YouTube? We Do!

It helps to have friends in high places! Our friend Brian works for YouTube and he generously scored us the username "eloise"! I just loaded our first YouTube video. It is of the Weez swimming for the first time.



No babies or animals were injured in the filming of this video. XOXO!

To Nap or Not to Nap? That is the question?

Miss Weezy and I have a difference of opinion when it comes to the age old question: To nap or not to nap? I think no-naps makes for a cranky butthole of a baby. Weezy thinks it furthers her artistic endeavors and pushes her spiritually. My 3-month old daughter is well on her way to writing angst-filled poetry- Translation: Without a nap Eloise turns into a Hamlet-inspired drama queen. She could easily put the Ole Bard to shame! Traveling to Phoenix this weekend, even with all of our fun and advenutre, really showed me what I need to work on with Weezy so that we can get the most out of all the fun stuff we have coming up this summer.

She is great on an airplane. My heart soared with pride when, upon exiting the plane, the man who had sat next to Brakes and I was startled to see that we had a baby with us. Eloise had not made a peep the whole flight! She loves to be held and does not mind being passed around to multiple people! Breastfeeding has become so second nature that we've even ditched the nipple gaurds which made public feedings such a hassle! In short: she is the perfect baby, except when it comes to napping. She does not like to nap (she is nosy like me and afraid she'll miss something.) and when she does sleep during the day it is often fitfully and she has to be on someone's lap or chest. Generally she gets overly-tired and super cranky. At home we deal with this by moving up her bedtime or popping her into the swing but while on vacay these options are not availiable. Without sleep our sweet-natured little girl gets super sad and irritable and she totally misses out on fun times... not to mention she stresses her parents out.

In early July we are going on a two week vacation. I have until then to whip her napping routine into shape. This is what she currently does:

Sleeps from 10:30 pm to 5:30 am
Sleeps from 6:00 am to 8:30 am
Sleeps from 10:15 am to 10:45 am
Might take a cat-nap or two in the afternoon (around 3:00 pm) but does not take a significant nap for the rest of the day. By 7:00pm, her tolerance gets really low and Brakes and I start anticipating the bedtime routine which we start between 8:15 and 9:00 pm.

Any suggestions?

The First Greatest Man I Know

A few weeks ago I referred to Brakes as the greatest man I know, which is true but not the whole truth. You see, long before Brakes, was my first love: Daddy. My Daddy was the first greatest man I know.

If it were not for Daddy giving me an example of what to look for in a man, I would not have recognized Brakes as the diamond in the rough that he was almost nine years ago. My dad (in conjunction with Mov) raised me and my siblings with love, joy, understanding, humor, limits, unconditional encouragement, and support. He walked the floor with me night after night when I was a colicky infant (I really appreciate this now). He coached my soccer team even after I informed everyone that you could get a bigger trophy with less running in tee-ball. He taught me to drive when no one else would get behind the wheel with me and he picked out all of my prom dresses. In fact, when I stepped on the hem of my blue taffeta ball gown the morning of prom, Daddy drove around all morning trying to find someone to hem it for me. When he couldn't find a seamstress, he spent 3 hours stitch-witchering it just in time for my date to pick me up at six.

Daddy watched me go from chubby baby to gap-toothed kindergartner. Under his roof, I went from awkward adolescent to hot-shot, fake-ID carrying freshman. Daddy introduced me to Janis Joplin and CCR and he smiled when I drove Mov crazy by wearing vintage clothing and sequins. He only raised his eyebrows when I went off dancing with the girls all nights of the week. And when I met Brakes, he supported my leap of faith and honored my choice to follow Brakes to Utah. When I was ready to throw in the towel and move home, Daddy was the one who set me strait and a little over a year later, he happily walked me down the aisle. Daddy has always been my biggest fan, my most-honest critic, and my best sounding board. Now, as I watch Brakes be a daddy, my only wish is that he and Eloise can have the same closeness I've been blessed to have with my daddy. And that someday, Eloise will call her daddy the greatest man she knows... other than her Grandpav, of course.

We Swing...

Get your mind out of the gutter, you perverts! I am talking about my gorgeous, innocent baby-girl. This weekend we discovered Eloise's great passion in life, second only to moo moos (breast milk): SHE LOVES TO SWING!

She swings in our french-doors doorway, she swings in her papasan swing, and now, she swings at the park too! Feast your eyes on these pics. Notice my sister's adorable little boy Roscoe helping to support Weezy's substantial bod while swinging; what a stud!

Also, please join me in welcoming my newest nephew, Turbo, to the family. Diana and Chris adopted this handsome dude on Saturday. Here is the picture of the happy family:

Weezy Cakes, Weezy Cake, Bakers Woman...

In honor of Weezy's favorite song/activity (Patty Cakes, Patty Cakes!), as well as a nod to Auntie Jasmina's notorious baking cycle, I deemed today Baking Day (specifically, cake baking day)! Last week on the nest the ladies were chatting about something delectable called, CocaCola Cake. You know me, always a sucker for an alliteration, so I knew I had to try it out, especially once I found out that you can substitute oil for soda-pop in most cake recipes. (Who knew!) Plus, we would be able to use up one of the three DietRites left over from Granmov's visit months ago. Brakes and I are not much of pop-drinkers; he knows the chemical makeup of pop and I prefer my Coke with rum and since Weezy is trying to lay off the sauce and I am her food-source, those DietRites have been fruitlessly taking up space in our refrigerator. So I picked up a vanilla cake mix at Trader Joes, (I know, I am a cheater.) grabbed one of Granmov's pops, and the Weez and I embarked upon our first culinary adventure together: Vanilla Coke (err... DietRite) Cake

Weezy was a big help! After it was all done we gave Daddy a taste test while Weezy and I finished off the rest of the Diet Rite. Delicious!

I'd Rather Be Shot

With all of the excitement of my birthday last week, I forgot to write about a major event in our little girl's life. (Weezy, please forgive Mama for being so self-absorbed.) Our sweet, darling, gorgeous baby girl had her first shots and I mean to tell you- they nearly killed me. (There I go being self-absorbed again. Sorry.) Ugh! It was awful! The whole experience was stressful. We started the day off smoothly. I swallowed my nervousness and focused on getting us ready and out the door by a reasonable time. This, I've learned, is often easier said then done. Most of the time I can get Eloise and myself up, fed, dressed, and ready to go within an hour and a half. I have a complicated system involving boobs, burps, bouncy seats, and bribery. The system works like clockwork... until it doesn't. Then all hell breaks loose. The system generally hangs-up when we have another B-word; blow-out. Blow-outs are a real bitch (to continue with the B-theme). On the morning of Eloise's first shots she had not one, not two, but three blow-outs and a spit-up. That is four outfits, people! It is no wonder the laundry is never done.

Once we finally got out the door, I started the drive into the city. Eloise is not in love, or really even in like, with her car-seat. Like her mother, she cannot be bound. So she cried until I remembered her affection for country music. As Kenny Rogers (she is an old school gal) crooned in the back-ground, Weezy softly snored in the back seat and I battled Monday afternoon San Francisco traffic. We left at 2:00pm for our 3:00pm appointment. At 2:50pm I finally pulled in front of the parking garage which is conveniently located about ten feet from the pediatric building entrance.

Or rather it would have been convenient if the lot had not been full. I panicked. I had counted on Brake's TomTom to direct me this far and I didn't know how to reprogram while stuck in traffic. Horns honking and TomTom's clipped British voice chirping, "You have reached your destination. You have reached your destination," I made a snap decision and randomly turned left. Then right. Then left again. I am not the best driver under optimal circumstances. The traffic, the appointment time, and my anxiety about her immunizations proved to be too much and by the time I found another parking garage and I had hiked six blocks with Weezy sloshing around in her sling, I was a sweating, swearing mess.

While in the waiting room I noticed another mom calm, cool, and collected with her baby who looked to be about Weezy's age. In her bag I spied (I am nosy like that) Baby Tylenol. Crap! The one thing the appointment reminder nurse had told me was to remember to give Weezy Tylenol before her shots so that they would not hurt too badly. I was a bad mom. I forgot. Sigh.

Once in the appointment I began to relax. We saw Eloise's pediatrician, whom we adore. We were supposed to transfer to the office 10 minutes from our house once Weezy's jaundice cleared up, but we like Dr. A. so much that I bear the drive to the city for her appointments. I liked this part of the day. This was where Dr. A. told me that my perfect girl is adorable and healthy. I know that all parents think their kid is aces, but I think we can all agree that the Weez is truly, exceptionally cute yet also brilliantly beautiful. Dr. A. certainly seems to think so. That lady has got great taste!

Then the moment I'd been dreading for days: the needle (dunh, duh, dunh, duh)! Weezy was scheduled to get three shots and a nasal vaccine. The needle was huge! It seemed several inches long. Now my girl has got luscious thighs, but I still don't see how a needle that long did not pierce bone. When the needle bit, Weezy went strait as an arrow, screamed louder than she had ever screamed before and her poor face turned beet-red. By the time needle two and three hit her I too was bright red with tears in my eyes. Crying tears, you ask? No, tears of laughter. I, the worst mom in the world, was having one of my very-typical (unfortunately) inappropriate reactions. I was laughing almost as loudly as she was crying. The poor nurse must have thought I was nuts, and as soon as we could we hightailed it out of the injection room (What an awful name!) into a private exam room where Eloise had a little nosh and I loved my poor baby with food to finish off my A+ parenting for the day.

On the way home Weezy slept and I pulled myself together. Brakes was waiting for us with open arms and we spent the rest of the night huddled together with our little baby putting compresses on her bitty bruises and doling out baby Tylenol. She didn't get a fever, which is what I was so worried about, she was just a little more sensitive than usual. All in all, she handled her shots really well, though I think she would agree, perhaps Daddy should take her next time.

Lots (and Locks) of Love

Friday was my birthday. There are a few things I take very seriously in this life; my health, my family, and my birthday. Ask anyone who knows me, I start anticipating my special day at least a month in advance and in the days leading up to May 22nd poor Brakes is bombarded with questions (nags) about my gift and what fabulous event he has planned to celebrate me (I've never claimed humility). It must be spectacular and it must be a surprise. Needless to say, Brakes somewhat despises my birthday and likely the whole month of May. Around May 18th I begin having an irrational middle-child-esque fear that people will forget my birthday or that it will not be a big enough deal. By the time my birthday eve (which I absolutely do celebrate) rolls around I am practically in a frenzy of worry and anticipation; excited yet scared all at the same time...
Well, this year (and to be honest, every year before this year too, I told you my concerns are irrational) I had no need to fear! My husband came up with the most special, most thoughtful, most fantastic birthday present/event ever! He got me a... MAKEOVER!!!!!!!

I love makeup and I am especially vain about my long and luxurious hair however as of late I have been feeling a little lack-luster about my appearance. Call it the baby weight or maybe it is the lack-of-sleep induced black circles under my eyes, but my self-image has shifted slightly since the baby was born. I no longer pass each mirror with a wink and a smile (to my reflection: "loooookiiin gooooood!") and I'll admit there has been some swearing in the bedroom when I try on yet another pair of pre-baby pants that don't fit anymore. Apparently Brakes noticed my sentiment and decided to do something to address the problem head-on. He instituted: Project MILF (Mom I'd Like to Flirt With (I am a nice girl after all). He called his sister, Diana, (who happens to be my BFF and a total beauty guru) and said, "Make it happen!" She planned a fabulous day in the city complete with a trip to my new Mecca, Sephora, and an overhaul by Miss Sarah Mya (http://misssarahmya.com/).

My look, while formerly fabulous, was in definite need of an overhaul! I've had the same hair and make-up routine for the last 9 years; it was time for a change.

Lovely Lena at Sephora gave me a new face (which includes covering up the dreaded dark circles) and taught me how to use make-up brushes, primer, and bronzing shimmer. I now have a day look and night look! Who knew all this fabulous stuff existed? Diana and Lena threw stuff into a sack and Brakes, or as we called him all day, Money-Bags, footed the bill! It was so cool to be spoiled like that and I walked out of Sephora feeling like a million bucks (and it only cost Brakes a couple of hundred, what a deal?)!

Then after a quick stop at Westlake Shopping Center (Diana, Miss San
Francisco, coyly informed me it is a shopping centre, not a mall!) to nurse the Weez, we headed over to Sarah Mya's new salon, Ketér.

My haircut was the cherry on top of my birthday surprise sundae because it gave me the opportunity to do something I have been wanting to do for ages. I donated all of my hair (which is extra thick and healthy thanks to all the pregnancy hormones) to Locks of Love (http://www.locksoflove.org/)! Sarah Mya cut 2 ponytails off! I was not the least bit nervous and it really makes me feel good to know that my hair is going to help make some little kid smile and wink at their reflection in the mirror! It doesn't get much better than that!

Lena, Diana, Sarah Mya, the Weez, and Henry did an amazing job on my birthday surprise makeover and lets just say, I've got my swagger back! I had so much fun being spoiled and pampered; I feel like a better version of my old self again and that is the best birthday present in the world. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go kiss my husband and then put my face on, dahlink! I use bronzer you know? Muah!

Before

After