snuggle bunny (needs a bath)

I was in a cute local baby store in Newburyport, MA, last weekend, with a friend who's five months preggers, so of course I was pointing out all the stuff she had to get (hooter hider? check). And I saw this stuffed bunny that was familiar in a way I couldn't quite place.

Oh wait... Maya's bunny looked like that once upon a time. White and fluffy... really? Seemingly only for a day, but it must have been longer than that. As far as I remember, since we gave her this "ba ba" for Christmas, she's slept with it every night. She has a habit of chewing and sucking on the noses of her stuffed animals, so that's the most unfortunate looking area, but "Ba ba" is looking pretty worn and most definitely loved all over. (Grey + matted = loved. I think that one applies to moms of toddlers too.) Check him out on the floor in this picture. Maya is hugging her little bunny, with big bunny on deck.





The only place he doesn't go is in the bath with her, though clearly he could use a good soaking.

When I was little, I had Red Bear. I was old enough to remember that, though; I wonder if Maya will still be attached to Bunny by the time she's old enough to create memories with her stuffed pals. My dad brought Red Bear home from a business trip--a little bear dressed in a red coat and hat, like a furry Santa Claus. Does everyone have that comfort object from childhood?

Maya has been taking Bunny everywhere for a while now, then last Wednesday, out of nowhere, she woke up and literally screamed "Baby! Baby! Baby!" Until I grabbed the little sweet-smelling (vanilla, for reals) baby doll that our friend got for her first birthday. She'd never seemed to notice the doll until that very day. She's called it "baby" as I've pushed it upon her (because I like to smell its head), and for like five minutes once she was obsessed with how the eyes open and close. But she must have dreamed about it or something, because since that day, "Baby" has joined the posse. She sleeps with Baby, rides in the stroller with Baby (and Bunny, don't think he's getting left behind--it's just getting more crowded), calls for Baby when she doesn't know where she (the baby--the fake one--geez this is getting confusing to narrate) is. So in the crib at night are Big Bunny, Little Bunny, Lovey (her little animal blanket), Blankie (her big actual blanket), and now Baby. And don't forget Maya; she's snuggled in amidst all her friends.

Never a bad hair day

I just watched my friend's two daughters, ages 5 and 3, get snazzy new haircuts from Snip-Its. I have to admit, that place is pretty awesome. I have always loved haircuts. The first cut I really remember is from when I was six, and I finally convinced my mom to let me cut my hair short. Well, by short I mean like Frodo in "Lord of the Rings." No really, it was 1986 and really did look like Frodo--a curly, rounded kind of mullet. But it was cute, right?

I'm not sure how old I am in this picture (a friend posted it on Facebook, so it's the only one I have of little Sara that's digital), but it's the same cut. Also, note that my mom's outfit is probably on the rack at Anthropologie right about now--yay 80's comeback. 

At some point in the not too distant future, we're going to need to get Maya's first haircut. Her hair in the back is longer than mine right now. It curls up on the ends, so we can get away with a few more months probably. 

She can even rock a full ponytail, and as pieces fall out, it just looks cute and messy in that way that people actually pay money for (like in "About a Boy," when Hugh Grant's character is at the salon getting his hair "carefully disheveled"). I would love to have her hair right now--style, color, everything.

Last week, I got this image on my phone after leaving the gym. When I came home, Anil looked at me at said, "I just worked really hard to braid a 15 month old's hair." Talk about commitment. 

I, however, could use a haircut some time soon. I haven't settled on a salon or hair stylist here. I have hair angst. I loved my stylist in Boston--Kevin. He was the best thing to happen to my hair since 1998 when I figured out how to start to wear it curly. He worked in a salon on Newbury Street, snazziest street in Boston, and I got a better cut and highlights for a lower total price than any place I've found in small-potatoes Charlottesville. I guess Charlottesville doesn't think it's small potatoes, because people must be willing to shell out for higher prices. I guess there's less competition. I even tried a "curly haircut." It was a good cut, but not better than how Kevin used to cut my hair for a less exorbitant fee. The curly cut was jaw-droppingly expensive, and the whole process took like three hours. My hair just doesn't need that kind of attention--its pretty cooperatively curly. So my search continues. Hopefully I'll be off the rebound from Kevin and have found a hair stylist with whom I can make a long term commitment here before Maya gets her first cut.

Till then I'm pretty excited about a brush I bought at Snip Its: the Knot Genie. Last night I started using conditioner in Maya's hair because after her bath, and after I towel it dry, I have to work pretty hard to get some knots out. I have the Skip Hop Hare set, which is just adorable, but using the brush then the comb, then still having to work through knots with the comb, is becoming too tedious. Most nights I end up waddling after Maya on my knees, leading with the comb, trying to get through the back of her hair one more time, as she runs over to grab a stuffed bear or a shoe or whatever else is not right where we're conveniently already sitting. I also got detangling spray for her; I'm assembling my pool arsenal for the summer. I'm so pumped. I have some cute swimsuits, now detangling spray (and I'll probably get another Knot Genie if this one works!), sunscreen, a great water-friendly hat that I got free during my Patagonia days. And two new bikinis for me--a necessity as it's the third incarnation of my body that summer has seen in as many years. There was pregnant Sara, then postpartum Sara, and now back to normal but just not quite the same Sara, of current season. 

I'm not sure how a post about Maya's hair morphed into musings on me in bikinis, but that's probably a good place to stop. I will not be posting a picture to go along with that train of thought quite yet. For now, you'll have to be satiated with my 80's curly haircut. 

a whimper not a bang

I was just catching up on my friend's awesome food blog and realized that she links to my site from hers. With a name like Goodnight Martini, I bet some people click hoping to find tales of gin-infused debauchery, only to find a mommy blog. And not even an active one, at that!

Of all things to prompt me to start writing again, I guess that's as good a reason as any. Comebacks are best made not with a bang but a whimper. Especially when it's a blog about a baby.

After all this time though, I guess Maya officially qualifies as a toddler. She walks like a pro and has a better vocabulary than some college students seem to display, at least in a few essays from my teaching days. Come to think of it, the way she enunciates her words is not unlike an inebriated college student.

After her first birthday, I had a few months of "what am I doing?" angst. I was mired in feeling like I should be writing--like really writing. Like "Antoine you need to get a job job." ('Treme, anyone? HBO?) Whatever that means. But you know what? I just didn't. I didn't make the time. I didn't take the time. And without time, you sure can't write much. Nothing anyone would ever want to publish or pay you for. Instead, I went to the park, went out to lunch, laid on the floor, blew bubbles, met friends for happy hours (that last one usually didn't involve Maya), watched entire seasons of Californication and Shamelss when I realized we had Showtime... you get the picture. Then my angst receded. I started to be okay with the idea that eventually I'd make writing a priority, but apparently not now. S'awright.

On Wednesday, Maya had her 15 month well visit with the pediatrician. She did great, but it involved two shots, so as a reward for the arduous morning, I took us to a local pizza place for lunch. I got two slices of our favorite, tomato, avocado and feta, to go, then proceeded to put the box on top of my car so I could open the door and put Maya in her carseat with both hands, tell Maya that I would probably drive away with it like that (thinking that acknowledgment would be like insurance), then do just that. I got home and realized the pizza was not to be found. Fortunately my mom would move mountains to see her granddaughter for an hour, so bringing us more pizza was no biggie. Later, I looked at my computer screen and confirmed my day-long suspicion that my contacts were in the wrong eyes. My Rx for each eye is just different enough that I couldn't be sure until I tried to read the screen and saw double.

So just know that one reason that I haven't been able to fit writing into my routine is that I'm too busy driving off with pizza boxes on my car and mixing up contact lenses. Apparently it takes all of my brain power to achieve even that level of functioning. Or maybe I just don't care that much to get things "right", in which case, writing this blog shouldn't be such a big deal. It shouldn't be a job job.

After all, does this look like someone who takes life seriously?

sorry to have given you the run around... write around?

Gah... I know, I haven't kept up again. And Maya's probably going to wake up from her nap soon. How people write novels "when the baby naps" is completely beyond me. My quick explanation is that I just keep vacillating between what I want this blog to be. I found it easy and fun to write about myself during pregnancy, but I find it more challenging and a little bit unsettling to write about Maya now. I think it's creepy that someone named "Romeo" follows my blog, and you can't block followers any more, and even if I did, it's useless because surely an even more unsettling number of unnamed people like that can check in any time they want. It's just the reality of the Internet. And I'm struggling with what I'm okay putting up for public consumption. Not just what I want people to know/see about my daughter, but what I think is worth seeing and reading, and what I'm interested in writing.

I keep going back and forth between, "I should just try to write things that'll get published, that I'll get paid for, and keep my life off the Internet" and "But it's nice to chronicle our adventures together (while pretending that no one creepy is out there?), and the more I write informally here, the better chance I have of coming up with something that could actually get published one day." Then I think, if I'm going to commit to the blog, I want to go the whole way. I want to make it search-able from Google. Get myself into the mommy blog network.

It all connects with my general vague angst about what I'm doing about my career, my self that exists beyond being a mom. I'm a little lost on that front. I decided I was going to write as a freelancer, but it's a pretty big ramp-up. I'm still working on it. I'm working on all this.

And yep, Maya is up. Just wanted to leave an update in case anyone is checking! Hopefully I'll figure something out soon.

soundtrack to home

I heard this piece on NPR about a Nashville band (duet) called The Civil Wars, and I'm now obsessed with their album. I was meeting friends for dinner and heard this as I parked, so as I waited, I sat at the bar and downloaded the album to my phone so I wouldn't forget. When I was pregnant, I always had this vision of me hanging around the house with my baby, always playing music. I asked my in-laws for a Bose iPod docking station the Christmas before Maya was born, with this very scenario in mind. And I do use it all the time, but I should play music more. Unfortunately I'm a terrible singer, but I want music to surround Maya as she grows up. And not just me blundering through the itsy bitsy spider as I coax her into a complacent diaper change. So this band will be added to my "Maya" playlist, on heavy rotation, this week.

still life with bunnies

I was going to take this week to "work," which means, or is going to mean: write, and read stuff that'll help me write, then write more, and try to get some of it published. First and foremost, it's also to restart this blog, in the interest of writing stuff that no one can reject. But Maya was sick this week, so my noble goal is being pushed till next week. Sorry :(.

It was Maya's first virus that wasn't just a cold, and she was so sad, she needed both bunnies.

Hopefully we'll be back to this more rambunctious state soon.

And with Maya fast asleep by 5:30 tonight, I'll be going now to watch the past two episodes of Big Love on On Demand. It's the last season, gotta stay on top of it. That's right... I've filled my blogging hiatus with meaningful cultural pursuits. Like HBO.

Maya retrospective

Here's what you missed...

Halloween

Thanksgiving

Christmas

First Birthday!!!

Words to come soon :). Thanks for stopping back by. 

xo-

Sara