Odd Hues

An incident at the park

2008-10-10T17:24:00.000-07:00

Huey and I were at the playground, playing on the slides, when a blond man, the father of a beautiful two-year-old girl, walked up to the low railing surrounding the park and said to a man sitting on the bench just outside the park, “Are you staring at my daughter?”

The man, a nondescript white man in his 40s, looked at him quizzically.

“You’re staring at my daughter. I saw you,” said the blond man.

“Whatever, man,” said the guy on the bench. “I’m just sitting here. It’s a public park.”

“But you’re staring at my daughter, aren’t you? Aren’t you staring at my daughter?”

By this point, their confrontation was starting to draw stares from the other parents.

“Are you a fucking idiot?” said the man on the bench, getting agitated. “It’s a public park. I’m just sitting here watching. It’s a public park. I’m not doing anything. It’s a public park.”

“You can keep repeating that it’s a public park,” said the blond man, calmly, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re staring. And it’s making me very uncomfortable. Why are you here? You don’t have any kids with you, so why are you here?”

“It’s a public park… My wife… our kids… It’s a public park, what the fuck?”

“Men without kids don’t belong here. Please leave. Now.”

“Whatever. Fuck you.” And so the man on the bench left.

The other parents murmured their approval, staring after the guy, as if trying to memorize his features.

I hadn’t noticed the guy staring, but we’d only just gotten there. It’s sad that the sight of a man sitting on a bench outside of a kid’s park immediately raises red flags. He could have just been enjoying the sunshine and the sound of the kids’ laughter.

But maybe not. And that’s why I, too, was a little relieved when he left.

Artsy fartsy, part deux

2008-08-21T13:08:00.001-07:00

Don't think she realizes she's supposed to bite it, not lick it.

2008-08-21T13:02:00.001-07:00

Aunt D turns 25

2008-08-20T21:28:00.001-07:00

The beginning of the end for the swaddle

2008-08-20T19:37:00.001-07:00

Artsy Fartsy

2008-08-20T19:31:00.001-07:00

Lunch

2008-08-20T19:26:00.001-07:00

The G family comes to visit

2008-08-20T12:42:00.000-07:00

First time on a swing and slightly suspicious

2008-08-20T12:28:00.001-07:00

Getting to know E

2008-08-20T11:44:00.000-07:00

First time at a park

2008-08-20T11:41:00.001-07:00

Lessons learned from living at my brother's house for two months

2008-07-22T12:01:00.000-07:00

A kitchen large enough to allow two people to comfortably cook together can restore the joy in the process.
Having enough counter space to spread out all the fun kitchen tools means having fresh bread and frozen yogurt on a regular basis.
Having enough room to host loved ones for an extended period of time is a necessary luxury.
Puttering in the garden can be a great way to while away a Sunday afternoon.
Television is not the center of our lives.
A dinner for two on the patio can be a nightly occurrence.
A dishwasher can save a marriage.

I've been waiting to hear this since she was born.

2008-07-20T17:01:00.000-07:00

A spectacular insult

2008-07-16T15:15:00.000-07:00

When my in-laws were visiting, we spent a couple of Sundays driving around different neighborhoods to check out some real estate. Having four of us in the car meant my mother-in-law and I could jump out to check out a home—because let’s face it, we adore looking at houses, even if there’s not a chance in hell we could ever afford them—while HH and my father-in-law stayed behind in the car with the baby.

After touring one particularly exquisite home that had the kind of view you see in magazines—and of course the price tag to match—we made our way back to the front door to put our shoes back on. On the way the realtor engaged us in some chitchat, no doubt hoping we’d ask her to start sending us listings, when my MIL started bragging about her granddaughter’s great beauty. (How could she not? She is the most beautiful baby on the planet after all.)

The realtor smiled and said, quite matter-of-factly, “She must look like your son then!”

I blinked. Had she really just said that? Right in front of my face? I knew I should be insulted, but this affront was just so spectacular, so ballsy, that it was all I could do not to laugh out loud.

She of course backpedaled quickly, explaining she meant all mothers consider their own children to be extravagantly beautiful, etc. and maybe it really wasn’t meant as an insult. But still, it was such a movie moment. I’ve never been insulted quite so splendidly before.

Independence Day

2008-07-14T10:18:00.000-07:00

Aunt T's birthday (and a night out without baby!)

2008-07-12T14:50:00.000-07:00

Portraits against a brick wall

2008-07-10T11:15:00.001-07:00

Makes me want to buy every baby headband on the planet

2008-07-10T10:20:00.000-07:00

Grandma love

2008-07-10T10:01:00.001-07:00

D's graduation party

2008-07-10T09:19:00.000-07:00

Lazy morning in Gardena with the in-laws

2008-07-10T08:31:00.000-07:00

Meeting Uncle S

2008-07-09T11:29:00.000-07:00

Weathering the shit storm

2008-07-08T12:11:00.001-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I dropped my mother-in-law off at the airport. As I was heading home I glanced at Huey in the rear view mirror and saw what looked like a blood smear on her knee. Great, I thought, I really need to do a better job at keeping her nails cut. She spent the 40-minute drive home doing her usual routine of whining, sucking her fingers, napping, screaming, sucking her fingers some more and then serenading me with her new favorite past time: shrieking like a pterodactyl, a sound that could shatter teeth.

It was with relief that I pulled into our garage. Huey and I both couldn't wait to get her out of her car seat. The car was fully packed as I'd just moved us out of my brother’s house. The back seat was packed with baskets of clean clothes and in the trunk were more clothes, the stroller, an activity gym, etc. Huey was boxed in on all sides.

As I bent to pull her out of the back seat I realized that that smear on her knee was not blood—it was shit. Orange shit. She hadn't crapped in three days (the pediatrician said babies her age can go two weeks without a bowel movement) so it had all come out at once. She had pooped such a large amount and with such force that it had blasted out of the left leg opening of her diaper and pooled into the V of her car seat. I hadn’t heard it happen, nor smelled the result, so she had spent the 40-minute drive from the airport smearing it all over her body.

And eating it.

EATING HER OWN CRAP.

I was horrified. I kept repeating, Oh my god! Oh my god! You're eating your own shit! Huey, her mouth crammed with all ten fingers, looked at me with huge, blinkety-blinking eyes, as if to say, What? What did I do?

I wrapped her in one of the clean kitchen towels, then maneuvered her over the baskets of clean clothes and ran up the stairs with her plastered to my front. Of course, this was one of the rare times I was wearing a white shirt. I dropped her in the tub, gave us both a good scrubbing, finally had a laugh about it all and chalked it up to reaching the ubiquitous parental milestone: getting shit on.

Since then she's shit on my only dry clean-only skirt, on our blanket, and on HH’s jeans.

Ah, parenthood. So glamorous.

When I told HH about her crapping herself in the car and eating it, his first question was, Did you photograph it?

Men.

Daddy and his mini me

2008-06-24T09:31:00.001-07:00

Modeling my favorite dress

2008-06-24T09:30:00.000-07:00

No, mama! I'll be good, I promise. Don't send be back for a refund!

2008-06-24T09:21:00.000-07:00

Trust me, her inner child's loving it

2008-06-24T08:40:00.000-07:00

"Either go to bed or I'll eat your toes with some fava beans and a nice chianti."

2008-06-24T08:25:00.000-07:00

And for her next trick she'll be swallowing swords!

2008-06-24T08:21:00.001-07:00

Lunch with family and friends

2008-06-24T08:01:00.001-07:00

A vision in blue and yellow

2008-06-23T17:51:00.000-07:00

Starting to enjoy tummy time

2008-06-23T17:01:00.001-07:00

"Disneyland" at Uncle R's

2008-06-23T16:56:00.001-07:00

We are family

2008-05-29T15:30:00.000-07:00

Hangin' with the in-laws

2008-05-29T13:25:00.000-07:00

G family reunion in WI

2008-05-28T18:04:00.000-07:00

Just the eight of us

2008-05-28T17:27:00.001-07:00

Her eye color is still a mystery

2008-05-28T16:20:00.001-07:00

Tummy time and a roll: forced exercise for babies

2008-05-28T16:15:00.000-07:00

Can you tell she's still up three times a night to nurse?

2008-05-28T16:12:00.000-07:00

The belles of the ball (and L turms 30)

2008-05-28T16:11:00.001-07:00

Meeting Aunt K

2008-05-28T16:10:00.001-07:00

The beginning of a beautiful friendship

2008-05-28T16:06:00.000-07:00

Snug as a bug in a rug or All hail the Ergo carrier

2008-05-28T16:03:00.000-07:00

Meeting the grandparents

2008-05-28T15:57:00.000-07:00

My beautiful niece

2008-05-01T17:44:00.002-07:00

The power of the sling

2008-05-01T17:44:00.001-07:00

No Daddy! I don't wanna smile for the camewa!

2008-05-01T17:42:00.001-07:00

A Saturday afternoon with friends

2008-05-01T17:40:00.000-07:00

Gettin' some lovin' from Auntie D

2008-05-01T17:39:00.000-07:00

Wishing I could fit her whole head in my mouth

2008-05-01T17:38:00.001-07:00

Behind bars

2008-04-30T15:58:00.001-07:00

Life between naps

2008-04-30T15:45:00.000-07:00

Santa's missing an elf

2008-04-08T15:42:00.000-07:00

Home for good

2008-04-08T15:30:00.001-07:00

Living in Gardena, part 2

2008-04-08T14:27:00.001-07:00

Finding our center in Gardena

2008-04-03T14:24:00.000-07:00

Learning what works and what doesn't

2008-04-03T14:17:00.001-07:00

Her coming-out story

2008-03-31T10:28:00.000-07:00

March 3rd, 10PM: We brought on contractions using nipple stimulation while watching American Gangster.
March 4th, 4AM: My water broke. (Or so I thought.)
11:30AM: Contractions stalled.
1:30PM: Arrived at the hospital to find I was only 1 cm dilated and that I was indeed leaking amniotic fluid.
3:30PM: Headed home after deciding to give my body another chance to bring labor on naturally.
5PM: Swallowed 2 oz of castor oil mixed 4 oz orange juice. It wasn't bad. Tasted like greasy orange juice.
6PM: Contractions started.
10PM: Admitted to hospital and given Pitocin to strengthen contractions.
March 5th, 2:30AM: Made it to 5cm dilated. Decided hypnobirthing was for the birds and asked for an epi. Epidurals ROCK. They should be called YIPPEEEEE-durals.
3AM - 3:30AM: Had 7 contractions while Dr. Vlad administered the epi and chided me to relax. (HAH!) It was the perfect amount of epi. I could feel all the pressure with none of the pain.
7AM: Was 9cm dilated. Got a top-off from Dr. Vlad just as I was about to feel some pain. Sigh, I love Dr. Vlad.
10AM: Made it to 10cm.
10AM - 11:03AM: I pushed. And pushed. No idea why I thought this part was only supposed to take 10 mins. HAH! I've never sweat or grunted so much in my life or spread my legs that wide. Holy moly! But I managed NOT TO TEAR AT ALL. Much of that was due to my John's perineal massages and the midwife's skills. This is also when we found out my sac had just leaked, not broken. It broke just before I started pushing and splashed everywhere.
11:04AM: Chiara (pronounced key-ARE-a) arrived weighing in 8 lbs 3 oz and measuring 20 inches. She lifted her head just hours after birth.