Model material

It is a lovely rainy Saturday and Simon teething on some tupperware tops. The house is cozy with the smells of Jaime cooking and Roxie is tuckered out from a nice long beach romp with her friend Luna (Laura got to walk with her friend Wowlven and cutie patootie Elka Rose).

Simon is a marvel. He is marvelous. He is a weak hearted, marvelous, growing, drooling, baby boy.

Jaime really thinks we should get this boy into modelling. Your thoughts?

Shave and a haircut...two bits

Getting some Pilates instruction from MM

(gotta work off that whipped cream-)

Did you really think it was shaving cream in the above picture?!

Thanks MM. I'm feeling really fit now.

The Original Butz Keppelah (Head Bump in Yiddish)

More Bath Photos- Who can resist?

Yes that's a hospital bathing tub on his head. So what?

Big love to Team Shimmy out there

No words

Just enjoy a glimpse into a likely future

Courtesy of Fred

Thank you Fred.

Thank you.

Really, thank you.

The Curse of A Well Adjusted Child

Get ready for a completely irrational rant.

Simon doesn't think I'm special. He doesn't cry when I leave the room and/or go out for a few hours. He doesn't mind being passed to any number of people. He doesn't reach for me when he's upset (that doesn't mean I can't comfort him but...) and he can get shy when we're out and about but there's not much more than a head turn that happens.

It's sick but there's a part of me that wants that. As the primary caretaker shouldn't there be some sort of feeling of Mommy-short hair = home base and safety?

I know that might be there and Jaime and I are just not getting to see it since the little man might just be really well adjusted given all that he's been through.

Maybe we've done the job we wanted to do (not that we're done) with having Simon understand that there will be hard/painful times BUT that we wait for the next good time and when it comes we enjoy the heck out of it. And that there's almost always some kind of good time to be had almost immediately right after a hard time.

Maybe that's sunk in a little for Simon.

Big F***-ing deal!!!

It's sick but I want to feel that special burden of being the only one that can soothe or calm my son when he's upset. He's just 1 year old, is it so wrong that there's a part of me that resents that he seems to be able to do that for himself.

He did so well at his birthday party. He rocked the 4 hour Seder. He's been fabulous with so much family in town and all the dinners and brunches that we've been dragging him to. He's just been great. Happy as a clam.

Little f***er.

It's sick. I know it's sick, and that I'll be kicking my self in the head when all that changes and he can't let go of my pant leg when I really need to pee or get the phone or take the muffins out of the oven (like I'm the one ever baking muffins right?)
It's deranged, I know it is. Still, I want it. I want it bad. I want that clinging.

What is wrong with me?

Anyone have a tree monkey I could borrow for an hour or so?