double the pleasure

Quilla & Zarielle

Well, it's been 7 months since I have written anything other than a grocery list, and I make no apologies.  I am a Mother of TWO now!  I look back at some of my older posts from 2010 and giggle.  That lady had it sooooo easy!  How naive was I to think that the second time around would be easier.  pffff!  I often feel like the 15 year old girl in Spanish class raising her hand to ask "¿Puedo ir al baño?" because I now need the permission of a newborn AND toddler to go and relieve myself.
Seriously.
Yes, I CAN use the bathroom  .... as long as my entourage of 2 is agreeable.
My hat is off to Mothers everywhere.
My new daughter Zarielle is now three months old.  This seems to be the magic age where the clouds begin to part and a bit of sunshine peaks through.  At three months they seem to fuss a lot less, and they are a bit more predictable with their "schedule" in regards to feedings, naps, and bedtime.  So, there are now occasional days when I can actually get out of my PJ's because I know when the approximate "window" will be when I will have enough time to get dressed.  Hooray!
... not so fast Mama.
Getting dressed takes some serious creativity these days, and with this kind of sleep deprivation, creativity is a talent I lack.  Even if my waist, hips and feet WHERE back to normal size by now, my breasts ARE NOT and WILL NOT be "normal" again for at least another two years- if ever.  Nursing boob cleavage (which occurs in a turtle neck these days) is simply unsightly. Trying to button up a  blouse is like trying to fit two economy size bags of frozen peas from Costco that are each the size of  a fairly large cantaloupe into an eye patch. Then, I must smoosh them together and stick some boobie diapers (AKA breast pads) on top of  them for good measure.
Gnarly.
Regardless, while I may no longer be the most fashion forward gal on the block, (or in  the whole state of Texas for that matter) I DO sport a pretty big delirious smile on most days.  These two piccolo mostroni keep me on my toes, and running in circles all day long.
I welcome the residual circus.

Keeping the Flame Alive

Hello Ladies!

I've been MIA for a while. We had a new addition to our family on May 30, 2012. His name is Krosby aka. Sully and he is one perfect bundle of joy. As we all know, having a new baby certainly changes your time allowances which is why you have not heard from me in a while. Not being able to blog isn't the only activity that has been lacking around my house. My husband and I have not had much time or energy to keep up with our "special time" together (ps: "special time" is code for gettin busy). By the time we are home from work, dinner is over and dishes are done, kids are bathed, baby had been nursed and the house is quiet - we have fallen into a routine of silence. He plays on the iPad or watches ESPN while I read or we catch up on the shows we've missed all week - all in almost complete silence. We are physically and mentally exhausted. Not to mention, I still feel like a fat cow having not lost the last 20 lbs of baby weight which results in a constant internal dialog of how we are not gettin busy because he's not attracted to me because of the fat cow'itis (not the case - just my normal brand of crazy). So, yesterday we were in the shower together after the kids went to bed and I asked him what his new years resolution was. The conversation went like this:

me: what is your resolution for this year

hubby: I can't tell you

me: why not? It's not a birthday wish

hubby: it's my resolution and i don't what to say

me: (huff from me) well can i guess?

hubby: you can try

me: is it to have sex with me more often (I say from under batted eye lids)

hubby: no (with a half smile)

me: (another huff)

hubby: that would have been a good one though

me: oh yeah? (hope sprung anew)

hubby: look at it this way though...we've been testing our relationship...when we are in our eighties and you're all dried up and my junk just hangs there...I know I will be perfectly happy with you...because we actually "like" each other.

me: thanks? I'd still like more of the sex please

hubby: me too

I think you can guess what happened next. LOL :). My husband has never been what I would call romantic. His ideas on what that word means come from another galaxy. However he has always been sweet and a good friend, my best friend. He reminded me of this in our conversation and it was so unexpected that it almost confused me. It was exactly what I needed to hear though and knowing what I needed to hear even before I did is a quality that only a best friend can possess. It's a different type of romance. One that I'm glad we are grown up enough to share.

New Family Photo!
Christmas 2012

Utter Torture

A miracle happened .... And I'm not talking about the one where I conceived our second child.  No, I'm talking about the one where my 21 month old daughter finished nursing after less than 2 minutes, and then asked for her "special bed".  I would have fallen over from shock had I not been lying down.  I hugged her, told her I loved her, and then laid her down in her crib.  Quilla said "goodnight Mommy, love you" as if this was what we do every night. She is sound asleep in there now.
Hell will freeze over tonight.

So .... Yes, I am "with child" - 22 weeks to be exact. No "bun in the oven" .... This time it's a turkey.  I am due to give birth to our second precious little girl on November 22 -
Thanksgiving Day.

We finally finished the last leg of our "Texas migration" to our new home destination in Mission Texas in March.  I found out I was pregnant the day we arrived.  As I pulled in the driveway here just a few miles from the Mexican border, I thought surely this must be heaven.  Everything was so beautiful and green, and the air was saturated with the perfume of orange blossoms from the orange tree groves surrounding us.  It was gorgeous and intoxicating!   Then, just a few weeks later, I realized that this is HELL, because hell itself cannot possibly be hotter than south Texas. It has been over 100 degrees here for weeks! WITH humidity! And it doesn't cool down at night the way it does in California. I don't even remember it being this hot when I lived in Miami Beach.  I swear the pool water is warm enough to poach eggs in.

Mmmmmmm ..... Eggs.
Pregnancy cravings fully in tact.

Anyway.

With another baby due to arrive in just 18 (!) weeks, I thought it wise to start weaning Quilla, and I also started working on getting her to sleep in her own bed.  This decision was not made easily as I believe in co-sleeping and child-led weaning.  I had fully intended to nurse her  until she was at least two years old.  However, A couple weeks ago, I realized that at 20 months old she was still nursing 4 to 8 times a day, which is perfectly fine unless you also have a newborn baby that needs to nurse about 12+ times a day.  I also realized that Quilla has been a bit frustrated when nursing because of a decrease in my milk factory production.  Additionally, it has begun to feel pretty much like razor blades are slicing up the "factory outlets" as I nurse her due to all the fun sensitivities of being pregnant.  So, with a very heavy guilt-ridden heart, I began cutting back on the daytime nursing.  Cutting back in the day went easier than I had expected.  Her very busy toddler schedule and play dates with our new friends here helped tremendously.  She also recently began to sleep through the night pretty regularly, which made cutting out the 12am and 3am sessions obsolete.  After a couple weeks we were down to only nap time  and bedtime nursing...
And then Pandora's box got pried open and released into the house.
Trying to get my child to go to sleep without "boobie-time" turned her in to some sort of untamable wild animal.  No matter how much  I sang to her, rocked her, hugged & kissed her and held her, she could not be consoled.  It was awful.  We both cried.  Then I would have to nurse her anyway just to get her calmed down enough to fall asleep.  So after a few days/nights of torture, I decided that she is just not ready for this, and went back to my original plan to let her self-wean.
So, yes, it is nothing short of a miracle that my darling toddler slumbers peacefully in her crib right now after just a "sip" of milk.  I know that she understands that  the milk is "all-gone"' (until November)  and soon she will stop nursing all together.  It will be bittersweet .... Both a relief, and also a bit sad.   I will certainly miss this very special bonding time that nature has allowed me to share with her.  I'll just have to replace it with heaps of snuggles, cuddles, hugs and kisses.
Meanwhile, tonight I will sip cranberry juice from a fancy crystal wine glass and toast my small victory.  

Still Stinky

Now that my daughter is officially a toddler, long gone are the days of diaper explosions and laundry baskets overflowing with burp cloths drenched in regurgitated breast milk.
Thank heavens for small favors.
We have now entered into an entirely new era of stink.
Alas, these are the days when I find the container of yogurt that mysteriously disappeared 4 or 5 days ago (while a high chair was being wiped down and put away) in my new leather boots by the door.  Ah, and what IS that green furry thing in the tiny compartment of her activity table? ..... Oh, just an old stow away otherwise known as the rest of that teething cookie she was cutting that molar on last week.
Instead of breast pads that reek of stale milk, I am now adorned with unique peanut butter clips that hoist one's skirt up in a less than modest fashion created from that wonderful pb&j embrace I was granted after lunch.  Bless the elderly woman at the store who clued me in on the fact that my "bloomers were showin".  Humph!
..... And let's not even try to explain how one gets a Cherrio out of a dreadlock. Long story.

There are others in the house that smell less than "fresh" as well.  Quilla has recently singled out a sweet little French rag doll with pink bows in her hair that we refer to as "Coco."  Coco goes with us EVERYWHERE.  She even has a place at the dinner table now next to Quilla where she enjoys a meal of plastic banana and wooden broccoli.  We thought this was sooooo precious until we realized that Coco is also an avid swimmer.  Coco likes to take frequent dips in the dog's water bowl, Quilla's sippy cup, Mommy's water glass if left on the coffee table, the bath tub, the puddle on the shower floor, the dirty water that collects on the inside door of the dishwasher as I load it after dinner, the mud puddle in the driveway next to the car, the puddle in the parking lot at the store, the puddle ANYWHERE, and of course ..... Yes, the toilet.  Soooooo ..... Unbeknownst to my 16 month old sleeping beauty, Coco also takes a  swim in the washing machine while Quilla takes her afternoon nap.
I think I may need to find a Coco clone or two.
At the end of some days I am too tired to wait until Quilla goes to sleep to do my own night-time ritual.  So, sometimes I slip into a bubble bath with her, and we play with her bath toys until the water is nearly cold and our toes look like raisins.

It was all fun and games until she recently learned to say "potty" with sheer delight and accomplishment every time she "tinkles".
Of course, it HAS crossed my mind that during our family bath time she may occasionally relieve herself somewhere below the floating safari animals and tug boats. Well, what I didn't know, didn't hurt me until last night when Quilla smiled sheepishly and admitted "potty" as I was showing her how to blow bubbles in our bath water.
Rinse, lather repeat.  Rinse , lather, repeat!
Yup! There is an altogether new stench in the house.
I am sure that this phase will one day come to an end and lend itself to even more stinky opportunity.  We recently visited a friend who has a 2 year old daughter who is nearly potty trained.  While we were there, she soiled her new "big-girl-panties" which she discarded along with the rest of her outfit in a corner of the house somewhere just prior to streaking through the living room with a somewhat ummmmm ... Chocolatey bum.
I guess this is what I have to look forward to.
Lovely.
I am forced to question my own sanity as this ex-neat-freak (yours truly) would love nothing more than for Quilla to one day have a little brother or sister to play with.
Where's my hand sanitizer?

Bittersweet Brilliance

Quilla is one smart cookie.  I am sure every parent feels this way on a moment to moment basis as their child all of the sudden morphs into a little person from his or her infantile stages.  At 16 months, my daughter has a vocabulary of 75+ words, 35+ ASL signs, walks, runs, jumps, dances, sings, and can do a somersault.  While her progress may be completely normal, it's insane when you think about the fact that only a year ago she could barely belch on her own without assistance.  There are moments in the day when I am in sheer awe of her genius.  Today was one of them.

Since we moved to Texas, Quilla has been exposed to a LOT of animals.  We are in the heart of farm country, so I'm taking advantage of our current resources!  Quilla and I have visited farms with horses, cows, chickens, goats, ducks, rabbits, pigs, ponies, donkeys, mules, turtles, llamas - you name it!  She can name at least 30 animals, and when she's in the mood, can imitate most of the sounds that they all make.  I thought I was so clever in my hands-on approach at this part of her education until this evening.

Quilla chasing geese in Mission, TX

I love dinner time.  I love it even more now that Quilla is not only joining us at the table (in her Inglesina chair) but she is also eating the same food that we are eating.  It's so nice to relax and enjoy our quality family time at the table instead of rushing about the kitchen preparing multiple meals for baby/the adults.  We all feed ourselves now, and it's quite civilized ...  Normally.

Tonight, as I placed one of Quilla's favorite meals (turkey and asparagus) on her plate, she promptly began throwing turkey bombs on the floor and said, "NO bak-bak Mommy"!
I can only assume she thought we were eating chicken (bak-bak) and she has (clearly) all-to-soon connected the dots between the chicken on the dinner table and the beautiful gray and white chickens she chased at a horse farm earlier this week. Guess I'd better thaw out a steak for tomorrow night - safer.  Shame I am no longer a vegetarian.  pfff!

After dinner I decided that instead of her normal swim in the claw foot tub, I would take a shower with her before bed since we both need to wash our hair.  When we finished, I stepped out first and then reached down to wrap her up in a fluffy towel, but she refused me.
"No, Mommy" she said as she squatted down on the shower floor.
"What's wrong my baby?"  I cooed at her.
"POTTY!" she said as she peered down at the liquid collecting around her feet while she simultaneously did the ASL sign for potty with her clenched little fist.
I don't think any parent has ever been so proud as I was in that very moment to have their kid pee in the shower.
Tomorrow she will build rockets for NASA, perform brain surgery, and cure cancer.

Her 1st adjective

Quilla has learned the word "boobie".
... not sure exactly how this happened since I have always referred to nursing as "milk" ... which she has been saying in sign language since she was 4 months old.
However, the last time I went grocery shopping she decided to exercise her command of this new word via tantrum in the cereal isle.
"BOO-BIE! BOO-BIE! BOO-BIE!" she chanted and pleaded with enormous crocodile tears as she tugged at my shirt from her seat in the cart.  With a somewhat crimson complexion, I quickly abandoned my shopping, and headed out with only half of my task accomplished.
So, genius Mommy that I am, I decided to "top her off" before heading into the store today to do a weeks worth of grocery shopping and avoid a repeat of our last adventure.  As I sat in the back seat of the car nursing her in the parking lot, she suddenly looked up at me and said "Mommy? Mommy! Mommy!"  
"Yes, Baby?" I said.

"MY Boobie." she said with a very smug little smile on her face as she gently patted the side of my breast while gazing up at me through the Mr. Snuffleupagus-esque eyelashes that frame her beautiful big brown eyes.
*sigh*
I'm in big trouble.  My 15 month old is smart as a whip, and doesn't miss a beat!
Still, the jury is still out on who won this battle of wits today as I DID finish my grocery shopping  without any further dramatic expression.
We both got what we wanted.
All is fair in love and war.

Stuck at Stucky's

When I was a little girl, my father used to tell me, "there are no short-cuts".
I don't think my husband was ever given the same advise, and if he was, then it definitely went in one ear and out the other.
About two-thirds of the way through our recent migration to Dallas, I was driving along while talking to my Mother after having filled up with gas at the last exit. I was just telling her how the trucks were both running well, and that the trip was going very smoothly.
I guess my husband figured it was going a little too smoothly, and needed to spice things up a bit. No sooner did the words come out of my mouth, when I heard my husbands voice on the walkie talkie say, "Turn around. My iPhone was stolen at Stucky's Gas. I'm stuck."

It was 12 miles to the next exit. By the time I got back near Stucky's, I was fully panicked and worried. What did he mean by "I'm stuck"?
Then I saw him.

Couldn't miss him.
He must've freaked out when he realized he did not have his main mode of communication with me on him, and decided it would be easier to turn around on the grass median to return to Stucky's to try and find it or get it back. The grassy knoll separating the highway from the local road was a bit u- shaped. So when he got acrossed it to turn around, the nose and tail end of the truck anchored on the outer edges, trapping the wheels and causing the truck to become a big ole yellow bridge from one side of the median to the other. It was like a banana colored beached whale in the middle of a major highway. I can't believe a police officer did not see this and give him more trouble than I had planned to. I guess I should've laughed, because in hind sight, it WAS pretty funny, but I didn't. I was furious. I threw our AAA card at him and stomped off to nurse a hungry and fussy Quilla in the car.
Everyone knows that if you sit your iPhone down in a public place that it will probably get legs, right?
.... And I wouldn't have rode a bicycle across that median, let alone drive a massive moving truck across it!
Grrrrrr!
Moments later a trucker driving a huge semi stopped and helped to pull the vessel carrying all of our earthly possessions back onto the road.
Lucky.
My husband is SO lucky. He seems to always have a plethora of good Samaritans on call for the times when he just can't help himself but to take that ever-tempting short cut.
He must have some super-duper goooooood karma.
He certainly doesn't ever bore me. :-)

Don't Mess With Texas!

Immediately after crossing the boarder into Texas there are signs posted along the highway with the Lone Star state's slogan: "Don't mess with Texas". And as if to drive that point home, there is the widest variety and greatest amount of road kill along the side of that highway I have EVER seen! Dogs, cats, deer, skunks, pigs, coyote, and possum were all lined up to welcome us. :-(
Poor things.

Relocating half way across the country is quite an undertaking. Raven hasn't lived there in at least 30 years, and I have absolutely no idea about how anything works or where anything is there. So, until we get all the how, what's, and where's sorted out about becoming Texans, Raven's family have made their lake house near Dallas available to us. It was an enormous gift, relief, and help to us. We will stay there through the holidays, or until we get our footing .... Which ever comes first.
The arrival plan was for me to go visit and rest with Quilla at Raven's sister's home with her family while he and his brother went to unload the truck at the local "Stash and Dash" (no, I'm not kidding). After they finished unloading what needed to go into our storage unit, they would go to the lake house to unload whatever things we would need for the next couple months, and then they would return the truck rental and meet up with us.
So, we drove through Texas for a day and a half, and after what has seemed like the week that would never end, we arrived at Raven's sister's family's home in Dallas where Quilla and I received a very warm welcome. We thoroughly enjoyed a long over due visit with Quilla's aunt, uncle and cousins. Raven's eldest niece has a daughter who is two years old, and Quilla fell in love with her immediately.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
Or lake house as it were ...
Raven was receiving his own down-home Texas welcome.
After finally storing the last of our belongings at the Stash & Dash, he and his brother fumbled through the darkest of the night at 2am to deposit the rest of our belongings in the cabin. The GPS took them to boat ramp by mistake, so they had to back the 26 ft moving truck down an alternate dirt road to get back on track. This must've caused a bit of a disturbance in the sleepy little gated community because the next thing you know a man was walking towards them through the dark yelling "don't come any closer!" .... With a gun!

He then fired a warning shot into the ground just to make sure they knew he meant business. Raven tried to explain that they were looking for his family's cabin, but the slurring man looked skeptical. Clearly though, he wasn't worried because then his "back up" jumped out from behind the bushes in full on camouflage with an AR14 semiautomatic! He let the startled brothers know that he was the head of the POA (property owners association) here in these parts, and that his family owns most of this land. After some brutal verbal interrogation, the two community watch dogs finally let Raven and his brother approach the house. In order to maintain that Raven and his brother were who they said they were and that they had no criminal intent, they watched over Raven's shoulder as he punched in the security code on the lock that would allow them to retrieve the key to enter the house. Realizing that they had barked up the wrong tree, they lowered their weapons and mumbled an apology, but could be heard in the bushes where they probably were spying with night vision goggles for the next hour.
How's that for a nice "howdy-ya-do"!
The next day when Quilla and I arrived at the lake house with Raven, things were much more quiet. The only greeting of any kind we had was an enormous black bug that flew by as I rocked Quilla on the porch swing outside. She pointed at it and said "bird".
yup! Pfffff! DO NOT MESS WITH TEXAS!

The open road

Wednesday night at the route 66 motel made me feel like we were in a scene from "My Cousin Vinny". We were so tired, but just as we started to drift off to sleep, a train whistle blew just a stone's throw away. Then the room became quiet again. So quiet, in fact, that we became painfully aware of the dripping faucet in the bathroom. Then, just about the time we began to finally drift off to sleep again, the tin on the gas heater heated up enough that it made a loud "pop" that sounded like a gun going off right in the room, and all three of us jumped from the bed. By the time we were calmed down and ready to drift off into la-la land again, the next train went by and the room shook. It was so dark when we got to the motel, that I guess we failed to notice the train tracks that nearly ran past the window. Somewhere around 3:30am, we all fell into a deep sleep from sheer exhaustion. We got up 4 hours later and started driving again.
Surprisingly after such a restless might, Thursday was a great day. We somehow survived the sleep deprivation. Maybe it was all all training that Quilla put us through in her first months. Lol! Regardless, we got to Albuquerque feeling positive and accomplished for the day. We had some Mexican food and got a good nights rest.
On Friday morning as we pulled back onto I40, Raven beeped the horn of the yellow Penske truck at me and waved as I pulled in front of him into our normal caravan formation.
The horn on the yellow truck STUCK!
I felt like I was being followed by the "Little Miss Sunshine" van! Good thing Quilla and I didn't need to push it! what a picture THAT would've been! Eventually the horn stopped. Whew!
We knew we were definitely not in Kansas any more at the next rest stop when a very interesting Jed Clampet-esque character monopolized 20 minutes of our break for gas while telling us about his "grand youngans" We were thoroughly amused and enjoyed listening to his story while Quilla studied his weathered face and twinkling eyes. She also enjoyed the next rest stop where a massive German shepherd named Bullet sauntered over from his post by the vintage gas pump just off route 66 to greet her. She threw her arms around his neck and he gave her a kiss on the nose. Very sweet. A man with a straw hat who was very diligently working on a wad of chew informed me that "Bullet won't hurt 'er none".
"Jed", tobacco man, and Bullet were just about the only living creatures of any kind we saw all day as we crossed over into Texas.
...just lots of open road and the most beautiful, big, full moon I have ever seen.

Truckin'

After 34 days of packing and 4 days of loading 2 trucks, we finally got on the road yesterday. We got a late start, and had lunch just before we got on the road. One hour later Quilla started to fuss a little and I figured she was just about to fall asleep for her afternoon nap. Then she started to WAIL. Of course I was in bumper-to-bumper traffic as I started to make my way across 4 lanes of traffic to the shoulder of the highway to check on her. Then she started gagging. I glanced over my shoulder to see her choking as she vomited like something out of a horror movie in the reflection of her mirror across from her rear facing car seat. I was terrified! I don't remember how I got over to the shoulder as fast as I did, but I'm certain that I am probably very lucky I did not cause an accident. I also called Raven who was following me in the 26 ft moving truck to scream the details of the situation to him. Before either of the trucks probably came to a full stop on the shoulder of the 15 freeway, my feet hit the pavement and I yanked Quilla out of the 5 point harness of her car seat.
Scary. Super scary.
I hate the rear-facing dealio! I know it's safer in an accident, but had it not been for the mirror I have facing her, I might not have gotten over in time to help her. Raven cleaned out the car seat while I got Quilla calmed down, stripped down to a diaper, and nursed her. My poor baby! The highway patrol came to "check on us", but once Raven mentioned baby barf, they felt quite assured that we had our situation under control and could handle it without further assistance. We're still not sure what made her sick. It could've been her lunch didn't agree with her, or motion sickness. All I know is that I'm thrilled that it seems to have been an isolated incident, and she has been perfectly fine since then.
So fine, in fact, that I am convinced my daughter is actually a little angel.
I feel that most people don't smile enough at one another. In a world where people are so skeptical of one another for being too nice, too cold, too loud, too quiet, too black, too white, too rich, too poor ... I sometimes feel that it is such an accomplishment to smile at a stranger and get one back in return.
Not anymore!
Quilla has the ability to turn even the greatest perma-stink-eye person into a smiling mushie puddle of Luva-luva! They can't help themselves! She is just too stinking cute, or has magical powers ... Or both! All I can say is that all of interstate HWY 40 must've gotten the memo that "behold the sun doth shine out of the wee babe Quilla's arse" because we have been gifted smiles by everyone all day long at every rest stop/truck stop we visit.
Sigh
She IS pretty fantastic. Quite the little charmer!

Well, this road trip is going super slow,  but we are having a good time ...  minus Quilla blowing chunks ... even if our motel tonight does smell like an unkept nursing home with an old smoking-friendly casino inside, and the only restaurant nearby is called the "Road Kill Cafe".

Moving Day(s)

Well, just tell me when it's over! I have been packing for one month now, and finally finished at 2am Thursday morning.
We were supposed to pick up the moving truck at 9am Friday morning.
however ...
At 11pm Thursday night as I was gathering together our important documents for the trip, I realized my drivers license had expired while I've been busy trying to fit our life Into a box. So, first thing the next morning I dressed Quilla, gave her some fruit and cherrios, took a shower, threw some clothes on and dashed out the door (wet head, no makeup of course!) to the DMV to get the license renewed. As I was "dashing" I scooped up my happy babbling toddler only to realize that she was cold and wet. Apparently, she had taken a morning swim in the dog's water bowl. So, back in the house we went for a wardrobe change. Seven minutes later my accomplished wiggler and I were In the car and on our way. Luckily, it was raining, and since most Angelino's either don't know how or are scared to drive in the rain, there was no one at the DMV. There was no line and I was able to very quickly finish the renewal process. The only hiccup was that they needed to take a new photo of me for the new license. So, need less to say, for the next 5 years I will carry a drivers license with a terrible wet head/no makeup/dark under eye circles mug shot photo that also looks like I have a bit of facial hair because I was holding Quilla when it was taken and the top of her head was just at my chin! Pffff!
With my new trans-gender looking drivers license in hand, we went to pick up my husband so we could go get the moving truck. All in all that went smoothly, except for my credit card was declined because the bank had a fraud warning hold placed on my account. So, I had to call the bank to verify some recent activity which took another 30 minutes. By the time we got back to the house to start loading the truck it was 10:45am.
And then the sky opened up.
It poured.
It rained cats, dogs AND elephants! It was cold and miserable .... And then eventually it was dark and time for Quilla to go to bed. So, we called it a day.
And did it all over again on Saturday.
And Sunday.
It's now Monday morning. I'm climbing the walls and loosing my mind in a hotel room just down the street from our empty house while Raven finishes tying up a few loose ends so we can finally hit the road.
The truck rental was for 6 days, so we now have 3 days left to drive to Texas and unload it on the other end. This will be virtually impossible since we are traveling with a one year old.
We're not off to a great start.
Poop.

Cry Kookaburra Cry

Like so may other Los Angelinos .... Californians ..... and Americans, 2011 has been a tough year for us. We've had less income, more bills, and have been fighting to save our home. We found out last year that the financial institution that we paid our mortgage to was one of the banks that paid the billion dollar (?!) penalty to the government in order to not have to participate in the "making homes affordable" program. Re modifying our loan was never an option for us. After so many months of fighting for something that has depreciated in value so much that it's not worth the energy (more than half!), we finally decided that the smartest thing to do was to give up, and to start over. I think it was the toughest decision my husband and I have ever had to make.

I debated long and hard as to whether or not I would even write this blog as it is so personal and fragile an issue, but then I thought: This is life. This is the real deal. This is the thing one SHOULD write about. 

So .... we are moving to Texas... in less than a month.

Since Quilla was born, I have never felt the need to be near family as greatly as I have in the last year on a daily basis. My husband's family is in Texas. It will be good for Quilla to be surrounded by so many loving relatives, and I am looking forward to getting to know them better.
In my life I have lived in so many places in the world without knowing much about it, a single soul, or sometimes even the language when I arrived there, and always found my way .... I hope that skill resurfaces! I am sure Texas will be wonderful, but a bit of an adjustment for this New York City girl who still considers Los Angeles to be an over-grown suburb ...  Ha!
But I can't think about that now. I must pack.

I must pack away our home of the last 5 years ... the first home we bought just before we got married, the house where Raven carried me over the threshold, the home where we buried my first dog, the home where Quilla was conceived, the home I brought her home to just after her birth, the home where she took her first steps, the home where we just hosted her first birthday party surrounded by all the wonderful friends we've made over the years since we moved to Los Angeles from NYC...

32 boxes later, I have now finally finished packing up the kitchen. As I wiped down the counter tops,  shelves and stove,  The Australian Lullaby: "Kookaburra" gently drifted from Quilla's iPod in the living room where she was playing.

"Kookaburra sits on a rusty nail 

Gets a boo-boo in his tail 

Cry, Kookaburra! Cry, kookaburra! 

Oh how life can be" 

With great nostalgia, I realized that Quilla's birthday cake was the last thing I will/would have ever baked in this kitchen.

I sat down in a pile of bubble wrap .... and cried.

Finding your inner voice...and NOT using it!

We all know what it's like to have our kid's favorite songs or songs from a favorite TV show suck in our heads. I can't tell you how many nights I'm trying to fall asleep or write an email and the theme from Bubble Guppies or Fresh Beat Band pops into my head. Before I know it, I'm belting out preschool songs at the copy machine in the hall at work. I've given up trying to hide the dialog that is constantly playing in my head throughout the day. I sing songs in odd places and times, have full conversations with myself about what to make for dinner or if I switched the wash. Sometimes I even talk in funny voices at the most inappropriate times ... like today.

I'm in the middle of an exhausting 2 weeks of school working towards my MFA in design/illustration. My schedule since last Sunday has been up at 5am, drive 1.5 hours to my university, participate in rigorous art classes until 5pm, drive 1.5 hrs to work to catch up on things, then home, spend an hour with my kids and then work on homework until I'm too tired to see straight. It's no wonder my brain is so fried!

A perfect example of the constant inner dialog happening with the combination of being overstretched and tired happened today in one of my studio classes. A brilliant and well known artist who happens to be from the UK is teaching this particular studio. He's older and very distinguished...and very British. As he was coming around to inspect my work, he greeted me with a "hello" that was so British that it could have come from an episode of Kipper The Dog. I turned to him very abruptly and responded with an even bigger, longer and oh so British..."HELLO" (Mrs. Doubtfire style)! I realized immediately what I had done and went on describing my work very seriously trying to play off my incredibly offensive display. He left the room a few moments later and I could feel every eye in the studio on me. I looked up sheepishly trying not to laugh and said "it was an accident". My classmates exploded with laughter for a good 10 minutes.

I couldn't help myself! It came out without even thinking! As I said, I'm always doing funny voices with my kids, but this was not the time for that inner voice to creep out! I only hope that I didn't offend this person and that I can keep that voice hidden for a few more days. I'm fulling blaming my kids for this one! Haha!

Getting My Mojo Back

shoot for a Maxim calender ... pre-pregnancy

Pregnancy  takes a toll on a women's body.
My "toll" was the addition of approximately 80 pounds of baby weight over the last two years.
A couple years ago my husband and I decided to start a family. After so many years of modeling and depriving myself of any culinary indulgences, I traded in the master cleanser diet for healthy well- balanced diet of 6 small meals a day, and a good prenatal vitamin. I slowly gained about 20lbs of healthy weight over the course of a year or so, and on our 2nd anniversary in August 2009 I got pregnant.   I continued following a strict diet of only the best organic and healthy meals I could provide for my unborn child's nutrition, and continued to gain about 1 pound a week with the pregnancy.
In October I miscarried. I was devastated.  At this point I was 30 pounds heavier than I'd ever been in my life, and very depressed.  Additionally, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's thyroiditis which can sometimes occur after pregnancy. While my doctor was finding the correct dosage of synthetic hormone to balance my now hypo-thyroid, I gained another 10 pounds of, well, lets just call it "comfort food" weight.  Once my thyroid was stabilized and after plenty of tests and visits to a new OBGYN to insure the best chances for a better outcome, we decided to try again on December 27, 2009 and were successful!  However, I was already 40 lbs heavier than I had ever been when Quilla was conceived.  I stuck to a very strict and healthy diet throughout my pregnancy and gained a total of 43 pounds by the time my daughter was born in late September 2010.  Of course some of the weight was my baby and all the other stuff floating around with her in her bubble in my belly for 42 weeks. So, that weight came off (or out!) the day she was born, but the rest of it was mine to loose.

8 months postpartum

Since pregnancy I have slowly lost a total of 43 pounds.  The last ten of those pounds I lost in the last 2 weeks.  I have begun a healthy diet and exercise program, and I am loosing about 3 - 4 pounds a week.  I have heard that breast feeding helps you loose weight, but this was not the case for me or I would look as thin as Kate Moss during the heroin-chic phase of the 90's by now with the amount of breastmilk my sweet little girl consumes.
Now that Quilla is 9 months old and eating some solid food I finally felt confident enough that  starting a diet would not impede on her nutrition. I was so afraid that dieting would affect my milk supply, but it doesn't seem to be a problem at all!   In fact, I pumped a 6 ounce bottle of boobie milk in about 4 minutes for Quilla to enjoy on the way to Mommy & Me Yoga this morning!
Yup, the factory is still in tact.
The factory is in tact, and apparently so is my mojo!  On the 1.5 mile walk to Mommy & Me yoga this morning, I got hit on from Vine to Highland Avenue!  My walk was full of smiles, sideward glances, whistles and cat-calls.  This sort of behavior and attention used to really piss me off and annoy me a few years ago .... but today it made my day.
So, I still have another 40 pounds to loose before I am back down to what I consider an acceptable weight.  ... and yes, I realize that my idea of acceptable weight is slightly askew from years in the fashion industry, but I will strive for it anyway.  I will accomplish my quest just in time to get pregnant again and start the whole process over again. Oh well.  For now, bring on the whistles, cat-calls and inappropriate compliments.  I will revel in it while it lasts!

Milk Drunk

As I sat quietly nursing & rocking Quilla to sleep in the moonlit nursery this evening I received the funniest text from one of my closest girlfriends who happens to work just down the street from our home.

K: "I'm about to head over." 
     "Can't wait for that sweet nectar."  
     "Mother's Milk."

Me:  "??? - lol!"

K:  "ha ha ha - oops - that was for Megan.  Mothers Milk = Glass of wine."

Me: "I figured! hahahahahaha!"

K:  "Ha ha ha- of all the people to accidentally send that to ... you actually HAVE Mother's Milk."

Me:  "I know ... so it was 10 times as funny!"

K:  "sick."

Me: "hahhahahahahahahahaha!"

K:  "hahahahahahahahaha!"

Me:  "still LMBO."   
        " Long day? lol.  Omg ... probably the single funniest text I've ever accidentally got."

K:   "Ha ha - LOVE it."

Me:  "tell Megan I say hello."

K:  "I will!"

Poop vs. Poop

People will tell you that baby poop smells sweet and doesn't stink.
It stinks.

It stinks and it's messy because a baby who is on a liquid diet of breast milk for the first 6 months or so of his/her life has liquid poo.  Furthermore, it doesn't matter how talented you are at diapering: Liquid poo has the uncanny ability to leak, squirt or explode out of a diaper no matter which brand of disposable or reusable/cloth diapers you use. Of course these explosions will mostly happen when you are in public on the one day you are without a change of cloths in the diaper bag you are carrying for your bundle of joy.  This is an inevitable fact.
Another inevitable fact is that one fine day you will miss that stinky runny poop, because there is something that smells worse: real poop.  I realized today that the reason people tell you that baby poop doesn't stink is because it doesn't smell even remotely as grotesque as the poop that comes from your baby's cute little tooshie once he/she has started eating baby food.  OMG- it is vile!  It does, however, stay (easily) contained in the diaper as it is a more solid consistency.  I must say that I am ever so pleased that this new super duper stink poo cannot be expected to occasionally present itself up my daughters back, in her arm pit or behind her ear.
So, I guess there are pro and cons to both kinds of poopie, but don't ever let anyone tell you that baby poop doesn't stink - cause that's just a load of crap. 

The Mommy Groupie

In high school I was homecoming princess and prom queen.  I'm not sure exactly why or how that happened.  I don't think I was really very popular, and while I was friendly with everyone (jocks, nerds, rockers, preps, etc), I didn't have many real friends.  At my graduation while most kids were hugging each other and bidding one another tearful goodbyes, I was happy to begin the next chapter of my life without hesitation or looking back.  It's not that I hated school or anything.  I just didn't have a sense of belonging there or any serious attachments.  I was never a part or any "click" and never really understood them.
However .... er um ...
Now that I'm a Mom, I totally want in on the "mommy click"!  It's weird.  I have friends.  I have some great friends.  But I NEED "Mommy friends".  I need Mommy friends who live close by and have babies the same age as Quilla.  I guess I'm not the first Mom who has ever felt this way or there wouldn't be so many "Mommy and Me" organizations profiting off of this desperate need for us to associate with others who have also survived 9 months of carrying around a watermelon in her belly.  I am totally envious of the Moms sitting together at the park enjoying their lattes as their little ones eat sand together.  I need to find me a pal or two like that! .... for Quilla's sake.  *sigh*
So, I have officially become a Mommy groupie.  I'm scoping out the diaper isle at Target and attending Mommy & Me Yoga classes with the sheer intention of hooking up.  It's not so different from dating. I try to be creative thinking up casual ways to strike up a conversation about stroller preferences with another woman who looks cool and is more or less the same age as myself who has a  baby who looks more or less Quilla's age just so I can bait her long enough to pop the question:
"Hey, wanna have a play date?"  
It's a little nerve wracking.  I mean,  a girl's gotta be proactive, but I don't want to come on too strong or sound too needy ...  and once a Mommy text's you her number, how long should you wait before returning her text and scheduling the coffee/play date?  Well, I'm not exactly sure of the etiquette, but if your a Mom who is quietly debating the pro's and con's of Medela verses Lansinoh breast pads in isle 7 at Walgreens - just be nice to that other Mommy in the isle who quickly flashes you a Cheshire Cat smile the second you look in her direction cause she's probably not half a s creepy as she looks.  OK?

Please donate to Diapees -N- Wipees 4 Japan!

5 Stinky Moms is conducting a diaper drive (nappies and wipes) for disaster relief in Japan. 


The reports of the disaster in Japan are devastating. There are so many things that are needed to help those who have survived. We are trying to do our part and contribute what we can to help. For $10 you could help to keep a child in need in clean dry diapers for a week.  100% of your donation to Diapees -N- Wipees 4  Japan will go towards diapers and wipes to be acquired and distributed by the Salvation Army.
Please donate by clicking the donate button on the top of or homepage to help provide babies in Japan with this basic necessity as there is a great shortage.  Thank you!

Paint it Black

What baby merchandise mogul was it that "invented" baby colors, anyway?  Why is it that we dress and decorate our baby's bedrooms in lovely pale hues that are destined to become stained and ruined?  Babies actually prefer bright colors, and newborns are stimulated by mostly black and red, so why is it that I am spending butt loads of money on stain removers to keep my baby's whites white?  Today I washed the seat cover of my daughters highchair, ergo baby, floor blanket to the rainforest gym, seat cover to her swing, seat cover to her jumperoo, sun visor of her stroller,  and a load of clothing containing the two outfits that fell victim today to fruit and poop.  I spent most of my day treating stains while I am wearing dirty cloths since I have nothing clean to wear because I am so backed up with the laundry as I am having to constantly push another load of baby clothes through the wash!
If it was all black my life would be so much simpler.
sigh

Help 4 Babies, Children and Pregnant/Nursing Mothers in Japan

5 Stinky Moms is now conducting a "Diapies-N-Wipies 4 Japan" drive for those who are interested in  donating funds specifically towards diapers and other supplies for babies, children and nursing/pregnant mothers in Japan.   Please help us in our quest by clicking the donate button on our page above.  

Here are some additional resources for those who want to help:

• Organization for International Cooperation on Family Planning (JOICFP) and the Japanese Midwives’ Association together with local doctors are helping breast-feeding mothers by providing them with privacy and their babies with diapers and other products. They are offering counseling to women under high stress. To donate please follow the link below:

http://www.oxfam.org/en/pressroom/pressrelease/2011-03-15/tsunami-appeal-oxfam-japan-fund-two-partners-helping-mothers-and-b

• The U.S. Fund for UNICEF (USF) is raising funds to help children in Japan impacted by the recent earthquake and tsunami.  Due to the unprecedented nature of the epic disaster and its impact on children, resources are going to be critical in helping provide for the very unique needs of children.  These may include health, development and protection and other needs that may have been compromised or disrupted in the wake of catastrophe. 

To donate please follow the link below:

https://secure.unicefusa.org/site/Donation2?df_id=9640&9640.donation=form1

• Donate to Save the Children by calling 1-800-728-3843. Or Text “JAPAN" to 20222 to donate $10. Or online http://www.savethechildren.org/site/c.8rKLIXMGIpI4E/b.6621121/k.3D08/Japan_Earthquake_Tsunami_Relief.htm

• Donate to American Red Cross

Text REDCROSS to 90999 to Give $10 or online

http://www.redcross.org/

If you can read Japanese, you can donate directly to Japan Red Cross

http://www.jrc.or.jp/contribution/l3/Vcms3_00002069.html

• Mercy Corps is working to help survivors of Japan's earthquake and tsunami with Peace Winds. Peace Winds continues to deliver emergency supplies -- including tents, blankets, instant rice and other foodstuffs -- to families evacuated from homes in the tsunami-devastated city of Kesennuma.  To donate please follow this link : https://www.mercycorps.org/donate/japan?source=55400&gclid=CO6qmJb91acCFQcBbAodFRzW9g

• World Care has teamed up with Walgreens.  By following the link below you can not only donate, but you can specify howyou prefer the donation to be spent. https://www.networkforgood.org/donation/MakeDonation.aspx?ORGID2=86-0830973&source=GS&cmpgn=DNT&vlrStratCode=UMurV8uNyebU80Ql7khVqV0vqwvlASLHXNXn5X9EXagbCO%2b%2bmL5vjU%2bTodB%2bjmq7
• A Salvation Arm team is in the Mito area and have unloaded bottles of water, biscuits, blankets, nappies (diapers) and tissue boxes for distribution to evacuees. If you’d like to support The Salvation Army’s Japan relief efforts, you can do so in the following ways:

• Donate online at donate.salvationarmyusa.org
• Call 1-800-SAL-ARMY
• Text the words “Japan” or “Quake” to 80888 to make a $10 donation. (Please ensure that you respond “YES” to the Thank You message you receive.)
• By mail: Send your check, marked “Japan earthquake relief” to

The Salvation Army World Service Office
International Relief Fund
PO Box 630728
Baltimore, MD 21263-0728

Train Wreck at Trader Joe's

In the last year, a new Trader Joe's opened just 3 blocks from my home.  Since it's so close, if I don't have an enormous grocery list I just put Quilla in the stroller and walk there.  Most of the groceries will fit in the compartment underneath her seat and the remaining bags (if any) I just strap onto the stroller handles.  It's nice to walk instead of drive!  Living in L.A., I spend entirely too much time in the car.  Quilla loves to go for walks in the stroller, so I walk instead of drive to run my daily errands more often than not these days.

Today it was a super short grocery list so I hooked her favorite toys on the Orbit and off we went! When we got there I attached small shopping basket to the handles and then put the sunshade down and sat her seat more upright so she could see better.  She is such a little socialite and people watcher!  Whenever I am shopping she just giggles and chats away in her own language to anyone who will listen.
Today's tour of Trader Joe's was pretty short and sweet.  I was headed to the cashier when I realized I had forgotten flour, so I bagged a U-turn and headed back down the isle.  Quilla giggled at me as I made a funny face at her just before I turned and bent down to get a bag of organic unbleached flour from the bottom shelf. As if in slow motion, all of the sudden her stroller started to topple over forward! I lunged sideways toward her, but not fast enough as it hovered on 2 wheels in the air just centimeters from my finger tips. I screamed ... I must have because another gentleman tried to catch the stroller from the side angle.  Neither of us were successful.  There she was, my darling 5 month old baby, hovering airplane style in her 5-point harness while staring at my toes smiling. After I picked my heart up off the concrete floor and shoved it back down my throat and into my chest cavity, I quickly (and carefully) pulled the stroller back up and tried to wipe the look of sheer horror off my face before Quilla saw and realized this "ride" was not an intentional ploy to amuse her.  She continued to laugh and squeal with delight as I brushed myself off and made flour footprints all the way to the register.  I was still shaking as I paid for the groceries, and carefully stowed them underneath of Quilla's stroller for the walk home.  Luckily, all the groceries fit in the underneath compartment because that is the last time I will EVER put anything on the handles of her stroller again.  I'm so thankful that she was not hurt.  Maybe next time we go grocery shopping I will wear her in the Ergo Baby instead.  Whew!

To hell and back- chapter one

I haven't written in a while as I have been suffering from post traumatic symptoms from our family holiday excursion to Texas in December and January.  I have not allowed myself to write anything new until I documented the ridiculous tale that I am about to tell. I wish I had blogged along the way, but as you read you will begin to understand why I simply could not.  I  plan to tell the story in "chapters" as I am able.
I will warn you - this will not be short and sweet, so turn your phone off and grab a glass ... no, make that a bottle of wine ...

Raven, Me & Christine

My husband has a nasty little habit of buying old "cool" vintage cars that he can tinker on (for years) and then "flip" for almost the amount of money he dumps into them. It's a smelly, dirty, and expensive little habit.  The first time he dabbled in this addiction was two weeks before our wedding.  Regardless of my protests, he drove a beastly '69 Plymouth Barracuda into our driveway and behind our new house.  I nearly called off the wedding.  Somehow, in my gut, I KNEW this was only the beginning of the suffering I would need to gracefully endure.  For three long years he spent his weekends and any other spare time he had with the heap of junk I came to refer to as "Christine".  Christine left her stench all over him all the time.  She also claimed nearly his entire wardrobe.  During this time he repainted her and re built her engine so many times I lost count.  First he built it so she could run on water, then on propane, then a hybrid combination that could switch back to gasoline on demand.  On paper this sound fascinating .... and my husband is somewhat of a mechanical genius, but it's just not exciting anymore when it always smells like your sleeping on the floor of a gas station.... with the pump wrapped around you.
Finally, one joyous day, he sold Christine.

The Dart  AKA the Bat mobile

.... and then he bought the Dart.
1967 Dodge Dart.
Actually, he didn't "buy it".  He did a side job - some custom work on an acquaintance's car.  The client couldn't pay cash, so he gave Raven a car.  Raven promised me that this would not be a new project and that he would sell it right away
... a year ago.

Whether it's hormonal, or just mental survival, being pregnant and then being a new Mom has given me new found peace, tolerance and patience.  I seem to have a sense of calm about things that normally would/should send a normal person in good health into coronary failure, stroke, or cause a sudden onslaught of manic depressive behavior.  I mean, I didn't even inflict any bodily harm on my husband when he was explaining in detail the nature of the last surgery he performed on the Dart to my night nurse while I was in labor.

In the days leading up to Christmas, my husband was completely swamped with a last minute production he was working on. His client had requested a "shabby chic" motor home circa 1985 for the photo shoot they were planning to commiserate late January 2011.  Raven found one exactly like what the client hoped for

our Christmas Chariot

... and bought it.  Yup, Merry Christmas to me.  He bought it.

As the love of my life was consumed with cleaning up & tuning up his latest (slightly more shabby than chic) automotive purchase, I was busy (in denial) Christmas shopping and making plans for our baby's first Christmas and other hair-brained tasks like rearranging our entire house to be more "family friendly".  I guess this is why neither of us (my husband or I) realized that on Christmas Eve we still did not have the airline tickets for our family holiday trip to Texas.  I assumed Raven was handling it .... since we were visiting his family, and Raven assumed I was taking care of it .... cause I am the "family organizer".  Need less to say, on Christmas Eve he asked me "can you please find tickets for us? -I looked on line last night, but  they are very expensive."
???!!!

Quilla meets Santa

... two last minute tickets -  half way across the country ... on Christmas .... of course the rates would be through the roof!
Annoyed as I was, I still felt bad.  I know how important the trip to Texas for the holiday was to Raven, and I had also been excited to introduce Quilla to her Daddy's family.  SO, in a moment of utter insanity, when Raven came through the door saturated in the smell of oil and transmission fluid at 10pm on Christmas Eve, I told him that I would consider a "family road trip" in the RV to Texas. He excitedly took my hand to lead me on the tour of what would be our home on wheels for our new family's first Christmas.  I admitted to him that it looked better than I had expected.
mistake # 2: I should have waited to "inspect" the vehicle in the daylight.
We decided that our plan would be to sleep in and have a somewhat normal Christmas morning of breakfast & gifts before we planned to get on the road around "noonish".

Our first Christmas morning with Quilla was great!  We enjoyed steak & eggs for breakfast while Quilla enjoyed crinkling the discarded red wrapping paper.   I'm sure she will appreciate the whole fan fare a bit more as she gets older, but having her sitting with us in front of the tree made it the best Christmas ever in my book.  After breakfast Raven headed out to the RV to do some last minute bits of cleaning and tweeking. While he was busy making the RV more "Mommy & Quilla friendly", I busied myself with packing for our "adventure".  I called my family back east to wish them a Merry Christmas and inform them of our travel plans.  Each and every one of them responded "OK" in a tone that suggested they assumed I had had one too many eggnogs with my Christmas breakfast.
Around 4pm I was finally packed and ready to go.  Around 6pm Raven told me he needed 2 more hours.  AT 8pm it started to pour rain (of course!) as we began to load up the motor home for the trip.  At 10 pm we were finally on the road.
As we pulled onto the highway, every molecule of my body protested as my gut told me this was a BAD idea.  The RV began to shake and rattle something fierce as doors and cabinets slammed open and shut.  The the windows clanged loudly like an old haunted house.  Quilla began to cry and I nursed her on the sofa-bed to sooth & calm her. I was white knuckled and terrified before we even got up to 50mph.  It sounded like the RV was coming apart screw by screw.  Raven pulled over at the first exit to "secure" everything and assure me that this was going to be a great trip.
.... and so began our adventure.

.... to be continued.