Picture Overload

Since I clearly can't find the time these days for a proper post, here are some pics to catch you up on the first few months of 2008 in our household ... I tried to keep them in chronological order, but that fell apart. Blogger isn't the easiest when it comes to uploading large numbers of pics. But you get the idea.

Dustin & Steph: Not deemed suitable for a wedding rehearsal

But they managed to pull off the ceremony without any major mishaps

Cece, Nico & their cousin Andy

Coloring our vernal equinox eggs

The bunny brought some cool treats (and enjoyed the carrot & water we left for him).

Me & the kids

Me & Brandy

Nico & Grandpa Marc

Grandpa Marc & Cece

Two devious dudes

Cece - Rockefeller Center, NYC

Buying her first roasted almonds from a NYC street vendor

Cece & Mom atop the Empire State Building

Shonjoy, Nico & Cece - spring picture day in kindergarten - and one more opportunity for Nico to try on his big sister's snow boots

Are you noticing a trend yet?



Mom & Cece after the show

Sunrise from our hotel room

Her parents' old 'hood

Where Marino & I lived, once upon a time

Nobody does it better than Noodle Pudding!

Stuffed & happy after dinner at Noodle Pudding

My pretty girl in the rain, Central Park - NYC

The Met


Pooped. You were right -- the Met IS big, Mom!

Playing on the "Big" piano in FAO Schwarz, NYC

Cece in Times Square ... she'll be back!

Cece & Jen, Alice's Tea Cup - NYC

Our corner table ... the perfect place for tea & scones on a rainy NYC morning

Relaxing in our hotel room

Dinner with Uncle Michael at Ruby Foo's before going to see Wicked

All geared up for show!

Just a little more sugar ...

Perfect!

Painting at school

Her first carriage ride through Central Park

Strawberry Field

Sweetie pie

Trying on her flower girl dress


Modeling his ring bearer outfit

A book & a firetruck -- recipe for Nico bliss!

Parents' Day at Cece's school





Valentine's Day cinnamon toast


Goofin' upstairs

Like my outfit?


Proud of his haircut

Nico modeling Mom's shoes; Cece modeling her wedding attire

Playin' trains

YOU want ME to take a picture?

Here's a smile for ya.


One more? Here ya go.

Daddy, Cece & Nico

Nico is the backyard


Look, Mom! I found some DIRT!


Beauty


Heading out for her first-ever sleepover

She made these cupcakes entirely by herself.

Too cool. Dig the wand & "murse" Nico's got! :)

Love the shades, kids.


Coloring a picture for Grandpa Marc's 60th birthday


Taking a break from coloring a pic for Grandpa Marc ... 'cause, ya know, climbing on stuff is totally zen for many people ...

Can't Buy Me Love?

I'm beginning to rethink that old adage.

A couple days ago Nico swiped a couple of wooden train cars out of the dollar bins at Target. I hesitated to let him have them, 'cause they practically scream Brain-Damaging-Lead-Paint-Courtesy-of-China, but he was pretty insistent ... and I had more shopping to do ... and they kept him quiet ... so, yeah. Guess who won that one?

(I was hyper-vigilant throughout the store to make sure he didn't put them in his mouth, though. So don't go calling CPS on me, people.)

When we reached the register, I said, "OK, let's put these back. We were just borrowing these."

That's when he activated his Death Grip power.

I asked again, "Come on. Say goodbye to the trains. We have plenty of toys at home."

White-knuckled, he shook his head no and hid the trains behind his back.

After a couple more tries, the cashier just reached across the conveyor belt and scanned them, looking at me as though saying, "Honey, puh-leeze."

"Yeah," I laughed, "I guess we're buying 'em."

Nico continued holding them, one firmly in each hand, all the way home. Even as I laid him down for a nap, he still held on, only letting them slip from him grasp when he was sound asleep. When the flash of my camera woke him a bit he sat up, grabbed the nearest one, and cuddled it to him for the rest of his nap.

So to those who claim that money can't buy happiness, I beg to differ. It'll cost ya a mere two bucks at Target.

Just pics

Halloween pics of Cece the Nurse & Nico the Monkey



Nico's very first trick-or-treat (notice him clinging to me)


























Nico getting the hang of it ...


Walking my little monkey


The puppy on the monkey's back


Chillin', playin' bus

Cece's drawing of her & Jack P.

Devilish boy

Nico's "cheese!" face

Same face, different day

Nico baby

Playin' dump truck

When Cece Met Darwin

At the dinner table tonight, we were all talking about the Walking with Dinosaurs show Marino and Cece recently went to see.

Marino: Remember how loud the show was, Cece?

Cece: Yeah! Mom, it was like, "Roooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrr!" They were so huge!

Marino: What would you do if you saw a live animal that big?

Cece: (Thinks for a moment) Probably kill it.

Jen & Marino: Kill it?!!!

Cece: Yeah, but only if it was a meat-eater.

Marino: Oh?

Cece: Yeah, 'cause we're meat!

The Ache of It

In hindsight, I think I subconsciously imagined having a child to mean that you would, essentially, have a child forever. That is, an infant, a toddler -- perhaps a child as old as five -- would live in my house with me always.

He or she most definitely would not continue to age alongside me beyond kindergarten, only to one day reach adulthood and forge a life apart from mine.

He or she would never be too big or too proud to cuddle against me before drifting off to sleep amidst sweet whispers of, "I love you, Mommy."

Ridiculous as it may sound, it truly only just recently occurred to me that my children won't be children for very long. Cece is already a kindergartener; Nico's hands & feet no longer have that silky, thin-skinned look of infancy. As much as I implore Cece to stop, she and her little brother keep on growing, day after day.

Normally when putting the kids to bed each night, I feel a little anxious for them to drift off to sleep so I can go back downstairs, get a few dishes washed, have a little quiet time to myself before I head back upstairs to bed.

But tonight, as Cece and I lay side-by-side in her princess bed, I hesitated to leave her.

I was consumed with the ever-looming future, as though I could peer through the curtain of time to the day when an all-grown-up Cece leaves our house, when I will be both comforted and heartbroken by the memory of this night, her arm thrown over me, mine over her, our cheeks nuzzling, breath falling into unison.

And I, this perfectly imperfect mother, was completely overwhelmed by the sweet ache of it.

A Memorable Morning

On the way to Cece's school this morning, Cece, Nico and I were driving along, enjoying the beautiful late-summer morning, listening to the radio and pointing out each and every single bus we passed. Nico, for those who don't know, is completely infatuated with all large things on wheels -- particularly buses.

"Look, Nico! A school bus!" Cece would yell.

"Daaaaat!" Nico would shout, as he'd point at and wave to the bus.

About half-way into our 10-minute drive, Annie Lennox came on the radio, singing "Pavement Cracks." The song begins quietly, gradually building in volume and pace up to the chorus. All three of us were bobbing our heads, while I sang and Cece tried her best to listen in and learn some of the lyrics.

By the time Annie got to the second chorus, all three of us could barely be contained by our seatbelts. Neighboring drivers must've thought we were on our way to the new Wiggles try-outs. :)

Cece said, "You know what, Mom? A song can make my bad mood turn into a really happy mood."

And ain't that the truth?

The three of us were buoyed by the hope in Annie's voice coming through the speakers. We were, dare I say, radiant as Wilbur the pig with joy, driving down the road to Cece's second day of kindergarten.

I won't ever hear that song again and not immediately remember this morning, when my children and I were lifted and united in the simple joy of song, the sun shining down on us, the world spread before us.

I wish you well.

WARNING: There is nothing "safe" about Safeway!

For a long time now -- years, actually -- I've been dreaming of baking a batch of brownies on a shallow rimmed cookie sheet.

Why?

Well, because everyone knows that the best part of the brownie is the chewy top. So I surmised that if one were to spread the batter thin, the whole batch would be one big, chewylicious brownie top.

Even after all the plotting, I've never done it, though, because FSM forbid they should come out every bit as delectable as my sweet-tooth-fueled imagination has dreamed, I'd never leave the house again because:

1) I'd be too busy shoving my pie-hole full of those scrumptious morsels;

and

2) I'd soon be literally unable to leave the house after my ass grew to such ginormous* proportions as to no longer fit through the doorways -- even the French double-door out the back!

*Ginormous, by the way, is an actual word now. It was just added to the Merriam-Webster dictionary this year. And all I have to say is It's about fricking time!

But back to the warning.

Just last week I walked into Safeway, my local French grocer (at least when spoken with a fake French accent a la Target/Tar-JAY fashion -- SAFF-uh-WAY), and nearly bumped foreheads with a woman wearing a seemingly innocuous green smock and a welcoming, come-hither smile.

"Would you like to try a sample?" she purred.

Cece (in tow) leaned in and said, "Oh, Mom! Cookies! Can I try one?"

I, not thinking anything of it, said, "Sure, babe."

Green Smock Woman then raised her eyes to me and asked, "One for you too, Mom?"

"Okay," I relented.

I reached to take one for myself and noticed something different about these cookies. The texture was not that of your typical cookie.

That's when I got a look at them.

After years of mere fantasizing, I was holding, in my own hand, a genuine brownie top cookie.

SON. OF. A. BITCH.

I stood there, trembling a tiny bit, gazing at that wondrous achievement.

I paused. Closed my eyes. Took a breath. And took a bite.

And that's when I confirmed beyond all possible doubt that I am, in fact, clairvoyant. Because that brownie top cookie was every bit as perfect as I'd always imagined it would be. It was EXACTLY as I'd dreamed -- and more -- because this cookie was real. This one was in my mouth, not just in my heart.

Cece, enjoying her cookie next to me, said, "Yum! This is GOOD!"

Overwhelmed and unable to speak, I merely nodded and gave her a closed-mouth smile, lest even one tiny crumb escape my lips.

Throughout that shopping trip I had to fight the overwhelming urge to stampede my way back to Green Smock Lady, knock her down, and steal every last cookie she had. It took self-control I didn't even know I had. But I managed to do it.

We paid for our groceries, loaded them up into the car, and left.

I was safe.

Or so I thought.

A few days later I ventured back to Safeway. And by the way, you people who only grocery shop once a week -- or, FSM forbid, once a month! -- are hopelessly robotic and clearly lack imagination & spontaneity.

As soon as I pulled into the parking lot I remembered my beloved brownie tops.

I walked in, my pace quickening in anticipation, but Green Smock Lady was nowhere to be seen. I consoled myself with the reassurance that it was probably for the best. I didn't need those cookies. Yes, I was better off staying away from them. Good.

But that feeling was smashed by the time I reached the middle of the produce section, when Green Smock Lady's voice came over the PA system: "Good afternoon, shoppers. Be sure to stop by the bakery and purchase some of our new Chewy Fudge Cookies. They're just $4.99 a box; take some home today ..." she sneered.

Of course. Like all good pushers, Safeway knows the system: The first taste is free; after that, you've gotta pay.

They'd given me my freebie and hooked me good, and they knew it.

And so, since those cookies are the crack to my Whitney, and since I've never heard of a pusher who's voluntarily gone out of business, Safeway is now anything but safe.