Moving! Moving! Moving!

So I decided that I’m far too scattered all over the internet and am consolidating. I won’t be updating this blog anymore b/c all content is moving to Outta Jo, Onto You over at www.outtajo.com.

I would really love if you would follow me and keep in touch by:

• (re)subscribing with your favorite RSS reader and/or signing up for email alerts;
• following me on Twitter @outtajo for more frequent updates;
• looking for new videos over at Vimeo; and
• adding me as a friend on Flickr so you can see my photos & albums (99% are “friends & family” only — Flickr offers free accounts).

Outta Jo, Onto You will be my internet home for the foreseeable future (and I bought 5 years of URL renewals up front to prove it), so come on by!

Pacifist FAIL

My mom got Poppy this chicken for Easter. When you squeeze his wing, he dances around to the Chicken Dance song. Even weirder, though, is that when you pick him up by his head — or grab him around the neck — he stops singing and dancing and just wiggles and makes choking and sputtering noises. No joke.

Anyway, we have fun with this chicken. Whenever I turn it on, P looks at it confused, grabs it, and throws it to the ground. Not sure if she loves it or hates it, but it definitely captivates her. Daddy, on the other hand, likes to punch it to the ground and laugh maniacally, so we’re definitely not modeling peaceful behavior toward the chicken on any level.

But this morning? This morning she took it to a whole new level when she knocked the chicken over, then grabbed her director’s chair and knocked IT over… then stuck the chicken inside and clamped the chair down on his neck. I looked over to see her sitting like this, smiling, while the chicken flailed and choked and sputtered as if caught in a mouse trap.

What kind of kid are we raising?!

(Answer: Clearly not a veg*an one.)

Early Bird Special: The Love Thy Neighbor Edition

An exchange that took place in the elevator this morning, after our morning walk.

Poppy: Ahhh! Oooh! Oooh! [waving at our neighbor wildly]
Neighbor: She’s very cute. How old is she?
Me: Nine months.
Neighbor: Really?! [looks at the baby again] That’s it?
Me: Yeah, she’s tall for her age. Tall, but scrawny.
Neighbor: No, I mean you.
Me: Huh?
Neighbor (to Poppy): Mommy doesn’t look like she popped you out just nine months ago! She looks good!
Me: I love you.

In other news, the jogging stroller is repaired so I really should get running. I keep meaning to join the #runningtaters on Twitter and do the Couch to 5k, but it’s been so damn hot on the East Coast that I can barely stomach the thought. Ugh. Everything in time.

Early Bird Special: The Mommy Gets a Break Edition

Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!

Omg! I get to use the bathroom alone for the first time in a week! Wahoo!

It’s the little things, folks.

Fun Friday, Take One

My friend, Emma, works part-time, which means we have Thursdays and Fridays to hang out with the babes. A while ago, she suggested we do fun things on Fridays — y’know, get ourselves out of the house, out of the neighborhood, etc. I thought it was a great idea, especially considering we live in New York City and there is no lack of fun, free things to do here, but then life got in the way. She took a trip to England, us to Chicago, and so forth and suddenly, we’re nearly into August and we haven’t had a single Fun Friday yet. So we remedied that with our first Fun Friday today… on Thursday

Our first stop? The Brooklyn Museum! They’re currently running an Andy Warhol exhibit that caught Emma’s eye, so off we went. Sadly, although I’ve lived in Brooklyn for five years, this was my first time there.

The best part of the day? The a/c in the museum (brrr!) and the various fertility figures in the African art gallery.

The worst part? The Warhol painting that included “urine” as a component. Ew.

I’ll tell the rest in photos…

Look! Ancient Babywearing!

One of the several pointy-boobed figurines in the African collection.

Poppy recognized this guy. We have a stuffed "William" here at home.

Apparently that dude sending a text behind the sculpture in the Feminist gallery thought his message was far more important than our photo opp. I blame the patriarchy.

At the Warhol Show

Creating our own art amongst the art.

Lots of Jebus.

And, finally, just because they’re adorable…

Please pardon the cell phone photo. It was the closest camera in the moment.

It had been several weeks sine we’d seen Emma and Egon and it awesome to see Poppy genuinely excited when they showed up. She smiled and giggled at Emma and when we put her down on the floor next to Egon, she kept laughing at him and trying to climb him. As long as I stopped her from poking his eyes out, he didn’t seem to mind at all. Babies are fun.

[Not] On the Road Again

The past two weeks have been hectic.

On Thursday, July 8, we departed for a 10 day trip to Chicagoland to attend family reunions and catch up with friends and loved ones (more on that later). We got back to Brooklyn on Monday, grabbed a cab at the airport, and arrived back at our apartment around 1 o’clock. At 4:30, Tony left for Washington, D.C. for work.

For a week.

Ugh.

In the three short hours we had at home together, we managed to get the baby down for a long nap, unpack our clothes, and do laundry. But that was about it. T headed off for Penn Station right around the time P woke up and she and I have been struggling to catch up with normalcy ever since. Monday night was mostly spent just hanging out and preventing her from crying. Travel was pretty hard on her, as was being away from home and out of her routine for a week and a half, and if that weren’t enough to deal with, she left Brooklyn with 6 teeth and returned with 7.5. (Number 8 started to break through the gums the day before we flew back… which also happened to coincide with our second family reunion in two days and overwhelming socialization and dozens of new strangers… again…)

Anyway.

Yesterday was spent playing catch up with the baby on my hip. We had no food in the fridge so we went for a small grocery run. We stopped at the local coffee shop for a bagel (yes, this was necessary). I attempted to clean the apartment and finish unpacking and putting stuff away. I also tried to fold and put away laundry and put away dishes and pack and prepare for our looming trip to D.C. But P was clingy. VERY very clingy. So much so that I literally could not put her down. All day.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

Fortunately, she went down for bedtime relatively easily and I was free and clear by 7:10. Until she fussed at 7:40. And again at 8:30. And yet again at 9. Each time she woke up, I walked into the bedroom to finding her sitting up, still half asleep, whimpering and holding her arms out toward the door — where she expected me to come from. And each time, I had to go in and lay next to her, sometimes letting her comfort nurse for a few minutes; other times just letting her know that I was near. I gave her a small dose of Tylenol at one point to help with that pesky tooth that seems to be taking it’s sweet ol’ time, but that only helped so much. Eventually, she stayed asleep for longer than 30 minutes, but by that point, it was pushing 10 o’clock and I was spent.

Throughout the evening, I’d been making halfhearted attempts at planning for D.C. We had decided to join T down there from Wednesday through Friday, thinking Tuesday would enough of a recovery day for P and I between travels. Oh, how wrong we were about that. The more I thought about all I needed to do last night, the more stressed I got.

Early Bird Special: The Time Flies Edition

Can you believe she’s less than a week shy of 9 months old? NINE MONTHS. Blows my mind.

Cruising around Aunt Nikki's place.

Also, she discovered her tongue two days ago. Suddenly it’s her new favorite thing to play with and giggle about. Babies are funny.

Days In/Days Out

Dear Poppy,

Today is a unique anniversary of sorts for you and I. Today, you have been outside of my belly the same number of days you were in it.* You’re not yet 9 months old — that comes on the 20th — but you arrived 4 days “early” and the 40 weeks that doctors and midwives use actually counts the two weeks before you’re actually pregnant, so it all adds up.

262 days all together.

It’s funny how when I was pregnant, it simultaneously felt like I’d been pregnant forever and like it was all zipping by faster that I could keep track of. Life with you has been much the same. In some ways, I can hardly believe you’ve been here nearly 9 months, yet in others, it feels like you’ve always been a part of our lives.

Either way, it’s hard to imagine life without you at this point.

As I type this, we’re settled in at Auntie C and Uncle J’s new place. Everything is under construction as it gets renovated so we’re holed up in the office and you’re asleep on the futon on the floor. I’m next to you with the laptop, quietly typing away, my eyes drooping in exhaustion. Daddy is at a NASCAR race with your uncle (ha) and we’re just beginning our week of social visits, reintroductions, and catching up with family and friends.

The last time we were home with you, you were just 9 weeks old. This time, you’re like a whole new baby. And some days, you feel more like a kid … or a person… than a baby. You’re crawling and rolling and cruising and babbling and clapping and waving and blowing our minds. And we’re loving every minute of it.

The last 18 months have been awesome, and the last 9 particularly so. You’re an even better baby than I’d dared to hope for and I look forward to every day we get to spend together. You’ve enriched our lives and our marriage and I’m so thankful that you’re here with us. So so thankful.

I love you, Doodle Bug.

- Mama

* Yes, we know what day you were conceived. I’d been tracking my cycles for some time. But I promise not to skeeze you out with this information when you’re older. Well, maybe promise is a strong word. We’ll see how your sense of humor measures up first…

Early Bird Special: Movin’ On Up

For the first time ever, T and I have fancy phones. In the past, we’d always walked into the cell phone store and said, “I need a phone. One that makes phone calls.” and had to repeat that over and over as the various salespeople tried to sell us on all sorts of features beyond the ability to dial. We’d been interested in getting something more for a while, but are both pretty cheap folks, so we put it off for ages. Finally, in a fit of spendiness, we walked into Verizon the other day and walked out with two Droids.

Let the fun* begin.

* Speaking of fun… my mom called the day we got the phones and although I’d figured out how to tweet, stalk Facebook, access gChat, and take silly photos with a retro camera (see above), I hadn’t yet figured out how to actually answer it and missed her call as I fumbled with the damn thing. Ah, technology. I wonder if we’ve bitten off more than we can chew?

Happy Fourth, All!

Today is one of my favorite holidays because:

• it’s warm and sunny and spent outside;
• it has no religious connotations nor familial obligations;
• it involves fireworks, BBQing, and, if you’re lucky, beer; and
• because although I’ve been known to harshly criticize our gov’t on occasion (ha), I love this country dearly and am grateful to call myself an American.

I hope you’re all enjoying the day today! We’re heading to a friends’ BBQ this afternoon and hoping to wrap up the evening with some fireworks for Poppy, although the crowds of NYC have left us wondering how best to accomplish this tonight. Worst case scenario, we’ll watch them on t.v. after the munchkin has gone to bed, but that would be an awful bummer.

Anyone have any tips for enjoying the NYC fireworks in person with an infant?

p.s. I knew fireworks are illegal in NYS, but did you know this includes sparklers? Lame! There goes my fun idea for the baby this evening if we can’t make the official display…