A Bear & A Brit & A Miley

Bear went on a little vacation to Grandma & Grandpa's this past weekend. Mom needed (needs) a break. We're officially convinced he's just bored of our house and bored of us. And was probably spoiled rotten by the two best grandparents. Apparently he was an angel, so it was nice for Alex to be baby free. We even saw a movie! The Spectacular Now. Got our fix of teen angst with a coming of age film. Brit, Alex, and I were pleasantly surprised. Well written, well acted. 
We were all reunited with the little guy last night. He ate in his teepee, pooped mid-dance, swayed to Django Reinhardt, and used his new teeth brushin' skills with Aunty Brit. The two Bs in this house are best buds. Meghan and I like to think we have a chance at being his favorite aunt, but Brit comes home each night and we don't really exist anymore. It seems as though we all have different roles in his life, and it's obvious that Brit takes the stand as the older teenage brother. Still figuring out what Meghan and I are. Maybe one day he'll let us know. 

After a huge red wine spill and multiple time outs, we caught the VMAs just in time. Even Barrett was dropping his jaw with Miley and Gaga's butts in his face. Or maybe it was all our talk about how we don't understand anything anymore. Guess that's the key to sleep since he eventually passed out in mom's arms. 

Wednesday Dinner

Josh came to our side of town last night for a dinner outside. I made lemon orzo with cucumber, feta, and parsley, Meghan made balsamic asparagus, and Josh sliced the French baguette and ate half of it throughout the process. Two days ago, Grandpa gave me five bananas that were on the verge of spoiling, aka perfect for banana bread. Alas, bread was baked! In the mix up of baking powder over baking soda and not having even a cup of sugar (and Josh's desperation for snacks), the three of us ventured out for a moonlit stroll to Rite Aid where we were greeted with the crazies of the city. Or maybe we were the crazies. Pretending to have a date in front of a Bud Lite display with children's sunglasses on is pretty crazy I guess. Josh got his ice cream, Meghan got a compliment from the man "guarding" the door, and I got my supplies needed to finish the damn bread...and some musical inspiration. I made them listen to Fly Like An Eagle about six times in a row and made a loaf that's so moist it might just tip over and collapse. 

                                                                             

A Peek Into Monday Night | 18 Months Old

These days, we're all just hoping that he has a good session of belly laughing and doesn't break his nose from flipping over the back of the couch. He's crazy and he knows what he wants. It's weird to think that when we moved in here--almost a year ago!--he was a drooly blob that couldn't be left alone. I sometimes look at him as he watches his "shows" and eats blueberries on the couch (that he sat on by himself,) and think that he doesn't need us anymore. Flash forward to five minutes after that peaceful sit sesh, and it's tugging on mom's knee caps wanting whatever he wants and whining about Bowie being upstairs. Everything is "mommy" and mommy is his everything. Brit usually comes in to save the night and whisks him upstairs for some rough housing while Alex, Megh, and I watch a bad TLC or ABC Family show. Or the Bachelor. Two nights ago, this is what happened, and Brit and the babe came back downstairs and caught a glimpse of the "Man with the 132 lb. Scrotum" special. Bear plopped into my lap and quietly passed out with food in his hand. I guess that's his new thing since the breast feeding-to-sleep battle is finally over! I can roll with that. 

Also, really into nudity. Any time, any room. 

                                                           

 [Words]

Bowie

Mommy

Dog/Woo woo

Cheeeeeeese!

Please

Sorry

Shows

Ball

Nose

Eyes

Whoa!

Uh oh! 

Hi/Bye

Apple

Bubble

Purple Skies & Madeleine Peyroux

We're on the eve of a full moon over here and it seems to have casted a heat spell within our house, while leaving the front porch calling our names. Tacos and quinoa warmed up the kitchen and a short walk (and a heavy tumble) to the mailbox warmed up Bear, Meghan, and Alex. After finishing the dishes with a slight facial, we brewed blueberry tea and set out for the porch. I made the ultimate Pandora station earlier today: Feist, Regina Spektor, Camera Obscura, Beach House, and Madeleine Peyroux. Meghan and I decided the toots and sweet whispers of those ladies were the soundtrack needed for our round of mancala. 
M looked like a hood-rat in her mosquito protection--black hoodie, black sweats, knee highs, and lace-ups. The moon was rising in front of me and downtown illuminated the sky in front of her. Brightness all around on this August night, and Bear and Alex joined the porch just in time for some dancin', smokin', and tea spillin'. Megh and I decided that Bear is the kid that shows up to the party, seems cool, gets wasted, punches a guy in the face, and is never seen again. Of course, he's our best friend, and the sap keeping us together, and his new bruise on the left side of his forehead just gives him his first flaw and a great story (and, of course, Mom her heart attack of the day). I'll have to have Megh post the waddle video.

It's been a fast and breezy summer with highs of only eighties so far. Feels as though there's a dawn of the death of high nineties, but dreams of crazy elevations and cabins along the river are getting us through the idea that we will be wearing sweat instead of cardigans in November with the Indian summer that hasn't greeted us yet.