Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

If I had a nickel for every time J and I have said this in the past 6 months or so...well, we still wouldn't be mighty, but we'd be rich.

Rules I made before our daughter was born:

* NO fast food of any kind whatsoever for any reason until she can go out and buy it for herself with her own money

* NO television of any kind whatsoever for any reason until she is 2 years old

* NO sweets of any kind whatsoever for any reason (except for her birthday) for as long as possible

* NO eating sweets in front of baby (setting a good example and all)

Things I have been spotted doing since E has graced the planet:

* Giving her french fries so she will stay away from mama's margarita

* Turning on the in-flight television to get her to keep quiet

* Feeding her ice cream and cake to avoid hearing what a mean mama I am

* Sharing ice cream with her from the ice cream truck because he stops right out side the house, and the ice cream truck is fun, and mama needs ice cream

And it only goes downhill from here...

Hot-lanta!

The Cowfam took a trip down to Atlanta in July so that J could take yet another exam. The trip was a great success, and quite monumental for little E. It marked the beginning of her love affair for Airplanes!, Fish! and, oddly enough, Tunnels! Especially Fish Tunnels!

We had lots of time at the airport to wait for our flight, thanks to J's last minute "Let's fly carry-on!" epiphany. Flying carry-on with a toddler...who knew? Not having to wait in an endless baggage check line-up with an ants-in-pants-E: Priceless. But when we got to the gate an hour early, I thought we were pinched for sure. Our mission was to try and keep the girl awake and happy, when at this point it was already a couple of hours past her nap time, so that she would sleep through take-off and maybe even the whole flight. (Isn't the wild optimism of first-time parents sweet?)

Mission accomplished. Dada brought her over to the window to look at our airplane. And for the next - oh, 4 days - it was "Airplane! Airplane! Up! UP! UP!!!" And by some divine miracle, I put her in the Ergo about 5 minutes before we boarded and she was out like a light. Unfortunately, we then sat on a stationary plane for an hour, and she woke up about 5 minutes after take-off. Can't win 'em all.

Of course, now we're those people. The people with kids. The ones no one wants on the plane at all, let alone seated beside them. The look we got from the woman seated by the window as we took our seats was chilly at best. With an attempt at levity I quipped: "Cross your fingers that she sleeps the whole way!" The response, from a disapproving frown set in a very thin line, was "Trust me. I already did." Grrrrreat.

The good news is that when she did wake up, she was the world's best behaved child. Heck, she was better behaved than most adults. She opened her eyes, looked out the window and said "Airplane! Airplane! Up! UP! UP!!!" and then smiled and giggled her way through the next 10 minutes as she realized she was actually inside an airplane. Then she lunched her way through the next half hour, thoroughly enjoying everything mom had to offer. After that we went on a little stroll up and down the aisle, repeat ad nauseum, charming all of the other passengers with our cuteness. And lo and behold, the flight was an hour shorter than it was supposed to be, and we landed! When our disgruntled neighbour broke her stony silence long enough to say "She's a really good girl", well, I can't tell you how nice that sounds. Take that, grumpy old hag.

We spent 3 days in Atlanta, and didn't plan to do a whole lot as the primary goal of the trip (after the exam) was relaxation. But we did manage to go to the Georgia Aquarium. The Georgia Aquarium is a utopia for fish-o-philes. It is gigantic, there are a whole lot of fish, many of which you can touch, and it houses the world's largest fish tank in which you can scuba dive if you feel that way inclined. J is a fish-o-phile. And the apple did not fall far from the tree. Me? I like fish. They're great. But I kind of get the idea after the first half hour or so. Also, being surrounded by fish tanks kind of makes me feel a little woozy and nauseous. But to see this girl's face light up the way it did that day I would turn our apartment into a giant aquarium and live underwater. Or maybe just buy a really big fish tank.

Back to this world's largest fish tank. It's enormous. You can walk around it, and there's a huge tunnel through the middle that you can walk through. Hence, the Fish Tunnel! that E is still talking about to this day. It really was impressive. There's a moving walkway through it so people don't just set up camp. J totally would have set up camp.

Other than that, we did a little sight-seeing, ate some seafood and bbq, and spent a lot of time sitting in our hotel room by the airport, watching planes and yelling "Airplane! Airplane! Up! UP! UP!!!"

Uncle Hill!

Here are a few shots of E getting mauled by her Uncle Hill this summer in Kingston.

It was the first time they had seen each other since she was 2 months old, and she fell in love pretty quickly.

We spent two weeks together, and she still talks about him every day. Every time she sees someone on a bike she points and says "Hill! Hill!". And when I ask her if she wants to run down the hill, she says "Uncle Hill!".

Tell me these don't make your soul smile.

The Ant and the Aardvark

One of the things I love most about my husband is that he's a sucker. He likes chick flicks and is not afraid to admit it. And when it comes to his daughter, well, we knew even before she was born that he was in trouble.

As I mentioned in the last post, E has a new infatuation with aardvarks. After our visit to the zoo, when she ran around the apartment all night yelling "Aardvarking!", dada couldn't just sit by and let the phase pass. He was instantly on the computer, finding images and cute little aardvark videos to show her.

That's when we discovered The Ant and the Aardvark. Has anyone else heard of this? It's hysterical. Enjoy.

p.s. And of course, like any good daddy, he bought her this.

All Good Things...

For the past 11 blissful days, the Cowfam has been on vacation. Well, I haven't really been on vacation because moms are always on the clock. And E is always on vacation. Lets not even discuss Ralph. So the difference here is that dada has been on vacation. That never happens. Even when he has time off from one thing he's usually studying for something else. But not this time. So what did we do? African safari? Mediterranean cruise? No way dude. We live in New York City. Fun is right outside our front door.

We went to the Bronx Zoo. E fell in love with aardvarks and we ate funnel cakes in one of the most spectacular days this team has seen in years.

We soaked up the sun with the hoity toity at Sunningdale Country Club in Scarsdale to celebrate cousin Willy's 4th birthday.

We watched movies every single night and stayed up until midnight. Oh yes.

We dedicated an entire day to finding the coolest park within walking distance.

We dedicated another entire day to food by trolling the world's coolest grocery store, enjoying key lime pie from the world's most eccentric pie man and munching on fresh figs from the neighbours' yard.

We went swimming, we went out to breakfast, we stoop-saled like it was 1999, and topped it off last night with our first date night since Valentine's Day.

This is the most time we've had together since E was 3 months old. Today is the last day of Cowfest 2010. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go squeeze out the last couple of drops of sweet, sweet togetherness.

Summer Snapshots

Up early with a coffee, writing. Sometimes a little kick in the keester is just what you need. And a few nice words at just the right time.

Lots to catch up on, but here's a little taste of the summer we've been having. It is by no means comprehensive, just a teaser.

This one's for you, Brian.

Oh man...busted. I haven't written in a few months. And here I thought I was getting away with it because my parents and the few friends who take a look from time to time are too polite to say anything. The sad truth is that disappointing one's parents is generally not enough to spur most of us into action. And those who see you day to day aren't too concerned about your latest blog post, because chances are they were there. But when someone decides to dedicate a chunk of his valuable time to spend on checking out my life, it's fairly embarrassing to admit that this blog thing is one of the many, many, many things that get neglected in the great toddler race.

This guy Brian is the husband of my friend June. June and I used to work together, and have kept in touch on and off over the years. They have a pretty spectacular little girl named Zoey who is a week older than E, and together they make a pretty awesome team. Brian has his own blog. For the past few months I've made it a habit to visit it almost daily. It's just a nice place to be. It's mostly about Zoey, which makes sense.

Although I've known for some time that June and I have a lot in common, it turns out that Brian and I have quite a bit in common as well. Most notably our delightfully rambling love affair with words. Also, a rather strong attachment to our daughters and a sense of awestruck gratitude toward the tolerant natures of our spouses.

So just for you Brian, I've made a point to give you something to read tomorrow that hasn't passed its expiration date.

My daughter is so friggin' adorable these days I can hardly stand it. When I'm out in public, I'm constantly looking around to make sure that onlookers are catching her adorableness. When we're alone I find myself looking around and saying to myself "Seriously. Am I the only one that gets to enjoy this right now?" She pretty much spends her day listing everything she sees, with a few descriptive adjectives like awesome, cool, crazy or nice. She even knows a few French words, and I couldn't be more proud. She's just now starting to put a couple of words together, like "Help you" when she's asking for help or "I'm sitting" when she doesn't think that we realize that she is, in fact, sitting. So darn smart. She also has a mean Downward Dog, thanks to Toddler & Me yoga, and would spend all day in the water if she could.

The very best thing about E right now is that she has started to poop on the toilet. Wheeee!!!! I can see my days of scraping poo off of cloth diapers and dragging said smelly diapers to the laundromat twice a week coming to an end! Not an imminent end, mind you, but at least we're in the ball park. It all started about a month or so ago when she started saying "poop" about a million times a day. Then she started giving me her bath toys and telling me they needed to poop. So I started holding them over the toilet and making "poop noises" and telling her they were pooping. What we do for our kids. Since then I've made a point every time she says poop to ask her if she needs to go, then ask her if she wants to sit on the toilet. One day it was "Yeah" to both, and she just went for it. I made a huge deal, cheering and clapping and saying bye to the poop as it flushed away. She just looked at me like you would expect her to look at you if you did the same thing when she was fifteen. Priceless. But it was a start. And her enthusiasm has grown. Now she sits on the toilet and grunts and makes faces and when the inevitable toot slips out she gives us the classic "Gasp! What was that?!" look of delighted surprise. It's going well. And it's just the beginning of what will be a long road littered with poop stories. Stay tuned.

Moments

Yesterday E and I had a nap together. After a blissful hour or so, I heard a little voice from the crib say "Mama." I looked over to see her sitting up and smiling at me. Then I brought her onto the bed and we had a lovely little conversation. It went something like this:

E (pointing to the flowers on the dresser): "Flah-vahs!"
M: "Yeah, look at the pretty flowers!"
E (pointing to her blanket): "Ba-ba!"
M: "Nice blanket!"
E (pointing to her toes): "Toes!"
M: "Are those your toes?"
E: "Yah!"
M: "Look at this! You have flowers on your pants!"
E: "Woah."

It's moments like this that I just wish I could videotape every second of E's life so that I won't miss a single thing.

What Mama Wants...

I don't get to do what I want very often.

Now, before you start feeling sorry for me, let me elaborate. It's not that I never have the opportunity. Yes, being a mom is - insert favourite cliche here** - but it doesn't account for my inability to decide what it is I want to do and follow through. I believe that it's actually a flaw in my internal wiring. At least I think I believe that, or maybe I just like to say that to relieve myself of accountability in the matter.

Let me give you an example. A weekend is coming up. I know that J will be taking E in the morning so that I can do whatever I want. Is that pressure or what? I immediately start fantasizing/brainstorming about all of the options. This eventually deteriorates into a mental checklist of all of the things I should be doing that have been put on the back burner (laundry, cleaning, organizing, childproofing, personal hygiene), and the realization that anything I want to do can hardly be enjoyed with all of these uncompleted tasks nipping at my heels.

So what happens? The same thing that used to happen the night before a final that I was not prepared for (and I have ample experience with this scenario). I shut down. I lay in bed and feel guilty about not a) doing anything productive and b) not doing what I want to be doing. Then I get up and waste time on the computer, and instead of getting off at my stop I just ride the guilt trip a little longer, feeling bad about not using my time wisely.

Also, I can't seem to separate what I want from what I think everyone else wants. If I do what I want and spend some alone time, J doesn't get what he wants because he wants to spend time together, and E doesn't get what she wants because she always wants her mama around. We don't get much time together as a family, so is it really fair to be cutting into that time if I'm not going to use it for something "worthy", like going to the gym or cleaning the toilet?

It's a losing battle and, just like me, it's getting old. To quote Mary J. Blige (because what good writer doesn't?): No More Drama. Today I'm tired. I have been watching the laundry pile up for days and I just don't want to do it. I have been working overtime with E because J has been studying/going out to celebrate/going to Atlantic City with the boys, and I want a break. So when Jeff got home from his trip (with flowers), I asked him to do my bidding for the next 24 hours as my Mother's Day present. I sent him out with the girl and the laundry and a grocery list. And not only did he oblige, but I believe his exact words were "I would love to do that for you." (This is a perfect example of when it is acceptable to lie to your spouse.) I'm using the time to blog, to eat chocolate, and maybe even do something productive. But I'm doing what I want. And that's it. Should I feel bad for dumping all of the responsibility on Jeff and sending him away?

No. Because the bottom line is that J wants me to be happy. And right now I'm happy. End of story.

**Let me help you: "a full-time job", "the hardest job in the world", "physically and emotionally exhausting"...

Yeah. What he said.

"Act like you, talk like you, dress like you, laugh, walk, run like you every minute of every day 'cause somebody probably likes you a lot exactly the way that you are...more importantly, you'll like yourself a lot better being exactly who you're supposed to be all of the time."

~ Brian DeWagner, husband of my friend June

This is part of a post Brian wrote on his blog, addressed to his daughter. How awesome is that? Pretty awesome. And instead of getting all verbose and sucking the focus away from this brilliant quote, I'm just going to stop writing here and let you read it again. Go ahead. Enjoy.