Funny Stuff

I had a LOT of fun yesterday with Matthew and the bucket that his blocks go in. I must have been very tired because I felt like the sight of him with a bucket on his head was the funniest thing I had seen in years. I laughed and laughed. You can see me in the background laughing. My poor little boy was trying to get away from the evil bucket, but I just kept putting it back on his head. Finally, he thought it was funny, too.

There are a couple of new videos up, too. My personal favorite is Matthew rides his hog which something that he actually won't do anymore, so it's pretty special. Now that we've got new batteries in the Flip video camera, I'll post some more videos soon.

Beef Cake

Ever since Matthew started crawling a few weeks ago, he does this pose that makes him look like a beef cake. You'll know which pose I'm talking about when you check out the pictures below. It's the one that looks like he's shooting a cover for the latest "hot guy" magazine. He usually does it when he's crawling away from you and needs to look back for some reason - like, perhaps, because you're trying to distract him from crawling out the door. Or because you want him to "do the beefcake". Either way, when he does it, he gets this look on his face like, "What? Me? You think I'm adorable? Well, you're right. It's just too bad that you can't have me. I'm busy. Busy being a beefcake." Then he rolls over into a crawling position and he's off. That's all he had time for. He's a very busy baby.

Chore Day

Today is chore day. I had to institute chore day after spending months driving myself crazy each week trying to get all of the weekly tasks, a couple of monthly tasks, and maybe a quarterly task accomplished. (I'm both embarrassed and proud to admit that I have a chore chart which I used to keep track of all the chores that need to be done.)

Now, I've changed my tactics and have decided that there only needs to be daily, weekly, and "as needed" chore charts. Each day, I consider myself successful if I do all of the daily chores - washing diapers, washing dishes, cleaning up spit-up off of the floor, making dinner. And one day a week, when Jeff is home, he and I have "chore day" and get all of the weekly chores done - laundry, sweeping, grocery shopping. Then, on his other day off, we will both take a day off from work. We'll eat frozen pizza and watch movies. We'll go to the beach. We will REST.

With the jackhammer still hammering away and making things feel a bit chaotic even when they aren't, we managed to get everything done before noon, except grocery shopping.

We made the bed.

We washed the diapers.

Now Matthew is sleeping - even with the jack hammer - because he's exhausted from all the work. I'd be sleeping, too, but, well, there's a jack hammer in the back yard. I feel better about the crazy day I had yesterday because, after about 10 minutes of hammering, Jeff said, "I've got to get out of here. This jack hammering is making me crazy!" He was sort of kidding, but he was at least admitting that he finally understand why I was so frazzled yesterday. At one point, I called him to say, "Why can't these people show some courtesy and give us some notice!" When he replied, "People aren't courteous, babe" he didn't understand why that wasn't the answer I was looking for.

Now, we're in this together and think we're getting out of it together, too, by making the grocery shopping a family outing. I tell you, I can think of nothing more exciting to do on Sunday than head to the grocery store with my husband and 8 month old. Good times.

Jack Hammer

At 6AM this morning, I woke up for the first time since I went to sleep at 10PM last night. That's right, thanks to Connie, world's-greatest-babysitter, Matthew slept through the night for the first time in months. I'm not she what she did to make it happen, and it was all I could do today to keep from asking her to come over and put him to bed again tonight. Luckily, I had a lot of other things on my mind thanks to our neighbors. They have taken on a new home-improvement project which first involves digging to China. Amazingly, I think their intention is to dig an enormous hole and then fill it back in and then build a house on top of that. I hate them.

The reason I hate them is that this morning, just after Matthew had gone down for a nap, the apparatus you see above started doing its work in their back yard, about 10 feet from our house. No joke. I wasn't too worried because yesterday Matthew slept through the jackhammering, but I didn't realize that yesterday's jackhammer was a crappy little handheld jackhammer that didn't do the job and so today we had the jackhammer with some muscle. It has such big muscles that every time it started up, the entire house shook until it stopped. Of course, Matthew woke up early from his nap, refused to eat from all the commotion and I saw my dreams of another sleeping-through-the-night night going up in dust.

We even left for a few hours, only to come back to different large noise-maker doing work in their yard. At that point, I had had it. I scooped up a sleepy, frustrated, blood-shot, whiny Matthew and stormed around the corner to demand explanation of why these inconsiderate losers hadn't even bothered to inform us about the construction. (I realize that it's their right to do construction on their home, but I would have really appreciated a knock on the door, or a little note that said, "Pardon our dust! We'll be ruining any plans you might have of spending time in your home on the weekend for the next month or so!") The man was nice enough, but he said it'll be at least another weekend of work. I don't know if I'll make it.

To top it all off, as soon as our backyard neighbors stopped the excavation of their yard, our next door neighbor decided it was time for him to bust out the ol' table saw and get some work done on the shelves he's been meaning to build. So, ten feet from the other window in Matthew's room, just as I had gotten him to sleep finally by chocking him full of calories, the buzz saw convinced Matthew that the world was out to get him today. If he wasn't sure then, I confirmed it when I gave him a small piece of homemade cornbread with dinner that he didn't like. He really, really didn't like it. Before I could get to him with the sippy cup (to wash it down) he threw up all over the table. And himself. And the floor.

So, poor Matthew has had a rough day. I'm not doing much better and so it's off to bed with me in anticipation of a rough night. Wish me luck tomorrow when the whole family is back together to experience the next installment of This Old House - Hawaiian Style.

Lost War

I can't get enough of this little boy and his cute butt. I have been chastised a few times for a previous post that also featured his yummy hind cheeks, but I just don't care what y'all think. The fact is that those are the most delicious hams in the world.

These days, I'm wondering what happened to my sweet little baby. Don't get me wrong, I love that Matthew's crawling now - soon to be walking - and becoming more independent. What I don't love is that the sweet little sleeper that I had worked so hard to create seems to be gone with the wind. In his place is a new, early-rising, nap-refusing, sometimes-a-short-napper-sometimes-a-marathon-napper, don't-try-to-pigeon-hole-me-Mom little boy. So, for the past few mornings, I've been up at 5AM with a little ball of energy who won't be calmed back to sleep.

It wouldn't be that bad except that I know that most of this is my fault. I'm usually in his room by the second cry because in my middle-of-the-night stupor I always convince myself that he's been screaming for hours and I've just heard him. During the times that I don't rush in, I get suckered into going in when I hear him use his new-found secret weapon, "Maaaama! Maaaama!". It gets me every time. Which is why he wins. He always wins.

At 5AM I am furiously thinking, "I have GOT to whip this boy into shape! I'm going to take a nap with him today so that I can do battle with him tonight." Then I don't take a nap because I am blogging or reading other people's blogs written while they should have been asleep and I say, "I am going to bed immediately after he does tonight so that I will be well-rested to deal with all of his early-morning shinanigans." And then my friend calls at 9PM - the first adult I've spoken to all day - and I chat for an hour.

And then 5AM comes and I realize that even if I win a battle or two, the war is his. I will never be able to turn away from his cries for comfort, or stay angry at him when he looks up at me with his black eyes. So, I called my own mother this morning and got a little verbal TLC, had a cup of coffee, and went to the beach.

Kokua Festival

Last night, I capped off a week of Mama's Nights Out with the annual Kokua Fest. This festival was started by Jack Johnson and his wife Kim to increase awareness of issues of sustainability and to raise money for their foundation which teaches Hawaiian school children about environmental issues. I was just there for the music.This year, Dave Matthews played for his first Hawaii appearance and his first time playing with Jack Johnson. I'm not a huge Dave fan, but he's from Charlottesville, VA and went to the University of Virginia (my alma mater) so I feel like we're connected. He and Jack closed the concert with a rendition of "A Pirate Looks at Forty" by Jimmy Buffet, a native Mobilian. That alone was worth the price of admission.Winning the award for weirdest thing to happen that night was my run-in with a former high school classmate of mine. I was just hanging out when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a profile that I knew was a guy that I went to school with long ago. Unfortunately, I couldn't remember anything about him. When I finally mustered up the courage to go ask if he knew me too, he said, "Hey Sarah." How did he do that? It's especially weird given that I have not laid eyes on him in over 13 years. I even tried in vain to find him in my yearbooks. But there, in the dark, in a festival of many thousands of people, there he was. Weird.My friends Tricia and Morgan got me a ticket again this year and made some kick-ass food to share. I left the ball and chain at home (Jeff said, "Dave Matthews sucks" which won him yet another night home with baby) so that could let my hair down. Mostly, I just sat on the blanket and ate all of my friends' food while everyone else stood up because I'm too old to pay a lot of money to stand up and listen to music. I can do that at home. Then the moon rose over Diamond Head and made it all alright. Next year, I'm going to sit outside the amphitheater and enjoy the music for free, I think. That way I will reduce my money-wasting, reuse the music drifting over the walls, and recycle the memories I have of this year's festival. I'm an eco-genius.

Baby Pool

Fatherly Love

Jeff is the greatest father ever - and the funniest husband a girl could have. The other day, he said, "What's wrong, Matthew? Are you sad because we're not playing Smokey & The Bandit?!" All of a sudden, Jeff was sitting on the rolling office chair with Matthew in his lap rolling furiously throughout the house shouting things like, "This is a dead end! They're after us - we gotta get outta here!"

They say that fatherly love is different than motherly love. I never really believed that until now. The things that Jeff thinks to do with Matthew are totally different than anything I would have ever dreamed. Today, I walked in to the living room where Matthew and Jeff had been playing and I found Matthew wearing his father's IronMan wristwatch and gnawing on a book of Jeff's deposit slips. Oh, and Jeff had also changed the music from happy baby songs to the theme from Magnum P.I. Matthew was having a blast, so I think I need to take notes on how Jeff interacts with him.

For instance, Jeff likes to since a song to Matthew when I have reached the level of frustration with Matthew's behavior. (Usually this happens toward the end of the day when Matthew and I are both happy to see Papa coming up the walk.) The song goes like this:

Good Ol' Boy
(Sung to tune of the Dukes of Hazzard theme song)

Makin' his way
The only way he knows how
That's just a little bit more
Than his mom will allow

Just a good ol' boy
Never meaning no harm
Been in trouble with his mom
Since the day he was born

Taj Mahal

Last night, we went to see Taj Mahal with our friends Tricia and Morgan. They were planning to go, but then Morgan won two EXTRA tickets so they let us tag along. The awesome part is that our buddy Connie was already planning to babysit (as she does most every Friday) so we were able to take our buddies up on their last minute invite. We were thrilled because until I received Tricia's call on Friday morning, our night was shaping up to include sitting in our car in the driveway trying to decide what to do.Instead, we got to throw back a few beers and do silly dances to good music like the adults we are. It was a cool Hawaiian night, with just a misting of rain to keep the skin moist. A couple of good blues bands opened for Taj (how Tricia and Morgan so intimately refer to him) and then there was an auction of a couple of signed guitars for the Hawaii Youth Music Program. Wait, no the auction was for the Young Lifeguards Organization. What?! I was so amazed that such a great performer wouldn't be raising money for the already skin-and-bones music program in public schools. Maybe one of his buddies made him do it, or maybe he was once rescued by a young lifeguard. I don't know but one of the guitars went for $2600. We didn't win.

Sneak Attack

Now that Matthew can move, he certainly gets himself into some funny predicaments. When I came back into the nursery this evening, he was sneaking up on the bee from underneath the futon. I'm pretty sure the bee wouldn't have seen him coming, but then I walked in and ruined the whole thing.

Farmers' Market

Today Matthew and I went to the Farmers' Market on the backside of Diamond Head. It was a beautiful day and Matthew woke up early to enjoy it all. (We're in the process of phasing out his nighttime feed, which is fine with him as long as he can still be awake to complain about it.) I was looking forward to the freshly roasted coffee at the market, and Matthew was looking forward to eating the mango/tofu/rice mixture that I brought for his breakfast. (It's his favorite after bananas. He'll eat anything with bananas in it. I gave him peas and bananas the other day and I thought he was going to lick the bowl.)

Unfortunately, in my haste to get to the coffee, I forgot to stop and get cash, so no market purchases for us. Instead, we sat under a nice shady tree and watched all the people going to the market. Matthew showed off his new teeth and I tried to telepath my desperate need for coffee to one of the passers by in hopes that the would return with an extra cup, or at least trip over something and hurl some of their coffee in my direction. It was not to be. No matter, I got some great shots of the big little one and chatted with a nice couple whose daughter is only a month younger than Matthew. Her name is Opal. How sweet is that?

Big Boy Bath

In the last week, Matthew has moved from the kitchen sink to the big boy bathtub. It was getting ridiculous to wash our 30+ inch tall baby in the portable baby bathtub, even though we were using it on the setting labeled toddler. Oh well. Now Matthew is happy to bathe with the big kids (the frogs) and enjoy the pleasures of the faucet. (He loves to stick his face right in the running water. Silly boy.)
Once we've finished with another bath, it's time to get cozy. Matthew's size has also forced us to pull out the big boy towel, but we're not bothered. Every night, when he's snuggled into my arms, drowned in terrycloth and kisses, I'm convinced that he's the best baby that ever lived. The I hand him off to Papa who closes the deal with book-reading and milk-drinking. What a good life.

April Fools

For the first time in a long time, I participated in the wonderful tradition of April Fools' Day. I don't espouse hurtful or scary jokes. Instead I prefer things that are funny, outlandish, or disgusting - but that don't hurt any one's feelings or put them at risk for a heart attack. My family has a long history of putting one over on people on the first of April, like the time my mother and I told my grandmother that I had flown over downtown in a helicopter when I was 7 or so. Then there was the time that I told my high school classmates that there was an emu living under our house. Very funny.

Today, Jeff got it all started by scaring the crap out of me at 1 in the morning. Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen, but it did and I couldn't go back to sleep for quite a while. Later in the morning, he called to say that he had undergone emergency surgery at the dentist. I knew he had gone to the dentist and he sounded like half of his face was numb, so I was totally hooked, but the way he was talking made it impossible for me not to laugh. I was thankful in the end that he admitted it was a joke because otherwise I was laughing heartily at my poor, toothless husband. I'm a horrible wife.

This afternoon, I found out that our 80-plus year old neighbor had also played a prank on me. Her grandson knocked on the door and said, "Did someone steal your trashcan?" I looked around the yard and said, "Yes. It looks like someone has stolen our trashcan. Did they get yours, too?" To which he replied, "No. I think my grandmother stole your trash can. Can you come identify it?" Apparently, little Amy had willfully apprehended our trashcan and passed it off as her own. Unfortunately, I hadn't taken the trash out yet, so I didn't get to experience the confusion and realization that we had been robbed, but it was still a good effort.

Now for the real fun. I had to get Jeff back for his earlier April Fools' effort, and it took me quite a while to think of something I thought would work. When I did, I spent the whole day laughing about it, so I'm glad it actually went the way that I had planned. I was playing with Matthew in the living room tonight and Jeff was in the kitchen. When Jeff walked into the room, I noticed a funny smell and assumed that Matthew had pooped in his diaper. So I said, "Matthew, honey, it smells like you need a diaper change." I opened up his diaper to check for poop and there was, indeed, a long chord of darkness. Just to make sure it was really poop, I picked it up and took a bite -at which point I collapsed into giggles as Jeff's face registered complete disgust and disbelief. I took him a few seconds to figure out that I had placed a piece of beef jerky just inside Matthew's diaper before he walked in!