it's our anniversary

or, it was. in celebration last night, we went to the P&L for the first time. i was impressed with the cleanliness, depressed by the lack of activity at the delightfully-smelling Chefburger (this is one of the few local, non-chain spots in the P&L and as such is tops on this quasi-vegetarian's list to check out). As Jay aptly observed, They're going to have to do something really special to get people down here on a weeknight to keep this place from rolling up at 6pm like the rest of downtown. He's right. A brighter spot was the Bristol, where we dined on goat cheese bruschetta, salmon and lobster ravioli. The place was positively packed for a (wha?) Tuesday night downtown. But from the looks of it, it was the ONLY place with such hubbub. I decided this crowd came mostly from business diners looking to stick it to the Man on the old expense account. Also, spotted a couple of tables of those middle-aged single female weirdos who like to pretend their lives are Sex in the City episodes and Kansas City is NYC. One group had so thoroughly convinced themselves they were living on a coast that they were actually tossing back oysters with their conspicuously-oversized martini glasses (look everyone! this is something exotic called a 'martini').
anyway, back to the event at hand. we shared some laughs at an old souvenir from our first sexy date and talked about our past and future. Over a viognier, we reminisced about these 3 years and the challenges ahead parenting these two little nugs. All in all, the stuff great anniversaries are made of -- minus my failed last-minute attempt to come up with a gift, for I had forgotten the date (this stay at home mom stuff pretty much robs me of all motivation and clarity by the end of each day). Jay told me, "you're such a husband." :P I guess so, except I really feel bad about it. next year, my pretty, it's on!
In other news, Pom has the long-awaited, much-anticipated, hybrid in arms finally. Congrats on gestating up another human, pom. well done.

dvds might be for lazy parents, yes

but one provided me with this little slice of heaven today. a 2-hr nap by Baby Awesome. Unheard of.

Ok, Baby Ninja (though I've started calling her Zissou lately because is sort of sounds like sister in baby talk) is crying for the teet. and no, shan, thanks for the warning, but i think i'll be able to ween her sometime before the age of eight. (seriously, watch this. eh, i find it disturbing to say the least.)

One week under my belt

So we close really our first week alone together at home. And, it was a doozy with the unpredictable weather outside. We:
fingerpainted
played at Shawnee Mission Park
went to the library twice (Ro and Bebe got their first library cards!)walked the neighborhood
talked to mormons canvassing the hood
played on the beer-bottle and trash riddled playground of our local park
skipped naps
went to story time
vacuumed the first floor repeatedly for an hour
visited jay on his lunch break downtown
I may have pulled out all my trick ponies just in the first week here. What will next week hold. Who knows, but I'm glad to have bought 48 hours of respite.

Also, Bebe is the next frakking Starbuck, mofos. She is staring rapt at the tv alongside her dad watching Battlestar.

goings on in preutopia: week in review in photos

Last Friday, I got my first night of freedom with my friend Summie. We visited KC's only professional crowd-pleaser in a toupee and red sequins... that's right, Al Lotta of the Cigar Box.Jay has taken to baking like a fish to water. Sundays are his day to take our own little Food Network-esque challenge. I get a random baking ingredient at the store for him to build a treat around. Last week's spotlight ingredient: dark chocolate chips
Ro enjoying the bounty.
Ro really enjoys employing something we refer to around here as 'the stink eye'. Yep, it's menacing.
I signed the boys up for parent and tot swim lessons. I bought him some cute little trunks that he was less than pleased to be wearing. However, by all reports, the crumb-cruncher dunked in the water like a sailor and had a hell of a time.

We're keeping busy during the day.
Clean up:
Dang, we're ready for summer and loving these 70 degree days. Ro showing his summer flava and the little wife-beater I got for him so he could fit in in our 'hood.
In other news, Bebe is my homegirl. Here she is showing some love for the Westside.In yet other news, R.I.P. Short Change Chuck. Sounds like a rough life if that's your street moniker, Chuck. Hope you're better off wherever you are now.

ray of hope

today was a turning point. Ro, Bebe, and I went to Target and the park today. Ro sang along to At War With the Mystics and loved all the hot jams on that record. We got stuff bought at the store, and Ro played outdoors and we even took at little hike in the wet grass. He scored a ball left behind at the entirely empty playground. Bebe got hungry so I fed her on the playground and wouldn't you know as soon as I get my boob out, the Johnny On the Spot truck pulls into our secluded little enclave of funtime. Ah well, modesty's been out the window for awhile. I got Ro back into the car with little drama and he was out asleep even amid Bebe's wailing.
Today, I felt that maybe this whole cockamamie idea of staying home just might work out after all.
In other news, yesterday was my last official day working for the corporation. I went in to pack the rest of my stuff, say goodbye, pick up Ro's blanket from the daycare that we forgot there, and turn in my 'device'. Yeah, that's actually what they call it. It was weird and I felt like I couldn't really pry my hands off the 'device'. It was too final. I've had between one and three jobs continuously since I was 14 years old. This is fucked up feeling. I'm a leech on society or something.
On the bright side, a co-worker who shared the same due date with me is also deciding to stay home and she's invited me to her mom's group. Apparently, most of her friends are stay at home moms. Which is good, because this shit is all new to me. I had no stay at home mom mentoring. I seriously didn't know any in my family or close-knit circle. All the ones I knew had kids who I really didn't have much in common with (like a lack of independence or personal accountability. Uh, what? That's my deepest darkest fears talking there is all. Don't take offense, you non-latchkey ilk. )

guilty mom syndrome

set in last night and I cried before bed. Friday was Ro's last day at his school and he had to say good-bye to all his little homies. Of course, to him, it was pretty much like any other day getting picked up from school. I think he knew something was up though because he gave me lots of hugs when he got home. Anyway, in opposition to the more common scenario of a young mom crying as she leaves her child at school, I was crying because he won't be going anymore. I'm thinking about all the ways he's grown in the last 7 months. All the things he's learned. All his little friends and all the teachers he charmed... Will he manage to stay as engaged in the world even as he stays home all day with me and his infant sis? I just feel like I'm robbing him of his identity somehow. Of all the learning opportunities and interpersonal development he's had there.
It's breaking my heart. This morning, his first day home, he was cool for the first couple of hours, but then, without Dad there and no other distractions, he was like a caged animal. I really can't do much with him with an infant on my teet half the time. how am i going to do this.

we're teaching her early

bears are not your friends.

Shipwrecked: Week 5

Starting our 5th week of quarantine. Bebe and I are near madness with cabin fever. In fact, I think being shipwrecked would actually be more entertaining. At least the sea changes. There'd be something to watch. Instead, we watch each other. I certainly have the better end of the deal since she's starting to do new and amazing things each day. I on the other hand change very little so I can understand her fitful cries of boredom. I'm pretty sure if I were stuck in the Rockies on a failed expedition, I would've eaten everyone in the first week if for no other reason than for something simply to DO. And judging from how I've hit the Spicy Buffalo Doritos bag this week, that is probably more accurate than I'd like to admit.

Happy birthday, Bebe! You are one month old. And freedom is at hand -- in a couple of weeks, that is. smooches.

it's on!

Pomie has started the rube goldberg machine that is the labor process. It could be today or next week, but either way, the hybrid is ready to make an appearance. exciting times.

Celo called the other day to tell me he got a promotion. Now director of marketing for a solar panel manufacturing co in N.M. Pretty sweet.

Summie continues to heart her new gig with the Fish.

Nelle has moved to a cush gig (it must be right -- a signing bonus was involved) albeit in Olathe. Which is awful but I suppose a small price to pay for glory.

bebe is filling her diapers with an odd grainy orange soup poo. usually accompanied by a trumpetous blow from her tiny anoos.

More and more of you are winning jobs and generally being badasses that I'm proud to know. Now let me ride your coattails in about 3 years. :)

chip off the old babka

look at this little snooker. she's a doll. a really chubby one -- she's already surpassed the 9 pound mark, lapping all those newborns in our family and friends circle who also arrived in March and April.

the sands casino corp needs to fire their marketing firm

because after receiving automatic phone calls every night for the past month, i'm ready to patronize any establishment BUT theirs, should it come to the Dotte. Their feeble attempts to wine and dine the dotlanders will win them no favors with me if they continue to disturb the sleep of my newborn.
addictions as of late: househunters, cinnamon babka, lanisol vs. tea-bagging, metaphorical blue balls caused by excess window shopping (because I REFUSE to pay this much for a quilt ... yet I covet it. I certainly do, yes.)