Sunday, August 30, 2009
My dear Claire Bear,
I simply cannot believe you are going to be two in two measly months. What the heck happened to my tiny thunder-thighed baby? And yet, I cannot imagine you being a tiny baby anymore either because you are so wonderfully you at this age. You are an individual with your own sense of humor, your own desires and wants, your own need for hugs and kisses (which your Daddy and I are happy to oblige). You make me laugh so hysterically that I cry. (Like yesterday when you were jabbering away in your high chair during dinner and you burped and "daddy" came out like you were a troll. It still makes me laugh right now.)
I want to remember all the fun things you say, so here are a few from this stage in your life:
Us-You = I love you
Us-You, Mama = I love you, Mama (only the best thing to ever touch my ears)
Us-You, Daddy = I love you, Daddy (probably the best thing to touch his ears too)
Issba = Zebra
Spaket = Basket
Care Sandah = Claire's Sandal
Kak Kak, Yeah Yeah Yeah = Quack, Quack EI-EI-O (Admittedly, this one took us a while to decipher)
Mama, arr-yew? = Mama, Where Are You?
Howahyew???? = How are you?
Howahyew, Tundah? = How are you, Thunder? (To which he promptly freaked out because such a small child shouldn't be so awesomely smart and verbose. Oh yes you should! Woot! That's MY kid we're talking about!)
When we ask her how she is, she says GOOD!
Care Sad = Claire is sad. This is follwed by her saying "smi-yel" and pulling a fake smiley face.
Claire (Care), I'm utterly smitten by you. You wear me out, but you also lift me up and give my energy and love so deep I didn't know was possible.
I love you, baby girl.
p.s. Strangers still say how beautiful your eyes are and I couldn't agree more. |
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
So, no, I haven't worn them since. But I will. I paid too much not to. Oh, and my friend has continued to wear hers and she says they've "really turned a corner" and are a lot better feeling. So, it's possible. I'll just have to wait until it feels more like Fall to bust them in.
On another note, I've started a funky 6 week aerobics class with 2 friends. Why is it funky? Because it's hoolah hoop aerobics! Ha ha, you say? Yeah, I said ha ha too, until I did it. Dude. It's some serious workout swinging your hips overtime for an hour, let me tell you! I was sweating! I had a side ache! And I'm bruised now (jean bruises, hoolah hoop bruises. I'm a mess.) But it was fun and I'm excited to work on my core muscles. Perhaps it will help in the jean situation.
What else? I'm researching like crazy - cuz that's what I do. It'll be our (drum roll please) FIFTEENTH wedding anniversary in December and while we're home in Colorado for vacation, we're going to leave Claire with my mom for 2 nights (TWO NIGHTS WITHOUT A KID!?!? AWESOME!!!!) and go celebrate. I would love to stay in Aspen or Vail but it is so freaking expensive, especially the week after Christmas which is the only time we can do it. I may have found a nice alternative in Keystone, though. I'm still researching...it's my part-time job without pay! It would be funny if we stayed in Keystone and ate at the Keystone Ranch because that's where we dined for our first prom together. Talk about full circle!
Okay. Enough with my exclamation points and conversational blogging.
I must close the lap top, stop obsessing over this vacation, and watch some television before bed.
Night, all! |
Thursday, August 20, 2009
So, I put the jeans on when I got home from work and I'm proud to say that I was able to button them and almost zip them all the way up unassisted. That's progress, people. I'm wearing them now and have a hard time leaning forward to type. Breathe in, breathe out.
I had Huz snap some photos for you to see. These are very dark jeans, so it's a bit hard to see, but here goes. (How embarrassing!)
This is my mad model look.
This is me showing the camera my ass and my kid hiding her face in shame.
This is me successfully zipping the damn things up.
And this? This is my sweetheart ass, y'all. This is the reason I bought these - they make me look curvy in all the right places.
Call me crazy for spending that much money on a pair of jeans (I think I'm crazy too), but you can't argue with that ass! I'm just hoping I can breath normally while wearing them in a week and a half! (You so think I'm kidding, don't you?) |
My friend told me about her custom jean shopping experience last week and how she walked out with a really tight pair of jeans that somehow mold to her body after a week and a half of wearing them. I researched the place, as I always do, and found that a couple recently opened a Nashville jean shop with their own label. They come from a family of denim designers and launched their own place with plans to stay local to Nashville and not mass-produce.
I was intrigued.
But could a pair of jeans - even if they mold to my body and become custom fit (they make the jeans in the shop and hem them for you and adjust the fly and give you the button you want, etc.) - really be worth the price tag of $175!? Especially if it's not even my birthday or any special event? Am I worth that? I ran it by Huz before checking out the place because I didn't feel right in spending that on myself. Not only did he not scoff or tell me I was crazy, he actually encouraged me to get them. Because I'm worth it and they could help me remember that. Isn't he amazing!? Where did I find this guy?
So, off to Imogene + Willie I went with my friend who had been there the week before. The owner, Carrie, remembered her and shared how it took her 45 minutes to button the jeans when she tried them on (this was a normal experience and to be expected). Because, you see, in order to have their unprocessed, unwashed denim jeans mold to your body, you have to get them THREE sizes TOO SMALL. Hence the sweating and pain. Carried grabbed a 28 inch and a 29 inch for me to try on. I zipped up the 28 inch with ease, so I knew that wasn't right. Next she gave me a 27 inch and said, "now the pain will begin." Yes, I started to sweat as I tugged and tugged on the zipper - I instantly felt as I did when I was pregnant and couldn't fit into my pants - staring down at the expanse of my belly and the huge V of open pants that should have been covering it all.
After 10 minutes of "wiggling" (in public with all the other clients - including a very skinny male model who, I might add, was sweating too) I was able to zip them. They were tight, but the thighs were already loose. Carrie said they'd take the legs in for me since I obviously have skinny legs. But then she convinced me that they would be too big and baggy in a week. And I went down to a 26 inch. Lord have mercy. I pulled, tugged, shimmied, wiggled, stretched, squatted, and finally got them buttoned after probably 30 minutes and the help of Carrie who pulled the jeans together while I zipped.
And then I had them hemmed and I bought them.
And then I brought them home to show Huz and I couldn't zip them again - it took more pulling and squatting.
What a work out. But in the end I have a very unique pair of jeans that will last me forever, that make my ass look amazing (Carrie calls it the "sweetheart butt"), that will make me feel good about myself, and will always remind me of Nashville and this very insane shopping experience. It was like labor and all of us in the shop totally bonded. Thanks Carrie for the iced tea served in a silver cup during all that sweating! I needed it.
I can't wait to see the transformation that these jeans will take after a week and a half of wearing them - if I can button them up, that is. |
Monday, August 17, 2009
It's not that she can count perfectly: she counts to 3 until 12 slips in, but she gets that 2 means more than one. She went on a run with Huz this morning and was counting the bicycles that passed by. See his twittered account of the conversation:
"Claire: si-kull? Me: Where's the bicycle? C: Duh-no? Seeping! Me: The bicycle went nigh-night? C: Yeah! Also, she definitely gets the concept of two (as in, "Si-kull! TWO si-kull"). Is that normal for a 22mo? It seems kind of early to me."
And then the self thing. She pointed at herself yesterday and said, "Care. Self." and then pointed to me and said, "Mama. Self."
She's amazing!!! |
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Here's to flying high without hindrance!
Monday, August 10, 2009
Only to be outdone by my friend Emily who has a widowed grandmother with nothing to do but whip up cute tomato costumes for her daughter, my god-daughter, Mya. NOT FAIR.
Alas, I picked up my pride and enjoyed the terribly hot and humid morning with our adorable children taking it all in.
Reminiscent of a New Orleans parade, due to the big band sounds and the beads around necks, we danced around on the sidelines before joining in ourselves.
It was a fun, free morning, despite the heat. I guess I should be grateful that the Nashville summer has, for the most part, been really mild. If there is to be brutal, humid heat it should be in August after all.
Bye, bye Tomato Fest. See you next year!
Friday, August 7, 2009
My little munchkin chose her own outfit and did a remarkable job matching if you ask me. Not sure why she looks so sad though.
Here she was "helping" her Daddy cook. Not the cleanest cook in the house, but Oh my Jesus the Cute! She might be a Julia Child in the making, who knows?
Tuesday, August 4, 2009my food blog, skip over there now and feast your eyes.