Sep
5
September 5, 2006
We arrived home mid-morning from our weekend in Oregon (driving 6 hours with a small child? Bah), and I am greatly looking forward to my own bed tonight, my own TWO FUCKING PLY toilet paper (1-ply: why?), and frankly, heading to the office tomorrow where my assistance is not required for the cleanliness of anyone’s butt crack. Unless my job description has been woefully overhauled recently.
Vacations are no longer restful, that’s for sure, but Riley’s presence makes greens greener and the air sweeter. Of course, it helped that we actually got a night on our own, which must be why the baby Jesus made grandparents.
Photos!
Birthday cake part deux. He still didn’t like it.
Standing under a neighbor’s grape…bush? Tree? Grape…thingie.
Ha ha haaaa, HOWDY COWPOKE.
Not pictured: the earsplitting wailing sound the boy was making as I attempted to get him dressed.
The coastal town of Florence, where JB and I spent the night on Sunday.
We flew a kite. As in, “Aw, go fly a kite.” We did not, however, piss up a rope.
I can’t remember the last time I held a kite. Note to self: fly more kites.
Beach and sandpipers.
Hiking with JB, the boy, and Dog. I can’t remember why they were both peering in Dog’s ear like that.
Looking through a knothole in a wooden shed.
Nothing says “casual” like an arm slung all awkwardly over someone’s shoulder, you know?
Sun, setting.
Sep
1
September 1, 2006
Look, I crafted an honest-to-god homeade cake for the boy’s birthday! No shit, I used a Martha Stewart recipe and everything.
It’s heart shaped, people. That right there is carrot cake with cream cheese icing, so it is both cute AND nutritious. Vegetables! Protein! Dairy! My god, it’s practically a delicious novelty-shaped vitamin.
Look, Riley! It’s your first birthday cake, which your mother lovingly baked all by herself! Using actual ingredients! Can you feel the magic?
…you seem awfully suspicious, dude.
Well, maybe if your dad holds you, THEN you’re sure to get excited about this cake and maybe even try it out, right?
Or…not. Okay, you’re clearly a little unsure about the cake. That’s cool, that’s cool, I understand. You’re only a year old, I guess it takes time to, like, embrace the concept of cake (thatIbakedwithmyownhands). How about we try it from the highchair?
Well now you’re just mushing it around, and — hey! STOP SMEARING IT ON THE WALL GODDAMMIT. Dog? Oh, Dooooog?
[NOT PICTURED: the dismayed Face of Gag after tasting one. solitary. molecule.]
All right, forget the cake. How about a present?
Now that’s more like it.
:::
A very happy birthday overall, and thank you for all your great comments, which I am totally going to print for his baby book. That would be the never-touched baby book I really should fill out one of these days, except I am weirdly intimidated by having to hand-write stuff because ahhhh, there’s no Undo (note to self: find a pencil) and also I may have already forgotten the answer to every stupid question in there (“You followed an object with your eyes on ____ date” – um, yeah, I have absolutely no idea).
Anyway, we are driving down to Oregon today to visit JB’s family for the long weekend, and I am bringing about a million of those flipping cupcakes because by god someone’s going to enjoy them and praise my effort, OR ELSE.
Talk to you next week! Now excuse me, I have to go eat leftover cream cheese icing with a spoon.
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