Celtic festival and the return of the stroller

"May the sons of your daughters smile up in your face."

Men in kilts are fun!

So it's that time of year again when the bagpipes, kilts, and knee highs come out to play. This past weekend, Milo and I joined ma mere at the Celtic Festival, celebrating all things...celtic.  I decided to break out the stroller for this event.  Milo hasn't been so much interested in this contraption in -oh, I don't know- well over a year and a half or so.  Once he got his sea legs, he felt there was no need to sit in a moving chair.  Mr. Independent, pfft.  And when I was putting it in the car he says, "Mommy...(with a look of confusion on his face)...what's that?"

"It's your stroller."

"Oh, stroller..." (still confused)

But it quickly became his "safe place" when all the festivities became a little too festive...

"I"m just going to sit here and watch all the drunk people in skirts parade around..."

"Grandma!  This band is LOUD.  But I'm strangely drawn to it..Can anybody tell me where the Blarney Roses grow?"

 

How about I just shoot the beer cans on the ground?  Pow Pow!

And now...ever since I brought out the stroller, it's become a new fixture in our living room...

I think it's adds that little something, don't cha think?



a beachin' moment

Heavy clouds, cool breeze, but we take to the Bay anyways



just us: watching nature: watching us: just nature



 "Oh no, Storm coming!"



And then the rain blew stronger and the wind came hard.  We packed up our blanket and toys, joined the dog walkers, strolling new mamas, and teenagers -finding our way back to a covered spot.  And then suddenly...

A full bridge rainbow...settled over the Bay.  The rain had stopped as suddenly as it began.



and it was beauty-full



and it made us wet-happy



20/20: halfway to the endzone

Cravings:

emotional stability

husband to come home from that submarine floating around somewhere in the Pacific

to sleep past 0630 w/o a 4am bladder call

more laughter

dinner cooked by my mom

bare feet in the sand daily

Aversions:

judgemental, passive agressive, bullying, cigarette smoking, yelling obnoxious robe wearing in the middle of the street/day, evolving-down neighbors

touchy feely/nosy/intrusive dumb-question asking strangers

dreary rainy days

people who say, "Man, you look tired!"

flat tire when you're alone with a 2 year old and PREGNANT and noone comes by to help you

19 weeks, 5 days

Oh, how handsomes is HE?!  Yes, he does have an ear.  Junior is using the placenta as a pillow.  The tech can fade that image out to get a more complete face shot, but it makes his ear look disfigured.

Footsies, crossed at the ankle.  Looks like he might have his mama's arch.



Little man was quite the mover during this appointment.  Actually he's quite the mover and shaker pretty much through out the day.  He kept moving away everytime the tech tried to get a good face shot.  I think she did a pretty good job! 

I just noticed that to the left of his face it looks like a puppy is trying to lick him.  Funny.


Another appointment where all is lookin' good!  (relief sigh).   This will probably be the last time I see him while in utero.  Next time I see this little guy will be on his birthday! In about 4.5 months!

19 weeks: crazy invasion

I'm feeling good.  My skin has cleared up, my hair is super thick, my boobs are huge (for me at least), and I'm feeling many a movement of a tiny, tiny human in my 2nd chakra.  Which, incidentally, is about relationships.

Nudge, sliver, roll...fishtail!

But I'm feeling more emotional this time around.  Or maybe I just don't remember feeling so labile whilst pregnant with Milo.  But I know enough not to buy into the negativity.  The anxiety, the sadness, the anger -they come out of nowhere sometimes.  And, of course, over nothing.  Like the other day, at the grocery store, I'm looking through the mounds of cheese -from the deli to the free-standing -trying to find Gruyere.  And I'm feeling like I lost my home in a hurricane.

 Overwhelmed, devasted, disappointed, lost, helpless. 

You know, totally congruent to the situation.

Once I find the block of cheese I see just how expensive Gruyere is. I feel my eyes watering as I comtemplate how important this quesidilla recipe is.   After a minute of self-to-self conversation about how I waste too much cheese, do I really need a fancy pants dinner for one, I wish Milo would eat cheese, why can't I buy a $12 block of cheese, what if I use it all week. I could make up some other recipes to use it in.  I'd get sick of it, for sure.  $12 really?  Oh, look the smoked Gruyere is cheaper.  Probably for a reason.  I don't even like smoked Gouda.

What the FUCK Gruyere!

I push my cart away rolling my eyes at myself.  I abandon the Gruyere and the fancy recipe that it comes with. My mom's voice comes to me, "You can always put chedder on the quesidilla, for god sake."

I'm angry at all the frozen boxes of food.  I'm angry that I'm even looking at them. I'm disgusted by all the raw meat.  I'm disappointed at the limp produce.  (I'm obviously not in a Whole Foods store).

And then there is a shift.  By throwing an all natural, organic lemongrass and sage deodorant into my cart I receive a renewed sense of power. Of purpose.  Like suddenly I've transitioned my life, butterflied this action into a better ozone.   A better self.

I take out the shampoo, conditioner, hand soap, face wash, astringent and night cream that I had thrown into my cart and I replace them all with organic, all-natural products.
I start contemplating creating a compost heap. I'm going to start cleaning my windows with vinegar and water!  For shame the over-priced toxic cleaning products littering space under my kitchen sink!

And then I buy Borax, baking soda, distilled white vinegar and lemons.

As I'm driving through the base (I shopped at the commisary on an Air Force Base) every car is pulled over to the side.  I turn my music down (playing Joni Mitchell, Court and Spark, of course) and I hear the sounds of The Star Spangled Banner.

The entire base is vibrating with patiotism.

"...from sea to shining sea..."

FUCK YEAH AMERICA!  I'M DOING MY PART!!

On my way home I call my husband and go on about how borax is going to revolutionize how we sanitize, disinfect and beautify this castle of ours.

Later, I call my mom and tell her how I'm going to clean the washing machine. And I'm excited about it.

"Did you know you can make vinegar ice cubes and run through the garbage disposal with cold water for a cleaner disposal!? HOLY SHIT BATMAN!"

I'm sure once they hung up the phone they were rolling, tears streaming...

But you know what? They won't be laughing when they see the sparkle of my floor boards! Or how my toilet shines with a mere baking soda and lemon scrub!

I think I might have entered: nesting.

Crazy, cleaning, green hippy hippy shake shake nesting.

19 weeks,  you're funny.

Ring the Living Bell, ya'll.

33 candles (a brief respite)

Here are a couple of snippets from me celebrating the day of my birth. My birthday was equal parts relaxing, awesome food (The Bombay Club!), an excellent play (Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf), great weather, and KID-FREE!

This is what 2 people look like as they are checking into a fancy pants hotel without a 2 year old.



How to celebrate turning 33 and being 18 weeks pregnant: Iced latte, tiramisu, and a homemade pop tart.  Side note: despite all this sugar, I still took a 3 hour nap later that day.  AND, turns out 18 week old fetus-boy loves him some sugar!  Never felt him so active up until this day!



Good Morning, D.C.



Not a bad view to wake up to: Pennsylvania Ave and 12th.



2 people who have been kid-free for 24 hours.




And, now, back to reality...

Inside the mind of an artist.

This particular piece, done in the medium of crayon on paper plate, forces the viewer to think of the ever growing culture of reality.  Where does yours begin?  Do endings exist?  Recently, Milo has been inspired by performance art.  Perhaps this piece identifies his love of the human figure and it's graceful dance.

Let us take a closer look at the series that he has been working on.  Tentatavely titled, "Muses from Day Care."

Spoon Painting shows how the artist was influenced by the German Expressionists of the early 20th century.  This is a transition piece into post modernism.  Brilliant.

In this piece, Painting with Balls, the artist demonstrates the struggle between the balance of the chaos of the teetering strength of Zen.

 Painting with Craft Sticks is a love story between the rain and the thunder. Does one work without the other? Can thunder function without the fluidity and the softness of rain? Will the rain change it's direction if there is no thunder clap? The artist brings so many unanswered questions with this piece.

Painting with Tractors is one of my favorite pieces.  As the curater of the Milo show, I have struggled with which pieces to showcase.  This particular painting, I've displayed prominately.  The pull of the crossroads.  Do we venture east?  Have I already been north?  What/Whose side are you on?

Milo kept this piece as "Untitled." The artist gives the viewer permission to free associate without prejudice of the artist.  The use of space is paramount.  He purposely leaves the left side blank.  He is always thinking of the claustophobic. I've heard people refer to this classic as "The Bees Knees following it's path."  I tend to agree.

Here Milo taps into the medium of stamping.  It's a classic, yet post modern take on the use of pre-made form.  You can tell by the use of space and the way he went from firm to loose there was a battle.  Perhaps between cowboy and native american.  Perhaps between democracy and capitalism.  The artist leaves it up to you to decide.