Eli and his GrammyTuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Pictures from my mom and stepdad's visit (Eli's week 2)
Mr. Grouchy
Such a sweet picture of Eli and his Mimi
Eli (who appears to be finding his thumb) and Mr. Venegas (who appears to be finding grandfatherhood to be a blast)All photos provided by Mr. Venegas himself.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Mama Bear
One of the things I've noticed since becoming a mom is that I have learned to ask for what I need from others, rather than stuffing the need for it or doing it myself. This is even more true when it's my kid who needs something.
Case in point: on Monday morning, Eli and I are asleep in bed. The recycling truck stops outside our house, BLARING some obnoxious talk radio from speakers mounted on the outside of the truck. This happens every Monday morning and generally is not a problem, either because we are out of bed already or because they load up our recyclables and move on pretty quickly.
This guy, on the other hand, sits outside our house for 5 minutes, then 10 minutes. Eli is starting to go through his waking-up routine, which I am not happy about because it's not time yet and I'd had a rough time getting him back to sleep after his 5am snack. I lay in bed fuming for a while, then finally get up, put the kid down in his crib, pull on a sweatshirt, march downstairs and outside in my socks. I come around the front of the truck and can see the dude sitting in the driver's seat, chuckling at his precious radio host with his window open.
The bottom of the driver's side door is about 4 feet off the ground, but this doesn't stop me. I grab the bar on the front of the truck and haul myself up onto the truck so that I'm level with him. Dude looks up, startled to see some crazy-haired, bleary-eyed lady in a sweatsuit 18 inches away from his face where he did not expect to see her. I say "You are waking up everybody in my house, including my baby. Kindly turn that down, or move your truck." He was stunned for a minute, whether by my sudden appearance, my request, or my rank morning breath, I'll never know. Probably a combination of the three. He says "Oh, it's that loud?" I reply in the affirmative, pat him on the shoulder, and stomp back to the house. Of course, by this point, I can't sleep a wink as my heart is pounding. Once I get inside, I fully wake up and start giggling over what I've just done, completely out of character, with no hesitation whatsoever.
I'm excited to see what further antics my inner Mama Bear has in store.
Case in point: on Monday morning, Eli and I are asleep in bed. The recycling truck stops outside our house, BLARING some obnoxious talk radio from speakers mounted on the outside of the truck. This happens every Monday morning and generally is not a problem, either because we are out of bed already or because they load up our recyclables and move on pretty quickly.
This guy, on the other hand, sits outside our house for 5 minutes, then 10 minutes. Eli is starting to go through his waking-up routine, which I am not happy about because it's not time yet and I'd had a rough time getting him back to sleep after his 5am snack. I lay in bed fuming for a while, then finally get up, put the kid down in his crib, pull on a sweatshirt, march downstairs and outside in my socks. I come around the front of the truck and can see the dude sitting in the driver's seat, chuckling at his precious radio host with his window open.
The bottom of the driver's side door is about 4 feet off the ground, but this doesn't stop me. I grab the bar on the front of the truck and haul myself up onto the truck so that I'm level with him. Dude looks up, startled to see some crazy-haired, bleary-eyed lady in a sweatsuit 18 inches away from his face where he did not expect to see her. I say "You are waking up everybody in my house, including my baby. Kindly turn that down, or move your truck." He was stunned for a minute, whether by my sudden appearance, my request, or my rank morning breath, I'll never know. Probably a combination of the three. He says "Oh, it's that loud?" I reply in the affirmative, pat him on the shoulder, and stomp back to the house. Of course, by this point, I can't sleep a wink as my heart is pounding. Once I get inside, I fully wake up and start giggling over what I've just done, completely out of character, with no hesitation whatsoever.
I'm excited to see what further antics my inner Mama Bear has in store.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
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