Monday, September 29, 2008
I feel like going costume-hunting for Jaxon...
[NEW NEW NEW!!! Halloween music too, because a girl can't live on IZ and JS alone]
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Ooooohhhhh... how naive I was.
We took our seats on the plane, Jaxon sat on my lap and proceeded to gabble on about the plane, the purple truck, the turtle (turtle?), "Knuckles, plane!" *THUNK*, "Muahses, plane!" *Smooch*
And once again, Preston and I were giving eachother surreptitous "knuckes" and waggly eyebrows and the whole congratulatory nine-yards (see previous posts about how this always backfires).
And then we took off.
And then... the screaming.
And the kicking.
And the clawing.
And the two-year-old back-bend/shimmy of doom.
About an hour later, Preston had taken Jaxon to the back of the plane
And for the next few hours, he sat on our laps and looked out the window and I absolutely lied to that child and told him there were butterflies! And George! (Grandpa's cat) And Hendrix! outside the plane window. And he gave them knuckles and muahses and Preston and I once again gave eachother waggly eyebrows of congratulations. Parents of the year award? In the bag, baby.
Once again, may I direct your attention to how this always backfires.
We began our descent, which happened to unfortunately coincide with Jaxon finally conking out, chin balanced on the edge of the airplane window mid-muahses...
And then... the screaming.
And the kicking.
And the clawing.
And the two-year-old back-bend/shimmy of doom.
And by the time we got off that plane, I had devolped several nervous ticks, and I tried to monitor the vein in Preston's forehead in case it exploded.
And then we drove home and all went to sleep. The end.
[Preston says I'm in denial about that last part, but I don't want to remember the rest].
Yep, sure did--I wasn't lying, because I know there are a few of you out there that thought maybe I was.
What? You demand proof?
Cue the Proud Auntie Picture
Adrian Phillip Ruiz said "Hello Mom and Dad" yesterday evening at 8:54 PM (North Carolina time), weighing in at 9 pounds, .4 ounces and 22 inches long. His Daddy reports he has hair, but all I can see is a hat. And I can report that he sounds adorable. Cuteness rating on a scale of 1-10? About a freakin gazillion! This Auntie is thinking about moving to North Carolina for the winter!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
My buddy Colin posted a video yesterday of one Jake Shimabukuro playing "While my guitar gently weeps" (which should be the second track).
And. I. Am. Speechless.
He's playing a freakin ukelele, folks! (Colin, you must be an evil genius, what with me being in the throes of a full-fledged ukelele obsession).
I heart JS, maybe just maybe almost as much as I heart IZ, but not quite?
And now I want that ukelele, STAT. I want to be this awesome.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Pacific Blu, I was searching for "Pacific Blues"--a gigantic "Mahalo" to the gentleman in B&N who knew exactly where to find their latest CD, Identity--the last one, which we purchased and have since enjoyed a few times over.
Its a pretty amazing CD, but I have to say here that I'm still loyal to my "IZ" [RIP]--he retains the "Heather's favorite Hawaiian" prize, and probably will forever. My heart belongs to you, IZ! (He's the gentleman that you're probably listening to right now, if you have the sound turned up on your computer--and if you don't... for shame).
All this Hawiian music has inspired Preston to try to pick up the Ukelele, and I think I would love to try it as well. I'll see how Preston does (he'll probably take to it like a duck to water, being an accomplished guitar player who can play just about anything by ear after a few minutes of plucking at strings).
Oh! And everyone stay close, Bryan and Vanessa are expecting the arrival of Mr. Adrian very soon, she went in this morning to be induced. I will post "proud Aunite" pics as soon as I get them in my hot little hands. We can't wait to see him, and I'm already having dreams of holding the kid. Good luck to Vanessa today, and lots of warm thoughts their way.
That concludes this morning's post.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Mahalo, Auntie Maria!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
I was just finishing up my last post when I was summoned to the bathroom by Preston.
"Heather, you're gonna want to see this. Bring your camera."
Oh he knows me so well by now, he can totally spot blog fodder.
BTW, Jaxon just wiped a booger on him. And he's threatening to wipe it on me for saying so.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Oh, its beautiful here. The weather is beautiful, the scenery is beautiful, even the gosh darn people are beautiful.
And then we bring our son with his two-year-old attitude here. He's made it virtually impossible to go out to dinner without a spectacle (we've avoided restaurants thus far, being within walking distance of The Ala Moana shopping center, and taking advantage of the excellent food court). Jaxon has been far from impressed, and usually lets everyone within a 10-mile radius know all about how unfair his parents are for bringing him to Hawaii in the first place. We mostly get pitying stares (the beautiful people are so understanding!).
And then, last night... inspiration. We hit McDonalds first, grabbed some of Jax's favorite nuggets, and let him eat on the way to the food court. He nibbled, he didn't make a squeak--Preston and I were giving each other high-fives and waggly eyebrows and the whole congratulatory nine yards. We stopped off and grabbed some delicious and cheap Chinese food, and let Jaxon have some Häagen-Dazs ice cream. He remained quiet and people-watched, only sampling his ice cream, which Preston and I ended up sharing. And the entire time, I was sitting there, looking at my suddenly cherubic child and thinking "Oh, I got him back, I got my sweet sweet baby back. That two-year old monster is banished!"
We strolled back to the Hotel with the intention of hitting a little store in the Lobby that sells Hawaiian shirts and the like... and stumbled upon gold. Ala Moana puts on a live broadcast from the Pakele Lounge each Thursday evening (Click here to check out the feed), and a little local bit of awesome called "The Pacific Blues" was closing the show--amazing. I was awestruck, Preston was awestruck, Jaxon clapped along and howled with delight, bouncing his head and tapping his toes in time... it was magic.
I have yet to find a website for the group, I'll keep you posted. They were too good not to share.
We found an adorable Hawaiian shirt for Jaxon, what with Ukuleles and the sort on it, and it fit, and everyone was delighted and happy and euphoric.
And here he is, mid-fit. Screaming for the camera. Isn't he darling?
Your bonus for reading this post in its entirety? Pictures of my yellow sailboat. I've watched it go out each and every morning since we got here, and it magically returns when I'm not watching, only to go out again the next morning. I love it, I want it. It will keep going out each morning, even after we're gone... and that makes me happy.
Expect more pics after the weekend, we're exploring the island starting tomorrow--as long as Jaxon decides to keep his bodily fluids to himself.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Then, the week was up. And T-Bird then made everyone in America proud by exercising his right to choose. And choose he did.
...he chose the most fabulous bright pink cast the world has seen (such style, such grace!). And Tara and Willy T get the "Parents of the Year" award for not talking him out of it. You get down with your bad self, Bird. Nobody does it like you.
Enjoy a home video showcasing Hendrix's intelligence. On his terms. Like, "Human--say "speak" a dozen times, then I'll think about obeying." I'm so sure he knows that I'm the pack leader. Notice me speaking to him like he's deaf? That's me being calm and assertive.
Hendrix. Proving Cesar Millan wrong every step of the way.
By the way, teaching your dog to "speak" isn't as good of an idea as it seems. Hendrix (who used to be such a quiet dog that Preston and I actually had the discussion of "Can Greyhounds even bark?") now associates "speaking" with "free foodstuffs". And thus, we've learned that Greyhounds do indeed bark.
This post can only mean one thing. The system is still down.
1. No food. Uh, hello--I thought I made it perfectly clear that this was a potluck. And yet... no food.
2. No remote connection. Actually, no, that is misleading. There is a remote connection, but it is slllllloooooow--and I strongly dislike taking 10 minutes to enter one claim, which, incongruously, actually seems to cause me and the system to make more mistakes--sorry Joyce. That rant right there is directed to you IT guys out there, the ones that will never read my blog.
Okay then. On to the Fuzzy Slipper portion of FSF.
Ah, here they are at the back door. Because that's where I've been all fooking morning, letting the dog in. And then out. Then in. And out. And in. Maybe out again. Let's try in... no, I want to stay out. It's a sick mind game.
And here are my fuzzy slippers contemplating our orange suitcase. Because because because because... I'M GOING TO HAWAII!!! Whuuuut? I know, and if I were Oprah--ya'll would be going too. Also a car, and a box of chocolate, perhaps some money and perfume.
Preston was ordered to go for work, and decided that he'd take Jaxon and I right along with him. So--we'll be basking in the tropical sun (as opposed to the sun sun) sometime ________, and will be gone for ________________ [this information is now classified for security reasons upon Preston's request.] Except I'll still be working, and Preston will be working, and I'm sure I'll put Jaxon to work too. Kids gotta earn his keep at some point.
And a big "thank you" to those of you who expressed concern for my toe. Toe, foot and leg are all still firmly attached, and the toe remains the only part that has turned color.
That does it for this edition of Fuzzy Slipper Friday. Keep in mind that I may not remember to update as often in HAWAII, because I'll be too busy playing on the beach and reveling in the cooler temperatures and the rain and fruity drinks and macadamia nuts and flipflops.
I must go let the hound in again, and so--goodbye.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
This picture doesn't do the purpley-black color justice, I'm almost proud of the ick factor on this one...
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
(Hendrix yowls, Preston gets up to let him out for a minute and starts to head back to bed, making a pit stop in Jaxon's room to check on him)
P: Heather, are you awake? Jaxon is smelly.
H: Mmmmmuuh? Mm.
P: Heather? We need to wake him up and change his bottom, can you help me?
(Heather stumbles out of bed, hair askew and pajama shorts pulled up to her underarms. After a torturous search, she finds Jaxon's room--where Preston is gently waking Jaxon from a peaceful slumber, lifting him from his crib and setting him on the changing table)
P: Hey buddy, you stinky? Let Daddy change your bum.
(Heather is grasping the point to this... and grabs a diaper)
H: Hmmurrgh. Diaper...
P: Shhhh... it's still nighttime
(Preston removes the diaper from Jaxon's wiggly little bottom)
P: Oh. No, he's not stinky.
H: (Suddenly awake) You do realize that I'm probably going to kill you now.
So we fed him a cereal bar, and tried to put him back to bed. He didn't go back to sleep, and neither did we. This is how I've come to have 1/4 of my data entry already done at such an unholy hour of the day.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
HOWEVER, feel free to entertain yourself with a picture of Jaxon on the potty. With a diaper on. And the lid down. And crying. But dang it, he wanted to be on that potty. I'm going back to my book...
Monday, September 1, 2008
Chickens (fancy ones!)
Itsy-bitsy, teeny weenie goats
Horrific gigantic-bouncy-induced injuries...
...and miraculous recoveries
... Avery, Tristan, Landon, Auntie Tara, Uncle Willy T, Auntie Erin, Grandma Ann, Uncle Shawn, Chelci, Brent the yard guy (or Erin's man, I'm confused)--and some of his family members!
In other words, we spent Saturday in Snowflake, being insanely jealous that the high there was 83, yes--that's an 8 and a 3--degrees... Fahrenheit I practically needed a parka, and Jaxon was beginning to wonder at what point he was going to be able to build his fist snowman. And yes, all of these things are in Tara and Will's back yard--holy crap, I know! Okay, maybe we went to a Sweet Corn festival... but you'll never know the truth, will you?
We then proceeded to spend Sunday sleeping and Monday looking at one another, wishing we were back in Snowflake.