9 year old pumpkin

On October 25, 2003, I had planned on waking up and going pumpkin picking with my little girl.

Instead we welcomed a little pumpkin of our own.

 

You’ll be shocked to know that he was just perfect.

He slept for most of his first year of life. Went in at 7pm and woke up sometimes at 8am (no joke).

When he was awake he just stared at you with that face. And those eyes. It was killer. Still is.

 

Then the hyper speed went into effect.

He grew and grew and grew. Notice the curls. The perfect, insane curls.

 

 

And grew

 

Cut to today.

Cake for breakfast with a 9-year-old silly, funny, happy but sleepy boy. Two seconds after this picture was taken, and right before he blew out this candle, he lifted his leg and farted. True story.

 

 

 

1998

I need to do one more post about my baby starting high school.

It has to happen. Indulge me. I need it. Because I think I’m going to break down.

She was just born – yesterday. I remember it very clearly, and I have an awful memory, trust me – I don’t remember what happened this past weekend.

She was a week early. We were living in New York City in a one bedroom walk-up. My husband was on the couch – because we’d just had a great, big fight and i had kicked him out of bed. I don’t remember what the argument was about but I’m sure I was right. I went into labor at 5am.

We hopped a cab to the hospital – my water broke around 82nd street. I’m sure worse things have happened in a cab. We tipped him well.

Then it’s a blur – involving a revolving epidural and some really great nurses.

And at 9:00 on the dot – she was there.  Botoxed lips and all.  And then everything started on fast forward…

And today – she’s off to high school – 9th grade – 4 years away from college…gulp.  Maybe she won’t go to college, maybe she’ll stay with me forever? Pray for that.

I’m proud, I’m happy, I’m sad, I’m proud.

If I could will the universe to make things good for her I would – but she doesn’t need it. I need it. I need it bad.

Thank god I still have my 10 foot tall baby boy.

Hipstamatic Hysteria

First of all – hello.  Did you miss me yesterday?  I missed you.   Saturday posts are tough in the summer – lots of running around and enjoying the good weather type of stuff.  Don’t worry – it’ll be over soon enough.

I was going to write this post yesterday, and tell you all about the Hipstamatic app.  Do you know about it? Are you loving it? And more importantly, how come no one told me about it?

A fun side benefit – now you can sing Grease Lighting and insert the word Hipstamatic every time Danny Zucko says the word automatic.  Seriously, I’m singing it in my head right now. Lots of fun.

Where were we…. It’s the coolest app of all apps.  Really.  Go get it.  Instagram who? You’ll never look back. It’s worth the $1.99 price tag (and then I may have added a few upgrades to drive that price to $3.00).

Anyway – we had some good friends over to visit this weekend and had loads of fun – this morning we took them to our favorite antique/flea market.  Here’s our outing in hipsta photos…

 

This is my pal and her hubby.  Aren’t they extra cute? Love them.  The other shot is of her and my little guy.  She met him 2 seconds after he was born.  Let’s just say she thought she was coming up for a relaxing weekend in the country and instead she was part of 3 ring circus that involved:  semi-graphic post birth horror show (I’ll save the details for another time), Indian relatives streaming in and out of said horror show, and me, all drugged up and completely oblivious to how close I was to death.  Good times.

 

They had some cool stuff at the market – but I think it looks even cooler with these funky filters.  I feel very cutting edge and mod.

 

 

I didn’t buy anything cutting edge and mod – I bought what I always buy.  A pair of big earrings.  I also bought this little leprechaun statue thingi for a friend because I immediately thought of her and her man when I saw it.  When I got home and looked at it more closely I realized it was a drunken little man leaning up against a post which is slightly offensive – and makes me even more excited to give it to her! Is that bad?

 

Here’s two more random, non related shots.  Please consider yourself lucky – there are 1,000 more pictures I won’t be posting!

Look! The Hipstamatic makes my girl look even cooler and prettier – didn’t know that was possible.  And look! It makes a random sky shot seem moody and Twin Peaksesque.  Ok – I’ll stop. For today.

 

40 is the new black

At 10 I was living in Albany,NY with my parents enjoying my last year as an only child, having as much fun as I could, happy as a clam.

At 20 I was in NYC, going to college, shacked up with my boyfriend, his family became my family, my friends were my life, I was completely clueless and again, happy as a clam.

At 30 I was married to that boy, we moved out of NYC, we had our first house, our first baby, and absolutely no idea of how we were going to make it, and I really was happy as a clam.

At 40 I am still shacked up with that same boy (legally),  we have another house, in another town, 2 punky kids that are surrounded by love (thanks to our unstoppable family and friends), and, well, you know. Clam. Happy. Me.

A ritual, a habit and an obsession walk into a family….

Ritual:

I have the same thing for breakfast every morning.

Toast (usually sourdough but sometimes rye) and coffee.

Truth be told – most days I have 2 breakfasts,

one  at 7:00am – because I’m a 100 years old,

and the other at about 9:30am – with the rest of the world, to keep them company (another cup of coffee, one piece of toast)

Habit:  

For as long as we’ve lived here, as soon as he gets home from work,

my husband walks into the house, takes off his shoes, and leaves them for dead.

There are 3 other people living here, where are all the other shoes you ask?

They’re a few feet away, in a shoe rack

(or at least in very close proximity of the shoe rack).

      

Obsession:

When my babies were born, they were each given a receiving blanket.

My daughter was gifted her blanket by a close family friend,

it was simple, white and cotton, she named it Blankie

My son was given his by a beloved aunt who made it for him,

he calls it Blue Blankie or Yangster

Ofcourse today, 13 and 8 years later, respectively

they are a ball of yarn and a shred of cloth.

They have literally been loved to death.


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