Archive for February, 2014

Babies are hard

Molly turns 2 on Sunday. It’s crazy! And it’s also awesome. I sometimes miss holding her like a baby and I sometimes miss her sleeping on my chest, but no part of me actually wishes she were a baby again. I love that she’s talking and making jokes and laughing and playing and running and jumping and everything that she does now. Most of all, though, I love that we interact now in a way that feels reciprocal. I don’t always know what she’s saying or what she’s asking me for, and I feel bad that that frustrates her, but for the most part our experiences with each other offer so much tangible connection that these frustrating moments feel like small crosses to bear. In comparison to her time as a baby, there’s no question. When she was a baby, I never felt anything close to the connection I feel to her now. I felt like I gave and gave and gave and she took and took and took. I worry that this sounds selfish, as if I only feel so close to her now because she reciprocates, but it’s true. I don’t think it’d be possible to be a truly loving parent if there weren’t some pay back. At least I couldn’t be one. The pay back now is immeasurable. I feel like sometimes it’s even more gratifying because the beginning was so hard. It’s now that I understand why people do this again and again.

When I read this today, I cried. I knew I wasn’t alone in my thoughts, but I think he’s right that it’s not talked about enough. I’m not sure it can be talked about enough. Those first three months, at a minimum, are pretty damn brutal. But then you get a deeper love than you knew was possible. And it’s awesome.

The rich versus the rest of us

I just watched the documentary Park Avenue: Money, Power & the American Dream and I highly recommended it. It’s not really anything you didn’t know, but it’s a succinct and accurate and depressing and clear portrait of the incredibly scary and sad current state of the vast income inequality in this country. The movie really brought it all home – and socked it to me emotionally – when it concluded the union-busting we all know so well is at the heart of a lot of this disparity. I took a photo of the final frame for you. I’m sure you’ll find it shocking.

20140225-210312.jpg

Late night

This decision to put Jimmy Fallon on The Tonight Show – and Fallon’s acceptance of the job – is the best thing that’s happened EVER. EVER. EVER.

Ok, maybe not ever. But it’s a really good decision. The video clip is an absolute delight.

First chop

I’d been saying for months that we needed to get Bear’s locks chopped, but I’d been procrastinating it for even longer. I finally decided that this past weekend was the time to do it and committed to a Sunday morning trip to Great Clips. I’d heard they’re good with kids, conveniently located and inexpensive. Sold. After having told me in December that he didn’t want me to get Bear’s hair cut without him there, AO said he didn’t really care that much after all. Especially when faced with the alternative option of a morning of alone time. I can’t blame him. So, on Sunday morning, Bear and I met Grandma Mary and Grandma Sev for brunch at Pasqual’s and followed it up with a quick trim. I had anticipated Bear would hate the whole experience (the haircut, not the brunch), but she was a total trooper. So brave!

Behold, an overly documented first trip to the salon:

Not a very good before shot

Not a very good before shot

In the chair

The cut

This finger-sucking thing just started that day.

Handling it

I have lots and lot of video, too, but I’ll spare you.

It's really happening

Blow dry!

All done!

It actually doesn’t look all that different, but I think she said she took about an inch and a half off. And she certainly evened out the chopped up (sorry, MBear) bangs. The videos really show how nervous Molly clearly was, but she didn’t cry or whine or even fidget all that much. As I said, such a trooper.

 

 

Waiting…

So I wanted to wait to write a new post until I had some interesting news to share, but it feels like that’s never going to happen. This house buying-and-selling process feels like this winter: never-ending. We are waiting for the underwriters at the credit union to approve the loan, which feels like it’s taking one hundred years, but I guess it’s only been since Monday. We are working to get all the little things (and big) in our place in good condition for our seller. This includes having a new (working!) air exchanger put in, which was done a couple of weeks ago, some window cranks replaced and some wiring enclosed, both of which should be done next week or soon thereafter. I’d like to be able to feel more definite about this whole move, but it still feels fragile as well as distant.

So, let’s talk about something else…Anyone see Inside Llewyn Davis? I liked it. I don’t think I loved it, but I enjoyed it and thought it was an interesting tale. AO is completely obsessed with the Please, Mr. Kennedy song and sings it every day. He’s even gotten Molly into it and sometimes if he says, “Outer,” she will say, “Space.” It’s pretty fun. What’s not fun, though, is that it’s not nominated for an Oscar for best song. Apparently it doesn’t qualify as “original.” I bet all the other nominees (I’m looking at you, Bono) were relieved to hear that.


February 2014
S M T W T F S
 1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
232425262728  

Join 75 other followers