Saturday, August 30, 2008

The power of three will set you free....

When I was pregnant with Wyatt, we had many loooong name discussions. We didn't find out whether he was a boy or girl, so there were double discussions. Actually the girl name came easily, but we bickered and picked over the boy name for a while. I liked a family name on his side, he didn't like it-the other family name on his side I liked his sister had always wanted...blah blah blah. Round and round.

Then one day we were on a long car trip and out of the blue he says "What about Wyatt?" I got ready to turn my nose up and then realized....I like that! Now, Chris liked Wyatt because it sounds tough. It reminds him of Wyatt Earp and Tombstone and Deadwood and whiskey and guns and horses and all that crap. I liked Wyatt for a different reason. I spent about 2 years of my life completely obsessed with Charmed reruns. I came home every day and watched it at 5pm. I recorded them (pre DVR) on our dilapidated VCR. Chris wasn't allowed to talk or walk through the room during Charmed time. For those of you who, sadly, aren't knowledgable about the best show ever-Wyatt is the name of Piper and Leo's baby. He's the first child of a white lighter and witch and is the most powerful magical being of all times!!! How cool is that? Very. I know.

You know how fun it is to torture your spouse in those ways that only you know how to do? People will say, "Oh Wyatt, like Wyatt Earp, a cowboy!" And I reply with "AND like Wyatt from Charmed! A powerful magical being!" Meanwhile, Chris is beside me twitching as his lips thin to nothing. Yes!

Last night we were at the Friday wine tasting at Once Upon a Vine-South and a lady heard Chris call his name and said "Oh I like that name! Wyatt, right? Like the Charmed Ones!" I nodded vigorously and said "Exactly!" Oh happy day! I could feel the annoyance rolling off of Chris in waves. Hee hee!

Of course, I got mine. I was in line with a pretzel chip in my mouth and turned around to do an evil laugh in Chris' face and ended up laughing in the face of some random guy. Pretzel chip all up in my teeth. Nice. It was worth it though!

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Monday, August 25, 2008

Is it true? Do blondes have more fun?

There has been a hair evolution in our household.

Witness:

I gave birth to a dark haired, furry little munchkin baby. (The fur eventually fell off, but we memorialized it for his teenage years)

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At 6 months, he was a rotund redhead

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At one, we were heading towards a beautiful strawberry blonde...

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Now, it appears he's going to go platinum for a while. Seriously, this is the weirdest looking thing. His roots are coming in absolutely white blonde. The ends are still reddish, so its almost like he has reverse roots. Its not the summer/sun/pool thing because its growing in this light. And the ends-that should be the lightest-are the darkest.

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I can't wait to see what happens next! Stripes? Neon? Who knows? Right now I guess he'll be my little blondie bear.

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Sunday, August 24, 2008

Leave the comedy to the bears.

Reasons we lose sippy cups and constantly have to go out and buy new ones:

*They roll out of the car or under the seats where whatever is in them spoils and molds
*They get left at Mimi's or Nana's or Grumps' house. Or whoever else we visit.
*They roll under the coach and into some sort of third dimension where they become one with the cat and dog hair
*Wyatt hurls them to the bears at Maymont.


Talk about embarassing. There were probably 20 or so people standing around enjoying the bears on a Sunday morning. Suddenly something green goes whizzing past my head and I hear Chris shout out "SHIT" loud enough for all the children to hear. Yep. That's our sippy cup in the bear pit. And there go the bears after it. People are whipping out their cameras, pointing and shouting. And of course the mother next to me turns to me with a sickly sweet and concerned, yet subtly hostile, voice and says "I think you should tell somebody, I'm worried the plastic might get in their bellies and hurt them." Yeah lady. My chocolate lab has eaten MUCH worse than that and he's fine. But of course, we feel guilty. In case you don't live in Richmond, the bears at Maymont are a bit of a touchy subject.

We slowly backed away from the bear area and then got the hell out of there. Just what we need-to kill the new bears with an errant sippy cup and end up on the six o'clock news as vilified as the last dumbass parents.

And yes we DID wander around until we found someone official and alerted them to the sippy cup situation-and the fact that Chris may have scarred all the children. She assured us that much worse had happened before and the bears would be fine. Whew.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

The Divorce Cabana strikes again!

Last week we were in beautiful Oak Island, NC. It was fantastic. Unlike last year- when Wyatt just wallowed in the sand and was generally miserable and ended up with his first ear infection...and wouldn't sleep...and you get the picture. All I have to say is thank heaven for the tubes, because this year he just steadily drained a stream of goopy, snotty looking stuff from his left ear, but no fevers, no pain and no sleeplessness-GOLDEN!

He was not a fan of the sand on his feet or hands though. Luckily we had purchased some water sock thingies in anticipation of hot sand, and he wore those the whole time. The fun came when he would sit/fall on his butt and then attempt to get up without putting his hands down. Hilarious! This is the look he rocked out at the beach.
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I suppose if I had been a better mother I would have purchased these things as a matching set. As it was, I randomly grabbed whatever would fit him at Target the week before and the selection is a little slim in August. I know, he looks like Speedo threw up on him. So the above pic was taken the first day when we were very conscious of the dangers of the sun and protecting his delicate skin. Look how we progressed through the week...
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Yep. The last day he just sported the swimmie diapear and the ever present socks. Sigh. At least I started off with the best of intentions.

Speaking of sun protection...last year my mother insisted on purchasing "The Family Cabana" from the One Step Ahead catalog. Its a lovely little pop up tent for the wee ones to sit under and protect their aforementioned delicate skin. Unfortunately, once they become mobile there is no interest in sitting, period. On the one day the F.C. was erected, Wyatt enjoyed running through it three times. So I suppose it shaded him for about 1.5 seconds.

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The fun thing about the F.C. is not the set up, but the take down. To set it up you just take it out of its little case and it literally springs open. Then you simply stake it down and put the little flag on top. Things change when it's time to go home. Last year when it came in the mail we read the instructions which state very clearly that you should NEVER take the Family Cabana out in public and erect it without having practiced how to take it down. I have a feeling that type of activity could end up in assault, mayhem, and at the very least divorce.

There is a nifty little video online in which a happy mom in a skirted bathing suit and visor easily twists and folds the contraption and deftly sticks it in its bag in 20 seconds, all while on the beach in a minor windstorm. We hate that woman. If either my husband or I ever ran into her we would probably punch her right in her happy face. Last year it took us about two hours, a large string of profanity and 3 bourbon and gingers to get it back down after we erected it in the living room the night before vacation. But we finally got the hang of it.

Fast forward one year. Several times I hesitantly mentioned to Chris that we MIGHT want to review the video again before we went to the beach and got ourselves in trouble. He assured me that he remembered how to take it down and there would not be a problem. HA! As our first morning on the beach came to an end, Chris pulled up all the stakes and moved behind our group. The F.C. resisted all attempts to be contained, springing open time and time again and flying out of his hands. I tentatively approached and offered to help hold it and was told "I need you to stop watching me." I scurried back a few feet and averted my eyes as long as I could.

Meanwhile, the family next to us has turned all their chairs to the side and are literally slapping their knees and laughing hysterically as they watch Chris getting more and more pissed. To make matters worse his bathing suit is refusing to stay up and his butt crack-glistening with the sweat of hatred and righteous anger-keeps popping out to say hello and he has to put the stupid thing down-where it promptly springs open, fully assembled-to pull up his pants.

At this moment a random two year old runs down the beach and grabs up one of the stakes and begans running around our group brandishing it while his mom chases him saying "No, no no NO NO NO!" Susan, a friend of my niece's, pipes up with "Oh look, The Divorce Cabana comes with weaponry!" I take note and gather up all the stakes before Chris can see them and get any ideas. (Its not until later that the hilarity of that statment hits me) He didn't notice, however, because at this point he has hurled the F.C. with all of his strength up into the dunes, where it-of course-springs open. He then stomps up into the dunes and drags it back down onto the beach where he begins standing on it and trying to actually snap it in half as his butt crack starts creeping out again. Stupidly, I approach again and he snarls "I CAN'T EVEN F***ING BREAK THE THING!" I calmy suggest that we just fold it up and put it under all the other crap in the wagon to get it back up to the house and that idea was summarily dismissed. I crept away again and finally he forcibly bent it enough to get it into the bag where it remained the rest of the trip.

As Wyatt and I trudged up the beach for home the matriarch of the clan watching us stops me and says "Honey, your husband just made our whole day!" Great. Happy to be of service.

Overall though, it was a successful trip. Lots of good food, lots of naps and trashy novels. Erin and I found a 2 story Christmas shop in Southport. I love a Christmas shop at the beach. I don't know why, because I'm generally opposed to anything Christmasy showing its face outside of the end of November to January 1. My one exception is a beach Christmas shop. This one had lots of great nooks and crannies, but also had a very disturbing bedroom set up with The Claus'.

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Scary right?

There was also a Pirate themed night complete with temporay tattoos, plastic cutlasses, and pirate grog (pomegranate martinis) sipped from pewter pirate goblets.

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Wyatt was in bed for the last two.

Here's one normal family picture. Well, Chris and I look pretty good, Wyatt was angry. The first two were really good of him, but Chris was coughing or picking his butt or something and messed them up. So here is us happy with our unhappy child. Yay vacation!!!

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Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Wordless Wednesday

First Day at Kindercare

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I have been bad, no posts in forever. I have lots to post about. We went to the beach, yay! School starts Friday, boo! Wyatt started daycare, ouch! More to come.