My New Diet & Exercise Regimen

I've been wondering just how & when I might lose that last 5-8 pounds of 'pregnancy' weight. Today -- my first whole day taking care of both Django & Max -- I started to figure it out. If it hadn't been for the unexpected free lunch in the middle of today, I might already be a little lighter. See for yourself

5:30a Out of bed. Mind racing. Shower. Do chores. Begin packing bags and organizing for the day.

6:30a Eat one slice of cold pizza. Wrap the other for lunch ‘out’ with the boys.

6:45a Realize there probably will not be a way to get hands free long enough to have any lunch ‘out’ with the boys. Eat second piece of cold pizza. Start water boiling for coffee.

6:50a Pour first of coffee water through drip filter. Go back to packing/organizing.

7:15a Remember coffee-in-progress as baby wakes up. Pour more hot water through filter. Change, dress, feed baby.

7:45a Head out the door. Remember coffee again. Pour into to-go mug without cream & sugar. No time for that.

8a Meet Tedra & Max at school. Collect Max’s bags and carseat. Chat about logistics. Decide it actually makes more sense to bring the boys back home for a few hours.

8:45a Play and snack at home. Eat only the cantaloupe or cheese bits that fall out of a baby’s mouth and are too full of rabbit hair to put back.

9:10a Change two poopy diapers in a row.

9:20a Attempt to quell babies’ fussiness by dancing & singing with one boy in each arm.

9:30a Take each boy up & down the stairs, twice, still trying to find a happy place.

9:45a Give up. Decide to go for a walk. Get sweaty just trying to get the boys in the double stroller and out the door. Walk.

10:05a Both boys finally asleep in the stroller. Recline their seats. Vow to walk for as long as they’ll sleep.

11a Both boys wake up. Rush home for another snack. Bite into any blueberries that seem suspiciously hard or soft, before squishing and feeding to the babies. Eat only what’s too unripe or rotten for them.

11:30a Notice the time. Rush to get out the door to meet Tedra.

11:45a Open refrigerator to get bag with food for the boys. Considering chugging that last beer of the 6-pack. Regain sanity. Opt for bringing along room-temperature, half-bottle of Coke that Bubba Mike & Charly didn’t drink while childproofing up a beautiful storm here this weekend. [More on that in another post.] Reconsider the Coke idea when a baby rolls it down the stairs. No time to fetch.

11:50a Get extremely sweaty again, trying to get everyone and everything in the car.

12:10p Get invited to stay for free, catered lunch with Tedra and the other teachers. Hallelujah. Intend to eat 4 giant pieces of lasagna and half a loaf of garlic bread. Manage to eat one piece of each while offering Django crust, vegetables and noodles from the plate. Enjoy watching Tedra do the same with Max.

1p Fully appreciate Tedra’s help wrangling the boys into the double stroller. Head out for neighborhood playgroup.

1:20p Get extremely sweaty again, getting the boys out of the stroller and their extra layers of clothing and into each arm. Realize a free hand in needed to open the playroom door. Kneel, placing boys’ feet on the ground, open door and waddle in to the room, much to the amusement of all the other moms/nannies.

1:25p Notice a baby needs a diaper change. Change the diaper. Regret it for the next 15 minutes as baby does not recover from the event.

1:40p Give up on playgroup. Get extremely sweaty again getting boys back into outerware and stroller. Walk.

2p Return to site for playgroup, thinking to try again. Notice both boys are asleep. Go back to walking.

2:30p Attempt to meet another mom for coffee near school. Sit at an outside table with the boys still in the stroller. Boys wake up. Start another snack. Belatedly get the message the other mom won’t be arriving for 30 minutes. Consider paying another customer to fetch coffee.

2:40p Check the time over and over. Wonder if 3p will ever come.

2:50p Give up. Go to playground behind school. Chase boys around, attempting to keep all seed pods, coins, bird shit and glass shards out of their mouths.

3p Feel greatly relieved when other mom shows up. Call Tedra. Find out training isn’t over till 3:30p. Chase boys around some more.

3:10p Feel overjoyed when Tedra ditches the end of training. Hang out on the playground all together, laughing about the afternoon.

3:45p Finally have coffee with other mom. Walk some more, but with just Django strapped on.

5:15p Arrive home. Love on Django. Start chores.

6:15p Feed Django dinner. Finally drink that last beer. Continue chores.

7p Give Django a bath. Read him a story. Dance with him for a few songs.

7:50p Lay down with Django to help him fall asleep. Consider staying there.

8:15p Start writing this.

8:45p Remember I need dinner. Fix some gnocci.

9p Leave gnocci to go downstairs because Django wakes up crying and needs some coaxing back to sleep.

9:15p Eat the rest of the now lukewarm gnocci.

9:50p Wish there was lots more beer. Remember that the alram is regularly set for 4:45a, now that work has started again. Take back that wish. Opt for mint tea, instead.

Rabbits Beware

Now that Django is on the move, the rabbits have a hard time finding any peace -- especially at mealtime. Nothing quite like a poke in the eye while you're eating, eh?

Further Mysteries

It’s beginning to seem to me truly remarkable that so many of us humans actually make it to adulthood. Born as helpless as we are, and yet so determinedly attracted to danger. If there was a God involved in this game plan, I get the feeling he was drunk at a frat party when he and his buddies thought it up.

GOD: OK, ok. I got it. Let’s have ‘em be stuck on their backs like little bugs for most of the first year. They’ll wiggle and flail and scream but not be able to get anywhere. The sabre-toothed tigers will love that!

BUDDY #1: Dude. Great idea. But we should let ‘em move a little, don’t you think? Roll, maybe. Scoot. That’d be w-a-y more fun to watch. Especially if they still don’t know how to work their arms and legs.

BUDDY #2: Wait, are we giving ‘em teeth, so they can at least bite back?

BUDDY #3: Nah. They can pinch. And they’ve got their own claws, I mean nails.

BUDDY #4: I say give ‘em little teeth, at least.

GOD: Alright, yeah, let’s give ‘em a few. Why not?

BUDDY #5: Right on. But get this, how about they pinch and claw and have a few teeth and all, but when they move make ‘em want to move toward crazy stuff. Like arrowheads. Or fire.

BUDDY #6: And cliffs. Ponds, even. That’d be awesome!

GOD: I’m down with that. Yo, pass the hooka.

That’s the scene that flashed in my mind, anyway, as Rebecca responded to my tale of Django launching himself over the edge of the kitchen table, head first, tumbling nearly 3 feet to the linoleum floor, with something like: “Don’t they have little instincts that kick in before they go through with a stunt like that?” Um…yeah, apparently, no.

So Django started pulling up a month ago, cruising furniture shortly after that, and most recently he’s gotten the hang of crawling. Me, I’m wondering if it’s possible to childproof myself with psychopharmaceuticals. Bubba Mike (aka MDN) says he’d just strap the boy to the couch with a helmet on for the duration of his formative years. I find myself tempted. Seriously tempted.

But I’m also ferociously bittersweet about these developmental leaps and bounds. It’s tearing me apart. These days I think I cry way more than Django does. I get weepy dancing him to sleep at naptime. I burst into waterworks when I hear him giggle too many times in a row. I tear-up when he starts his comedy routine in the carseat or the playpen. In other words, he’s doing just fine. But,clearly, I’m a mess

p.s. Turns out baby teeth-stumps are nearly impossible to photograph -- or Django's are anyway. But if you look closely in this one, you can see his first two on the bottom there. They're coming in crooked, which makes them even cuter, really, but also means I've had to start saving for braces already.

The B-Sides

I do fully intend to write a new blog post all about what’s been going on over here lately – namely, a lot of chewing, cruising, cussing and childproofing. But I was just going through the recent photos laughing at the ones I planned NOT to use when I had an idea. Why not show you the B-sides first?

So here they are.

If he were to caption them, I think they might read something like this:

Track 1: “Do I seem amused or enthused about this idea?" (I fear Django may have learned this look of staunch disapproval from the rabbits. For more about rabbits and disapproval click here)

Track 2: “Ooh, that Baby Orajel is making me feel a little funny.”

Track 3: “Homemade beets & broccoli mix…again. Just thinking about it makes me feel like spitting up.”

Track 4: “You’re kidding, this was the toothbrush you used to clean the toilet. Are you sure?”

FRT Part #4.5: Second-Cousin Tyler

Django & I also got to meet Cousin Steve & Michelle's little fella, Second Cousin Tyler this trip... He’s a Big Boy compared to Django, 14 mos. now, walking and everything! I think Django was secretly taking lessons from him, especially in how to crush aluminum cans. Very manly, and very useful, all at the same time.

FRT Part #4: Aunt Jenny's Club

We got treated to a different sort of luxury when we returned to the Central Coast for the second portion of our visit there. Of course we had the usual 4-star meals and movies with Nana – oh, and an oil change! But we also got to tag along with Aunt Jenny & the Kautz Cousins at the Avila Bay Athletic Club where they are members and take their summer swim lessons.

It’s a spacious sort of complex with a gym, group classes, babysitting services, tennis courts, a restaurant, 2 pools, 2 jacuzzis, ping-pong tables, and who knows what else, nestled right near Avila Beach. Django & I both had so much fun watching the Cousins frolic playfully in the water and the sunshine. And I, personally, enjoyed swimming – so to speak – in Aunt Jenny’s wake. I really and truly cannot, even in my wildest dreams, imagine being able to care for four kids (even though 15 yr-old Cousin Marin is now quite good at taking care of herself, whether at home for the summer or away at Cate, her boarding high school in Carpinteria.) Aunt Jenny takes it all in stride. I was so relieved to just become one more extra big kid in her family, relying on her to order lunch for me, and to make sure we had enough towels, and a nice place to sit. She always tried to make it hard for me to leave the area. She usually succeeds.

FRT Part #3: Our Hollywood Selves

Okay, technically Uncle Jon (on the right) & Tad (on the left) live in Los Feliz (pronounced Las Feel-iz, for those not familiar with the white-Californian propensity to bastardize the Spanish language) but it might as well be Mann’s Chinese Theater as far as Django & I are concerned. It’s filled with stars, and movie-like sets, and it makes you want to put your hand in some wet cement nearby, just to prove you were there.

The house is gorgeous, and designed/decorated in a style about as far as you can get from plastic-baby-toy-strewn-chic. There are lots of smooth concrete surfaces, precious wood & ceramic furnishings, and fine art on the walls. Our room there, like pretty much every other one, had its own volume control for the satellite radio system, recessed lighting on a dimmer switch, and view of lush greenery from a wall of high windows.

The day we arrived was the day of a big pool party. A fundraiser for the LA Gay & Lesbian’s Senior & Youth Programs. So the place quickly became filled, and I mean filled, entirely with beautiful and/or rich gay boys. I can’t say Django & I were the center of attention, but we were conspicuous to be sure. We spent the afternoon splashing in the saltwater pool (Django’s first swim in a pool,) drinking margaritas served by the Tonight Show’s bartender, eating tacos freshly grilled by the catering crew of a delicious local tacqueria, and chatting with the likes of Cameron Diaz’ personal trainer and the sound designer for Battlestar Galactica.

Ahhh, the life.