The Adorable Factor

If it were not for my husband's charm and good looks, I might think he was rather an oddball. The Adorable Factor takes him far.

To wit, he will not sleep with any sheet/pillow/blanket/comforter that is not white. White, I tell you. I bought very nice cappuccino-colored sheets, which he hated, and when we were drifting off to sleep, he said, "I can almost feel the brown in these..."

Today I bought an artsy, chocolate duvet, and since he hates most things French (except French wine, which he wisely loves), namely things brown and French, he's going to have an absolute fit when he sees it. (Definitely when he feels it.)

That damn duvet smelled like hell out of its plastic casing. So horrible, that I tossed it in the dryer for 30 minutes with a stack of Bounce. Still smells bad. I sprayed some air freshener in our bedroom to disguise it. The only kind I had: French Vanilla.

He and I had a cook-off yesterday. We spent the entire day in the kitchen, taking turns watching Sam. We had so many leftovers today that I had my dad over for lunch to help eat them.

Birthday month starts tomorrow! September is so gorgeous.

Shots and Themed Parties

I called Sam's pediatrician this morning to get his updated medical profile for school, but they refused to send one until I brought him back in for more shots. Our pediatrician is very good, very old school, but she doesn't realize who she's messing with. She wanted to give him 4 shots, and was quite surprised when I said, "No thanks." He got another Dip-Tet, only because I loved the tender way Francis McDormand spoke of it on Raising Arizona. I'll take my sweet time getting him another.

Because he was such a brave boy, I took him to McDonald's, and just like the last time that I treated him to McDonald's (for his last shot, whenever that was), he hated it. Sam is a veggie eater. He prefers broccoli to hotdogs, edamame to chicken nuggets. I'd say about 75% of his diet is true organic (the FDA has changed the requirements for "organic," so don't be fooled), and he's on the 95th percentile for height! And get this: he loves brushing his teeth.

Matt took him to the grocery, and I'm home alone for a bit. Time bandit. Matt's going to whip up something for dinner, and when you ask Sam if he wants to help Daddy cook, he replies, alongside a nod, with: Sea Salt. He sits high on a bar chair next to Matt, close to the oven, and they cook away.

One thing I must mention, because I get so carried away with my devotion to Samuel, is that I have the absolute best husband. I do. Matt makes me laugh even if we're arguing. He's an amazing dad and an amazing person, and he saved his company $10,000,000 last week because he's also brilliant!

And, Matt and I are equally addicted to the Backyardigans. We sing the songs in our heads all day, and Matt will come home from work saying, "Damn the Backyardigans, damn them all." We all sit on the bed together and watch at least one episode a day, for our health.

I'm planning Sam's second birthday party. It will, of course, be hosted by Pablo and Tasha. I've given into my first "theme," damn it all to hell, something I said I'd never do! We're going to have an Elsie, Ella and Elle at the party, just to add more chaos.

But I do make the most amazing treat bags. : )

Terrible Twos

I'm supposed to be writing an article right now; I'm supposed to be editing a novella; instead, here I am.

Sam wrote on my computer screen today with a pen. I Googled it immediately, and I got it out with Colgate toothpaste and a baby wipe, so Sam can remain living here. He's really entered the Terrible Two's lately, testing me and finding that last button to push each hour. I have no idea how anyone with children can work from home - it's impossible. Oh, but he's so darn gorgeous (I'm his mom, I can think this all I want); I forgive him easily.

Everyone who meets him thinks that he's three, and he's not even two. He's freakishly tall. Everyone stops to say hello to him, comments on his "pretty" blonde hair or big blues. Friends tell me all the time to get him into modeling. I dunno. I don't want a stuck-up kid, or a kid that worries about his looks all the time, or spends hours in front of a mirror. I want a kid who plays in mud and rides horses, like the kid I've got! Matt especially doesn't want him "modeling" because vanity pushes him over the edge...but maybe we could pay for his college? : )

Eh, I'll think about it. So much going on right now. Angie & Ev are living in Atlanta now (soooooo much cooler than Florida). I'm going down there soon. Matt and I are both so busy we're ready to scream, but we love it at the same time. I cannot believe how much I accomplish in one day. And no more desk jobs! Whoo-hoo! God, I could never be an attorney - I'd blow my brains out. I need freedom and rhythm.

Matt's going surfing in Puerto Rico, and I'm gonna go on my own jaunt. Then, well, big plans for us. More soon on that!