Pants free Christmas decorating

Ah, Christmas. The time of year where we get our one or two decorations out from the Halloween box and I tell myself I'll really get decorating when I'm a real adult. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have tons of holiday cheer around, but the thought of adding another box to our already jammed storage closet or 700 sq foot apartment that we will be moving from soon enough is too much for me to handle. But really, one tiny elf-proof tiny elf tree was enough to fill our whole space with festivity--and a few whiffs of good smells. Good thing we have to throw it away this weekend, because it's already dying! We loved you while you lasted. Theo had the best time hanging up the ornaments, and it's always been my favorite Christmas ritual. Up next, Idaho and some real snow! And a 45 minute flight. That is 2 episodes in Yo Gabba Gabba time. (What? Theo doesn't watch shows...)

giving thanks for carbs and meat

It's hard for me to describe how much I was looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. And while I have a lot to be thankful for, that wasn't really on my mind. Since October, a steady mantra of "turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, rolls" had been on repeat, and it just got louder and louder as the days went by. We're talking minor obsession. Maybe major. We stayed in Portland for the first time and had dinner with David and Vanessa, and I rounded out my selfish Thanksgiving thoughts by not thinking enough about the needs of one dairy free, gluten free, soy free member of the party. (So glad meat free wasn't in there too). See? Thanksgiving brings out the worst in me. The other day Jon accidentally threw a pillow at my head while I was eating dinner and I became really, inappropriately harsh, so maybe food brings out the worst in me. (I did warn him that the pillow hit was like approaching a predator while eating, so maybe I was just acting within my biological nature?) Anyway, after I got a few bites of food in me my selfishness dissolved a bit, and my thoughts turned to wonderful friends, and our wonderful little family. We always have the best time making food with the Wilkes so it was a perfect day. Plus, David made THE BEST TURKEY I HAVE EVER HAD. All caps totally appropriate. Raise the roof, you deserve it. And I made gluten free dairy free pumpkin pie to make up for the fact that I was a horrible friend and brought rolls to dinner. Sorry V! At least they weren't homemade.

 I actually let Theo have at my plate before I had a chance to start eating, which was remarkable given the frenzy I was in at that point. The spoon in the potatoes was his fault.

phone documentation of life

I haven't been the most regular in posting. (oh, you haven't noticed anyway?) Theo has been taking a single half hour nap daily, doesn't like it when I'm on the computer, and night time is strict couch and Tivo time with Jon. It's a sacred after-a-long-day routine in which we soak up as much screen time as we can after Theo goes to bed and eat random snacks. (just kidding Mom, we don't do this all the time just kidding we totally do just kidding just kidding) So here's some of the other stuff we do.

 Go to art class.

 Visit with old friends. Especially if they have a matching stroller.

 Go to pumpkin patches and just buy a corn on the cob. Theo loved it--who cares about pumpkins?

Play in an orchestra, which is hard on my back. I am old.

Go to the park with friends and enjoy the last sunny bits of fall.

 Make lots of towers.

 Make our own hot tubs and maybe wear pajamas while doing so.

 We Motherboy III. (I think we're on III, correct me if I'm wrong)

We dance, which is my main source of exercise right now. Arcade Fire seems to be a Theo favorite.

spooks

Happy Halloween! I'm a little sad Jon and I didn't quite get into the costume spirit--I saw everyone dressed up at our church party Saturday and had some regret. Jon, not so much. Theo's costume restrictions were no hoods or hats (we are making strides in wearing hats, however) so he went as a hobo with fingerless gloves on his feet (turns out he hates wearing gloves, too). Apparently according to the internet, dressing as a hobo is considered insensitive due to the economy? Oh well. I just needed any excuse to draw a beard on his face.

I am taking Theo on his first trick or treating outing this afternoon at some shops in the neighborhood. He will have no idea what is going on, but I will get all his candy. Isn't that the reason people have kids in the first place?

 p.s. hobo stick=weapon.

And here's a video of Theo chasing his tail--or, hobo stick.

Niece attack!

We had the women in Jon's family come to visit recently, including our nieces aged six and three. Theo had such a fun time with them, even when they smothered him with hugs and scared him right out of the bathtub with their screams. These girls are seriously, all girl--covered in pink sparkles, Barbies and princesses. But I think Theo helped convince them that little boys can be pretty fun too. Theo also got crazy attached to Grandma Hall--something that I think still would have happened even without all the candy involved. We had such a good time and I can't wait until our next super pink sparkle manicure session!

 We made a little trek to Cannon Beach one day and I was a meanie and wouldn't let Theo out of his stroller for the few minutes we were on the beach. It was cold, windy, and I knew his first instinct would be to run right at the ten degree water. So, he was mad. Which of course, was funny.

All the way from PA

 Of course I was having such a good time that I didn't take many pictures. Luckily I got a few when we went to see the swifts one night. September tradition!

 I think one of my favorite moments of Kenz's time here was when she thought a recycling/deposit center was an outdoor laundromat.

Whenever Kenz and Tyler come for a visit, it seems like we are welcoming them back home. And after about 10 minutes it feels like they have always been around. Luckily for us, we married husbands that are alike enough to handle all the time we need together. Because when twins are married the attitude is--"we need to go make up shopping, talking at rapid speed about random stuff for two hours. Have fun, guys!" It would be horrible to be married to people who didn't have that much in common--not that it would take away from us spending time together, of course--they would just have a lot of awkward time together in their future. I think they actually enjoy commiserating and comparing our shared foibles and (lovable) quirks, which are many.

It was so great to have them here for a whole week, because we got to do just about everything we planned--food places and fabric thrift stores and everything in between. If we would have put Kenz on the plane with a Taco Time crisp bean burrito, the trip would have been complete. We ate so much, it took me about a half hour to come up with the complete list later. Kenz did a great compilation of everything we ate on her blog. We visited a lot of old favorites, but found some new favorites too. Needless to say, it was one of the best weeks of the summer.  Theo loved loved loved having them around, especially with Uncle Tyler's love of scaring kids, and Theo's love of being scared. It was a perfect match. And I even found some great thrifting scores. Heaven! I hope they come back as soon as possible. Once I work the extra pounds off.

A Few Days of Summer

Call me weird, but I like Portland weather. Oftentimes you will hear people whine for months on end that the winter wasn't snowy enough, it was too snowy, too wet, too cold, too cloudy, summer came for a week, summer isn't a billion degrees, summer didn't let me build that awesome tan, etc. And although I just sounded like I never complain, even I (yes, me!) can get bored and wish things were different.
And while my pale, non-tan self enjoyed our mild, comfortable summer, I was looking forward to our Oceanside trip with Jon's family. I wanted to sit in the sun, get even slightly uncomfortably hot, and read a magazine by the pool. I am only human. Plus my hair needed some natural lightening.

Turns out, Theo loves the ocean and the waves. He got dirty, but never too dirty. Which is perfect I think. The water was at its warmest and I even got in long enough for a remedial boogie boarding 101 lesson from Jon. We sat in the sun, drenched in SPF 110 so we got all the warmth, and none of the skin damage (best of both worlds! FYI we use half a bottle of sunblock as a family in ONE application. I'm not exaggerating). I also beat Jon in ping pong, an epic feat in which I invented a new victory dance. I think I called it "the rewind." You may see me perform it sometime in the future when I achieve athletic greatness.

Things were going so well. Then the blackout hit. (I thought it was national news--it wasn't. It was a blackout from San Diego into Mexico and Arizona. Huge.) I've never been in a blackout before, but I can assume when you are vacationing it is that much worse. The power was out Thursday afternoon, and word on the street was that maybe we would have power again by Friday night, but that was tentative. Being in a city with no power was strange. Luckily there was a street festival thing that basically fed the whole city dinner that night on generators and propane, but people kept talking about "wait until tonight, there will be crazy crime," and people were buying ice like they had a cryogenics lab in their garage or something. After dinner I was anxious to get home before dark, as if zombies were going to come out. I saw one house in the neighborhood with a generator running, fence padlocked in front to prevent an attack from the under prepared. (Or more zombies? My fears get really irrational at times.) Add in a little general paranoia and my father in law talking about the end of times, I was working full time trying to keep a full fledged panic attack at bay. Then, the power came back on. I was so relieved. Vacation saved! So in summary, an exciting trip.

On "monte cristo-ing"

Whenever my twin sister Kenzie is trying to get somewhere and gets a little lost, she always goes opposite of her instinct. When she thinks to turn right, she goes left, and vice versa. As someone who is "directionally challenged" (seriously, I am continuously shocked at how lost she gets) Kenz finds that she makes it to where she needs to go by not following her shoddy inner compass. I have a shoddy inner compass as well, but it refers to my communication instincts. So I follow her rule and try not to talk when I feel like talking. This rule applies especially when annoyed, and extra especially when I feel like saying "well, actually...". Those who know me also know that I fail often in this, but I try. When I remember.

This week we found a great deal for a baby bike seat on Craigslist, (aka the Walmart of the aught generation) and went to pick it up on Wednesday. We had never received an exact address or phone number, just an cross street downtown--but it was in the Pearl district so I wasn't too worried. In summary, we showed up at the designated time (actually earlier, I emailed her we were there) and waited. And waited and waited. It was after Theo's bedtime, and he was trying to throw himself in a park pond, so we finally left. Theo was overtired and screaming. Suddenly Jon, the stalwart of the anti-impulse, the calm peacemaker of the family, decided that we should record a short video clip of our horrifically screaming child, and email it to the seller. I agreed without hesitation. We assumed she had found another buyer and had left us out to dry. Bike seat deal over. We decided to send her a message, politely worded, with a surprise at the end. Hopefully it would induce enough guilt to make her reconsider her bad Craigslist etiquette. High fives to awesome technology! We crowned ourselves geniuses.

1), 2) Maiden voyage! Helmet with skulls! Helmets sans skulls or other doodlies are for rich people, apparently, so we have skulls. 3) Maiden voyage ends, and the sadness begins. Looks like we have a winner!


What are these bike seat pictures, you ask? I guess I left out the part where the next morning we get an email from the seller who didn't get any of our emails until that morning (internet was out), therefore missing us while she was at home ready to meet us. And then after some searching we realized that this deal was still too good to pass up, and didn't exist elsewhere. We fought over who was going to make the initial call back, and I lost. After hearing a cute tiny girl voice on the voicemail message, the regret started to creep in. Then I sent Jon to pick it up after I talked to her (her: I'm so sorry that... me: No problem! It's great! I'm trying not to sound embarrassed!") so we could both partake in the awkwardness. There is that chance she never opened the video, but like an errant text message to the wrong receiver, you must always assume the message has made it.

Shoddy inner compass: 1
Me: 0

If only I had a J. Walter Weatherman handy to teach me life's lessons!

My life right now.

1) Having the best time of your life in the tub. 2) Two seconds later, you poop in the tub and your life (or bath) as you know it ends, suddenly and abruptly.


You know how much I love Theo. He's the maple frosting on my old fashioned doughnut. [pause as I flick two ants off my arm. Jon left out a bacon grease-filled paper towel one night, and our lives haven't been quite the same since. How do you put an ant trap in a dishwasher?] I live for his toddle, his hugs with accompanying back-pat.  However, with his burgeoning communication skills arrives a new family member--frustration. I mean from him, not from me. He learned how to unlock my phone, so when I take it away so he doesn't delete all my apps--meltdown. Pajama time? Meltdown. Tired? Hungry? Have the need to wander in a non-wander zone? He starts to squeal, while arching his back and violently flinging his head. He balances on the ground in an upside-down U on the top of his head and heels, usually with a couple rolls thrown in. He even head butted me (so hard!) in the most vulnerable area of my body, my kill zone, my fragile yet insanely expensive fake front teeth.

I don't want to make him sound like a terror, 99% of the time he is a pure joy. And honestly, I think his meltdowns are entertaining. I just have to let the worst pass and redirect, and it doesn't take too long. The worst part is that we are also in the midst of transition nap time (or, TNT--where two naps become one, but you never know when or where naps really happen). So both these phenomena together mostly leave me scratching my head. I know I'm in a phase where Future Malorie is looking at me and laughing that I don't know that Theo just needs ____. And I don't know what ____ is, because I'm Present Malorie. So there's nothing I can do until Present Malorie turns into Future Malorie, where I will know the solution was that he needed a nap at 10:30 and 2:00, or that his front bottom tooth and all his molars are pushing through at once. But right now, Present Malorie is stuck in ignorance, so I'm popping in my mouth gaurd and treating each nap time with a victory peanut butter cup.

Random kid post

 

From top: 1) I will never get tired of super close ups of Theo's eyeballs. Can you spot Jon and me? 2) This baby has made me have babies on my mind, big time. Don't my man hands look so natural, cradling a newborn in their gentle strength? 3) We made Theo a box playhouse this weekend. It was one of the most satisfying things I have done lately. Look at that face. So happy!


Even though I may refer to him as such, Theo is no baby. (I think I've said this a lot on my blog. Just ignore me, I'm in denial most of the time). He walks and runs, and actually communicates. Mostly in whines, fits, and arm gestures, but we talk. I'm going to say his first word was "mama" just because he says it all the time when he wants us--and I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt that he associates this word with me. We thought "ball" was in there too, but that comes and goes, and is mostly a mimic word. He mimics a lot of sounds, but I have a hard time counting them as actual words. Am I being too strict on this? But for sure he has a second word, and he has convinced me that he associates it with the item. It is, cheese! He pronounces it "chz." Hand him a cheese stick though, and "chz" follows. Boy genius!

I am embracing Theo the kid. It is so much fun to watch him play with other kids--and we may have more wrestling/play time than the average mom/son duo. I don't know what I was thinking as a child--it is so much more fun to run around making sound effect noises and doing fake body slams.

Phoning it in

(Second and third from the bottom: Motherboy II. Last picture: Original Motherboy.)

I have been somewhat of a curmudgeon when it comes to social media--I'm latecomer to Facebook, and Kenz has had to explain Twitter lingo to me about 12 times. All this checking in business and status updates seem a bit narcissistic to me. Why am I supposed to care where everyone is at all times? And it seems I am constantly submitted to statuses such as "Dear cookies, you are delicious but stop making me fat. Love, me." But my opinions may be a bit misguided--I think it's just a little boring. Which is why I have picked up and loved Instagram, which is like adding pictures to status updates. Add a picture and suddenly little obvious statements become interesting. Eating a delicious cookie and want to write a letter about it? Add a delicious looking picture and I am a fan. I suddenly care where people are when there is a great looking picture attached. It makes everything relevant somehow. I get to see Nikki's experimental dye job and what Kenz ate for lunch (and a few Gigi pics, of course). As you can tell, I am a bit addicted. It beats spending too much time on Angrybirds. (I have 3 stars on almost every level anyway...)

(if this post has convinced you, give me a follow! Then you can see the people I follow who take much better pictures than I)