Flash of Genius

Our son is a genius, I mean - it's the only explanation.

I mean, sure he isn't walking or talking or anything stupid like that. Oh no, that would be weird. But! He's a problem solving hero and let me explain...

As you know, we live in LA. It's pretty and sunny here. It's sunny and we drive alot. We drive alot and the boy hangs out facing the wrong way. Toward the sun.

Which is totally donkey, but safe.

So I've tried some of those ridiculous window shades n' shizzle but they were plastic and lame and broke. And sure, I could get the ole Prius tinted in the window department, but uh, who's got tinting your window money? So I wind up doing really safe maneuvers like reaching over the back seat with my right arm and creating a tiny sliver of shadow with my closed fingers for Mr big blonde head who can sometimes be found thrashing from side to side to escape the relentless sun.

But! Recently I had one of those lil muslin blankets back there and got the bright idea to hold it up to shade him (don't worry, completely safe) and I was prepared to do this today when I traversed town in the west to east direction at the exact wrong time - ie sunset. But lo and behold, I looked behind me and this is what I saw. I won't say who the photographer is for this, I just repeat that it was completely safe.

He's holding the blanket up to shield his own eyes. When I saw it, I got a little misty.

So am I right? He's a super genius? I mean the guy isn't even one year old and he solved this problem like a complete champ and then left his hand mit-blanket up until we were clear of the sun. My husband would say that it's a result of all of the fish oil he gagged me with when I was preggers, and who knows? Maybe he's right. But geee-ross.
And then the poor kid gets fish oil in his apple sauce every morning. I mean, seriously gag me with a spoon right? Yes we do, gag him with a fishy apply spoon. Of course he thinks it's delish.

I've started singing this song to him: (to the tune of Spiderman)

Apple Fish
Apple Fish
Every baby loves apple fish
WATCH OUT!
There's fi--sh in your apppple sauce.

I know, it's ridiculous. And it makes us all really happy. The hubs loves it especially, he loves all of the inane songs I have made up for this kid. He's the musician and songwriter in the family, but so far I've written the tunes that are incredibly catchy like the original number:

'What do you say, super bean?" (there are several verses for this song, it was invented on our long road trip to Seattle)

or

The song I wrote when the boy was in his 'just watching' phase.

Everything he does is FAS-CIN-ATING,
everything he does is swell
Everything he does is AHH-Mazing,
he's the Daddy you can tell.
'Cause, Everything he does is FA-AHNtastic
everything he does is neat..
everything he does is SUPER-duper
he's the Dad he doesn't eat meat'.

I know, I know.
It's so good.

Ok, now that I've slipped into the utterly ridiculous land that I have, let me march deeper in and tell this story on the hubs. Because he is cute.

He recently came home from an event where he learned more about a particular brand of fish oil (gag). He was pretty excited about the flavor and the brand and wanted me to be the guinea pig because he clearly knows how much I enjoy taking this stuff. (gag). So he says something about it being apple flavored which of course I think he's kidding and kee-rack up about it because in my mind I'm already singing..

Apple Fish
Apple fish...

But he's looking annoyed.

Hubs: Oh yea, that's so hilarious.
Me: Um, yea, it is actually.
Hubs: So anyway, the apple flavor completely masks the fish taste...
Me: Oh no, you're serious.
Hubs: (more annoyed) Yes!
Me: The fish oil is flavored with apple?
Hubs: Yes!
Me: And you don't see what's funny?
(blank look)
Me: (singing)
Hubs: Oh my god.
Me: You seriously didn't think about that?
Hubs: No.

What follows is my laughing til I peed (not that this is a shocker, can I get an amen Momma's?) and landed on the kitchen floor and him laughing along - yes - but clearly not as hard. I'm not sure if this story is funny to anyone else, it just makes me squeal with laughter to think about how he listened to an entire evening of conversation about apple fish oil and didn't think about our morning ritual. But I digress, as I often do.

Back to the boy genius. I guess what's blowing me away is not only the problem solving aspect of what occurred today, but also the self care and the evidence that - yes - someone is completely home and thinks for himself and things are really starting to cook with gas in that big head. The fact that he can shovel food into his own mouth with his tiny hands (boy he does enjoy the yams people), he can drink out of his own sippy cup, that he can motor around and get himself into and out of precarious situations. That he figured out how to STAND UP on his own, (he's not getting any encouragement from me on that one). But how does it happen? It's so freakin' miraculous.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised because I consider people who have a good sense of humor to be smart. And we have big laughs all the time.  I personally think his humor is sophisticated, but I guess I'd have to admit that it's more likely that mine is super simple and juvenile. Tonight he almost fell over in the bath tub when I did the 'turtle appearing over the side' trick, it just killed.  'Cause there's really nothing cooler than sharing a laugh with a tiny boy who only a year ago was still swimming around in my belly.

I mean the genius baby who was in my belly, who made an appearance on the planet in early April. I'm so excited to celebrate him in a few days, afterall - he's loosing 'infant' status. Wowee.

Wordless Wednesday: Man On a Mission Edition

Not my proudest photography moment, but you know, it's happening fast. BHB learned himself how to crawl! Last Saturday friends, January 23rd. So. Here we go...

Yours from the fast lane,

Liar, Liar

Night # 3. I put him down at 7pm. He cried for four minutes.

(space for emphasis!)

I checked in a bit later and found that he is doing his usual starfish impression with the flung out arms and adorable peaceful face. Not a peep since.

So dear friends, needless to say, I've joined the ranks. I'm a believer. He's learning a new skill, and doing a freakin' great job. Clearly all of the fish oil that cute hubs gagged me with is working. Our son is a genius.

I thought you people were lying. No offense, but I really didn't believe you when you said that it's not just selfish people wanting a life back (I mean, how rude!) but it's better for the child. You said, Jane not only is it better for you, but guess what? better for you is better for the child and he's got a skill for life, blah blah blah. I thought y'all were mean-spirited cry-lovin' people and you were all trying to make me into a baby terrorist.

But now, I'm an evangelist for your team. I mean, four minutes? Really? God bless him, I do think he's happier. I used to feed him all the way to sleep, now he doesn't have to wake up :40 minutes to burp.  Or wake up going 'Ok. I don't think I drank that  much, but last I remember I was in her arms and it was warm and now I'm in this crib, wtf wahhhhhhhhh!' God forbid it was looking like beginnings of a black out drinker. I just saved him from hours of life not having to go 'Hi my name is...'

The first night after I wrote the last post, skeeeroll down if you want to see what I"m talking about, turned out to be a pretty rough night. I stayed up typing to you to give him the preemptive 11:30 feeding, went great, he went right back down. Bed at 12. I was planning to feed him again around 3:30 to avoid the usual 4:30 or 5 feeding. It's the way the pretty ladies at sleepy planet recommend you wean night feedings: wake him up an hour before he usually eats. Feed him some. Slowly each night make it less and less, then you're done. We'll see, but so far, so good. I gotta say, I kinda want to make out with these chics. Not in a hot MLF on MLF kinda way, in a OMG you've just saved my life kinda way.

Back to the action. Unfortunately he beat me to the preemptive 3:30 feeding and woke-up and cried at 2:30. So. We did the routine. Check in at 5 minutes. Check in at 10. If he stops crying for longer than :30 seconds wait to start a new round. Moral, it was 45 minutes of this. Then I had to wait for 15 more minutes to make sure he was back down to go back in and wake him back up to feed. Did that feel broken? Yes. Poor guy just got back to sleep and I'm in there bugging him with a boob.

But! He fell right back to sleep and slept very peacefully til 6:30.

However I did not. I could not get back to sleep. Could not, no way, not happening. So, on night one I got 2.5 hours of sleep altogether. But! if last night (only 20 minutes of half-hearted protest and no problem going down both times I woke him to feed) and then this four minute magic tonight have any bearing on my future...I think it will clock in as fawking worth it.

But we'll see. Ebbs and flows. Teeth will come. Sleep will go. Illness will come. Peace will go. But you know what? I think I just got out of baby jail. I can hire a babysitter and go out after 7. I feel like a blinking stumbling hostage who wandered into the sun with just a little bit of rope burn and a silly big grin of freedom. My nights! Are back! Ahhhhhhh maaahhhh god!

Thanks again for your support y'all. It is truly, totally, utterly helpful.

PS - He doesn't sleep on our bed anymore- he's a crib lovin' dude. And the blanket is not over his face, I swear. In fact, here's the close up:

PPS - How cute is this?

PPPS - He's starting to cry right now. Drat. This is the result of the gloat, karma moves fast.

PPPPS - It's not a cry, it's a little coo-ing whimper. Hmmm, now what? Damn I wish I had a video monitor.

About a Boy

Okay! This is the best of them so far, don't y'all think? My obsession with naming my posts movie titles has sent me into the dark abyss of writer's block a few times. However, clearly this one is a total winner if I do say so myself...

So let's talk boy:

1) He's a laughing machine.

For some reason we've seen an odd yet delicious little joy spurt right before bedtime the last few nights. Anything, and I mean ANYTHING we do is freakin' hilarious. As a once comedian I can tell you workin' for an audience that easy is noteworthy. It's like being the 4th comedian out of 10, everyone is 1.5 cocktails in and you're hi-freakin-larious. Your teeth are white and your jokes are hitting. Which is why, I love this guy.

2) He's a sweetheart.

I wonder if you can really tell what you've got in the way of a new family member when he's only in the 6th month of a life? I must say thanks to the gathered evidence, I'm feeling uber hopeful. I recently talked to someone who commented on his sweet spirit and I said something like 'Oh yea, we'll see' and she gave me a little head tilt like 'You're odd' but then said reassuringly. "You know who he is, you do." It was a little poke of poignancy actually. So what I do know is that he's a sweetie-pie-lovey-faced angel-breath-of-a-boy. Totally. Which is another reason why, I love that guy.

3) He has no intention of crawling anytime soon.

Or so I think. Is it wrong to hope for this trend to continue? I meet a super cute family tonight with a stoopid cute kid who is 15 months old. They told me that he didn't walk until about a month ago (quick math, 8 more months of no walking? Oohhh, sounds good...) AND he apparently didn't crawl until a week before he walked. For my money they hit the jackpot, and I told BHB so. I whispered into his wispy little blonde hair-do 'Walking is whatev's. Crawling is creepy. Let's stay here in the banchee scream and roll around on the rug phase for a long, long time'. Karma says I'm going to be reporting on his walking status in a month. Praying for a Not on that one. But he's taking his time now, which is another reason why, I truly love this guy.

4) He's ready to eat solid food.

And this won't surprise you, I'm not ready for him to. Either I am one lazy chic or I'm terrified of change or fill in the blank with your own judgmental thought here. ______________
Whichever one we go with I'm going to just have to get over it and serve up some mush. I have been waiting for him to hit every single marker which is:

a.. Sits up. (He almost does, but not without something to lean on or a faceplant follows in short order)
b. Doubled his birth weight. (Done and Done - we're 3 + pounds up from there)
c. Looks interested in food. (He's watching me eat as rabidly as my dog does. Between the two of them I feel like the star of a reality show while just trying to eat a damn sandwich)
d. Losing the extrusion reflex. (Well, I don't really know about this because I'll have to put something in that little mouth to see if he pushes it right back out. But seeing as how excited he gets to eat the little teething tablets that I ply him with I'm guessing he's down for some swallow action.)

Thankfully I know a super fabulous and sweet Momma who is damn savvy about food mushing and I'm going to take a class from her soon to gain some confidence and skillz. Plus I shouldn't be afraid because that milestone will provide some awesome comedy and fantatic photo opps. Which is why, I will still love that guy, even when he's eating and flinging veggie mush.

I'm sure there's more numbers of things I can say about a boy. As you've likely noticed, he's pretty a magical little guy. By the way, I get that this is such a 'Girlfriend needs a baby book' post but thanks for staying with me. Sure do love you for coming by.

Teeth

If you don't know about this movie, check it out.  (title of post) Hubs and I saw it at Sundance a few years ago, it's a quirky and dark film that was quite controversial. Here's the thing. I don't enjoy your basic gore n' horror films at all, not one tiny bit. Sorry. But! strangely I did like this film. The college trained feminist in me actually went for this crazy lil film about a woman who discovered she had a superpower that was, um, unnatural and set her up for a successful and apt revenge against a man who raped her. I will also say that the hubs was not having it one bit. Hated it as I suspect most men do. I'm going to make you click away to find out any more details about it because once again I've spent a paragraph justifying the title of my post and let's get honest, that's silly.

But you guessed it. Teeth are on the mind as one (singular, tooth) has just recently appeared in our life. It broke through the gums before creating too much havoc but either the process of it growing up further into the mouth and or it's lil tooth buddy next door is creating quite the stir and turning our otherwise perfect child into a neurotic manic-depressive with an oral fixation and a perma-grimace. Honestly his version of crabby is still pretty darn reasonable, but it made it very rough on my friends who babysat for us on Sunday. I don't know if y'all have been wondering....you may remember I was pretty excited about the date with the mister. Apparently our big-headed-baby cried inconsolably the majority of the time we were gone, which of course proves that I should never leave the house again.

Kidding.

Sort of.

So the march of time adds more body parts...hmm well since the tooth was hiding in the gums it's been here all along so perhaps I should say reveals more body parts. But it's also added more length to the lil dude. He turned 6 months old a few days ago and at the check-up clocked in at 95th percentile in length and only 25th percentile in weight. Damn, I wish those were my numbers. And I hate to start running down this road, but ah well, what would a mommy blog be without it?

So here goes. Everyone kept saying that nursing was going to just 'melt the weight off' and while I think it would be rude to call them all liars. Well. They are. And then of course I also heard 9 months on, 9 months off which I thought was just a charming way of saying that other women have a hard time getting the weight off, but of course it wouldn't apply to me. Because I'm special. And I have to say, it sucks not being as special as you are convinced you are.

When BHB was 8 weeks old we went back to Florida for my high school reunion. Which one you ask? Oh 10th of course. Ahem. We stayed with my grandmother who gave birth several times, the result was 7 kids and they came in pretty rapid succession. She wanted to share with me some stomach exercises that she used and still does to help me get my figure back. Great, I thought. Sure. And seriously, you gotta give it up for the 84 year old woman busting out the pilates moves on her dining room floor. The devastating part of this story was that I literally could not do the little routine of sit-ups and leg lifts she was showing me, there was absolutely no way. That is either just more awesomeness going out to her, or the opposite coming back this direction. Pretty sure it's the latter.

End of day I just hate being a cliche. New mom frustrated with baby-weight. Comon', it's way too obvious and pat. And it's really not too bad. I put on 45 during the pregnancy and 30 have come off so what's left is kinda like the freshman 15 right? And based on the amount of late nights and pizza I'm eating, it pretty much makes sense.  With this picture above I'm going back in time to 6 months on the other side of the birth, 3 months into the pregnancy. I thought I had such a belly then. Ha!

And since I was just telling a fabulous new friend and mommy blogger that I don't want to come up here and whine in y'all's general direction (which is why you haven't heard from me all week) I better stop while I"m behind. But let me leave you in a wake of pixie dust and tell you about a sweet moment that occurred this week...

While buckling the lil dude into his jump seat there in the back o' the prius I looked into his face and found that he was staring at me in the most amazing way. I don't know if I can give it deserved justice here, but the best way to say it was that he was just loving me. Rather than kissing his head and bustling on my way into the front seat to hurriedly go whereever the heck it was that I was going, I stopped. And sat there. And soaked it in. And he stayed there too, in that remarkably sweet space, holding my eyes and sending me love capital L. Honestly it was incredibly tough to sit still. Tears just rolled down my face as I held his gaze there in my back seat in the parking lot under a hazy blue sky. I saw his soul that day, his old soul showed through for a moment between all of the teeth growing and scream-finding and various-and-sundry confusions that must come from having a new body. It was a literal soul connection and I'll never forget it.

It used to really piss me off when people said to me "You can't understand how amazing parenthood is until you are in it." I'd be like, whatev's. I have a dog, I get it.

But now, I think I might be starting to understand what they were talking about. All respect to the brown dog too. In fact I'll leave you with a little montage of the BHB and the brown one.

Cave shadow drawing in Griffith Park.

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

Let's start with the Good:

1) Shoot on Monday was amazing.

Thanks to the supporters and senders of love. The result will be posted here soon, but suffice it to say - discussed profound shit with random strangers and I think it will make for some quality entertainment.

2) I only cried hysterically once that day when I was away from the big-headed-baby.

Of course it was probably my only chance as I was alone for those 10 minutes, and the water shot out of my face with much force and soaking power. Of course y'all knew that was coming. But I felt better and only called the cute sitter once to check on them. Quite an impressive achievement if I do say so my damn self.

3) Brown dog is better!

If you' don't know what the heck I'm talking about, back story here and here. What a joy to have him back and on hikes with us and generally just being his good doggie self. Huge, heaving sigh of relief.

4) We hit a milestone.

It's been threatening for months, but it finally arrived. And I'm talking about the roll, kids. We saw it go both ways this week, front to back and back to front. Proving that our child is gifted. A genius. Extraordinary. And actually I little late with this one (he's almost 6 months old) but frankly I'm probably going to trip him if he tries to walk too early so that's a-fine with-a me. Pic at right documents the first time it actually happened on recent trip, but we didn't count it due to help from a hill. So we'll call it Sunday the 20th as the actual first.


Next, the Bad:

1) BHB has a little cold that won't go away.

It's freakin' my shit out. I hope his little snotty nose stops it's snotty attitude soon. It started on the trip and then waned and then sorta jumped back in again today. Um, fellow Mommy's? What's a girl to do about such things? Since he's getting the Mama milk I thought he was immune to this kee-rap? Dawg.

2) Remember the wonder-twin producers I told y'all about? Well. Wonder-twin powers, deactivate.

This morning I got the first email of walking away from said project and then this evening I got the call from the other one. If you remember I had begged them and they said yes, and well, I kinda get that reluctant yes will likely eventually lead to 'or maybe not' but the fact that it didn't surprise me didn't stop me from full tilt panic. So there's a few other folks who might step in but what's scaring me the most is the idea that I might produce this monster myself. Ah-my-gawd, just shoot me.

and the Ugly?

1) My visage due to lack of sleep.

I posted a new profile picture that happens to be from a beautiful sunset on our trip and lets get honest, that is some damn good lighting. God bless fill light. But the reality? Hardcore. Notice that I'm not featuring a picture of the reality. Don't you hate it when you go to someone elses house and you see yourself in the mirror and you're like "What! Gasp! Seriously?!" because you've gotten used your bathroom-lighting-version of yourself. That happened this week. Full tilt sadness. The ridiculous part is that the BHB isn't stealing my sleep. Well not directly, he's just stealing my waking hours with his drools and smiles. The amazing fact is that the boy is only getting up once a night these days - godbless his giant soul. Trouble is that naps have gone microscopic, he gets it done in :30 or less or the pizza is free so daytime does not offer me any productive time 'tall. That nap issue was a gift of the trip. Hopefully, that will evolve into a better place.

So! I'm staying up til all hours typing emails to various crew and researching giant costumes and typing into this white box and then fighting with blogger to post my pictures in some reasonable way. Because if honestly is required I will tell you that Blogger sucks ass for picture posting, at least in my experience. Which is why I'm only dishing a few pics tonight so that I refrain from obsessively posting and re-posting to see what is going to make the stoopid pictures line up.

2) I'm sure there is plenty more ugly to share, but I think it's best to refrain...

Let's go back for one more good, shall we? The daily 20 minute meeting (Dig deep! You'll see it at the end of that post!) with the cute hubs has been one of the most extraordinary things we've ever done as a couple. I mean, other than make a damn cute human.

We both have the ability to procrastinate and seriously stall in ways that compete with 7th graders and their book reports, but with our new found commitment to this little movie - and the commitment to be together gabbing about it everyday, things are happening in amazing and astounding ways. I have to say it's giving me hope. Hope that anything is possible, even this movie.

'Cause this week we've managed to find our DP, our Editor, a friend who's hopefully going to Production Design, a Stylist, and another friend who is going to make a movie poster for us. I mean, how freakin' cool is that? So with that progress, I am feeling some Hopeful tingling Hope despite the new hunt for a producer person.

Motherhood - Take One

So yea. I'm a mom now, it's still even creepy to say that out loud, ok type it out loud.  Let's try it again. I'm a Mom.

Eeeps! I get a little squeamish. Even though I'm 3.5 months into this new gig, I'm not in total ownership and I think it's (no offense) due in large part to the other Mommy's that I meet.

It's like anything that comes on too strong. Like flavored liquor or even the most expensive perfume, too much of a great thing is still waay too much. And Motherhood seems to bring that out in women - the desperate over-achieving passive-agressive wackadoo hovering person who was not so long ago, reasonable.

For example...
1) Do we have to talk in a voice that's 14 octaves above hearing range? My dog thinks it's neat but my ears are bleeding. This is referred to in one of the 45 parenting books that I obsessively skim on a daily basis as 'parentese' and sadly, this voice is encouraged.

2) Can we PLEASE talk about something else? Let's be clear, I am saying this to myself as well - but the discussions about cracked and elongated nipples and sleepee sleepy-by schedules and the milestones like how amazing little baby is because she looked in the same direction for 14 seconds in a row is so booring. Boring. I mean I get it, but ohmygod, let's find a new topic. Like what happened in the last half of the 30 Rock season? I dearly and desperately miss Liz Lemon.

* I'm going to take a quick break from this mean spirited sounding list to qualify myself as a much nicer person. K. Well, since I need to say that I guess you can believe what you want.

3) How about we forgo the comparisons? "How old is he? And HOW much does he weigh? Wow, you've got a big one there..." 'Cause I don't know the percentile and I don't care. Or I'll pretend I don't anyway. "Does he hold his head up yet? Oh gosh that's too bad you know my little sugarface has been holding her head up since she was born...He'll get around to it."

4) And no NO. Nope, he's not sleeping through the night. He's not even 4 months old! (Dear Jesus... I don't talk to you much but if I could just stop by and ask you to please help me through this - that would be great....thanks ever so, amen)

I guess you can say I'm a procrastinator since I've waited until my 38th year to join this club, and you'd be right. I'm a procrastinator. And it didn't really seem to bother me 'cause I was busy building my career as a Director of things. Commercials, short films, webisodes, corporate blah blah videos, whatever can be written/directed and sometimes edited for money - I'm your gal. Or was, wait -still is! It's a confusing time when identity is on the line.

And I guess that's what hurts and why I rail against the monologues of the Mommy set. Who am I now? Am I still one of the relatively rare directors with boobs (only now they produce massive amounts of milk)? How is that I used to be able to run a whole set filled with big guys and their big gear and this little tiny guy can take me out with a few short screams?

When I was pregnant, I had such swagger. I said, Aw - it will be easy. Of course I'll still work, anytime you want. I know it's a full time job, hahhaha, of course I did. Ok People magazine, here's my confession that you won't care about to print. I didn't know. I really, really, really didn't know what I was getting myself into. It's impressive how not knowing I was of what we speak. How is that such a smartee pants director lady who has had her own production company for ten years and done stuff and more stuff could enter this new phase of life so cluelessly? Well, she did.

But I must say, I do love him. He's a big-headed beauty.
 Please to enjoy a picture from the second week of his life.