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    He clearly missed the memo about hiding when you are doing wrong deeds

    February 12, 2008

    Today I was trying to get stuff done.  I don’t know why I bother because  I never get anything done.  But I try.  Honestly.

    I was sitting in the family room and The Baby wandered past the doorway.  His smile was so big I was instantly concerned.  Then I see a head pop up from behind the chair in the living room.  The head disappears as fast as it has appeared.  It was the quick peak of champions.  I turned my eyes back to The Baby.  He is still waddling past but I now notice that he is gnawing on something. 

    K:  What do you have?
    The Baby:  Ah.
    K:  What is that?  Give me that.
    The Baby:  (running away wildly)  AHHHHHHH!

    I ran after him.

    He had cranberry bark in his hand and all over his mouth.  Cranberry bark that we made the week before Christmas.  Roughly 7 weeks ago.  I snatched it out of his hand and decided to go straight to the source.  Nail his dealer, if you will.

    His dealer met me in the middle of the living room.

    K:  What’s behind that chair?
    The Boy:  Nothing, Mom (grasping my legs in an effort to keep me from rounding the chair). 
    K:  What are you eating?
    The Boy:  We aren’t eating anything, Mom.  There is nothing there.  (pushing me away from the chair).  Don’t look.

    There was the bag of candy, stashed behind the chair.

    Realizing he was busted, he took a different route.

    The Boy:  Mom, I wasn’t eating it.  I didn’t eat anything. 
    K:  Let me smell your breath.
    The Boy:  I WASN’T EATTTTTTTING IT!!!!

    As he opened his mouth to scream maniacally at me, I noticed his teeth were filled with chocolate.  He sensed the inevitable and ran.  Very fast.

    The Boy:  Dad, Dad, Dad.  Mom said to me “let me smell your breath” but I didn’t let her, Dad.  I didn’t have candy. 

    At that point, The Baby wandered by with yet another piece of bark.  He nodded to me and kept walking.  I don’t know what we are going to do when he realizes he should be hiding behind the chair to eat the candy. 

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    Baby’s all growed up

    February 11, 2008

    nate1.jpgAs I started to type this, I looked at the clock and realized that at this exact moment, one year ago, I held you in my arms for the very first time.  365 days ago, plus 5 minutes, I may have had a change of heart and said that you could stay inside, but I didn’t really mean it.

    They say that people are most often fooled when having a baby because babies sleep so much the first days after they are born.  They say it’s the trauma of childbirth.  Not you.  You were inside and then you were outside so fast that your head didn’t even have an opportunity to cone up.  It was happy hour and by God, you were getting your body weight in $1.00 beers.  Your father passed out at 9 but you hung in all night long.  Absolutely NOTHING has changed.  Nothing.  Not one thing.natetracey.jpg(Photo by Tracey Clark)    

    We brought you home and waited with anticipation for the arrival of your brother.  We should have known that The Boy with so tender a heart would just make more room in that heart for his personally owned Baby.  He liked you instantly.  Maybe it was because Dad told him that he had two arms and two boys.  Just enough room for both.  You thought he was all that and a bag of chips.  At less then one day old, you watched him like a hawk and grabbed his finger with a tight grip.

    You have grown a LOT in the last year.  You started walking (and apparently talking) about two months ago.  We noticed the walking cause that is pretty difficult to miss, but I have to admit that we kinda missed the talking part.  I guess we assumed that you would be on the same pace as your brother and not exceeding it.  As a second born myself, I can’t believe I made that error.  We realized you were talking when we asked your brother what he wanted to watch and you yelled “Bob!!!”  Well, alrighty then. 

    natecake.jpgYou have the best personality ever (but don’t tell your brother).  The smile on your face is always big and you are always laughing.  I don’t think I have ever seen a baby that was so winsome and cheery.  The only things that bring you down are hunger and being tired.  Frankly, I feel the same way. 

    Shockingly, since you come from such a compliant family, you don’t do anything you don’t want to do.  Saturday night, for the first time ever, you threw your legs over the stairs and went down three like you had done it a million times.  Six months I have been trying to teach you that.  Nothing.  It’s amazing how inspiring a brand new (and forbidden) I-Phone resting on the stairs can be.  You’ve have also taken to clearing out all of the lower cabinets when I am cooking dinner because you can tell I don’t have the time to stop you.  I look over and there you sit, surrounded by 786 pyrex bowels.  786 bowels that are now covered in dog hair and must be washed.

    You are the perfect wingman for The Boy.  It is at least once a day that the house gets too quiet and I wander around to find the two of you up to no good.  Your brother is inevitably explaining the conspiracy in great detail and you are clearly itching to just get into trouble, for heaven’s sake.  Every once in a while I will catch your brother shoving food off the counter into your waiting/chubby arms below.  You have been know to heckle him if he moves too slowly. 

    You and your brother spend most days wrestling wildly.  I have finally realized that your screams are staged for my rapid and dramatic entrance and in no way represent torture inflicted by your brother.  You can hold your own.  And you are about 20 seconds from kicking your brother’s ass.  I used to say that when that day finally happens, I will stand by and let your brother get his.  I have now seen, however, that your brother will most likely NEED my intervention.  You are one tough cookie. 

    dereknae.jpgYou give the best kisses.  There I am at the end of my rope because you and your brother have driven me crazy and you lean over with a big fat “MWAH!”   I can see forward 15 years when I go the police station to pick you up for the first time.  I imagine a kiss will melt my heart then too. 

    You are VERY helpful.  How else would Dad get the fire started in the stove or how would I start the shower when all I ever wanted was a bath?  You are also a bit of a drama queen.  You are quick to squeeze your eyes tight and let the tears flow.  You will then partially open one eye to see if it’s working.  Normally, it isn’t.  You perk right up and move on.  It’s a great quality.

    You have no fear, you can’t be bothered with the word “No” and there is nothing you can’t do.  Just the other day you climbed onto your brother’s tricycle.  Had your feet been able to reach the pedals, I’m not sure what would have happened.  You were VERY determined.  You don’t like what’s on t.v?  You don’t even watch t.v. but you find the clicker and change the channel.  You are something else, Nathan Clark. 

    Happy first birthday, our dear sweet Nae Nae.  Even when I cried as I looked at that sonogram and saw you were NOT a girl, I knew in my heart of hearts that you were so very special.  You have not disappointed us.  You are sweet and strong and funny and clever.  What more could a Mom ask for?  I can’t think of anything else.

    With all my love…

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    So you want to know where you can find Mommy Needs Chocolate shirts AND the best cup of coffee in Fairfax County?

    February 9, 2008

    Mommy Needs Chocolate at the Pink PantryHow cute! Mommy Needs Chocolate and the Pink Pantry
    I know.  I KNOW.  I know.

    Available at The Pink Pantry in Historic Downtown Clifton for $25.  Don’t confuse that with just Clifton.  They get a little feisty over it. 

    Head on over there today for the Chinese New Year celebration for free tea, free food, you name it.  If you go over there today, tomorrow (Sunday the 10th!!!!) or Monday the 11th and tell them Mommy Needs a Cocktail sent you, you will get a free drink on me!  It’s coffee.  Don’t get too excited.  I mean, it’s really, really good coffee.  I just know you were hoping for cocktails. 

    And if you, or someone who loves you, buys a Mommy Needs Chocolate shirt between now and COB February 14 and says that Mommy Needs a Cocktail sent you, you’ll get something extra special.  Let’s just say that a mommy who needs chocolate should HAVE chocolate too.

    It’s so friggin’ cute.  Just go down there.  My shirts are hanging on the wall, for heaven’s sake!  The new ones.  Not available online. 

    The Pink Pantry
    7144 Main Street, Clifton, VA
    703-830-2205

    Saturdays and Sundays 9-5, Monday through Friday 6-6.

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    If I open up my present on VD and it’s one of my shirts, I hope he paid full price

    February 8, 2008

    We are sitting on the couch watching Die Hard 37 and I am meticulously tying pretty red ribbon with pink hearts around my pretty pink “Mommy Needs Chocolate” t-shirts. Are they available on the internet? No, they are not. They are not available on the internet because I can’t figure out how to put the damn pictures in the shopping cart. Trena has promised to come to my rescue but my to-do list has 9 million things ABOVE that project.

    So why am I tying pretty ribbon around pretty shirts? Because I’m gonna take them down to the Pink Pantry tomorrow for the Chinese New Year celebration/party. Can I just say that it helps when one of your girlfriend’s owns the best coffee shop in Fairfax County and that she sells your shirts there? Preschool, your money’s a-comin.’

    But I am starting to get a little insecure. Maybe the intended audience for the shirts–lazy men who have failed to shop for their wives for Valentine’s Day–won’t think they are cute. I decided to try them out on my husband when he asked what the hell I was doing.

    K: Do you think these are pretty?
    D: I guess.
    K: Yeah, but do you think they will sell?
    D: Probably.
    K: I mean, if you saw it in the coffee shop, would you buy it for me?
    D: Babe, are you saying you want me to go to the coffee shop tomorrow and buy a shirt for you?

    I swear to God. The things that come out of this man’s mouth. We got married? Seriously? Seriously. First in his class? Really?

    K: Yeah, Babe. That’s exactly what I’m saying. After I spend 10 minutes putting a bow and tag on each shirt, I want you to go to the coffee shop and buy one for me? HELLO??? NO. If I wanted a shirt, I think I could make my own. I am just asking if you, as a dopey guy, would actually contemplate purchasing this for your wife as a last minute-not your usual Valentine’s Day present?
    D: Actually, BABE. I was just sitting here thinking that it was a pretty cool present to buy. I mean. If your wife is a mom and if she likes chocolate.
    K: There are women who don’t like chocolate?
    D: And it actually looks kinda wrapped. So a guy wouldn’t have to do anything.
    K: THAT is the point.
    D: Yeah, I think they are going to sell.

    Yeah, me too.

    I’ll post a picture tomorrow. All the camera batteries are dead. Sheesh!

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    If he was the presidential candidate, he wouldn’t have run out of money already

    February 7, 2008

    When Maribel showed up yesterday at 5:30, The Husband was already up.  I couldn’t pry myself out of bed because I had been up most of the night with The Boy.  And the rest of the night I was up with The Baby.

    I heard them chatting downstairs.  Maribel was telling him about her two sons.  That one was going to the University.  I zoned back out and woke up a little later to pots and pans banging in the kitchen.  If you gotta wake up, waking up to the sound of someone cleaning your kitchen is the only way to go.  I went downstairs to give my “good mornings.”

    As we were chatting, she went on and on about how much the kids looked like The Husband.  How big and tall he was.  And handsome.  How he was so nice.  All of these things are true.  Then she told me that The Husband was very excited because I was going to get pregnant soon and we were going to have another baby.  This one would be a GIRL!!! 

    I felt like I was watching a political ad on t.v.  “Yes, we CAN!”

    Did I mention she was telling me all of this in Spanish?  My powers of comprehension are excellent.  My powers to speak are greatly limited.  Anyone know how to say “we’ll have another baby if he gets a uterus” in Spanish? 

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    The phone is still in ICU, but we get to visit her every two hours

    February 6, 2008

    First of all, I want to thank everyone for the kind emails and comments about the near death of the phone.  I have yet to throw her into the face of someone working at an Apple store, but I think she may get her first flying lesson tomorrow.  It is remarkably difficult to operate a phone that doesn’t have the numbers 4, 5 and 6. 

    Today was quite a day.  The house got cleaned.  Don’t look at me.  That would be Maribel.  The nanny/housecleaner/taskmaster who will be coming twice a week so I can clean my house get things done.

    M:  What’s wrong with you?  We have one more room to clean today.  Are you tired?

    K:  Yeah, I’m tired.  I didn’t sleep last night.

    This I’m telling to a woman who left her house at 3:30 to catch a ride with her husband to get dropped off at my house at 5:30 so her husband could make it to work by 6.  As a matter of fact, I am one lazy ass.  Thank you very much.  6 hours of cleaning my house and I just wanted to lie down on the very clean living room floor and die of a heart attack.  But God forbid we don’t clean the dining room.

    There was one point that she caught me watching Bob the Builder.  Hey, it was that really good episode when they build the well.  It’s fascinating.  But she snapped her fingers and I was off to find a home for the 900 yards of ribbon and 30 lbs. of card stock.  She kept saying that The Husband wouldn’t even recognize the house because it was so clean.  She said he would be confused and turn around to leave.  I said as long as he took the kids with him, that would be okay with me.  Did I do one shirt today?  No.  No, I did not.  I did not make that shirt for your daughter, Ali Landry.  Your daughter will have to wait because there was no making Maribel wait.  She wasn’t tolerating any of that.  She had high hopes when she left today that upon her return on Monday at oh dark thirty, she will find a clean house.  Ha!  If she wanted to see the house clean, she should have taken a picture before she left.

    But thanks to Maribel’s torture, I have a clean house and now The Baby can have a birthday party.  Yay, BABY!!!  So it’s not actually your birthday yet.  Close enough for government work.  Wondering how that whole peer pressure, your brother had 80 photos hanging from the ceiling for his first birthday, is going to go. 

    maybe I could teach the kids how to print pictures between now and Saturday.  Using their powers for good instead of evil.  We’ll give it a whirl. 

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