Don't forget the baby!

We will be going 'internet-dark' for the next 48 hours, so see all of you on Sunday!

So this is how the rest of my day went yesterday:

I finished my blog entry. And then headed up to the bathroom to continue digging through the cabinets.  After trying on every single self-tanner I found (it was a pseudo-science experiment...which one works better? Each appendage of mine is now a different shade of orange. The winner? Neutrogena Micro-Mist Self-Tanner Spray. And c'mon, Scottsdale is eight days away and my skin is literally the color of yogurt. Very scary. I need some serious intervention), I figured I should finally do something productive. I gathered up the Bear and headed to the post office. I had several packages to mail, as well as I needed to pick up the keys to our new mailbox.

And I walked into to what I though was some kind of post office convention. There was no ice cream, cake or streamers, but there were enough people for a party. About 35 people stood in line in front of me. Silently.  Mind you, I had just been to the exact same post office on Saturday to find the place completely deserted (only to run into massive crowds later at Party City, since it appeared that every single person in Vegas was attending a child's birthday party that afternoon). After standing in one line for about ten minutes, the woman behind me in line declares loudly (and without provocation), "Looks like everyone is here to pick up their new keys! All new home owners!" and points to the line I am not in.

Oh.

So I jump lines. And wait more.

In the time we were waiting, Scotty decides to dump his entire sippy cup full of apple juice and water down the front of his shirt. He's now soaking wet and I don't have another shirt for him. (I have 12 diapers, an entire package of wipes, three pairs of socks, puffs, six toys, and a bottle, but no onesie). I start texting Brian about the wet shirt and am leaning over the stroller when Scotty lets out the loudest toot known to man.

And every head in the place, including the people working at the counters, swivels in my direction.

I smile politely, let out a nervous laugh, and quietly say to Scotty, "You need to say, 'excuse me!' silly!" I watch as everyone furrows their brows and continue staring at me when I realize, OMG. They think I did it. And now they think I'm blaming it on the baby.

This awkward silence drags on for what seems like hours, though it was only probably a few seconds. Scotty's toot did break the ice, though, and several people began smiling and talking to him (probably b/c they felt like he has a crazy mother who blames gastrointestinal movement on her children). In fact, the woman next to me decides to hand Scotty the piece of paper she was holding so he could play with it.

To which I promptly take it out of his hands, and hand it back to the woman. Smiling politely.

And she hands it back to Scotty.

I take it away from him (it was headed straight for his mouth) and give it back to her.

And she hands it right back to him.

Are you starting to see a pattern here? This weird game of triangular catch went on for no less than 20 minutes. I tried to say something to the woman (like, "Hey, babies eat paper, and paper isn't good for them. Stop handing my kid paper.") but I don't think she spoke English. So we just continued this little game until blissfully, my number was called.

And there was this weird, creepy guy that kept smiling at me - me, not the baby - while we were in line.

Needless to say, I couldn't wait to get out there, orange appendages, wet, tooting child, and all.

We made several other stops, including going to another postal store (the line I was in was 'pick-up only.' Thank you, woman behind me in line) to mail the rest of my stuff. The guy behind this counter was so unbelievably stoned that I was fearful he would type in the wrong info in the computer. (not surprisingly, this store is within blocks of our current home.) It took him 20 minutes to tape up a package and by the end, I was so on edge, I almost yelled to him, "Just give me the damn tape! I will do it faster!" But I didn't. And got out of there successfully.

(Maybe now is also a good time to point out that aside from my just general crankiness about the move, Scotty is also in full-blown teething mode and only slept for a total of NINETY minutes all day. And I haven't eaten a carb in 6 days since I am going to be in a bathing suit in 8, making me extremely on edge. Argh.)

So by the time we got home, I stripped him out of his wet onesie and attempted to feed him his baby chicken salad while seated on the floor. I was just too exhausted to use the high chair. And in typical nine-month baby form, he ate it but also enjoyed smearing it all over his body and the rug. Oh, joy.

Brian got home to find me scrubbing chicken salad off of the baby while in the bath, and with my weary arms and aching back, I was able to get him ready for bed. I handed him over to Brian and turned to walk out of the room. As I left, I made the baby sign language gesture for 'all done' and told him, "I'm...all done. No more for me."

Brian laughed. And then he said, "So what do you want to do about dinner?"

I looked at him and replied, making the gesture again, "No, I don't think you get it. I'm - " hands waving " - all done. I don't care what you eat for dinner. I'm not eating anything. I am - " hands again " - all done."

He got the hint.

And by the time the Bear was down, Brian came down the stairs, arms full of clothes ready to take to the hew house. He even put up the curtains in Scotty's room. The poor guy didn't get home until after 9pm, but at least we are making progress.

T-minus 2 days until the big move. And then we will really be...all done.

I dont' want to pack anymore.

Hmph.

::crossing arms and pouting::

So mature, right? I am just tired of it. The movers are scheduled, I convinced Brian to take a day off of work (he still has a conference call in the morning, but I consider this a success of epic proportions), and the house is slowly being packed away. So, there has been great progress. But I feel (probably like you do) that this has been draggggginnnggg on for months. And I just need a break.

So I'm taking one.

Overall, I wouldn't consider myself a huge procrastinator. I've certainly gotten better since my college days, where you would likely find me burning the midnight hour in order to cram for a test or finish a paper. But when you live with 45 other girls, it's sooo easy to procrastinate. I think my friend Liz and I even turned it into an art form. We would just wander from room to room, seeing who was busy or who else we could lure into our web of laziness. We played with candles a lot. (lots of melted wax on the carpet...) We laid around a lot. We spied on the fraternity that lived behind us.  I pulled weeds in our garden while Liz sat there and kept me company.  We watched many movies. And then, in probably the most grand of all procrastination activities, we convinced the rest of the sorority to play Sardines in the Science Center at 10pm. (I think Krista might have been in on this one, too). Sardines, for those of you who don't know, is the opposite of 'Hide and Seek;" one person hides, and the rest of the group has to find them. Except when you find them, you join them in their hiding spot. The last person to find everyone loses, and has to be the next 'Sardine'. (and if you hide in a small spot - or have a game involving 30+ college women - things can get a bit cramped.)

Ahh, good times.

I don't have anyone to play Sardines with out here. I can't even play with candle wax since I don't want to get it on my floor. So, I'm left to blogging, planning Tiffany's bachelorette party (next weekend!), and coming up creative ideas for baby food. Oh yeah, I should probably pack a box or two.

Hmph. Stupid boxes.

Anyways, I'm kind of proud of my latest baby food creation. We have officially started meats, and last week, I gave Scotty some cooked chicken thighs. The little tyke ate them, but blech. Maybe this is what accounted for his food strike? I could barely spoon the pureed mixture into his mouth since it looked like and smelled like Emma's food. Gross.

So on Monday, I made the executive decision that my child was not going to consume foods that resemble cat food. So I purchase two lovely organic chicken breast (bone-in, skin still on) and set about roasting them in a little olive oil, kosher salt, and cracked black pepper. When they were done, I discarded the bones and skin and chopped the chicken into itty-bitty pieces. And tossed it with a little Greek yogurt and some organic tarragon and viola! Baby chicken salad. (I normally also add green grapes and celery, but thought they might be choking hazards.) So, I'm happy that Scotty will actually be eating something that looks appetizing AND is also chock full of protein.

Okay, I feel like I worked my procrastination out. I'm ready to go tackle another box. Wish me luck. And go play a game of Sardines if you get a chance -- it's really fun!

Okay, I feel like the biggest dork since I am seriously still a little weepy as I type this.

But for those of you who have loved a series or set of characters, it's hard to say good-bye. And with LOST, tonight was that time.

I also want to preface this blog entry with the news that we FINALLY HAVE A TOOTH. Yes, a real, honest-to-goodness tooth that does not appear to be receding anytime soon.

The tooth came as a shock to me when I stuck my hand in Scotty's mouth (as a mother, I feel as though it is my right to do this.) Brian and I were busy unpacking boxes at the new house when Scotty started howling. I walked over, popped a puff in his mouth and ouch! Something poked back at me.  It's sharp! The little white speck is on the bottom right. In the immortal words of Jenna, mom to Rowan, "I'm not sure I would have put it there." My thoughts exactly. It looked a little...crooked. 

And how did I react when I felt the little too-fer? Burst into tears. (I know, I know). And then promptly exclaimed to Brian, "He's going to get married next!" Brian burst into laughter while I hugged the Bear protectively (and whispered, "No woman will ever be good enough for you. Except maybe baby Sam.") and I tried to reassure myself that there are many, many steps between teething and marriage. But still...they grow up so fast.

::sniff::

And then that event was capped off by the ending of one of my favorite series of all time, LOST. I can only liken this (extremely dorky) feeling to how I felt when the last Harry Potter book came out; I was dying to know how it ended, but so hesitant to say good-bye to characters I had come to know and love.

And I really thought the finale did not disappoint. About halfway through, I told Brian, "I really want to live in sideways world! I love it there!" Which is a good thing, considering ::SPOILER ALERT:: it's Jack idea of heaven. That's how I took it at least - the whole series was from Jack's point of view (eye opening, Vincent, bamboo, etc) and it came full circle at the end. And I liked what Christian Shepard said too - some of the people in the church/religious building (thank you Carlton and Damon for making that place as about PC as it gets with every single religion represented) died before, and some will not die for a long time. This is Jack's version of heaven (similar to the idea in 'The Lovely Bones' - heaven is a very personal place). Who knew he loved Kate so much? And Sawyer and Juliet??? Ooooh! They were my favorite. (I loved them back when they still lived in Dharmaville circe 1977.)

And it was nice the finale was a little campy, too. Some of the one-liners were classic (though none of coming to mind right this second). The whole show was a little campy, and it really bordered on trying to not take itself too seriously while introducing characters like the smoke monster, Richard Alpert, and Benjamin Linus. And how great was it that Ben got a little redemption in the end? He wasn't in Jack's heaven; probably because Jack didn't know that he was seeking redemption via Hurley. Oh, and Sayid and Shannon! It was like seeing old friends again. And Jin and Sun giggling at the sight of Sawyer the cop...ahh, good stuff.

Okay, I am just solidifying my geekiness. Anyways, I'll try to write more tomorrow, but it will also be likely about LOST. Just know this -- I feel like I have a personal connection with the show. It debuted 8 days after Brian and I got engaged. Michael shot Ana Lucia and Libby the week before our wedding (causing me to drop a pot in the kitchen from sheer surprise). We visited the set on our honeymoon (or tried to). The only thing I could focus on during Season 5 was, "How the hell did Claire feed Aaron after he was born?" (this was, obviously, after Scotty was born. I could only fixate on her lack of a breast pump, making me worry that Aaron might have had hyperbilirubin.) And now, watching the finale with boxes literally on both sides of our TV...well, it feels right. We're saying good-bye to this house and the show, and ready to say hello to something new. So yeah', that's one of many reasons I really have loved this show. It has been a nice pair of bookends to many major moments in my life.

Off to bed. Actually, off to scrub the dishes from dinner. We had taco night tonight as an ode to our LOST viewing. Taco night used to be on Wednesdays (the original LOST night) but decided to change things up and have it on Sunday instead. And to think I wasn't a risk taker! :-)

This afternoon's feeding hit an all-time low. I think the pictures speak for themselves.

(he did eat all of his kale and cottage cheese. Thankfully)

I am starting to realize that when dealing with babies, you never talk about the good stuff. Because when you do, you jinx yourself. Naps, sleep, food...only complain about it when it's not happening; never talk excitedly. Ever.

Pride comes before the fall here, people.

I'll admit, I was pretty proud of our little Bear's food skills. The kid likes to eat. Or least, he did. But now, for whatever reason, in the past week or so, he has put his little tiny foot down and declared that he will not eat solids. Nope, not gonna do it. And now feeding him has turned into an all-out struggle.

It started on Monday when the baby-sitter mentioned it took her almost one and a half hours to feed him lunch. I was a little taken aback. Ninety-minutes for three courses? "Why didn't you just throw in the towel?" I asked her. No reply. And for whatever reason, that behavior has continued to present day. Frustrating, to say the least.

Scotty's new thing is to hold the food in his mouth for as long as possible. He will swallow some of it, but likes to spit more of it out. It's gross. And messy. Just the other day, I found some kale behind his ear. And yesterday, I was feeling crafty so I made hand/footprints of him out of this soft white molding clay. Well, the foot print turned out great, but Scotty's little hand was still covered in mashed up blueberries and consequently, stained the clay. I still framed it; I figure we'll look back at this and laugh.

One day.

I just pray that Scotty has Brian's easy-going, mild nature, and not my own terrier-like determination (read: stubbornness.) And I hope this strange food strike passes quickly as well.

Some shots of the Bear in action:

I am a day late on posting Scotty's nine month pictures, but I have good reason. 1.) Brian is in trial, which means I see him for all of 20 minutes per day (19.5 minutes of which are spent discussing his trial), 2.) I have the Bear to myself all day long - and these are VERY long days when you have no one to relieve you and 3.) two words: scrubbing elbow. More on that later.

Anyways, there was no doctor's appointment this time around since the  little tyke saw Dr. Awesome a few weeks ago during his bottle strike. (which, by the way, has been replaced by a food strike now. Scotty likes to hold the food in his mouth and then spit it out. Fun times.) But I do want to highlight some of his more positive accomplishments to date:

(or, as my dad said today, "The kid is cute. We get it. That's all you talk about." Yes, Dad, Scotty is adorable. And amazing, and incredibly intelligent and quite possibly the world's greatest baby. He is likely to be President of the United States one day. No hyperbole here. Just lots of beaming-mom-pride, okay?)

-- Scotty enjoys turning pages with relish. He is not really so interested in the written word as he is the turning of the page. I'm okay with this.

-- The Bear enjoys looking at himself in the mirror. Like mother, like son. Sigh. Vanity is a terrible, terrible sin, unless you are nine months old and incredibly cute.

-- Scotty says, "Da-da!" and "La-la!" with reckless abandon. I asked Brian if he was excited that Scotty says 'da-da.' In typical Brian-logic, he replied, "No. He calls everything 'da-da.' Me, you, that piece of cheese. Really, it's no big deal." Like father, like son.

-- Scotty is starting to demonstrate a very cautious nature. He's not shy, but he is rather...concerned. He likes to check out a situation before diving into it. (VERY much 'like father, like son' here. I'm much more of the 'It's okay, we'll figure it out later!' variety.) Check out some photos from Mother's Day; Scotty was not quite so excited to see his homeboy Drew as Drew was to see him. Enter: cautiousness.

-- Scotty is also rather adept with his pincer grasp. I'm so glad that my lazy parenting skills have finally come to fruition, since my failure to remove the tags from stuffed animals/blankets/etc is Scotty's gain. He loves stroking tags, holding tags, pinching tags, and eventually, nomming on tags.

-- Tummy time is finally no longer our enemy. I'm not going to call it our friend, but he has finally stopped howling during it. He likes to rock back and forth on his knees, schootch backwards, and looks moments away from actually crawling. But...no movement yet.

-- And finally, no movement and no teeth yet, either. (or 'teefers,' if you live in our house.) There are several teefers just under the gums - bottom front two and top front two - but nothing has cracked the surface. And so, we wait. Nine months and no teef.

All in all, I'm a big fan of nine months (so far.) This whole 6-12 month age group is just fabulous. I feel like it's the reward for getting through the 0-6 month age. (argh, the sleep deprivation.) Oh -- I forgot to mention -- Scotty is officially wearing 2T. Yes, that would be TWO TODDLER. Because he is the size of two toddlers. No seriously, none of his clothes are fitting him. I got tired of buying 18 month clothing only to find out it's too small, so I finally just bit the bullet and bought 2T. He's in size 5 diapers and growing. Have I mentioned my concerns about my grocery bill?

I will leave you with a few Bear shots, taken today. The first one I sent to Brian just cheer him up (aren't I a nice wife?). And the second is from today at the new house. He's wearing his favorite 'Fat & Happy' shirt again. The third one is when I realized we didn't have a burp cloth, so a dish towel was going to have to suffice. And it also makes a rather handy turban/head covering.

(oh, and in terms of scrubbing elbow -- I purchases a SCRUB brush, filled an entire bucket of vinegar and water and went to town on the tile yesterday. The result? REALLY CLEAN TILE. I think all it will take is one more scrubbing and then the grit is gone. I'm pretty proud of myself. Tile, I own you. Literally and figuratively.)

It looks like a lot of the major construction has been completed...all of the appliances are in, and without further adieu, here are some before and after pics of our new house. It's a house now, but hopefully we'll make it a 'home' in just a few short weeks. Enjoy!

The foyer:

As you can see, we decided to widen the in-lay and instead of more tile, we used marble. The same marble that is on the fireplace...

The fireplace was probably the most dramatic change in the house. All of the tile was removed and replaced with teeny-tiny marble on the face, and then larger marble pieces on the front edge. The new flooring and paint also help! Oh, and I would have never come up with how to paint/accent the fireplace without the help of our designer, but more on that later.

Moving on to the kitchen...here is a shot from the family room, looking into the kitchen.

Yes, the dreaded mini-pendants are still hanging (the new ones haven't come in yet), but just try to imagine the room without them. Our lovely fridge, complete with a GIANT freezer (think of all the baby food I can make!!) is awesome (yes, we got the ice dispenser/crusher) and our dishwasher is so quiet, both the general contractor and I had to strain to hear if it was working. At which point, he exclaimed, "I'm gonna get me one of these! Holy cow!" Sweeeet. I hate loud dishwashers.

You can also see the lip of the new carpet that is now in the family room - a must for a little bear who is just learning to crawl. I think we might put in a wet bar (eventually) in the nook on the left and perhaps a desk in the nook on the right. 

This shot of the kitchen would look a lot better with the new mini-pendants (Curse you, you pendants!), but you can see the fridge, new sink, faucet, and tile. I think the tile is just gorgeous and best of all, clean! The grout on the old tile was just so disgusting. I'm happy that we upgraded it to add the sealer as it was mixed, so hopefully it will never turn black. Fingers crossed.

New sink:

The laundry room that caused me to almost have a nervous breakdown at Home Depot:

I'm damn proud of this room. It may not look like much, but every single thing in this room needed to be built/bought/added. It was quite the project.

And I'm also happy to report that for the first time in my adult life, I will be able to do the laundry indoors. This marks a huge milestone for me.

A shot from the kitchen into the family room:

I bought the chair (which will eventually be put in my loft) from the Whippersnapper's dad.  It reminded me of the chair I used to have in my office when I was in practice. I plan to read many, many books in that chair.

And you can get an idea of the carpet/family room shape. The carpet turned out great, and the flooring people were nice enough to throw in the baby for free.

A few more pictures from around the house:

As you can see, there is still a ton to do but we are slowly making progress. Not to mention, we still have to, uh, move. Yikes.

And I want to mention, I did not do all of this by myself. I feel like this is the Academy Awards of home building, and in proper Oscar style, I would like to thank the following people:

-- Bobby, Lori, & Jose from B&H Interiors for their fabulous work ethic, skill, and style. Lori was amazing and even took the time to help me select paint colors for the rest of the house.

-- Gretchen & Ken from Faucet Galore who taught me more than I ever wanted to know about kitchen sinks, utility room sinks, faucets, and toilets. I don't know if you have ever purchased a toilet before, but it's actually rather uncomfortable. Gretchen made it fun, though, and we giggled through out the process. (and I will admit that I splurged on the elongated bowl with comfort height. Brian was SO excited when I told him this.)

-- Jon, our GC and Jose, Greg and Alex, the painters

-- Heather, Mort, and Jeanine from Lamps Plus, and that very nice woman who accidentally walked out of the store with ALL of my purchases by mistake and then returned them the same day. That's integrity.

-- Our friend Dave who has driven across the valley and back at my request. Owning a pick-up truck is kind of a bummer when you have friends like us.

-- Annette, the baby-sitter

-- My parents, for generously purchasing our new washer and dryer. What a house-warming gift!

And of course, the Whippersnapper, who made this all possible.

Thanks for taking this little tour with me!

....is tomorrow!

(Sorry -- the camera was in the diaper bag and Brian was on Bear Duty all day today.)

I am DELIGHTED with how everything looks (though we are about 93% completed) and can't wait to show you! Stay tuned. :-)

in the meantime, might I offer you a cute photo of the Bear at Whole Foods? He loves the legume aisle. And yes, his shirt says, "Fat & Happy." Which he is, admirably.

And in the eleventh hour...I'm changing everything.

Actually, not really. But I did make the momentous decision today after installing the light plate switches that I do not like the kitchen lighting. This has been a bit of a huckleberry for me -- the three mini pendants that hang above the kitchen island.

See -- these:

(and yes, that is the Whippersnapper, in action, checking her phone. It's what she does best. This photo is from April, pre-construction).

I harbor a serious dislike for the pendants featured above. They are 1.) stainless steel (strike one), 2.) have orange glass (strike two) and 3.) are hung by wires instead of rods, making it look all willy-nilly. Three strikes, and...you're out. Enter the new pendants.

I had originally decided to purchase new pendants and successfully found a style I liked AND they were clearance. The only problem? They only had two. Correction: they had two - at two different stores - with the third one being shipped to us from the factory. So, I went to Summerlin, Brian & the Bear went to Henderson, and we are still waiting on pendant #3 to arrive.

And waiting is never a good thing for me, since while I wait, I  have a tendency to think. This is exactly why our wedding turned out to be the extravaganza that is was; it's not because we intended it to be, but because I had 21 months to plan it AND I had a 100-mile commute to work everyday. Without the radio or cellular service. And during that time, I thought. And thought and thought and thought. That's why the white moire of the inner envelope lining matched the aisle runner, which in turn, matched the draping on the cake table.  It's also why I was able to successfully find tablecloths (celadon satin) that were an exact match to the bridesmaids' dresses (pistachio). And also why our monogram (a 'B' encircled by two pieces of Italian ruscus) started with our save-the-date cards, was brought in to our menu cards, and eventually finished on our thank-you notes.  Everything about our wedding was one, full thought that started with the initial correspondence, pulled through to the actual wedding day, and then completed via our final correspondence.

See?  I don't plan for these things to...expand. They just do when I'm left to my own devices.  Myself.

Anyways, as you can imagine, in my countless hours spend scrubbing the floors (which I didn't do today - hooray! My wrists are healed!), I think. A lot. I like to think about our baby, baby food, lighting, and plumbing. (yes, I'm that interesting). And with our third pendant still missing in action, I decided to take a lesson from my experience at Home Depot (the purchasing of the spray paint) and a hint from my light plates (also oil-rubbed bronze) and made the big decision to...(long, dramatic pause)...change the mini-pendants from black to oil-rubbed bronze. Shocker!  If you want to be technical, it's oil-rubbed bronze with champagne glass (from the San Dimas collection).

And that, my friends, is a game changer.

Why? Because it brings it all together. My chandelier is oil-rubbed bronze with ivory, satin shades. (well, it will be when I finish painting the damn thing). The chandelier will hang above the marble in-lay in the foyer, which is a lovely coffee-brown color. That marble is reflected in the new fireplace, which brings in the new light plate covers, which are also oil-rubbed bronze. The mini-pendants in the kitchen highlight the light plate covers and also bring in the new shag carpet in the family room.

And with that, my vision is complete.

I can't wait to post pictures. But sadly, I'm not sure when the new mini-pendants will be arriving. And even worse, I'm not sure when they will be installed. So, I will still take pictures on Saturday (or Sunday, depending), but you'll have to use your imagination in the kitchen area.

Whew! Almost done. :-)