one semester my sophomore year before I ran off to D.C. for a reporting fellowship and left her to hang with Crazy Ellen. After that I transferred out West. We stayed close over many moons, even though we would never again live in the same city. Well, she's coming to stay with us this weekend.. and bringing adorable two-and-a-half-year-old Nick with her. We. Are. So. Psyched. Most especially, Buby.

Batter Up

8.23.09

Sweet 16

Dearest Bleu,



Today you are 16 months. You are 32 inches and 24 pounds, exactly 75% tile for both height and weight. You look teeny to me, but you have the most solid legs I've ever seen... since Buby. You have a more quiet and serious nature than your big bro, but you make yourself heard. Loud and clear. You don't care that you're the younger, shorter, less able of the two. You are smart and fearless. Make no mistake.


Your mere presence keeps Buby on his toes, and he understands that you are his best-friend-in-the-making. He worries about you, entertains you, teaches you, and races to the door to beat you. He speaks to you in a softer, higher pitch voice than he does everyone else. You get his brand of humor and he gets yours. It's an awesome thing to watch.


You might be described as incorrigible. A doer. You are not easily discouraged. You are a nonstop GO GIRL and even have a bossy swagger {shoulders back, head up high} to match. When you are super stoked about something, you squat into downhill skier stance with your knees bent, chest out, and arms back straight.


Much to my chagrin, you successfully climb queen-size beds, bookshelves, dining chairs, and tall leather couches. Frankly, you scare me. I can't turn my head for a second. Just when I think I've got the place pretty much Bleu-proofed, you mount one side of the baby gate {at the base of the stairs} and like a rock climber propel yourself over. You stand up in shopping carts and restaurant high chairs, even though you're belted as tight as tight can be. You are like McGuyver in that sense. I've twice caught you scaling the side of your crib. I know what's coming, and I'm not ready for it.

You have been a mover + a shaker from day 1. Your Daddy and I are incredibly blessed to have two wildly different children, but it has been 16 months of uncharted waters. We're like first-time parents again, every single morning when you wake up. Ha.


Case in point: Buby and I were playing lacrosse in the driveway yesterday, so I took out some chalk and age-appropriate ride-on toys for you. You went for Buby's tricycle instead. Though your legs aren't long enough to reach the pedals, I pulled it out for you and adjusted Buby's old dino helmet to fit.


After a mere 6 seconds of zooming around you decided that wasn't challenging enough. You were going for the scooter. You confidently hopped on {no hands ~ mind you}, stepped one foot down to give yourself a good push, and then successfully took off. After a mere 6 seconds of zooming you decided that wasn't challenging enough. You were going for the big boy bike. I saw your leg went up and rushed over, but I have no doubt that you would have successfully gotten your tush on that little leather seat. Somehow. Then you would have fallen on your face, picked yourself right up and tried again. Because that's what you do.


After I snapped these scooter pics we moved the party to the backyard. It was time to water the garden. Buby, whose goal in life is to stay clean and dry, started spraying you with the hose. You LOVED IT. I asked him to be aim it away from you, but you absolutely encouraged him to carry on. Right in your face, and you LOVED IT. Time of your life. And as usual, you re-entered the house that night stripped down to nothing. A soaking muddy mess from head to toe. Buby was, of course, clean and dry.


At 16 months you are so full of love and busy deciding how you want to distribute it and to whom. You are getting over your fear of men and even offering a few smooches to the grandpas. For good measure. You have a million ways of saying "I love you," and I must soak them all up. In case they change one day. To watch you grow truly is the greatest gift. I wish your kind of hugs and kisses on everyone else. Because the world would be a better place if you could spread that magic around some.


You have just 4 baby teeth and 16 TO GO. Seriously, I don't know what is the hold up, though the dentist promises the longer the wait, the stronger the teeth. Your eyes are a deep espresso bean brown while your wispy short locks shine lighter each day. You and Buby are almost the same color, though your eye brows hint at a future red tone. You love headbands and hats but won't do barrettes. Yet.


At 16 months you are still nursing. Vigorously. Back when I was pregnant with you I committed myself to nurse for 16 months. That's 4 months more than the recommended minimum of 12. I gave you Bonus Months, my dear, but at some point in the near future I'd like to have my body back. You are insistent and attached and show no signs of letting up. So now begins the gentle weaning process. Wish us both luck.


As of right now you will eat anything. In fact, you are a bit of a foodie. That's one thing you have in common with the boys. You love vegetables, meat, dairy and bread. Pork and cheese top the list this month. You like to use forks and spoons and drink water from an adult straw. You insist on doing it yourself and making a colossal mess. Baths come after meals here.

For all of your action-adventure tendencies, you are a good listener. Please keep that up... I LOVE IT. Your dislikes right now include sitting in a high chair for more than a few minutes, being left alone for even a second, and having something of interest taken from you. Your obsessions include standing on the kitchen stepstool trying to reach my nectarine basket and standing on the bathroom stepstool trying to reach the water and brush your own teeth.


Some days you make it tricky to get anything done, but somehow we do. You are relentless with your personal agenda and insatiable in your need for comfort. You have never been soothed with a bottle, binky, blankie or cuddly anything. That thumb only lasted a few weeks. Oh... I had such high hopes for the thumb. That leaves me as your primary comfort-er. In my most exhaustive state I remind myself that this phase won't last. None of them do. But the incredible bond we have created absolutely will. In the meantime, you look at me and my heart melts to mush. Your goofy grin, silly dance, and mischievous chuckle have altered my universe in the most unexpected, joyous ways. Your Daddy and I thank God for the adventure that is you. Happy 16 months Bleu girl.

~ Mama

Photo Gallery: Rib Fest

8.16.09

He's 3 Going on 4

8.25.09





Does that mean I should stop taking pictures of him on the toilet? Because that would be a shame. The faces I get are priceless.

Tankini

8.25.09




Man oh man. Where did the time go? Two seconds ago she was a baby, and now she's an Olympic wannabe at 16 months. This chicky is infatuated with water, and she kicks and paddles like she's been doing it for years.



P.S. Buby swam across our pool on Sunday with no bubble, no noodle, no floaty, and no me. Daddy was giving the lesson, and I was running the video.



P.S.S. Blue dot tankini in 2T from here.

Al Fresco Art Session

8.24.09

Yes, I let her paint whatever was on her mind. Just like I did Buby at that age. No, it did not work out well.

Mouthful of Saltines

Completely Essential Alligator Horn

Posted for you, Allison.

It's a Match

Buby faces off with Grandma DJ on 8.21.09.

Driven

8.21.09

Fall Feet, part I

She did NOT like the guy in the red shirt. She especially did NOT like him touching her toes. Despite the fact that she screamed at the top of her lungs {until the moment we left the store}, our shoe fitter was able to get updated measurements on Bleu. She is now a size 6.5 or 7, depending on the shoe.


I opted for the tried-and-true Primigi Alessia. But this time in burgundy patent leather instead of gold. It's a risk, I know. Maybe we'll go back to the gold next time, because I really do love the gold.


We shop at a wonderful little, completely inconvenient store in Paramus, NJ called Jenny Jon. You can buy them at Zappos, too.


Tonight, after Buby went to bed, Bleu marched around the house in nothing but her shiny new shoes. She can't stand to take them off. I'm relieved she approves.

The Bicycle

Here it is. Buby's first "big boy bike." It's the Avigo Road Heat 18-inch. After many a test drive he chose this one. All. By. Himself. I swear... I wasn't even there. My Sweets + Grandma DJ took him to Toys R Us on Saturday while I was at Panera with a friend.


We went back the next day for a new helmet and the completely essential alligator horn. Now if only we could find him a small black wire basket for the front. Ya know... for his rocks and such.


I just realized that the manufacturer's recommended age for this model is 6-8 years, but it's the model that fit Buby's body best. How is that? Our not-so-little dude quickly picked up the art of the two wheeler {with trainers}, and we've been riding all around the village.

Little Swimmers

Buby and galpal Grace had a play date at our house last Thursday. They pretty much covered all the bases. Blocks. Puzzles. Books. Coloring. Board games. Muffins. Cheese. Later we all jumped in the pool to cool off. It was a fantastic afternoon, and I relished the time to catch up with my friend Allison.


By the way, these wee ones have been friends for years. Grace will be in Buby's preschool class this Fall, and I'm already looking forward to seeing her perform in the plays + recitals. She's such a ham!

Pop Art

I love to capture the kids doing nothing in particular. Just going about their day playing, eating, walking. This morning I snapped a few of Bleu doing her very favorite thing. Oh, she likes to climb in and out and in and out and in and out of chairs.


The daylight was too strong and her constant motion blurred all the shots. Normally I would just delete, but during nap time I opened the photos in Photoshop, increased their brightness + contrast levels to about 50, and printed four 8x10s to frame. Behold, a kind of pop art collage for the playroom. A great idea for not-so-great photos.

Five Ties

It was bedtime. There was Buby all cuddled up next to Grandma DJ reading books. Fire dog jammies. Wet hair. That delicious clean-kid smell. Bleu and I were goofing around on the high bed.


In walked Daddy from work. After plenty o' hugs + kisses + how are yous, My Sweets plopped down on the shaggy blue rug next to his boy. He said, "I have something for you" and pulled out a blue + gold silk tie with a fish motif. Buby could not hide it. He was tickled. Ties are so Daddy, which makes them so Buby.


My Sweets pulled out a second tie. "Yeah!!" went Buby. Then Tom offered, "Okay, there's one more..." To which Buby peaked over his Daddy's shoulders and whispered hopeful, "Is there a suit in there for me?" Ha. Not a suit, but a third tie with stars + moons. Cosmically cool.


Tom's office is next to a Century 21 department store, which is awesome. But even more awesome is the fact that the last tie is a Vineyard Vines and retails for $55+. It was marked down, then clearanced, and then scanned for just $1.99. Score!!


For all of his wardrobe woes {quirkiness for how things feel}, Buby LOVES to wear collared shirts -- buttoned up to the top -- with a good tie. Until last week he had just two, and now he has five. I think this calls for a plain blue dress shirt.

Wishing

A happy birthday to Grandma DJ, who left today. We love you.

Old Photo Friday

Hiking the Grand Canyon in 1997 with puppy dog Jazzy.
We were BIG hikers and bikers when we lived out West.