Her First Concert

We took Lolo to her first real, honest-to-God concert, The Sippy Cups.
Just after her mid-day nap, we pre-partied at Starbucks with rice cakes and water, saw the rockin’ show and then hit the pub afterward for chicken quesadillas.

She was pretty much mesmerized by the whole experience especially the physical aspects of the display. They had an aerialist suspended from a hoop doing crazy tricks and later tossed giant inflated balls into the audience.

Pre-partying with "brown rice" rice cakes.

The Sippy Cups

Already a rock star

All she needs is a dance floor

We took an impromptu (kudos to me for allowing spontaneity to be unplanned) trip into the city even though it’s still pretty chilly here to look at a furniture store we’ve been lusting after. Once off the train and subway, we finally made it to the Union Square area in search of lunch before we dove into shopping. Along the way, we found a small, hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant that looked pretty spacious and empty which is key to eating with a toddler. Before our fajita order had made it to the kitchen, Lolo was finished with the lunch I had packed and was ready to roll. Her attention span with high chairs is limited to their actual function. If she’s not eating, she’s not sitting.

I saw signs leading upstairs to their second floor bar which I knew would be deserted at lunchtime. I thought I’d let her burn some energy while we waited for our food. Well, it was her lucky day. There was an entire bar and dance floor at her disposal with leftover St. Patrick’s Day decorations hanging everywhere. Better yet, she could stand on the window sill at the front of the building and watch all the crazy New Yorkers, taxis and bikes pass by. She was in heaven and in her mind, had discovered the real reason for coming into the city, playing at this bar. Who needs museums?

Matt and I traded off watching the bean upstairs while we each at our fajitas alone downstairs. Full of chips and grilled meat, we made our way to the furniture store where it was not as easy to manage the wile gremlin. She managed to terrorize the store for an hour before we decided to abandon ship and head home. We explored two floors of the four floor store but my attention was definitely divided between shopping and thwarting Lolo’s plans of disassembling store displays. Needless to say, she had an absolute blast.

This is her new "smile" for cameras.

High on pure energy and cheap, themed decor.

Canadian Indie Rock Star Wannabe

It’s not a toddler mini-mullet! No! She is simply finding her destiny which is being a Canadian Indie Rockstar … Lolo “hearts” Tegan and Sara.

Listen!

Emanating nutritionally balanced vibes

Last week at the grocery store, I was shopping as usual with Lolo in the cart. We were singing, and I was grabbing things off the shelf for her to play with. As we rounded the corner of the dairy section, a woman approached me apropos of nothing and asked me what healthy meals I prepare each night? Just out of the blue. “Ummm … uhhh.”

I had no idea if she was asking with regards to adults or kids as she didn’t have a 22 lb. bean in her cart. But, I asked a few questions and quickly gathered that she was having trouble making meals for her kids that didn’t involve pasta. So, I threw out a few ideas like quesadillas, meatballs, turkey burgers, soup … and she asked if I bought those things at the store. “You mean do I buy the meat here, or do I buy the prepared burgers here?” She was obviously looking for healthy meals in a box minus the guilt.

Since she cringed when I described how I also add pureed veggies into the turkey burgers, I skipped the spiel on being deceptively delicious and pointed her to some Dr. Praeger’s frozen goodies. But, what made her ask me and not the tons of other moms shopping at 2pm? Maybe I have reached some “om” with food since I know Lolo is imbibing a variety of fruits, vegetables and meats, and I send those vibes out to everyone around me? Or, maybe this woman was hounding everyone in the store and I am just flattering myself.

Nominate me!

If you’ve enjoyed a specific post in the past 30-60 days, nominate me for blogher.com’s “BlogHer of the Week”.

If I am selected from the many nominations, I’ll be featured on the site and may pick up more traffic as a result.

And you know what that could mean? … Nabisco or Herbal Essences executives will want to spend a drillion dollars to advertise on my blog.
And, then you know what that means? … Vats of organic milk and cookies for Lolo, and maybe getting our house painted, too.

Just click here to suggest your favorite post on my blog! It’s really easy, and you’ll feel better about life after having done it.

Silver’s Spells for Protection

Does anyone else do this on a Saturday night?

Matt and I were searching on Amazon last night for a new noise machine for Lolo (to replace the “Sleep Sheep” since it feeds on a steady diet of expensive batteries) when we came across this review of the HoMedics SS-2000 Sound Spa Relaxation Sound Machine.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Pretty Good Sound Machine, February 10, 2009 By T. Heslin It is a good sound machine to sleep with. Drowns out noise good. I like the rain sound when I am sleeping. My only complaint is there is a green light on the top front of it that stays on when the machine is on. The green light is bright and lights up the room. I prefer to sleep in a dark as possible room. Why would they put a bright light on a machine that you are supposed to sleep with? Makes no sense to me. I covered the light with two layers of electrical tape which got rid of it. It doesn’t look good with electrical tape on it but the room is dark again. I deducted one star because of the light. Otherwise I love it.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Maybe it doesn’t take much to entertain us anymore, but we were drawn to T. Heslin’s way with words. So, we looked up other products he or she had reviewed and came across this gem about an actual book of spells. Enjoy!

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

It Worked For Me, December 14, 2008 By T. Heslin I am amazed at the results I got from this book. I was having some problems with people from work. I used one particular spell in this book three different times on three different people, over a period of a couple years. I used it on people who were trying to hurt me, lying about me, etc. These were bad dishonest people, while I was always good to everyone. It worked not only once, but every time I did the spell. I was surprised how well and quickly it worked. When I moved I got rid of all my books, and I just now ordered another copy of this book (it’s got a different cover now), because I want to do the spell again, but don’t remember it very well. I am hoping and confident that I will get great results from it again.

Tea Party Results

A little overwhelmingly Jersey but completely innocuous.

As the day of the tea party drew near, my neighbor and I seriously wondered if our ladies night out was connected to the nationwide movement of tea parties taking place on 2/27 to protest the stimulus bill. But, we just couldn’t believe that someone would try to sneak in a political statement on unsuspecting women primed for cheesecake and tiramisu. On the other hand, it just seemed to be too much of a coincidence.

We decided to forge ahead and agreed to tug on our left ear if one of us felt the need to prematurely bail.

Our fears of being the only attendees were quickly erased when we arrived at the house to meet 15 other women already eating their cake. It was just a ladies night out. A meet and greet of genial neighbors with no strings attached. Nothing was sold or bought and no petitions were signed. Just nice women who really like their block. All in all, I am glad I went aside from the fact that I was cornered the whole time by our resident gossip hound who talked about her dog for 40 minutes.

I even brought home a piece of cake for Matt.

Intrigue on the block

Shades of Wysteria Lane*. I’ll take the intrigue where I can get it.

I received a random invitation in our mailbox yesterday for a “Ladies Night Out” from a neighbor way up the street that I have never laid eyes on before. It says it’s a casual get-together for the women on the block over coffee, tea and dessert, and it starts at 7:30.

My thoughts are:
A. She is probably a decade or two older than me simply because I haven’t eaten dinner before 7 pm since I was 7 years old. And, dessert is to be guiltily inhaled at 10pm whilst watching “The Real Housewives of Orange County”
B. She asks for an RSVP to her AOL email account. Need I say more?
C. It’s a ploy to raise money for a charity or to sell her homemade jewelry.
D. There is no alcohol. Need I say more?

My hip mom neighbor called me and asked if I was going. I told her I was only going if she was chained to my side and I had 2 glasses of wine prior to walking down the street. She agreed that it would at least make a great story and that we should leave our wallets at home in case we’re asked to contribute to the Poor Chimpanzees of Antarctica fund or worse yet, purchase Tupperware.

*Disclaimer: I am only able to reference Wysteria Lane because the Desperate Housewives were frequently featured in US Weekly when I was a proud subscriber. I have never seen the show … for more than 2 minutes. Honest.

This means I’m past prime time

I’m officially old. We bought a Wii fit, and I joined Facebook (against my will).

1. If I am brave enough I will post a video of me doing the hula hoop with the Wii Fit.

2. What is the point of Facebook?

Granted, I have been on Facebook for all of 10 minutes, but I feel like all the people I want to be in touch with already have my contact information. Does it make me a snob to not want to see what the football star at my high school is doing now? I’m certainly not going to “friend him” and ask what he’s been doing for the last 20 something years. Besides, I can barely remember the names of the moms in Lolo’s music class. And, this networking program wants me to look up people in my high school chemistry class? I can see their faces clearly, but dammit if I can actually remember their names. I’m sure I am rushing to judgement and will soon be addicted, but for now it escapes me. That is, until the snotty cheerleaders from my high school start contacting me about how they wish they knew me more way back when … because I was so much cooler than they ever were.

Birthday girl

I am so "1"

I couldn’t have made this up if I tried.

I intended to post a picture of the stitches on my foot this week as I was supposed to have surgery to remove my ganglion cyst Thursday.

While I did have some (a lot of) jitters, I was entirely set to go under the knife. I fasted for 12 hours and was up at 5:30 am to be at the outpatient center by 6:30 with my post-surgery boot in hand. I was led around by a nurse, asked to change into the requisite gown and then shuffled off in my hospital issued slipper socks. I placed all of my belongings in a plastic hospital bag and sat down for the beginning of my anesthesia drip. They had me set to go and were about to insert the IV needle when the doctor came over to mark the foot that would be operated on. He said, “Where is it?”

Me: “Wha? It’s right there.”

Doctor: “Wasn’t it much larger before?”

Nurse: “I’m not inserting this needle until we’re clear that she’s going under.”

Me: “I guess so. I did accidentally drop a super heavy sippy straw cup on it last week by accident and it hurt like fire for four days.”

Doctor: “Ah ha. I bet you ruptured it and it’s dissipated now. It’s your lucky day because I don’t need to operate on it.”

Nurse: “I’ve never heard of someone being saved from surgery because of a sippy cup!”

I was so happy, I all but ran out with my gown waving in the breeze. The doctor did say it could come back but until then I should live my life cyst-free.

Caught on tape

Keeping up with the Seinfelds

All of a suddenly I have a toddler on my hands.

Last week she took her first solo steps to reach and pet Zoe. Amazing! However, she quickly realized the safety and ease provided by holding onto our hands and walking instead. She’s not shy about latching on and taking you for three laps around the house.

I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s suddenly more independent and ready to test the limits. All of them. (Aside from walking, her new favorite skill is pointing … as in, “I want that over there on that table.”) She knows what she wants, where she wants to go and what she does and DOES NOT want to eat. It could be the fourth molar she’s cutting, but my eager eater is now a lot more discerning. And, while I have only had to struggle with the question of “What will this kid eat that isn’t bread-based?” for a week now, it’s stressful for someone with obsessive tendencies. I could just wait and see if she returns to normal after the tooth arrives, but that’s not me. Why wait it out when you dive in guns a-blazing’ with how-to books, hours of internet research and gadget purchases from the internet.

My new approach is the Disceptively Delicious one. I’ve got a rice cooker/vegetable steamer on the way, and I am stocking my freezer with little bags of vegetable and fruit puree that soon will be hidden in our food. I don’t want to jinx myself, but she ate her first deceptive meal at lunch today which was mac-n-cheese laced with sweet potato and broccoli. On top of that, she willingly ate raisins. Maybe she was on a veggie high, and she couldn’t stop the inertia. Whatever it was, I’m taking it.

My babe

She’s going to be turning a full 365 days old soon, and I’ve been reflecting on the pint-sized being I have with the super-sized personality.

She is my lovie and she makes me stop and laugh every day.

If I were to give her an introduction ala Chuck Woolery on The Love Connection, I would say:
“Lolo is a vibrant 11.5 month-old with a passion for music and food who likes to wear a devilish smile. She loves eating at restaurants, peeking and hiding and discovering little spots where only she can fit, being the center of attention, stuffing eight goldfish crackers in her mouth at once, dancing to the beat and climbing anything higher than the ground. She thinks she looks best in her adorable pajamas.

Oh c’mon.

I braved the additional 1-inch of snow that fell yesterday to go to Target. They have bikinis for sale. It’s 14 degrees.

A new way in which I have to adjust to the “North”

Snow. At anytime. Whenever it feels like it. It’s not a foot or anything. But, it’s enough to rattle someone who grew up at the beach.

Sure, I’m a nervous nelly, and yes, I have lived in the “North” for several years now so I have actually been getting used to the harsher winters.  I get that winter means snow. But, it’s different when you have a car. Getting out in Brooklyn with the white stuff on the ground was no more than a matter of will and the correct footwear.

Now that I have to battle other crazy New Jersey drivers with a metal box on wheels, it’s a whole different story. Growing up in Virginia, any dusting meant that schools were closed for at least a day, if not two. Newscasters would urge anyone who didn’t need to drive someone to the emergency room to stay home and keep the roads clear for the authorities. Thus, I have this definite fear of being out and about and can’t seem to ignore the snow and ice.

Granted, we’re lucky that our township is on the ball with snow removal and road preparation. I just can’t seem to shake the feeling that if 4-inches fall overnight that I will be stuck at home for three days helplessly clutching the last drops of milk left in the carton. Yes, I have a market within walking distance, but what would a good story be without a little dramatic exaggeration?

The hit of Christmas

Do you think Santa would bring me a case of Pedialyte?

We have been back from Christmas break for a week now, but I am just now getting back to normal. Although Lolo didn’t ask for it, Santa brought her the Rotavirus in full force.

Sunday the 21st, severe diarrhea started, and it didn’t wane until half way through the 30th. Count it up people, that’s 9.5 days of insane, unforgiving gastrointestinal distress. She kept up her mood as best she could through it all, but in all reality, she was miserable. I will save you the gore, but it was awful. Bruuutal. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy’s child.

A “stomach bug” had been going around in our area prior to the holidays, so I wasn’t all that surprised that it finally caught up with her. However, the longest it lasted with anyone we knew was five days with the average being more like three days. Needless to say, once the sixth day arrived, I was a certifiable mess.

Along the way, we visited two doctors in VA, practically bought Wal-Mart out of unflavored Pedialyte, fed Lolo Ritz crackers to her heart’s content, and plastered her baby butt with as much zinc oxide as she would tolerate. F-u-n. We also discovered that week that the poor girl was simultaneously cutting three honking molars. Yes, three monster teeth were plowing through at the most inconvenient time.

I rarely made it out of my pajamas, and Lolo changed outfits so frequently that my parents were doing laundry round the clock, bless their souls. She never seemed to have on a matching top and bottom, but really, did it matter? If the outfit wasn’t covered in poo, we were doing alright.

I hit rock bottom with worry several times, I have to admit. I was shooting Pedialyte down my daughter’s throat with a medicine dropper to avoid dehydration and our Christmas vacation seemed to revolve exclusively around poop, forced fluids and bread products.

Upon return to our home base, I had her checked out by our own pediatrician. He looked at me and then at her and then back at me.

“She’s going to be fine. It’s a virus. But, are you okay?” he asked. He even paused as if to give me to opportunity to ask for a prescription myself. Maybe a valium?

The virus ended a day or so after that final doctor’s visit and she quickly took the opportunity to catch up on all the food she missed like yogurt and cheese and then some more cheese.

It was quite a week, and I could not have survived without all the helping hands of my family. So, thank you Mom, Dad and Charlie. You bought the Pedialyte, fetched the diaper creme, and tossed the rancid diapers! In the end, we did manage to have more than a few laughs and pieces of pie so it wasn’t so terrible when you look back.

Mornings with Grandma meant fun treats like cuddling with crackers while watching Blue's Clues.

That lobster must weigh as much as Lolo.

"Hey Grandpa, those baby stingrays kinda freak me out."

A quick trip to Williamsburg for a much needed mind break. Lolo had french fries for the first time.

"I travel nowhere without some sort of carbohydrate snack in my hand. I can't bear to put down this biscuit to crawl through the tunnel. Maybe later."

An affinity for bags.

I don’t know if it’s a natural love of purses that has sprouted in our Lolo, or if it’s an outgrowth of seeing me packing, carrying and using diaper bags consistently, but she’s hooked either way.

It first came up when a mom at one of our playgroups this week brought a small reusable lunch bag that looked more like a miniature shoulder bag. Lolo was enthralled. She wanted to carry it, throw it over her arm and in general, just bask in the “bag-ness” of it all.

Then I gave her a small paper shopping bag that Matt picked up when he bought some shaving cream. You can see in this video how the act of putting it on her arm is what makes it all so magical for her. It’s what makes a bag, a bag. (Just ignore the radio in the background.)

How do I manage to complicate things so …?

This is the complicated way to avoid getting a real Christmas tree. I don’t know how I manage to make things more complicated than they need to be in my specific quest to simplify. But, I do it consistently, and I do it well.

I didn’t want a big Christmas tree this year even though it will be Lolo’s first. In my defense, it would only be up for a week before we left town, and I didn’t want to spend that week vacuuming tree needles and convincing Lolo that it was not for eating.

I wasn’t a complete scrooge, I just wanted a tabletop tree. So, sue me. Matt wanted a full fledged tree but didn’t have the energy to protest especially since he knew I would be the one on the front lines wielding the vacuum.

The weekend after Thanksgiving, we took a trip to Home Depot in search of the family tree. However, because it was the first weekend after the holiday and we didn’t make it to the store until Sunday afternoon, the supplies were more than low, they were non-existent. They did not have one tree that was under 6-feet tall. And, the ornamental shrub trees they had were only suitable for sitting on your front porch railing.

Fast forward to the next weekend. We sought out Lowes this time figuring their poor store location may lead to more tree selection. And, we played it safe and went on a Saturday morning. Again, no luck. We seemed to always be 10 minutes behind a group of fanatical tabletop tree shoppers bussed out from the city searching for their perfect studio apartment tree. Our only options were three pathetic “tabletop” trees that looked like branches cut from larger trees that were stood on end to look like something that was worth $20. Buuuuuuut … there were also three “holiday spruces” that were meant to be planted outdoors. (Yes, they were giant shrub trees.) My idea was to buy an outdoor planter and bring the “tree” in for a week and then plant it outside after the holiday. We could dress it up, put lights on it and then have a living tree after all was said and done.

We didn’t think we had any other options. Time on Lolo’s good shopping cart mood was running low and there was no way we could make it to Home Depot without a meltdown. So, we went with it. I also bought a 17-inch plastic spill tray that would catch the water overflow when I watered the tree indoors.

Really, if you think about it, I was being incredibly environmentally friendly. Renewable Christmas tree shrubs are the way of the future. Just you wait, you’ll see Cameron Diaz and Leo DiCaprio doing it in US Weekly next year.

Later that afternoon just as it was getting dark, I decided to transfer the tree to the planter and bring it indoors. It’s fun planting a giant shrub tree in wooden planter in the dark when it’s 20 degrees out. Really.

Matt and I hauled it in while Lolo watched from her high chair. We placed it on the plastic saucer that would catch the draining water and the wooden planter just smashed it. The outer edge of the planter was at least 6-inches wider than the 17-inch dish. And, no, I didn’t check to see if the dish fit the planter beforehand. That’s far too logical.

(Sidenote: Matt had to run out while Lolo was napping earlier that day to get soil to plant the tree and wouldn’t you know it … Home Depot had a plethora of small trees ranging in size, shape, price, beauty, astrological sign, etc. They couldn’t have had more of a variety of small trees.)

In the end, we have a lighted tree and a good story of Lolo’s first Christmas.

Oh, lighted shrub.