Seven Months
It's hard to believe that it's already been seven months since Rolo was born. Well, technically it will be seven months tomorrow. Anyway, I'm trying to process that Rolo is now what they refer to as an "older infant". He's closer to being one now, than he is to being just born. Crazy.
I've already mentioned that Rolo's first tooth is coming through. So far, teething hasn't been too bad. He chews up his teething toys but so far he hasn't seemed to be in any real discomfort. Not surprising for this age, everything goes into his mouth. Including his own feet.
He's become much more agile with his hands. He passes objects from one hand to the other to inspect them. He likes trying to undo buttons on your shirt and is occasionally successful. He'll alternate which hand he uses every few seconds very methodically when attacking these buttons. He can put his pacifier back in his mouth by himself. He almost always grabs it by the rubber part that a baby sucks on, but instead of trying to shove the wrong end in his mouth, he passes it to the other hand, so he's holding the handle and then puts the rubber end in his mouth. So, you know, I think he's fairly coordinated. He objects when he take something away from him and he reaches fairly aggressively towards objects he wants.
Rolo can sit up by himself now, although his balance isn't so hot yet. He doesn't understand that if he bops back and forth while sitting, the end result is him flat on his back. Or face, depending. And the reflex to brace oneself against doing a face plant does not yet exist. Is it bad that I laugh when this happens?
Although he's gotten better at being on his tummy, he still hates it. He puts a good amount of weight on his arms and lifts his head up high, but is totally DONE with tummy time after about 5 minutes. He's always, since he was born, had remarkably good head control, but the arms, he'd just rather not be bothered using them for holding that head up, thank you very much. Not when he could be undoing buttons instead. Nor does he get rolling over. He's done it a couple of time, by accident, I think. And selfishly I don't mind that he hasn't really reached this milestone because it means I can leave him on the bed with his toys while I get ready in the morning without him rolling away. He does, however, love to stand. I'm guessing that he might try to walk before he crawls.
We've abandoned the infant car seat and Rolo has
a big boy one now. Here's the thing about the car seat. And the bugaboo, as well. The strapping into these devices? Rolo does not so much enjoy being strapped in. He makes noises of protest, something akin to
the bleeting he did as a newborn. Same thing when I try to zip him into a snowsuit. But once we get going, either the car or the bugaboo starts moving, he's fine.
Speaking of the
bugaboo, shhh...don't tell anyone, but I have a love/hate relationship with it. For Rolo, (other than the being strapped in part), it's the best. It takes on cobblestone streets and uneven pavements with no problem. You can flip it so the larger tires are in the front and like that, it kicks ass in the snow. I love that he can still face me, so we're chatting while strolling along. BUT. It's not a particularly light stroller, which I knew. And it's definitely not a one-handed operation to fold it. In fact, most days I feel like I need a third hand. There are times, particularly when getting in and out of the apartment, when having a stroller that folds more easily would be muy bueno. But it's probably one of the best stroller for him, and also, my husband very well might kill me if I suggested getting another. So I love it. Really.
Back to Rolo, though. He's still getting sick a lot and it's likely that he'll wind up with tubes in his ears. He's eating well, seems to like most things he tries. Except prunes and frankly, who can blame him? His teachers at daycare are starting to "train" him on a sippy cup, something I'm pretty sure is going nowhere fast. Rolo likes to hold his bottles, but only when he (and not you) feels like it. So I'm not sure he's quite ready for sippy cup land, but whatever, let them try.
Speaking of day care, he has lots of "friends" including his baby cousin (a whopping 4 months younger than him) who recently started there. If I put Rolo in a chair next to one of his friends, I've noticed he tries to hug them, or hold their hand, or touch them in some capacity. Only a matter of time before he's sued for sexual harassment, I bet.
Rolo's also starting to blow raspberries, and it's probably only a matter of time before he starts making sounds that involve consonants. I can't wait to see what the next month brings.
Labels: Rolo
Breaking Through
There is a tooth! A first tooth! What do you know? The baby will have teeth!
Labels: baby, Rolo
Not Better, Now I Know
As I suspected it might, my previous post jinxed things. Rolo partook in a vomiting party last night. I was out with my lovely friend Meg, and didn't know until I got home. I had a twinge of guilt that I was out having fun while my kid was sick, but...well, it wouldn't have made a difference if I was there.
This is frustrating. He's been getting sick about every other day. So this is either the strangest virus I've ever heard of (seriously, what virus is so lazy that it takes every other day off?), or it's an allergy (but again, if it's an allergy to his soy formula, which he has every day, why is he not sick every day?). The other wild card is the medicine he's taking for an earache. Today's the last day of that, so at least we can eliminate one variable after today.
For now, we've switched him to a hypoallergenic formula, Nutramigen, just to see if we can get to consistent days of non-puking. And then maybe we'll reintroduce the soy to see what happens. The hypoallergenic stuff is twice as expensive as the soy, but if that's what he needs, so be it. We've also made an appointment to have him tested for allergies.
Poor kid, he was so hungry last night and miserable. I would be too.
Labels: baby, Rolo
Better, I Think
I'm knocking on some wood as I type this, but I think Rolo is finally better. He had about five days of vomiting on and off. Which could have been caused by:
1. a bug going around daycare
2. a possible allergy to his formula
3. the medicine that he is taking for an earache
4. all of the above
On Monday, I attempted to switch from a soy-based formula to a milk-based one and the end result was additional puking plus hives. The poor thing nearly scratched his face off and started making God-awful sounds, causing Ron to panic thinking his throat was closing up. It wasn't and thankfully the whole episode was over within an hour. We'll have to test out a possible milk allergy (the only thing I can think of that would have caused hives) at a later date.
By the way, one of my best friends is a pediatrican and THANK GOD for her. She counsels me on many a situation with Rolo.
Labels: Rolo
Mama's Got a New Bag or The Obsession Continues
Okay, so I found two bags I could use for work. Two! Actually, many more than two, like
this one, designed for the lovely Reese Witherspoon,if I was ever crazy enough to spend $500 on a diaper bag (sidenote: I am crazy, but not that crazy).
The other bag, the one I have not yet broken down and gotten is this
OiOi hobo bag. It's ORANGE inside. How fun is that?
Anyway, the bag I actually ordered, on sale I might add, is none other than this
little number and I BEG YOU TO IGNORE THE NAME OF THE COMPANY. IGNORE IT! I'm honestly not sure how I'll like it as an everyday work bag, but I fell in love with the idea of it and the color. My guess is that I'll love it for a week, realize it's shortcomings and then order the OiOi bag. Because that's sort of my M.O.
Labels: style
It Could Be a Bug, or An Allergy, or Who the Hell Knows?
Please. Make. The. Puking. Stop.
Labels: baby, not the mama
Coveting
Apparently I have a thing for bags recently, because I'm also in love with
this one. Either in the green or geranium. This does not, however, diminish the love I still have for
this Vera number. In diaper bag news, I got a
Skip*Hop bag in black for everyday, casual use because either Ron or I could use it (for reasons that baffle me, he scoffs at the idea of using my Vera Bradely diaper bag) and it attaches to the stroller, which is key. I am still on the hunt for the perfect work bag--one that I can bring to meetings, but still be able to throw in baby food, or as the case today is, puke-stained clothing.
This bag by Rowdy was in the running, until I realized the strap really doesn't go around your chest, but simply over your shoulder. And really, I need something that's more of the messenger style, without being too messenger-y.
This was another option, but it might be too diaper-bag-ish.
Have I mentioned that I'm picky?
Labels: style
Mistaken
I half-heartedly watched pieces of the Oscars. I was confused why Rose McGowen
won for best actress. Then I realized, not so much Rose McGowen.
Labels: random, society
Choosing Joy
I have oodles and oodles to say on my adventures in motherhood so far and I've been composing a post in my head about it. It's still percolating, not ready to be published. But since we all know
I was apprehensive about being a mother, I thought I'd share that it's going really well so far. Doesn't hurt that I have an exceptionally well-tempered baby.
The other thing that I've been kicking around in my head is that you can choose for motherhood to be fun. Because let me tell you, if you don't actively choose that, it can be a big drag. The doctor's appointments, the rearranging of your life, the endless, endless cleaning of bottles and bottoms, the laundry, the feedings, the tummy time, the music time, the practicing sitting time, the lugging crap back and forth to day care time. Oh, don't get me wrong: whenever I see Rolo smile or hear him laugh, it makes it's all worthwhile, but that alone doesn't make it all fun. It's very easy to slip into the habit of seeing all the chores, all the work, how much of the work you might be doing versus how much your partner is doing, and it's easy to miss the joy. So I've been kicking around the idea that you need to actively choose joy. Because once you start looking at motherhood as all the work, all the chores, you're already losing the battle. Many parents of older children have said, and I imagine it's true, that having children doesn't get easier or harder, just different as they get older.
So you know, maybe I do get to choose what kind of mother I'll be, or rather, what kind of motherhood I'll have.
Labels: baby, Living, parenting
On Getting Older
Honestly, I've never really related to my age as a number. It still surprises me that I'm 32. Maybe that's because I never thought I'd get old. As in, I thought I'd die young. Is that morbid? Maybe, as a teenager I never thought I'd be around in my twenties, let alone my thirties. I don't know why I thought this, I just did. It didn't bother me much. Perhaps this is why I don't think about the future nearly as much as I should.
I still remember on the night before my 17th birthday, hearing the song "Jack and Diane", specifically the line "Hold onto 16 as long as you can/Changes come around real soon, make us women and men." And I just thought that was the most prophetic statement, like, ever.
Anyway, so this body of mine has always seemed young to me. I've never felt old. Sure, it's been almost a decade since I was able to party all night long--my body starts longing for sleep at about 10pm. Oh and my boobs have always (even before Rolo) been saggy. Other women, like my friend Christy, have nice, perky boobs. Me? Not so much ever. Are you blushing yet, Chris? Anyway, other than my saggy boobs and my early bedtimes, I've always felt young.
Until now. I had a delightful pregnancy, and a relatively easy labor and I thought I was home-free. But oh, no. That's when my body decided to start breaking down. First back problems, then feet problems, now knee problems. My body, once quite strong, now seems to be no match for carrying an infant and his gear everywhere. None of these problems on their own are very bad and frankly, I need to go to a doctor about some of them, but combined, they give the feeling of my body getting old. Giving out on me. Thirty two years of aging caught up with me all at once. I cannot even fathom getting pregnant again anytime soon. I don't think my back could handle it. Perhaps once I finally start exercising, maybe that will help.
And thirty-three is right around the corner...
Labels: On, winter of my discontent
Coveting
Currently, I'm lusting over
this bag.
Labels: style
Oscars
You know, a couple of weeks back, I was thinking to myself, "Self, you should have an Oscar party. You are lame and never go out anymore and the Oscars is an event which can be watched within one's home, so you should have people over." Great idea! And periodically since then, I've revisited the idea. And then today, I'm starting to realize that I never thought to look up when the Oscars actually are, but I now have the sneaking suspicion that they are this Sunday. I have this suspicion because Oscar news is popping up everywhere. And now, see, I already have plans on Sunday. So it would seem unlikely that I'm having an Oscar party.
I really need to organize myself better.
Labels: i like stories
Still Here
Not much to say. Still here. Bored. But busy. Weird, eh?
Labels: i like stories
Happy V Day
I've mentioned
before that we don't do much by the way of Valentine's Day around here. Tonight the plan is to order take-out tonight and open a bottle of wine that we got at a winery in Mystic in the fall of 2006. That is, assuming I don't have the flu. The fever, headache and severe joint pain I'm currently experiencing are suggesting otherwise.
I did get a card from Rolo in the mail yesterday. I'm very impressed that he was able to nagivate our postal system at such a young age. Also, that he was able to write out our address. What I love most about the card is that on the envelope, above our street, it was addressed to Mommy.
I could get technical here and point out that I prefer Mama instead of Mommy but I'll just leave it alone.
Labels: baby, random, Rolo
More With the Hippie-Dippy
I think I'm going to start two new labels for this blog: hippie-dippy and parenting. Although I wish I could come up with something more creative than "parenting".
Anyway, Clorox is introducing a new
"green" line of products. I saw a commercial for it the other day and was really excited. But then I started wondering if it was just a really big gimmick, because you don't generally hear about name-brands going all environmentally friendly. But this seems legit. Of course, the nay-sayers will still criticize Clorox because they still produce many non-green products. Whatever. I'm not looking for totally green companies (not yet anyway), just a name-brand alternative to
cleaning my entire place using distilled vinegar. Because that can't smell too good. There are, of course, other brands like
Seventh Generation, but I just don't know much about them.
Plus, there's always
Method (which I didn't really realize was environmentally friendly) that I always eye up in Target for their cool packaging. I'm getting ridiculously excited about this stuff.
Labels: hippie-dippy
Field House
On Saturday, Ron and I dumped the kid off at Ron's parents' house and we went to the
Auto Show with Deidre and Frank. Everybody seemed to find their dream car and for me, apparently it was a
Ford Edge. Well, not really. I like looking at cars, but strangely none ever totally appeal to me. Sedans generally speaking are not my thing.
I do like the Ford Edge, but as far as cars go, high-end, it is not. And if you're going to the Auto Show, you're looking for fancy. So I tried to be in love with BMWs. I love them from the outside and the interior leather was like butter, but the design of the dashboard irked me. The cupholders were chintzy. I know that cupholders are not an essential design element and that frankly, BMW probably cringes at having to incorporate them at all, but for $50k, it think they should be somewhat substantial.
I did enjoy the
Range Rover Sport I also like the look of the BMW SUV, but I've long held that it's ridiculous to get a luxury SUV. And again, the dash was probably annoying.
Anyway, we all had a ridiculously good time and afterwards, we went to
Field House, a new restaurant in the space previously occupied by Independence Brew Pub. Other than adding small TVs to every booth, Field Day changed virtually nothing from the Independence Bew Pub (IBP) design. I was definitely wary about going. Although IBP had a good location, their food was...meh. Plus, we were originally supposed to have our rehearsal dinner there, but last minute logistical problems caused by the IBP manager forced us to change the venue. Regardless, I was willing to give it a try.
The menu looked decent and I felt much better when I realized that this place was owned by the same folks as
Public House and
The Mission Grill. Not that I've been to either of those places either (well, I did have a beer once at Public House), but at least I knew that Field Day was not owned by the same folks as IBP.
Anyway, as the name suggests, Field Day is definitely a sports bar that just happens to serve food. We got the crab articoke dip which was quite thick, but pretty yummy. We also got an appetizer of fries with cheese and Old Bay seasoning. I'm not big on larger cut fries, which is what these were. Ron and I got the turkey club sandwiches on a pretzel roll. I love a pretzel roll. Turns out I wasn't much in the mood for turkey, but I think otherwise it would be a good sandwich. It had this mustard sauce, that was quite tasty. Deidre and Frank got burgers, which were huge, and they came with larger cut fries as well.
One appetizer that we didn't get (and should have) was the soft pretzels with a cheese dipping sauce. Seriously, how great is that as bar food? So all in all, I think Field Day is good place to watch a game, or to meet for a beer, particularly if beer is specifically what you're looking for. As a restaurant, it's okay for a casual meal, but nothing spetacular.
Labels: food, friends
That's Dedication All Right
Just about every morning I walk through
Washington Square, while taking Rolo to daycare and I choose this route purposefully because I think it's nice to get to walk through a park every day. Anyway, every morning there are about 5-7 elderly Asian men and women doing some form of exercise in the park and they all seem to know each other, although they are working out separately. Some are speed-walking, others are doing what appears to be a combination of calisthenics and martial arts. During the winter, they do these exercises while wearing parkas.
This morning I thought for sure I would not see them. But no, I was mistaken, there they were. Although, it seemed they were all speed-walking. I can't blame them. It's 12 degrees out with a wind chill of -4. I'm not even trying to exercise but I was doing a little speed-walking myself.
Labels: i like stories
Haunting
Check out the photos attached to
this article. The one of the baby actually falling? I cried. Even after I found out he survived, I cried.
Labels: random
A Little Hollow in My Heart
I do not particularly enjoy feeling disappointed in myself. But that's kind of what I've got going on here right now.
It's funny how people waltz in and out of your life. There are very few that I've ever cut out completely or on purpose. I feel like relationships can be very fluid, times when they are intense, and times when they are more relaxed. I always assume that I'll eventually get back in touch with those I have not spoken with.
I don't mean for that to make it sound like I'm a lazy friend. There are the solid friendships I have, the ones I work on, people that I speak with regularly--or somewhat regularly. But there are others, that because of distance, changes in circumstance, or any other in a host of reasons, I just don't speak to. I think destiny plays a hand in this. I haven't spoken to my friend, Captain Dan in...gosh, over 4 years now. And I think that's the way it's supposed to be. There was no fight, nothing weird happened...we just lost touch. I have not reached out to him; nor has he to me. But if he popped back up into my life, I'd give him a hug and say "Good to see you." Then I'd probably smack him upside the head. He'd likely do the same for me. Such was our way.
Anyway, there was a friend of mine that was not invited to my wedding. I wrote this post on my wedding blog back in 2005:
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
She Deserves Better Than This Okay folks, I'm going to be straight with you. My actual issue with weddings has less to do with the overall absurbity of wedding planning and more to do with a personal problem of mine. For years I have dreaded the thought of my own wedding. Honestly dreaded it. Made myself sick over it. Cried about it. I had a feeling that the day would inevitably come when there would be a ceremony, a reception, a big, white dress. And it the thought of it was devastating. Who knows for sure, but I might have been inclined to marry younger had it not been for one thing.
My Friend.
My Friend and I have been friends for years. To make a long, long, long story short, I had a falling out awhile back with my folks and My Friend was involved. Consequently, my folks won't stand for being in the same room as My Friend. I mean really, they won't. It might be ridiculous but that's the way it is. That's the way it's been for the last 12 years. And to give you perspective my relationship with my parentals isn't that great either, hovering on the point of estrangement at all times. We're civil, though.
I decided some time ago, that my wedding, should I ever get married would be a family event. I could use it to bring my folks back into the fold. I wanted that, I wanted to do right by them. It isn't a matter of who's right and who's wrong. It's a matter of family and I'm trying to bring mine back together a little bit. It's important to me.
Hence the issue with my wedding. No doubt My Friend should in my bridal party. I was just in hers. We've been friends for 15 years and have weathered a lot together. But there's the whole can't-be-in-the-same-room problem. So my choice that I had to make, no compromises, was between My Friend and my family. I chose my family. My Friend made it easy on me by understanding completely, telling me that for years she had assumed that she wouldn't be at my wedding. That's the kind of person she is, she makes things easier on those around her. It broke my heart, but her understanding allowed a tremendous weight to drop off my shoulders. I never wanted a large bridal party, just a few of my closest friends. All of whom I've been friends with since at least college, if not high school. All but one of them is a bridemaid.
So there you have it: one of my best friends isn't even invited to my wedding.
At her suggestion, I've spoken with her about wedding plans as though there was nothing weird about her not coming. I told her about the hunt for a dress. I told her about the on-going debate about where to have the reception. I sent her a picture of my dress after the World Tour was over. And maybe I did start to get a little excited about my wedding.
This weekend I learned, from her mother, that My Friend is actually completely devastated by not being involved, not even invited. She knows that she said it was okay. She understands it. She's just having a much harder time about it than she thought she would. And she's hiding that from me in the name of friendship. I'm sure me being involved in her wedding made it harder. I'm sure as I helped her arrange flowers, and tie ribbons, and apply makeup and fluff dresses, I'm sure she thought, "Wow, this isn't going to be reciprocal."
Now My Friend is honeymooning, but she'll be back and I'll know how upset she is. I can talk to her about it, but when push comes to shove, I can't change how things are, how things have to be. Each person has to make some hard decisions in life and this is one of them.
So now you know. I'm excited about my marriage. It's the wedding day that breaks my heart.She and I stopped speaking in January 2006, two months before my wedding. In the flurry of last-minute planning I'm ashamed to admit that I barely even noticed. After my wedding, I assumed some time would go by, let the wounds heal and we'd eventually get back in touch.
I had recently learned some news about her and thought it was time to reach out to her. So I did, and she politely refused any offers of friendship, like one might decline having a cup a coffee after dinner. I knew immediately that what I had fooled myself into thinking was a break in our friendship, actually was the end of our friendship.
I should have expected this, of course, but still, it saddened me. I think mostly because I know I have hurt her, and I wish things could have played out differently. But even now, I know that as it related to my wedding, I would have made the same decisions all over again. But still.
If I'm really honest about it, the wedding was just the straw that broke the camel's back. There were other things. She and I had become two different people since high school, so different that if we met now for the first time, I'm not entirely sure we'd like each other. The interesting part is that she is largely responsible for who I am, for that different person I became. She and her family had afforded me the opportunity to become a stronger person, a better person. So somehow, I'm left with the vague feeling that I used her and then moved on...although you have to believe me that it wasn't like that at all at the time.
There are a couple of occasions that stand out in my mind in which I am truly ashamed of my performance as a friend. I think I am a good friend--I'm not looking for any reassurances here. But I don't coddle my friends, telling them what I think they need to hear if it isn't true. I try to be gentle with their hearts, but I also dole out a good dose of tough love when I think that's what they need. And all that is not what I'm talking about here. The instances where I think I've failed as a friend are larger than any bit of tough love.
So I'm lumping this situation with my old friend in with those other instances of failure. I'm going to stew in this for awhile, but I think I know that from this I'm learning to be a better friend. I'm a big advocate for accepting responsibility not only for the decisions you make in your life and their consequences, but also for the out-of-your-control situations life may throw your way. You take them in, even the hard and crappy ones, accept them and they can, if you let them, make you a better person.
Labels: friends
Currently Coveting
This coat in green from Land's End. However, I need another spring coat like I need a hole in my head.
This bag, right now on sale, from Vera Bradley. Also, I wouldn't mind
this one.
Lastly, it dawned on me last night that instead of lugging a heavy leather tote bag to and from work (along with my soon-to-be-history pump bag), it would be much easier for me to have a messenger bag. Particularly when nagivating the city with a stroller. The tote bag straps slipping off my shoulders every time I try to open a door and push the stroller through is extremely annoying. Why a messenger bag didn't dawn on me, oh say, six months ago, I'll never know.
I need something that's professional enough for meetings at work, preferably that I could wear just over my shoulder (when not pushing a stroller) instead of across my body. But it also has to be something I can bring with me when I go out for drinks after work (in the rare instances that may ever happen again). So, I thought
this one, maybe. I do enjoy me a Coach bag. Then again, my current tote is Coach and it kind of weighs a ton, even with nothing in it. So I'd need to actually have this one in my hands to make a decision on it. Another possiblity comes from my other aforementioned go-to bag designer, Vera, with
this option. The problem with this bag, of course, is the crazy ass colors. Most Vera bags already look pretty casual because they're quilted cotton, but throw in a hot pink paisley and I would have to be pretty brave to show up to a meeting with that. Why can she not make one in plain black? That being said, I do enjoy the
Yellow Bird color. It's kind of crazy, but in a more elegant way than some of the others.
I think, maybe, it just might work.
Labels: style
Obama v. Hillary
Do you notice how every candidate is referred to by his last name, except for Hillary? Because Clinton just confuses people? Which Clinton? The former president? The democratic candidate? The American people just can't figure it out. Apparently.
Anyway, which would be better? I'm still torn. I've long dispised Hillary, but Obama's desire to make nice-nice with countries we typically don't make nice-nice with, makes me nervous. Could be a good thing though. Depends on who and what he hopes to accomplish. So you know, maybe I'm rooting for Hillary. I don't know just yet. Since I'm a registered Republican though, I won't have a say in who the Democratic candidate is. So why the hell do I even care who the Democratic candidate is? Because, and it's still early in the game here, but I'm inclined to think I'll vote Democrat come the presidential election.
Why? Well, duh.
The Republican candidates are a hot mess. I can't stand Romney. I kind of like Huckabee, but let's face it, he won't be viable for long. And McCain is okay, but he stance on immigration scares the living bejesus out of me. I've said before since just about everyone thinks the federal government is tanking, let's get a Democrat in there and see what he/she can do. Frankly, I think the only way we'll have a Republican president come 2009 is if the way far conservative right totally freaks out that there could be a woman or black man in office and consequently comes out in record numbers to vote.
Which, you know, is possible.
Labels: society
Exhausted
Well, my kitchen looks like a bomb went off, but the Superbowl party was a success. I'm happy the Giants won and it was a pretty exciting game. However, since Ron and I are now officially elderly, going to bed at 11:30pm was far, far too late. Also, I had 4 beers last night which is 3 more beers than I've had consecutively in over a year. To boot, Rolo decided to wake up screaming twice during the night. So, me? I am exhausted.
I'm going to reheat ziti and wings, have a beer and head to bed. Oh. I guess I'll feed and bathe the kid before that too. But honestly, I'm going to bed at like 8pm.
Labels: i like stories
Superbowl
Did I mention we're having a Superbowl party? You're totally invited!
Ron had the foresight to arrange this so that he couldn't really do much prep work. He's working today and tonight overnight, leaving me and Rolo to handle the cooking and cleaning. So far, Rolo is pretty much slacking off.
On the menu:
baked ziti
roast pork sandwiches with horshradish and provolone
wings
pigs in a blanket
cheese and crachers
plus an assortment of dips: guacamole, onion dip, ranch with veggies.
Gotta run, there's vacuuming to be done with
my new love.
Labels: friends, Living
Happy Half Birthday to Me!
He didn't actually get to eat the cupcake, of course, but he had a good deal of fun making a mess.
Labels: Rolo
The Sixth Month
So today's the day. The kid is six months old. Let's see, what's happened this last month? Um, yeah, not much. He's been sick. A lot. Double ear infections, pink eye, random viruses and most recently, roseola. Daycare is great for my sanity and not so good for Rolo's immune system. What else? He still hates tummy time. Still refuses to put much weight on his arms. I have to give him credit though; once he takes a position on something, he sticks with it. Strong-willed, he is.
I feel like the last month has sort of been a period of limbo, like we're on the verge of other, bigger and better things. Rolo can almost sit up by himself, but not quite. He can almost roll over, but not quite. He yaps away almost contantly, but isn't quite putting together vowel-consonant sounds.
We introduced solids the end of December and boy, does he ever chow down. The cutest part is that for as big as he's getting, he still looks like a very wee little person in his high chair.
Rolo is very nosy these days. He's always trying to see what else is going on and will contort himself into all sorts of weird and uncomfortable positions to find out who's talking or what's on TV or what that sound is. Gone already are the days where he's content to put
his head down on my shoulder and fall asleep. No, there's far too many interesting things going on and he often fights sleep, particularly if he's in an upright position.
Oh, I know what else! Rolo's ticklish! We realized this month that the bottoms of his feet, his inner thighs and under his arms are all ticklish. And we realized this because he's started laughing this rough, full-bodied laugh. And after a long day at work, it's the best sound. Ever.
Labels: Rolo
Dolce
On Wednesday might, I went to
Dolce with my friends, Christy, Star and Meg. Like my
visit to FARMiCia, this was part of Restaurant Week. Star posted
a review of the restaurant as well, and I agree with a lot of her sentiments. I think the food was all okay, some of it good even, but I wasn't bowled over. The filet mignon was good, but unimpressive. The ribeye I had at FARMiCia was more tasty and....really, the filet should have been better. I will say that the veggies that accompanied the steak were very good. Vibrant color, good crunch and flavor. But I noticed they were the same veggies that were served with Star's chicken marsala. Not that that's a problem per se, it just seemed a little lazy. Perhaps I'm overthinking this.
Anyway, the decor in Dolce is very modern and while that's nice, I think I've realized that I like my Italian restaurants to be the old-fashioned variety with red-and-white checked tablecloths. My Italian restaurant doesn't need to have a floor that lights up (I kept on having "Billy Jean" flashbacks).
One highlight, other than the fabulous company, was the Dolce martini. It involved pineapple juice and cinnanmon and while that might sound gross, I thought it was great.
All in all it was okay, and as Star indicated, probably better when it's not Restaurant Week. I wouldn't make a point of going there again, but I wouldn't avoid it entirely either.
Labels: food, friends
