Photographic Evidence

A Letter to My Cars

Dearest Honda and Sweet Prius,

I have a confession to make. After years of being faithful to you, I've found someone new. I am infatuated with Matt's Subaru Impreza STi. In fact, though it may be too soon to tell, I think I'm in love. I can't be with the STi forever - it would never work (since I'm only borrowing it) - so I plan on staying with you for the family. But from now on, every time I drive you, I won't be able to help thinking about the Subaru. I'm so sorry.

I don't know if it's the snazzy blue color that I can't seem to stay away from (like my brother's Audi S4) or the fact that it has a 6 gear manual transmission, Brembo brakes, firm suspension, and more than 300 hp, but something about it just makes me shiver.

I know that I'm right now addicted to the excitement of the speed and acceleration and that one day I would miss your warm, safe embrace of familiarity, but I will never feel the same way about you again. Honda, you have always been there for me, no matter what. You have been a welcome dose of normalcy through turbulent years of change. Prius, you are at once quirky and sensible, and your oddness is endearing. I will always hold a special place in my heart for everything you stand for and all you represent.

But neither of you are fast enough for me. Neither of you has suede racing seats. Neither of you have a throaty exhaust that tickles my ears as I accelerate away from stop lights. I can't count on you for the thrills I desperately need in my increasingly routine life.

I love you both and always will, though you're more like cherished friends after so many years. I finally have they keys to a car that makes me feel sexy. I want to get dressed up to drive the STi. It's just hotter than you... and I'm so sorry.

Sincerely,
Melissa

Back in Action

So we're home from what was an incredible visit to Colorado (hence the huge lapse in posts!) and these are a few of my favorite pictures from the trip. My brother and I together took over 600 pictures, so there are way too many to post here, but some 50 of them are going to end up on the baby website by the end of the day if you'd like to go check that out...

If you don't have the username and password, shoot me an email and I'll hook you up. They're cute pictures.

Later on, after I've finished uploading all the pictures to the baby page and updating that, I'll spend more time on this blog. I've got LOTS of catching up to do today around the house and whatnot, but things will settle down!

It's good to be home, but we miss family already!

Snail Storm

It "snailed" today. I don't know if it was really small hail where there was so much that it accumulated to 3 inches deep or if it was really big snow... either way, it was accompanied by thunder and lightning and it made me feel like I was dying of hypothermia.

That's right, I'm in Colorado... they have "winter" here, even in the spring. Probably should have brought a pair of shoes other than flip-flops.

It's supposed to stop shitting around and actually snow tomorrow - I'm so excited for Jack to play in it!

F*uck That!

Jack said "Fuck that" in the tub yesterday. Not really, but it sounded like it. He was making an "fffffffffffffffffffffffffff" sound because I had just rinsed his hair and he was clearing the water from his lips when I handed him a boat. (We've been working on throwing a ball, so when he does, usually he'll chuck it and then point at the ball and say, "uuuka AT!" which seems to mean "look at that"...) Well he took the boat from me and threw it into the water and and interrupted his "ffffffffff" with "Uuuuka AT!" Together it sounded very close to "ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffuck dat". It wasn't, but it made me roll on the floor laughing. Especially since he did it as he was throwing the obviously unawesome boat down.

Why not skip "Mama" and "Dada" and the ol' standards of baby talking? Why not move right into swearing? And why not start with the Granddaddy of swear words? Atta boy!

Tumbling... (albeit, the wrong one...)

So, I have to say, it's taken me awhile to distill our first tumbling experience, regardless of the issues with it being the wrong class. Jack really loved it. He was soooo energetic and was running around waving his arms in the air giggling like a mad man and bouncing off mats and boinging around and playing with the little girls like they were best buddies and he tried so hard to do the stuff they were doing - he tried the balance beam and made it about 3 feet on the low one with me holding his hands and when he did something right he'd give us the hugest grin like, "See? I'm such a big boy and you love me!"

I about broke down a few times just watching him race around... the feelings I had were totally indescribable... I wanted so much for you to see him and I wanted to squeeze him so hard and I was so proud of him for coming so far and absolutely astounded that just a year ago he was a tiny, tiny infant who could barely hold his head up for 3 seconds. Incredible. I really, for the first time, understand how it can seem like you blink and they're grown... for the last year, since it's been so grueling and we've trudged through a lot of difficulty, he and I, with the sleeping and eating and kidney issues, it's seemed like the days dragged on and that he was going to be an infant forever and it seemed like time was just sluggish, as if we were proceeding through syrup. But today I realized that he's not an infant. Far from it. He's Jack. A little kid. A little PERSON. Holy shit, where did that come from?! The past year was all a blink, just like people said it would be, because today, when I saw him running around and didn't even know how we got there. And what's worse is knowing that feeling of time slipping away now too fast is not going to go away, ever, and that we'll constantly be fighting to stay right where we are, to dig our heels in and not move on and relish the moment before it, too, fades away.

I guess it isn't about the class itself, necessarily, it was the setting, and more than that, it was Jack... it was Jack showing me that he's so much more than a tiny little empty slate baby. I love him so much it's overpowering. Wow, motherhood. That saggy butt doesn't seem so important right now.

Well...

Hahaha, well apparently going to the gym with Jack is way easier in theory than in practice. We went yesterday and I was on a bike for 5 minutes before they came and got me, saying, "We're so sorry, but he just won't stop crying." So I went in and sat with him for about 15 minutes until he started to calm down and play with the other kids so I snuck out and got on an elliptical for 15 minutes. I went to check on him before I moved to abs and stretches and saw him clinging to one of the tot drop staff for dear life crying his fool head off again. So I went in and rescued the poor staff and decided he'd had all he could take for one day and we headed home.

I think he'll warm up to it soon enough, but it was the first time I'd ever left him with total strangers, and outside of my house, at that. If it were a stranger at my house or someone familiar at the gym, it wouldn't have been so traumatic. But we'll keep trying!

The good news is: I didn't see that awesome person I'd been hoping to avoid!

Today we tried tumbling, which is a Mommy & Me-type class that is mostly playing around on gymnastics mats. Well, I called yesterday to confirm the time and they told me to be there at 9:30.

We rolled in there and realized we were there with a bunch of little (but older) girls in leotards.
"Hmmmmmm....." said My Brain, "This looks weird... and where's Misty and Jack? I thought they were coming...." Well, My Brain doesn't usually work very well, so I overruled it and we started doing the class which Jack LOVED at first - running in circles and stretching and bouncing and music and just loads of good times that had him screaming and squealing and laughing his head off. Then they moved into such things as: Forward Hand Springs and Swinging On The Loops and Walking Along the Parallel Bars. "Erm," My Brain said again, "This can't be right. There's no way a kid under 2 could do this stuff." So one of the Moms suggested to me that I try the next 45-minute class for the younger kids... "You know," said the Mom, "with a ball pit and Ring Around the Rosey..." "Ah, ha! You dummy! I told you this was wrong!" My Brain cried triumphantly. So I just played it cool and said out loud, "You know, this might be a little advanced after all. I will try the next one." Later the instructor told me in as many words that I'm an idiot and shouldn't have brought Jack to something to intense and the next class would be far more appropriate. No kidding, buddy! It was YOUR staff that told me to show up for this one in the first place!

Next thing I know, Misty and Jeremy and Jack (their Jack; the original Jack) showed up, all smiles, ready to do their non-hardcore gymnastics fun. Meanwhile, my little Jack is literally RUNNING out the door with his shoes in his hand like, "Mommy, lets get the HELL out of this crazy place! I'm no gymnast and I'm exhausted from even trying the activities!" Needless to say, I was enthusiastic to follow him out the door and leave my embarrassment behind.

I remember in college on the first day of classes that horrible feeling when you realize you're sitting in a lecture hall in the first row of a class you aren't signed up for... You want to play it cool because you'd rather leave at the end of the lecture with everyone else and just not show up again the next day than stand up and have everyone watch you walk out like an ass. But then the professor starts asking questions in Russian and expects you to respond in kind, especially since you're sitting in the front row and you look twice as dumb because now everyone knows you were just trying to stay to look not-lame... That's how I felt today. AWESOME.

But, like the tot drop, we will go again, but next week it'll be from 10:30 to 11:15 and there will be no Back Tucks or Balance Beam Course for my poor 13 month old toddler to endure. I mean, I can't even change the kid's diaper without him screaming and they're saying "It's time to Log Roll down this wedge!" Oh man, My Brain is lots smarter sometimes than I give her credit for, and I should listen more often.

Meanwhile, off to go do some sit-ups since we're not going to brave the gym again this afternoon.