Big Boy + Zoo

I'm telling you, these boys are sucking the creativity right out of me. I can't think of a clever way of tying together Gus' two month doctor visit and a trip to the zoo. So pardon the disconnect.

Here's what we learned at the check-up: Gus is big. Huge. Enormous. He weighs 15 pounds and is in the 95th percentile for weight! He's 24.7 inches and is in the 92nd percentile for length. I think his head is big too but in proportion with his body. The doctor actually sympathized with me about the spit-up and gave Gus some meds. (It probably helped that he spit

up all over the exam table as you can see in one of the photos below. This, however, was a very light spit-up day for Gus.)

And here are some zoo shots. It was Gus' first trip and, although he was very excited to go see the pandas, he fell asleep by the time we got to their exhibit.

And this is just me and my big boy, Gus! I mean big baby. Leo would correct me if he saw this. HE is the big boy. Gus is the baby.

Bumbo Practice

I remembered that Leo started sitting in the Bumbo chair around 12 weeks. Here's Leo back in the day!

Since Gus is 10 and some change, we thought we could attempt the Bumbo with him too:

I now know why they call it the Bumbo. When he sits in it, he starts to fall over to one side and drool. And he doesn't care at all! He looks a little pathetic--like a Bumbo.

Here's Leo trying to play peek-a-boo with Gus while he's in the Bumbo. I told Leo that he liked peek-a-boo a lot when he was a baby. Gus isn't into it yet (and Leo probably wasn't at this age either). But Leo said, "I liked peek-a-boo and Gus doesn't. We are opposites!"

Had to emphasize that you put the cloth over your OWN face and not the baby's!

Now he's getting the hang of it!!

The Sam's Shake-up

Overall, I've really been impressed with the kindness of Georgians. I rarely have trouble switching lanes in traffic; most people I encounter use their polite words; folks are always careful not to offend each other. But everybody can't be perfect. Never was this more clear than the woman I encountered at Sam's today.

As a precursor to my story, can I just give a mini-rant about shopping in the 21st century? I've said it before but I just want to shop anonymously! I don't want another card in my wallet; I don't want to be part of your club; I don't want to give you my phone number, email or social. I mean, whatever happened to going in a store, buying some things, paying for them and leaving? It's impossible!

Back to my real rant: So I walk into Sam's (with Gus, by the way, who is a ticking time bomb like all babies) and the woman who checks my membership card starts asking me if I've heard about some program they have...savings...all kinds of discounts...I'll love it...blah blah blah. I should have just said "no thanks" but I made the mistake of nodding I guess so she then leads me over to this other guy and says I'm interested in this program.

Then the guy explains it in a way that I decide that yes, I do need to upgrade my membership and I follow him over to the customer service desk to do this. But the whole time I'm thinking, "I need to really hurry because Gus is going to wake up and I don't have a lot of time..."

When we get to the desk another employee says to my employee, "Oh, can you ring her up real quick?" about some other customer. He said, "Yes, as soon as I help her" (about me). The customer who needed to be rung up (again, we're at the customer service desk, not a check-out lane) asks me, "Do you mind if I go ahead of you? I'm kind of in a hurry."

I was actually speechless. No, it's not the craziest request ever but what about me made her think I wouldn't be in a hurry too? I mean, she didn't have a two-month old baby with her! And even if I didn't have Gus, she knows nothing about what's going on in my life. I remember when this happened to my friend Claire she fired back: "I guess you think your time is more valuable than mine?" That's totally what I wanted to say but I was really frozen. And since I didn't say anything she said, "Thanks" and got in front of me.

I glared at her. I glared at the guy who HAD been helping me. And then I stormed off. He yelled, "Miss! Miss! Come back!" But I didn't. I just went on with my shopping. If he really wanted me to upgrade my membership that bad then he could have said, "I'm sorry. This lady was here first." And THAT LADY! I have never in my life asked someone if I could go in front of them. And I have been in a big hurry plenty of times. But I figure it's my own fault that I'm in a hurry. I obviously didn't calculate the time correctly. I would never expect the person in front of me to have to wait because of my poor time management.

Then, get this: I'm in the frozen food aisle and the guy comes back there and finds me. Now, I have to admit, that's pretty good customer service, even if it is a little stalkerish. I glared at him some more and rolled my eyes. He said, "That lady was so rude! I'm so sorry. But you could save $2 on these paper towels if you upgrade your membership!" After telling him I felt bullied into that whole upgrading my membership thing anyway, I carried on with my shopping.

But ultimately, I did upgrade my membership...but not until I was checking out, just to make him suffer a little.

Oh, and while I was upgrading my membership and taking a new Sam's picture, Gus screamed his head off.

Thanks, lady. I blame you and that hurry that you were "kind of in."

Potpourri Pics

Usually I can wrap my pictures up in a neat bow, all relating to one topic--something quirky Leo does, a milestone for Gus...but this batch is just that, a batch.

A Grumpy Gus says, "Do I have to go to church?"

Brothers hanging out: one is going for the "no pants" look...

...while the other is going for "pants too high."

SSC! So Super Cute!

Leo was the leader of story time at our house. He told Gus and me to be quiet!

Small Sacrifices for Somalia

Anderson Cooper totally got to me the other night. His coverage of the famine in Somalia made me cry. There are a lot of sad things in the world but people going hungry, to me, is one of the worst. And let me just give a quick shout out to Anderson Cooper, who I think is an incredible journalist. See, AC doesn't treat reporting like a job. It's clearly his passion. He's so sincere when he covers these tragedies. You can tell it really affects him. No wonder he turned prematurely grey.

He talked about a family in Somalia who had lost all their children to the famine. Their last one had just died and they still had his body because they couldn't afford to bury him. Anderson paid for it because, he said, "It was the humane thing to do."

So I started thinking about what I could do to help Somalia. First, I went to the website that AC told me about: www.cnn.com/impact and gave money to Save the Children. And then I started thinking like Oprah: how could I make my donation go further?

Here's my idea: I'm going to encourage people to make "small sacrifices for Somalia." Just think of some little luxuries you could give up for a month so that these people in Somalia could have the simplest necessity. When I told Frank about this he said, "Oh, so you could give up the housekeeper for a month?"

Now that's just silly. No reason for the housekeeper to suffer too!

Instead, I reasoned that if our family could give up going out to eat three times in a month, I could save $100. (I'm talking about restaurants with a waiter, not Chick Fil-a). So I was able to give $100 to Save the Children.

And $100 feeds a child for 100 days!

Here are some other ideas:

Skip the movies for two people one time and you could give $20. If you usually get candy and drinks, you could give $30.

Give up a Starbucks froo-froo coffee (the kind that costs $3+) @ twice a week for a month and you could give $25

Usually buy wine at the grocery store? Sacrifice two bottles at $9 each (you don't spend more than $10 usually do you?) and you've got $18 to give (although you could probably round that up to $20, don't ya think?)

Instead of buying ten shirts at $20 each for your fall wardrobe, buy eight. Then you've got $40 for the famine.

The point is that these are little things that you probably wouldn't even miss anyway. Now, the housekeeper, that I would miss. But going out to eat, that's a small sacrifice. You could also look at it this way: would you really miss a dollar a day for the next 100 days?

And yes, it's true that insecurity in this part of the world sometimes makes it difficult for aid to reach the victims. However, organizations like UNICEF, the World Food Program and Save the Children are constantly on top of this and they do manage to get in. So don't think that your donation won't go where it needs to go.

So make a small sacrifice. Feed these hungry kids. Don't let Anderson Cooper's hair get any more grey than it already is.

Please comment on this blog if you give and then we can really see how much my "campaign" generated!

Gus has been here two months

Gus is excited because he turns two months during his favorite month!

Here is what our little August has been up to:

He's getting really big! I don't know how big he is but he's got rolls everywhere. I love his little thunder thighs and his muffin top that hangs over his diaper.

He's still very content. Smiles are fleeting so they're special. He'll give us a big grin and then immediately it's back to serious-face. The word "poo poo" seems to give him the giggles.

I'm afraid we've got another spitter-upper on our hands. I put him in this outfit this morning and by the time I took the picture, he had made his mark. We had to remove it after this photo shoot. The other day I put him in his car seat, a good 15 minutes after he had eaten, and he started spitting up like Niagra falls. His entire onesie was soaked through; he was swimming in it! I've already traded burp cloths for receiving blankets and I think soon he'll become the bib kid, like Leo was.

He coos. It's cute.

Just last night he slept in his own room for the first time! He still wakes up once at night (or sometimes it's like 5:30 or 6:00 which I count as the morning).

He's often mistaken for a girl. I think it's because of his pretty eyes.

He's just a good, sweet boy. He really only cries when he's hungry or when he's hurt (like if big brother pulls his hand a little too hard).

Leo is very protective of him and every time someone looks at him Leo says, "No! Don't take him! He's ours!"

I can't blame Leo. I mean, Gus is so adorable it makes sense that people would want to take him!

We tried to take the "Gus 11" picture (Thanks, Jacquie, for the awesome t-shirt!) but I think we need a re-do. I must have forgotten that Gus can't hold his head up by himself yet.

Friday Night Bites

The other night Frank and I took “the kids” to Bahama Breeze. When we told the waitress that she could feel free to bring out Leo’s mac and cheese before our food she said, “Hey, were you guys here last week?”

She remembered our mac and cheese request from the week before. And when the guitar player recognized Leo we knew what was happening…

We were turning into our parents.

We now had a Friday night place…a restaurant that we keep coming back to every weekend, rather than venturing out to a new one or even a different one.

For my family there were three restaurants that we frequented on  Friday nights. Now, I don’t mean that we rotated these restaurants. I mean that for a period of about three to five years we patronized Wendy’s (back when they had the salad bar). Then it was Grandy’s. And finally, Golden Corral. (Or it may have been Grandy’s and then Wendy’s but it was definitely GC when I was in my teens.)

It was like a ritual. There was no discussion of where to go. We would just automatically go to the same place.

In Frank’s family it was Little Caesar’s Pizza. Every Friday they would pick up Little Caesar’s and bring it home. Never did they have it delivered. Never did they venture out to Domino’s. And never did they eat it on premise (although I’m not sure if LC’s has seating.)

I guess once you become a family of at least four, you’re so tired of making decisions that you need one thing that’s just consistent. Or maybe you just go with the one that works—the one that makes the majority happy.

But we were surprised that our Friday night staple would be Bahama Breeze. For one thing, when we first moved to Atlanta we made a point to only go to restaurants that we couldn’t go to in Texas. But after four years, we feel like we’ve tried enough Atlanta originals and we’re fine with the familiar. Plus, Frank likes the Aruba Red beer, I like the food and fun drinks and Leo likes the mac and cheese and guitar player. Oh, and Gus thinks it’s a great place for sleeping in his car seat.

Still, if you had told us four years ago that we’d repeatedly visit BB, we’d say, “No way!”

Also, it’s a little pricey for a weekly trip. If we’re gonna adopt a restaurant and become true regulars, we’re gonna need to take it down a notch or we’ll go broke.

Easy problem to solve: There’s a Golden Corral right across the street from BB. I don’t think they have Aruba Red but I hear the mac and cheese is excellent. 

Gender Roles

Here’s Leo being silly in front of the mirror one night before bath time:

 

 

Like Mommy Like Leo

So lately Leo’s thing is that he doesn’t like napkins. I realized this when he requested that we move the napkin holder to our bedroom. I thought that was ridiculous so I put it on top of the fridge (as if that’s not ridiculous).  He said he couldn’t look at the napkins while he ate. When I asked him why, he said, “Because Leo is on the napkins.” While that didn’t make any sense, his comment about not looking at something while he ate sounded familiar.

As a child I, too, could not look at certain things while eating. (I still can’t watch talk shows while eating.) We had a framed poster of a bull fighter  hanging in our kitchen and I never liked to have that in my line of sight during a meal. I told Frank, “Now if he didn’t want to look at that (pointing to our framed poster of a lady sipping a martini that hangs in our kitchen), I could understand!”

And then, a few days later, he announced that he also couldn’t “look at that lady and eat.”

Oh my gosh, what have I done to him?

 

 

Here are some pics of how Leo sits for every meal:

 

 

 

And here are some pics of Gus who is most likely thinking, “What kind of family have I gotten myself into?”

 

Ugly Theories

I’ve always wondered why wearing glasses makes you seem smart. What does poor eyesight have to do with intelligence? It’s like saying that deaf people are good dancers. Or people with severe acne are great cooks. Or bald people are excellent painters.

I could go on and on.

But I have made one revelation along these lines. I have figured out why people who make good grades are often ugly.

Hear me out: I’m not talking about “ugly” as in these people have bad features (although they might). I’m talking about the kind of ugly where the people just don’t do anything for themselves; they’re not put together. They’re disheveled, frumpy.

I first came to this conclusion in college. Up until the second semester of my junior year my grades had been so-so. Sometimes they had just been so. My appearance, if I may brag a little, was better than so-so. I had a well-kept mane of blonde hair; a slim physique and I always sported flattering clothes (well, for the 90s).

But in the spring of junior year I took on a challenging course load: several upper-level advertising classes (they’re hard; I promise!) and an intense creative writing class. Instead of sitting around the sorority house primping, I was at the library—studying, meeting with groups or writing and editing papers.

One day I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror: glasses, messy pony tail, wrinkled t-shirt, no make-up…I had turned ugly! My priorities had shifted. I didn’t look good because I didn’t have TIME to look good. “I now know why smart people are ugly!” I announced in the TV room to my sorority sisters. They turned to look at me for a second, probably saw that I had forgotten the rule about “double lettering” (wearing sorority letters on your hat as well as your shirt) and went back to watching Dawson’s Creek.

I may not have gotten any dates that semester but I did get a 4.0. (Things went back to normal senior year. Good thing or I might not have met Frank if I had been so ugly!)

Recently I thought of this theory because I realized it applies to moms as well. Often we look disheveled and frumpy. And why do we sport dorky clothes like mom jeans? For the same reason as the smart people. We don’t have time—no time to fix ourselves up and no time to keep up with the current trends. My boys occupy so much of my time that I have decided to stop blow drying my hair all the way. It used to take me about ten minutes to get it good and dry. Now I need those ten minutes so I only allow myself to spend five minutes drying it, just enough so it doesn’t drip everywhere.

That leaves me with wavy, straggly hair—UGLY! I just have different priorities now. But it should all pay off in the end. Hey, I wonder what the equivalent of a 4.0 is in mommyhood?

Hodge Podge

Here’s what’s happening at our house this week:

 

Leo is always getting up in Gus’ face. Here’s a cute video of what that looks like:

 

 

I’m trying to encourage Leo to dress himself so that when he goes to preschool he can put his clothes on in the morning. We have a sticker chart and everything. He’s pretty good with the bottoms but obviously, we need a little work on the top (unless he’s going to a toga party)!

 

Today I took both boys on a walk by myself for the first time!

 

And finally—if that wasn’t enough excitement—Gus posed for a picture that will go in Frank’s high school alumni magazine.

Keep checking back for more exciting tales and photos from our expanding family! (I should say “expanded,” not trying to imply that we are expanding anymore).

Abby, Abby, Abby

Dear Abby has done it again! Why do I keep reading her column? I can’t help it; I just love to read about people’s problems. What I need to do is stop reading her answers because they are SO ridiculous.

I’ve ranted about this before but where I think Abby is the most off-base is questions with the theme “How do I put this?” These people are trying to find delicate/polite/tactful ways of addressing uncomfortable situations. For instance, let’s say someone asked Dear Abby “How do I tell my co-worker “Wanda” that she has body odor without hurting her feelings?” I’m sure D.A.’s response would be, “Tell her, ‘Wanda, you may want to consider showering in the morning before coming to work because I can smell you from my cubicle which is 30 feet away. Also, make sure you are using a soap with a pleasant scent. This will help you to go further at work.”

Wanda’s gonna love hearing that. And what’s more, Wanda is so going to appreciate her co-worker’s honesty and they’ll totally stay friends.

All of Abby’s advice in this arena is fine if the person doesn’t want to remain friends with the other person. I mean, if we could all just going around saying what we thought then we wouldn’t need to write to you, would we, Abs?

I thought this rant was worth revisiting because Abby delivered a doozy recently. Here’s the letter:

DEAR ABBY: For the past 10 years or so, at bridal and baby showers I have attended, blank envelopes have been handed to guests upon arrival with instructions to self-address them. This, apparently, saves the gift recipient time having to address envelopes to the gift-givers.

I usually set the envelope aside and don't fill it out, but last week the guest of honor's mother handed me an envelope and pen and stood there until I completed the task.

After spending time and money shopping for and paying for a gift, I feel insulted having to address my own thank-you envelope!

Can you think of an appropriate response when I'm asked to participate in this insulting new party ritual? Or should I stay quiet and accept that most people are ignorant regarding good manners? -- INSULTED IN OHIO

Back to Writinggal: I totally agree with “insulted.” I think this practice is totally tacky. I mean, why don’t we just write our own thank-you notes,  have the guest of honor sign them and then take them home that day? That way the gift-receiver could save time AND a stamp! I was curious as to what Abby would say so of course I read on:

DEAR INSULTED: How about this for a response: "After spending my time shopping for a gift, and my hard-earned money to pay for it, it is insulting to be expected to address my own thank-you envelope. If she likes the gift, she can address the envelope herself. If not, she can return the gift to me."

Back to Writinggal: Really? That’s what she should say? Because that’s even ruder than the thoughts “insulted” was thinking! Guess she should have added, “I’d like to remain friends with both the hostess and the guest of honor so I need to be careful how I word this.” Because after a rant like Abby suggested, “insulted” might as well storm out the door, Diaper Genie in hand.

If I were writing the column, I would say:

Dear Insulted: How about this for a response: “Oh, that won’t be necessary. We’re good friends so she has my address.”

It’s still direct but more polite, don’t ya think? I should totally take over this column. I have a hunch it pays more than writing this blog.

 

Gus has been here ONE month

 

Here is the first of Gus’ monthly blogs--you know, like I did with Leo. I’ll post a picture of him in the green chair and talk about what he’s into. This one should be easy:

-Eating

-Sleeping

-Pooping

 

 

Well, maybe there are a few more things we’ve learned about Gus:

--He’s so cuddly.  He loves to be held and he’ll put his arms around our necks. His favorite way to be held is in the “burping” position, up on a shoulder.

--He doesn’t really care for sitting in things like the swing or the bouncy chair. I mean, he’ll sit there but he rarely falls asleep and he only lasts a few minutes.

--Jury’s still out on the pacifier. Sometimes he likes it but I don’t think he’s a true paci kid.

--He’s very consistent. He eats every three hours during the day and can now go longer at night (yea!) The last few nights he’s gone five hours in between feedings.

--He’s quite content. Sure, he gets upset when he’s hungry or tired but he’s yet to just cry at length for no reason. It’s usually easy to figure out what he wants. (Or maybe we’re just brilliant parents).

--He’s so stinkin’ cute!! And he’s getting rolls which makes him even cuter.

Everybody wants to know how Leo is doing with him. Leo doesn’t seem jealous but he is a little bit aggressive. He likes to get up in Gus’ face and say, “Baby Baby” while pulling on his arms or poking his cheeks. He also wants to check on him all the time. Oh, and he’s not as helpful as I thought he would be. If I drop a burp cloth and ask him to pick it up, he refuses. And everybody told me a three-year-old should be able to “grab a diaper.” Not happening.

 

Leo does let Gus hang out on his big boy bed:

 

 

And here’s Gus hanging out with his best pal, Pascal

 

Soon after these photos were taken, Pascal tried to eat Gus. Luckily, Gus is a forgiving guy.

Signs you’re in a Pyramid Scheme

Have you ever noticed that people who are in pyramid schemes never seem to know that that’s what they’re doing? They call it “multi-level marketing” and somehow think that makes it all different. That’s because in a true pyramid scheme (which is illegal), there is actually no product being sold. But with MLM, there IS a product, it’s just that the product is secondary to the real business going on—recruiting friends and acquaintances to pay into the business. So I say it’s still a pyramid scheme, just a legalized pyramid scheme.

The popularity of social media is breeding even more pyramid schemers, I’ve noticed. Sometimes they’re pedaling their products but most of the time, they’re pushing the scheme—that is, trying to recruit more disciples to buy into the biz. If you’re not sure if your “job” is part of a PS, I’ve put together this handy checklist to help you out.

If you are required to buy a heap load of product to start your job, you might be in a pyramid scheme.

(Please add “You might be in a pyramid scheme” silently to yourself for each subsequent item.)

If you throw parties or have friends throw parties that require friends to bring their checkbooks…

If you feel compelled to recruit friends to sell products…

If 75% of your Facebook and Twitter posts are about getting people to “join your team"…

If the other 25% of your Facebook and Twitter posts are about how great your life is because you work for yourself…

If you find yourself preaching about your products and your get-rich-quick career to anyone who will (or won’t) listen…

If you stalk women at Target and approach them about your business…

If friends are running from you or won’t call you back because all you talk about is trying to get them to sell something…

If other people on your team have won cars and trips but you haven’t because you feel awkward hitting up your friends and/or strangers at Target…

If your business model looks like this…

 

Fun for the 4th

In our family, we always kick off the 4th of July with Frank’s birthday, which is on June 30th.  This year was no different, except we kicked it off with a “summer cut” for Leo and then celebrated Frank’s birthday. We also had family in town—Granny Jo, Popsy and Tia. And of course it was Gus’ first Independence Day. The days leading up to the holiday were sunny here but we had rain the evening of the 4th. We still had fireworks; we just watched them under umbrellas. And we still had store-bought explosives; we just enjoyed them from the garage. Classy.