Kellybeans!

I think most baby food is gross.  All that pureed stuff just turns me off.  And guess what?  My kid seems to think so, too.  There are only a few jarred baby foods that he’ll even attempt to eat.  Rice cereal?  Hell to the NO.  Pureed peas?  You must be joking, woman.  The good news is, he likes real food.  Like, the kind his daddy and I eat.  And he eats that stuff like a little piggy.

It’s getting fun, now, because Aiden loves finger foods and has been able to feed himself for about a month now.  He grabs that food in his fist and shoves it in his mouth, and he seems so proud of himself!  The only downside is how messy the process is!

Here’s what my little porker is eating now:

• chunky pasta, cooked soft, with either parmesan cheese or tomato sauce
• soft cheese cubes (halved)
• Yobaby yogurt (newly introduced and a huge favorite!)
• diced cooked veggies
• chunks of banana and peach (we share a banana every morning)
• other fruits in his mesh feeder
• mashed potatoes (his personal heaven on earth)
• lots of different soups
• oatmeal
• small bits of chicken and ground beef
• cheerios, zweiback toast, and crackers
• Gerber Carrot wheels
• jarred food:  Cinnamon Raisin Granola, Peaches & Bananas, Butternut Squash, and a few others.

Anyone have any other good suggestions for finger foods?  I like to give him lots of variety so hopefully he won’t be a picky kid when he grows up. So far, that doesn’t seem to be an issue.

Don’t buy bubble bath from the dollar store.  Even if it smells good in the bottle, it will smell like flea dip in your bathtub.

Self, stop being so damn cheap.  I know the family income is lower than it used to be, but that doesn’t mean you need to smell like dog.  Act like a bitch, don’t smell like one.  That’s my new motto.

Doesn’t it just figure… I go to all the trouble of:

1. Planning a menu of dinners for the next 7 days.

2. Writing a thorough grocery list.

3.  Diapering and dressing a wiggly almost-8-month-old

4. Getting myself cleaned up and dressed. 

5.  Loading the kid, my purse, my list, and myself into the car to go to the store

and…..

the fucking car won’t start.  The battery is dead.  Perfect.  Just perfect.

(Aiden’s quite happy with staying home, though.  Right now he’s gnawing on the TV remote and squeaking with pleasure.)

So you might remember me mentioning that I was a Miss America contestant a few years (and a few dozen pounds) ago.  Actually, that was… 7 years ago that I was Miss Maryland… and things have definitely changed.  Miss America has gone through some troublesome times in the years since I competed.  First, the pageant moved from its seaside home in Atlantic City, New Jersey and landed in Las Vegas (a change that I was sad to see).  Then network TV dropped the show and the pageant was picked up by CMT, then dropped by CMT.  This year, Miss America found a home at TLC, and has been working to establish a new image and get more viewers.

I’ve been saying for a while that Miss America has become somewhat irrelevant.  The contestants, while being smart and talented and well-spoken, just haven’t been able to connect with the TV audience.  These well rounded and community-service-driven women just were not “packaged” well.  They seemed… plastic… and came across as more old fashioned.  Miss America needed to get with the times. 

This year the pageant made it a point to encourage contestants to look their age.  Seriously.  Things that should be common sense, really.  Wear current fashions that are young, flirty, and age appropriate.  Trendy, beautiful haircuts.  Fresh, light makeup.  In other words… hey, 18 to 24 year olds!  Stop looking like you’re 40!  It might sound silly, but that’s what was happening.  I’m not sure what it is about pageants, particularly Miss America, but it seems like heavy stage makeup and overly hairsprayed ‘dos were the status quo.

I was excited to watch the pageant this year (it was on Saturday night, but I’m sure TLC will re-run it if you missed it).  I wanted to see if the contestants would actually follow the new directives of being fun, young, and fresh.  For the most part, I think I did see a difference.  I loved some of the clothes, there were a bunch of girls with the Posh haircut (you know the one I’m talking about!), and some of the contestants wore LIP GLOSS instead of heavy lipstick!  This is a BIG DEAL in pageant land, people! 

Funny enough, I wasn’t a huge fan of the actual winner.  Miss Michigan was actually the youngest woman in the competition, but she didn’t look it.  Her hair was sort of messy and teased up, she had heavier makeup on, and her lipstick… ugh.  I hated it… dark red and so thick it actually SMEARED on her teeth during her talent and got rubbed on her cheek when she won.  Yuck.

I could tell she was a very talented, smart, and beautiful girl.  It was just hidden under the overdone styling.  Still, I was a little disappointed.  Until I saw her appear on Re.gis and Kel.ly this morning.  She was fresh, cute 19 year old.  No ugly lipstick, no teased hair.  Maybe some stylists got to her and fixed her up… I don’t care how it happened, but I am glad.  I hope this new and improved Miss America can show people how great this program is… and bring it back into popularity.  It helped me with $20,000 for college, improved my confidence, and helped me land a job in TV.  I hope Miss America can live on and do the same thing for other young women for a long time to come. 

So, more on the talking thing… I’ve decided that I hate all the damn books and websites that tell you when your baby “should” be doing something.  I don’t know that I would worry about Aiden’s lack of talking if it wasn’t something I noticed in my books.  Around 5-6 months, apparently, he should be linking consonants and vowels, like “ma” or “da.”  And now, he should start babbling and linking them together (”ma ma ma”).  But he’s not doing any of that, really.  Every once in a while I’ll hear him say ba or da, but it is infrequent.  Anyway, I suppose that is the curse of having a kid who seems to do things almost months in advance.  He seems so advanced in so many ways that when he doesn’t do something on-time (or on the expert’s timetable, I should say) it sticks out like a sore thumb. 

It doesn’t help that I am, by nature, a worrier.  I like to sit and analyze and plan out my reactions to a worst-case scenario.  It’s especially hard to control that tendency when it’s my kid we are talking about, here!  I wouldn’t want to ignore a possible issue and then find out that he’d have been much better off if I’d have addressed the problem earlier.  Anyway, I just plan on seeing how he’s doing in the next month or so, and see what his pediatrician says at his next check-up.  I tend to agree with those of you who think he is 1. a boy who might not be as verbal as some girls may tend to be and 2.  so focused on all of his physical feats that he’s just not interested in sitting still and working on babbling yet.  What can I say?  He’s well on his way toward that “tall, dark, handsome, quiet man” stereotype!

No, I’m not about to write about my forays into exercising.  Because let’s be honest.  I am a lazy woman who would prefer to eat instead of workout.  This does not mesh well with the new tankini I purchased for our upcoming cruise, a tankini that arrived yesterday and will promptly be returned.  I guess I don’t look terrible, but I’m needing to lose some weight.  Oh well, that’s another post for another time.

The real meaning behind that title?  AIDEN IS CLIMBING STAIRS.  You read that right.  The child is just climbing up the entire flight of stairs with no issues whatsoever.  Yesterday I watched him climb up the first step and I thought, “Oh, I wonder how long it will take him to master this?”  Answer?  Within 5 minutes he was up the steps and on our second floor.  Shit.  And also, holy hell, am I in trouble!  I did take pics, but of course they are still on my camera.  What?  Don’t give me that look!  I’m too busy corralling this child and keeping him off the steps to bother uploading photos to my computer right now!

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s doing this, as it seems Aiden has always accomplished physical tasks early and quickly.  I just never figured my kid would be crawling, standing up, and CLIMBING the steps before he’s even eight months old!  Of course, he isn’t fast at everything.  I’ve been a little worried because he isn’t talking a lot.  Sure, he squeals and makes noise and blows raspberries, but he isn’t actually babbling.  No “mama” or “baba” or “dada.”  In fact, he doesn’t even really say “ma” or “da” or “ba.”  I suppose I shouldn’t worry too much, because he is incredibly happy and engaged with us.  He loves to mimic us when we stick out our tongues or open and shut our mouths, so I suppose mimicking our speech isn’t too far off.

Still, kid, I wish you’d chill out with the physical stuff for a little while and just focus on the verbal skills for now!  Your obsessive compulsive (worrying) mother would thank you.  And she’d love if we could just sit still for a while and talk.

When your baby is playing with the books on your bookshelf and pulls out “A Partier’s Guide to 51 Drinking Games,” you know you’re in for some trouble in the years to come.

Cheers!

So far, I’m thinking that 2008 is the year of zero blog inspiration.  I’m just not feeling it, dawg (thank you, Randy Jackson).  Sometimes I think the stay-at-home mom gig has stripped me of anything interesting to say.  Sure, I could come on here and write some random things about Aiden, but then I just get lazy and don’t bother.  I realize that I’m confused about the actual purpose of this blog.  Am I writing it for you, for me, or for my kid?  Am I trying to entertain those who stop by and read what little I have to say?  Am I writing to give myself an outlet and record my thoughts?  Or am I writing this for Aiden, so that one day he can read all the things I had to say about our life and his babyhood, childhood, and beyond? 

I guess it’s a combination of all of those things.  I must admit that I don’t really feel like I have much to say that anyone out there in internet-land could find all that interesting.  Sometimes I feel like my transition to all-mommy, all-the-time has superceded the rest of my personality and sort of… muffled… my identity.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve never been happier, but this stage of my life just comes with some challenges and it gets difficult to remember the “me” who existed before I became a mom, you know?  So sometimes, I admit, it seems like posting here and coming up with something fun and creative to say is just too much damn effort.  It’s not you, internet.  It’s me.  You’re worth the effort, but I am creatively stymied over here, okay?

I definitely love the idea of blogging as a replacement for journaling.  I like seeing a record of my thoughts and life here; being able to go back and read what was happening on any particular day.  And I definitely want to keep this blog as a way to record Aiden’s life so he can read it one day.  I remember reading a journal my mom kept the year that she graduated high school and met my dad, and I loved it.  It was fascinating to see who she was at that time in her life, and to imagine her as a young woman before marriage, and before kids.  I think my children would really enjoy reading about our lives and what happened as they were growing up, in a way that can’t really be captured within the pages of a baby book. (But this reminds me that I really need to watch my potty mouth.  Looking back, I realize that I curse on this blog all.the.damn.time {see?} and depending on when my kids would read this, that could be weird, couldn’t it?).

So I guess what I am saying is that I am struggling to find a balance here.  I need to make it a point to come here and just write, and stick with it.  And thanks for sticking with me as I just poured  out my stream of thoughts here now.  Ahh, that was cathartic!

I am getting pretty tired of TV right now.  There’s just nothing great that is on television now and I have resorted to Tivo’ing things like The Duggar’s Big Family Album and Dr. Phil.  Please, somebody save me.  I had high hopes for the new show Dance War: Bruno vs. Carrie Ann.  Okay, I just re-read that sentence and I need to take it back.  I actually thought this show would suck, and I was right.  I hoped it would be something decent, but I just can’t watch it.  It’s corny and the people really don’t seem that talented and… eh. I just don’t like it.

Fun fact, though… I actually knew Carrie Ann Inaba way back when.  She was our choreographer for the dance numbers at Miss America, and she was super cool.  I loved her, and that’s why I really wish I could like this show.  But I don’t.  It’s not really Carrie Ann’s fault… it’s just that the dancers/singers on the show sort of suck donkey balls.  (Imagine the Google hits I’m gonna get on that one. Woo-eee.)

So, anyone have any great TV suggestions for me?  Anything cool that I may have missed during my many travels up and down the guide channel?? Help a girl out, please!

Anyway, here’s what you probably came for… gratuitous baby photos!

He’s cute, and he knows it.  Just hold up the camera and he starts to grin.

We thought it was high time he learned how to drink from a bottle.

Best friends. 

Aiden had managed to once again weasel his way into our bed tonight, when he suddenly woke up crying.  Since I just nursed him an hour before, I wasn’t about to offer my services as the resident cow… there was no way he should be hungry.

So, I picked him up and tried to comfort him by walking around and singing softly in his ear.  And he cried.  And screamed.  And was generally mean to his mama, who was trying her damn best to soothe this cranky child.

Finally, I admit, I had it.  I couldn’t get him to calm down and the crying was getting to me.  I decided to put him down in his crib and let him cry there for a few minutes while I took a breather.  And whaddya know?  Within two minutes he had soothed himself and fell asleep.  Huh?  Sometimes the kid really confuses me.  But I’ll take it!

~~~

In other news… American Gladiators is back!  Remember this show from way back when?  I confess, I’ll be watching.  (But, damn, when will this writer’s strike end? This is getting crazy).

P.S.  Check out Hellga.  This is one gladiator biatch that I wouldn’t want to mess with.  She’d kick my ass from here to Sunday, but I love her name.  Hehheh.