Uh Oh.

He's mimicking.

Next comes mocking.

.. and a Happy New Beer...

So, Christmas whizzed by in a blur. Ella got every pink, Princess, sequined, glittery, feathery, girly toy, accessory, and clothing piece known to man, including a "Little Mommy Have to go" doll. She has been begging for this atrocious thing ALL. YEAR. LONG. And I said no. It's a doll that you put on the toilet, and the toilet flips over to reveal.. plastic human feces. You flush the little fake handle, and it flips back over to sparkly blue-looking "water". Now, I'm not sure what sort of sick and twisted R & D executive gave this thing the green light, but I really hope whoever they are, they got caught in the most recent round of layoffs. Because this thing is insane. You may as well design a tween doll that simulates getting her first period. I mean, think of the accessory packs you could sell separately! Genius!! Anywho, my four year old daughter, who is already potty trained, has been asking for this offensive bathroom denizen all year. Not just asking, but telling her teachers that all she wants for Christmas is this doll. Telling people she sees on the street that Santa is bringing her one. Telling me that if she didn't get it on Christmas morning, she would cry. Good thing she's not dramatic. So, I gave in. Sorta. I refused to buy it, but I allowed her grandmother to buy it for her. Which meant it would be at her house on Christmas morning, not here, at home, where SANTA came. So, after all the presents were unwrapped, presents which included such extravagant items as a kid's digital camera, a Dora train set, Barbies, My Little Ponies, and much, much more, she looked at me with her best pout and said, "where's the last one?" We explained, of course, that there were more presents awaiting her at Nana's house. And, boooooy, let me tell you. We may as well have wrapped up dental floss and socks for her here, cause everything she just opened took on a coal-singed, foul-smelling tinge once she understood that her Little Mommy Have To Go Doll was at Nana's. Later, Santa! I'm going to get my REAL toy!!!

So, other than Ella's beating heart leaping out of her chest when she unwrapped her amaaazing doll, Christmas was pretty uneventful. Lovely, kid-centered, and uneventful. Just the way we like it.

Now we're inching toward New Year's, my 28th birthday, and Ella's 5th birthday. And Ella's birthday is starting to give me heart palpitations. Not because she's expecting a party, or that we haven't even begun to plan something, but because this means she is FIVE. FIVE. YEARS. OLD. I can't even really wrap my brian around it. Ivan and I talk often about how it feels like she was a baby just yesterday. So, when she uses logic and symantics to trick us and get her way, we're all that much more impressed and astounded. And once she's five, that means it will be mere months before Noah is a year old. I swear to you, I can still smell the hospital room where he was born. It feels that recent.

So, in conjunction with my budding photography interest, I guess my New Year's resolution is to document and do everything I can to remember and preserve every moment. (Watching The Curious Case of Benjamin Button sure didn't help this "time slipping through my fingers" feeling, either.) But, hopefully, one day soon, when I forget what Noah's baby neck smells like, and they have both decided to hate us because we make them wear jackets, we can look back at photos of this year and smile. And cry.

But, mostly smile.

This Silent Night

Noah's first Christmas.

Let's hope for sleeping in heavenly peace....

CatDog

Everyone's all, "Ew, you have a chihuahua?" "What a little rat dog." "Why don't you get a real dog?"



And then they see this:





















And we're writing down directions to the shelter where we got her.


Oh, Coco. You sleepy, silent, nocturnal, prancing little bundle of snuggles. What would Ella do without you?

Sisterhood of the Travelling Pies

Well, it's time for an update, I suppose.

This past weekend, my mom, my sister Beth, and my grandmother came out to celebrate my grandma's 75th birthday with us here on the West Coast. My mom brought a homemade chocolate pecan pie and actual moonshine. Youbetcha! We began our weekend of celebration with Halloween night at Disney's California Adventure. Now, let me throw out a disclaimer here. We live only blocks from Disneyland, yet we don't go more than once or twice a year. This is due to many factors, including such gems as: 1. We don't have $300 per person for season passes. 2. Even if we did, we would feel dirty and ashamed for giving it to such a financially bloated corporation. and 3. If I hear the Its A Small World theme song more than once a year, blood begins to drip from my ears.

Anyhow, we figured with out of town family, the first time since Baby Noah's arrival, it being Halloween and all, we'd give it a shot. And I will say this: It wasn't terrible. Maaaaaybe a bad decision to bring a five month old baby to a theme park for an all-nighter, (Ivan was not thrilled about the fussiness, lack of sleep, and having to rock baby to sleep in his arms in the middle of Bug's Life Land) and probably too much walking for most 74 year olds. But it was a special occasion, and Ella loved every second of it.

Ella and Grandma on King Triton's Carousel:

Oh, yes, the costume. Let's address this, shall we? Months ago, and I do mean MONTHS ago, Ella announced very decidedly that she was going to be Hannah Montana for Halloween. I was shocked. First of all, the chick is four. Not eleven. Also, she has dreams of Disney Princesses, a Princess toothbrush, t-shirts, and all things Princess. She has been a Princess the last three Halloweens of her life. (The only Halloween she wasn't a Princess was her first, when I decided she was a cow. Totally embarassing for her now, as you can imagine. Princesses are NOT cows.) So, we went weeks battling the Hannah Montana front. I gave her other suggestions, I even paraded her into the Disney store, where I thought my flesh would burn, to show her the amazing princess options at her disposal. No go. So I dropped some money and bought the Hannah Montana shirt, leggings, microphone, and even the dreaded blonde wig. She was ecstatic. Until she saw, in Big Lots, of all places, a generic Princess costume with a HOOP. SKIRT. ...... Mommy. Why didn't you tell me there were skirts like THIS????

So, in an effort to push off teenagedom for at least another year, I caved and bought the HOOP. SKIRT. She never looked back.

So, that's THAT.

Did I mention she talked me into being a pirate? Maaan. But, that's a blog of a different color....

So, there we were, a trick-or-treating Disney family. Pirate, Princess, Grinch, and Baby stroller.

I'm sure it'll be one of her earliest memories. I hope it'll be remembered fondly.

After Halloween, we had a lovely lunch with everyone and my Uncle John from Santa Barbara, who met us in Long Beach. As we got out of the car at the restaurant, Ivan gave me one of his "This is NOT a good idea" look as it started to pour rain on the open stroller and us as we ran inside. We anticipated a screaming baby and angry looks from restaurant patrons, but ended up with this:

Apparently, my sister Beth has some sort of magical baby-calming powers.

After lunch was the Aquarium, and a peaceful dinner. Brunch the next morning with four generations of women, and that was that. Now, my grandma proceeds to Santa Barbara, where she will paraglide off the highest cliff in the county in order to cross it off her Bucket List.

I hope Crazy's not genetic....

Snack Time w Mama

The other day, I came across the news that Mother's Cookies is going out of business. Pretty sad, considering every kid in America has some childhood memory with these guys, whether it be the pink and white animal cookies, the Iced Oatmeals, you name it. So, I read the article about it, and I've been craving these little guys ever since. I resisted the urge to stockpile in the wake of the company's annoucement, and only bought one bag.

So today after school Ella and I sat down to milk and cookies. Cookies by Mother's, glass provided by McDonald's of Hawaii, and given to me by my own mother when I got my first apartment.

So, let's recap.

Ella and her mom, eating milk and cookies (an American mom's after-school tradition), cookies by Mother's cookies, drinking from glasses from my mother to me.

Someone start the Twilight Zone music.

Note to Self:

Before freaking out and calling the doctor becuase of horriffic findings in baby's diaper, try to remember that you fed him carrots less than 24 hours ago.


























Sorry, Dr. Chen.

Bill me.

Orange Hill

So lately I've been in a "my-life-is-about-everyone-else-first-but-no-one-cares-about-me" funk. That is the clinical term, by the way. Also known as "Mother of Two syndrome". And sensing this, in addition to listening to me scream it at the top of my lungs while standing on the toilet seat and shaking a jug of fabric softener, Ivan surprised me with a beautiful brunch at Orange Hill Restaurant. Ivan's not big on surprises, but he pulled this one off beautifully, and it was EXACTLY what I needed to maintain sanity.

The brunch buffet included such offerings as lamb osso bucco, king crab legs, a sushi station, an omelette station, breakfast fare, stir fry station, dessert bar, mochas with fresh cream, it was a stunning spread. And, considering my usual lunch of Grab Anything While Baby Sleeps, it was a hell of a recharge, culinarily speaking.

Not to mention the fact that it's on a hill (duh), and has the most stunning views of Orange County. That may sound like an oxymoron, but it really was beautiful.

Here's proof.

Sometimes that guy surprises me.

And I forget that I just picked up his underwear out of the bathroom for the fifth time this week.

A little dinner conversation.

Me: Ivan, you like Shephard's pie, right?

Ivan: I looooove shephard's pie. Almost as much as I love that waiter with a lisp at Orange Hill restaurant.

Me: Okaaaaay. Ella, do you like shephard's pie?

Ella: I looooove pie. What's a shephard?

Me: A man. Who watches sheep.


Ella: (looong pause....) Can I have a turkey and mayo sandwich?






















She ate the potatoes from the top and left the rest.

Numero Uno

Well, I finally climbed onboard the technology train. We're gonna give this blog thing a shot, and see where it goes. I figure, it'll at least be a good, centralized spot to archive and to share all our pictures and day to day stories as a family.

So, let's catch up, shall we?

There is too much. Let me sum up.


Ella is four years old. She just started preschool, learned to read and write her name in the first week, and loves every single minute of it. She loves broccoli, dancing, the musical Wicked, and her liddle brudder. She looks like this:
















Noah is almost five months old. He loves breastmilk, the color red, bathtime, and pooping on a regular basis. He can sit up straight, grab his toys, and will smile at anyone who will smile back. He looks like this:
















Except when I'm making him pose for pictures instead of feeding him, in which case, he looks like this:


















Either way, we think he's pretty cute.


Ivan's working too hard, as usual, playing softball once a week, and generally being Dad of the Year. I think he's got the competition wrapped up, considering he changed every one of Noah's diapers for the first two weeks of his life.

Ivan looks like this:















(pretty pensive, eh?)


And, as for me, I've been doing this stay at home mom thing since March, and I have my good days and my bad days. It is, without a doubt, the hardest job I've ever had, but (caution- cliche ahead) also the most rewarding. I wouldn't trade these days of being with the kids for anything. I'm absolutely sure that I'm learning more from them than the other way around.


I pretty much look like this:






















Anyhow, this concludes the update summation. Thanks for tuning in.

See you next entry.