1) Put baby's shoes on in the car while he is strapped in his seat. This saves you endless amounts of time (and frustration) so that you are not bent over, chasing baby and his wiggly feet around the house. Unless, of course, you have slight memory loss (as I do) and you forget to throw the shoes in your bag on your way to the gym and you have to turn the car around, take baby out, run upstairs, find the shoes, run back downstairs and strap baby back into the car. At this point, all time saved is lost....and then some.
(p.s. any strapping mechanism will be appropriate for this task. The high chair works wonderfully as well.)
2) If you want baby to eat something, eat it yourself first. For some reason, he only trusts your cooking/food preparation skills if he sees you consume it with his own eyes. If you "mmmm" and "awwww" about it with wild, exaggerated, happy, facial expressions, all the better. Today alone I have consumed bites of oatmeal, a fruit cup, banana, yo baby yogurt, mashed green beans, babybell cheese, and saltless, tasteless crackers. And the day is only half done.
By the way, the opposite of this is also true. If you do NOT wish baby to consume something, do not eat it in front him. This especially goes for chex mix, peanut butter and jelly crackers, low fat pringles and Shiner Bock. Baby will throw himself on the ground and scream if you do not share.
3) Hide all books from baby until it is designated reading time. Ok, this may sound harsh, but if books are left lying around, be prepared to read "Pajama Time" and "Teeth are not for Biting" 50 times a day. This plan may not always work, either. If your baby has 10/10 super power xray vision, he will find those books in a matter of minutes even if they are on a shelf that's 9 feet high. He will then proceed to stand below that shelf pointing and whining until you eventually cave and pull one down.
4) Clip baby's nails while he is sleeping. This is just common sense people. Otherwise, you will have a bloody mess.
5) Quaker caramel corn rice cakes. Buy a bag. Seriously. Baby will stop crying immediately if you tempt him with this sweet and savory snack. I never said I was too good for a bribe.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Dad and his mini-me
Seriously, is there an Ildebrando in there anywhere?
I did labor this child for 25 hours didn't I?
I did labor this child for 25 hours didn't I?
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Ready, Set, HUNT!
San Mateo held its annual "Eggstravaganza" yesterday where thousands of families congregate at San Mateo Central Park and hunt for easter eggs. We practiced this at home so we were ready for the big day. We were not prepared for the stiff competition -- or the speed on these little kids! Luckily, volunteers were following the little ones around and throwing eggs AT them so they would at least be able to put one in their basket.
Our first egg hunt was a great time. We will begin training for the 2009 hunt in a few short weeks.
Our first egg hunt was a great time. We will begin training for the 2009 hunt in a few short weeks.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Mama, Dada, and Nana
I'm sure there will come a day when I want him to stop talking, but I think one of the cutest things about toddlers is watching them find their words. He's not quite there yet, but he's on the right track.
His expression when I throw out "papa" is priceless. He's looking at me like "Mooommm, you know I don't know that one."
His expression when I throw out "papa" is priceless. He's looking at me like "Mooommm, you know I don't know that one."
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Live and learn
Unfortunately, Jacob was strapped to his highchair when I locked myself out, so this skill wouldn't have helped so much then, but you better believe we taught him how to open doors immediately after my traumatizing "incident."
Friday, March 14, 2008
911: What's your emergency?
It's highly ironic that last night I was on the internet researching the "mommy brain." You moms know what I'm talking about. You ask yourself, "where the heck is my phone? I can't find my phone!" when you realize you're talking on it. You put the juice in the pantry and the crackers in the refrigerator. I've done it.
I thought it would be amusing to find out what causes this "mommy brain" and then blog about it. In my research, I learned of a pulitzer prize winning reporter named Katherine Ellison. She wrote a book called the "The Mommy Brain: How Motherhood Makes us Smarter". HEH?? Is that possible? Evidenced by my last year of life with Jacob, I have NOT accumulated brain power. I have much to debate with this woman, but was encouraged by the thought that there was possibly something physiological going on that would help me snap out of my crazy "mommy brain" soon.
Well, my friends, the powers that be had other plans. The following story is going to exemplify the very definition of "mommy brain" and I will humiliate myself in describing to you how it turned my morning upside down.
I warn you, this is going to be a long post, so grab a cup of joe and get comfortable.
Jacob and I are having breakfast at about 7:15 am. We need to get out the door soon so that I can get to an appointment at 8:00 am with my new bootcamp instructor. He's in the highchair eating while I am cleaning up. Proactively, I decide to take out the trash so that I'm not carrying him, the diaper bag, AND the trash as we head down to the car. The trash shoot is right down the hall so I open the door, step outside with the trash and the door shuts behind me. Literally, in an instant, I have a flashback...
I'm going to bed the night before (after doing research on "mommy brain") and decide that it's a good idea to lock the bottom lock on the door (in addition to the top lock) since Mark is out of town. I never do this, but we've had some strange things happen in our building lately and I think it's best if I take the extra precaution. I turn the bottom lock and go to bed.
...as this flashback hits me, my heart starts pounding and I immediately shout "OH MY GOD." I turn around as fast as I can, try to open the door and it's locked!!!! With my baby inside!! I have nothing on me. No cell phone, no car keys, nothing but the stupid trash. Jacob starts crying immediately as if he knows exactly what has happened. Panic sets in. My first instinct is to throw myself against the door to try to get inside. Nope. Not happening. My second thought is to run downstairs to the apartment office to see if they have a master key. Unfortunately, it's 7:15 am and they don't open until 10:00 am (TEN!) So, I start running down the hall knocking on anyones door that can help me get to a phone (who am I going to call? I have NO idea.) Finally, a groggy neighbor opens the door in her pajamas and I explain what's going on. "No problem!" she says. "We'll call the apartment security patrol." "Do they have a master key?" I ask. "I have no idea but I bet they'll know who to call."
I want to pause for a moment and tell you about how horrible cell phone service is in this apartment building. The walls must be made of steel because I drop calls every minute in this ridiculous place. Also, I have a message for all of you people out there with fancy blackberries and iPhones and Sidekicks...please don't hand me your phone to use in an emergency. I don't know how to work it unless it has the numbers 0-9 on it. If you give it to me, I am likely to turn it off, email your boyfriend, or send a fax. Please, please, please do not ask me to figure this stupid thing out when I am listening to my baby scream next door and I can't get to him.
Ok, so, about 10 minutes have passed since we've been dealing with my incapable dialing skills, dropped calls, and finally, no answer from the apartment security patrol (great, I feel safe now.) While she's trying to get a hold of someone, I run across the hall to another apartment to see if they might have an emergency number of anyone in the building that has a master key. A very sweet lady with 5 kids hands me her cell phone (another blackberry!) and tells me I should call the police. The girl across the hall peeks her head out and says "I can't get a hold of anyone, you want me to call the fire department?" "YES" I say. "I want them to break down the door."
She proceeds to dial 911 and they assure her that help is on the way. In the meantime, the neighbors and I congregate at my door (as I make a few more feeble attempts at breaking it down) and I try talking to Jacob through the door as he continues to scream. "It's ok baby. Mommy's here. She's trying to get inside!" As we wait (as patiently as possible) I am imagining what this scene is going to look like a few minutes from now. I'm picturing a squad of firemen storming down the hall with axes to break down my door. In addition, I'm certain that the cost of replacing the apartment door is not minimal, and I wince at the thought of them taking their axes to it. As if the things going on in my head weren't horrible enough, my lady neighbor says "I hope he hasn't flipped the high chair over!" Oh sweet Jesus. I hadn't even thought about him doing something like that, but now that she's put the idea in my head, I can't stop thinking about him on the ground with the high chair on top of him. I swear another 10-15 minutes pass. We make another call to confirm that people are coming and they confidently say that the fire department has been called and is en route. One neighbor decides to go downstairs to wait for them in case they need to be let into the building.
All of sudden, a very nice policewoman shows up and asks me what has happened. I explain to her (without trying to sound so pathetic to convince her that I am NOT a bad mother and that she should not contact child protective services, if that was at all on her mind.) Very sweetly she tells me that this kind of thing happens all the time. (But not to me!) A few more minutes pass and here comes my neighbor with 3 firemen to the rescue. I have to tell you that at this point, 30 minutes have passed and Jacob has been screaming the whole time. I am beside myself and want to start crying as well, but know that I can't until I get him in my arms. The firemen start asking me a series of questions..."is there a window open?", "can we get in through the patio?" to all of which I answer "no" (I've already thought of these options!) So, they pull out some simple looking tools, stick them in the door, and VOILA, it opens!!!
I run in, thank God that Jacob is still safely in his chair and I swoop up my baby.
I have to tell you friends that all's well that ends well. I hesitated writing about this, but I want all my mom friends to know that you are not alone with your "mommy brain." It exists and I am proof. In my lifetime, I do not remember one moment where I have locked myself out of a car, house, apartment, whatever. Until now. I blame it on the mommy brain. It is alive and well.
I thought it would be amusing to find out what causes this "mommy brain" and then blog about it. In my research, I learned of a pulitzer prize winning reporter named Katherine Ellison. She wrote a book called the "The Mommy Brain: How Motherhood Makes us Smarter". HEH?? Is that possible? Evidenced by my last year of life with Jacob, I have NOT accumulated brain power. I have much to debate with this woman, but was encouraged by the thought that there was possibly something physiological going on that would help me snap out of my crazy "mommy brain" soon.
Well, my friends, the powers that be had other plans. The following story is going to exemplify the very definition of "mommy brain" and I will humiliate myself in describing to you how it turned my morning upside down.
I warn you, this is going to be a long post, so grab a cup of joe and get comfortable.
Jacob and I are having breakfast at about 7:15 am. We need to get out the door soon so that I can get to an appointment at 8:00 am with my new bootcamp instructor. He's in the highchair eating while I am cleaning up. Proactively, I decide to take out the trash so that I'm not carrying him, the diaper bag, AND the trash as we head down to the car. The trash shoot is right down the hall so I open the door, step outside with the trash and the door shuts behind me. Literally, in an instant, I have a flashback...
I'm going to bed the night before (after doing research on "mommy brain") and decide that it's a good idea to lock the bottom lock on the door (in addition to the top lock) since Mark is out of town. I never do this, but we've had some strange things happen in our building lately and I think it's best if I take the extra precaution. I turn the bottom lock and go to bed.
...as this flashback hits me, my heart starts pounding and I immediately shout "OH MY GOD." I turn around as fast as I can, try to open the door and it's locked!!!! With my baby inside!! I have nothing on me. No cell phone, no car keys, nothing but the stupid trash. Jacob starts crying immediately as if he knows exactly what has happened. Panic sets in. My first instinct is to throw myself against the door to try to get inside. Nope. Not happening. My second thought is to run downstairs to the apartment office to see if they have a master key. Unfortunately, it's 7:15 am and they don't open until 10:00 am (TEN!) So, I start running down the hall knocking on anyones door that can help me get to a phone (who am I going to call? I have NO idea.) Finally, a groggy neighbor opens the door in her pajamas and I explain what's going on. "No problem!" she says. "We'll call the apartment security patrol." "Do they have a master key?" I ask. "I have no idea but I bet they'll know who to call."
I want to pause for a moment and tell you about how horrible cell phone service is in this apartment building. The walls must be made of steel because I drop calls every minute in this ridiculous place. Also, I have a message for all of you people out there with fancy blackberries and iPhones and Sidekicks...please don't hand me your phone to use in an emergency. I don't know how to work it unless it has the numbers 0-9 on it. If you give it to me, I am likely to turn it off, email your boyfriend, or send a fax. Please, please, please do not ask me to figure this stupid thing out when I am listening to my baby scream next door and I can't get to him.
Ok, so, about 10 minutes have passed since we've been dealing with my incapable dialing skills, dropped calls, and finally, no answer from the apartment security patrol (great, I feel safe now.) While she's trying to get a hold of someone, I run across the hall to another apartment to see if they might have an emergency number of anyone in the building that has a master key. A very sweet lady with 5 kids hands me her cell phone (another blackberry!) and tells me I should call the police. The girl across the hall peeks her head out and says "I can't get a hold of anyone, you want me to call the fire department?" "YES" I say. "I want them to break down the door."
She proceeds to dial 911 and they assure her that help is on the way. In the meantime, the neighbors and I congregate at my door (as I make a few more feeble attempts at breaking it down) and I try talking to Jacob through the door as he continues to scream. "It's ok baby. Mommy's here. She's trying to get inside!" As we wait (as patiently as possible) I am imagining what this scene is going to look like a few minutes from now. I'm picturing a squad of firemen storming down the hall with axes to break down my door. In addition, I'm certain that the cost of replacing the apartment door is not minimal, and I wince at the thought of them taking their axes to it. As if the things going on in my head weren't horrible enough, my lady neighbor says "I hope he hasn't flipped the high chair over!" Oh sweet Jesus. I hadn't even thought about him doing something like that, but now that she's put the idea in my head, I can't stop thinking about him on the ground with the high chair on top of him. I swear another 10-15 minutes pass. We make another call to confirm that people are coming and they confidently say that the fire department has been called and is en route. One neighbor decides to go downstairs to wait for them in case they need to be let into the building.
All of sudden, a very nice policewoman shows up and asks me what has happened. I explain to her (without trying to sound so pathetic to convince her that I am NOT a bad mother and that she should not contact child protective services, if that was at all on her mind.) Very sweetly she tells me that this kind of thing happens all the time. (But not to me!) A few more minutes pass and here comes my neighbor with 3 firemen to the rescue. I have to tell you that at this point, 30 minutes have passed and Jacob has been screaming the whole time. I am beside myself and want to start crying as well, but know that I can't until I get him in my arms. The firemen start asking me a series of questions..."is there a window open?", "can we get in through the patio?" to all of which I answer "no" (I've already thought of these options!) So, they pull out some simple looking tools, stick them in the door, and VOILA, it opens!!!
I run in, thank God that Jacob is still safely in his chair and I swoop up my baby.
I have to tell you friends that all's well that ends well. I hesitated writing about this, but I want all my mom friends to know that you are not alone with your "mommy brain." It exists and I am proof. In my lifetime, I do not remember one moment where I have locked myself out of a car, house, apartment, whatever. Until now. I blame it on the mommy brain. It is alive and well.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Our new house! (really)
Well, we finally did it. We finally got a house. And I don't have an ounce of buyer's remorse (that's the true test.) Hallelujah!
I wonder whether I will look back on these last 8 weeks of house hunting fondly -- every saturday and sunday shuttling a baby to and from 5-10 houses each day, running out to meet our realtor at a moment's notice when a new "gem" of a house came on the market (only to discover a "gem" it was not), fretting over each offer (yes, there were FOUR), sleeping fitfully at night wondering if we'll ever find something we love. I could dramatize it more but I'll spare you all the agony. ha.
I love our new little house! It's completely updated with gorgeous bathrooms and a chef's kitchen and we have a great yard for Jacob to explore. We can't wait to move in. Anyone up for making the trek to San Fran to help us unpack?
I wonder whether I will look back on these last 8 weeks of house hunting fondly -- every saturday and sunday shuttling a baby to and from 5-10 houses each day, running out to meet our realtor at a moment's notice when a new "gem" of a house came on the market (only to discover a "gem" it was not), fretting over each offer (yes, there were FOUR), sleeping fitfully at night wondering if we'll ever find something we love. I could dramatize it more but I'll spare you all the agony. ha.
I love our new little house! It's completely updated with gorgeous bathrooms and a chef's kitchen and we have a great yard for Jacob to explore. We can't wait to move in. Anyone up for making the trek to San Fran to help us unpack?
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Christmas in March?
Jacob got a huge box yesterday of gifts from Nanny and Papa for Easter. It felt like Christmas! We had a blast opening it up and playing with everything inside.
We especially liked this book that teaches us about our body parts. We've already read it 10 times.
This is what happens when mommy won't let her rough and tumble toddler play with her very expensive Nikon camera.
Not sure what he's doing here but it's super cute. Perhaps practicing some new dance moves?
Thanks Nanny and Papa!
We especially liked this book that teaches us about our body parts. We've already read it 10 times.
This is what happens when mommy won't let her rough and tumble toddler play with her very expensive Nikon camera.
Not sure what he's doing here but it's super cute. Perhaps practicing some new dance moves?
Thanks Nanny and Papa!
Our new house!
Have I ever told you how much I love the color orange?
Two months and four offers later, we've found our dream home.
Two months and four offers later, we've found our dream home.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
It never gets old
I just had to post another clip of Jacob groovin' to the music. This is his favorite game now and we play it at least 100 times a day. The only downside is that I have to hide my cell phone from him or else I'd be playing cell phone ringtones all day long.
If you call and I don't answer my phone, that's likely the reason.
If you call and I don't answer my phone, that's likely the reason.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Tiny dancer
Jacob has discovered the variety of ringtones on my cell phone and dancing at the same time.
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