Sunday, March 13, 2011


Our lil BHB is almost 2. I can't believe it. If you have a new-ish baby and you're reading this, let me be the 412th person to tell you this 'It goes so fast!'.

Are you annoyed? I sure was.
But, holy crap, it goes so fast! Hold on, wait, that's not true. The first 6 months took about 6 years. 

But since then, it's been blazing by in a blur of sweet and firsts and 'oh I should write that down' or oh I should blog about that'. But there are no lack of pictures my friends, the boy is documented at the very least in photographic evidence. Here are a few recent goodies:

Kale smoothie
ASL - the letter V. Or peace.
In other news...

I don't know about you, but my heart and brain are just breaking apart the last few days with the news of the Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan. That event is the true meaning of devastation, and I never know what to do with the overwhelming feelings that crowd my synapses at times like this. It's such a mix of unreasonable sadness and helplessness and the weird relief that distance provides. Although living in LA which by all accounts is 'next' when it comes to anyone's guess for earth shaking disaster zones isn't exactly providing much in the way of 'thank god that's not us'. Cause it so totally-ottally could be and likely in our lifetime will be.

So there's that. 

In recent months I went into a power scramble to get our 'kit' together and did a pretty good job of making it happen thanks to this place and this site and of course the cute hubs who just totally obliged my freaked out state of mind. And that feels somewhat better. But. When I watch the footage of that horrifying blob of water creeping across the land makes me wonder what the heck our collection of  bottled water and snacks and bandaids will do in a moment like that?  I shudder when I say, 'Oh, not much'.

Being a parent just really puts a giant amplifier on these types of moments, doesn't it? The fears and sadness the 'whelming empathy I feel for those families come from a place that's so different now. Being the one who that tiny laughing boy with the big eyes counts on just makes me feel so responsible and useless at the same time.

Like tonight I want to sleep under his crib so that if the earth moves even the tiniest bit I can grab his little sleeping body and somehow be good enough to save him from whatever the hell is going to happen. Guess what? I can't do that now, nor will I be able to do that when he walks to school alone and has to cross the street where there are big trucks that are driven by dudes with big egos and big addictions or when he wants to skate around town with his ipod and knit hat pulled down over his eyes, or when he becomes a pilot or when he...ok, you get the idea.

So I guess the best I can do is enjoy his little snore and be grateful for the running water (hot even!) and for the safety of my loved ones and the bed that beckons and even the loss of an hour due to random time scrambling.

I just want to say that my deepest sympathies are with you Japan and your beautiful people, I am so very sorry for your losses and continued troubles. I cannot begin to know.


PS - If you need some cheering up with some deeeelicious foodstuffs, be sure to drop by this blog. My friend and a supporter of our movie cooks and writes these amazing recipes up, I'm so going to cook the current recipe for our own warmth and cheer and try to figure out how to ship it across the sea.


  1. good one, honey...
    when i'm frustrated with some moment of 'non-compliance' from my boy i use some of the same logic - like i'd rather be dealing with him jumping out of his crib 50 times in an hour at 9 pm than be worrying about him out cruising with his teenage friends...and i'm sure i'll have some other rationale device in place by the time that happens...
    feeling like prayers are inadequate for the situation in Japan...
    love to you

  2. If I admitted how often I think about disasters you'd probably call the authorities. I have a particular hang up about (bear with me here) if things got so bad that the streets were lawless and we survived but society was in total decay and we had to forage for necessities. I actually have moments of panic because I don't know how to tan a hyde or start a fire with nothing but twigs and broken eyeglasses.

    I can't even face the totality of the devastation in Japan. It crushes me. And I agree with Courtney, prayers are inadequate for Japan but I don't know what else to do.

  3. Hey I just wanted to say hi and thanks. I'm the woman who saw you at Whole Foods a few weeks ago. I recognized you because I had postpartum depression too, and found your posts about it to be wonderfully comforting. So thanks!

    I'm over at (not in my profile).

  4. I agree with you so much about Japan. It is heartbreaking and overwhelming. Yes, when our homes are totally destroyed, there's not much we can do. Although I think for my family about the medium quakes, aftershocks and what I can do. My decision was to get furniture straps. After being in quakes, when it hits it's hard to move. And if one of my children or grandchildren are in front of a falling tv or china cabinet, they could be crushed. So, I hope that helps everyone think of all possibilities. Thank goodness for more people preparing as best we can.

  5. I have to admit I'm a person who worries a lot. The devastation in Japan was horrible when it happened but the worst part is that people are still suffering and worrying about the nuclear power threat.