Mother's Day?

I checked the calendar. We are less than 1 week from Thanksgiving. Just over one month from Christmas. But yesterday I could've sworn it was Mother's Day.

Chris agreed to take a hot yoga class with me, even though he generally eschews organized exercise classes, new age music, and any kind of stretching. He really tried, too! With sweat pouring from his body he leaned into warrior pose, then warrior 2; he took each down dog as an opportunity to perfect his pose. And although I caught him checking the clock more than once (maybe more like 20 times -- it was a 75-min class, so understood), it made me so happy. When the instructor laid the wet rag over my eyes I was smiling ear-to-ear. I don't know if he'll accompany me again, but, as any married woman could tell you, that isn't the point.

Then after we got home and I was tucking Nicky into bed, he chilled some white wine for me and turned on the Project Runway season finale. Oh snap.

I was looking for a good picture to accompany this post, and while I wish to high heaven that I'd snapped a shot of him last night, this is what I finally selected. While not particularly great of either of us, I've always loved this image. It was taken after dinner the night of my baby shower. We were getting ready to leave the party and I'm telling some animated story about who-knows-what. I am 8 months pregnant, but for some reason I don't look it. Anyway, what I love most about it is that in anticipation of his son's arrival Chris had purchased the very best digital camera, the very video camera, and has it all strapped on commando-style. That's so him.

Mommy Brain

When I started this blog, I wanted to avoid only blogging about my little man. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but I felt I needed a space to wax poetic on all the other things rattling around up there. Turns out, he's all I think about (well, him and a couple others). For now at least.

Can you blame me?

Pumpkin Perfect

We had such a great Halloween. Last year, Nicky was a bit--actually, quite a bit--of a party pooper, but this year he really enjoyed himself and it was so much fun to watch. Chris and I loved walking him around our neighborhood in his wagon, imagining how much fun he'll have trick or treating these dark streets (there are no streetlights in our neighborhood), running with the groups of boys who passed us. When I think of the life ahead of him, well, it just makes me really happy.

After Nick went to bed (with his grandparents downstairs), Chris and I rallied ourselves out of the house in some last-minute costumes. We saw lots of crazy getups and felt a bit old, in the very best way. We travelled home with the leaves crunching under the tires, the windows down and the heat on our feet. Once we got there I picked my son up out of his crib and snuggled him, trying to commit to memory the exact weight, the exact smell of his warm, sleepy body. He was so exhausted he barely noticed.