Duck, Duck Goose

Big Boy

Today Alec surprised us by going down the slide all by himself. We were all at the playground and he just climbed up there and shoved off and down he came, lickety split. Then he climbed back up and went down the other one.
After that, we went to the open house at the co-op preschool he'll attend next September. That's 13 months from now and he just snagged the last slot. As soon as we got there he wanted down and he ran all over, playing with the toys and then, outside, in a big tunnel, a toy house and bubbles. When it was time to go, he cried bloody murder because he was having so much fun.
p.s. I deleted a bunch of pictures because, well, they weren't showing up. I'll look into it soon.

That Boy Loves His Meat

Today I didn't go into to work until 1:30 (my job rocks) because Tom was doing some preliminary stuff for a wedding he's shooting tomorrow. Alec didn't go down for his nap for some reason, so we were just chilling. Alec was eating his little snack and I was enjoying some low-fat brie and prosciutto from Trader Joe's. Sure enough, Alec asked for some meat, and I gave him a nitrite-filled slice of the tasty animal flesh. He loved it, and asked for more, which he proceeded to run his hand gently over saying, "Pet, pet." I cracked up laughing, but Alec just ignored me, leaned toward the little scrap of meat and said, "Hugs."

A Message From The Guy Upstairs

Water We Thinking?

At first, Alec didn't want to be put down when we went near the splash park at the gym. Now, he squirms to be put down and just goes for it. We go to the gym pool almost every day (haven't worked out yet, interestingly). Alec gets excited when he sees us getting out our swimsuits. Sometimes he brings me mine saying, "Kick? Kick?" We start out at the big pool, and when he's ready to go to the splash park he starts saying, "Touch? Touch?" as in, touch the water. Today he kept taking off fearlessly toward the edges of the pools throwing in our shoes and earning some glances from the lifeguards.

The Box It Came In

This is Alec's new favorite plaything, Jody's favorite nap spot and the occupyer-of-space-in-our-living room.

Action at the Pool

Yesterday, at the gym pool, Alec...
1. Looked down my shirt at my boobs (We're still nursing), smacked his lips and shook his head from side to side saying, "Mmm, mmm, mmm."
2. Greeted a little girl of about 3 at the spray park by saying, "Hi!" and then patting her gently on the behind. Thus lured, the girl gave Alec a big hug, and he walked away nodding his head confidently, saying, "Hugs" under his breath.
I think we're in for it.

Friendship and Icees

Two thoughts today:
1. It's July 24, my friend Sabrina Byrd 's birthday. But we're not friends anymore--we've lost touch. The last time I saw her was about 15 years ago in Medford, Oregon where she was working at a clothing store and a bank. She had a new baby boy and was about to marry a guy named, I think, Jeremy. I miss her; I hope we get back in touch some day. We were "best friends forever" in sixth grade.
2. When I was a kid we used to shop occasionally in Oregon (only an hour away and no taxes) and whenever we'd go to Kmart my mom would get me an Icee. It was a real treat, because I wasn't allowed a lot of sweets. When I first started having them, they only came in red (cherry), but later they added, I think, blue, and I'd order half-and-half. I still remember how the extra would "spurt" up from the hole in the plastic top and you had to lick it off quickly before it spilled over; it tickled the tongue. The other day at Target I decided to get Alec, who also is allowed limited sweets, a small Icee. (It comes in "clear" now, which means no stains.) That boy was in Heaven! He was perfectly silent for about 20 minutes as I shopped and he slurped on that Icee. I think he thought I was going to take it away at any moment. The next time we went to Target, after some debate with his dad, asked him, "Do you want an Icee?" And he got so excited, and said, longingly, "Icee? Icee?" So we went to the food area and the freaking Icee machine was out of order! It was like Disneyland being closed; how unfair! There I was trying to explain to a 21-month-old why I'd just lied to/teased him. "Icee? Icee? Peese? Peese?" It was so pitiful. Stupid Icee machine. It's too soon for Alec to learn that life's not fair.

112 degrees

What did we do to deserve living in the bowels of Hell?

Lessons Learning From Camping With Alec

1. Camping with a 9-month-old is a lot easier than camping with a 21-month-old. Everyone wants to hold and play with the 9-month-old. With the 21-month-old, they realize within 3 minutes that he's a wild demon and give him right back.
2. Dirt washes off, even when it's embedded in the hair from repeated throwing of said dirt.
3. While on vacation, don't check your phone messages. It's never good news.
4. A child who's used to 90-degree gym pool water will be a little startled at the temperature of the Merced River.
5. She who drinks Diet Pepsi and root beer all day will go pee-pee all night--and not in the potty.
6. Only the freaky moms make their kids wear a life vest while playing on the shore.
7. If your baby wakes up yelling, "Hi! Tent!" at 5:30 a.m., the people in the next campsite may not appreciate it.
8. If your child lacks the common sense to stay away from the fire pit, you will spend an inordinate amount of time flailing your arms and yelling, "Hot! Hot!"
9. Like Christmas, camping is a lot harder on the parents than the kids.
10. You know what's good for camping? DVDs.

Blowing This Pop Stand

Today we maxed out our credit cards to fix the car, but it won't be done 'til Monday so we're renting a sweet ride (read: some American mid-size whatzit) to carry us away from the 109-degree heat and depressing economic conditions that pervades our Chico lives.
We will soon be in Yosemite soothing our wounded souls in the cool Merced River, for which Alec bears his middle name.
Speaking of bears, we'd better lock up our foot or they will eat it--and us! Yosemite here we come!!!
Here's a pic of Alec and his dad last year at Yosemite. When Tom finds out I posted this he's going to kill me, so good thing my life insurance just came through! 

My Son Is A Cat

Cheap Eats

 
The only thing that tastes better than watermelon on a 107-degree day is free watermelon on a 107-degree day. We all went downtown to Slice of Chico, which involves a sidewalk sale and free watermelon. Did I mention there was free watermelon? We picked up some way-cheap Robeez shoes with crabs on them for Alec, and he pointed at them all day saying, "Cwab! Cwab!"
Later, we decided to pull out the restaurant gift card I had received as my parting gift from my last publication. (Some people get an Orient & Flume handcrafted vase; after 9 years of loyalty and 6 months of subversive bitterness, I get a gift card and a 12-inch rubber phallus. Viva journalism.)
Anyway, we dined on $25-a-plate steak dinner while Alec munched merrily between us, and we managed to break only one item (the glass holding his crayons) and Alec thought the remains were "ice." Halfway through my decadent New York steak with gorgonzola and carmelized onions, I realized it's almost our anniversary, and only then because the party of 15 two feet from us was celebrating one. Ours is on the 21st or 23rd, and we're pretty sure it's been five years. So, anniversary dinner! Yum! 

This Is How We Roll

Here’s a recounting of my adventurous evening with Alec, mainly for the benefit of his dad, who doesn’t get off work until midnight.
Dad dropped us off at Barnes & Noble and headed to work with our sole working car around 3:40. Alec proceeded to go hog-wild in the bookstore, wanting to read every book on the shelves like one of those toddlers whose parents don’t discipline them. I steered him to the train table, where he sang, “Choo-Choo” repeatedly and said “hi” to the other kids.
After that we headed to nearby PetCo, which is markedly cleaner and less filled-with-the-scent-of-rotting-animal-flesh than the pet store we normally frequent for our Alec-pleasing needs. He liked the birds and mouse (mice) the best and proceeded to talk about them for the rest of the evening. I briefly considered buying a goldfish, but common sense and humanity prevailed. Next, I nearly made a similarly fatal mistake and thought about taking Alec to Hometown Buffet, whose sign proclaimed that it was “Kids’ Night,” featuring a frightening giant bee. When I peeked in the door, I saw the price for dinner: $10.29. That’s just wrong.
Next, we went to FoodMaxx, and all my self-pity about not having use of a car or being able to blow $10.29 on crappy, reheated food was alleviated by witnessing the sad parade of the working poor buying Trix and generic Ho-Hos and using poor grammar with their kids. “You ain’t gettin' no soda ’till we get outta here.” So, classism reigns. In fact, I had to go back for my groceries; with no hottie bag boy at my service, I forgot them at the checkout.
After that, we went to Office Depot and I told them about the people online who were talking about a sale of three reams of paper for 88 cents. They looked at me like I’d grown horns.
Then we cruised through Cost-Plus Foods and then on to CostCo, where I picked up a CD of pictures and Alec and I dined on a healthful churro and I enjoyed a soda—all for $1.66. On the way out the door, that gusty wind thing blew away the rest of Alec’s churro bites, but he just thought it was funny.
Then the walking started again and I got all sweaty. We stopped in Grocery Outlet and some weird guy lectured me on the benefits of Belgian beer, and some lady said there is no way a 21-month-old can talk. After walking another 15 minutes or so, we were home, and I got the shock of my life. (It was probably the shock of Alec’s life, too.) Our house door was open! And Jody was standing between the door and the screen door, which does not latch correctly. The second she saw us she lunged forward and the screen swung open. I ran toward her, Alec started crying and Jody retreated back into the house. Scared the heck out of me, poor indoor cat.
We arrived just as our mail was being delivered, and Grandma Carolyn had sent Alec a whole bunch of clothes—sweet. (Speaking of grandmas, all day long Alec has been begging to watch the episode of Spot where he helps his grandma clean house. Alec says, “Bot! Gamma!” and he also runs and gets the broom to emphasize the point.

Motion Sickness

I was sitting here stressing about something and decided to throw it out there for the amusement of blog readers--particularly Jane, who laughed at my panic when she insisted I ride B.A.R.T. to visit her in Oakland a few years ago.
I need to take a bus to an interview on Friday, and I'm scrutinizing the routes and my heartbeat is quickening as I worry: What if the times are wrong? What if I get on the wrong bus? What if it doesn't stop when I pull the thingie? How do I get back? What if I don't have the right amount of money, or make some kind of bus-riding faux pas?
I went through the same thing when we took an airplane last month: What if we go to the wrong terminal? What if they question my identification? What if we look like a security risk? What if I have to go No. 2 in one of those tiny bathrooms? The list goes on and on. The threat of terrorists on a flight from Reno to Phoenix doesn't bother me at all, but omygawd what if we don't make our connection and have to sleep in the airport?
Yes, I'm crazy.

Croc-offs

 
 
Who would have thought that such ugly shoes could be so cute on a little boy? Our family has joined the ranks of soccer moms and secure-in-their-masculinity men who sport Crocs or Croc look-a-likes such as the ones we got Alec from Payless Shoe Source yesterday. They were on sale for $7.99, and it was a good investment--he wants to wear them all the time. He says, "Shoes, shoes. Blue, blue." (I think he repeats everything he says because that's what I've alway done when trying to teach him new words.) 

Don't Talk to Me; I'm a Celebrity

 
It's funny, flattering and embarrassing: Our local chapter of Big Brothers Big Sisters has convinced me to run for "Big Celebrity." This will involve a lot of work, mainly in the area of fund-raising. (Whomever raises the most money in their category wins. I'm going up against someone in local radio and someone in TV) The campaign, which starts July 27, will culminate Oct. 7 with a formal event titled, appropriately enough, the "Big Event."
I was asked to run a few years ago when I was an editor at a different publication. But this time I can't pass it up--I and the publication I work for need the exposure. And, of course, it's for an excellent cause.
This will also serve as the impetus to get off the "hey I just had a baby" gravy train that I've been riding for the past, oh, 21 months and drop some serious poundage. Gotta fit into a sexy dress. This is going to be scary!
I'll let everyone know when my campaign Web site is up so you can donate mass bucks. 

Independent Thoughts

 

On this Independence Day, rather than focusing on all the things that are wrong with this country, let's give a nod to what's right about it: the Alleycat! We went to the park for the big Fourth of July whoop-de-do, but missed out on whomever was passing out the little flags. Now, it's nappy time. 

It's Jose Canseco's Fault

We went out the the local Chico Outlaws game tonight, but it was jammed-packed (4,500 people) because former Major Leaguer/steroid dude Jose Canseco was playing on the opposing team, the San Diego Surf Dawgs. We didn't get to the stadium until the sixth inning, because Alec had taken an impromptu nap after going hog-wild at Barnes & Noble and exhibiting symptoms of a cold and/or teething. We went straight to the playground, and Alec leisurely went about climbing, unaware that he was about to be trampled. Some girl who looked about 11 knocked him over, and some crazy-mom voice coming out of my mouth said, "Hey! You just knocked my baby over. You're too big to be in here anyway, according to the sign." Later, I saw her pointing me out to her dad. I'm sure crazy-mom version of Devanie will only get worse from here on out.
Alec loved the fireworks, but we covered his ears on the loudest one. I got him a game ball and player #30 from the Surf Dawgs signed it and Tom wants Alec to have it forever for a souvenir.

Calico for Dinner?