Come on Glens Falls

Can we please get a book store?

Seriously. I can go and see Rembrandts and Picassos.
I can ride a roller coaster.
I can buy a Coach bag (well, I can't, but I could if, you know, if I *could*)
I can get sushi or Thai food.

But can I walk into a bookstore and look around?

No, the closest I can get is the book and magazine aisle at the grocery store with the latest romance and thrillers along with an exhaustive selection of paperback, newsprint astrology books. Or I can brave the mall and duck into Target and try and fight my way past the goons hanging out in the electronics section to get to the books where it seems to be nothing but books about pop stars, "co-authored" by the dazed looking, pouty lipped, cleavage baring teen idols.

I just want to walk into a bookstore and get lost. Sit down in the an aisle with a heap of books beside me, leafing through the pages, waiting for something to jump out at me. At the bookstore the books almost pick you. Colors leap out at you like wet noses at the pound. The texture of a cover taunts you until you run your fingertips across it and realize that you must have it.

Steinbeck,
King.
Steele.
Hemingway.
Higgins Clark...

...in a real bookstore they are all equals. You don't mind carrying three "trashy" books, 2 classics, and a non-fiction that you probably won't ever read, but you feel righteous picking out and paying for all the same.

When Sean and I go to Saratoga we split up and scatter to opposite sides of the store. We always meet up in music, where he inevitably has me listen to bits of cds he has picked out. He wants me to want them as much as he does. I wish I was as passionate about music as he is. I enjoy it. And I am always grateful when he makes sure we have music playing for home improvement projects or when he has put together a special selection for a get together, or for my belly. But what I love the most is the excitement in his eyes at the store. I am walking on air from being around so many books, the anticipation of completely disappearing into a story, into the life of new friends within the pages of the books I clutch to my chest, and as I look at Sean holding the headphones out to me, his arms laden with books and cds, I can taste how perfect life is. He beams at the look of delight on my face.
We don't go often, but these trips to the book store allow us escape and indulgence. It means we have free time ahead of us, or at least had the free time to get down to the bookstore. Sean knows how much I love to read and I understand how much he loves music. At home we'll read to each other and share the music. We'll make new memories working ang playing with Briar as the new music plays, we'll savor chapters here and there before bed. We'll laugh.
Sean says that I have an amazing knack for waiting until he is about 20 pages from the end of a book and then suddenly wanting his attention. I'll have finished my book, or decided to go to sleep, but I'll rest my head on his shoulder and be so loudly quiet that he can't concentrate.

"It's amazing! 357 pages and nothing. You haven't tried to talk to me, haven't budged me or sniffled. Now, a mere 20 pages from this book's end and you are relentless!"

"What? What am I doing? I was just cuddling."

"Sure. Right. HAH. Cuddling." He'll set the book down.

"No, no. Keep reading. I'm sorry."

Long look. He goes back to reading.

Pause. And I swear to you, I cannot help myself, my chin is back on his shoulder. Waiting.

"I'm helping it last longer." I try to say without snorting.

He's a good sport. He laughs with me. Sometimes he puts the book away, other times he keeps reading.

I got off track, but my point was, we have to go to Saratoga to get to a bookstore. I hate that. I wish we had a bookstore here.

Ya hear that Northshire?

Well, I'm off to either skim Good Night Moon for the 11 billionth time or to page through Pottery Barn Kids...

Tummy Time

I remember putting Briar on her belly for tummy time for what all the books and magazines screamed was critical for neck muscle development and general baby well being.
You felt like...
(ok, I felt like, I don't know about other people)
a lousy parent when I'd get through about 45 seconds and think,

"Ok, enough of that!" as she'd strain and grunt and generally look at me as if to say, "What? Holding my head up and doing any number of other miraculous things every day isn't enough for you?"

I exaggerate, but seriously, Briar did perfectly fine. Nursed like a champ, held her head up, sat up, walked early, took to eating solid foods, sleeping (eventually) and I don't think I (or we, I don't remember Sean enjoying it either)
gave her the "suggested" duration of tummy time each day.

We figured out pretty early on that if we listened to Briar and to our own instincts, that we'd get by just fine...

except for that one time when Sean had to really threaten to slap me to call me down when Briar started to choke/wheeze in bed. I was B-movie, slapstick hysterical and nothing was calming me down. It just took that one time to teach me to stay cool and trust myself, Briar, Sean and the situation.

Anyway, my point is we have entered a new kind of daily tummy time exercise. We have introduced the concept of "baby" associated with my belly. Pretty immediately Briar started referring to my belly whenever it was uncovered with a delighted "Bay-Be!" We were thrilled. Then she started playing with her belly button, sometimes saying "belly" and other times saying "bay-be".
Then there was the time Sean walked across the room shirtless to fetch a clean shirt from a hamper.
Briar sat up, pointed at Sean and screeched "BAY-BEE!" It was pretty darn cute!

Now we talk to her about the baby inside of me and about her being a big sister. We comment when she shares, or is gentle with the animals, letting her know what a great big sister she is ging to be. When we ask her if she wants to kiss the baby she gets a huge grin on her face and grandly goes about kissing my belly, sometimes even rubbing reverently and laying her face down for a moment or two while she makes a sound like when you are hugging someone tightly.

I am sharing some Briar belly time pictures.

Kissing the baby.

Talking to the baby.

Dealing cards to the baby.

Letting Barnaby say hello.

I am continually fascinated and delighted
by what Briar finds entertainment in,
note the muffin pan.


That's it for today. Time to go to bed for some not quite on my tummy time.

At Long Last

I realize it's been a while since I've posted Briar pictures, so here we go along with some quick Briar stats.

Favorite Activity: Being pulled in her box...even more fun when the kitty is chasing and attacking the box.

Favorite Book: Toss up between "I Already Know I love You" (Curses on you Mr. Crystal) , "Hug", and "Goodnight Moon" - except in the car, then it is hands down Billy Joel's New York State of Mind book.

Favorite Word: Bawl - which means balloon, ball, butterfly, book and box depending on the situation.
She also likes saying: Daw! to announce when she is done with her dinner.

Favorite Drink: Anything mom is drinking, or drinking from mom.

Favorite Food: Pretzel Goldfish straight from the bag thank you very much or string cheese.

Favorite Party Trick: Having Da-Dee or Derek magically turn on the fans at 196 Glen.

Favorite Thing on TV: The Lunesta butterfly

Teeth Status: A mouthful with more molars coming in by the minute...OUCH!

Height & Weight: Not sure, but she is growing like a weed and looking super tall - 18 month clothing, easy.

Social Activities: Frequent playdates with Emma - she has toyed around with tantrums, but is truly remarkable with her willingness to share and concern for the happiness of the kids around her.

A few photos of Briar in her trusty red box. Notice how she has Pooh, her bear, Lily, a baby doll and purse in the box with her? They are all critical to an enjoyable ride. She was insisting at one point that having her beach ball and the Billy Crystal book in the box was of the utmost importance. We compromised and she recovered. Yeah!














This set of photos was taken this morning to illustrate what a little clothes horse Briar is. We had purchased a winter coat for her that was a total disaster. It's so stiff she tips over when we put it on her and it's so thick that we have to let the care seat straps out about 5 inches each time she wears it. So I went on Hanna Andersson and bought her 2 new coats. She loves them, insists on wearing them together. At night. In the morning. You name it. Last night I put the blue coat on Pooh as a compromise. This morning she was furious that Pooh had the audacity to wear her coat!













Now the Magees are off to Great Expectations Maternity (a maternity store opening February 18th in Glens Falls, NY www.greatexpectationsmaternity.com check it out!) to deliver a brochure and a coat. It's supposed to be in the high 50's today so we are walking. Yeah! Happy weekend to all.

Grandpa, hope you'll be up and reading this soon. I love you.
ADM

The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

Ok, ok, ok.

Yesterday's entry elicited an email from my sister, who, by her own admission is "flaky" about communication. God bless her vegan little heart she swiftly wrote to remind me that despite not always writing, she is always there for me.

Come on, all together now: Awwww!

I am a lucky sister.

And a lucky wife and mother.

Today, despite being truly heinous out, has been a glorious day from the moment I woke up.

I indeed did a bit of cleaning last night, as well as preparing dinner quickly and efficiently while Briar played, allowing for relaxed family time before Briar had to go to bed. Briar was actually very helpful during dinner prep. She LOVES tomatos (that did not come from me) so she did a lot of sampling as I assembled the fixin's for our salad. She seemed to think I should add bananas, but I was able to explain that we weren't going with a tropical theme, maybe another time. She also made sure I knew where the kitten and Ella were at all times. All in all a pretty good time was had in the kitchen at 118.

AND I packed an incredible lunch for Sean to take to work today. I don't know about anyone else, but actually having lunch made or the coffee pot set for the next day before you go to bed is such an awesome feeling. You feel like you got a jump start on the day.

Sean took the kitten to the vet and found out why he had little bumps on his face. Poor little thing has athlete's foot...on his face. Ugh, the indignity. So, now we have some stuff for Sean to put on him to help him kick it!

Nana Jan sent some adorable pictures of Briar from their playdate on Sunday. I'll load them up tonight. I tried last night but Blogger was not able to load pictures for some reason.

This weekend we are helping out with a friend's upcoming shop opening. Then Sunday we do another open house and then hopefully have our friends Keith and Kathy, from the coffee shop over for snacks and laughs.

This was a pretty prosaic post, but it's a step up from yesterday. Inching my way back to my sassy, self-deprecating self.

Big hugs to my sister and Anna.

-A

Absence

I have been out of it for about the past month. Between the holidays, Trampoline's move, and my own work there has just been too much to do. Toss in an adorable toddler who is more and more aware of too much multi-tasking by mom, a rapidly passing pregnancy and an attempt at having some sort of relationship with a husband and you have one thinly stretched mama.

I have known that blogging would feel good.
Be centering.
Healing.
Deliriously distracting.

But we don't always do what we know is good for us now do we?
Even in this month of lofty resolutions.

Now I have five minutes, or rather I am making five minutes and you know what?

None of what I really have to say or vent is going to do anyone any good.
Suffice it to say I am just one unspoken sentence past being able to write anything constructive.

Petty. Ultimately unsatisfying, yet totally human.

I wish I could go and sweat and grunt this all out on a track or in a gym. I worked out at the Civic Center last week and was swiftly reminded of my increasing responsibility to take it easy.

Panting and pregnancy aren't a great combination.
Alcohol is out.
Screaming would scare the baby.
Punching stuff just makes you feel dumb.
Talking it out hasn't worked.
Avoidance is more work than it's worth.

What does this leave?

Cleaning.

Little bit of elbow grease, a nice citrusy solvent of some sort, rags, a sponge, and the wide open expanse of my mind to just hammer away at my angst and the grime.

I may actually enjoy this.

So, my apologies to anyone who has checked in for an update, first for the absence, second for my return. The non-whining void was probably better.

I'll work on getting over this hump. I hope everyone else is enjoying their January and the truly odd weather we've been having everywhere.

Humility

I love entering these posts.

I don't always have a lot of time, or the luxury of 100% focus.

This means that occasionally you eagle eyed readers will get to witness a typo or grammatical error.

I am sure not all of you revel in teasing me about them in quite the way that my loving, supportive husband does.

I hope some of you enjoyed the extra 's' in one of my captions as much as Sean did.
He left it up on the screen and when I didn't immediately catch it he said:



"We just FEELS so blessed. Yes, we sure do, we FEELS so blessed."




So for him, and for you, I'll not go back and fix it.

Hell yes, I FEELS blessed.

Going to bed.

More another night.
Love to all.

Late Post, More Pictures

Briar received an honest to goodness arm chair and ottoman for Christmas from her Grandma. It's something I have long coveted from Babystyle.com (Favorite maternity site!!) I had not known until the moment I removed the chair from the package if this was one of those things that was more for the parent than the child. Briar let me know as she tried to get into the chair before it was fully out of the box that it was indeed something she wanted. It is HER chair. And she loves it.











Nothing makes my heart more than a dad playing with his daughter, well, nothing makes my heart more than Sean palying with our daughter. The other dads used to make my heart melt, now they just make me smile and remind me of what an incredible dad Briar has.



Not that they appreciate having them posted on the internet for anyone in the world to see, but don't you love the pictures of your husband all rumpled and in his weekend clothes, unshaven and all yours?! So wonderful knowing that there are those "Sunday mornings togehter" that they talk about in movies that you really get to have. For the record, Sean had a picture of me holding Briar on his wall at work (covering chipped paint) for MONTHS, in which I was unshowered and just not in that "Sunday morning" glow. So don't go feeling sorry for him, besides, he is seriously adorable on the weekend!





Keeping it somehwat fair (though he could start his own blog...)

A showered Manda picture...

...followed by an unshowered one. Briar takes the bite out of looking bad.


And in closing, a little bit of dog'n kitten lovin'.