Friday, May 28, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Charlie did walk up to Rich at the airport with a sign that read "Welcome to Michigan, Daddy". Rich did cry and hug him. Rich's sister did make it up here from Chicago. We did have breakfast together. We did sit on the back porch & drink wine as the little ones played in the back yard.
And Rich was able to relax and love on his little boy.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
So I wasn't out of California less than 48 hours and Rich had purchased this 1961 Chevy truck. Seriously. He went to look at it in some old man's garage in Anaheim at 10:30 am on Saturday, May 15. It was at our house by 1 pm that same day.
I'm now partial proud owner of a classic truck that I haven't seen except for these few photos and many, many, many a story from Rich over the phone. And text. And email.
Remind me to never leave town again.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
My Mom always said Bry was "the pretty one in the family". Sure knew how to make a girl feel good.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
In about 12 hours, Charlie and I will be on plane to Michigan. And leaving Rich for two whole weeks before he flies in to join us. I already have knots in my stomach about it. Although I’m excited to see our friends and family and take a break from all things work, I’ll miss him. And so will Chazzy.
Monday, May 10, 2010
The funniest part is that Perfectionist Robin was concerned about the packaging of the shipped boxes. She called to tell me they were completely ghetto and to apologize. These boxes showed up neat, tidy, perfectly taped and with Mother's Day cards taped to them.
And inside were very beautiful gifts. Thank you, Robin.
So park time was over.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
This morning started with me sleeping in. Coffee. Mimosas. Omelets. Lounging around. Getting my nails done. Going with my boys to EJ Malloys in Long Beach for a glass of wine and a sandwich. And just sitting outside at one of my favorite spots in all of Long Beach.
Then back home. More lounging. And watching Rich be the spectacular Dad and husband that he is. And watch Charlie joyfully play and babble. And get into all the stuff I just put away in this room. I guess it's back to life as normal now.
Oh, and Rich took all of these photos of me today. Another Mother's Day treat. He's learning how to use this big ol' camera of ours and is slightly less embarrassed that he looks like the paparazzi in our front yard.
But now, now I wish she were here. I would be in Michigan. There would be a catered brunch and beautiful flowers and lovely gifts. An occasion to dress up and celebrate. She would hate all the attention but secretly love all the fanfare of the event.
Yet, maybe every day was Mother's day for my Mom and me. When we did get together, there was fanfare. Nice restaurants, shopping, I remember the Christmas I bought her this little Coach coin purse. She literally wore it out, stuffed all her receipts in it, pulled it out of her purse every chance she got. Because she'd never buy herself something like that. I made sure we had long lunches sitting out in the sun. That she always, always had her favorite iced tea, a comfy robe, a good place on the patio to read her books while I was at work.
I called her every single day. 365 days a year from the time I left home. Who can say that? I lived 2500 miles from my Mom but if I took a Sudafed and switched from sweatpants to pjs, she knew it.
I just wish she were on the other end of the phone today, saying thank you for the lame card I sent her. And telling me about the sales at Wal-mart. And listening to me drone on about the dirty grout in my bathroom. And just being my Mom.
Friday, May 7, 2010
I saw this photo on Sarah's (Steve's girlfriend) Facebook page tonight and it struck a cord. So I played around with some editing. Made it vibrant like in my memories. And now it's posted.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Friday afternoon involved some tug of war between Charlie and his new best friend, Cook. (Don't worry, no animals were hurt in the making of this blog post.)
On Sunday, TomMish came down for an impromptu Sunday night dinner made with our fresh basil.
But Sunday morning, Charlie decided to act like Mom and Dad by drinking coffee and watching music videos. Don't worry, folks, he didn't really have coffee. Just some smokes and red bull later that night.
We actually grew basil. (Yes, Greg, basil, nothing but basil.) And it was delicious.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Today, 17 months old. And you're home with a fever and molars busting through your gums. Much like your mama, when you're sick, you're a great big baby. Crying, waving your arms around, and making little whining noises even when everything's ok. You also sleep a lot when you don't feel good, another one for team Mom.
In the last month, you've expanded your vocabulary to words such as "Oh dear", "shit", "more", "thanks", "shoe", and Daddy's favorite "da-da-da". I even coaxed "papa" out of you but I had to request it in Spanish.
You actually play with stuff. You balance one toy on top of another. Or you drape our laundry on top of your music table . . . or Cook. Then you hysterically laugh. You also climb on top of the ottomans (which makes me so nervous) and then applaud your own efforts.
I forgot about one other word: ball. But you don't say it just once. You repeat it over and over as you trespass into Mario & Maggie's yard to play with their basketball hoop. And even though I rushed out and bought you the exact same hoop and ball-ball-ball-ball, you'd rather have theirs. Welcome to the grass-is-greener, buddy.
Happy 17 months, buddy. We love you. Hope those teeth give you (and us) a break soon.
Mom and Dad