my fifteen year old cousin stayed with us for a few days last week and we managed to sneak away to get pedicures. when The Boy saw our lovely toes he expressed the need for some polish as well.
with some groups of our friends, this is a given; everyone deserves a little color splash, and their boys regularly wear blue, black, green, or some other "boy" color on their toes.
with other parents we know, they notice and either are so bamboozled that they don't say anything, or they say something like, "oh, well, milo. i just looove your nail polish," and then they flash me that you're-such-a-wacky-mom-you-know-you're-gonna-turn-your-son-gay look.
and then there are the strangers in stores and restaurants who are always telling him how pretty his hair is and, "excuse me little lady, what would you like to drink with your pizza?"
they really do like his daring choice of nail color.
well, he's been at it again.
spending all his free home-time in his office, obsessing over photos.
to help with the worthwhileness, i link to him HERE,
and in the sites sidebar.
and i say, thank you, honey.
my husband has finally discovered the joys of flickr. now it is much easier for me to steal his photos.
this little girl does not get enough credit:
she is so pleasant. she is happy. she is pretty. she is smart. and she sleeps at night.
when people meet her, and she looks at them with her shiny blue eyes, they say she has a deep soul.
or an old soul? they feel like she can see into their respective souls.
she is positive. she has "good energy". she is the one, we feel, who will guide the other three of us, the one who will lift us up, will make us smile, will make us want to be like her.
she does cry. a little. but who doesn't?
thank you for the pretty pictures, honey.
i had a couple of hard-to-explain emotional moments when we were in the high elevation of new mexico.
one culprit could have been the high elevation.
on the fourth of july i was having a conversation there with a woman i had just met. i was simply relating to her how beautiful i found the land, how it was a beauty i had not expected, and i started to cry.
i had only had one margarita at this point.
i have, of course spent time in high elevations, in mountainous regions, in stunning parts of the world, and i mean, i live in dazzling, urban los angeles (blech), but never have i had this, shall we say, spiritual? reaction.
it's ridiculous that i post such pictures because certainly you don't feel tears suddenly welling.
oh yeah? try this one:
no? not yet? well, grab your tissues . . .
ok. but it IS beautiful there.
and the weather! warmish in the hottest summer (not even 90*), then cold at night (under 50*)!
perhaps it was the several nights of no sleep leading up to and including our travels to taos that led to my sensitivity.
regardless, i am more aware than ever that i do not live where i belong. where i belong, i do not know.
i do know that i left my new love in that field by the chapel.
but that's a story for another day.
twice last week The Baby lunged at, grabbed, and happily sucked on sliced lemon.
(i know it's too early for citrus, yes i am glad it wasn't the dreaded peanut butter.)
some things you just can't stop a girl from doing.
she never even winced.
she saves that for when i dare to give her baby food from a jar.
our Boy is so particular about things; during our seven nights (two little vacations) away he woke each and every night complaining hysterically of something or other at a very high decible, waking startling all of us sleeping in the room.
most frequently he yelled, "THERE'S A RUMPLE IN MY WOOLY PAD!" (he sleeps on a sheepskin), and, "MY PILLOW IS WRINKLED!", but there were several, "I CAN'T FIND MY SHOE!" and incoherent stuff, too.
i don't know what is really going on, if wrinkles and rumples truly feel painful to him, if he is overtired and just freaking out in his sleep because of it, but he never has done much undisturbed sleeping, and he's pretty picky about rumples and wrinkles when he is awake, too.
this is why it is particularly shocking when he allows himself to be free, to lick peanut butter off of a spoon in the nude at a table in the middle of mountain country in new mexico.
i still look forward to when he can sleep in his own hotel room.
how will we ever say, "no," to her?
it's trite, i know, but i must say: my! how they grow so quickly.
(thank you starrs!)
the love of my life, at work:
