Monday, September 25, 2006


Over the years John and I have amassed a strange number of little stuffed animals. Many people think we're juvenile, but each one not only has a name-but some have a middle name and a story-so the new series is to profile them.
We begin with Bomie.

Name: Boma Mara Jiko Zawadi (Bomie for short)
Hobbies: Lounging, snuggling, dancing when no one's looking
Favorite song: Move your feet by Junior Senior
Zodiac Sign: Ironically- a Leo (born in August)
Famous Phrases: "mumjumbo" ("hello" in his native tongue)
Story: Bomie was the souvenir John bought me on our honeymoon at Disney. He's named after every store/restaurant at the hotel we were staying at-The Animal Kingdom Lodge.
John used to wake me up by turning up a favorite song of mine (the one by Junior Senior) and making Bomie dance around to make me smile. Anyone who knows me knows he would be doing this because I am a terrible morning person. Needless to say Bomie has been with me every night for the past 3 years, with the exception of a short stint where he was forgotten in Colorado as we left for Cincinnati. He was quickly reunited with us via $12 air mail and a very pregnant friend who was willing to ship him to my mom's house in Ohio without passing judgment on how strange we were.
Now you know.

Friday, September 22, 2006

My Top Ten Weaknesses

10. Cookies
9. Anything with pumpkin in it--on it---or even near it.
8. Lincoln's laughs
7. Lincoln's cries (he plays me like a deck of cards)
6. Purses
5. Fun T-shirts
4. My triceps
3. Gym Shoes
2. Garage Sales
1. My hubby's dimples

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

One side of guilt please!

There are 2 kinds of people, those who are comfortable walking around the locker room naked, and those who aren't.
I'm the latter.
Don't get me wrong--if you're okay blow drying your hair topless, more power to ya--not for me though.
Anyway you slice it the locker room has become my new favorite place. Why? Because I get a shower. Those small wet little cages with the cheap green tub of soap on the wall used to gross me out, I probably swore I'd never use one (too many cooties swimming around) but now, after I exercise someone watches the snug monkey while I indulge in 15 minutes of selfish wonderful shower time (sometimes I even put on makeup--gasp!)
Now, what no one ever tells you is that mommyhood comes with a side of guilt, at least for me it does. I feel awful leaving him in there with all the screaming toddlers while I'm curling my hair--but I do it anyways.
Hey, it makes me a better mom, and I wish I wasn't the kind of gal who needs a break from her little bundle of joy--but I do.
(If you're wondering why see below posting entitled "Professor Snuggle Monkey"- note: picture)
So, at 10:00 each morning, you know where to find me--in my shower cell trying not to step on the disgusting drain or touch anything unless totally necessary...and loving every minute of it.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I'm having a niece!

Lillian "Lily" Wayne Reynolds is set to be born in January. You know what this means? All those fun girly things that aunties get to do, like spoil their neices.
fun fun fun.

Monday, September 11, 2006

The emperor within

Just when I'm coasting through mommy-hood thinking to myself, "I'm getting pretty good at this parenting thing", life smacks me upside the head.
And what is it that could possibly be strong enough to zap the strength of super mom? The same thing that killed the aliens in War of the guessed it--I've got a cold.
Not just your run-of-the-mill sniff sniff kind of cold. We're talkin full-blown nose running, entire box of tissues in 24 hours,head propped up on a pillow, "I'm starting to look like Emperor Palpatine" kind of cold. Lucky for me my betty of a friend Gretchen did my make up for me (she works at Clinique and even wears a lab coat) so the scary face was a little better, but the sick breath is still lingering. The worst part is- Linc is totally oblivious to the whole thing. Now I know how my mom must've felt all those days that she wasn't feeling well and I demanded full attention--come to think of it--I don't ever remember her getting sick (must be some mom super power I have yet to reveal). Until then, I'll be trudging around my house with a kleenex stuffed up my nostril ( yes, I actually do that--foxy, I know) and a baby on my hip, trying to figure out how much longer I have to stay awake before bed.
I'm all drama folks.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Professor Snuggle Monkey

It's the question every new parent is all too aware of "Is he sleeping through the night yet?" Everyone is excited about it and as a new parent bringing your little angel home from the hospital you anxiously await that glorious day when your baby randomly selects to give you a taste of grace and sleep through the night. But, what no one tells you is that there are a few caveats to this miraculous little moment.
Stipulation 1. Sleeping through the night technically only means sleeping between feedings for a minimum of 6 hours.
Maybe it's because a doctor coined the term, and they don't need much sleep, or because new parents in their extremely sleep deprived state willingly grasp to anything over a three hour break as a good night's rest. But to me...5 consecutive hours of sleep doesn't quite cut it.
Stipulation 2. They still wake up at 4 am.
If he eats one last time at 10:00 before we doze off--he's still waking up at 4:00 in the morning ready to party. That's 6 hours right mom? Yes, but when our snug monkey wakes up at 4:15 all smiles and bushy tailed, it doesn't matter so much.
Stipulation 3. There's not much you can do to control it.
Everyone swears by some secret system to get your baby to sleep through the night--heck, there are even books on it. But if you ask me, there's not much rhyme or reason to it. Some nights Linc will sleep in perfect peace for 6 hours, some he'll go 3 and then be ready to play--there's no real predictor. I'd like to think we had some contribution to the whole deal, but at this point, our little Tonight Show host is the dictator of when we sleep (I know, we're supposed to be able to control this right?)
Bottom line is, it really doesn't matter. I often catch myself determining a good day by how much sleep the snug's gotten the night before, but that's not the way to do it right? When I was holding him in the rocking chair yesterday-I started thinking about how fast he grows, and maybe it was because I was lingering on the edge of that state between sleeping and wake but I definitely felt a little emotional. God gave me this little man, and there will only be a few moments in the long run where he's this tiny little person who needs his parents for everything. He relies on us. We're all he's got, and he can't do squat (aside from some pretty tremendous poops) on his own. So I guess I'll take advantage of all this--even at 3am (someone call and remind me of this occasionally ok?)
It's faith like a child, it's total reliance. I wish I could have the same sort of dependence on God for everything I need. My little monkey is teaching me more everyday huh? And who says they don't do anything fun.
Oh, and if anyone needs to talk at 4:00 am...guess who's available.

Friday, September 08, 2006

My big jump to the bandwagon

Okay, so the title is a little crude, but it's the truth. I'm figuring out this whole thing, not sure why I'm even remotely interested in joining, but I figure it's time I punch my card to be a trendy member of the 21st century and begin blogging my butt off.
This will hopefully be a glimpse into the life of our family, filtered through my mind. My husband John, our little man Lincoln (affectionately referred to as Linc), and our two cats Tweedles Dee and Dum (Mikey and Maggie).
A little about me: recently I'm into my new gym membership, (took a hip hop class today and felt like such a coolie), making Lincoln laugh at all costs (let's just say I'm glad no one else sees me and he's too young to remember how ridiculous I look) and getting a shower when I have time.
Right now Linc is snoozing, and I should be, but I'm off to strap on my pretty Donna Reed apron (over my sweat pants and t-shirt...yes I said sweat's horrid I know, those "what not to wear" goons would shudder) and make a yummy shepherd's pie for dinner.
Speaking of Shepherd's Pie, what an awful name for an entree, we should nominate some new names for that one...feel free to comment.