New HufPo: Remembering My Fallen Soldier on Memorial Day

http://tinyurl.com/2uyu5rp

Breakfast of Champions

Her Bad Mother recently posted about her daughter being a picky-eater, and how she's coping with it. I like HBM's philosphy: live and let live. That's pretty much what we try to do with the Juban Princeling. I don't believe in forcing him to eat things he doesn't want to eat. He's not going to let himself starve, it's true, but he's also inhumanly willful and stubborn and WILL go to bed hungry if we let him. (And then he'll wake up every hour thereafter until we give him something he'll eat.)

When he first started on solids just over a year ago, he ate anything and everything he could cram into his piehole. Lately, though, he will only eat most fruits, but especially grapes and bananas, a few veggies like green beans, peanut butter crackers, peanut butter sandwiches, and the occasional organic cheese bunny. And popcorn. And you know what? I'm fine with that. Because now and then he'll pick some food off our plates or try something new. He scarfed down half my edamame at a local Japanese place a few weeks ago, and ate some spaghetti off my fork the other night. (The night before I was diagnosed with strep. Hooray for awesome parenting!) So, you know, he's getting there. I honestly feel like this will not hurt him as he grows up. I'm confident that he's not going to turn 30 eating only grapes and peanut butter. So if he really doesn't want to eat Sunday night's leftover butternut squash and plantain mash that my husband made from scratch, that's OK with me. Someday he will. I can wait.

We Have To Go Back!

Anyone else stockpiling anti-depressants and booze for tonight's "Lost" finale?

:-(

Safe & Sound & Exhausted

What is it about vacations that just wipes you out?

We had a fantastic time in Florida - the Princeling had so much fun we were quite tempted to leave him there. We're sure that his grandparents and he would have loved that, not to mention my friend Tia who plans trips to NY just so she can babysit him, and my cousin One-L with whom the Princeling developed a total Mutual Admiration Society. She may be 21 years his senior and his second-cousin once-removed (...I think? We just called her Auntie One-L), but the two are in luuuurve. I told her if she wants to intern at any NY firms this summer she's more than welcome to stay with us on condition that she babysits for her room and board.

Meanwhile, the Princeling was a total champ on both plane rides and the entire time we were down in FL. He behaved very well, only threw up twice (once in the car going to LaGuardia, and once on his way back from being forced to visit my father's father, and honestly I don't blame him as the man makes most of us puke), loved the pools, and came back to NY with a slight tan and even blonder hair than normal. This bodes well for any future vacays we might need to take with him.

The hubby and I celebrated our four-year annimiversary on Thursday. My parents were kind enough to send us to the Ritz-Carlton on Key Biscayne for the night. We enjoyed the luxuries we've so missed since the Princeling was born: a late dinner with no high chair or booster seat or toys, sleeping in, and peace and quiet all to ourselves.

Still, as much fun as we all had, we're glad to be back in Park Slope. Despite the Princeling's absolute meltdown once we got back in the apartment (like what, was he storing it up all week?), realizing that we unplugged our DVR and it therefore didn't record any of our shows, and my current massive headache, there really is no place like home.


Water Mama and Her Water Baby




For Varda's benefit: The Princeling in his harness




Having a snooze on one of our two balconies at the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne. It's tough being so pampered and spoiled. And why yes, that IS champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries by my chair.

Where the Orange Blossoms Grow

We arrived in Florida on Saturday after a blessedly uneventful flight with the Princeling. He was clearly tired but couldn't get comfortable in our row. Still, he was a champ and didn't have any meltdowns. He colored with his crayons - and, yes, I let him color the window shade and tray table in front of him because the airline was a total ripoff and didn't have pillows or blankets and charged for water - and climbed up and down the seats. Half an hour before landing he fell asleep in his father's arms:


Once in Florida we rented a car with a toddler seat, despite Florida law that practically allows newborns to wear only an adult seatbelt. We stripped the Princeling down to his diaper and flip-flops because Florida is one giant swamp and we didn't want him to melt. We drove through a McDonald's and gave the Princeling some fries and felt very South Florida - here's some fast food for our almost-naked toddler! Yee-haw!


So far so good down here. The Princeling seems to really enjoy it here, though mostly indoors - outside he walks two steps then demands to be carried. In West Palm he only napped in the car, but here at my parents' in Miami he seems to be napping well in the rent-a-crib my parents got for him. And his night sleeping is excellent. His first night here he slept 14 hours! He's terrified of the ocean but loves the pools. He learned how to play catch with his bisabuelo (my hubby's grandfather) in West Palm, and was the absolute star of the show at my grandma's retirement community. We bought him a floating lobster for the pool that he loves, and my parents are by far his favorite people on the planet for whom he goes down to sleep with no issues and eats without fighting them. At this rate we'll probably just leave him here when we return to NY on Saturday.

New HuffPo: Shat Shout-Out

In which I actually HOPE for a gremlin on the wing of the plane to entertain the Princeling:

http://tinyurl.com/25f2xc4

Tricksy Hobbit Strikes Again!

This morning the Princeling stood up on our couch and made to pull the cord of the standing lamp we have. He knows he's not allowed to, but he keeps trying anyway. He looked at me. I looked at him. He giggled. I gave him my "Oh no you'd better NOT!" face (perfected on Hubby over the years). He pulled the cord and turned off the light. Then he clapped for himself and looked at me. I said, "NO!" He reached for it again. I said, "Princeling, NO!" So he...grabbed Hubby's book, which sat on the shelf just below the lamp. Then he sat down with it on the couch and pretended to read. Then he looked at me all, "What? I fully intended to get the book this whole time. What did you think I was going to do? Geez, Mom, paranoid much? Can't a kid read in peace?"

Yeah right, like I really believe that kid is so interested in travel stories about Cuba all of the sudden.

Tricksy Hobbit!

Mother's Day 2: The Wrath of Mother's Day

My second Mother's Day was lovely. Spent the day with my mom and Aunt L. and the Princeling, who gave me the gift of a 3-hour nap (his, not mine).

Meanwhile, despite my husband's whining about it, my adventures with the Hipstamatic app on my iPhone continue unabated. Here, some "art" of my naked son.



And some "art" of the Princeling walking with an entourage of Baby Boomers.



Friday we fly down to Florida for 8 days, so I won't be posting much. But I promise photos and hilarious anecdotes when we get back!

Profiling the Mother Load

The May issue of New York Family is up on the website - keep an eye out for the print issues in the teal-colored kiosks around New York - and in it is my profile of actress, author, blogger, and hysterically funny mom Amy Wilson (scroll down):

http://tinyurl.com/3a9m7xt

Check out Amy's website here: http://www.amywilson.com
and her blog, Mother Load, which is so funny it makes the Hubby and I laugh so hard we cry, here: http://motherloadshow.blogspot.com

Keeping a Fresh Fruit Bowl Makes Me Feel Like Martha Stewart

The apples and pear are from yesterday's farmer's market at Grand Army Plaza. The citrus (limes, lemon and oranges) are from the supermarket. I like keeping our freshly bought fruit in a big bowl on our dining table. It makes me feel wholesome and good.

Imaginations Gone Wild!

I've always been a big Freddy Krueger fan. He's witty and ironic and the entire Freddy franchise is just so silly and ridiculous and absurd that they are more like funny cartoons than scary slasher films.

The other night my brother-in-law Gilligan was here, and we got to talking about horror films and whether or not any of us was planning to see the new Freddy remake. We haven't heard great things about it, and in my humble opinion a non-tongue-in-cheek Freddy just isn't worth watching. I mean, come on! The guy is a former kiddie killer who now hunts teenagers in their dreams. How is that not funny???

Then Gilligan told us about a movie he heard about called The Human Centipede, and I will spare everyone the details because just hearing the premise of this movie will make you want to stab yourself in the face. I made the mistake of reading an online article about the film right before going into the shower today. Hubby and the Princeling were downstairs getting the laundry. I was all alone in the apartment...

Our bathroom door has trouble staying shut, so while I was showering it opened of its own accord. Which, of course, made me think of Psycho and that infamous shower scene. Then I turned off the water and heard the doorbell ringing over and over. Of course. Of course! This is a classic set-up in horror movies: the female victim, her vulnerability emphasized/visualized by her nakedness, lured into the killer's trap. Except that instead of being a hottie teenager I'm a slightly overweight 34-year old. Dripping wet and wrapped in a towel, I checked the peephole on our door. It wasn't a sociopathic slasher, it was just Hubby and the Princeling. When they went downstairs I had accidentally locked them out.

No more horror movie discussions right before I take a shower alone.