Apples, Brats, and Coach Purses

They say "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" and there are days when that thought scares me just a tad bit.

This morning, as I was strapping Ethan in his carseat to go to "school", he pointed at the brand new portrable dvd player (that mommy and daddy got him for his 1st birthday) hanging in front of his seat and started to whine.

Me: No whining please, Ethan.
Ethan: [still pointing] didida dadi
Me: Do you want to watch a video?
Ethan: [the whining gets louder] didi!
Me: I will turn it on in a sec...
Ethan: [starts screaming] mumma deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!
Me: [scrambling to get the straps buckled] Okay! Okay! I'm turning it on! Don't be such a brat....

And as I drove to work, listening to Barney sing about manners for the hundredth time, I realized that we've been calling him a "brat" a lot lately. 100 pieces of new clothes for Christmas.... brat. New toys to clutter the living room..... brat. Portable DVD player and new DVDs to watch.... brat. I couldn't help but wonder if calling him that (even though it's only playfully) can have a negative connotation. It's not his fault we're buying him all these things... so why should he be subject to the name calling?

I, on the other hand, have a $300 coach purse sitting in the closet that hasn't even seen the light of day. It was a Christmas present from Mike, and although I love him for the thought (especially after he SWORE that he'd never spend that much money on a purse even on my deathbed), I've been trying to get him to return it or exchange for a different purse. Did I need it? Surely not. Would I have paid as much as he did for one? Hell no. Did I want one? Of course... I just want a different style. Waaaaaaa Waaaaaaaa Waaaaaa

***Brat radar going off***

I really want Ethan to grow up to be someone who doesn't feel fulfilled by stuff, who doesn't buy into the get-it-now society that constantly bombards us. I want him to live free of the pressure to be like the "cool" kids and always have the latest toys and games, to know that his real worth comes from who he is and how he treats other people. As an adult, I want him to be responsible with money and free from excessive debt. I want him to know the different between wants and needs...

But how do I teach him that while I complain about a Coach purse that I refuse to use because I WANT another purse with a different strap? I know... how about I convince Mike to return the purse and spend the money on something we really NEED... like a cleaning lady?

Doh! Don't get me started on that one....

Wake Up, Charleston!

Something really cool - that made me feel excited and nostalgic at the same time - happened on my way to work this morning... I got a call from the local radio station letting me know that they would like me and Mike to be guest DJs in their morning show this coming Friday. Of course, we had to take a rain check since Mike's out of town (although I did selfishly consider for a slight second about doing it solo, hehe). So they re-scheduled it to the 16th... so in a couple of weeks, the wrath of the "Anci and Mikic" show will be broadcasted in the Charleston metro.

I'm sure it'll be a lot different from our radio show when we were in Bosnia... but how freaken cool that we get to be on the air TOGETHER again???

Surviving the Rat Trap

What do you get when you combine a pair of overly excited rookie parents and a giant dancing beanie-baby-looking-rat? You get an overstimulated, ruffled up 1-year-old birthday boy. As soon as I walked past the stamp lady and saw the enormous mass of kids running around with tickets on their hands and parents irately yelling "It's time to go... NOW!", I seriously started to develop a migraine.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Before that, I took Ethan to the museum and let him run around their "Kid Space" where he enjoyed crawling in tunnels and diving down the slide head-first. He wasn't too keen on the ball pit though. I guess for a one year old, a 14x14 box full of balls can be a little bit scary--- there's balls flying over your head, not to mention you can't see the floor which could give you the notion that if you don't hold on to mommy... the balls will eat you up and you'll be dragged down to the black hole of balls and never come back. Poor Ethan.

After that, Mike met up with us and we collectively decided it would be a fun idea to introduce Ethan to Mr. Cheese (for some reason, I feel weird calling him Chuck..... and is "E" supposed to be his middle initial? I wonder if it stands for Edgar.) If you have never been to Chuck E Cheese, here's the most refined description I could find -- Imagine feeding 1,000 kids a pound of sugar each, a six-pack of coke, and an injection of high grade chocolate. Then, imagine releasing these kids all at once into a tightly-confined maze full of bright, flashing lights and ear-drum shattering noises from which there is no escape. Imagine these kids running from one source of light or noise to another at break neck speed while screaming at the top of their lungs... trampling anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way. Well, if you can imagine that, then multiple that image by a hundred and you get a sense of what it was like for us... On top of that, imagine being there on a Saturday night. What were we thinking????

It took us at least 20 minutes to even find an empty table. But I had no shame in standing next to a family who looked like they were about to leave anyway (you could tell because the dad looked extremely irritated and looked like he was about to lose it. I think the beer didn't help much). I looked around and saw that there were about 5 other moms trying to claim the same spot short of licking the table, but I wasn't about to back down. As soon as the dad stood up, I made eye contact and signalled "Are you leaving?" and when he nodded, I swooped right in. In that environment, I learned very quickly that you won't get anywhere if you're anything less than invasive. And ordering food? Forget about being nice! Whoever got the brilliant idea to have ONE register to ring up the food AND the tokens should be fed to wild bears. If you want to eat, you have to fight with parents who are 2 seconds from going postal if they don't get those tokens to their deliriously screaming kids. By the time I got to the counter, the poor cashier was already in tears. I tried to be as uncomplicated as I could, but with Ethan trying to grab everything on the counter, it was kinda hard to do.

While we waited for what seemed like 3 hours to get our grease-filled pizza, Ethan had a blast on every single ride in the "Toddler" section... particularly the Barney truck which he decided would be fun to ride 5 times in a row. I emphasize "Toddler" because there were times that I got annoyed at some kids who clearly were older than the toddler category, yet they continued to hog the slide and pushed the smaller kids aside. Where are their parents anyway? Probably in some corner, trying to suck down another glass of cold beer. Luckily, Ethan just either waited for his turn or played with something else.

As chaotic as it was...... surprisingly, Ethan didn't look a least bit freaked out. In fact, there were 5 birthday parties going on that night and as soon as they started to sing the birthday song, Ethan stopped in his tracks and started clapping along as if they were singing for him! He does this dance, too, where he bends his knees and sticks his butt out like he's grinding -- VERY funny to watch.

Overall, his birthday weekend went great (hopefully, we didn't traumatize him too bad). We went back to the museum the next day so Mike could enjoy it with Ethan for a bit, but the museum closed early due to "inclement weather" -- which really just meant, it's starting to snow a little bit so let's call it a day, go home and watch the football game.

In a Heartbeat....

.... my baby grew from this, 7 lbs and 19.5 inches long....



.... to this, 24 lbs and 30 inches tall.



I'm not really sure whether to be happy or to be sad. I mean, it's not like I didn't expect him to grow up at all.... I guess I just didn't expect it to happen so fast. They do say "Happy" Birthday and not "Sad" Birthday, so I should perhaps just discard the latter idea altogether. Maybe after all the tears stop...

I AM happy. It's a kind of joy that millions of other people have attempted to write about, but I think have failed to convey... because I think it's a feeling that you have to experience for yourself before you can completely understand. Mostly, I just feel relieved that we've actually survived the first year.

Imagine that --

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABY ETHAN

Yummmmmmm

Realizing I'm running out of time in getting Ethan's invitations out (his party is supposed to be in a little over a week)... we took him to Picture People to have a first birthday photo taken. I figured, it's free, why not. Although it didn't turn out bad, I wasn't happy. So I set up my little makeshift studio this evening, gave Ethan a cupcake and let him have at it.

Turns out... my baby boy (turning man) loves them cupcakes.....

PS. I haven't decided on the final invitation. I hope to have it done and printed tomorrow and mailed by Friday. *sigh*

Muscles, we meet again.

Has it trully been that long? I got pregnant in April of 2005, gave birth in January 2006 and Ethan will be a year old in three days. From the day I found out we were going to have a baby, I renounced any form of exercise with flying colors. So yeah, it really has been that long. No wonder my muscles are screaming for pain... they're being re-introduced to exertion all over again (which I shamingly admit, has been long overdue).

Getting to the gym was half the battle. For months, Mike tried to convince me to "check out" the local YMCA.

Mike: Hey baby, I got us some guest passes to the "Y", we should go sometime.
Me: Are you saying I'm a fat ass and I need to go to the gym?
Mike: Scurries away to avoid confrontation and learns that suggesting a workout after I had just devoured a row of Oreos probably isn't a good idea.

My strategy to elude the notion of putting myself to work worked for a while... until one weekend when I was cleaning out my closet and realized I had to pack away more "skinny" clothes than I anticipated. Normally, I would just brush it off and use it as an excuse to shop for new clothes that "fit"... but instead I felt like a a total cow and exceedingly daft to be trying to fit back into a size 6 jeans and a size small shirt. Who was I kidding? That's when I decided that getting back a normal workout routine probably isn't such a bad idea after all.

So the week after, I went to the "Y" and signed up for the family package. I figured Mike and I could work out together on some days. They have a daycare that we could leave Ethan in for a couple of hours while we worked out... and when his ear gets better, we could all enjoy the family pool. Best part is that it's only about a five-minute drive from our house and they were open much later from when I would get home from work. Sounds easy enough, right? Wrong. Even after I'd already signed us up, armed with little plastic badges and all... I still managed to make excuses. One time, I actually told Mike I couldn't go because I didn't have any work out clothes!

But I did good yesterday... I actually went to a Yoga class with Mike. I'm hoping it would be a regular thing.. we're planning on doing Pilates tonight, and there is a cardio kickboxing class I want to do on Monday nights. I'm still remarkably sore from yesterday. I didn't realize Yoga would have such an impact. Of course, I didn't exactly "take it easy" as a beginner would.. I guess I felt like I had a lot of catching up to do. I know now not to do that... but I guess if it hurts, it must be working, right?

"I don't wanna grow up"

I've come to a really scary realization today... we are in dire need to seriously start saving more money. The thought of playing grownup alone is giving me a migraine, but perhaps we have crossed the threshold of carefree living-paycheck-to-paycheck years... I'm sure it's been a while, we just never wanted to accept it.

In our defense, we have done pretty good for ourselves since getting married and having a baby. We both have steady (though extremely underpaid) jobs that pay the bills, we are blessed with two sets of generous grandparents who constantly array us with clothes and toys and all the other baby necessities, we have excellent medical coverage which leaves us with very minimal (if none at all) out-of-pocket expenses when it comes to the frequent emergency room visits and long list of prescriptions...... So yes, we've been fortunate that beyond paying for our "grown up" responsibilities, we are still able to enjoy our vices --- eating out (when we're too lazy to cook), shopping splurges and even our recent vacation to the caribbeans. And just recently... a very odd purchase of colored stacking cups that we justified as "therapeutic".

Sure, we've saved before. But it was always for a short-time goal. We set aside money for the wedding. Then that was quick and done over with. Then we set aside some money for our honeymoon, which we spent every penny of it (and then charged some). But to save just because? We're working on that... my goal is to have a couple of months worth of expenses saved up, AND also save up for our first home.

Though at this point, it's premature to entertain the idea of buying a house within the next 2 years, especially if the BIG "plan" is to move back California by April of next year. If we were to stay here in West Virginia, perhaps we could afford to buy our first home even with our current deprived salaries. Where else can you find a nice 3 bedroom house with a 2-car garage and a park for a backyard for less than $100,000? But as tempting as their real-estate market is (and while this state isn't actually a bad place to raise a family), settling here just isn't part of the "plan"... whatever that is. What we ought to do is start a separate home savings account -- only to avoid potentially feeling rich enough one day to buy a new plasma screen tv... or run off to Paris for a weekend getaway.

Hmmmmm.... that really does sound good right about now.

Wedding Photos

So I've been freelancing for a while... I shot 6 weddings last year, several engagement shoots and a few baby portraits. While I'll always favor the babies, the weddings are definitely more challenging, more time-consuming, certainly more stressful.... but I do love em. I love em for the raw emotions... all the family craziness that goes on... the details... the glowing brides... the couples in-love. It sort of lets me re-live those crazy times when I planned our wedding... :)

So here are some of the shots I took over the course of last year...

New Year, New Blog

It finally feels like winter. I just peaked through my director's window and saw the snow chomping down on the streets so I immediately changed my mind about slipping out to get a cup of capuccino --- mmm, maybe when the snow dies down a bit. I can already hear my co-workers mumbling... the "California girl" doesn't want to go out because it's too cold. Uh, yeah? I think I'll stick with the vending machine's $1.25 frapuccino, thank you. It's not exactly slow around here either but I've decided to instead spend my so-called 15-minute break writing about well.... whatever I get to.

Ethan will be turning 1 in two weeks. I cringe when I think about the fact that one year ago, I was big and pregnant and miserable. Completely dense from the hormones but thoroughly excited... and more notably, bitching about how those damn coco-butter things didn't keep me from getting those horrid stretch marks. Now, I'm stressing about birthday party invitations and praying he won't get another injury report from daycare again. Still bitching about the stretch marks though... but I learned that even laser surgery can't help my cause. I just can't believe I've lived through the year. After all those times when I second-guessed myself and thought for sure that I was going to mess hiim up. But, here we are, he's still in one piece.. and a very happy boy!

It's true what they say... they do grow up fast. Just last night, he picked up one of his toy cellphones, held it against his ear and said "ahhhh?" (which I presumed was his version of "hello"). He's learned how to climb the slide on the stair part and actually go down on the slide part instead of the other way around. He waves "hi" and "bye" and he'll even give you a kiss... if he's in the mood. He'll wear you out like you've just ran a marathon without having to leave the living room, but he hasn't quite figured out that he's starting to become too tall to run under the dining room table. He gives the BIGGEST hugs and blows the sweetest raspberries at the slightest sight of uncovered skin. He's finally content now since the move to the toddler room... where he can run around freely and everyone eats the "big kids" food. He sure is a big eater... you never have a problem feeding this boy... unless he's feeling under the weather. He'll eat anything and everything, no matter how gross it tastes as long as he sees someone else eating it. At school, the teachers sometimes call him a "bully" because he just goes for what he wants even if it means pushing other babies out of the way or snatching it right out of their hands. I'm sure he doesn't mean it maliciously... but I do pride in that he's the youngest baby in there by 2 months yet he seemed like he owned the room from day 1. Downside is, being around all those kids has made him a fly trap for viruses and infections the past couple of months. He's had at least 4 ear infections (aside from the croup, Hand Foot & Mouth, and everything else!) --- ended up getting tubes put in at 11 months, which seemingly hasn't helped too much especially after getting an infection almost immediately after the surgery. He'll let you know when he's not feeling well, though most of the time, he's happy and content as can be.

He bounces when he hears music (to the rhythm too, I might add), yet he refuses to put his hands together to clap. He does like to wave them around like a monkey... He likes to laugh and giggle -- very ticklish under the feet and under his arms. He especially loves to play hide-and-seek... if you hide under the blanket and yell for help, he will come like your keenest knight in shining armor and rescue you with a big smile. He doesn't watch too much TV, but when he does he favors the Disney's Little Einsteins (or whatever football game daddy has on). He's recently been to Disneyland and met Mickey and Pluto and Goofy -- everyone else BUT Winnie the Pooh (how ironic). He's got 7 teeth so far -- 3 on top and 4 on the bottom... and he's definitely not afraid to let you know how sharp they are. He loves taking baths, sometimes he fusses about having his ear plugs put in beforehand, but after the ordeal, he gets ecstatic splashing away and drowning his rubber duckies.

I'm sure some people don't think these are big accomplishments but... I'm telling you... it was just yesterday when Mike and I were driving to the hospital and I was thinking of getting some chinese food after they tell me it's yet another false alarm. I swear it was just yesterday...