August 31st, 2015
That’s how old you are today.
When our friends mention your name, they call you “Baby Bear,” and then smile sheepishly, because you’re not really a baby anymore. Or you are, but only to me. (And you’ll never get big enough to outgrow that!)
Because suddenly, in the last few months, our little baby became a kid! It’s the craziest thing — it feels like a moment ago that you couldn’t even hold your head up by yourself, and now you’re running, dancing, throwing a basketball (I kid you not. A full size basketball!) and asking for bubbles and Rambo by name.
What! How did that happen so fast?
Parenting a toddler is totally different than parenting a baby, and I have to say — I think it’s a lot more fun. Sure, newborn snuggles were wonderful (I miss them sometimes when you won’t sit still in my lap anymore!) but it’s so much more exciting to watch your personality grow and take form. To actually communicate with you, even if your vocabulary is still limited. (‘Yes’ and ‘No’ were life-changing developments!) To make faces and watch you laugh, or see you bop your head to the songs that we sing.
There are a million little things I’d like to remember about the last month, but my favorites, by far, were these…
… how you call both me and Chad “Mama.” Sure, this breaks my heart a little bit (I’m your one and only Mama, kid!) but it’s also so darling. We’ve started explaining to you that I’m the Mama-Mama and Chad is the Dad-Mama. And we also regularly explain to our families and babysitters that Bear thinks he has two mamas. Funny kiddo!
… dancing with you to Let It Go! Ok, ok, sometimes you get cranky at the end of the day. But one day, after dinner, when we were playing in the kitchen, Let It Go came on my phone and I decided to teach you some goofy ballerina moves. For the next three minutes, we twirled and leaped around the kitchen together, and you thought it was hilarious to mimic every move I showed you. If only I’d caught it on video — this would be excellent blackmail material for your teenage years!
… Hi Mama! Every morning these days, you greet me standing up in your crib with an excited “Hi!” I love it! I’m not a morning person and your 7 a.m. wake-ups are pretty tough for me, but opening the door and hearing a big “Hi!” and a smile makes it all worth it. (Sort of. It would also be worth it at 8 a.m., just in case you were wondering…)
… Banana. Ok, so, this one was my bad. Again, at the end of the day last week, we were done with dinner and playing in the kitchen. And I took out a banana and told you what it was, and you repeated back to me “ba-nweh” or whatever toddler approximation sounded a tiny bit like the word I’d just said.
And I freaked out. I was so excited (a three-syllable word! you’re heading straight to Harvard!) that I kept repeating it to you, over and over: “Banana! Banana! Banana!”
And then I realized that you had a banana graphic on your shirt. Yes — on your little tee shirt was a picture of a banana. So I picked you up and we ran over to a mirror, and I pointed at your shirt and tried to show you the banana picture, which was basically me just pointing at your chest and saying “Banana!” again and again.
And then we went back to the original banana and I decided it would be funny to pretend the banana was a phone, so I picked it up and held it to my ear and said, “hello?”
And then you took the banana and did the same thing, held it up to your ear like it was a telephone… and then looked at me with a very perplexed expression.
And suddenly I realized that I had just confused you beyond any possible understanding of what the word “banana” actually meant.
First, it was pretty clear. This is a banana.
And then I grabbed you and pointed at your chest in the mirror and basically said “You’re a banana.”
And then we got back down on the ground and I told you that we use them as telephones.
This is a banana. You’re a banana. And we have conversations, using bananas.
Yes, our son calls his dad ‘Mama.’
And he will probably call just about everything else he lays eyes on: ‘Banana.’
Happy Sixteen Months, Baby Bear. I love you so.
August 9th, 2015
Usually I use a fancy camera for my Sugarlaws shots, but this photo was taken with my iPhone.
Do you want to know why?
It’s because last weekend, Chad and I were taken down by the most epic stomach bug I’ve ever encountered.
I mean: knocked us out, flat on our backs, for 24 hours. I literally couldn’t sit up.
I’ll avoid the gruesome details (you‘re welcome), since this is a food post and all, but I’ll tell you without a moment’s hesitation… this stomach bug was pure misery in its most visceral form.
At around eight p.m., Bear fell asleep and Chad and I went into our bedroom and just lay there in bed, too exhausted to do anything else.
And suddenly Chad says to me, “this was kind of a fun day.”
Obviously, I looked at him, like, um, did you have some different day than the one I had? Because mine involved puking into a container next to the bed for about five hours straight. (Sorry, I told you that I’d avoid the details, but there they are. Hey, internet. Here’s a story about me vomiting. And a recipe. Because that’s not gross or anything.)
So, anyways. “Fun” isn’t exactly how I’d describe our day. But Chad persevered, and explained that the stomach bug itself was terrible, but that we’d spent the day working together, taking care of our son and taking care of each other. When one of us was capable of walking, we’d get the other Gatorade from the fridge. Chad took Bear in the morning, and I put him to bed. Between the two of us, we had a day that was physically horrific, but we’d gotten through it, together. And that night, at a whopping 8 p.m. on the dot, we celebrated getting through it, together.
And then we turned out the lights and went to sleep.
And the next morning, I realized the funniest thing. Without having any idea that we were about to get sick, I’d stocked up on all the ingredients for chicken noodle soup. I’d specifically bought fresh celery and carrots and chicken and egg noodles and all the stuff we’d need to make this recipe with exactly zero effort.
So? I made it.
And then, having expended the full amount of energy I had available that day, I couldn’t bring myself to drag out my SLR camera just to snap a shot. I took one with my iPhone, called it a day, and went back to bed.
Chicken Noodle Soup
2 tablespoons butter
1 large onion, chopped
1 cup chopped celery
6 cups chicken broth
2 cups vegetable broth
1 pound chicken breast
2 cups egg noodles
2 cup sliced carrots
1/2 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp black pepper
Sea salt to taste
In a large pot, saute onions in butter until soft and translucent. Add broth, celery, chicken breast, carrots, and spices, and simmer for about 45 minutes, stirring every once in a while. Fifteen minutes before the soup is finished, add egg noodles and cook to al dente. Serve warm.
July 13th, 2015
Here’s a parenting side effect that no one talks about: the photos.
Oh my gosh, you guys. The photos.
Let’s not discuss that I have an entire cloud storage account devoted to the 10,000 or so pictures that I took of Bear’s first year alone.
Let’s not discuss the 400 videos I took of his first year.
Let’s not even begin to discuss all the times my phone has run out of storage and the countless hours I’ve spent deleting shots of my shoes or my lunch or whatever it takes to make room for his goofy little smile or videos of him toddling shakily around our house.
Instead, let’s talk about what gets lost in the minute-by-minute photo-documentation of life that we’re all guilty of. You know what gets lost? The highlights.
Those special moments get drowned into the hundreds of photos on Instagram, the thousands in “the cloud” that never get looked at again.
When I was growing up, my mom painstakingly saved every snapshot, organized into boxes that lined our closets. She labeled the back of each one with “Katy Birthday 1989” or “Emily Halloween October 1992” so she always knew where to find them. Things are a little easier these days — I can hit “Ctrl+F” and find all my photos from November 2014, or log in to Facebook to see what I’ve saved. But sometimes I get jealous of the limits that came with storing physical photos — you couldn’t take 10,000 shots, because where would they go? Now they go nowhere, and so we take them all.
But sometimes, you want a moment that’s a little more special. The incredibly talented Kate shot these of me and Bear a few weeks ago, and it was a great reminder that sometimes it’s better to pick quality over quantity. I’ve been insanely busy lately, and sometimes I worry that a week or two has gone by undocumented (gasp!) and I get concerned that I’ve missed some special moment without capturing it in digital form. But then I look at photos like this and I try to remember: sometimes one beautiful moment, perfectly captured, is better than 10,000 shots that I’ll never look at again. In an ideal world, I’d do both. But when the days are too short, I try to remind myself that it’s ok to just live my life instead of documenting it.
Even if, at the end of the day, what gets saved are a few snapshots and a lot of memories.
Loren Hope necklace, Maggy London dress, GiGi New York clutch, Jimmy Choo heels.
Photo Credit: Kate Robinson Photography
June 30th, 2015
Last week was a pretty incredible one. As I’m sure you all know by now, the Supreme Court issued a long-awaited ruling affirming the right to marriage on behalf of all United States Citizens, no matter their sexual orientation.
And on Friday morning, minutes after the decision was published, I sat down, read the opinion, and cried tears of joy.
In our world, progress often comes very slowly and then all at once. This victory was the result of years of courage and patience on behalf of the litigants, attorneys, and the entire LGBT community. It was a long time coming. Too long. But it came. And it was so beautiful when my Facebook page was suddenly filled with rainbow profile pictures in celebration.
There were a number of moving passages in the Supreme Court’s opinion, but my favorite was this: “The nature of injustice is that we may not always see it in our own times.” We all come of age in a society that we didn’t shape, with influences around us that put a filter on what we view as wrong and right. And seeing through that filter — realizing that injustice exists and needs to be fixed — is the best thing we can do for each other.
Our rights as citizens are stronger when they are applied equally. Marriage, as an institution, is stronger when everyone is given equal access to it. Our Constitution didn’t create privileges for a select few. It acknowledged certain human rights, under the law, for everyone.
This was a legal victory, of course. And it was a personal victory for the millions of LGBT citizens whose rights were affected by the decision. But it was also a human rights victory for our country and the world.
It’s fitting that the weekend that followed celebrated LGBT Pride, because that’s exactly what I felt when I read the Supreme Court’s opinion. I felt incredibly proud.
Congratulations to all the newlyweds this week!
June 23rd, 2015
He’s so big these days!
Bear started walking a few months ago, and I know it’s such a cliche to say this, but, seriously, chasing down a toddler is exactly as exhausting as it sounds! He is such a blast these days — my tiny baby suddenly turned into a little boy! I still can’t believe how fast it’s gone. (Another cliche, but still completely true.)
And here’s a new thing… he dances! One morning, I was singing a song to him and he started dancing — it was actually the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
My little guy can totally groove!