Seeing New York-Coney Island

I've decided I don't like crowds.

 

Actually, I don't like crowds when I have a baby in tow. So visiting Coney Island on Memorial Day probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Well at least that's what I thought when I snapped this picture. But seeing as how pretty much anywhere worth going in NYC is going to be crowded, I can't let a few thousand half naked people stop me from enjoying all this place has to offer.

Once we got to the boardwalk, we strolled down to the New York Aquarium. It was my goal to keep Blake out of the sun as much as possible because our essentially bald baby refuses to wear a hat and with one bout of heat rash behind us, the heat and direct sunlight worry me when it comes to Blake. 

 

At first I thought the tickets to the aquarium were a little steep ($14.95 for adults, probably $10 for kids. I can't remember exactly, but it didn't cost anything for Blake. Oh, and Fridays after 3pm are pay-what-you-wish!). But afterwards I thought it was well worth the price to see Blake mesmerized by everything. 

 Apparently I was a little mesmerized too.

 We were able to catch the last live sea animal show of the day which was a lot of fun!

 Jellies!

Blake even got to high five a walrus! 

 

After our visit to the aquarium, we made our way down to the beach.

 

And of course Blake had to stop and play with the guys.

Oh and did I mention Tori tagged along for this little adventure? 

We didn't really do much else at Coney Island and there is so much more to do! Chances are we'll be visiting Coney Island again in the near future. Maybe next time we'll get a hot dog from Nathan's!

Adventures with a 1 year old- Poop...yes poop

This adventure actually starts out with a bout of heat rash. I took Blake to the playground one morning around 9:30 and made the mistake of putting him in sweatpants instead of shorts. Who knew it was going to be a scorcher at 9:30 am? He had on a short sleeve shirt and sandals, but apparently the sweatpants were enough to make him overheat and break out in a blotchy rash. Poor kid.

The next day we ventured into Manhattan with Aunt Tori to check out City Treehouse with some friends. When we got back, Blake was long overdue for a nap. So, being the smart momma that I am, I decided to strip Blakeyboo down to his birthday suit so he would be more comfortable. I figured his heat rash was bothering him, especially the areas that are covered by a diaper. Aunt Tori took off his crib sheet and we laid a towel down in case he accidentally peed during his nap. Except I didn't think about the possibility of an accidental poop.

After 20 minutes of strange noises and then a helpless cry, I decided to go check on Blake. As I entered his room I was smacked in the face with the smell of poop. I had an idea of what the scene would look like before I even turned on the lights. And I was right. "Poop is raining from the ceiling. Poop!"

I suspect it could have been a lot worse. It could have gotten all over the crib and on the wall. I should count myself lucky that it was somewhat contained. I'm also lucky that Aunt Tori was here to help me clean up the disgusting mess. I love my child and I'll do anything for him. But I'd be ok not having to do that again.

On a more disgusting note...I think he may have had a little taste, as evidenced by the poop 'stache. (shudder)

toddler vanity

Blake has developed a cute little habit of checking himself out in the mirror.

Gotta look good for the ladies.

(Please excuse the disgustingly dirty mirror.)

peek-a-boo

Adventures with a 1 year old- The Playground

I remember going to playgroup before Blake was able to crawl and sitting on the bench watching the other moms play with their kids. I would think to myself, "I feel kind of stupid just sitting here with a baby. I can't wait until Blake can walk around the playground and have fun." I really need to stop the whole, "I can't wait until my baby can do (insert milestone here)" thing. Newsflash: YOU CAN WAIT!

Now that Blake has mastered walking, our playground trips are a lot different.

There's lots of running away from Mommy

and picking up sticks in order to poke them through holes.

Sometimes if we're feeling brave, a trip down the slide will happen a few times. But absolutely no swinging on the swings. Blake in a swing=unhappy baby.

Of course there's lots of picking things up and putting them in the mouth (Blake, not me).

And the occasional bear stops by to play.

It's also becoming a tradition for Blake to get waaaaaaaaaaaay to close to an edge or try to man some stairs on his own.

And it wouldn't be a day at the playground if we didn't chase some pigeons. I'm just waiting for one to poop on Blake. Or for Blake to poop on one of the pigeons. Just kidding.

Sunday

Sunday morning. 6:30 am. Shower. Get ready for church. 7:00 am. Feed Blake. 7:30 am. We're supposed to be ready to leave for early church meetings, but we aren't.

Ok, so I'm going to be late. That's ok. I tried really hard to get to my meeting on time.

7:40 am. Open door to a torrential downpour. There's no way I can go out in this weather. There's no way I can stay dry. I guess I'm going to get wet because we have to leave now. Here we go.7:42 am. Rain lets up a bit. Right shoe soaked after stepping in a huge puddle.

7:44 am. Stupid wet hands. Stupid metro card stuck in my wallet. Stupid heavy stroller filled with too much stuff. 7:45 am. Stupid train I just barely missed which means I'm really going to be late for my meeting. Wait, no, with all due respect, this is not how it's supposed to work, Heavenly Father. I went out into the rain. I decided it was more important to go to church wet than to stay home and be dry. I made that sacrifice. Ok, so it wasn't a huge sacrifice, but still. You were supposed to make that train wait for me. You know the, "We are being held by the train's dispatcher" thing they always say when the train stops for no reason or stays in the station longer than usual. Ya, I was supposed to be on that train. That was my blessing for walking in the rain.

7:47 am. Cue tears. Awesome. I'm crying in the subway. Ok not crying, just trying not to let the tears roll down my face. Oh who cares. My make up and hair are already ruined anyway. I was supposed to be on that train. Why am I upset about missing that train? So what if I'm late? It's not that time of the month, so why am I being so emotional?

7:58 am. It's going to be another 10 minutes before a train comes. I tried. I tried my best to leave on time. 8:02 am. Train is coming. Ok good. But don't be disappointed if you miss the other train you need to catch because the way this day is going, that's exactly what's going to happen.

8:11 am. Ok, I'll run for the next train, but don't be mad if you miss it. Running up first set of steps. Hear the train coming to a stop and doors opening. Running down next set of steps. There it is. There's the train I need. I'm not going to make it. 8:12 am. I made it. "We are being held by the train's dispatcher." Of course.

8:17 am. There's actually a chance I could be on time for my meeting. 8:31 am. Here's our stop. Ok, only a few minutes late. 8:32 am. I walk past the Bishop's office door just as Evan is coming out. Right on time.

8:33 am. You can be happy on the days that go your way. But can you be happy on the days that don't?

 source

Still workin' on that one.

Seeing New York-Brooklyn Botanic Garden

I always want to say botanical garden.

Anywho. Blake, Evan and I decided Saturday morning, kind of last minute, that we would take advantage of free admission from 10am to noon at the Brooklyn Botanic(al) Garden. And I am sooooooooooo glad that we did! The flowers and trees were beautiful and even though it would be worth it to pay something (maybe not $10) to go, the whole free thing made it that much better!

"Come on guys!"

"So you aren't supposed to pick the flowers?"

"Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiird!"

"I'll do it. I'm gonna jump in..."

"Is anyone watching? I saw a security lady on a bike somewhere..."

"Here I g-. Oh. Dad."

"Weeeeeeeeeeeee flowerrrrrrrrrrrrrs!"

"I'm guessing this isn't the last picture we're going to take today."

"I guessed correctly. I'll just have to make the goofiest face a 1 year old can make..."

"Fine. I'll smile. Sort of."

"Ok I'm not smiling for this one."

"A giant bird's nest!"

"Ok seriously Mom. This post already has too many pictures in it."

motherhood

Just plan on not sleeping...ever. And if you do happen to get some sleep, it won't be for nearly long enough.

I'm not a happy person when I don't get enough sleep.

I'm not getting enough sleep.

New bedtime=10pm. Goodbye time for myself at night. Hello pillow.

(On a completely unrelated note, why won't my posts post automatically when I choose the day and time? It's really annoying.)

I'm one of THOSE moms...

I let my 13 month old pick things up and put them in his mouth. (gasp!) Obviously I don't let him pick up trash or dangerous items, but he's been known to chew on a stick. Or put a wood chip or two in his mouth.

And he's eaten dirt before. I did try to stop that, but it was too late.

I guess I should clarify a little. I don't let him continue chewing on things that aren't conducive to being masticated. I just don't hover over him taking every little thing he picks up out of his hands. And I don't freak out if he puts something in his mouth. Well unless it happened to be dog poop. Then I would totally freak out. And let's face it, I'm never surprised when he picks stuff up and puts it in his mouth. I'm actually surprised when he doesn't!

Last week I was at the playground with Blake and he was taking his usual stroll around the park, picking things up and holding them in his hand. Obviously at 13 months old Blake is not big enough to man the playground on his own, so I walk around with him. I am completely aware of what he is doing at all times, and that includes when he picks things up and tries to have a taste. Apparently another mother didn't think I was in control of the situation and said, "Oh my gosh, he is eating the stick, Mom!" I ignored her and just took the stick out of Blake's mouth.

I was annoyed. I guess she was just trying to let me know that my baby had a stick in his mouth. But I was right beside him! Looking at him! I've found the bigger reaction I make when Blake does something I don't want him to do, the more he does it. So I let him put some things in his mouth so he can see that they don't taste good. It probably sounds crazy, but our playground trips would consist of me carrying Blake around so he doesn't pick anything up off the ground. And that just isn't going to happen.

I would never let Blake put anything in his mouth that would make him sick (i.e. trash, medical waste, nuclear sludge), but is it so bad that I don't freak out when he licks a rock or tries to eat an acorn? I've been wondering lately if I did react in a big way if he would learn more quickly not to nibble on sticks and such. I'm guessing he'd still keep grazing.

I love that he likes to explore and is trying to experience the world around him. And I'm right there with him letting him experience it in a safe way. And sometimes that means he's gonna eat some dirt.

exploring

dirty knees

Language Barrier

Yesterday I went to my final root canal appointment to get a permanent filling and be done with this ridiculously long and expensive procedure. (Although compared to what it would have been without insurance, it wasn't that expensive.) I've only been to this dentist once before, but she seems like she knows what she's doing. The only problem is sometimes she can't really explain what she's doing. Or I can't really understand the words that are coming out of her mouth.

My dentist is Russian. And while she has a pretty good command of the English language, her accent can be a bit thick at times and she has trouble finding the appropriate words to use to be clear in her explanations. Case in point:

dentist (use your best Russian accent): You are going to need anesthesia.

me: Oh, ummm, ok?

dentist: Ok, how do your root canal go?

me: It went well. Dr. Gross did a great job. And he bleached my tooth so it doesn't look discolored anymore! (show her tooth)

dentist: Yes, yes, he does a great job with dat. Now today what I am going to do is put a post in. Your tooth is very weak and it needs....it needs (bumping fists together)...it needs reinforcement.

me: So is a post different than a permanent filling?

dentist: (looks at me like she can't believe how little I know about dental work) Ok, yes. Here, let me show you. Dis is thee post. It is translucent.

me: Ok so you're going to put the post in and not a filling?

dentist: Ok what we are going to do today is a permanent filling. And the post will help your tooth.

me: (thinking to myself) Despite trying to get a better explanation, I'm still not 100% sure what is going on. Is she going to gas me? Is the post going to be drilled into my bone? Why do I need anesthesia? Is she talking about just numbing me?

dentist: Ok so you don't need anesthesia.

me: Oh alright?

dentist: Are we good?

me: Yes. We're good.

dentist: Let's get started.

So by the end of that conversation I still didn't have a clear idea of what was going on. Later when she had finished putting the post and the filling in she had me bite down on a blue piece of something. She didn't explain what this was, but kept saying, "Just juujsh it around. Juujsh juujsh juujsh juujsh." Ummm, what??????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Up until that day, I had never had a filling...ever! I finally figured out (on my own) that when I bit down on the paper it would show where my bottom tooth was touching the filling. Then she would file the filling down so there wasn't any pressure on the tooth.

I used to feel bad about trying to find doctors whose native language is English. But after that whole "juujsh" incident, I don't feel bad anymore.

Language barrier and all, my root canal is finally finished.

I don't know how to feel

I can't remember how I first heard that bin Laden was killed. It must have been when I was on the computer yesterday morning. What I do remember is feeling a few different emotions: shocked, then worried, then sad. Shocked because I don't really think about Osama bin Laden on a daily basis and honestly had kind of forgotten about him. Not forgotten who he was and what he did, but that he was still being hunted. Then I started to worry because I began to think about the threat of retaliation. Then I felt sad because of the world we live in. And even though taking out bin Laden is being called a victory for those who are fighting terror, it doesn't feel like a victory to me.

Maybe I'm just being pessimistic. I feel like even though one terrorist mastermind is gone, there are many other people just waiting to step up and take his place. But I also feel like the United States can't just sit back and let groups terrorize and kill our people. We have to defend ourselves. That's why I don't know how to feel. On the one hand I'm glad bin Laden is no longer on this earth to promote evil. But I'm saddened that I have to raise my children in a world so full of hate.

I wasn't one of the people celebrating in the streets. I just didn't feel like a celebration was in order.

I would like to add that I am grateful to the men and women who serve in the armed forces. They leave their families and loved ones to protect me and my family. And that's something I can celebrate.