Anyone out there?

I can't imagine anyone still has me in their reader after going AWOL months and months ago, but in case you remember me, I have launch a much more comprehensive, new blog at www.tablefor2andahalf.com. Please come visit me there! Thanks!

H is too sexy

Yes, I just called my nearly eight-month-old son (eeeek!) "sexy." But that's how the song goes, peeps. I cannot change the words.

So why is H too sexy? Oh, because he is a model, you know what I mean. And he did his little turn on the catwalk.

OK, so again, the song doesn't exactly work. It was more like a sit on a hayride. But same diff, right?

So perhaps now I will explain in words that actually make sense. Last week, H was a proud participant in a photo shoot for my company. We are working on our new marketing collateral and did a few shoot around the local area and H made an appearance or two. Chilling in an apple orchard. Throwing hay into the air with reckless abandon. He loves the camera, and it loves him.

So in a few short weeks, H will be famous. At least to those who receive our brochures. One step on the way to world domination.

Baby, I'm amazed

It really is crazy to be able to watch someone learn something. The detailed thought process, the first few failed attempts, the slowly growing confidence. And, ultimately, the mastering and subsequent pride.

Having a baby allows me to watch this amazing journey, in one stage or another, on a daily basis. It's like my own personal Discovery Channel.

H suddenly took on three new skills in the span of three days:

Pincher grasp. H has been working on this one, but it was hit or miss. Typically, the Puffs we practiced with would end up in his palm, and he would slam his entire fist into his mouth in the hopes that one or more would land within. This weekend, the delicate thumb to pointer maneuver suddenly became clear. He eyed the Puff. He slowly lowered the hand, fingers apart and at the ready. Grab, raise, and -- success! So in love with his new ability, H has been showing it off randomly ever since. Chilling on the changing table, watching the puppy, in the bath ... he'll suddenly stop, look at his hand, and repeatedly open and close his two fingers. Just making sure he still has the power. So adorable.

Clapping. I make H clap all the time, but it occurred to me last week that if babies learn much through imitation, I should be clapping more often. So it began -- every event was cause for jubilant celebration. We clapped when H finished dinner. Clapped when a good song came on the radio. Clapped when Daddy got home. Suddenly, he was clapping, too. No, not when I did it. Again, this skill is showing itself at the most random of times. He doesn't seem to understand its connection to joy, he only sees it as this really cool bringing together of his hands. I'll turn around and he'll be clapping away, and then when I try and join in, he stops and looks at me like I'm nuts. Which, perhaps, I am.

Sitting-to-crawling. No, we have not mastered crawling yet, but he's one step closer. H now throws his hands forward while sitting and pushes his body weight on his chubby fists, boosting himself into a crawling pose. Then, of course, he just hangs there until he slides to his tummy or cries in frustration, but again, it's the right direction. Literally.

With all this quick learning in a few short days, I'm now totally convinced he's going to pick up other things in a matter of seconds. I'll look up at the TV and he'll be crawling, or I'll go to answer the phone and he'll be walking behind me. Crazy, amazing, wondrous boy.

Preppy Mafia Share-A-Thon

So the lovely Mrs. Bro tagged me, and in turn, here is the dirt on yours truly.

1. Who is your Style Icon?

Seriously, Reese can do no wrong. Always lovely, always pulled together. Mom, actress, activist, and yet she always looks like she's got a stylist in her back pocket. Love.

2. What is your favorite Socialite Lit. Book?

Mrs Bro, I'm with you with the classics. The new stuff may have humor, but Emily has poise. Randomly, my hubs had a copy of this at his condo when we were dating (he claims it was his aunt's....) and I actually referred to it whilst wedding planning. Gal knows her stuff.

3. Favorite party theme?

For nearly any event, I love me a black and white gala. So classic and so hip at the same time. The possibilities are endless. Note: I will sadly NOT be using this for H's first birthday festivities. When it comes to the kiddos, I get a little more colorful. :)

4. Go-to Halloween costume

Don't you just lurve the crinoline? OK, so perhaps not this exact version, but I have pulled out some form of the cop at least four times in the past few years. Any excuse to break out my handcuffs. ;)

5. Extravagance you can't live without.

Out at the club and sippin that bub....oh, how I love thee, champagne.

6. Living person you admire.

My grandparents. What they do for their children (and grandchildren) is such an example to our whole family. Love them to pieces.

7. Greatest Fear?

OMG, I actually did a Google Image search for this, and nearly had a heart attack when the results came up. What the F was I thinking??? Ok, so it's fish. I know, lame. But seriously. The freak me out. Especially the freaky exotic ones with teeth and like tentacles and stuff. Ughhhhh.

8. Traits you deplore in yourself.

I'm never happy. I mean, sure, I'm happy as in the mood. But I'm never satisfied. I cannot achieve my on standards. I always think I'm lagging behind and need to get in gear. And in turn, I take on waaaaay too much and am surprised when I simply cannot handle it all. Vicious cycle.

9. What talent would you most like to have?

I love to sing. I sing like a drunken karaoke wannabe with laryngitis. Unless you ask H. H thinks my voice is as sweet as marionberry pie. One of the reasons I love the kid.

10. What is your greatest achievement?
Being where I am today. And in some respects (see above), I feel like I should have some shiny award on a shelf to brag about. But I have everything my childhood self could have dreamed of and more, and honestly, what more do I need? I have an amazing husband, the most darling little son ever, great fam and friends, a roof, a job, etc. I'm blessed and I think the greatest achievement is being here and not yet having messed it all up!

OK, need to forward this puppy along. Mrs. Trophy Wife, CannonBall, Mrs H, Ro, and Mitzi ... it's go time!

A boy and his dog

Long time no blog. Sorry, folks. As if anyone actually reads this. Ha.

It's been a crazy week being maxed-out and all. Work plus home renovations plus three freelance assignments plus H plus a nasty stomach bug that attacked me yesterday. Not only do I feel short on time, but on energy, patience, and electrolytes.

Poor H had to deal with me yesterday after school, and thank goodness he's getting old enough to entertain himself for a few moments. While I laid on the ground next to him randomly interjecting things like "Good job, buddy" and "Whoo hoo," H chewed on his Sophie, banged around some blocks, and attempted to take apart a few board books. When those lost their appeal, in stepped babysitter to the stars, F. Yes, the 13-pound doxie.

H + F = Hilarity. H thinks that the dog is the best toy EVER. The dog can do no wrong. She is heaven on four stubby legs.

F thinks that the baby is a very odd disturbance. Some days she's all into licking him to death, others she could not be bothered to look his direction. Many times, both moods end up with her trying to shove herself between me and the baby in a bid for ultimate cuteness supremacy.

They really are good buds, though. H always wants to touch the pup, and she's calm and good enough to take it. Because H hasn't exactly mastered petting yet. It's more like a slap across the face. And a pull on the ears. And a pinch on the side. And God bless her, the dog takes it.

Last night, thankfully, they were in good form. F was content to play by herself in the form of pouncing on her pink elephant and making it squeak. And H was content to watch this mini circus. And then W came home and saved me from my pukey self.

Now to catch up on everything I didn't do yesterday while willing my Canada Dry to stay down....

Sooooooo big!

Well compared with an 8 lb newborn, that is. We went to visit a friend's new lil one this past weekend and I was shocked to see how tiny she was next to my big boy. I cannot believe H was ever that small. How can so much change in seven short months? How is my little guy seven months already?

Aside from just being larger in size, H is hoping over milestones like he's playing hopscotch. He hugs now. Strangely, very tightly when he's naked (I don't know, don't ask!). He kisses, too. There's more drool than lip, but he'll grab your face and plant one on ya with gusto.

He's also taken to some serious babbling. Dadadadadada, babababababa, nonononono, yeayeayeayeayea, mamamamama. Yea, mama is the least popular of the blurbs, but it's ok. He's also currently in the "Mama Or No One" phase, so it all balances out.

Crawling is also just days/weeks away, me thinks. He's really into getting on all fours now, but he just hangs there, looking around. Then he rocks a bit, then lets his legs slowly slide backwards until he's doing the Cobra pose. He knows what to do, it seems, he's just working up the strength to go for it. He can take his sweet time I've decided....one more day immobile is one more day without an ugly toilet seat lock in the powder room.

Thankful

I am not a very emotional person. I didn't cry on my wedding day. I didn't cry when H was born. I was happy, elated, all that good stuff. But it takes a lot to really get me phased. Being able to roll with the punches has served me well in life and helped me get through a number of both sad and fabulous occasions. But it also makes those stomach-punch days so much more crippling.

This past week, for some reason, the emotions have gotten the best of me. I don't know what has triggered it ... perhaps the highs and lows all at once are just more than any girl can really handle. A dear friend welcomed a little girl into the world, days later another lost her's 22 weeks into pregnancy. My hubby sends me a silly email reminding me how amazing he is and then I read a blog post about a 23-year-old loosing her husband in the war. It's up and down and it just gets me. It makes me nauseated. It makes me wonder how things like this can happen. How can I be so lucky and such wonderful people be dealt news like that? What would I do if the next time, it was me?

I know all I can do it be thankful for what I have been blessed with. Hug and H every night and thank God he's healthy and happy. Kiss W each morning and not take a second of our marriage for granted. The "what ifs" get you no where. But it's impossible not to fall victim to them.

Say a little prayer. Be thankful.