Cuddling Protest

I'm still a little high on Obama's acceptance speech as the Democratic candidate last night, and I'm looking forward to casting my vote November 4. I want to get involved this time - I have some extra hours here and there to make phone calls, whatever he needs. Like many people, I'm surprised by John McCain's choice for VP. I suppose since I'm a woman I'm supposed to want to vote for her, especially since she kept a special-needs child and all. You know what? So what. I would have kept it too, and that doesn't make me eligible for the presidency. I think McCain is grasping, so let him grasp. Plus, she's more right-wing than McCain and she hunts: yuck!

As an aside, have you ever noticed how the bad guys in movies are always blonde (i.e. all 007 movies and the Karate Kid)? That pisses me off. Sam is the sweetest and I hope he gets cast as the lead.

Sam is listening to "This is the sound the rooster makes...." (etc.) behind me. I wonder why I spend so little time writing these days.

I gossiped with Matt's mom today ... we love to laugh at certain things. She's funny, I like her a lot. Matt is like his mom.

She and I are going to venture out and see Hemingway's grave in Ketchum, Idaho while we're there. I want to see all of the historical spots, ski a bit, sit by warm fires. I'm really looking forward to it, and suspect that I won't want to leave.

Matt is a cuddler and I am not. This problem reoccurs nightly as I'm saying, "Get off," and he's moving in for the kill. Last night he was hugging me (I think I was actually about to suffocate), and I tried to move his leg. He said, "Don't try anything stupid." I laughed so hard that the suffocation ceased, and I let him linger a few more minutes. I love to cuddle while watching a movie (Ok, I'm sort of lying; even then, I don't really like it), but certainly not when I'm trying to fall asleep. It's hot. It's late. Get off of me. Period.

With that, goodnight.

Free Form

I always have so much to say, but by the time I've wiped Sam's face for the last time of the day, I've forgotten most. I'm reading the book, "Loving Frank," about the affair between Frank Lloyd Wright and his love-of-life. I read one or two chapters a night, just enough to feel like I'm staying within the literary realm, but the book is touching, and sometimes I have to put it down and sigh.

I couldn't be happier that the Olympics are over. I wonder if they were so crooked in the beginning.

I was wondering today why there are still towns called "Lynchburg" in America. I can only imagine the freed slaves looking for a new place to live, saying, "Honey, according to this brochure, I don't think we should move here..."

Matt and I are preparing for Sam's first birthday (go Virgo, go Virgo), and we're looking forward to a trip by ourselves to Seattle in October, then Sun Valley Idaho for New Years. I've heard so many stories about Sun Valley (the skiiing, the hiking, the fights), and I can't wait to see it. We're flying home from Vegas and will have Sam one night there - that should be a hoot. Vegas is definitely not on the top of my travel list, but I'm actually looking forward to taking some candid photos. I've never seen it, never wanted to see it, but it'll be entertaining at the least.

We took Sam to see his great-grandmother Brooks today...that happy little grandma Santa Claus. She has the best outlook of anyone I know, and I sometimes question if she's really, possibly, in my family.

Sam is going to see Dede tomorrow, and I know he loves those special days. I've been having nightmares about him going to school; it starts in less than 2 weeks. I'm terrified. I want to come up with an excuse to keep him home. He needs his mommy. I need my Sammy. Whaaaaaaa! Seriously, I've been waking up from these horrible dreams that someone is a). plotting his death; 2). running away with him; or 3). has locked him in a closet with no bottle.

Beth took Finn to kindergarten last week, and she said that his last words were, "Mommy, I'm scared." She cried all day.

I think I may cancel nursery school.

Matt is the most wonderful, patient man I ever could have met, and I want it to be known that I don't really deserve him, but he's mine. Thank God!

Photographer in the making

Sam had his first professional photo shoot and I've decided that it's nothing I can't do myself. So, this week, or maybe next, when I have some free time, I'm buying a new SLR camera. A really nice one.

I've already checked in to buying lights and backdrops too. Not cheap. But the girl who took Sam's pics took several outside with the sun in his eyes, while he squinted, and I kept saying, "Uh, excuse me, don't ya think...I mean maybe...I mean, don't ya think?" Sheez.

I told Matt's mom today that Sam is really funny and she said, without hesitation, "Oh, he gets that from Matt!" That seemed really funny to me.

These words came out of Matt's mouth once: Jill, can you pick up Sam's toys in the kitchen so that I can cook?

Yes, he is lucky to be alive.

But I woke up this morning, and the first thing I thought was, "Man, am I glad I married this guy." He's incredible.

Sam is incredible too, and I think about him 98.5 % of my days!

And the biggest joke of the day: tonight we're going to something actually named "Sausage Fest."

A small prayer...

Please God, please don't ever make me watch synchronized swimming again.

White Expo

We took Sam to the State Fair last night. Once again, and I have no idea how this keeps happening: there were no horses there. There were donkeys and mules and, sure, Sam thought they sounded pretty good, but I was dying to show him Percherons.

We ate Italian sausages, funnel cakes and elephant ears, saw the world's biggest pigs and some cows, a group of geeky girls clogging to Irish music, and we left.

It was magical.

TV Days

Fatal Attraction is on in the background and I just told Sam to never date a woman named "Glenn."

I'm happy today, wonderfully happy. Happy that I have the parents I have (Debbie is a parent); happy that I have the best husband and child; happy about my family in general; happy that I can walk to the grocery; happy that I had lunch with my besty pal Eric.

My sister-in-law (sister, really), Beth, took Liam to see Dave Matthews this weekend. I hear that Liam was the superstar of the crowd. Finn, at the same time, was apparently sleeping at my dad's house with handcuffs on his ankles. Both: characters. I can't wait for Sam to do crazy things, to stand on his seat and watch a rock concert. The Brooks genes are strong genes when it comes to music.

Saw Kevin today, like I knew I would: veggie delight at Illinois Street.
I stopped buying plastic packaging. Influence.

Sam is taking steps, my hero. My little cute guy. I just turned to smile at him and he had a play grocery basket in his mouth.

LOVE!!

Now he's pulling on my shirt.

LOVE!!!!!!!

Uh-oh, rabbit cooking in the pot...must turn channel.

Parenting

...is difficult sometimes.

A few times I've wanted to scream, "For God's sake eat your fruit medley!"

But instead I smile, maybe giggle, tickle his toes and say, "Come on Sammy, airplane's comin' in for a landing..."

We went to the waterpark with Autie & Uncle Beth & Jason, Angie, cousins Eva, Liam & Finn today. Sam wasn't afraid of anything, water straight up the nose. He's so cool.

Beth and Liam are at Dave Matthews right now. When exactly did I slip into oblivion?

Matt is afraid to die...

Still, I tell him that it wouldn't kill him to wash a pan or clean Sam's bottles from time to time.

I'm so funny.

Daisies and Such

One thing I don't miss by staying home with Sam is office politics, office luncheons and, overall, offices.

Sam will be 10-months-old tomorrow and we'll celebrate at my, er, his favorite place, the Flying Cupcake. With those prices they'd better fly!

He took 2 steps on his own early this week, followed each day by at least one step. I'm trying to remember that song about putting one foot in front of the other...and soon he'll be walking out the door. I don't want that, but I'll love when he can walk because I won't have to CARRY him all the time. Oh, my little chunk.

I signed him up for school today, which begins September 4. It was fun filling out the paperwork - kids have so much paperwork! He's only going on Fridays, but it seems like such a big deal. My goal is to stay home and nap; I mean write. Yeah, yeah, write. So hard to do.

I keep stealing flowers out of the neighbors' yard because they're on vacation. : ) They have more than they can handle...

Daddy-o's birthday

Sam and I met my dad and Deb for lunch at the Illinois Street Food Emporium for my dad's birthday. We ran into my old beau Kevin, who joined us for a while, and seemed horrified that I was feeding Sam from a plastic container. I also tried to hide the bacon on my plate. : )

Sam is very sweet on my stepmom, Deb. She got up for a refill and he cried. I said, "Um, Sam, Mommy's here..."

But he's at my feet right now wondering why I'm not giving him total attention. Yea, he's still sweet on me too. Shew.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

The Deal

Last year I was preggo on the 4th of July, and Matt made me wear 2 thick blankets so as not to frighten "the baby." This year we had a little fireworks display for Sam in the backyard. He looked at us like, "This is very irregular, Mom and Dad." He wasn't afraid, though. Braveheart.

Sam is about to walk, holding his stance for several seconds at a time. Life is over for me now...!

Oh, but he's so ADORABLE, especially when he screams.

I told Matt that if he quits smoking I'll have another baby: he does something hard and I do something hard. ; )

Just don't know what to do with myself...

Debbie and Dad have Sam all day. I'm freaking out. I'm free!

Of course I've already spent a good deal of the day cleaning the house and worrying about the replacement of Tim Russert. Please God, not Matt Lauer. I cannot stand Matt Lauer (nothing personal).

Our new place is coming along nicely. I finally spent the money burning a hole in my pocket and bought us a new desk - it's gorgeous, and huge. I mean, really huge. And because we have to keep cords under lock and key, and out of the way of Sam, I'm literally stretching my arms to type.

The walls here are made of plaster (1920s), and trust me, you don't want to see my handywork behind the art hanging. I've practically had to superglue things to the walls.

I joined Facebook and that was big news in the Quad household. "Jill is on Facebook! No way!" It's fun to keep up with and an eye on them.

Matt gets home tomorrow night. Absence is good - I miss him like mad. He always sends romantic emails, which helps. He's such a great guy.

Sammy is 9-months-old. We celebrated yesterday with some fudge that Matt's parents brought.

Think I'll go for a run now. ; )

Hive of WASPs

Hubby is in Denmark...where we may all be soon. More to come...

We've had our families in town for two weeks (whew); Matt and I went to Zoobilation on Friday (prior night-out photo included), our favorite date night all year. My favorite sighting: Faith and KC. Love those cool cats.

Matt flew to Europe yestereve, and Sam and I both took a 2 hour nap today. Entertaining grandparents is such hard work.

I ran into two old boyfriends this morning at Starbucks, the Scotsman (good guy), and the asshole (one of the many). Thank God for Matt. Matt called from Denmark and I will join him there soon. Mmm. Sam talked to him: Da da da da da da da da da! His words, verbatim. : )

Baby Transport

Writing seems to be a thing of the past; as is reading a book or straightening my hair. Sam is everywhere all at the same time, and I spend most of my day saying, "Don't touch that" while lifting him to safety. I figure I pick him up about 113 times a day.

We moved to the Meridian Kessler area. I walk everywhere now...love it!


My mom and her new hubby are here this week (call me, I'll fill you in). He's very nice, even if he is from near Roanoke, VA. ; ) He calls me sweetie and sugar.



Sam's definitely hit his mama's boy stage. I can't be out of sight at all, or he cries. It's kinda cute, and kinda annoying as hell.



I share every minute and every meal with him; it's great watching him learn. He'll be 9-months next week...unbelievable.



Matt and I are having a date tonight (Ambrosia, our favorite)! We do find many moments alone, and Sam is giddy when he sees us kiss. It's all very sweet.

Don't look away

Last night as I was watching Obama make his acceptance speech, goosebumps on my skin, Sam sitting next to me, he managed to put the hook of a plastic hanger down his throat. It took 5 seconds. He was screaming. It was my first time feeling like a horrible mother, after all of those other times. He's 8-months-old, weighs 22.6 pounds and is pulling himself up on any available piece of furniture.

Today, he and I walked down to the 56th and Illinois Street shops in our new 'hood, and shared a stawberry Gelato at the Flying Cupcake. I felt like a good mom then.

Obama

I believe in things again...

YEA!

Can't wait to cast my vote in November.

What, write?

Here bloggy, bloggy, bloggy...

I almost forgot about you. We're moving this weekend into a new casa just down the street from a liquor store! (56th and Illinois). My back is broken from packing/moving boxes, and it seems to be affecting my typing skills as well. (Or is that the wine?)

Matt and I had a date tonight....met for drinks and dinner downtown. Wow, it felt like a date from times gone by: sweet.

Enter tumbleweed.

Sam is crawling, talking (mama, dada, baba), weighs 22 lbs and is so adorable! I miss him every night when he sleeps. Now that is love.

A black woman went crazy for Sam today at Trader Joe's, yelling, "He's perfect! He's flawless!" I whispered in Sam's ear, "She's a crazy person, don't worry." He smiled pretty for her. I don't get caught up in flawlessness, never have; I concentrate on songs and hugs.

False Advertising

The photo on the First Years child gate box, the one of the child happily smiling, peering through the gate while his mother is in the next room working, is highly deceptive and, for that matter, complete bunk.

As is evidenced while Sam lies on the other side of our First Years gate screaming bloody murder (perhaps practicing Lizzy Borden's ritual in the mirror when I'm not looking?) because my attention has been divided.

Alas.

I'm about to launch some "Mommy articles" and this is the beginning of the first. Hats off to me, my aching back, the number of Aleve I take each day and the fact that Sam let's me run with him in the rain. He's so cool.

Happy Mother's Day

My boys got up and greeted me on my first Mother's Day. Sam got me a very sweet card, and Matt took us all to brunch at Maggiano's, where, for $32 per person, you had a 6 course meal. It was ridiculously American in Little Italy, and we brought home 9 containers of food. Service was awful, and our little bus girl didn't speak a word of English. She came by after we'd been eating for about 4 minutes and said, "Take this away?" Matt replied, "In a few minutes..." She started picking our plates up and staggering them up her arm, because she had no idea what "in a few minutes meant," and Matt continued, "Or, now..."

I laughed so hard I cried. I felt badly because I think she knew I was laughing, but it was too funny to leave the laugh out.

I love my boys so much, and it's been a great Mother's Day; I just woke from a nap, and I may take another one later...

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers.

Portnoy's Desire

We're moving again, to a GREAT house! I found this poem that Jeff wrote to me in high school, tucked away in a box. It's a variation of the book Portnoy's Complaint, by Philip Roth, and it still warms me to read...so sweet. And I am a complete pack rat.

Allow me to introduce myself
I'm Alexander Portnoy.
I'm every Jewish mother's dream
The proverbial "nice Jewish boy."

"Stay avay from dem shikses!"
Uncle Hymie used to say
As he gnashed on Grandma's creplach
In the old country way.

Mother and Father prefer I bring home
A "vitz" a "berg" or a "stein"
But my fancies have wandered of late
To a certain Joyce Balentine. ...(Jill Brooks) : )

Mother whines and rants and raves,
"A goy will never do!"
Father seems to understand
For he was once young, too.

What is in store for me in life?
What is my destiny?
Not a Catholic, not a Jew,
But this W-A-S-P.

It's hard to decide what I like best
Of this blue-eyed blushing rose;
Her pearly pink skin, her straight golden hair?
Or her flawless, bumpless nose?

Is she merely an image?
For she's just too good to be
Alas, with one marvelous touch
I feel reality.

And with her smile my heart burns bright
With an unquenchable fire
For this goy, this shikse girl,
My Blondie, my desire.

Jeff Grosfeld